#I love it when he embraces the chaos
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bjyxobsessed · 5 months ago
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Wang Yibo legit said HAPPY PRIDE MONTH
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razzle-zazzle · 4 months ago
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would lloyd still free the serpentine in the runaways au? If cole is with him then the ninja wouldn't have hung him up and laughed at him, meaning that he wouldnt have had reason to free the serpentine. Also how does Cole end up a ninja in this au?
One way or another I'm going to free the Serpentine, they did not deserve being trapped in sunless tombs for an indeterminate time period.
Thinking... okay, so Lloyd actually makes it to Jamanakai Village before the sun even rises, while Cole's still at the little camp they settled in for the night. Because Lloyd's attempting to try and prank the town into thinking Lord Garmadon has returned, in an effort to get food. It uh... it doesn't work. The ninja are just about to hang him up on the roof when Cole shows up, upset for various reasons, and they back off.
Now Cole's annoyed and mortified and also not letting Lloyd out of his sight (he is also kinda lowkey proud of Lloyd's ingenuity, even if it didn't work all the way, but he's not like. super good with kids even if he and Lloyd are tentatively friends and in this journey of theirs together so he's not expressing anything other than annoyance and mortification), but Lloyd's upset enough that he manages to run off hours later regardless. He finds the Hypnobrai Tomb, opens it up, and immediately his mind lights up at the possibilities. Cole catches up to him, sees the chaos about to unfold, and for a moment, thinks "oh, good, the kid finally found someone willing to take care of him, I don't need to stick around anymore." So he turns to leave. He'll miss the brat, of course, but it's not like he's needed anymore, right?
Meanwhile, Wu is not only disappointed in his students for how they didn't take Lloyd seriously, but also suspects the "mean older brother" they described might be the missing Master of Earth he's been trying and failing to find. The moment he's done admonishing them he's got his head in his hands. Lily was never this hard to train, he swears, nor was she ever so hard to find.
The rest of the episode sort of progresses as in canon? Like, there's a bit where Lloyd notices Cole's absence and keeps hoping he'll pop up again, and Cole realizes that fuck, he really is going to miss Lloyd, and they definitely reunite at the end of the episode (with the map of the other tombs in hand) and realize they've grown too attached to each other to part just yet, and the ninja learn a whole lesson about not underestimating their enemy. But there's still a lot I need to work out...
I really need to rewatch Rise of the Snakes, huh 😅
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lightningzbolt · 6 months ago
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Red & Black All Time Low Hoodie
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Was gonna take new screenshots of this one, but my SSD died, so. :) Had to get a new drive and I do have some backups but a month+ old so that's a problem I have to deal with, but you can still have these from last October when I was using Alex to complete the Strangerville storyline, so he was allergic to the spores and possessed. Forgive the bulge of his pants, it's not ideal but it's all I got. :v Based on a real hoodie I saw, but I also added more swatches to it, up to 14, just in case you want color variety. Why is this the only reference I can find of it now.
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sophiesrambling · 1 year ago
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the part that most fics don't get right is that castiel is a little bit insane!!!!
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bistaxx · 2 years ago
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k!Luzu is both the most tragic little man who gives me constant pain and grief but also a total loser who I want to bully /lovingly
#he both upsets me /pos because like he's just a guy who wanted to help but in a world that took advantage of him#and broke his heart and even when he turned back on the world and embraced the chaos#k4 still ends with him willing to give his life to save the world...#he is so warped by that experienced that despite losing all his k4 memories he is still 'evil!luzu' when k5 starts#but even then he still has... he has good in him- like dont get me wrong#I think his affection towards k!q was toxic and founded on something false the entire time but...#deep down he did want to protect him... and the tragedy of it is watching it all fall apart because yes he loved Q#but he never really understood him and that was always bound to fracture eventually#and it happens in the most bitter way with him hurting the person he cares for most the SAME way he was hurt and not realizing it#and as the arc went on we see him go from doing terrible things for misguided noble reasons to straying so far from his original goal#and becoming miserable and cruel and just... so far from the man he was at the start of k4- and when he loses his memories again hes just..#so... 'light' and happier and... :( ... yet even so he's still not good!Luzu again...#maybe he can never be good!Luzu again..... he's so- my little guy :(#.............................. but also I have such an urge to just bully him everytime I see him LMAO#ajsdejeafbkz- LOOK there is just something so bullyable about k!Luzu- when I'd talk about him on discord to non kl fans I'd just bully him-#for being such an edgy emo bitch- look at his outfits my god#He literally looks like how I'd draw my oc's when I was younger 😭- which were either emo dudes in hoodies or dressy outfits#and all throughout k5 I see him miserable and deep down I just think 'well bestie whose fault is that hmmm?'
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tonycries · 4 months ago
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The Way You Kiss Me - G.S.
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Synopsis. The four times Satoru tries really hard not to kiss you - his best friend’s pretty younger sister. And the one time he doesn’t.
Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! Suguru’s sister! reader, childhood enemies to lovers, PINING Satoru, like really really disgustingly down bad, creampíe, oral (fem receiving), pússytalking, needy JEALOUS! Satoru, running away from it, spítting, punching is Suguru’s love language, mentions of aIcohol, pet names, swearing.
Word count. 7.4k (That’s wild)
A/N. BOO! Surprise upload. This was so fun to write omg.
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“You sure this is how the grown-ups get married?”
“Duh, I know everything.”
“Nuh uh, Toru.”
“Yuh uh!”
The first time Gojo Satoru kissed you was underneath that dingy playground slide that the two of you always raced to after elementary school. 
Usually, your older brother, Suguru, would walk home alongside you two - but this time, he’d just so happened to have been held back for throwing paper planes at the teacher that day.
A sign from the universe, Satoru internally celebrated, something he’d learned from those sappy romance novels his mother left lying around the house. No matter that he was the one that made those planes.
You were six back then, standing in front of a determined Satoru - reaching up on his tip-toes, face pink, smelling of those cheap strawberry lollipops he’d sneak into class and taunt you with. At the much older and wiser age of seven, he’d insisted on being the first one to lean in.
Just barely even grazing your dramatically puckered lips before-
Satoru learned two things that fateful afternoon:
Even as a seven-year-old, Suguru’s punches really hurt. 
Never mess with you. Anyone but you. 
Life only seemed to go downhill from there - because that last lesson was proving to be hard along the years. Really. Fucking. Hard.
Little did Satoru know that this would be the start of some strange, unpredictable little dance of push and pull. No, you definitely weren’t his wife. Nor were you exactly best friends - not really, that spot was reserved for your brother. But you didn’t think you could ever be just that either.
And the punch that’d knocked his wobbly tooth out onto the playground floor that day was a painful reminder that whatever that was - whatever weird thoughts he had later in middle school about how you’d tasted like candy - didn’t matter. No matter how part some tucked-away little part of him wanted it to.
Hell, eleven years later and Satoru still can’t walk around that familiar block without feeling slightly queasy. Which is why, after that failed first kiss, he knew there wouldn’t be a second. 
Instead, he settles back to teasing your pouty self, pushing all your buttons, tugging on those cute dresses you wore. Face burning so strangely with- humiliation? when you bickered right back, calling his haircut a “tragic attempt at modern art.”
“So you’re saying I look like art?” A gangly, now-seventeen Satoru blocks the bustling high school hallway, ignoring the bell. Grin only growing at your frustrated huff, he half-jokes, “Aww, if you’re that soft on me, sweetheart, maybe we should go to prom tog-”
You slam your locker, effectively shutting both it and Satoru at the same time. “I’d rather go with Yaga.”
“...you would not.”
“Would to.”
“Would not.”
“Would to.”
“Would- Sugu–!”
And all Suguru can do is wrap two hands around his neck, mock-choking himself, wondering if it was really too late to embrace a quiet life as a monk. “You’ll both be MLA cited in my farewell note.”
He was used to it, though, forced to watch all this chaos since quickly mending his friendship with Satoru over ice cream the day after the punch. Convinced that this was some punishment for a past life’s misdeed.
With a squawk of protest, Satoru’s turning back to you, eyes crinkling with a hint of mischief you knew too well, “Would not.”
Your face burns, “Would to, Toru.”
You didn’t go with Yaga. but Satoru didn’t exactly count that as a win in his books, either, because you did show up that night hanging off the arm of some jerk from the football team. 
And there you were, all dolled up - which he very objectively noted - way too prettily for some bastard like him. Stars in your eyes, and everything he couldn’t have in that smile. 
Everything. 
Way too gorgeous, even when he finds you sitting outside the gymnasium later on in the night. Too busy bawling your mascara off to even throw out your usual greeting insult his way. Murmuring out wetly about “that asshole” and how he humiliated you by stranding you in the middle of the dance floor for someone else. 
“Well, he was a jerk anyway. Even Yaga would’ve been better, hell, I-” Satoru stops short to his horror at the way you only cry harder.
Way too irresistible, especially as his body moves before his mind - holding out an open hand before he knows it. “I’m a much better dancer than him and you.” And oh Satoru will forever remember the way his heart lurches as you blink your teary eyes up in confusion, “Well, aren’t ya gonna take up the challenge?”
Weirdly, it wasn’t weird at all. 
If anything, you had to hold back your laughter the entire time at the way the great “campus sweetheart” Gojo Satoru was so on edge.
Just a friend comforting a friend, right?
So why was he avoiding your gaze with the subtlety of a sledgehammer, summer blue eyes pointedly trained right over your head. That pretty pink blush dusting his cheeks reflecting the hands hovering in midair over your waist. So close - and yet, fear in each and every turn and swirl.
Yours were searing into his broad shoulders as you tried to guide him to the muffled music from inside. And shit.
That night ended with a second kiss. 
You don’t know who leaned in first, just that Satoru’s soft lips were just fleeting on your glossy ones - barely even a touch. And that shit shit shit- this was Satoru. This was you. 
Everything. 
But it seems that every time Satoru was about to kiss you dangerously close to the way some tiny, forbidden part of his heart wanted to - the universe throws an obstacle at him. An obstacle that was six feet and named “Suguru”, currently running at break-neck speed out of the gym.
“MOVE YOUR ASSES!” he cackles, “THE FOOTBALL TEAM ISN’T TOO HAPPY ABOUT ME BREAKING THEIR STAR PLAYER’S NOSE.”
And not a word is uttered about the kiss as the three of you speed out of the school parking lot in Suguru’s busted-up black hellcat, the wind mussing up the hairstyle that took Satoru over two hours to perfect. Sneaking in glances at the sight of you singing along at the top of your lungs to some overplayed pop song on the radio. 
He learns another two things that night:
Apparently, Suguru’s right hook still really fucking hurt. And thank god for tonight’s casualties of noses, because it was a wonder that he didn’t look too hard at how close Satoru was with you.��
He didn’t…dislike the feeling of your lips on his. And judging by the way you meet his eyes in the rearview mirror - you didn’t either.
It’s mainly that last one that makes him gulp.
Neither of you remember the third kiss - though, Satoru’s sure that at least 80% of Shoko’s instagram followers did.
According to a very hungover Shoko, and the many, many forms of documentation, it had happened on the New Year’s eve during your third year in university. In which you were much more used to the raging parties that would be hosted at Suguru’s apartment, and only slightly less intimidated by them.
“And you’re a lightweight too, dumbass. You were gone.” Shoko sighs from across the café table, eye bags deeper than the last time he’d seen her. “Like gone gone.”
God, what a way to start the year.
Satoru bites back a remark about how “gone” Shoko herself had been. Sitting up straight in his seat, regret immediately hitting his senses faster than the guilty throbbing at his temples. He winces, managing out a semi-disbelieving groan of, “Gone gone?”
And she’s only nodding wearily, subconsciously tapping out the rest of her cigarette ashes onto his untouched plate of sweet pastries. 
“I’m talking dancing on expensive coffee tables and fighting to stop you from giving everyone there a strip show.” She cracks a smirk through a waft of smoke, “Though, she would’ve loved that I’m sure.”
“Har har har, you’d make even Nanami laugh with that one.”
“Eugh, gross.” Shoko taps through her phone briefly, swirling it around to show Satoru a few pictures that definitely gave him a mini-heart attack at 8:57 in the morning. “You look like you’re about to pen really bad poetry.”
And perhaps this was Shoko’s plan all along - to shock Satoru to the core hard enough that she can note it down as one of her sketchy psychological experiments. 
But he knew. Could feel it in the hazy fragments of memories - or, at the very least, in that entire highlight that Nanamin had oh-so-conveniently put up on Instagram titled, “Blackmail.”
You knew. 
You’d kissed him back. 
“I don’t have a-.” you slur, stumbling ever-so-slightly as you try to meet Satoru’s glassy eyes. Because shit the years have had him shooting up faster than you could look up. “-a New Year’s kiss, y’know.”
You were older - more gorgeous, if that was even possible now. That tight dress hugging your body so unfairly in a way that had him forgetting you were his best friend’s sister. 
The one person in this whole world that he couldn’t have.
But Satoru leans in closer, more because he wants to than anything - he could pick out your voice anywhere let alone over the thumping music currently filling his crowded living room. Lips loose as he tries to play up the cool-guy facade he’s been dubbed with since freshman year, “Hah, loser. Because I do.”
“Where?”
At this, Satoru is stumped - damn, you were good. 
“Not- uh here?” If he was in any clearer state of mind, he’d have been embarrassed at the way his voice cracks so traitorously as your unsteady hands pull him in closer by his overpriced button-up. 
Your body was flush against his now, so addictive. Gaze half-lidded and flickering between the sliver of milky skin exposed on his chest - from that impromptu striptease he’d almost started earlier - and the blue eyes that were currently locked you. You whisper a strained, “Liar.”
Close - too close. So dangerously close.
He breathes out against your lips, the smell of booze and you so heady in his mind. And the heavy words falling from his lips sound like lies, even to him. “Not.”
“Toru?” you hum, a sound that has him gasping. “Shut up.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
And there went your New Year’s kisses. At exactly 11:37PM, if the photos were anything to go by. 
And holy shit were there many. All of which showed your arms looped around Satoru’s neck, crashing his lips to yours. His own, resting against your waist, a scandalously red blush - whether from the alcohol or you - adorning his cheeks. Looking more blissed out than he ever remembers feeling. 
“I’m a dead man, Shoko.” 
There’s a lengthy silence, leaving Satoru stewing in thoughts of how Suguru would react once he finds out. And whether or not he’d be able to rise from the dead just to see how pretty you’d look at his funeral.
Morbid thoughts broken only by Shoko’s cough, “Hey, can I keep your eyes for experimentation if he actually catches you?”
Subtly, he sends himself those photos from last night.  
Luckily for Satoru’s eyes, they never ended up being donated towards Shoko’s questionable contributions to the world of medicine. 
And by some grace of the gods above, Suguru never mentioned a word about the kiss that would’ve inevitably made its way to him. Or maybe it was because Satoru stole his phone until he managed to pester Nanami just enough to take down that highlight. But, semantics. 
His heart, however, might as well have been part of some experiment.
Because it’s been working overdrive since that night - mind reliving that moment over and over and over and- shit, he’s fucked. So, so fucked. 
Fucked enough that it took Satoru months just to muster up to even look in your pretty eyes once more, unless he wanted to get lost in them forever. Fucked enough that he dared to wonder again and again when there might be a fourth kiss - if there would be a fourth kiss. 
He just never thought it would happen the way it did - with you, standing outside his front door. 
“I’m sorry, Toru.” you mumble, “It’s just- I think we both need to grow up.”
You’ve freshly graduated now, looking more and more irresistible each time he sees you - even when you’re looking at him like that. 
Rolling his eyes, “Ha, is this another way of saying you want my secret to getting taller? Because the first thing is to-”
“I’m serious, Satoru.”
And oh how he wished you’d say something - anything - else right now. Call him anything but that. Maybe even throw an insult his way, tell him those new sunglasses look ugly, or about how you got that internship he would’ve died for. 
Satoru manages to choke out a heavy, “I don’t understand.” But that uncomfortable coil of something curling at the pit of his stomach said otherwise. And it causes him to finally breathe out a hesitant, “Maybe you’re right.”
As if that was all the answer you needed, you’re stepping out of the front door. Slow, and deliberate like you were giving him another chance - a thousand more. Sighing out a defeated, “It’s been years.” It has. “And we’re just running in circles.” You have. “I’m starting to think this is just some game to you.” It wasn’t.
“Wait!” he grasps your hand - soft. The look in your eyes even softer as you turn around to face his desperate face. “Please, sweetheart.”
Satoru doesn’t even know what words he wants to say - let alone whether they’d come out of his heavy mouth. 
So, instead, he’s crashing them into yours. 
Brief. Fleeting. Like each one before this. Too addictive, too short, that he thinks he’s almost imagining it as you pull away gently, until he sees that look in your eyes. 
“Toru, I have a date.”
The fourth kiss.
Satoru’s letting go of you like it burned - and, truly, it felt like some deep, dark part of him was burning down right now. “Great.” That should be hm that should be him that should be- “I’m…happy for you.”
And the last.
He fucked up.
He really, really fucked up.
That first date turned into a second. The second into a third. And unfortunately for Gojo, eventually, you were nearing your one-year anniversary with that asshat you’d met during the early days of your internship. 
He’d seen the man himself once, briefly at another one of Suguru’s famous parties. Ducking out of sight before he could be introduced, yet long enough to know that he wasn’t as tall, or as handsome, or as absolutely fucking hilarious. 
What did he have that Satoru didn’t? 
The answer to that, Satoru’s reminded of every time he’s causing ruckus over at Suguru’s apartment, and sees you walking out of your room, tittering on the phone to none other than your boyfriend. So gorgeous. So not his. 
You, that loser had you.
“If you sigh again I swear I’m shoving this popcorn up your a-”
“It’s a sad movie, Suguru!” he defends, draped across your couch at another one of those movie nights you loved to organize. As usual, there was the popcorn, the god-awful movie (if Satoru picks it), and the arguments. The only thing missing, however, was you. Ugh, something about an “anniversary” and a “seafood date”. Seriously, it’s not like you even enjoyed that new seafood restaurant in town, and he’s sure that bastard didn’t know-
“Satoru.” his best friend’s deadpan voice cuts through his little reverie. “We’re watching Mean Girls.”
And he’s barely even opening his mouth to snark back before-
SLAM!
Suguru pauses the movie almost immediately, turning to the direction of the front door. “Uh oh.” 
And lo and behold - there was you in all your pissed off, beautiful glory. Throwing your keys on the table, your fiery glare passes over the two men as you stomp to your bedroom. 
“Seafood wasn’t that good, sweetheart?” Satoru calls out behind you, eyes sweeping down your figure. Heart stuttering in his chest when you turn around with your fists clenched, lower lip wobbling in a way that Satoru would both kill whoever made you feel this way and die to be on the other side of those daggers in your eye. 
Sniffing out an icy, “Fuck off, loser and loserette.”
Then in a whirlwind of rage, you’re gone - your bedroom door slamming only slightly more gently than you’d done with the front door. Leaving a deafening silence, and Satoru whining, “Why am I the loserette?”
“Deserved.” Suguru shrugs. Warily eyeing your door, as if it was about to pounce at any given second, “Let her cool down before you give her an aneurysm at least.” Unpausing the television, propping his feet back up, “S’enough having to deal with you on top of a boyfriend like that.”
And that has Satoru perking up in interest - both figuratively, and literally as he snatches the remote and pauses the movie. “Wait wait wait what-” Holding it way out of Suguru’s reach, “What do you mean a ‘boyfriend like that’?”
Scoffing, “Funny. Now give me back the remote.”
A beat of silence passes. One. Two.
Only then does it dawn on Suguru that this might just not be some strange prank to stroke Satoru’s ego, and he was actually  more serious than he’d ever seen him. Damn. 
“Bro, have you really never met the guy or something? He’s a complete tool. I don’t know what happened, but this breakup was a long time coming.”
Satoru blinks, feeling a red hot surge of anger. “What? Seriously? Why didn’t you do anything about it?”
“You think I didn’t try?” he sighs, running a hand through his hair at the other’s uncharacteristic silence. “Hah, and just imagine, the man was talking about marriage, too. As if.”
And suddenly, Satoru’s hit with an image of you walking down the aisle. Not something he was a stranger to, but it still takes him aback. The sway of the fabric beneath his fingers, your lips against his. Hell, in that split-second he even dreams up how Nanamin would be crying very reluctant tears of joy. 
Everything. Everything that wasn’t his.
His fist tightens around the remote, until he could hear the cracking of plastic. Mind whirling with the thought of you and him and you. How he wished it was him and you. “I would’ve been better.”
Oh. 
Shit. 
“I- fuck this. Suguru, since elementary school I…”
And, well, Satoru’s so busy putting that extra physics seminar he took in university to work - trying to calculate the odds of surviving a jump out of this seven-storey window - that he almost misses Suguru’s low hum, a distant, almost barely-audible little interruption, “Well duh.”
“Hold on.” he’s snatching away the remote that had somehow slithered its way into the other’s hands once again. Ignoring his best friend’s croak of protests to pause in the middle of Regina George being hit by the bus - which, he felt was strangely enviable right now. “That was- what? YOU KNOW?”
“Huh? Even my parents know, the only one that doesn’t is her.”
“...”
Satoru didn’t know how Suguru seemed so calm, but he felt like he was about to spontaneously combust. Heart stuttering in his chest as he sideglances at your firmly shut door - like he was just waiting for you to jump out and tell him this was some elaborate prank. 
Begging for you to come - it would’ve hurt less.
But you don’t.
Fuck. 
And the only response he gets is a low whistle, before a phone is being shoved in his face - flashlight illuminating that crimson blush. “Damn, the great Gojo Satoru speechless? The groupchat is gonna love this, might even send it to my sister, y’know.” 
He didn’t care - didn’t give a shit if this video made rounds to Gakuganji himself. Only one thought racing through his mind right now. 
“But why aren’t you punching me like in elementary school?” 
And Satoru knows he’s smart - intelligent even. Hell, he was the valedictorian, the youngest employee to claw their way up to being on the board of directors. But he’s never felt more stupid when Suguru breathes out a bewildered, “Dude. That was for blaming me for the paper planes.” 
“Oh.”
Then the movie is unpaused. 
---
The last time you kissed Gojo Satoru was at the doorstep to that overpriced penthouse of his, exactly a year ago today. 
The last time you saw Gojo Satoru was just a few hours ago, lounging around your living room like he owned it. Honestly, he might as well have been part of the furniture at this point - like some expensive, fluffy couch. One that prattled on about your “dumbass boyfriend” and god-knows-what else to rile you up just for the fun of it.
Which is why it was odd to step out of your bedroom - eyes just a bit puffy, throat still tight - to a suspiciously quiet hallway. 
The lights were turned off, nothing but the pouring rain sounding from outside, television paused on some rerun of The Princess Diaries. Damn, you told those idiots not to start that one without you.
“Sugu?” you call, finding his bedroom empty. “Thought tonight was movie night?” Padding across the empty apartment, contemplating whether or not to get your phone and call him when-
Ding!
Ah, there. 
You roll your eyes as you head towards the front door, ready to give Suguru a piece of his mind for going out at this ungodly hour and forgetting his key. Seriously, what if you opened the door and he was hurt, or worse, or…
Satoru. 
Speaking a mile a minute.
Satoru.
“-florist was closed and the store clerk looked at me like I was crazy but I got this for-” he pauses abruptly, as if realizing something with a jolt. “-you.”
“You- what-” you don’t know where to look - at the drenched, disheveled Satoru filling your doorframe - rain in his hair, curtaining his frantic eyes, drenching his snug t-shirt. Or at the obscenely large bouquet of cheap strawberry lollipops being placed gently into your arms. 
What follows was an electric silence - and you have half the mind to tease Satoru for finally shutting the fuck up for once in his life. 
But, no. Instead, you eye the way he stands stubbornly at the doorway, fists clenched, blue eyes locked so intensely on yours that it was like they burned. 
Face flushed a familiar pretty pink that makes you realize that shit, he might be taller, voice deeper, broad shoulders tight against his t-shirt - but this was still the same boy that cried when you stole his favorite Digimon card in middle school. The same one that kissed you underneath a dingy slide, smelling of strawberry lollipops.
It’s the steady tap! tap! tap! of the water droplets from his hair that have you tearing your traitorous eyes from his see-through white t-shirt.
Guess you’ve both done some growing up since then.
“You loser.”
“Yes, sweetheart?”
The pink wrapping of the bouquet rustles as your grip tightens. “He proposed to me today, y’know.” and yet, your quiet, even voice was the only thing ringing in Satoru’s ears. He jolts, as if some visceral, primal part of himself had been poked awake. Breathing heavy, fists clenching until he could feel the neat indents of his fingernails on his palm. Of course. He’s late. He’s late he’s late he’s late-
That is, until you’re plowing on, “I said no.”
“Huh?”
You think back to the stuffy restaurant, the man sitting from across from you - how wrong it felt. And all it took were those four words for you to realize that. “I said no.” 
Satoru snaps his head up, stepping close - so close. Voice strained like he wasn’t asking - begging. Praying, “Why?”
“We…” you raise a brow at the way Satoru flinches as you trail off. So desperate. A smirk makes its way onto your face, “...we haven’t divorced yet, right?”
And then you’re kissing him - or maybe he’s kissing you. 
Fuck, you don’t know - nor do you really care right now. Not when Satoru’s got his lips crashing against yours for the fifth time in your life, kissing you like it would be the last. Big arms dipping down to your waist, pulling you so tight against his muscled frame that he had half the mind to wonder whether it hurt. 
“Love this. Love the way you kiss me- fuck-” he’s spitting against your lips, kicking the door shut behind him. “Oh- would ya get mad if I-” he tries to get out through kisses. Only to suck on your pretty lips with a pained grunt. “If I-” Again and again, like it killed him to part. “-hah- celebrated right now?”
“Yes.” You’re letting the bouquet fall to the foor, white-knuckling that useless, drenched excuse of a shirt. “Now kiss me properly, Toru.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Such a sloppy mix of teeth and hands and him. Shoving a knee between your legs, making up for years and years of late nights with nothing but his fist and the pretty thought of you. 
“Yeah, that’s it, sweetheart.” Satoru breathes out, as your urgent fingers that dispose of his shirt, feeling the gorgeous dips and curves of years of hard work to impress you. “Suck on m’tongue pretty- fuck-” His own fisting your shirt, pulling. Ripping.
“Toru!”
“I want you.” He’s letting the poor, tattered pieces drop in a pile on the floor, trailing a hand between your damp thighs before he can stop himself. “Oh how I’ve wanted you. And I don’t care if I have to buy fifty new outfits to make up for it.”
And it’s the feeling of his long index stroking up your sopping slit through your shorts that has you pulling away with a gasp. Delicate little strings of saliva snapping from Satoru’s kiss-bitten lips. “If we continue like this…” your voice wavers as he presses hot kisses along your collarbone. “-my brother’s gonna walk in.”
“...wouldn’t wanna relive that playground kiss, huh?”
It’s all he says before picking you up so easily, hands resting on your ass. Giving a playful spank ass you wrap your legs around his toned waist. 
And it’s sloppy.
Both his lips still hotly on yours and the way he’s stumbling urgently to your room through pure muscle memory. Pulling away only when you’re all splayed out so prettily for him on your mattress.
“Blue?” he breathes, pulling your shorts off. And it comes out strained - like the very sight of your panties - all soaked and flimsy with your slick - has whatever’s remaining of Satoru’s sanity flying out the window. “Blue? Oh, you’ve gotta have planned this, you little minx.” his hot breath hits your cunt as he shifts down the bed, tongue drawing languid, wet little circles on your inner thigh. “Because don’t tell me this was all for him?”
It was coincidence - or maybe fate - but that doesn’t stop you from giving Satoru a slow, teasing nod. Muttering out, “So what if it was?”
The only answer you get is thumb hooked around your shorts, pulling it just enough so that your brother’s best friend can spy your pretty pussy.
“Well then.” he chuckles at the way you jump when his fingertip just barely grazes your clit. “Guess I jus’ hafta prove m’better.”
A low groan is falling from his lips as soon as they meet your puffy ones, giving your pretty clit a chaste peck. Lingering long enough that he’s sure your sweet sweet juices cover his mouth.
And oh Satoru’s sure he’ll never forget the way your jaw falls slack, glassy eyes following his every move as he runs his tongue along his glossy lips. Savoring your candied taste, “Never kissed you like this before, huh?” 
Fuck, you’re sweeter than he’s imagined.
You whine desperately, something that has him smirking smugly, “Hah, what? Cat got your tongue?”
“You’re better when you shut up.” It’s all you can do to buck your hips into Satoru’s pretty face - not that you had to, because one taste of your dripping cunt and he was addicted. Surging forwards until he was nose-deep, locking your ankles around his head with a firm yank.
And you can’t lie - maybe you’ve imagined this exact scene a few times before on those lonely nights. But you just never expected Satoru to be so depraved. Desperate.
“Ngh- fuck, Toru-” you reach a hand down to thread your fingers through his hair, tugging his face up. But Satoru doesn’t stop - not even for a second. Tongue still dipping to spread your swollen folds with his tongue, looking you right in the eyes as he murmurs a strangled, “Mhm?” 
“Thought you were gonna prove you’re better, hm?”
So goading. So like you. 
At this, Satoru pulls back ever-so-slightly to laugh - laugh. His plump, glistening lips curling into a humorless little grin, “Oh I will.” Thumb circling your throbbing clit. Just dragging your twitching body across the silky sheets close to his, one hand pinning your hips down. Hard. “I will.”
Loving his new favorite place between your legs one hand toys with your clit, quick, messy little patterns. Tongue even more so. 
“Not just better.” he grunts, “Gonna make you cum so much harder, too.” Having your thighs shake with each word hissed out into your cunt, each turn of his deft fingers. “Till I’m the only thing on your mind. Me.”
And it’s all you can do to let out choked up groans of his name, back arching off the plush mattress to let him make out with your cunt deeper. Sloppier. So, so starved with the way he’s speeding up, tongue dragging across your walls. In and out in and out in and-
“Fuck! Hngh-” you angle his head - and he lets you. “There- Toru-”
Honestly, you didn’t even have to tell Satoru - he could feel it. Could feel it in the way your plushy walls are squeezing his hot tongue so harsh, until it was almost difficult to fuck your pussy so sloppily. In the way you’re letting out such delicious whines each time he grazes against those sweet spots. 
“There? Hah- I know.” he pulls away to muse, and your cute, disappointed whine goes straight to his already rock-hard cock. “Did he?”
He didn’t. And you’re shaking your head so pathetically - in a way you’d be embarrassed about usually. 
But that’s the last thing you’re thinking bout because you feel it - the cold, sinful feeling of Satoru spitting on your filthy cunt. Once. Twice. Blue eyes widening in delight at the way the mess of spit and slick drip down your slit. 
“Cute.” his tongue smoothes over the slutty pool, and the only thing your delirious brain can make out now is a low moan of, “So? Who’s better?”
It’s all you can do to choke out a broken little, “T-T-” Face burning at the way he was so clearly enjoying your struggle. And, well, no matter painfully hard it made his dick - he had to go just a bit easy on his girl, right?
“Shhhh, s’alright.” you flinch as he shoves two absolutely drenched fingers into your mouth, making so much more of a mess of it than necessary. Drinking in your cute gags, “I was asking her.” He’s making your head spin with the way he’s speeding up. “N’ she’s hah- very talkative.” Words muffled, and slurring together - like he was drunk off of you and your cunt. “Let’s hear what she has to ngh- say, huh?”
And with that, he’s alternating between lapping at your clit and squeezing into your sloppy entrance - like he couldn’t - didn’t - want to make up his mind. Oh, with your teary mewls strangled, the sound of Satoru making out with cunt is so loud. The squelches so obscene. 
“Fuuuuck.” he drawls. “Louder than I thought. I think she says I’m better, don’t you think?” 
You angle your head just right to catch the way his jaw grinds deeper into you, eating you out like his last meal. Your slick drooling down his chin so sinfully. 
“Ngh- fuck fuck fuck- ngh-” your yelps are dreamy, feeling like you were losing your mind with the way he was stretching you out. 
Like you were about to snap. Any second now. 
But Satoru’s only increasing his movements, drawing out your little moans. “And I think she’s saying…”  Getting sloppier. More erratic - and it didn’t matter if his fingers were cramping up now, cock aching with the need to be inside you. “-that she’s about to cum.”
You do - so hard and loud - both you and your cunt. 
You’re shaking, all but gushing all over Satoru’s mouth, tight pussy squeezing his tongue so hard. Barely even realizing the searing grip you’ve got on his hair as you drag your sloppy pussy all over his mouth.
But Satoru doesn’t mind - he gladly welcomes it, in fact. Tonguefucking your snug cunt senselessly, letting you chase your high as roughly as you wanted. Over and over.
Even when you’re vision isn’t as spotty as before, even when nothing’s coming out of your mouth but little whimpers. Your breathing dying down until all that rings in your barely-lucid mind were those obscene noises of Satoru’s lips all on yours. 
“T-Toru-” you whine, big fat tears pricking at your hazy eyes. “M’so sensitive.”
And of course this is Satoru, the same boy who’s been pushing your buttons for years just to giggle at your adorable reactions. Which is why he grins against your twitching cunt, “So?”
It takes everything in you to raise your head off the pillow that just seemed to be swallowing you whole, and even more to shoot Satoru a half-hearted glare. “So m’gonna ngh- assume you’re jus’ a pussy with a s-smaller dick than-”
You don’t get to finish your sentence - he doesn’t let you. Because Satoru’s fumbling with his belt, peeling off those still-drenched pants just enough for you to admire his clothed erection. 
And, shit, admittedly you expected him to have a big dick - having been subjected to way too much locker room talk with your brother - but this was ridiculous. 
“What? Too big?” He flashes you that infuriating grin. Palming his rock-hard cock through his boxers at the way your beautiful eyes trace the outline of his cock, all swollen and big. So intimidatingly big. “Damn, sweetheart, if I knew that this was how I’d get that feisty lil’ mouth of yours to shut up then I’d have done it a lot sooner.” 
And you don’t even know if you’re breathing, the pads of your fingers dancing along his bulge. Tracing those prominent veins. Thumbing that little damp spot at his fat head. “You wouldn’t have.” 
He hisses as your soft hands dip into the hem of his underwear. Voice cracking slightly, “I wouldn’t.”
Then you’re gasping - in sync with Satoru’s low moan - as you finally let him spring free. Thick cock hitting his sculpted abs, red tip smearing precum in a lewd little pool. Weeping and so so angry at the sight of you.
At the heavenly feeling of your thumb teasing under his sensitive slit, “Oh, shit.” 
He’s throwing his head back when you give an experimental pump, all the way from his pretty tip to the tufts fo white at his hilt. Fist gliding all over the thumping veins. Bucking his hips up like such a slut into your touch. 
“O-oh fuck.” he cracks an eye open at the way your hand looked so small compared to his dick, how well you were taking care of him. “Been ngh- dreaming of this since I learned what handjobs were, y’know? Hah- shit- ya gotta stop before I fuckin’ pass out.”
And Satoru thinks he could cum right then and there at the way you’re bringing your soaked index up to your mouth. Batting your lashes as you suck on them with a lewd pop! “From jus’ that?”
“You have no idea.”
That’s all it takes for Satoru to throw your still-quivering thighs over his shoulders, effectively shutting up whatever tease is on the tip of your sharp tongue by kissing your swollen folds with his fat head. Giving it one, long drag. 
Your mouth is sagging open at the slow, torturous teasing. The sheer anticipation that had your mouth running, “S-so much for ah- jus’ being ‘friends’, huh?”
“Oh, sweetheart.” And you’re flinching from Satoru’s deep, dark tone. The way he’s bracing his fingers so bruisingly on your hips, reeling all the way back till his tip was just kissing your hole. “We stopped being friends the day you married me on that playground.” 
And then he’s slamming in - pushing past that first, feeble ring of resistance, gummy walls stretching out so perfectly for him. As if he fit right in - and he tells you that. Pants it into your open mouth a little over fifteen times, in fact. 
“Shiiiit, look at you.” he can’t tear his eyes away from the side of your lips stretching so wide to try and milk him. Sloppy entrance stretching out like magic. “S’like you’re made for me, huh? This pussy is made f’me?”
“Ngh- fuck, Toru! S’too big-” you keen, feet flattening on the mattress. As if to escape. To maybe fucking breathe.  
Not even half-way in yet, but aleady torn between pushing away and sinking yourself down on his swollen cock for more more more-
“Don’t you dare run away.” he warns, looking up at you through his long lashes. “I’ve waited too long for this. N’ you’re not taking this pretty pussy away any time soon.” Inch by fucking inch. Grinding in short, sharps jabs - no rhythm of rhyme, like they were genuinely out of control. “Way too f-fuckin’-” All the way until your puffy folds was meeting his hilt. Finally. All the way in. “-long.”
And once Satoru had you split apart on his dick - had those tears rolling down your cheeks, cunt swallowing him so sluttily - it’s like something snaps. 
Because he doesn’t waste a second - he’s already wasted almost two decades, anyway - filling you up with his mean hips. Not fucking easing you into it because you always did bring out that part of him, the part that him looping two strong arms around your waist. Pulling. 
“Oh- f-fuck c’mere.” Satoru gasps, pressing your body so crushingly against his. Kissing your shaky shoulers, your sweaty forehead, the gentleness so contrasting to his hips.“God I’ve missed out- fuck fuck fuck-” 
You’ve never seen the great Gojo Satoru - campus sex symbol - so uncomposed. Eyes half-lidded, just boring into yours, mouth slack in a soft oh! as he drags his cock all over inside your gummy walls. And the sight is so heavenly that you make the mistake the mistake of cracking a minute smile.
Just barely curling your lips before - “Don’t smile at me like that.” He’s dipping down a hand to roll your ravaged clit between two bullying fingers. “Fuck, she’s gonna be the death of me. Right?”
You keen at the- stimulation? The strech? The sheer embarrassment as you realize that Satou’s still talking to your sloppy pussy? Nodding so mockingly up at you as he plows on, “Mhm, she says you needa be ngh- knocked down a god, you’re tight- peg or two. So- get- ready-” 
He’s using this as an excuse to sit up on his knees, dragging you onto his lap so easily like some ragdoll. 
“That’s more like it.”
You’re sliding deeper down his painfully hard cock - all the way till his heavy balls rest beneath your ass, clit rubbing against his pelvis every time he bounces you like some slut.  
Deep. Ruthless.
“Keep your eyes open, sweetheart.” He chuckles, and you’re screwing open your eyes that you don’t even remember shutting. Trying so hard to stop crying out at the feeling of the curve of his dick massaging your walls. “Ya gotta hngh- see the o-only one who’d fuckin’ you properly, right?”
You squeal when he’s taking your clit captive once more. Finger quick, deft. “Y-yes.”
But that wasn’t enough for Satoru - it might as well never be. Because he’s only ramming his hips up further. Like he’s pushing into your stomach, your lungs, all the way into your cockdrunk brain. Fat head alternating between kissing your poor, abused cervix and all those sweet spots he’d mapped out with his tongue.
“Sounded unsure to me.” he’s pouty against your hardened nipples bouncing enticingly in his face. Fingers quirking faster on your clit, “Maybe I should ngh- stop then?”
“No!” Your hips stutter against Satoru’s. Nails clawing down the sculpted panes of his shoulders, leaving red angry marks for him to take as a sign tomorrow morning that no, it wasn’t just one of his dreams this time. “No no no- m’sure. You’re the only one makin’ me feel this way.”
You can feel the way he’s twitching wildly at your words, dick thumping harder inside your sensitive cunt. 
He punctures each word with a heavy, calculated thrust. Hand stretching and squeezing open your cunt from behind to let him slide impossibly deeper. “Hmmm, I’m not convinced.” 
Your stupid mouth is only capable of letting out broken, choked-up little moans of his name, ankles locking around those dimples at the end of his spine. “S’you–”
“Still not convinced.”
But he’s still speeding up his movements, just dragging you up and down his cock. “Who else made you hah- feel this good?” Sure to claim you from the inside out - to leave marks everywhere. Heavy balls on your ass, weeping tip on your cervix, lips bruised as you whimper at his murmured, “That ex of yours?” Biting down your neck, “That barista that always flirts with you?” Pulling away only to breathe into your lips, “Who?”
“ I- fuck it’s only you, Toru.”
“Sound convincing to you?” Satoru hums down at your cunt, biting his lower lip at the way you were milking him so good. Your slick soaking him all the way down to his balls - so needy in a way he never thought he’d see. “Yeah-” be breathes, nosing at your neck. “She agrees- fuck does this tight lil’ pussy of yours agree.” A few tears, a few gorgeous marks down his back, and he was finally convinced. “You’re mine.”
You don’t even realize it when you’re cumming, and Satoru doesn’t either.
Both of you too caught up in each other to recognize that familiar, white-hot pleasure running down your spine - all the way down to where he was so mercilessly buried in your cunt.  
And you’re well into the blood roaring deafeningly in your ears, the sight of Satoru - all wrecked - blurring as he fucks his hips up. Harsh. Eyes rolling to the back of his head as he paints your quivering walls white. 
Cumming and cumming so hard that you can feel his seed dribbling down your thighs, making such a mess all over Satoru’s lap. Your poor, overfilled cunt soon bloated and unable to keep up with it.
“Toru–” you whine, like a prayer. Milking the fucking soul out of him while he gently paws at your messy hair.
“Shhh, I know I know, sweetheart.” Such a stark contrast to the way he was filling you up like his favorite sex toy. Not even bothering to move anymore, one hand on your hip, moving your limp body up and down his sensitive cock to fuck it deeper. The other still playing with your clit, “S’alright, my girl”
Satoru’s hands never leave you, and he prays that now that he got a taste - well, you better be alright with them not leaving you for as long as he lives.
“As long as you live, huh?” you chuckle groggily, a noise so dreamy that Satoru can’t even be mad that he said it out loud. “And all that riling me up these years. Do you have a degradation kink or something?”
“Well, only one way to find out~”
“Oh shut up you-”
SLAM!
“Yooo, I bought dinner from that- WHAT THE FUCK?”
There were only two more lessons to be learned:
Always lock the door. Always. And in case you don’t, a bouquet of lollipops will do the trick to a Suguru reeling from the newest addition to the family. 
Cheap takeout tastes better with an apologetic Suguru, and an ice pack to his cheek - and you to kiss it better.
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A/N. Can you tell I kept listening to that one Artemas song while writing this?
Plagiarism not authorized.
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lokissweater · 2 months ago
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to be known .𖥔 ݁ ˖
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{mlb!megumi fushiguro x f!reader}
summary: it’s time to meet papa gojo! and you are absolutely shitting it the moment megumi pulls into his dad’s driveway regardless of his countless reassurance— wanting nothing more than for his dad to like you and earn his respect. in the midst of all the chaos, gojo spontaneously suggests then you all take a trip up to the mountains, you absolutely ecstatic that you get to spend a little getaway with the people you love most. but when gojo reveals to you a heavy— more serious part of megumi’s life that completely throws you by surprise, sorrowful words leave your boyfriend’s mouth upon confrontation.
warnings: MDNI. afab!reader, FILTHY AFF SMUTT, p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it y’all), oral, pussy eating and fingerin YEOWW, DIRTY TALK, squirting, DOMINANT MEGUMI Y’ALL ALREADY KNOW, fluufff!, pet names, cursing, SAD MEGUMI LORE :(, angst af but with comfort, DEVOTED MEGUMI MY LORD!, all characters are aged up.
word count: 18.6k (BROOO LMFAOAOAO I CAANTTT IM SORRY—)
authors note: PARTT THREEE AWWW FUCK MAN!!! this one is centered around megumi and i hope to GODDDD YOU GUYS LOVE IT AS MUCH AS I DO! the amount of love i have gotten from this series is actually fucking CRAZAAYYY i cannot be more thankful i truly cannot express how much you guys mean to me i do not have words but all i can say is that i love you all SO fucking much!! MWAAHHH <333
i highly advise you to read the other parts of this series or else you won’t be able to understand some of the storyline and references :( you can find my mlb!megumi fushiguro masterlist here!
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the minute megumi pulled into gojo’s driveway, you started rambling.
“do i look okay? wait gumi did my hair get messed up when i rolled down the window? fuck! is my top too skimpy? hold on do you think he’ll like the sweets i brought? or should we drive to the market oh god take me to the market—”
megumi reached over and squished your cheeks together with his right hand, muffling your speech and pressing a gentle kiss to your lips.
“you’re fine baby.” he mumbled, gently letting go of your face and unbuckling both your seatbelt and his. “you have nothing to worry about.”
“i have everything to worry about!” you whined. “this is your dad gumi this is so so important and i can literally feel it in my bones how i’m about to fuck this up it’s my sixth sense it’s flaring up—”
he snorted and shook his head, nudging your forehead gently with his index finger.
“stop. put away your sixth sense.”
you smirked.
“only if you pull your big one out if you know what i me—”
megumi whipped his head in your direction with wide eyes and pink cheeks as you slipped into a fit of giggles, you leaning over the console and pressing a sweet kiss to his cheek— a little sly grin slipping from his mouth as you settled back into your seat.
“what?” you shrugged your shoulders, feigning innocence. “i thought i could tell you anything? is this relationship not built out of trust? out of honesty?”
“not if it’s making my dick hard in the middle of my dad’s driveway.” he muttered, and you giggled relentlessly again.
“i’m sorry gumi i’m sorry—” you reached up and caressed his spiky hair softly. “do you wanna put your hand on my tit? maybe it’ll help with—”
“baby!” he gasped. “what is with you right now-”
“gumi— it’s every time you wear that godforsaken white button up it’s driving me nuts and now i’m gonna have to restrain my whore alter ego until we get back to your apartment—”
megumi threw his head back and laughed, his rare big smile shining as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you in, stuffing your face into his chest as you felt his laughter buzz through.
you embraced each other for a quiet moment, his quick heartbeat vibrating against your ear as you cheekily smiled at the speeding rate of it, yours no doubt matching in rhythm with his if not fucking worse as he kissed the top of your head and released you.
“i hope your dad likes me…” you murmured, looking down at your hands and fiddling with the hem of your top.
“he will.” he pushed gently. “trust me please.”
megumi lifted his hand and ran an affectionate thumb over your little cheek, face blank. “i’m more worried about gojo than i’m worried about you.”
“really?” you tilted your head. “how come gumi?”
“because he’s insane.” he responded bluntly, and your mouth flew open as he let his hand fall and settle over your thigh. 
“what— he’s your dad— what do you mean—”
he shrugged a little, but you could tell he was apprehensive.
“he can be a bit much s’all.” 
stuffing his keys into his pocket, megumi opened the door and stepped out, smoothly jogging over to the other side and opening yours as you gave him a cute smile in return, hopping out.
walking up the steps of gojo’s driveway felt like you were stepping into the gates of mount fucking olympus— his house ginormous and elegant with the biggest lawn you had ever seen, intricate gold arrangements running across his front double doors as you approached, all that had you completely in awe and astonished and thankful over the place that megumi grew up in— knowing that without this upbringing he wouldn’t be doing what he was giftedly doing now on baseball fields across the country.
he reached and pushed the doorbell, a grandeous chime ringing through the air as you nervously bounced on your feet holding the little treats you brought for his dad, megumi looking at you from the side and giving you a little reassuring squeeze through your interlocked fingers, easing your jitters a bit.
the doors swung open then— dramatically and flashy as a tall fluffy white haired man stood in the middle with his arms out, his striking blue eyes and significant smile making you freeze in place.
he was respectfully kind of handsome… anybody with eyes could probably see that. and you wanted nothing more at that moment than for him to think highly of you and like you just as much as you already did him— for anyone who took megumi under his wing and raised a man that was as gentle and kind as he was, was worth knowing.
“meguuumiiii!”
“oh god—”
gojo threw his long arms around his shoulders and mushed a cheek up against megumi’s head, rubbing it endearingly from side to side as he gushed and cooed.
“aw my son my son my son! it’s been too long so long—”
“i saw you last week.” megumi grumbled as he tried to push him off, gojo’s grip only tightening in response.
he gasped. “nonsense! i hardly remember.”
and you giggled, gojo’s eyes snapping to yours then and widening as he practically shoved megumi off and stretched his arms out for you.
“and you!” he pulled you in and squished you up against his chest. “you’re the one who melted megumi’s cold dark treacherous mean heart you sweet tiny thing—”
“gojo let her go.”
“—such grace such talent how did you get him to start being nice?! i saw it on the mlb network—”
“satoru.”
“i can’t even get him to tell me that he loves me he’s an ungrateful little brat—”
megumi quickly stepped around and snaked his arms around your waist— pulling and yanking as gently as he possibly could but finding it difficult seeing as his dad was being fucking mental towards you, the both of them bickering and literally wrestling as you tugged and swayed limply in between.
“off. now.”
“megumi release her you’re throwing around your wife—”
“you’re squishing her get— off!”
a little oven ping made gojo stand upright, an eager excited expression on his face as he quickly let you go, took the treats you brought with a thank you, and started skipping inside the house— megumi catching you as you stumbled back a little with gojo’s voice gradually fading from your ears.
“you guys come in come in! i wanna show you something i just bought its international meaning not from here—”
megumi groaned and slumped his forehead to rest on your shoulder, your back to him as he held your waist a bit tighter… and you really couldn’t help but giggle a little at their theatrics, craning your head in attempts at getting his attention.
“what’s wrong?” you asked softly, trying to wiggle your body around to face him but his grip stubbornly preventing you from doing so.
“nothing.”
“are you lying?”
“yeah.”
you laughed. “tell me baby…”
“…he’s gonna scare you away.” he mumbled.
“scare me away?” you huffed out a shocked laugh. “gumi— with every passing day that we’re together i feel like i’m gonna scare you away.”
he snorted and shook his head at your stupid statement, finally lifting himself up as you took advantage of the opportunity and turned around, giving him a comforting smile.
“i like him!” you beamed. “he’s funny, and he gave me a hug! that’s a good sign is it not? he doesn’t hate my guts yet right?”
megumi gave you a look. “he won’t ever.”
“we don’t know that…” you muttered, letting megumi interlace your fingers and pull you inside the house. “i haven’t started talking his ear off about the atrocious sandwich i had this morning—”
you looked at him. “you know the one i let you try back at the—”
“—ohh that’s right.” he tilted his head in thought. “it was pretty bad though it was dry..”
“right?! they didn’t even put mayo in it and i love mayo or something at least more—” you froze. “fuck! baby see?!”
megumi chuckled and caressed the back of your hand with his thumb. “see what?”
“see what.” you muttered with pursed lips, eyes to the floor. “you indulge my yapping gumi and that’s bad.”
“because i like it.”
“do you also like it when i get on top and—”
“oh my god—”
“taadaa!”
gojo’s arms were stretched out in the spacious enormous living room that was probably bigger than your own freaking house combined— long grey lounge sofas along the center over marble flooring and a modernized coal fireplace behind him, all adorned with a glittery gold chandelier shining beautifully from the ceiling like a stunning halo.
“my new installment.” he smiled cheesily. “my pride and joy.”
“you bought… a chandelier.” megumi mumbled.
“mhm! sure did!”
“why.”
“to keep me company.”
“to keep—”
“megumi if you don’t want me to be happy you can just admit that this is a safe space—”
you quickly slapped a hand over your mouth to suppress your laugh, gojo giving you a little grin before turning his attention back to a grumbling megumi.
“every time i come here you’ve spent money on dumb shit.”
you gasped. “gumi!—”
“oh it’s okay sweetheart don’t worry.” he crossed his arms. “i’m used to his abuse.”
“don’t tell her that.“ he looked to you. “he’s being dramatic okay—”
“am not!” gojo pointed a finger. “he’s lying! come ‘ere y/n let me explain—”
“no.”
megumi tightened his hand around your interlocked fingers, mumbling. “can we just get on with dinner please.”
and his dad perked up with a big smile. “oh that’s right!”
gojo happily paved the way through the house, rambling about the various layers of his chandelier and how each crystal was imported from the ‘labyrinths of italy’ (as he put it), you trying your absolute best to listen and respond politely, but having a hard time seeing as you felt like a dark black misty fog was swirling around megumi that shot a chill up your spine, his head down to the floor as you eyed him worriedly.
you stoop up on your tippy toes and gave him a soft kiss on the cheek, his gaze flickering to yours then and he weakly flashed you a wary tiny smile.
“s’okay gumi!” you whispered cutely, reaching and running your fingers lovingly through his hair with your unoccupied hand. “everything is going great, don’t stress.”
“are you okay?” he murmured, and you nodded rapidly, dropping your arm.
“of course i am!” you spoke gently. “i’m worried about you though.”
“m’fine.” he shook his head, squeezing your hand. “i’m fine if you’re fine.”
unbeknownst to you, gojo didn’t miss the little chatter that was going on behind him with your endearing words, and he smiled softly to himself— your interaction and the way you spoke to each other slightly lifting a brooding weight from his chest that had been there since megumi was a teen.
upon arriving at the dining room, both you and megumi’s eyes widened as they looked over the mass amounts of various dinner foods lined neatly across the center, all of which strongly resembled a stereotypical thanksgiving feast as the platters glistened and shined with various juices and cooking oils.
“you made this much food knowing it was just us three?” megumi mumbled.
gojo quickly nodded his head. “uh huh!”
“and did you actually make it?”
“uh huh!”
megumi gave him an annoyed look. “did you?”
“nuh uh!”
megumi’s shoulders slumped and he covered his eyes in disappointment, lips pulled into a thin line as you giggled to yourself.
“i still think it looks great!” you replied sweetly. “do you need help setting up the table? i can go grab—”
“oh no! god no you sit.” he grinned. “megumi can do it.”
“but i—”
megumi scooched a chair out and gently pulled you to sit, pushing it in as you did before wordlessly disappearing behind a wall into the kitchen to do as he was told, a slow sneaky little grin spreading across gojo’s face as he watched.
quickly, he slammed his hands flat on the table and looked at you with big excited eyes as you stiffened, alarm crossing your face as you fidgeted and squirmed under his stare.
“who said i love you first? who kissed who first? who confessed first? have you guys done the freaky freak yet—”
you choked on your spit as your cheeks blazed at his last question, trying to come up with a proper answer to all of them but only stammering nervously as he kept throwing questions at you.
“oh! well— well he— and i—”
“who initiated the freaky freak—”
“gojo.”
your heads snapped to a disgusted megumi with pinched brows, his hands occupied with dark blue porcelain stacked plates, silverware, and napkins.
“what the hell are you asking her—”
“what?! you won’t tell me and she was just about to! haven’t i raised you to wait until a conversation between two people is finished before butting in-”
“looked more like harassment.” he mumbled as he placed the shiny plates and silverware down in front of each of you, you laughing cutely at his comment and megumi shooting you a small smile.
gojo gasped. 
“how dare you?! i would never do such a thing to your precious little girlfriend!” his eyes snapped to yours, a pleading puppy dog look on his face. “you know that right?”
you giggled and nodded quickly, waving him off reassuringly. “it’s okay! really i don’t mind anything at all.”
“see!” gojo spat. “she accepts me.”
“you’re lucky she does.” megumi countered, coming around and sitting down on the chair next to you, scooting up before placing a soft hand over your thigh under the table.
megumi was suffering on the inside over gojo’s behavior and completely fucking embarrassed that you had to see him act this way, though he honestly should have expected it— him unknowingly growing pretty immune to his sporadic antics since he had been around gojo for the majority of his life. 
and that was a mistake, because having you here was like someone dunked his entire body with a bucket of chilling ice cold water to wake him the fuck up and make him see that gojo was, in fact— still insane.
but you seemed to be just fine… chatting back and forth with gojo about various topics as you both bounced off of several different things without even finishing the prior subject, megumi easing now that it looked like you weren’t worried sick over his dad loving you or not, him already knowing from the start he was going to.
and the food was inexplicably delicious as you ate, gojo revealing to you that he had personal private chefs come in to prepare the bundle of dishes for the both of you to eat for tonight’s dinner— him expressing that if he had cooked himself, his newly bought chandelier would’ve somehow came crashing down and he would’ve for some reason died along with it.
“and what do you do?” gojo beamed. “do you work?”
“i go to school!” you responded politely. “it’s about fifteen minutes from his stadium actually.”
he gasped. “megumi! you snatched an educated woman! has he taken the time to visit you on campus?”
“oh yes of course!” you nodded. “he picks me up for my morning lectures and takes me everyday, and then i go to his practices and games after my classes.”
“oh my god.” he slapped his hands over his eyes and hunched over. “a healthy beautiful balanced relationship oh what a blessing what a gift what a-”
gojo stopped, his head snapping back up and looking at you both from across the table.
“have you guys gone on a trip together yet?”
you both shook your heads confusedly.
“haahh?!” he shot megumi a glare. “why haven’t you taken her out on a vacation yet? is this how you show y/n your appreciation for her? with all of your mlb money? this— this can’t be—”
“n—no!” you stammered, placing a hand on megumi’s shoulder. “it’s okay! he does too much for me way too much i always feel appreciated that isn’t necessary—”
“—what her and i do is none of your business—”
“yes it is!” he cut megumi off. “the woman is a beauty do you really think nobody else wants her?! take her to a damn nba game see what happens—”
“do you think i’m not aware—”
“i got it!”
gojo shot up with his index finger pointing up dramatically, wiggling it with a shining smile.
“let’s all go on a trip and take a gander at nature!”
“huh?” megumi’s eyes narrowed. “a trip— nature—”
“yup!” he nodded. “i went to a place back in my youth in the middle of the woods that had the clearest, bluest, waterfall lake thing i had ever swam in. its perfect! us three can be one with the tides—”
“no.”
“…gumi we should.” you spoke sweetly and quietly, nudging his shoulder a little. “he wants to spend time with us… with you especially.”
he looked at you then with a strained expression— the idea of going on a trip with an erratic gojo sounding like something straight out of the pits of hell… but you wanted to. 
and megumi could never say no to you.
“just us three?” he mumbled, eyes drifting back his dad.
“i have an even better idea—”
gojo sped away from the dining table and over to the large marble counter top island that sat in the middle of the kitchen, him pulling out his laptop from a random drawer and opening it up. “yuji and his girlfriend should come too! it’ll be like a best friend’s trip! they can come over right now eat dinner all of you sleepover and then we leave tomorrow morning—”
you gasped excitedly, megumi eyeing your beaming hopeful smile at the mention of your best friend and yuji potentially coming, his heart and face softening at the way your pleading doe eyes looked at him.
“can we gumi?” you asked hopefully as gojo continued to babble on and click away on his laptop. “it—it’s okay if you don’t, really. i don’t ever want to do something you don’t want to do.”
“you wanna go?” he murmured, reaching up to pat over and caress the top of your head.
you looked at him shyly, gnawing at your bottom lip. “yeah… it sounds really fun and i love the idea of going somewhere with you like that… and— and my best friend would be there too with yuji! if they decide to come…”
megumi hummed, his hand coming down to poke your pink cheek with his index finger softly before leaning and pressing a kiss to your lips.
“s’okay.” he nodded. “we can go.”
“really?!” you gushed. “are you sure?”
“of course pretty baby.”
you squealed and cupped his face, bringing him down as you peppered kisses all over his mushed up cheeks as he laughed.
“thank you thank you thank you—”
“—book for two nights leave in the morning possibly italy next— okay done!”
gojo proudly stood back with his hands on his hips, smiling at his laptop before his eyes came back up to the both of you, you releasing megumi’s face.
“already?” you gushed.
“uh huh!” he skipped over to the table. “we leave tomorrow morning together, drive up the mountains, we get to the air bnb that night, sleep, wake up the next morning and hike up through the national park until we get to the waterfall, swim, go back to the air bnb when we’re done, and then we leave the following morning!”
you and gojo stood and cheered happily while jumping up and down, megumi calmly sitting back and huffing out a breath through his nose.
“do you even know if yuji and her best friend can go?” he spoke. “have you asked?”
you both stopped.
“no but i’ll ask right now!—” gojo dashed out of the dining room and down the hall, his fast footsteps echoing through the house as megumi rolled his eyes.
they said yes.
“y/nnnn!”
the minute your girl friend and yuji stepped through the front doors, you ran with open arms as you threw yourself on them and jumped up and down excitedly, megumi watching with amused eyes as the three of you chanted and bounced like little kids.
“trip! trip! trip! trip!”
“oh heeeyyy! good to see you both again.” gojo greeted, yuji and your girl friend immediately throwing themselves on him and jumping up and down again.
“thank you for this all inclusive trip you rich rich man!—” your best friend cried as yuji butt in. 
“—yes! thank you satoru you’re a gift you’re a saint—”
“you’re the hottest dilf i know!—”
“oh nonsense!” gojo waved them off cheekily, putting on a show of faux nonchalance. “i’m just coming for parental supervision you guys have earned this.”
you all spent the rest of the night together playing board games in the living room and watching movies in gojo’s home movie theatre, you and your best friend laughing from time to time at megumi’s constant bickering with his dad and yuji’s lovesick devotion to gojo— all of which that’s been there since megumi and yuji were in high school.
and you were having the best time you’ve ever had in your fucking life as you snuggled up with megumi on his lap while watching movies, surrounded by the people you loved most in the entire world while you all laughed and ate and basically did whatever the fuck you all wanted— your tummy’s hurting from scarfing down packs of gummy worms and leftover food from dinner.
“oh! oh! let’s watch human earthworm four now!” yuji jumped, pointing at the big screen.
“aw no! that one’s gross babe!” your girlfriend whined. “you’ve made me watch it like a million times alreadyyy.”
“but megumi and y/n haven’t seen it!”
“yes i have.” megumi cut in.
“y/n hasn’t seen it!”
“no! i’m trying to save her eyes from that wretched movie—” she craned her neck to look at you from her seat. “it’s good but it’s bad y/n.. i couldn’t sleep for three days straight after.”
you giggled and sleepily fixed the fluffy throw blanket that was over you and megumi, him finishing the job off for you and readjusting himself so you could get more comfortable on his lap, you enveloped entirely in his warm arms while gojo snored away somewhere in his seat.
“m’okay with anything!” you spoke, your boyfriend picking up on the tiny sleepy slur in your voice.
“okay so human earthworm four—”
“—no! please! i thought you loved me!—”
“i do! but human earthworm four!—”
“we should go to sleep baby.” megumi murmured in your ear as they went back and forth, and you shook your head.
“nuh uh.”
“c’mon.”
megumi started shifting, and you quickly tightened your arms around his neck and pulled him back.
“no i’m awake i’m awake.” you mumbled. “i wanna stay.”
“it’s already late though...” he gently reasoned. “i can feel you falling asleep.”
he smiled softly when you shook your little head again with fluttering sleepy lashes, him pressing a soft baby kiss to your nose before tugging an arm underneath your legs and the other over your back before standing, pulling you up and carrying you.
“we’re gonna go sleep.” megumi announced to the other two, and their heads turned.
“aw yuji look! he’s carrying her like a little bride—”
“aw niceee megumiii!—”
“god.” he muttered, readjusting his grip a little before turning and leaving the theatre, you already fast asleep as he carried you down various dark hallways before reaching the main grand staircase area, the beaming moonlight seeping through the giant windows as they illuminated the same familiar path he used to walk many times before since the age of six, but having an entirely different outlook on it now that you were there on the same path with him.
gojo had his personal assistant drive you and megumi sometime in the night beforehand to get your suitcases for the trip and pack your things, megumi now finding them neatly in the corner of his childhood bedroom as he entered, pleased to see that it was nearly left untouched since the day he moved out.
you stirred in his arms, your mind almost sensing that you were in his room as your eyes opened and slowly scanned their surroundings, a little gasp escaping your lips.
“is this your room gumi?” you spoke softly.
“mhm.”
“oh!” you wiggled and he gently set you down, you pulling the blanket over your shoulders as you looked around.
his room was huge, or at least bigger than the normal average room would normally be, and it was so… him. black bed sheets and black furniture, gray carpeting with a big gray desk chair neatly tucked in, a tall bookcase that held a combination of various philosophical books and manga all shuffled together, and a big bulletin board nailed to a wall that had push pinned photos scattered about.
you perked up, curious as you walked over to the board to get a closer look at each photograph, smiling when you spotted many of megumi and yuji playing for their baseball team in high school, pictures of the field or a glove holding a ball, and several others of megumi serious in his uniform next to a big grinned gojo. 
“gojo made it and hung it on the wall.” he spoke softly. “said my room lacked feeling or something like that.”
“i love it…” you murmured. “you look so cute in these gumi.”
you leaned and looked closer at one of the photos— it entailing megumi who looked to be maybe seven or eight, and a very young looking gojo with an arm swung over his little shoulders, the both of them throwing a peace sign.
you lifted your hand and gently ran your index finger over the glossy photograph, your eyes softening.
“is this when he took you in?”
megumi walked up and bent down a bit to get a better look.
“yeah. it had only been a year or two i think.”
you nodded in understanding, and as your hand fell to rest on your side, your gaze caught another photo—
a photo of you.
one that megumi took on one of your night outs except you were completely unaware to the fact that he did until this very moment— your eyes trained to the mirror visor in his car while applying lip gloss in the photo, you wearing his black leather jacket with a denim skirt on.
pointing, you looked behind you at megumi.
“it’s me.”
he nodded.
“did gojo pin this here?”
“no.” he shook his head. “i did.”
your eyes widened as your head turned back to the photo, your cheeks burning up. 
“i pinned it there when i came to visit him after we hung out that day.” he murmured. “s’my favorite.”
you swallowed, your heart hammering in your chest.
“how come it’s your favorite?”
his eyes stayed glued to the picture.
“because you look beautiful.” he answered. “and because you’re in my car. in my jacket. and with me.”
you felt your smile grow as you looked up at him, your entire body fuzzing and tingling over as he looked back down at you, both of your cheeks a vibrant pink under the dark moonlight.
“i love you.” he spoke softly.
your eyes softened, arms coming up to wrap around his neck and pull his forehead to yours as he reciprocated and held you, an emotional lump building in your throat at his genuine beautiful words— words that may be short and simple to others, but everything to you because it was megumi.
“i love you too, gumi.” you gently pecked his lips. “so much.”
and he smiled.
a full closed lipped one as he tightened his grip around your waist and lifted you up off the floor, carrying you over to his bed and delicately laying you down as he kissed you again and again, his cold hands slipping underneath your shirt to rest tenderly on the bare skin of your torso.
megumi pulled back to look at you, his eyes unexpectedly widening at the sight of you spread out underneath him like you were, with your gorgeous hair sprawled out and your pinky cheeked face looking up at him timidly while on his childhood bed, a sight he oddly didn’t expect himself to get hard as a fucking rock over.
“what baby?” you whispered.
he shook his head and pecked your lips before helping you sit up, walking over to his suitcase after and unzipping it open to reveal his tidy folded up clothing, him rummaging through it for a little before pulling out what you recognized to be one of his big gray sleep shirts.
“you wanna wear this to bed?” he asked you, holding it up.
you nodded happily, holding your hands up for him to throw and catching it once he did, you immediately stripping down with no fucks given to nothing but your black panties as you slipped the shirt on over your head and untucked your hair from underneath, loving that it smelled like him.
you both proceeded to do your little night routines that you did whenever you slept over at his place, and after you washed your face, brushed your teeth and applied a little moisturizer in his personal bathroom, you flicked off the light and jumped into bed with a waiting megumi, his arms immediately coming around over your waist and pulling your back to his bare chest as you both got comfortable.
but after a few minutes of silence—
megumi was still fucking hard.
and he was actually way worse than before, since now you were in his shirt and the only thing you had underneath was a pair of panties with no bra on, your juicy tits just inches from his grubby hands as they itched and burned to grope them in the rudest way possible.
and he wondered what it would be like to fuck you dumb on his childhood bed.
but he couldn’t. you were previously tired and sleepy and he wanted to respect that, concluding now that you were probably already drifting off as your breathing evened out over the soft murmur of the wind outside, your face heavenly against the moonlight through his gigantic window next to his bed. 
amidst the whirling of his horny perverted brain as he tried to calm his thoughts and let you sleep, he was already unknowingly grinding his hard dick against the fat of your ass, his shirt on you riding up as he did until he was fully rutting against your bare yummy cheek.
he tightened his grip around you and buried his nose into your hair, inhaling and squeezing his eyes shut as he tried to will himself to fucking stop and just let you sleep, but cursing under his breath when he felt you shift and lift your head a little.
“gumi?” you mumbled sleepily. “what are you doing..?”
“nothing.” he spoke into your hair. “go to sleep pretty baby.”
you sighed deeply and closed your eyes again, but it only took megumi an entire sixty seconds before he started grinding his dick on your ass again.
and you were wide awake at this point, the ache in between your legs severe as he mindlessly panted and grunted softly against your ear— delicious hot fucking noises that riled you up and had you grinding your ass back into him, feeling his pajama clad big solid dick against your skin.
he breathed in a sharp breath through his nose when he felt you do it, burying his face even further into your soft hair as he rutted on you harder this time, more forceful as he groaned and shoved a hand down your panties.
you gasped and looked down, his skilled fingers already working you so good and spreading your juices all over your clit and folds as your hips bucked up against his digits, his hips still grinding desperately on your ass as he pressed sloppy wet kisses over the side of your cheek.
“g-gumi—” you whined.
“hm?”
he slipped and pumped a finger inside you and you whimpered.
“we can’t— we can’t go past this okay i don’t want your dad or anyone else to hear us.”
“we can’t?”
megumi slipped his hands out of your panties as you turned around to look at him, your eyes widening at the way he stuck his tongue out and pressed his arousal covered middle and ring finger flat on it, licking and sucking on it lewdly with an open mouth as he looked at you with half lidded eyes.
“n—no.” you gulped, your pussy feeling pathetically empty as it craved and meowed for megumi’s cock even though you just told him a lying no, wanting nothing more than for him to throw you around and make you cry but horrified over the thought of everybody else in the house hearing.
“no?”
he shifted on top of you and in between your legs, your breath hitching as you watched him grab the hem of your shirt and slowly pull up until he hit the lower fat of your tits just below your nipples, his bottom lip pulled into his teeth as he tugged the rest of it up and groaned over the way your tits spilled out of his shirt, megumi already starting to grind his cock against your pussy again.
“holy fuck.” he mumbled, dazed eyes trained to the way your boobs bounced with every hump he made, his mouth and hands quickly coming down to squish your tits and drag his tongue over your perked up nipples, wasting no time at all in slobbering and sucking all over them as you moaned and whimpered at the feeling of his wet hot tongue all over your tits, your fingers gripping the bedsheets beneath you.
he released your nipple with a pop and leaned back, his fingers hooking underneath the straps of your panties and pulling them down before he tossed them somewhere in his room— followed by his pajamas and boxers.
“but i miss you baby..” he mumbled, rubbing the length of his cock between your wet warm folds. “miss you and the way your pussy sucks up my dick…”
you whined, your hips jerking with each rub that his tip made against your clit as it slipped up and down, your shaky fingers suddenly encircling around his cock and pumping it for him, megumi moaning as you did and your lashes fluttering at the sounds of his pre cum covered dick squelching against each yank of your wrist.
“i’ll go slow hm?…” he fucked himself into your hand, breathless. “and we’ll just… we’ll just be quiet…”
you bit your bottom lip, squeaking at the way his tip would nudge up against your little hole as he moved. 
“s—slow okay?” you whispered and guided his cock down to your entrance, megumi immediately lining himself up and pushing his big dick in slowly as you squirmed underneath him. “go— go slow i don’t want them to hear—”
“i’ll go slow pretty baby don’t worry.” he murmured, caressing his thumbs over your tummy as he pumped himself inside little by little, his body shivering in delight over the way you screwed your eyes shut and twitched as you tried to take all of him, licking your lips once he was fully in as he gently started pumping his dick in your puffy cunt.
but megumi was a fucking liar.
because it only took a total of five minutes for megumi to start pounding into your little pussy like a rabid beast, his hands clutching the beds headboard in front of him as his mattress squeaked and hit against the wall violently, you choking and gasping at every drilling slam of his hips.
“hah!— gumi!” you hiccuped. “s—slow downnn pleeaasee they’re gonna wake up!—”
“who fucking cares.” he grunted, one of his hands letting go of the headboard and grabbing a fistful of your tits as his eyes screwed shut in pure nasty ecstasy, your tight tight pussy drinking and slurping him up as he slammed against you, your body bouncing with every thrust.
“but—but you saaiidd!—”
you squealed as he fucked you harder and leaned down to bite your red hot cheek.
“how about you take what i give you yeah?”
you moaned pornographically loud, the way he was being extra mean doing a number on you as he nastily licked a long soothing stripe over where he bit you on your cheek, his lips coming down to hover directly over your ear as he placed a hand over your mouth, muffling your whines.
“shhh—” pant! “baby not so loud—”
“mmm!”
you breathed heavily through your nose as he rammed you, him hating the way he couldn’t openly hear your sweet moans anymore as he opted to moving his hand away and turning your face with his fingers, lips to his ear.
“just moan in my ear—” he choked. “moan please.”
“goddddd gumi you always fuck me so good—”
“yeah?” pat pat pat— “you like it when i fuck you like this pretty baby?”
hic! “uh huh!”
“shit—” he shoved his face into the side of your hair and hovered his lips over your ear. “and only me right? not gonna let any other low life fucking loser in your life anywhere near you when you have me right?”
“n—never!” you hiccuped. “only you i don’t ever want any— hah!— anyone else again—”
you practically screamed as you unexpectedly came all over his dick, your gushy walls spazzing around it as your pussy squelched out warm liquid, your squirt covering megumi’s lower tummy and sheets.
“attaaa girllll.” he groaned, quickly coming up and letting go of the headboard as he gripped your bruised waist with his hands, him throwing his head back and heaving as he fucked you sensitive on his cock with his balls begging for release that megumi was more than happy to give— you gasping at the way he quickly slipped his dick out from inside you and jerked himself off violently for literally a second before he came all over your tummy and pussy with a loud moan, coating all of you in his gooey release.
“fuuucckk.” he breathed out, his body shaking as he slowly pumped and milked out the last few drops of his cum with a strong grip on your thigh, you completely and utterly fucked out and dazed at the way he used you just the way you liked it, him slowly running his softening dick over your cum covered pussy and in between your folds as you twitched at the sensitivity— spreading it around as you both tried to catch your breaths.
“you okay?” his hands came up and gently brushed some of your hair away from your face, you nodding ditzy and red cheeked as he tucked a few strands behind your ears and kissed your forehead lovingly.
“stay here.” he murmured as he moved and got off the bed, your eyes closing but opening again after a minute once you felt him in between your thighs with his fucking phone out pointing at you.
“gumiii!” you whined and laughed. “why are you taking a picture?”
he shrugged, but peered up at you with a little knowing smile on his face. “to pin on the board.”
your eyes blew open in terror as you watched the flash go off and him place his phone back on his nightstand after, you frantically shaking your head.
“you can’t! baby your dad is gonna see it you can’t!—”
he cutely laughed as he got up again and went inside his bathroom, coming back in with a little hand towel before opening your legs gently and cleaning you up, tossing it across the room in his hamper then before laying down next to you and pulling your body to his, the both of you entangling with each other as megumi pulled the covers over.
“i’ll keep it in my wallet then.”
“no! gumi!—”
the following morning, all of you got up bright and early to shower, get ready, and finalize your packing as you hauled various suitcases down the grand staircase (yuji literally throwing his down and crying when it popped open halfway with his clothes spilling out) and all eventually climbed inside a big fat luxury shiny van that gojo personally rented for the trip.
“wow satoru!” your best friend gushed. “even the seats are so lush! and they have screens with movies look yuji look!”
“oh my god i see human earthworm four—”
“no!”
gojo smiled big through the rear view mirror at you all as he made various erratic dangerous turns and lane changes while out on the road, megumi gripping you and his seat for dear life whenever he sharply swerved and cut somebody off with their horn blaring.
“gojo you are going to kill us—”
“oh hush megumi! i was about to miss the exit i had to do what daddy had to do—”
“don’t ever call yourself that ever again—”
“daddy gojo! daddy gojo! daddy gojo!”
your best friend and yuji bounced around and chanted from the back in their seats, megumi groaning and stuffing his face into your neck as you laughed and ruffled up his soft black hair, giving him a comforting kiss to the top of his head.
the four hour drive there was filled with a mix of yuji and gojo yelling and excited about every single wildlife animal they saw run in front of the van, you and your best friend chattering about all the pictures you were gonna take and how they had to be candid or else you were both drowning yourselves in the lake, and megumi still bickering with his dad about his driving and his lack of awareness for the road.
“oh! gumi gumi!” you shoved your hand inside your bag of gummy worms and pulled one out. “let’s do the thing! the lady and the tramp thing it’ll be cuteee!”
“the what?” he watched you as you plopped one end of the gummy worm in your mouth and puckered up the other side, ushering him to take it as he huffed an amused breath through his nose and leaned forward, biting the other end before you both moved closer along the sugary worm until your lips connected together.
a click of a camera made you both quickly spring apart, a mischevious looking yuji and your best friend with their phones out snickering from above the backrest of your seat.
“up to nasty activities again we see?” yuji wiggled his eyebrows.
“again?!” you gawked. “what— what do you mean— when—”
“megguuumiii…” your best friend dragged. “i knew you were freaky but i didn’t know you were this freaky…”
he froze, eyes wide.
“i have no idea what you’re talking about!” you quickly sputtered. “absolutely no idea— nuh uh gumi do you know?”
“nope.”
“yeah me neither—”
“you sure?” your girl friend quirked a brow. “pretty sure it sounded something like ‘god gumi you always fuck me so good—‘”
yuji cut in. “—‘only me right? not gonna let any other loser anywhere—‘”
you both jumped over the backrests and lunged at the both of them, all of you screaming and yelling as you quickly covered over your best friends mouth and megumi wrestled with yuji to get the two of them to shut the fuck up, gojo craning and leaning over to get a look from the drivers seat at what was going on.
“if you love me you’ll stop!” you screamed. “and you’ll let me brainwash you and condition you into forgetting everything you heard last night—”
“but it’s funny!—”
“children! you’re shaking the van what’s going on back there?” gojo called from the front.
“it’s shaking because you’re going ninety miles per hour and swerving.” megumi spat over his shoulder as he had yuji in an arm lock. 
“please! spare me!” yuji gasped. “we play baseball together man! we won the world series like seven months ago please let me bask in the glory a little while longer—”
megumi rolled his eyes and let him go, silently walking over and wrapping his arms around your waist before pulling you off of your best friend as you kicked and yelled, your girl friend cackling and pointing at you as your boyfriend dragged you back to your previous seats.
you huffed and crossed your arms as he set you down, megumi biting hard on his tongue to refrain himself from laughing.
“i’m putting you on a sex ban.” you muttered.
he let a laugh slip out as he leaned over to look at your face, you looking to the side defiantly.
“a sex ban?” he repeated. “for what?”
“for being bad.”
he reached over and pinched your cheek softly. “and what did i do?”
“you bewitched me last night with your big dick and handsome face and told me we would be quiet and slow and you lied to me.”
megumi snickered as he pulled you over to his chest by your shoulders in a hug, squishing his cheek up against yours.
“m’sorry.” he mumbled. “i’ll make it up to you.”
you grunted in response and he chuckled.
“i’ll let you steal the greece magnet from the cafe.”
you shot up like a light with wide eyes and the biggest smile he had ever seen over something so simple as a magnet— and his heart softened.
“really? really?! you mean it?!”
he looked at you with a tiny smile and nodded.
“suddenly the sex ban’s been lifted there was never such a thing i don’t even remember when i said that i don’t know what you’re talking about—”
at some point during the trip you all knocked out dead asleep for a couple of hours, gojo chugging literally five energy drinks in one sitting to keep himself awake (even though you all offered to drive, him refusing) until you finally arrived at the cabin air bnb in the middle of the night— gojo taking advantage and snapping pictures of all of your sleeping faces and cooing before gently waking you up.
gojo truly went over the top and rented the biggest fucking cabin any of you had ever seen, a gorgeous one that sat on top of a hill and overlooked the stunning views of the national park and over other dimly lit cabins below, the subject of light pollution completely nonexistent as the constellations twinkled with pride.
the men carried in the suitcases while you and your best friend frantically tried to capture the stars through your the cameras on your phones, whining when it just didn’t look the same as in person and you slapping a hand over your forehead once you realized you forgot your digital camera at home like always.
“what do we think my kids?!” gojo exclaimed with his arms out as he spun around in the main living room. “exquisite? tranquil? yummy?”
“yummy!” you all exclaimed and jumped on gojo once you came in the house, megumi staring with his arms crossed as the three of you squeezed and rubbed your cheeks over his dad comically.
“and what is satoru gojo for? hmmm? to live lavish!”
“or almost run us off the cliff.” megumi muttered, grabbing yours and his suitcase before walking up the stairs to claim a room.
the rest of you eventually went up to your respective rooms, exhausted from being in the van for freaking four hours and needing to rest up for the hike tomorrow morning, eager to see and swim in the big glorious lake gojo couldn’t stop talking about since the moment he booked the trip.
“now don’t be shy tonight y/n!” your best friend called from down the hall just as you were about to go inside your room to join megumi. “if you guys want to get freaky again don’t mind us! especially you megumi!”
you quickly ran inside your room and grabbed a pillow, poking your head out and chucking it at her and laughing when you actually managed to land it on her face, her running down the hall to throw it back but you slamming the door and locking it in her face just in time.
“what is happening.” megumi mumbled, stirring around in the bed to face you, his sleepy eyes drooping.
“nothing baby.” you smiled softly, the wood creaking beneath your feet as you walked over to his outstretched arm and climbed into bed with him, the both of you snuggling up under the covers and sharing sweet sleepy kisses with your body heats combating the cold room— a sliver of moonlight peeking through the wide windows on the other end as you the two of you fell fast asleep with no sign of struggle.
the next morning, you all changed into your hiking attire and packed your bathing suits, gojo bouncing off the walls and excited that he was finally going to revisit the place he’d been wanting to go to since the last time he went— the rest of you eagerly gushing and giddy over the thought of the grand waterfall and lake and big rocks that yuji wanted to cannonball off of.
gojo informed you all that the hike should only take about thirty minutes with no setbacks, and once you were outside and following the set trail along the parameters of the national park, it had only been about fifteen minutes in until someone started complaining (gojo).
the sun was blazing but nothing that wasn’t unmanageable— the cool breeze and shade from the giant sequoia trees making up for the slightly stinging heat as you walked hand in hand with megumi, tight interlaced fingers as you both enjoyed the quiet air and the soft occasional chirping of birds, jumping over various rocks and logs along your journey as you happily spoke to megumi about anything that came to your little mind, him contently listening and nodding and loving everything you had to say to him, always.
“oh! look gumi!” you whispered, pointing to a tiny deer from across the pond to your left. “it’s a baby!”
“where?” he crouched down to your level to try and match his line of sight with yours, the corners of his lips softly turning upwards once he spotted the deer sniffing a pile of grass and taking little nibbles out of it.
“s’cute.” he murmured. “where’s the mom though? baby deers usually aren’t seperated from their—”
“heeeelppp! heeelppp meeeee!”
you all jumped and spun around to be met with a hunched over gojo in a fit of tears, his body trembling as you saw what you now realized to be the mother of the baby deer, chewing mindlessly on the hem of gojo’s shirt.
“i’m dying! i’m dying! this is it!—”
“calm down.” megumi muttered, walking over to him and pulling you along halfway before separating his hand from yours and stepping closer.
“stop screaming and don’t move. it’ll probably move on if you stop freaking out.”
“megumi do you study deers for a living?” yuji spoke up.
megumi gave him a deadpanned look. 
“we are in the mlb.”
“no i know!” he shrugged. “but maybe on your downtime?”
“he’s freaky with y/n on his downtime—”
“shuuushh!” you gasped and slapped a hand over your best friends mouth, your wide frantic eyes snapping to see if gojo heard but relief washing over you when you noticed he was still screaming and crying, oblivious.
“i’m sorry i’m sorry!” she muffled under your hand, laughing once you pulled away. “i’ll stop i’m sorry babe. i love you.”
you playfully rolled your eyes and pulled her in for a hug, kissing her cheek with an exaggerated ‘mwah’ like you’ve done ever since you both were in middle school, her reciprocating before you turned your attention back to a flailing gojo.
“gojo stop moving—”
“i can’t megumi i can’t! it’s gonna eat me up whole and alive and without mercy—”
“how long ago was it that you came here?” you asked sweetly, walking up to stand next to megumi.
“uh— i think i was maybe twenty… or twenty seven!.. or twenty three…”
“is it just like you remember?” you smiled. “i mean— so far? the hike?”
“oh yeah even better!” he beamed. “there’s actually a clear trail now for hikers.”
“yeah?”
“yeah! back then it was barely marked and rough everyone had to raw dog it—”
without him noticing, the deer slowly released his now soggy chewed up shirt and pranced away, no longer threatened by his jagged movements as gojo stopped them the minute you spoke to him.
“—but i had a map and snacks and the park rangers on speed dial so i didn’t really care—”
“gojo.”
megumi pointed and he stopped, his dad turning around to see the deer somewhere far off across the pond with its baby.
“y/n you saved me!” gojo jumped up and wrapped his arms around you, you giggling as he swung you around roughly before setting you back down with a grin on his face. 
“thanks sweetheart.”
you gave him a cheeky thumbs up, and as the group continued along the trail, megumi reached over and gently ruffled your hair with a little smile of gratitude on his face, pressing a kiss to your forehead after.
“satoru what were you even doing to the deer for it to do that?“
“i wanted to pet it—”
the rest of the trail was relatively easy, no more setbacks as you all basically kept gojo on a leash deeming his ‘wandering off’ rights revoked, the only annoying thing being the occasional bites from mosquitos and random bugs with you and your best friend running for your lives when the bigger ones buzzed past you, the end of your hike drawing near as the soft crashing waves of the waterfall were now in earshot.
“you okay gumi?” you asked sweetly, pushing some of his spiky hair back from his forehead and wiping the sides of his slightly red face down a little with your hand towel, throwing it over your shoulder after and passing him your water flask. “drink drink, you look a little red.”
“i’m fine.” he took the flask and kissed your head, chugging back some ice cold water as you walked. “just hot.”
“fuck i know.” you huffed, taking the flask back once he was done and drinking a bit yourself before shoving it back into your backpack. “we’re almost there though! and the minute we get there we should jump off that big rock your dad mentioned! like— like you and me i’m not doing it by myself but if you do it with me then i’ll be okay maybe—”
you paused and looked at him sheepishly. “can you do it with me?”
he smiled softly and nodded, swinging an arm over your shoulder and caressing the skin of your upper arm. “i can baby.”
you cheered and skipped on excitedly, pulling megumi forward by the hand until you were caught up with the rest of the group.
as you talked on with yuji ahead about the next coming baseball events for their team, your best friend leaned closer to megumi with a hushed tone.
“have you seen the bikini y/n brought?” she smirked. “ehh?”
he looked at her blankly. “not clearly.”
“i have.” she wiggled her eyebrows. “it’s a skimpy little number… i forced her to bring it. and it’s black your faveee.”
he huffed out a breath, appearing unbothered but his mind… curious.
…very.
“the bottoms are tied by the sides— easy access…” she wiggled her eyebrows. “and the top squishes her boobs up all nice and snug they look like pillows—”
megumi stared straight down with burning pink cheeks and a tight jaw, shoving her away by the shoulder as she cackled.
“try to keep your boner down once you see it megumi! i could barely even keep mine down sheesh—”
“i liked you better when you weren’t talking.”
“and you should thank me by buying me a hot dog at your next game they’re fucking expensive-”
“guys it’s here!”
gojo bounced up and down with his arms out, his back to you all as the four of you gasped at the size of the waterfall, incredibly fucking massive and beautiful as the crashing sounds of it meeting the lake below overpowered anything else, the water literally shimmering and gleaming and crystal clear blue against the summery sun as you all walked down, quickly claiming a spot and setting down your bags.
it was genuinely perfect, and you were so amazed that something like this existed without you even knowing about it until two days ago— your eyes excitedly scanning your surroundings as you watched the people further up ahead splash and swim around and jump from the rocks.
as everybody else peeled off their hiking attire with their bathing suits underneath, megumi quietly eyed you from the side in his swim trunks as he folded up his clothes, shamefully waiting for you to reveal the skimpy bikini your best friend was blabbering on about.
“y/n hurryyyy!” your girl friend whined. “i wanna run in with you!”
“coming coming!” 
you quickly grabbed the hem of your top and pulled it over your head, megumi sucking in a sharp breath and coughing at the way your tits jiggled out and the way your hips looked with the little tied bows on the side and the way your stunning hair fell over your shoulders and the way your thighs—
“oh! what’s wrong megumi?” your best friend gasped dramatically. “do you need some water? here, y/n your flask is over there—”
you bent down to grab it, your ass completely in his view as he roughly covered his mouth with strained eyebrows, pinky cheeks, and a pathetically solid dick under his swim shorts as you walked over and sweetly handed him the flask.
“here gumi!” you chirped, faltering over his stiff body and covered mouth, tilting your head. “what’s wrong? are you okay?”
your best friend snickered and pointed at him from behind you as he glared, his eyes softening once they landed back on yours.
“m’okay baby.” 
he took the the flask from you and sipped a little before screwing the cap back on and setting it down next to his bag, you nodding and turning to walk over to your best friend, but stopping when megumi’s hand caught yours.
“wait.” he tugged your hand a little, his voice gentle. “come here.”
you listened and walked closer to him, your pretty doe eyes looking up at him curiously as he softly cupped your cheeks and leaned down, pressing his lips delicately to yours for a moment before pulling away.
“you look cute.” he mumbled, cheeks pink. “i like your bathing suit.”
you gave him a huge smile, your face gleaming as you leaned up on your tippy toes and pecked his nose. “thank you gumi! i was nervous about it but i got your favorite color!”
you stepped back and rotated side to side as your tied bows shifted, wanting to innocently show him the bikini but only accidentally riling him up even further— the thought of submerging his entire body in the lake now to hide his boner an appetizing thought to him.
“y/n! you coming?” your best friend called, and you quickly nodded and ran over to her, taking her extended hand in yours and interlocking your fingers tightly.
“okay ready?!” she gushed.
“ready!”
“one…” the two of you counted.
“two…”
“threeee!”
you both squealed and sprinted down, the wind whipping through your hair as you jumped in the cool lake together and laughed at the way droplets of water splashed across your faces, the surface reaching up just past your knees once you were a good distance from your resting spot.
“guys come in!” you yelled. “it feels really nice!”
you looked at megumi and waved him over, him walking down before making his way through the lake as yuji and gojo raced in.
“onward my second son!” gojo called, yuji giving him a piggy back ride as they splashed through the water but comically tripping and dunking themselves in once they reached you.
“aw man! my foot slipped on a rock…” yuji mumbled as he shook water from his hair, your best friend laughing and kissing his cheek.
“it’s okay bud, at least you carried satoru all the way here with no issue!”
gojo gasped. “what are you trying to say?”
she laughed and shook her head. “i’m joking! i’m joking— maybe—”
you skipped over through the water to catch up with an arriving megumi then, his arm coming to rest around your waist as you walked back up to the group together.
soon you all made it down to the deeper end by the waterfall and hung out, you jumping on megumi’s back at one point for a photo your best friend offered to take— your arms wrapped around his neck with your cheek mushed up against his as a small smile played at his lips, gojo grinning softly to himself at the sight knowing megumi never really smiled for pictures with anyone but you… something that wasn’t very hard to tell as he stared.
megumi loved you. genuinely. 
and he lived life so much differently now that he was with you.
yuji later dragged your best friend and megumi to the other side where he heard other people say fish were swimming in, eagerly wanting to catch one and take it home for himself as a souvenir and begging the other two for help, you and gojo laughing from a distance whenever they were close to grabbing one but screaming when they accidentally would let it go.
“you having fun?” gojo asked you after a minute, and your nervous eyes snapped up to his striking blue ones.
“oh yes! so much!” you smiled kindly. “thank you for this satoru… seriously. you didn’t have to do all of this but you did, and i can’t thank you enough.”
he shook his head, a content expression on his face as he continued to look at the three ahead.
“no need! you’re all my kids. it’s what a dad does, isn’t it? take you guys out?”
you giggled softly and nodded, but after a bit, gojo spoke up again.
“sometimes…” he began. “i feel like i may lack what megumi needs.”
your eyebrows furrowed. “what do you mean?”
he looked on ahead.
“ever since megumi was young, i always worried that he would be alone for the rest of his life and not learn to appreciate the things he already had.”
gojo pursed his lips. “he’s always been a quiet kid… didn’t like to talk to anyone or listen to anyone and was just— living. emptily living.”
emptily?
“he didn’t go out. he didn’t do what a regular teen does at his age. he didn’t believe anything had value to it and just lived. he never had anyone either until yuji… but even then the look on his face never changed, and i fear baseball only scraped the surface.”
“for how long?” you murmured.
“for as long as i’ve known him.” he answered.
“i think—” he shook his head. “i know megumi thinks that he isn’t worth anything. he thinks he deserves nothing and just blocks everybody and everything out… and i… i worry.”
you stayed quiet and listened.
“he’s different. he’s reserved and refuses to accept any forms of love because he thinks it’s wasteful when he’s the one that’s receiving it… and i just want you to know that even though he’s— he’s mean sometimes and says grumpy things he doesn’t mean it. he really loves you and i don’t want you to be scared off—”
“but he isn’t any of those things to me.” you spoke softly. “at all. i’ve never once thought megumi to be any of those things.”
gojo’s gaze flickered to yours.
“i’ve never met anyone as genuinely kind and selfless and loving as he is. i feel like people always get the wrong impression of him and it just— pisses me off because he doesn’t even do anything and yet they’re quick to judge just because he’s different… and i hate that.”
you played a little with your fingers. “megumi always silently does things for people when they don’t deserve it, and they never notice it either so he doesn’t even get something as simple as a thank you because they’re too focused on how different he is.”
gojo’s eyes softened as he placed a friendly arm over your shoulder, shaking you a little. 
“you see what i see, then.” he spoke.
you smiled sadly, your eyes trained to megumi as you watched him sharply cup his hands underwater and catch a fish, throwing it inside yuji’s makeshift cup tank silently as yuji and your best friend proceeded to jump and cheer and peer inside to look at it.
“but i love him because he’s different.” you express. “and i worry one day he’ll get tired of me and tired of the things that i say and leave… but i would never blame him for that. i would never regret getting to love someone like him.”
gojo smiled down at you, and he felt relief again. relief in knowing that megumi was in good hands, in your good hands, and that he didn’t need to worry so much about him anymore, that his years of begging and wishing on his knees for anyone and anything that would listen to him and help save his son, help him learn to love and cherish, to save him from a life of nothing— 
all of those years and he was finally heard.
“oh he would never.” he spoke softly. “because ever since he met you he’s been different. he smiles more. he’s calmer… more lenient. he’s awake.”
and he’s learned to love, most of all.
“he’s never told me this…” you trailed off sadly.
“i wouldn’t either.” he responded. “maybe it’s something he wants to forget.”
he huffed after a minute. “and also megumi never smiles when i take pictures with him but he smiles with youuu!” he whined. “no fair.”
you giggled then, grinning at him apologetically as you did.
and gojo felt so lucky that his son managed to land a soul as genuine and pure and sweet as yours was… that he managed to land someone who loved him for the same reason many others didn’t.
“you don’t lack what he needs satoru...” you murmured. “you’ve always had it exactly. without you, he wouldn’t be living the life he has now surrounded by the people that love him… he wouldn’t have his career either— and he knows that.” you nudged his shoulder gently with yours. “he loves you… and i hope you know that too.”
gojo stared at you blankly for a minute before his eyes gradually filled with fat tears, his lips wobbling.
“y/nnnnn!” he wailed, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and rubbing his cheek side to side on top of your head. “you sweet little angel! you always know just what to say! oh i’ve never felt so moved! i’m paying for your college tuition okay?!”
“huh?! no! you can’t pay it please no!—”
“i have to! i have to! you’re my future daughter in law—”
“you’re gonna make me cryyyy!—”
megumi turned around curiously at the familiar sound of his dad’s crying, his shoulders relaxing once he saw it was just you and him jumping around and wailing and hugging over god knows what, him smiling softly to himself.
“told you dummy.” he muttered under his breath. “he loves you.”
“who loves who?!” your best friend shot up. “yuji loves me? yeah no shit—”
“heyyy!” yuji whined. “are you saying you’re used to my love? that it’s boring?”
“no! i never said that! you’re just as dramatic as satoru—”
megumi ignored them and started making his way back over to you, and upon you and gojo realizing, he put you down with a smile and you proceeded to walk across the water— your heart secretly heavy over everything gojo had told you.
if you had known, you would’ve worked ten times harder for megumi to know how much he was loved and appreciated by everything in his life— the thought of him thinking such cruel things of himself making it hard for you to keep your crybaby tears down as he got closer. 
megumi didn’t deserve the life he grew up with— the one that was outside of satoru’s control.
the one filled with loneliness and judgement and just— nothing. he didn’t deserve to be looked upon as indifferent and actually label himself as so without mercy and without any means of saving himself.
“i caught a fish—”
you flung your arms around his neck and pulled him down tight as he let out a huff of surprise, your eyes screwed shut as you tried your absolute best to keep the tears at bay as you hugged him with everything that you had.
“i love you gumi…”
he slowly snaked his arms around your waist and hugged you back.
“i love you t—”
“no but i love you.” you pulled back to look at him, his eyebrows furrowing at your sad expression. “a lot. more than anything. please tell me you know that.”
his concerned eyes darted around your face momentarily before slowly nodding.
“i— i do. i feel the same way—” he shook his head. “are you okay?”
you nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck and nodded, the ebb and flow of the water swaying the both of you gently as you embraced each other.
megumi didn’t push further after that, opting to asking you about it after as you pulled him to the big giant rock off to the side of the waterfall where many others had jumped off of previously throughout the day, you excitedly bouncing on your toes once you both reached the top— no sign of prior sadness from you that only confused him.
“oooo i’m scared— fuck i’m scared!” you shivered in place and megumi squeezed your hand.
“you’ve been talking about this all day.” he murmured, gently nudging your shoulder with his. “you can’t back out now.”
“i’m not!” you shook your head frantically. “i’m not… right? or am i… oh god i think i am—”
“we’re jumping.”
“no!” you cried. “i can’t do it i can’t do it—”
“yes you can.”
“no i can’t! i’m a big fat puss it took me a year to talk to you do you think i can do something like this?!” you threw your unoccupied hand out in emphasis. “fuck i didn’t even talk to you, you talked to me!—”
he leaned down to look at you at eye level. 
“baby, if you don’t do this now you’re gonna be crying the entire way home in regret. do you wanna do that?”
“no…” you mumbled.
“do you wanna regret this?”
“no…”
“then jump with me.”
“give me a kiss and then i’ll do it.”
megumi laughed cutely and pecked your lips.
“you ready now?”
“apparently.”
without warning, megumi booked it across the rock as you ran with him, his baseball legs nearly sending you fucking flying as you both jumped over the cliff and down below, a huge splash coming up as your submerged bodies naturally rose up to the surface, you cheering happily and peppering your boyfriend with kisses once it was over.
and when the sun eventually began to set, you all reluctantly left the lake with whines and borderline sobs as you dried up and shimmied on clean clothes before packing your bags up, beginning the walk back down the trail to the cabin shortly after.
it was a lot easier on the way down now that the sun wasn’t scorching and burning over you all— each of you refreshed and content from a days worth of swimming and fish catching as the cool night air softly brushed against your skin, the cabin soon coming into view a lot faster than you all anticipated.
and after arriving and showering and everyone getting comfy in their pajamas, you all ate dinner together in the grand living room where you finally watched human earthworm four under yuji’s begging request, your best friend succumbing up to it since he had been rejected so many times before already, but regretting it almost the second the movie started playing.
“i think i’m gonna be sick.” your best friend mumbled, a hand over her mouth.
“why? what’s happening?” you whispered to megumi as you covered your eyes in pure fucking fear, him softly chuckling to himself.
“i’ll spare you.”
“okay great thank you baby—”
“it’s not even that gory!” yuji exclaimed. “cmon babeee now i feel bad.”
“no don’t.” she muttered beneath her hand. “it’s fine. i’m trying.”
“aw when your girlfriend loves youu.” yuji smiled cheekily, kissing her cheek as she laughed and pushed him away.
“i think i remember you showing me this movie a couple of years ago yuji…” gojo pondered, scarfing down a bag of potato chips. “it was good but i prefer something more like pride and prejudice—”
BANG!
you all froze.
silence.
“what the fuck was that?” you sat up, the rest of you stiff in alarm.
“i don’t know…” yuji trailed off. “maybe the wind? outside?”
“maybe..” gojo mumbled with his mouthful. “i think it’s fine!”
you all eventually shrugged and continued watching the movie.
“oh no this is the part—” your girl friend quickly slapped a hand over her eyes. “i can’t watch i can’t watch i can’t watch!—”
“well then i can’t either!” you anxiously covered your eyes again as megumi lazily pulled you closer to his chest, him sleepily laying his cheek on top of your head.
“you guys can’t hang!—”
BAANGGG!!
“oh fuck no!—” your best friend screamed and reached for the remote, shutting off the tv. “something’s outside.”
“nuh uh.” gojo frantically shook his head with wide blue eyes. “some-one is outside… that bang was way too loud for it to be an animal.”
you shot up in fear, megumi slowly following suit and sitting up with pinched eyebrows— now wide awake from all of the noise.
“someone has to go check!” your best friend harshly whispered. “satoru go check!”
“no way!” he cried. “please! no! i can’t go out there!—”
“i thought you said you were our ‘parental supervision?’” she spat. “go do parental supervision activities and go outside!—”
“but i’m too handsome to go outside!—”
“well someone needs to!—”
another crashing bang came from outside, way louder than the previous times as you all screamed in terror and ran to each other, huddling close together on the floor as you silently anticipated for the next sound.
“oh my god someone’s actually outside.” you whispered. “what if they’re trying to break in?”
“oh don’t say that sweetheart i brought my rose crystals with me!” gojo whined, megumi shooting him an annoyed look.
“i could— i could go check?” yuji offered, his voice slightly shaking as he propped himself up to stand.
“no!” your best friend grabbed him. “no yuji if you go outside you’ll never come back you can’t!”
“never come back?” he gulped, immediately plopping himself back down. “i wanna come back...”
“then stay inside—”
BAAANG!!
the power went out as you all erupted in a fit of horrified screams in the pitch black living room, megumi instantly clasping a hand over your wrist to feel you there and tugging you gently.
“don’t separate from me.” you heard him mumble.
“what the fuck do we do?!”
“someone is trying to rob us someone is trying to rob—”
“quick! the four of you! stand in front of me!” gojo gasped. “this is our last night on earth and i’ll be damned if i don’t live to see you all be wed!”
he stood and ran. “quick quick! we don’t have time! i’ll be the officiant hurry and line up—”
your girl friend shook her head incredulously. “satoru you cannot be serious right now—”
“oh i’m dead serious.” he nodded frantically. “we are gathered here today—”
BAANNGG!!
“we’re done! we’re done! we’re done!—”
“fuck this.” megumi mumbled, standing and pulling you up with him before wrapping his arms around your legs and throwing you over his shoulder, readjusting his grip before quickly walking out of the living room and down the hall to the bathroom, using the faint glow of the moonlight to help light his way.
and once he found it, he carefully set you down on the cold tile floor by the tub and stepped back.
“i’m gonna go check outside.” he reached for the door knob. “stay here okay.”
“no!” you gasped, crawling over and grabbing his wrist. “no gumi please don’t go outside i’ll go you stay here—”
“no way.” he pushed. “just stay here i’ll be right back—”
“if you go outside you’ll die!” you cried dramatically. “and then your ghost has to watch me move on by the pressures of society even though i don’t want to move on but i apparently have to—” you tugged him closer, eyes wide. “do you want to see me with another man?!”
“baby—”
“do you?!”
“no the fuck i don’t—”
“then stay here and—”
“AAAAHHHHHH!”
you both looked at each other blankly for a couple of seconds before megumi quickly shut the door and locked it, crawling his way over to you through the dark bathroom then and reaching out to feel where you were at— sitting next to you once he found you.
your hands found each others and you interlaced your fingers, you scared for your fucking life and worried over what was going on out there with the rest of them, your head coming down to rest on his shoulder as his came to rest on your head.
after a few silent moments, you spoke up.
“wanna know something?”
he lifted his head to look down at you.
“what baby.”
“when you drew my initials in the dirt at the world series… i saw my life flash before my eyes.”
megumi chuckled as he reached up to gently brush some of your hair away from your eyes. 
“saw your life flash before your eyes?” he murmured. “in a good way or a bad way.”
“in a good way.” you smiled. 
he hummed. 
“and what did you see?”
“can’t tell you or it won’t come true.” you giggled. “i wished for it on 11:11 it’s legally binding.”
he chuckled and squeezed your hand.
“…was i in it?”
you nodded. “through the entire thing.”
his eyes softened.
your mind was suddenly drawn to the conversation you had with gojo at the lake, and you frowned.
“gumi…” 
“hm?”
you lifted your head and shifted your body slightly to try and look at him, the darkness of the bathroom not really helping but you satisfied with the slight outlines you could see of his face.
“are you happy?”
his brows furrowed, slightly taken aback. 
“yes… why?”
“have you always been happy?” you pushed further. “like— your whole life. the happy you are now, have you always been?”
he stopped.
megumi’s never lied to you, and he never intended to do so, but he juggled the possibility of maybe this being one of those times where a little white lie was deemed kind of necessary.
“uh— yeah.” he nodded.
you pursed your lips. 
after a period of silence and you playing with his long fingers, you spoke up again.
“gumi i want you to know that you deserve everything you’ve ever gotten in your life.”
his head snapped up.
“and i don’t ever want you to feel like you don’t. you’ve worked hard and had to deal with too much to think that you don’t deserve any of what you get in return.”
why were you telling him this?
“so when you tell me that you’ve always been happy, i hope that’s the truth.”
he bit the inside of his cheek in regret, hating that he lied already, and fearful of your reaction to the factuality of his life.
“i uh—” he struggled. “sometimes i think i don’t deserve it.”
all of the time, actually.
“why gumi?” you asked sadly.
he shook his head. “i don’t really ever do anything. and i’m… difficult.”
“but you do everything. that’s all you’ve ever done.”
megumi frowned.
“i just piss people off baby.” he murmured. “i’m lucky you’re not one of them.”
“no gumi—” your grip tightened around his hand. “it’s not you though, it’s them. it’s their problem if they want to get pissed off and think of you a certain way, not yours. and that definitely doesn’t link to other situations in your life.”
you leaned your head down to try and catch his attention, his eyes drifting to yours once you did. “i want you to know that there is so much more that life wants to give you. so much. even more than what you have now… and you need to give yourself the chance to let it.”
megumi could only nod, and you sighed softly.
“you need to go easy on yourself gumi… please stop thinking that everything is your fault because it never has been. you’ve never done anything wrong.”
you tenderly ran the pads of your fingers over the back of his hand.
“life isn’t all that bad… it brought you to me, didn’t it?”
it did.
but when was it that megumi earned the rare privilege to be with you in the first place? what did he do so right that made you look at him the way that you did, when everything he did was always so fucking wrong?
and— and why did he receive the fortunes of time that night? the fortune that put you right in front of him at that party three years ago? the one he almost didn’t even go to?
because living a life that’s empty and dormant is all megumi knew how to do— blurring through all aspects of it without any means of pulling himself out from the waves of fucking nothing, thinking— believing that he made no significance to anything as the faces of everyone around him were hazy and confusing with a big fat ‘x’ plastered across every single one.
he never allowed himself to see. to feel. he never thought it was worth it. he never thought he was worth it.
so why did it feel like the universe made you just for him, when all he did in return was loathe it? why was it so forgiving?
“you know… i wasn’t a virgin when we met.” he mumbled.
“i know.” you responded softly. “there’s no way you fuck me this good without prior knowledge—”
he snorted, but eventually shook his head. 
“it was only one time. years ago. and i didn’t do it again until you.”
you only nodded understandingly, but the way your lips pursed in distaste was a dead giveaway to megumi that you weren’t particularly keen about it, and neither would he if it was the other way around, the both of you equally and funnily territorial.
“it was when yuji and i first got signed to the team.” he began. “we went to a season kick off party and a bunch of other players were there from other different sports. even international.”
you listened.
“i think that day was probably the worst i’ve ever felt in my life.” he opened up to you. “i didn’t really care about anything or feel anything… and i got really drunk when i don’t even drink like that. i was lost and trying to find a way to help it, and i was so fucking exhausted and— and angry at life for doing this to me... for leaving me alone.”
you swallowed the thick lump in your throat.
“so i got wasted to forget about it, and then i just went up to a random girl from i don’t know what team and i don’t even remember her name—” he ran an exasperated hand through his hair. “it didn’t help at all though. at all. i was still useless.”
megumi peered up at you then, a tiny sad smile on his face. 
“and if i knew you were coming i would’ve never done it.” he murmured. “i would’ve wanted you to have it.”
“useless?” you breathed out in disbelief. “how could you ever think you’re useless gumi?”
“i don’t do anything pretty baby.” he shook his head. “i don’t deserve the career i have, i don’t deserve the father i have, and i sure as fuck don’t deserve you—”
“but why?” you raised your voice a bit. “why can’t you just let yourself have those things? they’re yours they’re all yours everything that you’ve ever done in your life has led up to this point with you and i together. with your dad. with yuji and my best friend. you’re so fucking selfless and kind  and forgiving to the point where it’s dangerous because now you just don’t believe anything is rightfully yours.”
“i—”
“you’re everything to me. the greatest privilege i’ve ever gotten in my life is to literally just know you gumi. to know who you are and to know what you’ve done and what you represent… how significant you are.”
he stared.
“you didn’t get lucky with anything because you’ve earned it all. you’ve done everything right so please let yourself be happy baby… be selfish for once in your life and just take whatever it is that life is pushing to you without looking back because you deserve to do something like that after giving for so fucking long.”
you leaned in then and delicately planted your soft lips to his forehead, letting them linger there for a moment before pulling back and pressing your little cheek beside his lovingly.
“you deserve to be known, megumi.”
what specifically was it that he did that brought you to him? 
what the fuck was it that earned him the right to listen and receive your captivating loving words that soothed his pain like nothing else could? like nothing else ever could?
because whatever it was that he did, he wanted to keep doing over and over again for the rest of his life until the stars fell from the sky.
it was because of you that megumi already thought life wasn’t so bad after all.
the way you’d get excited over little things like magnets from greece and cake batter ice cream and baby deer and coffee cake and lady and the tramp gummy worm kisses, the way you’d laugh about almost anything even if it wasn’t that funny, the way you’d greet him every time you saw him with a skip to your step and a sweet little kiss to his face, the way you simply enjoyed the light soaked joys of life without any ounce of hatred in your heart like he had up until the moment he met you— all made him believe that life maybe is precious in the end. 
and your face never had an ‘x’ plastered over it when he first saw you.
your face was beautiful and radiant and clear— not a single haze or blur over it as he felt his body miraculously float to the top from his makeshift sea of nothing, your soul pulling on his hand so he could finally breathe for once when he hadn’t even said a word to you at the party yet— you standing there under the neon lights in a pretty little pink dress and an angelic fucking smile.
you were like being bathed in the rays of the sun— blissfully happy and free… and you loved him. something megumi to this day still couldn’t understand but never once questioned it, terrified of jinxing it away and you leaving him when dying sounded a lot more appealing to him than that.
and megumi couldn’t remember the last time he properly cried— tears rolling down his cheeks and all.
but he was doing it now, in the pitch black bathroom with the same person that taught him how to feel as his shoulders trembled, him straining and alarmed and completely lost as to what someone is supposed to do when they cry.
so megumi listened when his body pulled him forward and when his head gently tucked itself into your neck— your eyes widening and teary as you felt wet droplets fall and roll down your skin, him swallowing back hiccups.
“gumi?” you whispered worriedly, going to pull back but stopping once you felt him snake his arms around you and drag you slowly to sit on his lap.
“please stay.”
it was quick when you realized his words had double meaning as you immediately wrapped your arms around his neck, hugging him so so close and snug that you hoped and prayed megumi would comprehend the unconditional love you had for him through your embrace as he silently weeped— him clutching at your clothes as if he was trying to make sure you were actually real and not just some fucked up dream where he finally learned to be happy.
“i’m never leaving megumi.” you said seriously. “ever. even when you ask me to or yell at me to… i won’t.”
you felt him solemnly nod, a comforting wave consuming the both of you as you sat and held him while he sniffled.
“…gumi.” he corrected after a moment, pinching your side.
“sorry!” you sputtered and quickly pecked his cheek. “sorry… i was having a serious moment and i needed to use your full government name.”
he huffed out a laugh through his tears.
“s’okay.”
you ran a soothing comforting hand along his back, megumi slumping into you at the feeling as you peppered gentle kisses along his forehead and wet face, wiping his cheeks continuously again and again patiently until he eventually settled and his breathing evened out.
he silently leaned forward and captured your lips in a kiss then, his hands coming up to cup your face as you cupped his, your mouth’s moving so slowly and softly as his thumbs caressed your pretty cheeks— you smiling through the kiss before gently pulling back.
“i love you pretty baby.” he grinned.
“i love you gumi…” you smiled kindly. “and if you ever leave me i’m strapping a bomb to my chest and laying on your bean bag until you change your mind.”
megumi burst out laughing, his little squeaks making you giggle as he shook his head and nudged your forehead playfully with his index finger.
“you’ll never have to worry about something like that.” he spoke lowly.
“and neither will you.”
he smiled.
“i—”
“megumi and y/n where the fuck are you?!”
you both froze, eyes wide.
“i completely forgot why we were in here in the first place.” you frantically whispered, him nodding along with you in agreement.
“oh my god they’re dead they’re dead—”
“satoru be quiet!—”
you heard multiple soft padded footsteps near the door of the bathroom, megumi wiping his eyes with his sleeves a little to get rid of the evidence before you reached up and helped him wipe his left over tears.
“don’t worry gumi.” you spoke sweetly. “the power’s still out so they won’t be able to see if that’s what you’re thinking about...”
he sent you a little smile and gave you a fat kiss on the cheek.
once your boyfriend gave you the all clear, the both of you slowly stood and unlocked the door— it creaking as you timidly opened it.
there on the other side, the rest of the group stood a couple of feet away, them jumping at the noise but relaxing once they saw it was just the two of you.
“what the hell were you guys doing in there?!” your best friend harshly whispered, rushing over and pulling you into a tight hug. “we couldn’t find you for like thirty minutes!”
“hiding.” megumi answered flatly, and she shot him a glare.
“so you just pick her up and take her away?! leaving the rest of us over there to die?!”
he nodded.
“you sadistic freak—”
“okay! okay—” yuji tugged your girl friend back from her mid attempt lunge and into his arms, squeezing in hopes of it calming her down with megumi smirking from behind. “—we found them it’s all over…”
“megumi why couldn’t you pick me up too on the way?” gojo whined. “i’m your dad!”
“you’re too heavy.”
he gasped. “so you’re saying you would’ve?”
“no—”
“you’ve changed him y/n you’ve changed him!” gojo jumped on you and spun you around. “he’s a new man! a loving man! i’m paying for your textbooks too!—”
“no!—”
you all decided to reconvene in the living room at some point after that, huddling together on the same couch and staring silently at the wall ahead of you in the dark— soaking in your pathetic fear and refusal to go out and check outside as you all froze and trembled with chattering teeth at how cold it was.
finally, you had had enough.
“i’m going outside.” you muttered, standing from the couch.
megumi’s hand shot out and grabbed your wrist.
“no.” he spoke firmly. “no you’re not.”
“yes i am gumi, i have to try and see what happened to the breaker box outside or we’re all gonna freeze—”
“no.”
“yes.”
“no.”
“gumi!”
“i’m coming with you.”
“absolutely n— eeekkk!”
megumi had you thrown over his shoulder before you knew it as you squealed, trudging over to the front door as the rest of them watched with wide eyes.
“brave brave souls…” yuji whispered dreamily. “i’ll miss them…”
“sacrifice is the purest form of love…” gojo sniffed. “they love us—”
their voices trailed off as megumi carried you outside and to the side of the cabin where he assumed the breaker box might be, you yelping when he roughly bit your ass just before setting you back down on your feet.
you both treaded along carefully, the wooden floorboards creaking beneath each step as the chilly air whipped through your bodies and produced goosebumps as a result, megumi’s hand clasped around yours as he led the way.
“do you think it’s a person or an animal that did it?” you spoke, tone hushed.
“if it was a person i think they would’ve broken in by now.” he mumbled. “but then i don’t know why the power went out.”
“me neither…” you gnawed at the inside of your cheek in worry, squinting your eyes to try and see better through the darkness as the only sign of life apart from you two were the ringing crickets in the trees.
you clasped your other hand around your already intertwined ones anxiously, him squeezing your hand reassuringly in exchange.
“maybe we should’ve brought a bat.” you suggested. “you know… because you swing it and stuff.”
he chuckled. “swing it and stuff?”
“uh huh.” you nodded. “for protection. i realize now that if it is a person we’re kind of dead because we brought nothing—”
just as you were approaching the corner to the balcony, a sudden rustling scratchy noise made you both freeze in place immediately. 
“we’re done for—” you whispered frantically. “—we’re dead okay dying so now i have to tell you before we go that you’re the hottest man i’ve ever met in my damn life and i hope you know that—”
his cheeks grew hot. “baby we’re not dying—”
“do you see it? where is it? what is it? what’s making that noise—”
megumi peeked his head around the balcony, his eyes scanning the view in front of him before his shoulders slumped and his face went dead.
“it’s a fucking raccoon.”
“huh?”
you walked forward, peering around yourself only to find a chunky fluffy raccoon by the breaker box chewing on one of the disconnected cables, the lounge chairs and decorative plant vases on the balcony all knocked over in disarray that could only explain the constant loud banging you all heard earlier.
“we were losing our minds for this.” he mumbled.
you laughed and pulled him along, the raccoon perking up and freezing once it sensed your presence before it dropped the chewed up cable, its heavy little paws scurrying off into the trees ahead and disappearing into the night.
“aw maaann!” you whined. “i wanted to pet it…”
“don’t think that would’ve been smart baby.” he chuckled, walking over to the breaker box and crouching down.
“why not?” you pouted. “it was cute. and chubby.”
“because it’s a wild animal.” he blindly tugged and fiddled with a few cables in hopes that something would magically happen. “it could’ve bit you if you did.”
“so? you bite me all the time what’s the difference.”
he laughed. “i’ll stop then.”
“no!” you cried, throwing your arms around his neck and leaning your weight on his back as he let out a surprised huff, him still crouching as his hands instantly came under your thighs to keep you from slipping.
“no gumi i’m sorry! please! i like it when you do it!”
“you complained.”
“i didn’t! i was just trying to justify petting the raccoon i swear!”
a sly smile played across his lips.
“say you’re sorry.”
“i’m sorry!”
“and that you love me.”
“i love you i love you!”
“and that you’re never leaving me.”
“i’m never leaving you ever ever ever—”
megumi plugged in the chewed up cable in a random lucky slot and the cabin sprung to life, the warm lights instantly blinding both your visions from being in the dark for so long— you hearing the group inside scream and cheer as his strong legs stood up, hoisting you further up his back and properly hooking his arms underneath your thighs.
“nice job gumi!” you gushed. “cool baseball man and electrician.”
he let out an amused breath as he turned his head to the side and pecked your cheek, his heart fuzzy as you readjusted your arms and wrung yourself closer to him, the side of your cheek pressed up against his.
“i plugged it into a random spot.”
“and what.” you quipped. “i would’ve plugged it into the wrong spot and blown up the cabin.”
megumi smiled to himself as he continued to walk along the side of the air bnb and back over to the front, his legs carrying you up the steps of the porch and inside the house where you found yuji and your best friend bickering over human earthworm four again, and gojo nearly passed out on the couch with his hand inside a bag of chips and crumbs over his mouth.
“you guys!” your girl friend sat up. “who was outside?! did you see?!”
“it was a raccoon!” you exclaimed as megumi carefully bent his knees a bit so you could slide off his back. “and a chubby one! it knocked over everything and chewed up the breaker box.”
“a fucking raccoon?” she groaned, slumping off the couch and trudging over to the stairs. “i’m going to bed all that freaking mess and stupidity for a damn animal—”
“ooo! wait for me babe!” yuji quickly turned off the tv and zoomed over to her, picking her up bridal style like nothing as she squealed and laughed.
you watched them with a warm smile go up the stairs before walking over to a snoozed out gojo.
“just let him be baby.” megumi murmured and you stopped, him carefully prying his greasy hand away from the chip bag and tossing it before grabbing a throw blanket and settling it gently over his dad, you smiling and giving your man a kissy on the lips before retreating up to your room yourselves to sleep, wanting to rest up for the big drive back home tomorrow.
but definitely not before megumi pinned you down and gave you the best eat out of your fucking life.
“i can’t! i can’t i can’t gumi please i can’t cum again—”
“i’m eating.” he grumbled against your wet abused pussy, pulling you roughly back down after you tried to run away from his mouth— his hips subconsciously thrusting against the mattress to ease his aching dick.
“you’ve made—” pant! “you’ve made me cum three times already ple— eeekk!”
megumi slobbered over your slick folds, completely not giving a single shit about what you had to say as his tongue plunged into your hole repeatedly with his arms locked around your waist, keeping you meanly cemented to the bed with no inch for escape.
and he was eating so loudly too— slurping and gulping as he ran his mouth over your pussy side to side as you squealed, your fingers gripping the sheets and trembling when he pulled back to spit on your puffy overstimulated clit.
“gumi plleeaassee!—” you hiccuped, his dick spasming at the way you gasped and choked and clenched your thighs around his head, watching the way his drool oozed down your clit and pooled on the bed over the already wet patch on the sheets.
“nuh uh.” he spoke with his mouth full, tongue licking a fat stripe up your slit. “not ‘till you squirt on my face.”
“but i— i caaann’t!—”
“i’ll make you then.”
megumi let your clit go with a pop and hovered up over you, him sucking messily over his ring and middle finger before trailing them back down to your pussy and prodding your hole open, your breath hitching as you felt them sink inside of you— megumi nudging your head to the side with his cheek before diving and biting over your exposed neck.
you shrieked breathlessly when he wasted absolutely no time at all and started skillfully jerking his fingers inside and out of your hole rapidly, his mouth licking and sucking over your neck as your pussy practically screamed and gushed over the speed, your hand shooting down to grab his wrist.
“fuckkk— m’gonna cum again gumi please let me please—”
“you’re so polite pretty baby...” he hummed against your neck, his breath shuddering as he fucked you fast with his fingers. “only if you squirt. if not m’taking my hand away.”
“no!” you shook your head frantically as he licked over a new hickey amongst the other five he already gave you. “don’t take it away i’ll do it i’ll do it!—”
you didn’t even know if you could since squirting isn’t something you can just do on command, but you were so pathetically desperate for him and his mean fucking mouth and fingers that you didn’t give a single fuck and just wanted to cream all over his big hand.
megumi groaned into your neck and rammed his digits over and over and over, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as the sounds coming out of your hole were wet and sticky and gross and it only further got megumi off as he forced your legs to stay open, you running off a high pitched moan as huge fat drops of your squirt trickled out, him shooting down and hovering his mouth over your pussy so you could finish all over his face just like he wanted.
“fuuuucckk just like that baby yeah—” he panted, slowly slobbering up your remaining release as your body twitched with ecstasy and severe overstimulation, you literally limp on the bed as he soon peeled back and licked his tongue over his lips like he just ate the most delicious meal of his entire existence (he did), wiping his wet face down with his sleeve after.
megumi pulled your panties back up and your shirt down with a kiss to your wrist, settling into bed next to you and chuckling when you whined dazedly and weakly pushed against his chest as he tried to pull you in.
“what baby?”
“you’re mean.” you mumbled, eyes fluttering closed as you shoved your nose into his neck.
“m’sorry.” he spoke softly, a little smirk on his lips. “what did i do?”
“you know what.” you grumbled, feigning annoyance. “and how am i supposed to hide the ten hickeys you just gave me you vacuum.”
he laughed into your hair as he ran a soothing hand over your bare thigh. “i’ll give you one of my hoodies baby it’ll be fine.”
“mhm.”
and he did— the following morning when you all packed up and loaded your belongings and suitcases back into the van for the long drive home, megumi gave you one of his big baseball merch hoodies with his last name embroidered on the back to wear and hide your hickeys with the hood up.
but you should’ve known you were never safe around your best friend… because on the ride back home she pounced on you from above your seat without mercy and snatched the hood off.
“oh my god!” she gasped, cackling as she peered and pointed at your love bites. “megumi you little leech! what are you doing to her every night give her a damn break let her breathe—”
megumi pushed her off and she fell back in her seat behind them, her uncontrollable laughter making you whine and pull the hood back over your head in embarrassment.
“what? what’s so funny?” yuji asked, unplugging one of his earbuds.
“y/n—”
“nothing!��� you jumped up and glared at her. “nothing! nothing’s funny at all i don’t know why she’s laughing.”
your best friend snickered and blew you a kissy face, shrugging. “yeah i forgot what it was—”
“my kids!” gojo called from the front, pushing his round black sunglasses up the bridge of his nose before beaming. “now how would we feel if i was finally invited back to one of your games ehh? megumi? am i allowed back in—”
“no.” he deadpanned.
your eyebrows furrowed. “allowed?”
“satoru’s banned from the stadium.” yuji laughed. “our management won’t allow him on property and if they see him they freak and call the police.”
“huh?!” you sat up. “why!”
“he brought fireworks to our first world series and set them off in the middle of the fucking game.” megumi grumbled.
you slapped a hand over your mouth and laughed loudly, gojo shooting you a cheeky smile from the rear view mirror.
“that was you?!” you shook your head incredulously. “i remember that! it woke me up i was sleeping during the game—”
“—like she always was until the day she saw her little leech.” your girl friend cut in, and you couldn’t really counter that as you giggled and nodded in agreement.
“can you blame me?!” gojo exclaimed. “my son’s first world series and you expect me not to do something extravagant to showcase my fatherly love?”
“you could’ve just sat there and watched.” megumi pushed, readjusting his arms and pulling you closer as your head fell on his shoulder. 
“but that’s borinngg! did you like the fireworks y/n?”
“i did!” you perked up. “they were really pretty! and it kept me awake for the rest of the game so i didn’t miss them winning.”
“see?! the only one who appreciates me in this van is your wife megumi. that’s why she’s my favorite.”
you giggled as megumi rolled his eyes, and he turned his attention to you once he felt you tug a little at his jacket, the rest of the group going back to their own worlds.
“whenever your dad calls me your wife… it reminds me of when you drew my initials in the dirt.”
his brows pinched. “how come?”
“because that’s what i saw when my life flashed before my eyes.” you spoke softly. “and what i wished for on 11:11.”
megumi’s heart incandescently melted at your little words as he linked them to what you had mentioned earlier in the bathroom, his mind playing wonderful images of a married life with you— something he had already pictured many many times before in the late hours of the night when he was up lovesick over you. 
“i wish for it too. everyday.” he murmured, and you beamed, your cute face coming up to give him a sugary kiss before your head settled back over his shoulder.
“good.” you replied. “because if not i was gonna strap two bombs to my chest and superglue myself down to your bean bag.”
he snorted and fixed over the throw blanket that was draped over the two of you, pinching your little cheek before getting comfy with you again on the coushy black leather seat, both of your eyes watching the passings of trees and cabins and rivers from the window for a while as the slight rock of the van and megumi’s arms eventually lulled you to sleep, his scent filling your body with warmth and familiarity that soothed your mind over with little to no effort at all.
megumi looked down at you then and stared before he trailed a delicate thumb over your bottom lip, his eyes greedily drinking in the sight of just you as you slept peacefully— the details of your face something he wanted to commit to unforgettable memory and recall across every single life time in hopes that it would bring him to you in each one.
and he wondered why the universe was so forgiving again as he watched you sleep.
but instead of spending time desperately trying to come up with a useless answer, it still wouldn’t change the fact that he was given the chance to properly live again with an angel like you… and he found himself thankful for the universe in exchange actually.
thankful for it listening to him. thankful for it watching him. thankful for it granting him the life that he lived now, the same one he dreamed about and yearned over since he was a teen, and the same one that wouldn’t have been possible in the first place if it wasn’t for you bouncing into his life— silly and talkative as you settled into the crevices of his existence and got comfortable with no means of ever leaving, him never wanting you to as he shut the doors of his soul and bolted it tight with thirty different locks.
you made him happy, as simple as that may sound, for it was something that he never was.
you showed him how to love. you showed him how to laugh. you showed him how to cry as the concept itself and feeling was extremely foreign to him— almost taboo even. 
you saw him cry before he even saw himself. and though he half expected to be embarrassed and relieved that it was pitch black in the bathroom so you wouldn’t have properly seen— he didn’t really fucking care because it was you. 
and how was crying supposed to feel? that much he couldn’t tell.
but if crying felt like that every time— afloat, alive, good— with the same woman who teetered over the edge and pulled him from his empty sea, with the same one who noticed him when nobody else did, and the same one who made him feel like he was blessed by the eternal warmth of the sun with just her gaze alone—
then maybe crying was something megumi wanted to do all of the time.
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taglist!! <33 (THANK YOU THANK YOU!):
@cupcaketeddybehr @soobiary @roachfun @waterfal-ling @saebaey @reneinii @luvvmae @cake-with-the-cream @pixie-dix @2ukika @cramelmacchiao @hy3phiren @fushigurioo @wil10wthetree @jameinfrau @pancakeszs @drftnzume @k0z3me @k4zivy @dindjarins1ut @starrnai @stilettoheelz @tinyray-lovesfood @mirophobic @aylinnhealsformeow @zeesturniolo @asparkofapricity @arionater @lolololololhanma @dancer545 @dongh9e @bluberrymochi17 @princesstiti14 @heeseung-lover686 @livmarauder @kikiiguess @dee-writes-anime @iloveoldermenn @starrysho @nanabeesblog @simplyraeblue
tumblr won’t let me tag some of you i don’t know why ugh!!! :((
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chastiefoul · 4 months ago
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he finds you crying ft. love and deepspace men
ft. zayne, xavier, rafayel, and sylus a/n: I always feel like mc wasn’t given enough time to grief when chapter 4 happened (or maybe they just didn’t show it or i remember it wrong) but to lose the people you’ve considered family like that in front of your eyes would severely mess on anyone’s mental well-being. mc stronger than me fr i would've had a breakdown every night. so i tried to write the comfort that was long overdue. <3
Zayne
He found you hunched over at the couch, knees tucked to your chest. your shoulder shook as he heard the sniffles and although he’s physically perfectly fine, he swore it felt like his heart was breaking in two.
He would gently put his key on the table, making his presence known in the subtlest way possible so you didn’t get startled.
You quickly tried to wipe your eyes and sat normally but suddenly in no time you were carried as he made you sit on his lap, bringing your head close to his neck as he held you tight.
Zayne wasn’t one who’s great at offering consoling words, as he also a firm believer of actions speak louder than words. As he rubbed your back gently he only said, “Let it all out, I’m here.”
So you did just that. You’ve said this once to him as a joke, but truly, anywhere by his side was the time you felt the most safe.
The doctor continued to comfort you in silence, hoping with every beat of his heart that his arms and hands that’s so used in saving people’s lives, could offer at least some kind of solace for your heart that was in disarray.
Xavier
He’d never hated the sight of a bed so much, until he found you crying atop of it.
Xavier would rushes over to you (arguably faster when he encountered strayed wanderers), determined to do anything he could to help you feel better.
As he put a hand over your cheek, wiping the tears that just kept on coming he whispered, “I’m here, what do you need?”
When you couldn’t even manage a reply Xavier would just stay by your side, his and was diligent in rubbing the side of your face; he never felt so useless, knowing the little gesture gave almost to none help.
For someone who finds sleep easy inbetween every hours, that was the most restless he’s ever been. He stayed with you until you calmed down, offering gentle whispers as you felt your awake state slipping away.
The moment you’re asleep Xavier was keen on wiping your face softly off of the remaining tears, and he tucked you in properly. He brought you to his embrace.
Yet unlike any other nights, he couldn’t find any part of him that was able to join you into the dream state.
Rafayel
Rafayel knew he came at a bad time. Seeing the way you spoke so stiffly and the way you zoned out of the conversation every few minutes.
However, he also knew he couldn’t leave you alone right then.
The silence once again was loud, but he didn’t think you realize that, as he followed your stare to the table, to what’s on the top of the table to be exact. A necklace with an apple charm on it.
He approached your side, cupping your face with both of his hands. “Miss bodyguard, you don’t have to be strong all the time, you know? Especially now, since you’re off duty.”
You chuckled quietly, but what followed after was not your usual easy smile but instead it was tears streaming down your face. And it felt like Rafayel could offer anything he had just to make them stop. And if that’s not enough, he swore to give you twice or thrice of what he had, it didn’t matter if he was to be in debt.
He held you tight, the sight of you crying was enough to make tears made their way to his eyes as well. And it pained him, knowing the best he could do in that moment was only to hold you tighter, as he wished that he could mend whatever broken part you had with one of his.
Sylus
He didn’t even flinch when you climbed on his lap, your usual talkativeness was nowhere to be found.
You rested your head on his shoulder and within seconds he knew that your emotions were in chaos, and if you thought you could find comfort in him, then he was more than happy to be there for you.
“Let me stay like here for a while,” you said weakly, voice all tense and anxious.
He brought a palm to your back, “By all means, darling. You didn’t think I was going to turn you away, did you?”
You stayed quiet, trying your best to get your emotions in order but it just seemed impossible. Sylus then sigh at your another attempt to pretend once again that you’re okay. “Cry if you need. Tears were never a sign of weakness, it just proves that you’re human.”
His rigid sentence somehow brought a strange sense of comfort for you, making your tears escape freely.
Sylus’ fingers felt fleeting on your back, like a touch that could slip away anytime. But he made sure none of that will happen as he stroke your hair gently over and over.
Was he worried of you? Absolutely. Yet he believed with all of his entire being that you that has fallen apart that day, would have no time standing back up again on the next day.
If there’s anything he learnt about you during your time with him, is that you’re a stranger to giving up.
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kateschi · 19 days ago
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beneath the night's weight
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synopsis: katsuki comes home bruised and exhausted. in your arms, he finds peace and comfort, letting go as you care for him.
pairing: timeskip!bakugou katsuki x f!reader
⊹ ࣪ ˖ notes: i wanna pamper him everyday and every night
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katsuki trudges through the door at 3 a.m., fatigue hanging heavily on his shoulders.
the night’s patrol clings to him like a thick fog—his body is battered, aches radiating from bruises mottled across his skin.
yet, as he steps into the quiet warmth of home, a sense of relief washes over him.
the familiar surroundings feel like a balm to his weary soul, and for a moment, the chaos of the night fades away, leaving only the soft glow of the lamp in the living room.
you sit there, wrapped in a cozy blanket. your eyes light up at the sight of him, and without a word, you silently open your arms, an invitation he can’t refuse.
he hesitates for just a moment, the weariness tugging at him, but instinct takes over, and he moves toward you, surrendering to the comfort you offer.
as he sinks into your embrace, the world outside fades away.
he rests his forehead against your shoulder, letting the tension of the night seep out of him. the warmth you provide feels like a refuge from the chaos he faces daily.
you hold him tightly, and he breathes in the comforting scent of home and you—familiar and safe.
it's a stark contrast to the adrenaline-fueled encounters he faces on patrol, and he finds solace in the stillness of this moment.
when he finally pulls away, you regard him with gentle concern, your fingers reaching out to trace the bruises lining his jaw. he winces slightly at your touch but doesn’t pull away.
instead, he watches as you guide him to the couch, where he sinks into the cushions with a heavy sigh, the weight of exhaustion pressing down on him.
katsuki observes as you retrieve a damp cloth. the sight of you in action—a mixture of grace and determination—makes his heart swell.
he remains still as you begin to clean away the grime from his skin, flinching only slightly at the sting of antiseptic. each swipe of the cloth is soft and deliberate, and with every touch, he feels the tension start to dissipate.
he lets you work, eyes slipping closed as he leans into your hands, surrendering to the care you so effortlessly offer.
the silence in the room is comforting, broken only by the soft sound of fabric rustling and the occasional sigh escaping his lips.
your hands are steady and sure, moving with a rhythm that soothes his restless mind.
he feels the weight of the night’s battles lift, replaced by the tender way you attend to him. wherever your touch is, he leans towards it. it’s a sight that melts your heart.
when you lean in to press a soft kiss against his forehead, he’s reminded just how much he needs this. it’s as if the kiss contains all the unspoken words he struggles to express—the gratitude, the love, the understanding.
he doesn’t need to say anything; your actions speak volumes, filling the spaces between them with warmth and tenderness.
in that moment, he realizes how deeply he treasures this connection, this ability to be vulnerable with you without fear of judgment or misunderstanding.
after a while, you help him out of his costume, your fingers deftly working to remove each piece. he watches you intently.
the way your brows furrow in concentration and the gentle curve of your lips as you focus on him—it’s all enchanting.
when you dress him in a soft shirt, it’s almost like being wrapped in a hug, the fabric a comforting barrier against the chill of the night.
as you lead him to the bedroom, he follows you willingly, moving with a newfound lightness, the burdens of the day falling away and replaced by pure drowsiness and the need to be beside you.
each step feels like shedding the weight of the world, and the prospect of rest fills him with a contentment he rarely allows himself to feel. you tuck him under the covers with care, ensuring he’s warm and snug.
the sheets envelop him like a protective cocoon, and for a moment, he wants to grunt in protest at the burrito wrap you’ve made him become.
however, he simply basks in the softness.
but as you attempt to pull away, he instinctively reaches out, fingers curling around your wrist. he looks at you, gaze boring into your eyes and his resting face replaced by a scowl.
you snort at the sharp change which makes him tug you towards him a bit.
giving in, you settle back against him, fitting perfectly into his side. he sighs softly, allowing himself to relax fully. the two of you remain enveloped in a comfortable silence, the only sound being the gentle rise and fall of your breaths.
he tucks his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling the scent of you—warm, calming, and utterly grounding.
time seems to stand still as he loses himself in the moment.
the world outside becomes irrelevant; all that matters is the warmth radiating between you, the soft rise and fall of your chests in harmony.
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kofi — navigation — masterlist
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do not copy, translate, or plagarize
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skyrigel · 4 months ago
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“Sweet nothing”
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Pairing: Benjicot “davos” blackwood x fem!reader
Benji masterlist
Between war, blood and chaos, your husband founds himself running home to your sweet nothing.
Nsfw, Benji being a tease but absolutely feral for you, bath chamber hinted sex, kissing and biting, nudtidy, groping, consent is sexy, domesticated!ben, fancast! Benji.
“ Darling, did you miss me ? ” You opened your eyes to find your lord husband strolling in your bath chambers.
All the servants were walking out with their head bowed down and knowing closed smiles, Benji grinned when he caught your eye, before he trailed his gaze down at your naked body, drinking you in with a smug tug of his lips, rubbing his jaw.
“ I missed you.” you breathed, feeling your heart ache to touch him, to hold him, to breathe him in.
You were beginning to get out of water when Ben shaked his head, mouthing a 'love' before stripping off his clothes, one by one.
He was being torturous with the pace, he knew well how driven you were, your mouth agape as you saw him, so so long. He tossed his tunic, because teasing you was one of his greatest amusement, but then again, he was dying to be in your embrace and let everything mute in the background, and regardless to say how pretty you looked, like those sirens they talked about, luring him and he would, he would crawl and beg and plead and surrender, for you he was insane.
“ My lord.” you whispered, giving him that, ‘I'll never sleep with you again’ look and it only took a moment before he was stepping down in the bath, beaming.
His naked body disappearing in the mist of water, you followed his movements, his smile climbing to a grin as he reached you, taking your hand and pressing it to his chest. Beneath your palm his heart was beating for you, loud and rhythmic.
“ You have no idea how much I missed you.” you pressed a soft kiss on his chest, just near a bluish bruised wound. You hoped they were all dead, all of them who hurt him.
“ you can always give me a idea, don't you think my lady.” He pouted, sensing your worry as he lifted you chin with his finger tip, eyes sparkling with mischief, you pushed forward your hands to cup his face, needless to say about him. He was everywhere, cupping your ass cheeks to kneading your breast, pulling your waist as he placed sweet kisses all over, like a starved man and he was, a very starved man for your love, your affection, your body and all of your sweet nothings.
“ I missed this.” he bited at the crook your neck, you arched back, allowing more access.
“ And ? ” you asked because Benji liked that, liked knowing everything that swirled in your mind, to know what you thought about everything and nothing.
You couldn't see him as he was sliding down your body, open mouthed kisses all over your skin while you tugged at his soft hair, but you knew how stupidly he would have smiled.
“ And this.” he bumped his nose to your navel, looking up to meet your gaze.
“ Tell me more.” you whined, dropping your head back, Benji wrapped your legs around his waist, taking you out of the water as he laid you on the floor, climbing over you.
“ More ? ” He smiled, leaning to kiss your nose tip, then claiming your in hard embrace and clatter of souls, his lips soft and warm and sweet.
You were flushed under him, you didn't dare look between him and you because the hard length that pressed against your thigh was enough proof of how madly you drived him crazy.
Benji watched as your breath hiccuped in your throat, watching your heart swell and eyes dazed with lust, like blown back.
“say it my sweet love.” He was propped on his elbows on either side of your head, his own voice shaky, he wanted nothing less to dive inside you, take you all and leave nothing, to devour and to worship you. But he needed you to say it first. “c'mon sweetheart” He nuzzled his nose at the side of your neck, breathing in your scent, humming along.
“ yes...Ben.” you bited your lower lip as his shaft was leaking with pre cum, weakening your legs and the pressure in your pit grew, dazing your senses.
“ huh.” Ben perked up, relaxing in a smirk, pecking down your jaw as he raised one eyebrow, like he didn't listen. Bastard.
“ T-take me.” you demanded and pleaded and that was all he needed to hear, before his lips parted in a gasp, He's bloody going to moan every sweet nothing out of you. Oh, how sweet.
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pucksandpower · 2 months ago
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Find Me Again
Lando Norris x Reader
Summary: in which two soulmates are destined to always find each other only to be torn apart lifetime after lifetime after lifetime … until finally, they’re not (aka the reincarnation AU)
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Alexandria, 30 BC
The scorching Egyptian sun beats down on Alexandria as you hurry through the bustling streets, your sandals slapping against the warm stone. The air is thick with tension — whispers of Octavian’s approaching army have the city on edge. But your mind is elsewhere, focused on the stolen moments you’ll soon share with Lando.
You slip into a secluded alleyway, heart racing as you spot his familiar silhouette. Lando’s face lights up when he sees you, though worry creases his brow.
“There you are,” he murmurs, pulling you close. “I was beginning to think you wouldn’t come.”
You melt into his embrace, savoring his warmth. “I’m sorry I’m late. The palace has been in chaos with all the rumors flying about.”
Lando’s arms tighten around you. “It’s true then? Octavian draws near?”
You nod against his chest. “I fear so. Cleopatra grows more desperate by the day.”
He pulls back, cupping your face in his calloused hands. His dark eyes search yours intently. “Come away with me,” he pleads. “We can leave the city tonight, find passage on a ship bound for Greece or Cyprus.”
Your heart aches at the longing in his voice. “Lando, you know I can’t abandon my duty to the queen. She needs me now more than ever.”
“And what of my need for you?” Lando’s voice cracks with emotion. “Each day I’m torn between my loyalty to Rome and my love for you. I cannot bear the thought of you in danger when Octavian’s forces arrive.”
You reach up to caress his cheek, feeling the stubble beneath your fingers. “My brave soldier,” you murmur. “Always trying to protect me. But I’ve survived far worse than regime changes. We’ll find a way through this, as we always do.”
Lando leans into your touch, his eyes fluttering closed. “I wish I had your optimism. Every time I close my eyes, I see visions of you lying lifeless amidst the chaos of battle.”
A chill runs down your spine despite the oppressive heat. “Don’t speak of such things,” you chide gently. “We make our own fate, remember?”
He sighs, pressing his forehead to yours. “I know. I just ... I can’t shake this feeling of impending doom. Promise me you’ll be careful, my love. Promise you’ll do whatever it takes to stay safe.”
“I promise,” you whisper, sealing the vow with a tender kiss.
Lando responds eagerly, drawing you closer as the kiss deepens. For a blissful moment, the world fades away and there is only the two of you, lost in each other’s embrace.
A distant shout breaks the spell. You reluctantly pull away, both breathing heavily.
“I should go,” you murmur regretfully. “Cleopatra will be wondering where I’ve disappeared to.”
Lando nods, though he doesn’t release you from his arms. “When can I see you again?”
You bite your lip, considering. “Three days from now, at sunset. Meet me by the lighthouse?”
“I’ll be there,” he vows solemnly. “Be safe, my love.”
With a final lingering kiss, you slip from his embrace and hurry back towards the palace. Your heart feels lighter despite the looming threats, buoyed by Lando’s love and the promise of your next rendezvous.
But fate, it seems, has other plans.
The next few days pass in a blur of mounting tension. Cleopatra grows increasingly erratic, oscillating between grandiose plans to seduce Octavian and talks of ending her own life. You do your best to comfort and counsel her, all while stealing moments to daydream about your upcoming meeting with Lando.
On the fated evening, you’re helping Cleopatra prepare for bed when she suddenly fixates on a basket of figs brought by a servant.
“Ah, how fitting,” she muses, a strange glint in her eye. “Did you know, my dear, that the Egyptians that came before us believed figs to be the fruit of the afterlife?”
A chill runs down your spine. “My queen?”
Cleopatra waves a hand dismissively. “Oh, don’t look so worried. I was simply contemplating the cyclical nature of life and death. Come, help me into bed.”
You obey, tucking the sheets around her with practiced ease. As you turn to leave, her hand darts out to grasp your wrist.
“Stay with me a while longer,” she implores. “I find I cannot bear to be alone with my thoughts tonight.”
Your heart sinks, knowing you’ll miss your rendezvous with Lando. But duty wins out over desire. “Of course, my queen. I’ll stay as long as you need me.”
Hours pass as you sit by Cleopatra’s bedside, listening to her reminisce about better days. Just as your eyelids begin to grow heavy, a commotion in the hall startles you both fully awake.
“What’s happening?” Cleopatra demands, sitting up.
Before you can answer, the doors burst open and a breathless messenger stumbles in. “My queen,” he pants, “Octavian’s army has breached the city walls!”
Cleopatra’s face hardens. “So, the end has come at last.” She turns to you, her gaze intense. “Fetch me the asp.”
Your blood runs cold. “My queen, surely there must be another way-”
“Do not argue with me!” She snaps. “I will not be paraded through Rome as Octavian’s prize. Now go, quickly!”
With a heavy heart, you hurry to retrieve the venomous snake from its hidden chamber. Your hands shake as you return, presenting the basket to Cleopatra.
She reaches for it eagerly, but pauses. Her eyes meet yours, softening slightly. “My faithful friend,” she murmurs. “You have served me well. I release you from your duties. Go, find that Roman boy of yours and flee while you still can.”
Your eyes widen in shock. “You knew?”
Cleopatra’s lips quirk in a sad smile. “I’ve always known. Now go, before it’s too late.”
Torn between duty and desire, you hesitate. In that moment of indecision, everything changes.
Cleopatra reaches for the asp, but in her haste, she knocks the basket from your hands. The snake falls to the floor, immediately striking at the nearest target … you.
Pain explodes in your ankle as the asp’s fangs sink into your flesh. You cry out, stumbling backwards.
“No!” Cleopatra wails, lunging to catch you as you fall.
The world begins to spin as the venom courses through your veins. Your last coherent thought is of Lando, waiting faithfully by the lighthouse. As darkness closes in, you pray he’ll forgive you for breaking your promise.
Hours later, Lando fights his way through the chaos of the conquered city. He charges into the palace, heedless of the danger, desperate to find you.
When he bursts into Cleopatra’s chambers, his worst fears are realized. Two bodies lie motionless on the floor — the queen and beside her ...
“No,” he chokes out, falling to his knees beside your lifeless form. “No, no, no. This can’t be happening.”
Lando gathers you into his arms, cradling you against his chest as sobs wrack his body. “You promised,” he whispers brokenly. “You promised you’d stay safe.”
But promises, like empires, are so easily broken. As the sun rises on a new era for Egypt, it sets on this chapter of your shared story. Yet even as this life ends, the seeds of the next are already taking root, waiting to bloom in another time, another place.
For true love, like the mighty Nile, cannot be contained. It flows ever onward, carving new paths through the landscape of eternity.
Pompeii, 79 AD
The ground trembles beneath your feet as you race through the chaotic streets of Pompeii. Ash rains from the sky, coating everything in a ghostly gray shroud. All around, people scream and push, desperately seeking escape from the fury of Mount Vesuvius.
“Lando!” You call out, your voice hoarse from the acrid air. “Lando, where are you?”
A hand suddenly grabs your arm, yanking you into a narrow alleyway. You whirl around, ready to fight, only to find yourself face to face with Lando. His usually immaculate toga is torn and stained with soot, his dark curls matted with ash.
“Thank the gods,” he breathes, pulling you into a fierce embrace. “I thought I’d lost you in the crowd.”
You cling to him tightly, savoring his familiar warmth amidst the chaos. “We need to get out of the city,” you say urgently. “The mountain — it’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before.”
Lando nods grimly. “I know. I’ve been trying to make it to the harbor, but the roads are completely blocked. It’s madness out there.”
Another tremor rocks the ground, stronger than before. Pieces of masonry rain down from the surrounding buildings. Lando shields you with his body as you both press against the alley wall.
“We can’t stay here,” you say once the shaking subsides. “It’s not safe.”
“Nowhere is safe,” Lando replies, his eyes haunted. “But you’re right, we need to keep moving. Come on, I know another way to the docks.”
Hand-in-hand, you dash back out into the crowded street. The air grows thicker with each passing moment, making it harder to breathe. You pull the edge of your stola over your mouth and nose, squinting through the haze.
Lando leads you through a maze of side streets and back alleys, avoiding the worst of the panicked crowds. But with each turn, your hope dwindles. The mountain’s fury seems to be growing by the minute, raining down fire and ash with terrifying intensity.
As you round another corner, you come face to face with a wall of rubble blocking the entire street. Lando curses under his breath, pounding his fist against a fallen column.
“It’s no use,” he says, defeat creeping into his voice. “Every path to the harbor is cut off. We’re trapped.”
You squeeze his hand reassuringly. “Then we’ll find somewhere to wait it out. The gods won’t abandon us. We just have to have faith.”
He turns to you, a sad smile playing on his lips. “Always the optimist, aren’t you? Even in the face of certain doom.”
“One of us has to be,” you reply, managing a weak smile of your own.
Another violent tremor shakes the ground, nearly knocking you both off your feet. In the distance, you hear the ominous rumble of collapsing buildings.
“Quick, in here!” Lando shouts, pulling you towards a sturdy-looking stone building. You duck inside just as a fresh barrage of burning rocks pelts the street where you were standing moments ago.
As your eyes adjust to the dimness, you realize you’re in some kind of workshop. Half-finished statues and blocks of marble are scattered about, coated in a fine layer of ash that has sifted through the cracks.
“A sculptor’s studio,” Lando muses, running his hand along a nearby bust. “Rather fitting, don’t you think? To spend our last moments surrounded by art meant to outlast us all.”
You shoot him a reproachful look. “Don’t talk like that. This isn’t the end. We’ll get through this, just like we always do.”
He sighs, pulling you close. “I admire your spirit, my love. But I fear this time, the Fates have other plans for us.”
As if to punctuate his words, the ground gives another violent lurch. The air grows even thicker, filled with choking dust and sulfurous fumes.
“It’s getting harder to breathe,” you gasp, fighting back a coughing fit.
Lando guides you to a relatively clear corner of the room, helping you sit on the floor before settling beside you. He wraps his arm around your shoulders, drawing you against his side.
“Just try to take shallow breaths,” he instructs, his own voice strained. “Like this, see?”
You nod, focusing on matching your breathing to his. For a moment, there’s nothing but the sound of your labored breaths and the distant rumble of the mountain.
“Lando?” You whisper after a while.
“Hmm?”
“I’m scared.”
He tightens his hold on you, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I know, love. I am too.”
“Tell me a story?” You ask, your voice small. “Like you used to, when we first met. Remember?”
Lando chuckles softly. “How could I forget? You were the most stubborn student I’ve ever had the misfortune of tutoring.”
“Hey!” You protest weakly, managing a smile despite everything. “I wasn’t that bad.”
“Oh no?” He teases. “Who was it that insisted the Odyssey would be vastly improved if Odysseus had simply asked for directions?”
You laugh, the sound quickly dissolving into a cough. “Well, it’s true! Twenty years to get home? Penelope should have moved on.”
Lando shakes his head in mock dismay. “Such disrespect for the classics. I clearly failed as your tutor.”
“Never,” you murmur, snuggling closer to him. “You taught me far more important things than dusty old stories.”
“Oh? And what might those be?”
You tilt your head up to meet his gaze. “You taught me what it means to truly love someone. To find a home not in a place, but in a person.”
Lando’s eyes shine with unshed tears as he leans down to kiss you softly. “And you, my darling, taught me that life is meant to be lived, not just studied. You brought color to my world of scrolls and stone.”
Another tremor shakes the building, sending a fresh wave of dust raining down on you both. The air grows thicker, each breath a struggle.
“Lando,” you wheeze, gripping his hand tightly. “I don’t want to die.”
He pulls you onto his lap, cradling you against his chest. “Shh, it’s alright. I’m here. I’ve got you.”
“Promise you won’t leave me?” You plead, your vision starting to blur.
“Never,” he vows fiercely. “Not in this life or any other. Wherever our souls go next, we go together. I promise.”
You manage a weak nod, focusing on the steady beat of his heart against your cheek. As consciousness begins to slip away, you’re struck by a strange sense of déjà vu.
“Lando?” You murmur, your voice barely audible.
“Yes, love?”
“I think ... I think we’ve done this before.”
He lets out a shaky laugh. “What, died in each other’s arms while a volcano erupts? I think I’d remember that.”
You shake your head slightly. “No, not exactly. But this feeling ... like we’ve known each other forever. Like we’ll find each other again, no matter what.”
Lando is quiet for a long moment. When he speaks, his voice is thick with emotion. “Maybe we have. Maybe we will. I’d like to think so.”
“Me too,” you whisper.
As the world crumbles around you, you cling to each other. Your last thoughts are not of fear or regret, but of the love you share. A love so powerful it transcends time itself.
And as this chapter closes, another waits to begin. For some bonds are too strong to be broken, even by death. Your souls are destined to find each other again and again, weaving an eternal tapestry of love across the ages.
Salem, 1692
The air in the Salem courthouse is thick with tension and the bitter scent of fear. You stand before the assembled judges, your wrists bound tightly with rough rope that chafes your skin. The crowd of onlookers murmurs and shifts restlessly, their faces a sea of suspicion and barely concealed hostility.
Lando sits among them, his face a mask of anguish as he watches the proceedings. He wants nothing more than to rush to your side, to shield you from the madness that has gripped the town. But he knows that any show of support would only damn you further in the eyes of the court.
Judge Hathorne’s voice rings out, silencing the whispers. “The accused will step forward.”
You take a shaky step, raising your chin defiantly despite the terror coursing through your veins.
“You stand accused of witchcraft and consorting with the devil,” Hathorne intones gravely. “How do you plead?”
“Not guilty,” you declare, your voice stronger than you feel. “I am no witch, merely a midwife and herbalist. I have done nothing but help this community.”
A snort of derision comes from the crowd. You turn to see Goodwife Putnam, her face twisted with malice. “Lies!” She shrieks. “I saw her dancing naked in the woods, consorting with dark spirits!”
“That’s not true!” You protest. “I was gathering herbs for my remedies, nothing more!”
Judge Hathorne raises an eyebrow. “And can anyone vouch for your whereabouts on the night in question?”
Your heart sinks. You had been alone that night, as you often were when foraging. “I ... I was alone, your honor. But I swear on all that is holy, I am no witch.”
A ripple of whispers sweeps through the crowd. Lando’s fists clench at his sides, his jaw tight with the effort of remaining silent.
“Very convenient,” Hathorne remarks dryly. “Goody Putnam, you may continue with your testimony.”
The woman stands, her eyes gleaming with a fervor that chills you to the bone. “I’ve seen her speaking to animals as if they could understand her. And just last week, my cow’s milk turned sour the very day after she visited our farm!”
“That’s ridiculous!” You exclaim. “Milk spoils, it’s a natural occurrence. And I often speak to animals, as do many others. It does not make me a witch!”
But your protests fall on deaf ears. One by one, your neighbors step forward with increasingly outlandish accusations. Every misfortune, every unexplained event is laid at your feet.
“She cursed my crops!”
“My child fell ill after eating her bread!”
“I saw her flying on a broomstick!”
The claims grow more absurd, but the judges nod solemnly at each one. You feel the noose of suspicion tightening around your neck with each passing moment.
Finally, unable to bear it any longer, Lando leaps to his feet. “This is madness!” He shouts. “You’re condemning an innocent woman based on nothing but gossip and superstition!”
All eyes turn to him. Judge Danforth fixes him with a steely glare. “Master Norris, you will remain silent or be removed from this courtroom.”
“I will not be silent while you murder an innocent woman!” Lando retorts. He turns to the crowd, imploring them. “Can’t you see what’s happening? We’re tearing our community apart with these baseless accusations!”
A murmur of uncertainty ripples through the onlookers. For a moment, you dare to hope that reason might prevail.
But then Abigail Williams, one of the young girls at the center of the witch hunt, lets out a blood-curdling shriek. She points a trembling finger at you. “Her specter! I see her specter tormenting me even now!”
The other girls quickly join in, writhing and screaming as if in the throes of possession. The courtroom erupts into chaos.
“Order!” Judge Hathorne bellows, pounding his gavel. “Order in the court!”
As the commotion dies down, he turns to you, his expression grave. “The evidence against you is overwhelming. Unless you confess and repent, I have no choice but to find you guilty of witchcraft.”
Your heart pounds in your chest. You know that a confession might spare your life, but it would mean living a lie. And worse, it would lend credence to the madness gripping Salem.
“I will not confess to crimes I did not commit,” you say quietly but firmly. “I am innocent before God and man.”
Judge Hathorne’s face hardens. “Then you leave us no choice. You are hereby sentenced to death by hanging. May God have mercy on your soul.”
The crowd erupts into a mix of cheers and shocked gasps. Lando’s anguished cry rises above the din. “No! You can’t do this!”
He rushes towards you, but is quickly restrained by two burly constables. “Let me go!” He shouts, struggling against their grip. “She’s innocent!”
Your eyes meet his across the chaotic courtroom. Despite everything, you manage a small, sad smile. “It’s alright, Lando,” you call out. “Be strong. This isn’t your fault.”
As the guards move to lead you away, Lando breaks free and rushes to your side. He cups your face in his hands, his eyes wild with desperation. “I’ll find a way to stop this,” he vows. “I won’t let them take you.”
You lean into his touch, memorizing the feel of his hands on your skin. “There’s nothing you can do, my love. Promise me you’ll stay safe. Don’t let them take you too.”
“I can’t lose you,” he chokes out, tears streaming down his face.
“You won’t,” you whisper fiercely. “Not really. I don’t know how I know this, but I swear we’ll find each other again. In another life, another time. This isn’t the end for us.”
The guards roughly pull you apart. As they drag you away, you keep your eyes locked on Lando’s, drawing strength from his gaze.
The next few days pass in a blur of fear and desperate prayer. You cling to the strange certainty that had come over you in the courtroom — that somehow, someway, this is not truly the end for you and Lando.
On the day of your execution, you walk to the gallows with your head held high. The crowd that has gathered is subdued, some already beginning to question the justice of what’s happening.
You scan the faces, searching for Lando, but he’s nowhere to be seen. Your heart aches at his absence, but you understand. It would be too painful for him to watch.
As the noose is placed around your neck, you close your eyes and think of Lando. Of his laugh, his gentle touch, the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles. You hold onto these memories as the world falls away beneath your feet.
Your last conscious thought is a promise — to find him again, no matter how long it takes.
Miles away, hidden in the woods, Lando feels the exact moment you leave this world. He collapses to his knees, a wordless cry of anguish tearing from his throat. But even in his grief, he feels the echo of your final promise.
“I’ll find you,” he whispers to the uncaring forest. “In this life or the next. We’ll be together again. I swear it.”
And so another chapter closes, the threads of your shared destiny stretching onward through time. The cycle continues, each life bringing you closer to the moment when you’ll finally break free of this endless dance of death and rebirth.
Yekaterinburg, 1918
The Ipatiev House looms dark and foreboding in the Yekaterinburg night. You pace the confines of your makeshift prison, the once-opulent rooms now a stark reminder of how far the mighty Romanovs have fallen. The sound of raised voices and heavy footsteps from the floor below sends a chill down your spine.
“They’re coming,” your sister Maria whispers, her eyes wide with fear.
Before you can respond, the door bursts open. A group of armed men file in, their faces grim and purposeful. Your heart nearly stops when you spot a familiar face among them.
“Lando?” You gasp, scarcely able to believe your eyes.
He meets your gaze, his expression a turbulent mix of emotions. “Grand Duchess,” he says stiffly, the formal title at odds with the intimate moments you’ve shared in secret.
“What’s happening?” You demand, struggling to keep your voice steady. “Why are you here?”
Yakov Yurovsky, the commandant of the house, steps forward. “The Ural Soviet has decided to execute the Romanov family,” he announces coldly. “You are to be moved to the basement immediately.”
A wave of terror washes over you. “No,” you breathe. “No, this can’t be happening.”
Your eyes lock with Lando’s, silently pleading. For a moment, you see the conflict raging behind his eyes. But then his expression hardens, and he looks away.
As the guards begin herding your family towards the stairs, you manage to maneuver closer to Lando. “How could you be part of this?” You hiss under your breath.
His jaw clenches. “The revolution demands sacrifices,” he mutters. “Even from those we ... care about.”
“Care about?” You repeat incredulously. “Is that all I am to you now? After everything we’ve shared?”
A flicker of pain crosses his face. “You know it’s more complicated than that. Your family’s rule has caused immeasurable suffering. This ... this is justice.”
“Murder is not justice,” you retort, your voice trembling with a mix of fear and anger.
Before he can respond, you’re roughly pushed forward. The journey to the basement is a blur of terror and disbelief. Your mind races, desperately seeking a way out of this nightmare.
In the dank cellar, Yurovsky instructs your family to line up against the wall. You find yourself between your younger siblings, instinctively trying to shield them even as your own knees threaten to give out.
“Wait,” you cry out as Yurovsky raises his hand to signal the firing squad. “Please, spare the children at least. They’re innocent in all this!”
Yurovsky’s face remains impassive. “There can be no Romanov heirs left to rally around. The old regime must end here and now.”
You turn to Lando, making one last desperate appeal. “Lando, please. If what we had meant anything to you, don’t let this happen. Help us!”
For a moment, you see the Lando you knew — the passionate young man who spoke of creating a better world, who held you under the stars and whispered promises of a future together. But then the revolutionary mask slips back into place.
“I’m sorry,” he says, his voice barely audible. “But this is bigger than us.”
As the soldiers raise their weapons, time seems to slow. You think of all the lives you might have lived — the futures now forever lost to you. A strange sense of déjà vu washes over you, as if you’ve faced death with Lando before.
“Ready!” Yurovsky’s voice cuts through your reverie.
You straighten your spine, determined to face your end with dignity. Your eyes find Lando’s one last time.
“Aim!”
“I forgive you,” you mouth silently, even as tears stream down your face.
You see Lando’s composure crack, anguish flooding his features. He takes a half-step forward, as if to intervene, but it’s too late.
“Fire!”
The basement erupts in a deafening cacophony of gunshots and screams. You feel a searing pain in your chest as bullets tear through you. As you crumple to the ground, your fading vision fixates on Lando’s horrified face.
With your last breath, you whisper, “Find me again.”
Then darkness claims you.
Lando stands frozen, unable to tear his eyes away from your lifeless form. The smokey smell of gunpowder mixes with the metallic scent of blood, turning his stomach.
“Finish them off,” Yurovsky orders dispassionately. “No survivors.”
As his comrades move forward with bayonets, Lando stumbles back, retching. He staggers up the stairs and out into the cool night air, gulping it down desperately.
What has he done?
He’d believed so fervently in the revolution, in the need to sweep away the old order to build a better world. But staring at his blood-stained hands, Lando feels nothing but horror and soul-crushing guilt.
Your final words haunt him. “Find me again.” But how can he, when he’s destroyed any chance of a future together?
As dawn breaks over Yekaterinburg, Lando makes a decision. He can’t undo what’s been done, but he can ensure the truth isn’t buried along with your body.
Over the coming weeks, as the Bolsheviks spread lies about your family’s fate, Lando works in secret to document what really happened. He gathers evidence, writes detailed accounts, and arranges for the information to be smuggled out of the country.
It’s a dangerous game. If caught, he’ll be branded a traitor to the revolution. But Lando no longer cares about ideology or politics. His only goal is to honor your memory and ensure that history remembers the truth.
Late one night, as he prepares to flee the country with his damning documents, Lando allows himself a moment of quiet reflection. He thinks of your smile, your compassion, the way you challenged him to see beyond his rigid beliefs.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispers to the empty room. “I failed you in this life. But I swear, somehow, I’ll make it right. If there’s any justice in the universe, we’ll meet again. And next time, I’ll protect you. I’ll choose you over everything else.”
As he slips out into the night, Lando feels a strange sense of certainty. This isn’t the end of your story. Somehow, someway, you’ll find each other again.
The wheel of fate continues to turn, carrying your intertwined souls towards yet another lifetime. But with each cycle, the bond between you grows stronger. Perhaps next time, you’ll finally break free of this tragic pattern and find the happiness that’s eluded you for so long.
Jonestown, 1978
The humid Guyanese air hangs heavy over Jonestown, thick with tension and the cloying scent of tropical flowers. You stand among the gathered crowd, your heart pounding so hard you fear it might burst from your chest. Beside you, Lando’s hand finds yours, squeezing tightly.
“This isn’t right,” he murmurs, his voice barely audible over the droning speech coming from the pavilion. “We need to get out of here.”
You nod imperceptibly, not daring to speak. Jim Jones’ paranoid ravings have reached a fever pitch in recent days, and you both know that even the slightest hint of dissent could be deadly.
“My children,” Jones’ voice booms out over the loudspeakers, “the time has come for us to make our final stand against the oppressors who seek to destroy our paradise.”
A murmur ripples through the crowd. You scan the sea of faces, seeing a mix of blind devotion and barely concealed terror.
“Our Congressional visitors have betrayed us,” Jones continues, his words slurring slightly. “They will bring nothing but destruction. We have no choice but to enact our glorious revolutionary suicide.”
Your blood runs cold. You’d heard whispers of this plan, but had desperately hoped it was just another of Jones’ manipulative tactics.
“Lando,” you whisper urgently, “we have to run. Now.”
He nods, his face pale but determined. “Follow my lead. When I give the signal, we make a break for the jungle.”
But before you can move, you feel a vice-like grip on your arm. You turn to see your mother, her eyes wild with fervor.
“Where do you think you’re going?” She hisses. “This is our moment of triumph. You will not ruin it with your lack of faith.”
On Lando’s other side, his father has a similar hold on him. The older man’s face is a mask of grim resignation. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be, son,” he says quietly.
You watch in horror as Jones’ lieutenants begin distributing paper cups filled with a sinister purple liquid. The bitter almond smell of cyanide fills the air.
“No,” you breathe, struggling against your mother’s grip. “Mom, please. This is insanity. We don’t have to do this!”
But your pleas fall on deaf ears. Your mother’s grip only tightens as she accepts two cups from a passing aide.
“Drink,” she commands, thrusting one towards you.
You shake your head vehemently, clamping your mouth shut. Beside you, Lando is engaged in a similar struggle with his father.
“You can’t force us to do this!” Lando shouts, drawing the attention of nearby cult members. “This is murder!”
Jones’ voice cuts through the growing commotion. “Those who resist are traitors to our cause. They must be made to comply, for the good of all.”
Suddenly, you’re surrounded by a group of Jones’ most fanatical followers. Rough hands grab you, forcing your head back. You struggle wildly, but it’s no use. You feel the cold rim of the cup pressed against your lips.
“No!” Lando cries out, fighting to reach you. “Leave her alone!”
But he too is overwhelmed, multiple hands restraining him as the poisoned drink is forced upon him.
The sickly-sweet liquid burns your throat as it’s poured into your mouth. You choke and splutter, but can’t prevent some of it from going down. Beside you, Lando’s muffled cries tell you he’s suffering the same fate.
As the hands release you, you collapse to your knees, coughing violently. Your vision swims, the world taking on a surreal, nightmarish quality.
“Lando,” you gasp, reaching out blindly.
His hand finds yours, gripping it weakly. “I’m here,” he manages, his voice raw. “I’m so sorry. I couldn’t protect you.”
You crawl closer, fighting against the growing weakness in your limbs. All around, people are collapsing, some screaming in agony while others slip away in eerie silence.
“It’s not your fault,” you whisper, cupping Lando’s face with a trembling hand. “We never stood a chance against this madness.”
Lando’s eyes, clouded with pain, meet yours. “This can’t be how it ends,” he says desperately. “Not again.”
A strange sense of déjà vu washes over you. “Again?” You murmur, confused.
He nods weakly. “I don’t know how, but I feel like we’ve been here before. Facing death together, unable to stop it.”
As the poison works its way through your system, flashes of other lives flicker through your mind. Ancient Egypt, Pompeii, Salem, Russia — each time, finding each other only to be torn apart.
“I remember,” you breathe, wonder mingling with the pain. “We keep finding each other, but we never get our happy ending.”
Lando pulls you closer, both of you shaking with the effort of fighting off the inevitable. “Next time,” he vows, his voice barely above a whisper. “Next time we’ll break this cycle. We’ll find a way to be together.”
You manage a small, sad smile. “Promise?”
“I promise,” he murmurs, pressing a weak kiss to your forehead.
As consciousness begins to slip away, you cling to each other. The sounds of screaming and Jones’ maniacal laughter fade into the background. In these final moments, there is only you and Lando, and the love that has somehow endured across lifetimes.
“Find me again,” you whisper, echoing words spoken in another life.
Lando’s grip on your hand tightens fractionally. “Always,” he breathes.
As darkness closes in, you’re filled with a strange sense of hope. This tragic cycle can’t go on forever. Someday, somehow, you’ll find a way to break free and finally have the life together you’ve been denied so many times.
Your last thought, as you slip away, is a prayer to whatever cosmic force keeps bringing you together.
Next time, let it be different.
Next time, let us live.
And as your souls depart this tragic scene, unseen wheels of fate begin to turn once more. The cycle continues, but perhaps this time, with the weight of so many shared lifetimes behind you, you’ll finally find your way to a happier ending.
In the years that follow, as the horror of Jonestown is revealed to the world, two names are lost among the hundreds of victims. But your story — the story of a love that refuses to be extinguished — lives on, waiting for the next chapter to unfold.
Monaco, 2024
The soft glow of computer screens illuminates Lando’s face as he leans into his microphone, his eyes darting between the chat and his game. “No, chat, I’m not going to sing the Baby Shark song,” he chuckles, shaking his head. “You lot are absolutely mental, you know that?”
The door to his streaming room creaks open, and he glances over, his face softening into a warm smile as you pad in, wrapped in an oversized hoodie you’ve stolen from his wardrobe.
“Speaking of sharks,” Lando grins, addressing his audience, “look who’s decided to join us. It’s my favorite cuddly shark!”
You roll your eyes fondly at the nickname, a reference to your habit of playfully nipping at his shoulder when you’re feeling particularly affectionate. As you approach, Lando pushes his chair back slightly, making room for you to settle onto his lap.
“Come here, you,” he murmurs, wrapping an arm around your waist as you curl into him, burying your face in the crook of his neck. To his stream, he explains, “Sorry chat, the missus is feeling a bit clingy tonight. Not that I’m complaining, mind you.”
You mumble something unintelligible into his skin, making him laugh. “What was that, love? The stream can’t hear you when you’re trying to become one with my neck.”
Lifting your head slightly, you repeat, “I said, don’t let me interrupt your gaming. I just wanted cuddles.”
Lando presses a quick kiss to your forehead. “You’re never an interruption. Besides, I think the chat’s been asking for a cameo from you all night.”
You turn to face the camera, waving sleepily. “Hi, chat. Sorry I’m not more entertaining tonight. Long day at work.”
The chat explodes with greetings and well-wishes, scrolling by almost too fast to read. Lando chuckles, giving you a gentle squeeze. “See? They love you. Probably more than they love me, to be honest.”
“That’s fair,” you murmur, nuzzling back into his neck. “No one loves you more than I do.”
Lando’s breath catches for a moment, and you feel his heart rate pick up. Even after all this time together, simple declarations of love still affect him deeply. It’s one of the many things you adore about him.
“Alright, chat,” Lando says, his voice a touch huskier than before. “You’ve gone and made her all sappy. I hope you’re happy with yourselves.”
You can’t help but giggle at his attempt to deflect. “Oh please, you love it when I’m sappy.”
“Maybe,” he concedes with a grin. “But if I admit that, they’ll never let me hear the end of it. I have a reputation to maintain, you know.”
You snort inelegantly. “What reputation? Everyone knows you’re a big softie.”
“Oi!” Lando protests, poking you in the side and making you squirm. “I’ll have you know I’m very tough and manly. Right, chat?”
The stream erupts with a mix of agreement and playful disagreement, peppered with emotes and inside jokes. You watch the scrolling text with amusement, marveling at the community Lando has built.
“See?” Lando says triumphantly. “They agree with me.”
You raise an eyebrow. “I’m pretty sure at least half of those messages were sarcastic, babe.”
Lando waves a hand dismissively. “Details, details. The point is, I’m incredibly macho and not at all a softie.”
“Mmhmm,” you hum skeptically. “Is that why you cried watching Up last week?”
“Hey!” Lando exclaims, his cheeks flushing slightly. “That’s classified information, that is. You can’t just go revealing my secrets to the entire internet!”
The chat goes wild at this revelation, demanding to know more about Lando’s movie-watching habits. You can’t help but laugh at his mock-outraged expression.
“Sorry, love,” you say, not sounding sorry at all. “But if I have to put up with your sniffling during Disney movies, the least I can do is share the joy with your fans.”
Lando groans dramatically. “That’s it, I’m filing for divorce. Chat, you’re my witnesses. This is grounds for divorce, right? Revealing a man’s most intimate vulnerabilities?”
You roll your eyes fondly. “We’re not even married yet, you goof.”
The words slip out before you can think better of them, and suddenly the atmosphere in the room shifts. Lando’s eyes widen slightly, his gaze locking with yours.
“Yet?” He repeats softly, a note of wonder in his voice.
You feel your cheeks heat up, but you don’t look away. “Well, yeah. I mean, unless you had other plans?”
For a moment, Lando seems to forget entirely about the stream. His hand comes up to cup your cheek, thumb brushing gently across your skin. “No other plans,” he murmurs. “Just you. Always you.”
The intimacy of the moment is broken by the chat exploding once again, this time with a flurry of ring emotes and excited keysmashes. Lando blinks, seeming to remember where he is.
“Right,” he says, clearing his throat. “Well, chat, I think that’s my cue to end the stream for tonight. Got some, uh, important things to discuss with this one.”
You bury your face in his neck again, half embarrassed and half thrilled by the turn of events. As Lando rushes through his usual sign-off, you can feel the barely contained energy thrumming through him.
The moment the stream ends, Lando spins his chair to face you fully, his eyes bright with excitement. “Did you mean that?” He asks eagerly. “About the marriage thing?”
You lift your head, meeting his gaze with a soft smile. “Of course I did. Lando, I’ve loved you for lifetimes. There’s nothing I want more than to marry you.”
Something flashes in his eyes at your words — a fleeting moment of recognition, as if some long-buried memory is struggling to surface. But then it’s gone, replaced by pure joy.
“Lifetimes, huh?” He grins, pulling you closer. “Well, in that case, I suppose we better make this one count.”
As his lips meet yours in a tender kiss, you’re filled with an overwhelming sense of rightness. After so many tragic endings, you’ve finally found your happily ever after. And this time, you’re not letting go.
“I love you,” you murmur against his lips. “In this life and every other.”
Lando’s answering smile is radiant. “And I love you. Always have, always will.”
As you lose yourselves in each other’s embrace, the echoes of past lives fade away. This is your time, your chance at happiness. And you plan to make the most of every single moment.
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xoamiiren · 2 months ago
Text
KISSES AFTER CHAOS, ⋆。°✩ 𓈒𓈒 making up
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
𖥔 PRECIS. they comfort you after a silly disagreement. PAIRING. patient bf!enha x stubborn gf!reader GENRE. fluff WARNINGS. skinship, mild kissing, pet names
authors note ୨୧ I kept these all fairly simple and sweet. I think Jake’s is my favorite only because I can see it so clearly.
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HEESEUNG
Heeseung stood nearby, glancing over at you while pretending to be busy, giving you your space after your argument.
Each time he tried to approach or touch you, you yanked away, so he respected your silent request for distance.
Still, he couldn’t bring himself to leave you alone entirely.
Instead, he watched as you moved around the room, doing small tasks for you even when you’d roll your eyes and mutter “I can do it myself”, feeling the tension between you.
You worked quietly, but you could sense his eyes on you. As you huffed and passed by him one more time, trying to brush by quickly, Heeseung’s hand suddenly caught your wrist.
His soft voice broke the silence.
"C’mere," he murmured, pulling you into his chest.
His arms wrapped around you tightly, his chin resting on your head as he kissed your hair.
"I’m sorry, love... okay? I’m sorry..." he whispered, the warmth of his embrace melting your resistance.
A small, knowing smirk tugged at his lips when you nodded quietly and hugged around his waist. He was fully aware of how dramatic you could be, but he adored it.
JAY
After 20 minutes or so, Jay figured you had calmed down after your blow-up.
So, he made his way to you and found you sitting at your desk in your shared bedroom.
Jay pulled the chair out and knelt down in front of you, bringing himself to your eye level, his gaze softening as he spoke.
“Baby... I’m sorry. This is stupid, and I want us to work through it... is that alright?”
His hand reached up to gently fix a strand of your hair, his touch tender as he rubbed your thighs and knees, waiting for any kind of response.
When you stayed silent, still stubbornly holding your ground, he leaned in, capturing your lips in a soft, sensual kiss.
Pulling back, Jay raised his eyebrows with a playful smirk, imitating your shocked expression.
“We’re done fighting,” he said matter-of-factly.
“Get dressed, we’re going out.”
JAKE
Jake found you on the bed, sitting up against the headboard, staring out the window in silence after snapping over something minor.
He approached cautiously, not wanting to push too soon.
His pinky softly hooked with yours, a gentle, hesitant touch.
When you pulled away and crossed your arms, he played with the hem of your shirt instead, his fingers brushing your skin as he looked at you with those irresistible puppy eyes, waiting for you to break.
When you still didn’t budge, Jake leaned in closer, his voice soft.
“Come closer, (y/n)… please? I’m sorry…”
He carefully slotted himself behind you, wrapping his arms around your hips, swaying the both of you gently.
Even though you were still sulking, Jake couldn’t help but chuckle a little, amusement in his tone.
“Baby~ let’s stop. Hm?” He nuzzled into your neck, waiting for you to finally give in to his warmth.
SUNGHOON
After your argument, Sunghoon gave you space, taking a quiet drive to clear his head.
It had been insignificant, but knowing you were upset, he knew better than to let it fester.
When he came back, you were still in the living room, lost in thought.
Without a word, he walked up behind you, gently grabbing your hips and pulling you back against him with, before pressing a soft kiss to your cheek.
“C’mon... let’s talk,” he murmured.
He took your hand, pulling you toward the bedroom.
You purposely dragged your feet, a little pout on your face, whilst you rolled your eyes.
But inside, you were secretly excited.
Sunghoon glanced over his shoulder with a knowing smirk, shaking his head.
“What am I gonna do with you, (Y/n)…” he sighed, his voice playful as he tugged you in behind him.
“I have a few ideas…” you shrug, walking past him towards the bed.
He raises a brow, but shuts the bedroom door before moving towards you.
He has a special way of apologizing.
SUNOO
Sunoo always preferred giving you both some time to cool off after an argument, but it wasn’t long before he started making his way back into your good graces.
“Babe, I’m gonna do my skincare, maybe have a bath… come with me?” he called out, peeking around the corner at with hopeful eyes, he was even shirtless in hopes you’d cave.
“I’m busy, Sunoo.”, you’d retort, back turned.
When that didn’t work, he tried again later, finding you in the living room, sprawled out on the couch.
With more enthusiasm in his voice, he smiled.
“(Y/n), there’s a new drama we should watch together!”
“Hm…”, you sighed, rolling over onto your belly and closing your eyes.
Seeing you still didn’t budge, he finally sighed, coming over to where you laid, kicking your foot gently.
“Mm, you’re still mad?”, he pouted before kneeling down beside you.
“You aren’t still mad at me, are you?”
When you sat up and glared at him, he grinned.
Without waiting for an answer, he started kissing your cheeks, then your forehead, moving across your face with soft, playful pecks until you couldn’t help but smile and give in.
JUNGWON
After your blow-up, Jungwon quietly stepped out, giving you the space he knew you needed.
He didn’t hover, knowing that pushing to fix things right away would only make things worse.
So, he left for a bit, letting you sit with your thoughts.
When he returned, the soft sound of the door closing made you glance up, and there he was—carrying a small bouquet of flowers and a box of your favorite sweets.
Without a word, he sat on the edge of the bed, careful not to disturb you too much.
You just stared, biting your lip gently.
He placed the flowers next to you, his gaze soft as he waited for you to speak first.
"See the flowers?" he asked gently, his voice warm and patient.
You nodded, reaching out to touch the velvety petals carefully, your eyes growing glossy.
"You like them?", he added, cat-like gaze wide and in search of approval.
You looked between him and the bouquet, the tension between you two starting to ease just a little.
Jungwon shifted closer, his hand reaching out to gently brush a strand of hair behind your ear.
“I know you didn’t mean everything you said,” he whispered, his thumb softly tracing your cheek.
“I didn’t…” you shook your head.
“Can I kiss you?” He asked, his voice quiet, almost tentative, like he was asking for permission to step back into your heart.
“Please…?”
NI-KI
When you and Ni-ki fought, especially over something as petty as this, he never felt the need to avoid you.
Instead, he did what he did best—get on your nerves.
The first time you stormed past him, your hips swaying with frustration, he didn’t hesitate. His hand playfully slapped your butt, a cheeky grin spreading across his face when you whipped around to glare at him, completely unamused.
He just shrugged, his smile only growing wider.
When that didn’t break your mood, he upped his game, messing with your things. While you were in the shower, he snuck in and swiped your towel, leaving you to yell after him.
But the final straw came later, as you sat on the bed, getting ready to turn in for the night.
Just when you thought he’d given up, Ni-ki tackled you.
Full-on WWE-style, his arms wrapped around you in a headlock as you both tumbled across the sheets.
“Ni-ki! Get off of me!” you barked, but the laughter in your voice was clear.
He held on tighter, laughing into your ear.
“But you’re so sexy when you’re mad!” he teased, making it impossible for you to stay annoyed any longer as you dissolved into giggles beneath him.
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babyleostuff · 3 months ago
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𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲
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𝜗𝜚 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌𝐄: fluff 𝜗𝜚 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: dad!mingyu x mom!reader 𝜗𝜚 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 588
⦗💌 ⦘ mingyu loves his two girls to death. even if he gets bullied by them on a daily basis.
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“daddy! daddy look!” a comically small hand grabbed the hem of mingyu’s jumper, and pulled at it. with a small smirk (that obviously went unnoticed by the carbon copy of his wife because according to her he was a giant), mingyu turned his head towards the sky, just to tease the little girl. 
“mommy!” she whined, wrapping both of her arms around mingyu’s legs, “daddy is ignoring me again!” 
you sighed, and shook your head. what was supposed to be a nice post-dinner stroll around the neighbourhood turned into the usual - mingyu teasing your little girl with no end, because a minute of peace was too much for him. at least bopul was behaving himself. 
but then an idea struck you. mingyu could tease you and your daughter as much as he wished, but you both had him wrapped around your little fingers, and there wasn’t much you had to do to leave your husband pouty and sulky. you crouched in front of your little girl, and tucked her hair behind her ear. “tell daddy no kisses for a week. and no pre-bedtime cuddles,” you whispered, and kissed her cheek gently. 
she nodded vigorously, matching your bright smile. a lot of people told you she looked exactly like you (except for mingyu’s eyes, and the little mole on her nose), but her personality had to be even more similar to yours. making mingyu suffer had to be one of her favourite things as well. 
“kim mingyu,” she said, tilting her head towards the sky. “up,” she added and put her hands up, something she did whenever she wanted mingyu to carry her. 
“gosh, when did you become so bossy, hm?” he cooed at her, but the little girl didn’t fall for her dad's sudden change of heart. 
“mommy is bossy, and i want to be like mommy,” she said as a matter of fact, like that didn’t just make your heart burst with love. “besides , that’s not the point,” she took mingyu’s face in her tiny hands, “no kisses, and no pre-bedtime cuddles for you, daddy.” 
you had to stifle a laugh, as the corners of your husband’s mouth momentarily turned down. “w-what do mean no-”
“no, daddy. you were being mean to me,” your daughter smushed his cheeks in between her hands. “and,” she leaned into mingyu’s ear, “you won’t get any kisses from mommy either. she’s angry too.” 
mingyu looked over his daughter's shoulder and sent you a pleading look. "i was just joking," he said, the slight pout evident in his voice. your little girl giggled and snuggled into her daddy's neck, making mingyu tighten his embrace around her. "girls, please."
“not this time, kim mingyu,” you smiled and walked over to your daughter and husband. "us girls have to stick together, right honey?" you rubbed the girl's cheek, making her laugh even more.
"yes, mommy," she said and nodded eagerly.
mingyu sighed and shook his head in resignation. if it was anyone else he’d keep fighting just to strike their nerve even more, but when he looked down at you smiling fondly at your little bundle of love and chaos that he was holding in his arms, mingyu didn’t have it in him to keep teasing his daughter. 
“i love you two so much, you know” he said. “and if you won’t give me kisses, then you can be damn sure i will.” 
“words min-,” 
“oh shut up,” he said, and wrapped his free arm around your waist to pull you to his chest.
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natalia's note: i don't know how children work, so if something is inaccurate - sorry (i have no idea why i wrote this)
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aemondsbabe · 11 months ago
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The Gods and Everyone
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summary: you and aemond sorely overestimate how much time you have before a small council meeting, which leaves the two of you in quite a scandalous predicament
pairing: aemond targaryen x reader
warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, cockwarming, public sex, slight breeding kink, fingering, aemond being an absolute menace, dirty talk, aegon being a little shit but what else is new, let me know if i missed anything!
word count: 5.6k
a/n: based on an anon request for cockwarming! i hope you're still with me and that you enjoy this, friend! sorry it took me so long to get to it!
creds to @bbygirl-aemond for the gif!
likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!
🌟add yourself to my taglist to be notified when i post new fics!
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You watch, concerned, as your husband flits around the Small Council chamber, your eyes following his lithe form as he checks and re-checks the parchment with notes he had written for himself earlier that morning – you’d awoken in the pale hour just before sunrise to see him already hunched over the small desk in your chambers, scribbling away furiously with a quill, his pale hair glowing in the dim light of the candle next to him. All of your attempts to lure him back into bed with you had fallen on deaf ears. 
“You know you needn't do all this,” you point out, perched against the Small Council table, your eyes tracking him as he paces back and forth across the space, going over his notes for the upteenth time, “Your only job is to be on time like everyone else, husband.”
“Things will improve with time,” he rushes out, fixing you with a pointed look, “Hardly two moons have passed since Viserys…” He pauses, pinching the bridge of his nose, “The least I can do is ease this transition for Aegon and mother.”
“My love, it is a transition for us all,” you soothe, striding to him and gently taking his hand. His fingers, rough from all his years of training with swords and spears, instantly wrap around your own as he lets out a tired sigh, “You included. Aegon named you Master of War, not master of everything.” 
“I know,” Aemond murmurs, eye softening as his gaze traces over you, “I find it hard to be still when there is so much chaos – Dorne has yet to be subdued and there are whispers of rebellion from the North. There is so much still to be accounted for.”
“I understand,” you reassure him, your fingers threading through his long, silvery hair, lips quirking into a smile as the gesture makes his eye flutter closed for a second. “But all this stress cannot be good for you, husband,” you sigh, gazing up at him with a mournful smile, “You need rest and calm and…and I need you.” You nearly whisper, blush creeping across your cheeks as Aemond’s eye darkens. 
“Sweetling—“ He starts with a sigh. 
“Aemond, please,” you cut him off, wrapping your arms around his trim waist as you lay your head against his chest, his heart thumping in your ear, “I cannot bear to hear another excuse, I feel as if you have been away for weeks.” 
He’s quiet for a moment, wrapping his long, lean arms tightly around you as he rests his chin on your head, your breaths the only sound in the stony chamber. “I’m sorry,” he finally whispers, smoothing a hand up and down your back, “I miss you too, my sweet girl.” 
You hum, leaning further into his embrace after going without it for so long, “You haven’t touched me in weeks.” You say quietly, his touch already igniting a spark in the pit of your stomach. 
“Perhaps tonight,” his breath is warm against the top of your head as he speaks into your hair, “I will try to cut my meeting with–”
“You’ve been saying that for weeks,” you cut him off once more with a sigh, pulling back to look up at him, “I can’t take anymore, my love, I need to feel you.” You whine, nearly petulant like a spoiled child. If it were any other time, if you were any less desperate, you’d be embarrassed at your behavior. Right now, though, you could not find it within yourself to care as you stared into your husband’s darkened eye, finally feeling the passion you had gone so many weeks without. 
Aemond chuckles as he looks down at you, conflicted between feeling pleased to see you reduced to such a state while also feeling a similar fire in his own belly. “Sweetling, the meeting–”
“Is not due to start for at least another hour!” You interrupt, determined to persuade him to this. Taking you in various parts of the Keep was not new to him, both of you had plenty of memories from your courtship and first year of marriage of rutting together in all sorts of nooks and crannies of the old castle. 
Aemond gazes at you for a long moment, an unreadable expression on his face, though his eye remains dark with desire. After a second, he nods to himself almost imperceptibly, seeming to come to some decision you weren’t privy to. Finally, finally his lips descend upon yours as he sweeps you into an all-consuming kiss, his arms tightening around your waist as he pulls you to him, groaning lowly in his throat as he licks into your mouth. You shiver in his grasp, finally tasting him properly after so long as you whimper and whine into his mouth.
“Aemond,” you gasp as you finally part from him, mewling as he immediately trails kisses down your jaw, “What–”
“Seems I can never deny you for very long, sweetling,” he huffs, halfway laughing as he guides you over to the large table, pulling you up by the waist until you’re sitting on the cool stone table, your legs bracketing his trim waist, “I’ve missed you too, my love.” He confesses, sweeping a lock of hair from your shoulder before trailing kisses up across your neck and jaw, one hand already desperately pulling up the bottom of your gown.
You huff out small moans and whimpers, relishing his warm touch. His nimble fingers finally manage to undo the knot at the front of your smallclothes and he tugs them down quickly, leaving you bare for him under your skirts as they fall to a pile on the floor just beside his chair at the table. 
“Husband,” you pant, tugging at the drawstrings at the top of his trousers, “Please, please do not make me beg today, I–” Your train of thought is cut off as a moan, louder than it should be given the location, tears itself from your throat when you feel his long fingers ghost over your center.
“Shh, darling,” Aemond grins as he feels your arousal immediately coat his fingers, a pleased hum emanating from deep in his chest as he feels it already coating the insides of your thighs as well, “I don’t have the patience to restrain myself today, sweet one,” he mutters, watching your face carefully as he spreads your folds and teases your entrance with a finger before carefully sliding it in, groaning with satisfaction at the feel of your walls already tightly clamping down on it, “Nor the time.” He adds with a slight smirk, pale hair cascading like a curtain down his shoulders as he leans his forehead against yours. 
“Oh, Gods,” you whimper, eyes fluttering shut as your hands white knuckle the dark leather of his tunic, too uncoordinated with lust to manage the ties on his pants, “M-My love, more please!” You whisper, angling your hips to try and catch another of his fingers. 
You hear him chuckle above you before he pulls his finger from you, smirking as you whine pitifully at the loss. Before you have a chance to protest, he quickly undoes his trousers, not bothering to pull them down at all and opting to merely loosen the laces at the front enough to free his cock. Your eyes widen as you watch his hand stroke over his length momentarily, taking in the way it already throbs in his grasp, the head flushed and leaking from merely having you in his hands once more.
“Ready, sweetling?” He asks, gently tilting your chin up as he captures your lips in a sweet kiss, his other hand positioning his length at your entrance. 
You part from him and nod eagerly, widening your legs and angling your hips, “I’ve been ready for you for weeks, Aemond.” 
He smiles softly, pressing one more kiss against your neck before finally pressing into you, growling as he sinks into your slick heat. “Seven,” he grunts, cradling the back of your head with one hand as his other slinks down to grab at your hip, “You feel better every time, sweetling.”
You moan hotly against his shoulder, sinking your teeth into the thick leather of the shoulder of his tunic in an attempt to quiet yourself. Your eyes squeeze shut at the feel of him sliding into you, filling you to the brim perfectly. You’ve been without him for so long that he feels enormous, your walls aching as he stretches you out, pressing in and in until he’s finally seated fully within you. 
Without another word, Aemond started thrusting into you, slow at first but quickly picking up the pace with every firm roll of his hips into you. After only a moment, he’s already grunting like a madman into your ear, holding you to him even as you cling tightly to his shoulders yourself, your legs wrapped loosely around his waist. 
You feel a fire building in your belly at a breakneck pace as he ruts into you, the hand on your hip no doubt leaving fingerprint bruises across your skin, even through the fabric of your gown. If the low groans from your husband are any indication, he isn’t doing much better. He threads his fingers through your hair, pulling you into a desperate kiss, teeth and tongues clashing together frantically as if the two of you are trying to fall into each other, to become one. 
“My love, I—,” he pants against your lips, jerking your head back by the grip he has on your locks. His eye meets yours, the light lilac almost entirely eclipsed by his pupil as he stares at you hungrily, “It’s been so long, I don’t know how long I can last.” 
His breath is warm as it fans over your lips and you nod dazedly, zings of pleasure radiating up your spine from Aemond’s grip in your hair only adding to the warmth quickly threatening to overtake you. “It’s okay,” you swallow thickly, eyes already rolling back with pleasure, “I can’t either.” 
Nodding in return, he picks up the pace, the head of his cock rutting against the most sensitive spot within you hard enough to make you see stars. He hasn’t even needed to tease your pearl and you’re already nearly unraveling as Aemond mumbles nearly incoherent praises, the hand on your hip traveling lower, nearly cupping your ass. 
Just as you’re about to warn him of your inevitable release, muffled voices sound from behind the thick wooden doors that lead into the Small Council chambers. Aemond slows within you as both of your heads swivel to the doors — just in time to hear the guards stationed outside begin to tug them open. 
You freeze, eyes widening as the doors open, seemingly in slow motion. Thankfully, your husband moves quickly enough for the both of you, nimbly scooping you into his arms before hastily dropping down into his chair, hurriedly scooching it forward until both of your laps are hidden under the stone surface of the table, before kicking your smallclothes under the table at the last second. 
Your head whips around to face Aemond and you give him a panicked, wide-eyed look just as people start filing into the room, unaware that you’re still being split open by your husband’s length. One hand, still on your hip, tightens, silently commanding you to be still as his lilac eye pleads the same; his other hand is already poised on the table, relaxed against the cool surface as if he doesn’t have a care in the world. 
“Yes, yes, we must certainly ask him once he’s back in King’s Landing,” Lord Tyland’s voice fills the chamber as he walks in, engaged in a conversation about something or other with Lord Corlys, the two sharing a laugh before finally taking notice of you and Aemond, “Prince, princess.” Tyland bows his head at the two of you with Corlys following soon after. 
You sit frozen atop your husband, gazing blankly at the two men without a word. Thankfully, Aemond has the presence of mind to bow his head politely, though he stays quiet. As they walk further into the room, you can only see Tyland and Corlys from the corner of your eye but you don’t miss the odd look they share, silently asking each other why you were present and certainly why you were sitting on Aemond’s lap. Blood rushes to your head so quickly you feel lightheaded, your cheeks stinging as a harsh blush quickly appears on your face from their attention. 
Maester Orwyle files through the doorway next, doing a double take at you and Aemond before bowing his head, a gesture that you thankfully remember to return this time as you stiffly nod your head. Thankfully, the older man simply takes a seat at his place at the table without any comment, though you can hear the two other men speaking quietly in the corner of the room, throwing glances your way as they do. 
Your walls tighten around Aemond’s length as the rest of you tenses up when Larys creeps in, leaning against his cane as he moves; Aemond thighs tense underneath you as you hear him suck in a breath, only slightly more hasty than normal — the hand in your hip tightens, warning you to keep it together. 
“Prince Aemond, princess,” Larys nods as he approaches the table, “To what do we owe the pleasure of such… intriguing company?” He questions, tilting his head as he narrows his eyes ever so slightly, his eyes bouncing between you and Aemond. 
Your head spins as you stare straight ahead, willing yourself to respond, to say anything, to appear somehow normal. Yet, nothing comes out as your center throbs uselessly around Aemond, your head cloudy with need as your eyes stare ahead blankly, though registering just enough to pick up on the small smirk playing at the corners of Larys’s lips. 
“My wife appears to have taken ill this morning,” Aemond drawls from over your shoulder while affectionately petting your waist, a gesture entirely for show, a lie to placate the men in the room, but it comforts you nonetheless. He clears his throat before continuing, the only tell thus far that your warmth around him is affecting him at all, “My presence brings her great comfort, I see no reason why she should be without it.” 
“I see,” Larys hums in response, his dark eyes sweeping over your form, sparkling ominously as if he knows the truth, “What shame, let us hope the Gods grant you reprieve from this…illness soon, princess.” 
“Yes!” You finally squeak, snapping back to attention as Aemond just barely squeezes your side, “Yes, let’s hope so. Thank you, Lord Larys.” You breathe, managing a smile small. 
You shift on your husband’s lap and immediately you know you’ve made a mistake as the head of his cock prods directly into that overly sensitive patch within you, nearly making you topple over on the spot as a small groan escapes you. Blessedly, you have enough presence of mind to cover it up with a cough, sparks jolting down your back as Aemond presses a soft kiss to your cheek, one of his hands coming up to rub soothing circles against the back of your shoulder. 
“There, there, sweetling,” he says softly, again, entirely for show as you put on your best performance, “Once the meeting is over, we will have the servants make some tea for you, that will help with that cough.” Even if it was for show, you couldn’t help but shiver at Aemond’s low voice, at how he’s being so soft and caring with you. That, combined with the incessant prodding to your sweet spot, has you throbbing around him, your heart hammering in your chest. You can hear Aemond suck in another barely there gasp behind you, a groan low enough to remain silent rumbling against your back while at the same time his hand almost imperceptibly twitches on the table; his composure makes you feel all the more lightheaded, blushing somehow deeper at the fact that he’s taking you apart this easily without so much as moving a muscle. Your thighs trembled atop his lap, the insides already sticky with your arousal as you struggled to stay still, silently thanking the Gods that at least your laps were hidden. 
“I’m sorry,” Corlys began, striding over from his spot in the corner with a sheepish look, “I really feel I must speak up, this is really most unusual.” He finishes through an awkward laugh, Tyland following closely behind him as they saddle up to the table. 
“What is most unusual?” Alicent asks, entering the Small Council chambers with Otto, followed closely after by Aegon and Ser Criston. Her eyes sweep over the room, pausing when she sees you, though she quickly corrects herself with a soft smile. “Ah, my dear,” she nods hello to the various men in the room before sitting at the table, “May I ask why your wife joins us, Aemond?” She peers at him curiously, throwing a nervous glance at Aegon who is smirking far too much for her liking as he slinks up to the table. 
“It seems the princess has fallen ill, your grace,” Larys answers quickly, slyly smiling as he turns to face the dowager queen, “Prince Aemond insisted she stay so that she may be…comforted.” You quickly look away from him as his eyes meet yours once again, piercing through you as though he can see directly through your gown. 
“Yes, which is most odd,” Tyland butted in, throwing glances between you, Aemond, Alicent, and Aegon, “She is not a member of the council, she should not be present. Surely there is some way the princess could be comforted that does not involve being privy to government matters.”
Aemond stays silent behind you, glaring daggers at Aegon over your shoulder, watching carefully as he traipses over to the table and stands at its head, his eyes never straying from his brother’s as they stare one another down. The other members, some reluctantly, take their places at the table as well, each of them standing so long as Aegon does, though you and Aemond remain seated; your eyes never stray from the marbled surface of the table.
“Aemond, please,” Otto sighs from his place next to you, “The least you and the princess could do is stand for–”
“I see him everyday,” Aegon interjects, breaking eye contact with your husband as he rolls his eyes, “I don’t give a shit if the fool stands.”
Your eyes dart up at that, shocked that Aegon isn’t taking the chance to thoroughly humiliate Aemond by putting him on the spot. The king’s violet eyes meet yours, sparkling with a mischief that makes your center flutter around your husband’s length – Aegon’s smirk grows as if he knows exactly what just happened. A thin sheen of sweat makes you feel clammy as Aemond’s cock twitches inside of you, pushing him against your sweet spot all the more. 
“Very well,” Alicent swiftly cuts in, determined to keep the peace, “Shall we get st–”
“Are we really going to allow for the presence of–” Corlys starts, only to be viciously cut off.
“She stays,” Aegon says flatly, shooting a bored look at the man, “If anyone has an issue with the princess’s presence they may take their leave.” His violet eyes pass over the room, almost daring anyone to move. Everyone remains still, though you can feel Tyland and Corlys glaring at the side of your head, and after a moment, Aegon takes his seat followed by everyone else; blessedly, the meeting finally begins. 
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The Small Council meeting drones on and on, with various conversations of coin and ships, concerns abroad in Essos, and other diplomatic matters that mean nothing to you. In the back of your mind, you know it’s hardly been any time at all but it feels like an eternity has passed with Aemond’s hard length still piercing into you, twitching against your pulsing walls every so often. A part of you wonders if he does it on purpose, gives you just enough stimulation to cruelly tease you before going stock still once more. 
The small, unnoticeable to everyone but you, hitches of his breath tell you otherwise and deep down, you know he’s just as affected as you, no doubt steadily leaking into you, though you dare not consider the thought for very long. 
“Aemond,” your breath catches in your throat as Otto directs his attention to your husband, everyone else's gaze quickly following, “Any further communications from Dorne?”
Behind you, your husband clears his throat and you feel him shift beneath you, sitting up slightly straighter in his seat, both hands now clasping your waist to keep you steady on top of him. “Negotiations with the Dornish remain stagnant,” he begins as you practically wilt on his lap, the added attention from the council members making the knot in your belly tighten in a way you shudder to consider, “We received a raven from Prince Qoren some days ago rejecting any dealings with the crown, no matter the amount of coin we have to offer.” He finishes, pointedly looking at Tyland, who proceeds to butt in.
As soon as the attention shifts off of the two of you, it’s like the air around Aemond changes, becoming charged all of a sudden as you feel his chest heave against your back. At the other end of the table, Tyland begins to raise his voice, debating hotly with Corlys and Otto, drawing the attention of everyone else to them. 
“Do you think you can be still?” Aemond whispers, his breath hot against your ear although his voice is barely audible even to you. He must sense you freeze on his lap as the hand on your hip begins to move slowly, dragging your skirts up your legs until his hand can slip underneath them, making you tremble as he grips the soft skin of your thigh, “Tighten around my cock if you can be still.”
Against your better judgment, you do as he says, tensing as you clench your walls around him; his only reply is a low growl against your back. He stays still for a moment, trying with all of his might to appear as if he’s taking great interest in the ongoing argument taking place. 
Finally, once he’s positive everyone is too preoccupied arguing over coin to pay attention to either of you, his deft fingers slip through your folds before finally twirling against your aching pearl. 
You have to bite harshly at the inside of your cheek to keep quiet, trying to keep your breathing steady as you focus on not moving even though you so badly want to rut your hips against his fingers as they rub against you. 
Aemond swallows thickly behind you as he slowly circles his fingers, careful to keep his pace light and steady to not stir up any slick sounds from your wet cunt, though he longs to hear them. 
Your elbows rest against the top of the table, your hands clasped tightly in front of you. The conversation around you seems to shift as Otto begins prattling on about some Tyrell woman finally being with child. Aemond’s fingers suddenly pinch at your sensitive bud and a gasp tumbles past your lips before you can stop it, drawing everyone’s attention. 
“Is everything alright, princess?” Alicent questions from across the table, her dark eyes narrowed with concern. 
You nod quickly, coughing to conceal a moan as you open your mouth to answer her, “Y-Yes, I’m sorry,” you apologize with a weak smile, “I’m just so pleased for the Tyrells, what a j-joyous time this must be for them.” You say quickly, stumbling over the words as your core clenches tightly around your husband’s cock, his small touches driving you steadily to your peak despite the circumstances. 
Alicent gives you a curious look before quickly collecting herself, “Yes, I’m sure the family is quite thankful, children are always such a blessing,” she smiles politely before turning back to her father, “Please, continue.” 
Otto’s voice hardly reaches your ears as he picks up where he left off, though you don’t miss the horribly put out looks you garner from Tyland and Corlys. 
Aemond’s fingers just barely speed up as they swirl over your bud, though the small change is enough to drive you wild and you can feel the way his chest heaves against your back as your walls twitch around his length, threatening to milk his cock dry without him having to move an inch. 
The heat that has slowly been building within you finally begins to bubble over and your husband’s fingers show no signs of stopping as he pushes you closer and closer to your breaking point. The hand of his that has been resting idly on the table top comes over to casually rest against your clenched hands and rubs soothingly up and down your forearm, Aemond’s silent way of telling you he knows you’re close. 
Your eyes flick around the room as you feel your peak threatening to spill over you, frantically checking for any onlookers at the last possible second. You nearly jump out of your skin as your eyes finally land on Aegon, only to find him already staring at you, an amused smirk plastered across his face as he studies you. 
Aemond chooses that exact second to pinch at your pearl again and the small touch is your undoing. Your teeth bite down firmly on your tongue as your walls pulse rhythmically around your husband’s leaking cock, your eyes still locked on Aegon’s violet ones, now darkened with lust. 
Your muscles tense up as you peak helplessly, waves of pleasure lighting up every nerve ending within you. Somehow, you find it within yourself to remain quiet and still on Aemond’s lap as your eyes finally flick away from his older brother’s and you gaze, apparently absentmindedly, at some point on the wall on the opposite side of the room as your high subsides. 
Thankfully, Aemond takes pity on you and slips his hand away, his wet fingers resting gently in your bare thigh, still underneath your gown. 
You slowly come down from your high as the Small Council winds down, Aegon and Otto quickly discussing a few final points before the king formally adjourns the meeting. Tyland and Corlys practically bolt from their chairs, quickly bowing before they exit as they mumble between themselves, no doubt about the displeasure of your presence. 
Otto and Maester Orwyle take their leave soon after, each bowing politely. Aegon busies himself at the head of the table, leaning back in his chair as he lazily sips from his wine cup, the gleam in his eyes making you shiver. 
Across the room, Alicent and Larys whisper between themselves. Strangely, your mother-in-law blushes, shaking her head suddenly and mumbling a quiet, “Not here,” before glancing around the room.
Larys merely shrugs, turning to you as he shuffles from the room, “Do get better soon, princess.” He says with a feeble bow, although the look on his face makes you blush heavily. 
At that, Alicent turns to Aegon, “Would you care to come see the children with me?”
“Go on,” he dismisses her before nodding toward you and Aemond, “I wish to have a word with my brother.” He catches your eye with a quick wink. 
“Of course,” Alicent mutters, glancing curiously between the three of you, “I’ll ask the maids to bring some tea to your chambers this evening, princess. They make a wonderful lemon one that always seems to lift my spirits.” She says with a kind smile, coming around to place a comforting hand on your shoulder before she too heads to the door. 
“Thank you!” You breathily call after her, voice squeaking at the end as Aemond shuffles impatiently beneath you, his cock still prodding against your sensitive walls. 
Aegon chuckles darkly as soon as the doors close once more, standing from his chair with a wide smirk. “I must say, I’m impressed,” he taunts, eyes glinting as he looks between you and his brother, “I didn’t think either of you had that much gaul in you.” 
“What exactly are you tittering about now?” Aemond asks lowly behind you, his voice rough and choppy as his patience clearly wears thin. 
Sniggering, Aegon saunters around to stand beside you, violet eyes scanning over your laps still concealed under the table, “You’ve had your cock in her the whole time, have you not?” He teases, laughing harder still as Aemond merely hums in response, “Come brother, you should be proud of yourself,” he clasps a hand over your husband's shoulder, “She was nearly falling apart when she peaked.” He comments with a final wink as he ambles to the door, stopping to throw one last amused look over his shoulder, “You might want to do something about that bite mark on your shoulder.” He says casually before slamming the doors closed behind him. 
At his comment, you whirl around and your eyes grow wide as you spy a clear impression of your teeth marks in the leather of Aemond’s tunic, on his shoulder where you’d bitten down earlier. Your cheeks heat up at the thought of it being there throughout the entire meeting. 
You don’t have long to dwell on the thought though as your husband roughly pushes you from his lap until you’re bent over the table, cheek pressed to the cool stone surface. “Seven!” You sequel as he unceremoniously shoves his cock back inside you, his hips pumping wildly as his hands grasp at your waist harshly, no doubt leaving bruises. 
“Fucking finally,” he grunts, eyeing the way his cock disappears into your slick heat as he bunches your gown up over your ass, “‘M not gonna last.” He warns lowly, already panting with the speed of his thrusts. 
Your head spins once again as his cock moves within you, his pace nearly bruising. Your teeth sink into the skin of your forearm as you desperately try to keep quiet, another peak already welling up within you. 
Aemond growls and quickly threads the fingers of one hand through your hair, making you whine loudly as he pulls your head back until his chest is once again pressed against you, his other hand coming to rub against your abused pearl once more. 
“Aemond!” You moan, shaking your head in his grasp, one hand braced against the table as the other grabs at his forearm, feeling his muscles twitch as his fingers swirl against your center, “P-Please, I cannot keep myself quiet, I know I can’t—“ You start babbling. 
“Let them fucking hear,” he growls, eye squeezing shut as he feels his stones tightening up, “The whole keep can listen for all I fucking care, I won’t be stopping this time.” 
Your eyes roll back in your head at his words, never having heard him sound this possessed and overcome with pleasure before. After only a few more thrusts, you feel your walls twitch once more, a loud gasp rattling through your chest, “H-Husband, I’m—!”
“That’s it,” Aemond groans, redoubling his efforts against your pearl as he continues to rut into you at a nearly inhuman pace. “Peak, sweetling,” he commands, his voice low and raspy in your ear, “Peak while I breed your precious cunt.” 
His words nearly take your breath away and you whine loudly as another high washes over you, your walls milking your husband’s cock as they clench and pulse against it. 
Behind you, Aemond groans lowly, grunting as his cock twitches strongly inside you, his thick seed flooding into your heat as he finally, finally peaks, the pleasure of it making him dizzy as he leans against your back, forehead pressed between your shoulder blades. 
The two of you are quiet for a moment, your tired pants the only sounds in the chambers. Finally, Aemond untangles his fingers from your hair, both of his hands coming to rest against the cool table as he finally pulls his cock from your center, soothing you with soft shushes when you whine, the emptiness in your core such a foreign feeling after being filled for so long. 
He sinks into his chair once more and pulls you with him, wrapping a protective arm around your waist as you rest your head on his shoulder. Once your breathing is steady, you pick your head up, a displeased groan tumbling from your throat as you see your bite mark more clearly up close, a finger coming up to trace over the intents in the black leather. 
“I’ll need to send this to the seamstress for repairs,” you whisper with an apologetic sigh, “I believe this is beyond my ability to fix.” 
Aemond chuckles beneath you, lilac eye gleaming with pride as he clasps a hand over yours as it still rests on his shoulder, “Don’t trouble yourself with it, my love.” 
“What?” You question, smiling despite the way you tilt your head in confusion, “Aemond, I cannot fix it myself and I’m afraid the mark will not simply go away—,” 
“You misunderstand me, sweetling,” he says, smiling as he looks down at you, “I intend to keep it as a mark of great pride. I shall wear it as a trophy for all to see.” He explains with a teasing laugh. 
You playfully smack a hand against his chest, which only makes him laugh harder, “You can’t be serious!” You admonish with a wide smile.
“Why? I simply wish to remember this day,” he chuckles, “The day I made my sweet wife peak in front of the Gods and everyone.” 
“Aemond!” You cannot help the surprised laugh that leaves you, “You’re as disgusting as your brother!”
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tagged lovelies: @helloworldiamnotarobot @drakonflames @marysucks-blog @watercolorskyy @valeskafics @iamaegontargaryenwife0 @aemshaircare @1997babyyyy @lovellies @little-moonbeam-666 @blackswxnn @demirunner @eponaartemisa @trshngyn
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fastandcarlos · 6 months ago
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When He Pulls You Into His Hold » F1 Reaction
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» Max Verstappen
Making you jump is one of Max’s favourite things to do, and so he tends to pull you into his hold when you least expect it. The way your face flashes with panic makes him chuckle until you look back and realise that it’s only Max, allowing your expression to settle back into a smile. As much as you want to hit him for making you jump in terror, you can’t help but just relax into Max’s hold and rest your head against his chest whilst his fingers dance through your his, especially once he begins to kiss against the top of your head.
» Lando Norris
Usually Lando will hold onto you whenever he starts to feel his anxiety creeping in. He holds you to feel secure and loved, burying his head into the crook of your neck as he feels your hands over his arm. “You good bub?” You often whisper back to him, feeling his head nod against your bare skin as he struggles to find the words. Having you to squeeze is the perfect distraction for Lando, switching off and escaping into the bubble of only you and him. Whenever he can feel his heartbeat quicken, he searches for you to bring him back again.
» Charles LeClerc
You could be forgiven for thinking that Charles isn’t paying attention to you a lot when he pulls you into his hold, but actually, he does. His mind wonders to think about you when he’s doing even the most boring of jobs: scrolling through his phone; pretending to listen to someone talk or when you’re getting ready for bed. Those are the moments when he wants you closest the most as the feeling of you right beside him brightens any moment and brings a smile to his face as soon as your eyes meet, sending Charles into a melting mess.
» Carlos Sainz
Sleepy Carlos is definitely the favourite version of him that you love holding onto. His grip is tight to begin with but slowly loosens as he finds himself relaxing more around you. A faint whisper of your name will call through and let you know that he wants you, being the big spoon around you as you tell him about your day. A cuddle and your voice are the perfect combination to leave Carlos feeling weary, and soon enough you can usually hear the faint sounds of snores coming from behind you as Carlos settles holding on to his comfort person.
» George Russell
Whenever he misses you, George is there and holding onto you tightly so that he can familiarise himself with you. No moment is better for you both then that first hug, when George holds onto you a little tighter and for a little longer. There are never any words between the two of you, just the way that you hold onto one another tells you both exactly how the other is feeling and just how much you’ve both been missed. The embrace makes both of youth warts race and releases several signs of relief from you both as you’re reunited again.
» Daniel Ricciardo
You expect Daniel to pull you into his hold whenever you’re within reaching distance, it’s a habit for him that makes his heart happy having you right there beside him. There’s almost a smirk on your face whenever you think that you’ve managed to pass Daniel, but at the last minute his hand wraps around your wrists and pulls you as close as he possibly can. His bright smile meets you as you glance up, “didn’t think you’d get away that easily, did you?” He can’t help but tease, kissing against your temple as your head shakes at his sniggers.
» Oscar Piastri
More than most Oscar likes to hold you as it’s his way of protecting you and making sure that you’re close by. “I got you,” he’ll often whisper to you before pressing a kiss against your cheek in amongst the chaos that engulfs your busy lives. Oscar prefers to have his arm wrapped tightly around you, but if he’s only able to intertwine one of his fingers in with yours, he’ll reluctantly take it, searching for more, as long as he can hold onto you somehow and reassure you that you’re not alone then that’s all that matters to him.
» Pierre Gasly
Teasing cuddles are Pierre’s absolute favourite, he’ll love to hold onto you and do something that will make you resist against him. “Not today,” he’ll whisper against your neck, using his hot breath to send a shiver down your spine, or he’ll pinch against your waist to tickle against your bare skin as your shirt rides up, tightening his grip ever so slightly so that you can’t get away from him. Anything Pierre can do to get you to plead with him and hear you murmur against his name in between laughter he’ll try his absolute best to succeed at.
» Lewis Hamilton
Holding onto you is a subconscious thing for Lewis, without even thinking his arms reach out to you and make sure that you’re as close to him as your bodies will allow. He could be in an important meeting or listening to an important person, but that doesn’t stop his fingertips from brushing against your body or his chin resting against your shoulder gently. It often sends shivers down your spine as you hear his hums just underneath your ear as he acknowledges what is going on around him, despite his mind mostly just being filled with thoughts of you.
» Lance Stroll
More than anything else it’s habit for Lance to be holding onto you, he doesn’t even need to think to do it anymore. He’s there because he wants to make you feel loved, if you’re happy he’ll hold you and giggle away with you, if you’re sad then he’ll squeeze you extra tight to try and make you smile again, or if you’re just fancying a cuddle, Lance will be there to fulfil your need. “Is this alright?” He will constantly ask you, desperate to make sure that he is doing the right thing and leaving you with a heart that made you feel adored.
 ˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗
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mythicalmaven · 2 months ago
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Extraordinary - Oscar Piastri (ONE SHOT)
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masterlist
Here is a little extra upload to celebrate Oscar's second F1 Grand Prix win! :) So enjoy is a post Azerbaijan GP celebration smut! Let me know what you think of it & let me know if you want a sequel to this!
↳pairing: oscar piastri x female!reader ↳word count: 3K ↳warnings: smut, 18+ content (MDNI!), handjob (m! eceiving), oral sex (m!receiving), feelings, kissing, praising, explicit sexual content, childhood best friends to lovers, making out, first kiss,
↳summary: Oscar just won the Azerbaijan GP. You, his childhood best friend & the one he secretly has been in love with for years, have always been by his side. Every race you attended ended with the same ritual; hugging, talking, and sharing the post-race high in a purely platonic way, both trying to ignore your feelings. But today felt different. His win stirred something in you, the urge to make him feel good overwhelmed you, your feelings too strong to contain any longer.
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Credits for the gif to: @princemick
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Oscar had just won his second Formula 1 race, and the energy in the paddock was electric. The cheers, the celebration, and the pride that radiated from his team made everything feel larger than life. But all of that faded the moment he stepped into his driver's room and saw you.
Like always, you were there waiting for him, the one constant in all the chaos. It had become something of a ritual between the two of you when you attended his races—a hug, a shared conversation, and time spent basking in the post-race high. But today felt different. The intensity in the air between you was thick, palpable in a way it hadn't been before.
As soon as he stepped into the room, his eyes found yours, and you couldn’t help but admire how good he looked — flushed with adrenaline, glowing from his second win in Formula 1. He was more than just your best friend at that moment; he was a man who had just conquered the track, and the sight of him like this stirred something deep within you.
He came to you for that familiar embrace, but when his arms wrapped around you, something shifted. There was a heat in his touch that you hadn't noticed before, or perhaps, had refused to acknowledge. The feel of his racing suit, tied loosely around his hips, the way his body pressed against yours—it was all too much. And when you pulled back, your hand didn't leave his abdomen. Instead, it hovered just above the waistband of his fireproofs, your fingers playing with the fabric. A gesture that felt as natural as it was intimate.
"Oscar Piastri," you purred, unable to help the words that spilled from your lips, "two-time F1 winner. Look at you, all grown up..."
He smirked, his eyes twinkling with pride and something else—something that made your heart skip. "You sound surprised" he teased, though his voice was a little rougher than usual, the hint of nerves and excitement betraying him. “Didn’t think I had it in me?”
You let your fingers trail along his abdomen, just brushing the hem of his fireproofs. “Oh, I knew you had it in you,” you said, your voice lowering as you allowed yourself to finally cross that invisible line. “I just didn’t realize how… hot it would look on you.”
His breath hitched at your words, and he pulled back just enough to look down at you, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “You… you think I look hot?” he asked, his voice ragged, almost disbelieving, the hint of nerves and excitement betraying him.
You felt emboldened by his response, your pulse quickening with adrenaline. As you nodded at him, your fingers slipped under the hem of his fireproofs, teasing his skin, noticing the way his breath hitched, his body reacting instinctively to your touch. Slowly, you began to peel up his fireproofs, revealing more of his skin inch by inch, savoring the way his muscles tensed beneath your fingers.
“You deserve a reward,” you whispered, your lips brushing against his ear, sending a shiver down his spine. “For being such a champion.”
Oscar’s eyes fluttered shut, and he let out a ragged breath, the weight of your words sinking in. “A reward?” he asked, his voice strained as he tried to keep his composure, though you could tell he was unraveling beneath your touch.
You nodded, gently crowding him back against the door, your body pressing closer to his. His breath came in shallow gasps, and you could see the conflict in his eyes—excitement and nerves coalescing into something overwhelming.
“What are you doing?” he asked softly, his voice shaking, though his hands didn’t move from your waist.
“Rewarding you, like I said,” you replied, your voice sultry and full of promise.
Your fingers continued to explore, tracing the muscles of his abs under the fabric of his fireproofs. Oscar’s breath became uneven, his body responding to each touch, every soft graze of your fingertips. The heat between you was palpable as your hand slowly moved lower, teasing at the waistband of his race suit, brushing over his skin.
You carefully made your way to the sleeves that tied his race suit loosely around his hips. You untied the knot of his race suit, taking your time, savoring each second of anticipation. His eyes were locked on yours, the tension building as your hand slipped inside his now open suit, palm pressing against him through the fabric of his boxers. Oscar’s breath caught in his throat, a soft groan escaping him as you began to palm him gently, feeling him harden beneath your touch.
“Tell me if you want me to stop” you whispered softly.
His body reacted instinctively, his hips shifting slightly toward you, but he was still, letting you set the pace. Your hand slid further inside his race suit, fingers caressing him through the fabric of his boxers. His breath hitched again, and his grip on your waist tightened, the tension in his body unmistakable.
“God… you have no idea how good this feels,” he whispered, voice shaky as you continued teasing him through the material. His eyes fluttered shut, the pleasure already overtaking him as you finally slipped your hand inside his boxers, your fingers wrapping around him. His entire body tensed, and a low groan escaped his lips again as you stroked him gently, savoring every response, every tremble that coursed through him.
His hand found your hair, his grip tightening slightly as he struggled to hold himself together. “Fuck… you’re so good,” he moaned, his voice barely more than a whisper, his head tilting back, eyes closed in pure bliss. “So fucking good.”
You smiled up at him, continuing your slow, deliberate movements, relishing the way his body responded to your touch. After a few moments of building that delicious tension, you paused, your voice soft and sultry as you asked, “Can I take this off?”
Oscar’s eyes snapped open, and he looked down at you, his expression filled with desperate need. “God, yes,” he rasped, almost a plea.
With a soft smile, you began to sink to your knees, pressing gentle kisses down his abdomen as you slid his race suit and boxers down to his ankles. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, the tension in his muscles as you kissed your way lower, teasing him with your lips and tongue.
Oscar’s breath became shallow, his body trembling with anticipation. His hands found their way into your hair again, his fingers tangling as you knelt in front of him.
You smiled up at him, your fingers wrapping around him again, moving in slow, teasing strokes as you watched him fall apart. His reaction fueled your own desire, and you couldn’t help but admire how beautiful he looked like this — vulnerable and completely overwhelmed by you.
“You have no idea how often I’ve thought about this,” he whispered, his voice raw and full of need. “How many times I’ve imagined you… like this.”
You leaned in, your lips brushing against his skin, testing his responsiveness as you trailed soft kisses around thighs and hips, purposefully avoiding his dick to make him want you even more. Each kiss sending a shiver through him, his body responding to every touch. 
“You’ve always been my champion,” you murmured, leaning in to press a soft kiss against his hipbone. “It’s time I show you just how much I’ve been rooting for you.”
His breath hitched when you gently licked a stripe up his shaft, your movements slow and teasing. Oscar’s reaction was immediate—his body jerked, and he let out a loud, desperate moan, his voice filled with disbelief. “Oh God… I didn’t think…” He struggled to form words, caught completely off-guard by the intensity of it all.
You smirked, Oscar’s erection still hot against your lips as continued to tease him, your lips brushing against him, your tongue trailing along his length with agonizing slowness. Every movement made him tremble, his hips bucking slightly as you finally took him into your mouth. The moment you did, his entire body tensed, and he let out a whimpering moan, his voice shaky and full of need.
“God, you’re… f-fuck,” he stammered, barely able to form the words as his head tilted back against the door, eyes closed in pure bliss. “You’re… you’re incredible.”
You could feel the tension building in him, his muscles clenching as he tried to hold on. His hands tightened in your hair, as if to stop you from pushing him over the edge too soon. He was fighting himself, every part of him desperate for release, but struggling to prolong the pleasure.
“Fuck… I can’t… you’re driving me insane,” he moaned, his voice barely coherent. “I… I can’t hold back.”
You hummed around him, your tongue teasing and swirling as you took him deeper, savoring the way he reacted to every movement. His hands tightened in your hair, his hips bucking slightly as you set a slow, torturous rhythm.
“Y-you’re gonna make me—” Oscar’s voice was strained, his words interrupted by a broken moan as he tried to hold himself back. “I-I don’t want this to end… not yet.”
You paused, pulling back slightly to meet his gaze. His chest was heaving, and his eyes were glazed with pleasure, but you could see the way he was holding on by a thread.
“You don’t have to hold back,” you whispered, your voice soothing. “But I can go slow… take my time with you.”
Oscar nodded, swallowing hard as he tried to catch his breath. “P-please,” he whispered, his voice almost a plea. “I… I want this… I need this.”
You smiled up at him, your lips still teasing him, your hand continuing to stroke him gently, while your mouth was taking a break to give him some time to recover.
Oscar smiled back at you and you took that as a sign to continue. This time, you moved slower, your hand working in tandem with your mouth, teasing him, building him up again as his body trembled beneath you.
Every sound he made, every gasp and moan, sent a thrill through you. You loved seeing him like this, completely undone by your touch, and you couldn’t resist the urge to push him further, to make him feel every bit of the pleasure he deserved.
You paused for just a second, looking up at him briefly “You’re doing so well, Oscar,” you whispered, your voice filled with praise. “You’ve worked so hard for this… you’ve earned it.” 
Oscar’s eyes widened in surprise, his breath catching in his throat as he was caught off guard by your words. The intensity of his arousal spiked even higher, his body reacting instinctively. He had to clench every muscle in his body to not cum right then and there “God, no,” he moaned, his voice strained and urgent. “You can’t say things like that. It makes it so much harder to hold back. It’s making it worse...”
“Maybe that’s the point” you sassed, a smug, satisfied grin tugging at your lips as you continued to tease him. Your tongue flicked over him with purpose, taking pleasure in watching him lose control. Every gasp and moan he made sent a thrill through you, fueling your desire as you reveled in the way he was unraveling under your touch.
Oscar’s breath hitched again, his hands trembling as they gripped your hair tighter. “Fuck, I-I… you’re driving me crazy,” he moaned, his voice barely coherent. “Y-you’re… amazing.”
As you continued to pleasure him, you felt him getting closer, his body tensing as he neared the edge. His hips bucked against you, and his moans grew louder, more desperate.
“I can’t… I-I can’t hold on much longer,” he gasped, his voice breaking with need. “I’m… f-fuck, I’m so close…”
"Then don't hold back, Osc." you whispered, looking up at him "Let go for me"
You increased the pressure, taking him deeper, your mouth and hand working in perfect unison as you pushed him closer to his release. Oscar’s entire body shook, and with a final, shuddering breath, he came undone, his moans loud and raw as pleasure surged through him.
You kept going, guiding him through his climax, savoring every second of his release until he finally collapsed back against the door, completely spent. His chest was heaving, and his eyes fluttered open, still glazed with satisfaction and awe.
“God… that was…” he breathed, his voice ragged as he looked down at you with a mixture of disbelief and gratitude. “You’re… you’re incredible.”
You smiled up at him, feeling a deep sense of satisfaction wash over you. “You deserved every second of that,” you whispered, your voice soft and filled with affection. “You’re a winner, Oscar. And winners deserve rewards.”
When Oscar seemed to have come down from his high, you gently pulled up his boxers, carefully tucking him back inside. You then followed with his race suit, using the sleeves to tie it around his hips. While you were busy tying the knot, you looked up at him “I figured, since I was the one who undressed you, I might as well help you get dressed again" you chuckled at him "I know you'll take them off again when you go shower, but I assumed the walk towards the bathroom would be a little less complicated when you don't have your suit pooling around his ankles" 
Oscar let out a breathless laugh, still trying to catch his breath. “You just sucked my dick less than a minute ago and we're already back on the witty remarks" God, I love you, he thought
You laughed at him, still on your knees, smacking him softly against his now clothes thigh “Oi, don't act like you don't love it” you grinned. 
“I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” he murmured, his hands gently brushing through your hair. “But I’m the luckiest guy in the world.”
Before you could even react, Oscar pulled you up to your feet, his movements fluid and confident. In a heartbeat, he had flipped your positions, pressing your back against the door with a soft, welcoming thud. His hand rested possessively on your waist, the warmth of his touch radiating through you, while his other hand gently cupped your jaw. His thumb traced tender circles over your cheek, a silent promise of the passion yet to come. His gaze, intense and hungry, searched yours, as if looking for confirmation before closing the distance between you.
You subconsciously leaned into Oscar, his breath mingling with yours, warm and inviting, heightening the anticipation between you. You could feel the heat of his anticipation, the unspoken yearning that had built up over the years.
"I should have done this a long time ago" he whispered before finally closing the remaining distance between the two of you. 
When his lips finally met yours, you felt a surge of electricity coursing through your veins. It was a feather-light touch that seemed to savor the moment, the initial contact was so soft and exploratory, a gentle caress that spoke of the affection and longing you both had kept hidden. His lips moved with a slow, deliberate tenderness, each kiss a silent confession of his desire.
Oscar’s hand on your waist slid up slightly, his fingers tracing the curve of your ribs, while his other hand, still cradling your jaw, moved with equal care. He gently caressed the side of your neck with his thumb, his touch tender and reverent. The intimacy of his touch made your breath hitch, the anticipation building as his lips pressed more firmly against yours.
Gradually, the kiss deepened, and you felt the shift in intensity. He began to explore your lips with more purpose, his movements gentle yet insistent. A soft, teasing lick against your lower lip was his way of asking for entrance, a delicate and almost shy request that spoke volumes. The sensation of his warm, wet tongue against your skin made you shiver, heightening the tension between you.
When his tongue finally ventured into the kiss, it was a revelation. The initial touch was delicate, a tentative exploration that soon turned into a deeper, more passionate rhythm. His tongue slid against yours with a slow, deliberate grace, teasing and tracing patterns that spoke of the years of unspoken desire. Each movement was filled with intent, each caress a testament to the emotions that had been simmering beneath the surface. The kiss became an intricate dance of sensation, blending the softness of his lips with the boldness of his tongue, creating a connection that was as emotionally charged as it was physically intense.
Oscar’s fingers trailed their way up from your back, towards your shoulder, eventually tangling in your hair, his touch both possessive and tender. His hand that was on your jaw now slid gently to your neck, his fingers tracing a path of fire against your skin. The sensation was electrifying, a delicate contrast to the fervor of his kiss. His thumb rested on your cheek, brushing softly as if to reassure himself that this moment was real.
Oscar’s other hand drifted down from your hair to your neck, his touch as light as a whisper but filled with an undeniable intensity. He traced delicate patterns on your skin, his fingers lingering on the curve of your collarbone before sliding back up to gently cradle the nape of your neck. The sensation of his touch, combined with the softness of his lips, created a symphony of sensations that left you breathless.
Oscar pulled back slightly, his lips brushing against yours in a teasing, barely-there caress. His eyes, dark with passion, searched yours for a moment before resting his forehead against yours. The both of you completely out of breath. 
"Wow" you puffed out, still trying to catch your breath "T-That.. -That was extraordinary"
Oscar chuckles at you, a smile covering his face. The relief and happiness in his face evident. He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and says "You are extraordinary"
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