#I’m tired of us just being on our phones or playing games or whatever being pretty much silent together

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

[satorena]

#INTRO2MUNCH101

summ. when suguru “eat it off the bone” geto actually turns out to be suguru “flaps the left lip until she calls it a night” geto, he finds himself questioning everything he thought he knew about his skills. . . talk about a rude awakening.

cw. explicit content. foul language. fem!reader. college!au. eventual smut (but not in the way you think. . .) mild modern lingo. allusions to music artists. cunningulūs. male masturbation. reader has a belly piercing. she’s also depicted mean by the boys. gojo cameos bc i can’t not mention him. tattoo artist!geto. substance consumption. lowkeyyy self-indulgent reader. 10k wc.

rena's note. this is a spin-off to p power, so i’d suggest reading that first to understand the correlation!

suguru geto is a simple man.

your pleasure is his pleasure. he’s always prided himself on being a pro at the art of cunningulus. honest— he’s always left with swollen lips, a heavily sprayed face and a solid five star ratings at the end of his work. his jaw feels tired out, scalp burning from consistent hair tugs, and his breathing uneven from lack of oxygen. but at the feel of plush thighs squeezing his face and the repetition of his name flowing into the air before getting squirted on, he remembers it’s always worth it.

no pain no gain, right?

wrong.

because here he finds himself, a hefty hour in since he first dove in between your soft legs, and there’s been absolutely no development. sprawled on your back on his sheets, arm slung over your eyes, and your breathing even. you look fucking bored, and his heart is sinking to his ass.

geto will use every trick he has in the book. he’s noticed overtime that girls have different bodies, therefore he needs different tactics to stimulate those bodies. he nips at your puffy bud, sucking on your clit for external pleasure. no use. fine, then he’ll push your thighs up some more for a deeper penetration of his fingers in your cunt— still no use. the only sounds being produced are his mouth slipping against his own saliva at your pussy because he can’t even get you wet enough.

the pit in his stomach grows larger. he wonders if maybe you’re just the silent type? he’s come across those before.

he’s getting nervous out of his mind, so shaky and uncoordinated that his hand slips and meets your lips for the umpteenth time— and only then do you release a guttural groan, the very first sound you’ve made in a long ass time. wait—

“did. . . did you cum?” he pants, pulling his sticky lips away from yours. his face feels moist, blood rushing all in his head and he’s lightheaded. but still, he has to know.

you push yourself up to your elbows, annoyance clear as day. he’s yet to seen this look on a girl after pulling every card known on the table, “yeah. . . to the wrong fucking house.”

oh fuck.

☆ ☆ ☆

he first spotted you chatting it up with your friends on the school’s soccer field, on a random tuesday afternoon, and he’s been hooked on you ever since.

the universe played a funny game, and he realized university truly is a small ass world. amongst your friends, he noticed a familiar face. one he’s been hearing and seeing of one too many times lately, on multiple separate and traumatic occasions— gojo’s girlfriend. suguru found himself bonding with her due to their familiar point of interest— that being gojo— and believes he can now make of her a friend.

geto watches his best friend’s eyes shimmer and he flashes his infamous million dollar smile. he really is obsessed with his girlfriend and she doesn’t even know— and geto finds himself wishing he had somebody he’d be this ecstatic over. must be nice.

“i’m gonna go say hi to my girl real quick,” gojo taps at his shoulder, and geto nods. he’s cool on it, he’ll wait back here until he’s done, or can make his way to his next class depending on whatever gojo and his girlfriend arrange. “you comin’?”

“i’m probably gonna head to our next lecture.” geto voices out, pulling his phone from his pocket to check the time. he feels gojo peeking over his shoulder, in which he assumes to verify if that would be necessary.

over forty-five minutes. damn it.

“that’s mad pointless, class doesn’t start till more than half an hour,” gojo says, and geto doesn’t see himself waiting around that long for a lecture. no way, “just come— her friends are chill.”

fuck it, he goes. naturally, gojo is all over his girl and her friends expect it. geto does give them a little wave when gojo introduces him. one of the girls mention having heard of him through a friend— something about a failed talking stage. mad federal, and the sheepish chuckle geto offers when you give him an unreadable look makes him want to crawl into a ditch.

so now you think he’s a whore. awesome.

and gojo’s smirk definitely doesn’t help him out. he doesn’t help out at all actually, so enamoured by his girlfriend that he leaves geto to fend for himself against a pack of wolves (read: nosy girls). he replies only when spoken to, nods when necessary and throws in a few “that’s crazy,” to which the girls fail to pick up he’s out of words to say.

well, everyone except you.

you’re quiet. in fact, the whole time, you haven’t said shit to him. you sit back and observe, occasionally typing on your macbook, or reapplying your lip combo. you didn’t have any words to say to him. even when your friends would talk to you, you gave them short answers and went back to listening to whatever was playing in your airpods. he could tell from that small interaction alone, you were the mean one out of your clique.

and fuck if that didn’t make him want you more. there was just something about mean women that made him want to break through their fake ass exteriors and watch them turn all soft and chummy for him.

blame it on his corruption kink.

gojo confirms his thoughts when they’re finally on their way to class. he kissed his girl goodbye and waved off her friends, to which they all (minus you) collectively cooed, “byeee gojooo!” which he found odd, but kept silent. he gave them a small nod before following his best friend.

they’re a few steps in the science building when the words slip before he can help it, ultimately cutting gojo’s rambling off, “yo, who was that girl?”

gojo glances at him before chuckling, “there was like seven of ‘em. which one?”

“the quiet one.”

it throws him off guard when gojo laughs hard. like, really hard. it attracts the attention of bystanders, who give him a crazy look but gojo ignores. as if they’d try to press him about his volume— the two were pretty adored around campus.

geto does find his reaction quite interesting, to which he cocks a brow and offers a chuckle of his own, “what?”

“oh, you definitely mean y/n,” when his laughter dies down, he finally answers. he lifts his shades to his hairline to swipe a tear. “she’s mean as fuck, bro.”

“right?!” geto laughs, tapping at gojo’s shoulder. it only charges gojo’s laughing fit back up, “i could tell from her vibe. she gives off those ‘men ain’t shit’ girlies on twitter. whole time, she’s probably laid up in bed with one.”

“you don’t even knowww,” gojo holds his shoulder and shakes him a bit. geto does in fact know, because he’s dealt with girls like her before. they’re always a good ass time. “she does men dirty. like, absolutely dogs them. heard one phone call too many.”

oh? even better than he expected. she’s probably the type that used to love hard before getting her heart trampled on and decided to seek revenge on all men. like, on some jennifer’s body shit. geto can’t help but smirk, “lemme see for myself. put me on.”

gojo falters in his step. his grip on geto’s shoulders loosen and his expression changes— not by much, but the once lighthearted smile switches to a skeptical one, “you serious?”

geto lets out a soft sigh, shrugging gojo’s hands off his shoulders. “don’t start asking too much. i did a favour for you and your girl, didn’t i?,” well, technically speaking it wasn’t like his comment had been the deciding factor for the two, but it did open gojo’s eyes. “you owe me one.”

“i don’t owe you shit,” gojo laughs, throwing his arm around geto anyways, “buuut you’re my boy and i’m not stingy. i’ll see what i can do, i know you’ve been getting a lil jealous of wifey and i.”

“shut the fuck up.” geto’s chuckles contradict his statement.

from that point on, it’s smooth sailing. gojo texts his girl asking if she’s seeing anybody. they have a little back and forth because his girlfriend assumes he’s asking for himself— which gojo gets all dramatic and throws geto under the bus for free. welp! it all worked out anyway since after he and gojo parted, you’d thought he was fine shyt. judging from your character, he doesn’t exactly take gojo’s words for what they are.

but he’ll take the opening, it’s as good as any.

time to plot.

☆ ☆ ☆

the second encounter was purely coincidental. and simultaneously embarrassing.

see, geto prides himself on his mysterious act— granted he was anything but. people see all that is gojo and automatically assume that geto has to be the cool one. it creates a perfect balance, no?

haven’t people heard of birds of a feather flock together?

so yes, he’s also a nerd. he typically enjoys spending his wednesday afternoons at dice board cafes because why not. it’s a chill, lowkey joint right off campus and not a lot of people gravitate towards, therefore the perfect spot to camp out before his evening lecture.

besides, his buddy choso works there and it gets him discounts. it isn’t the only reason he shows up, but it does help a lot on his pockets. being a student is awful, financially.

geto sips on his choco latte through a straw, browsing through the board games pamphlet as he decides what he’s going to play today. most of these games are pretty pointless if he doesn’t have an opponent, but he likes to think it helps develop his iq. he hears avenoir playing through the cafe and knows choso’s on aux.

who else could be playing this toxic ass shit?

he’s torn choosing between snakes and ladders or chess when he hears chimes at the front door, signalling somebody’s entered the establishment. he doesn’t think much of it, going on about minding his business when he hears choso say your name.

the latte enters the wrong tube and he chokes.

geto collects himself quickly, wiping any stray liquid past his mouth as his head snaps up. you’re propped up against the counter, and though he can’t see your face, he definitely recognizes your build. . . okay, yeah that sounds fucking pervy but if he stalked your page a few times, who’s business is it but his own? it’s not like you’d know. granted, he had got caught up liking one of your older photos but he took the like right back!

he debates on walking up to you. how would that even work without seeming desperate? you’ve been checking out all of his boxes so far— your face, body and attitude (question mark) are all tens. he does want to get to know you— at least be somebody in your life. but damn, why is he overthinking this? all he has to get up there and sweet talk you. he’s done this shit before.

“yo, suguru!”

shit.

purple orbs shift towards where his name was called, and lo and behold, there stands choso. and naturally, you look back to who was summoned, but god— social media does not do your face justice. he last seen you about a week ago, and had nothing but your instagram and his memory to rely on.

he makes his way to the counter and ignores you. doesn’t spare you a glance once— though he stands right at your side and watches you watching him through his peripheral. he nods at choso, “what’s up?”

choso, ever the genius, flicks his eyes between geto and you, before clearing his throat, “shoko just texted— somethin’ about a new client. how’s the studio looking?”

“booked all week,” geto answers truthfully, and he notices you’ve shifted your gaze, “little to no openings. why though?”

choso hums, jolting down online orders into a little notebook, “not even for a special friend?”

geto squints his eyes at that. there isn’t anybody he’d call a special friend that hasn’t already been booked or wouldn’t have his number to squeeze in an appointment. granted, he is a dnd warrior but even his friends know of that quirk of his, “depends. who’s the special friend?”

“me.” and he feels his heart skip a beat. fuck. he tilts his head over to the side, and good lord, your face card gave every girl on campus runs for their money. seriously, your facial features complimented you in a way that told aphrodite— the textbook definition of beauty— to go fuck herself, and hard.

“oh?” geto cocks a brow, and lets his eyes roam up and down your frame. shameless, yes, but he has a reputation to uphold. your rest in face makes his own look like child’s play, “didn’t realize we were on special friends basis.”

you click your tongue, “didn’t realize we were on lurking spam accounts but pretend we don’t exist the next day basis either,” you quip right back, picking at the white bow glued to your acrylics.

sassy. geto chuckles, now fully turning his body around to face you. you match his movements, and he toys with a ring on his middle finger, “guess you got me all figured out,” he pauses, shifting his gaze to choso, who’s already eyeing him. “sounds like you wanted me to reach out.”

“boy please,” you scoff, pausing your nail inspection. you let your hand hang, “you choked earlier because you heard my name. that corny nonchalant act isn’t the flex you’re thinking it is,” a huff escapes your lips, and geto feels blood rushing to his face. “your lurking ass was months deep into my page just a week ago— did you find any men ain’t shit vibes from the photo dump?”

choso stifles a laugh, and when geto looks at him, it dies into a cough. well damn, you really didn’t hold anything back. read him like a book actually— and it doesn’t help that gojo can’t keep his mouth shut for shit. it widens the grin on his face. he thinks he likes you.

“well,” geto smirks, “can’t say i have— means there’s still an opening.”

you furrow your brows, “oh? an opening to what exactly?”

“an appointment, of course,” he shrugs, running a hand through his hair. his locks are getting in his face, but the messy look always gets him compliments. might as well shoot his shot, “you know. . .” leaning his chin into the palm of his hand, “for a special friend.”

his double entendre definitely doesn’t go unnoticed by you. he watches how, despite the mean mugging, there’s a glint of mischief in your eyes. you’re squinting just slightly, almost as if you were weighing out the pros and cons. geto won’t break the eye contact first— he’s on a mission. he hopes the tired eyes look will be on his side this time.

tattoo or dick appointment— he would one hundred percent make an opening for you. anything to get his hands on your body.

“are we still talking about the tattoo parlour or . . .”

both you and he turn to choso, who’s watching the situation unfold. just count on him to ruin the mood, whether the obliviousness was feigned or not. choso tightens his brows at the look geto shoots him, “what?”

“i’m gonna head out,” you grab at your handbag, hopping of the seat. nicely played choso. you gather your items and slip them in your purse, sliding a few bucks across the counter. choso grabs the bills and stick them in the tip jar, nodding at her. “catch you in poly sci?”

“if you don’t skip again.” choso snorts and you flip him off, slinging your bag over your shoulder. you turn on your heel and make your way towards the exit, ultimately dismissing geto. that doesn’t feel too nice, he should probably stop that bad habit.

he rises to his feet before he can help it. his hand grabs at your wrist and notices how much smaller it seems in comparaison to his, and he hates the next words that leave his mouth, “what about me?”

you glance down at his hold on you, before looking back up at him, “what about you?” your face says everything your lips haven’t— you’re getting the ick.

he wants to wince. okay, yeah that was corny, “when do i get to see you?”

you drag out a mini hum, your gaze dancing over his silver chain around his collarbone, “dunno. you have my socials so i assume in the next hour.”

he tilts his head to the side, and the pad of his thumb grazes over your smooth skin. he doesn’t fail to notice the way your hand stiffens under his touch, “so if i slide in your dms in the next hour, i can expect an answer?”

a snort leaves your chest, and he can’t tell if it’s a condescending one or an amused one. what he does know, however, is that he’s going to be seeing you sometime soon. you take your hand back into your possession before laying it in the dead centre of his chest, pushing him back just slightly, “i’ll see you around, geto.”

his eyes trail over your figure, every step you take out of the establishment, slightly starstruck by the entirety of you— your boldness. the thrill he was beginning to feel felt like a high. he hasn’t met anybody this entertaining in a while.

“you’re so fucking corny.” he thinks he hears choso insult him from behind. he doesn’t pay him any mind, despite the middle finger that tips towards the ceiling. partynextdoor blasts in the cafe, specifically freak in you, and he hates how he finds himself relating to the lyrics,

room full of beautiful women but he only wants one.

☆ ☆ ☆

“you stalking me, pretty?”

“sure,” you nod your head, raking through the items on the clothing rack. you don’t spare him a single glance, picking a top off the rack and inspecting it, “if stalking means visiting the busiest thrift store on the busiest hour in the busiest city.”

geto lets out a small laugh, shoving his hands in the pockets of his cargos. you make him feel like a nuisance, like he’s a pest wasting your time. ironic, seeing as he wasn’t that much of a bother just last night, when you’d been indulging him in your inbox, “of course you’re the thrifting type.”

you pause your actions, price tag in your fingers as you side eye him through locks of your hair, “and you’re not?”

“didn’t mean it in a bad way, sweetheart.” geto shrugs, pulling off a cropped baby tee and bringing towards you. it has sequins sewn in the material, the gems writing out juicy couture. “this would suit you— belly piercing and whatnot.”

the top is cute, there was no denying so. a pretty shade of pink that suited your complexion, but letting his ego inflate bigger than it already was out of the question. he could tell your thought process from the judgmental look you offered, “oh god—you’re one of those fake ass, streetwearing fashionistas, aren’t you?”

geto blinks a few times, before letting out a sincere laugh. he’s been called a multitude of things before, but that one was new, “you got all that from me suggesting you buy this juicy couture tee? don’t all girls fiend over this vintage shit?”

“it’s that corny ass personality of yours,” you grab the shirt, throwing it in your cart. he wants to make a comment on that, but you beat him to the chase, “the phoney nonchalant act, the streetwear, your insta aesthetic— you’re so scripted.”

“my insta aesthetic?” he repeats, and doesn’t miss a step to catch up to you. your hands are back on the handle of your shopping cart, and if the way his elbows bump into your shoulders bothers you, you don’t make point in commenting on it. “who’s the lurker now, hm?”

you roll your eyes, pushing the strolley ahead, “don’t let it get to your big ass head. your feed screams you’re those toxic ass brent faiyaz wannabes,” he watches your fingertips rake through more clothings that pass your way, before you shoot him a glance, “let me guess— he showed on your spotify wrapped.”

his silence speaks volumes, and you click your tongue, “see? scripted.”

“and what about you?” geto counters when you make a pit stop. you pull away from your cart when a denim skirt catches your eye. you lift the skirt up to your eyes, before looking over your shoulder, cocking a brow.

“what about me?”

“the tweet reposts, the song choices for your highlights, the whole spiritual baddie persona,” he presses behind you, his chest meeting your back. he rests his chin atop your head, purple eyes landing on the clothing article that’s lowering in your hold, “if my page gives brent then yours definitely gives jhene.”

you’re mute for a second, and you chuck the skirt into the cart. you pull away from beneath him, spinning on your feet to face him, and you’ve got a scowl on your lips, “what’s wrong with jhene?”

“and you call me the toxic one.” geto pokes at your cheek. you swipe his hand away, and he laughs, “don’t get me wrong though— she makes good music. but let’s not act like she’s all innocent either,” his gaze lowers to your glossy lips, the fullness of the pair hypnotic, “a real freak. should i call you my pussy fairy?”

“do not,” you reply, weaving around him to make your way back to your cart. geto laughs, snatching a few things of the racks before dumping them in your stuff. you give him a deadpanned look and he whistles it off, feigning ignorance. “jhene’s a lovergirl. thought i was part of the men ain’t shit community.”

“you’re not gonna let that go, are you?” geto sighs. he owes gojo another thump in the head.

you roll your eyes, “thank your homeboy for that.”

“two things can be true at once,” geto fiddles with the hem of his jacket. he’s back at walking step by step with you, and you haven’t told him to fuck off yet, so he’s going to milk the opportunity out. “you’re mean but a lovergirl. you hate men but a real freak with them. right or wrong?”

you halter in your steps, and geto’s now a few steps ahead of you, so he looks over his shoulder to meet your bored expression, “i know you’re not trying to read me in the middle of value village.”

“no better time than the present,” he smiles, one that creases a dimple in his cheeks. “come on up— what are you waiting for?”

you stare at him some more, inhaling sharply, “mind you, i never invited you to join me,” you shake your head but comply regardless. cute, looks like you’re enjoying his company more than you’re letting on.

so he graces you his presence some more. he shops along with you, sneaks clothes into your cart when you’re distracted and asks you stupid questions. it’s a good time— to him at least, being able to get to know you some more without interruptions. naturally, you feign that his company is the bane of your existence, but he doesn’t miss the twitch of your lips when he taps his card into the reader at the check out.

hell yeah he’s got money to spend and is willing to show off if it means getting on your good side.

it’s only after he helps you bag your shit into your car, that he realizes this is where the both of you part ways. it annoys him slightly, but he doesn’t need to overstep his boundaries. he closes your trunk and makes his way to the driver’s side, where you’re already buckled up.

he taps at your window and the glass rolls down all the way, to which he leans forward. he’s in your line of sight now and you sigh, tilting your head sideways, “what?”

“do i get a goodbye kiss?” geto teases, honest, the boyish smirk he offers accentuating the playful undertone. the last thing he expects is you shifting in your seat, pushing yourself up and peaking your head out the window.

his smirk drops, brows jumping to his hairline. you’re really fucking close now, and for a split second he thinks you’re actually going to do it. he can see the flecks of colours swimming in your orbs, the tip of your nose bumps into his and your breath fans his cupid’s bow.

fuck, you smell really good. he bets you taste even better. his mouth is running dry, mindlessly darting his tongue out to wet his own lips. he doesn’t realize he’s let himself lean into your space, eyes narrowing on your mouth parting over his.

he’s pulled out of his trance when two fingers press at his forehead and push. he blinks his lashes, snapping back to reality as you sit back into your seat. you look amused— as if you’d played the funniest game right in his face and he’d been the star player.

“i’ll see you around, geto.”

and you drive off.

☆ ☆ ☆

“come back in a few weeks for a checkup. we’ll make sure the healing process is running smoothly. i’ll catch you soon.”

he lets out a tired sigh when the door finally closes, slumping into his seat and shuts his eyes. he’s exhausted— having woken up early for lectures and labs to back to back appointments with clients. this time around, the parlour is always booked and busy. students find it the perfect timing to get tatted to let it heal before showing it off in the summer.

it’s smart for them but idiotic for him. midterms are up, and the only time he has to study is in between appointments. he slides off his gloves and drags his seat towards his desk, redirecting his attention focus towards the blinding screen.

he feels a headache building at his temple, sipping at his iced coffee to keep him energized. contradicting, sure, but you didn’t have the luxury to be a beggar and a chooser when you were a full time student. the parlour he ran resided in his loft apartment, on the second floor. he enjoyed the comfort of his own home, spacious room and wide windows compared to outside stores.

his cat, nanako, purrs at his feet and he feels his heart swell. if there was one weakness he had in this world, it’d be her. he picks her up from the floor, presses her at his rib cage and nuzzles his nose in her fur.

“hi baby,” geto coos, and nanako lets out a sound. he continues to coddle her, fluffing her fur and rubbing at her ears, “it’s been pretty lively in here, hasn’t it? i knowww,” he coos, and as if nanako understands his words, she makes a pitiful sound that slightly shatters his heart.

geto decides to place her on his lap, her company serving plenty of motivation as he rolls back to his desk. he grabs the remote to his built-in speakers, turning the volume higher, before locking back in. exams are full of crap, and words are starting to jumble on his screen— he’s beginning to contemplate if this education shit is even worth the stress.

he’s an hour deep in jolting notes down on his ipad when he hears a knock at his front door. he scrunches his brows and glances at his agenda— he isn’t due for an appointment until another few hours. he sits it out, starting to believe he’d maybe imagined the sound. he knows it isn’t gojo since he’s celebrating an anniversary with his girl, and any other friend would’ve called to let him know they’re outside.

probably some jehovah witness shit, he thinks to himself, fingers hovering over his speaker remote to crank the volume back up. he turns back to his laptop screen, petting nanako mindlessly when his ipad flashes an instagram notification.

yourstruly.yn: open up

he jumps to his feet, chair rolling back. nanako flies to his desk, landing on all fours as she hisses at him for his suddenness. geto grabs her and kisses her ear, “sorry baby,” before sitting her on the floor. she walks off to her mini bean bag right at the foot of his desk, and he senses an attitude coming from her.

damn, he’d forgotten he squeezed you in last night in the midst of his sweet talking. that was truly a stupid move, he was already behind on studying, and because he likes to think with his head instead of his actual head, he’d fall even further behind.

he checks around the flat— picks up stray wrappers and fixes throw pillows, arranges his sheets. he was a clean man for the most part— he had been so distracted with his studies that there wasn’t much to dirty in the first place. his candles had already been lit so he knew the place smelled fine. he’s pretty positive his loft is clean enough to leave a good first impression.

he fixes loose hairs and straightens out his hoodie and sweats. thank fuck he’d showered not too long ago— he’s beginning to understand why his mother was always so insistent on being clean in case of random pop ups.

when he does finally open the door, there you stood. it was pretty chilly outside this time around, so he wasn’t surprised by the harsh wind flowing in and the clutch of your coat in your hold. your nose began reddening, and you sniffled, scowling from the cold.

you’re so cute, he sends you a smile, “hey.”

“hi,” you replied, sniffling again. “you ever planning on letting me in?”

“dunno,” he crosses his arms over his chest. he leans against the doorframe, ignoring the way he was starting to feel the frosty wind setting in his bones, “maybe if you ask nicely.”

you shoot him a deadpanned look, “move.”

“no.” geto smiles, “try again.”

“move, now.” a small pout is starting to form on your lips. he really liked testing your patience, since it always seemed to run low. you must’ve met your match— because geto always had time to fuck around.

“close, but not quite.”

“oh my goddd,” you groan, and that’s when he decides to let up. it really is colder than a bitch outside and he’d already kept you waiting while tidying up. he lets out a chuckle when you turn to the side, “i’m leaving— too damn cold for this.”

“alright, i’m playing,” geto widens the door. you stop your movements and glare at him. he aims an arm towards the inside of his loft, “don’t go, come in.”

you grumble something beneath your breath but comply, walking right past him. he follows behind you, shutting the door close and is immediately greeted back with warmth. you slip your shoes off and place them on the rack, before stepping in further into his apartment.

he slides his hands into his sweatpants’ pockets, catching up to you in the living room. your head is tilted upwards as you inspect the place though you remain in place. he stands beside you, bumping his shoulder into your arm, “so? up to your standards?”

you’re quiet for a while, letting your eyes roam around as the words build in your mind, “it’s typical,” you shrug but don’t elaborate. you’ve been staring at an art piece he’d done first year when he was fried out of his mind. you shift your gaze back to him, “where do i put my shit?”

“you can leave it in my bedroom, if that’s fine.” geto suggests and you nod wordlessly, to which he leads you to the second floor. he’s walking up the stairs and prays he doesn’t fall flat on his face— his socks can be a real bitch sometimes.

you both make it to his bedroom, with you trailing a little behind. he grabs a hanger from his mobile clothing rack, stretching an arm out to you, “i’ll hang your jacket here.”

you slide off the coat from your frame and hand it to him, to which he hangs on the rack. you circle around his bedroom with your tote on your shoulder, while he makes his way back to next to his desk. it’s pretty quiet for the most part, besides the music playing gently in the background.

your gaze lands on the cluttered items on his desk, noticing the half empty cup of coffee, notebooks and ipad on display, “did i catch you at a bad time?”

“honestly? yeah,” geto shrugs, before motioning at your tote bag. you slip it off and hand it to him, to which he sits at his nightstand, “but it’s my fault anyway, i squeezed you in a busy time. you know how exam season gets.”

“i can always reschedule,” you offer, checking your phone screen for the date, “it’s not that deep.”

“i don’t want you to leave,” geto slumps back into his seat and heaves out a sigh. he spins the chair around to catch you giving him a flat look. he leans back in his seat and spreads his thighs, smirking, “would you stay?”

“depends. are you going to be studying?” you quip, crossing your arms back to your chest.

geto ponders on what to say next. it’s not like he doesn’t want to tatt you up, but he really is caught in a bind. he also doesn’t want you to leave— not when he’s been wanting to see you since the last time he’d seen you. does he prioritize his wants or his needs?

he hums, “i’ll do whatever you want me to.”

you roll your eyes, scoffing as you make your way to his nightstand. for a second, he thinks you’re getting ready to leave and a weird feeling of disappointment settles in his gut. instead, you grab the bag and sit on the edge of his bed, pulling out your macbook and crossing your legs.

he smiles at that, “attagirl.”

“corny.” you mumble, chewing on your bottom lip as you begin typing away.

there’s a comfortable silence that fills the room. he’s back to browsing through his lecture notes, noting down valuable information and memorizing terminology. you don’t say anything either, but the sound of your nails typing at your keyboard blends well with his r&b playlist playing. sounds like you’re writing down an essay or report, depending on whatever your major is.

about half an hour into the silence, does he decide to break it. he looks over his shoulder to where you’re settled on his bed, “you good?” he checks up on you, and you let out a burnt out sigh. he knows exactly how you’re feeling.

“i guess,” you huff, twirling your necklace. your eyes are stuck on your screen, brows creasing into a scowl, “this shit is frying my brain though.”

“what are you writing?” he indulges, dropping his apple pen back onto his desk and spins in his seat to face you. maybe he’s also in due of a break— he’d rather be talking to you anyway.

“this crim report,” you answer, picking at your nail, “it’s not exactly hard but mad lengthy. i have to write a ten page report based on this article and how it contradicts societal norms.”

“ten pages?” geto whistles, rubbing at his chin. he’s settled deeper in his seat, naturally manspreading. you’re much better than him, he would’ve given up before even starting— reports were not his thing, “how far are you in?”

“i started this morning,” you hum, “so i’m four pages in.”

geto nods, “and when is it due?”

“tomorrow night.” you push your laptop off your lap. you close the screen shut and stretch out your legs, releasing a breathy moan as you relax your thighs. “i’ll do this shit later— my head’s starting to hurt.”

geto swears he’s never been so in sync in thought. he dismisses the idea of studying the second you had closed your macbook. probably a bad idea but at the moment, he couldn’t care any less, “want some entertainment?”

you cock a brow, “don’t say no stupid shit.”

“twenty one questions,” geto speaks nonetheless and finds himself beaming brightly when you scoff, “can’t a guy want to get to know you better?”

you ease yourself on his bed, slumping into his sheets as you exhale. you shift onto your side— a sinful curve at your side— tucking your knees and lean your head into your palm, “oh fuck off,” a breathless laugh and nanako makes her presence known, hopping right by you in the space between your body and the edge of the bed, “didn’t know you had a cat. she’s cute.”

“how’d you know she was a she?” geto wonders, surprised just slightly by how welcoming nanako was around you. she purred when you stroke at her fur, nuzzling further into your chest. nanako hated everyone— especially gojo, who unironically visited the most.

“instinct,” you shrugged but there’s a faint smile on your lips. not directed towards him, but his baby, “i also have a cat— he’s a fucking menace though.”

that’s one thing in common already, “like mother like son,” geto grins lazily when you flip him off mindlessly, and when you raise nanako in both your hands, he’s ready to warn you she isn’t a big fan of sudden movements— but when she mewls, the same sound she makes when geto brings home a new toy, the words die down in his throat.

he observes you both silently. you cradle nana as if she were a newborn infant, adoring and loving yet simultaneously careful and steadily. you’re cooing, calling her a sweet girl and rubbing at her ear, and nanako accepts you rather easily— too easily.

“woah.” was this those non-sexual turn ons people spoke about? for somebody so mean, you were oddly gentle with pets. he liked that— really liked that, so much that he pulls his phone out and snaps a photo of you two. but of course, because the universe loves to see him fumble, the flash goes off.

your head snaps to the side and he freezes. you narrow your eyes at him, slowly lowering nanako, “did you just—”

“so!” geto cuts you off, chucking his phone back onto his desk. it makes a loud cluttering sound, damn near knocks his drink all over, but ignores it, “my turn. what’s your cat’s name?”

“milo. and don’t cut me off—”

“milo the menace,” he cuts you off regardless, not wanting to have to decipher just what exactly possessed him to do that. he’s never done so, and he wasn’t about to explain why he’d done it just now. deflecting king! “i need to see the little guy. got any pics?”

you huff, extending a hand behind you to find your phone. when you clutch onto the device, you swing your legs off the bedside, always careful with nanako clinging to your lap. you lay her down on the floor, much to her dismay, before making your way towards him.

his eyes are stuck on your body before his mind can tell him to stop. not like it mattered much, your own eyes glued to your phone screen as you searched for the pictures he’d asked. you’ve got a matching tracksuit on— though the hoodie is cropped, thus exposing your navel piercing. he’d always had a thing for those, the pretty good jewel dangling below the button.

it didn’t help that your thong straps sat atop your waist.

he spreads his legs further open, and you stop right in between. for a moment, you’re stuck on your phone, and geto really wants to get those thighs straddling him. you look delectable— he’d pin your knees to your damn ears, sprawled on your back, and eat you out until you pleaded him to stop.

your hair was pulled back into a bun, and from this angle, he spotted scripture at the column of your neck. there was wording inked in arabic, and he made a mental note to ask you what it meant later.

geto leans back into his seat when you fold forwards, and he gets a good whiff of your vanilla scented perfume, tingling his senses in the best way, “found it?”

you nod your head, swiping through your gallery, “yeah, my bad,” you have a folder named ‘mimi’ and as expected, was filled off candid photos of your cat. he pays attention as you slide your finger on your screen, selfies of you both in the morning passing by.

“cute,” he isn’t talking about the cat, and his gaze flicks from the screen to your face. there’s still a considerate amount of space between you both, but he can see your eye colour much clearer this close up. you blink your lashes at him and he smirks, “anything else you wanna show me?”

you sniff, “don’t be gross.”

“i meant of milo,” geto definitely didn’t mean of milo. you cock a brow skeptically, and he mirrors the look, though the smile on his face grows, “what a cute lil thing,” his voice lowers and his words trail off. there’s a beat of a pause for a while, and his gaze falls on the plumpness of your lips, “you gonna let me pet your kitty?”

another beat of silence. you’re staring at his lips, and he wonders what you’re thinking. he can tell you’ve picked up on what he’s laying down (hopefully you in the next few minutes) but he can’t tell what your next move will be.

“depends. . .” a soft whisper, and he feels your breath fanning over his cupid’s bow. you flick your eyes back at him, and he finally understands the whole siren eyes shit. through lidded eyes, your stare is intense— simultaneously pulling him in closer while pushing him back. you’re toying with him, and the hand he slides up from your thigh to your ass is enough fuel. “you any good?”

he brings a second hand to the other ass cheek, and urges you onto his lap. you comply, looping your arms at the back of his neck. he feels your nails grazing at his scalp and he holds back a lethal shudder. your weight feels amazing against him— his hard on poking and making its presence well aware.

“i’d like to think i am,” he knows he is, but playing humble always goes a long way. he lets his hands run over the cup of your ass, trails back up to your hips, and slides a finger beneath the thong strap. when he snaps the material at your skin, your back arches and you press your chest against his own.

“well,” you exhale when he noses into the crook of your neck, right above your tattoo. he’s littering wet kisses at your hot skin, your taste ever so sweet against his tongue. god, you must taste divine. at your jugular, he’s able to imprint your perfume into his mind. “only one way to find out.”

geto hums at that, relishing in the way you moan at a particular suck, and focus on nibbling at that spot once more. you’re tilting your head for easier access, hips grinding against his own for better friction. your hands are soft and cautious— they trail from his nape down to his chest, and further down to his waistband.

he’s on go, ready for whatever timing you’re on. though, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out by the way your fingertip traces right above his pelvis, that you’re both on the same page. he drags his lips from the column of your neck up to your jaw, and stops right above your parted lips.

he has another cocky remark on the tip of his tongue, in typical suguru fashion, but you beat him to the chase, glossy lips pressing against his. the kiss is short and definitely leaves him wanting more when you pull back as soon as you’d leaned in— but you’re a mere centimetre away.

you whisper, not before another kiss, “don’t disappoint me, suguru.”

and he’s never ran into bed so fast.

☆ ☆ ☆

the door slams shut.

he’s left with a painfully hard reminder in his sweats that he fucked up bad. he thinks he dissociated a little between the labia flapping to the coat zipping. it’s only when he notices that instead of hearing lip smacking sounds, he hears bryson tiller’s lame ass (no shade, his ego is simply wounded), that you really left.

fuck.

geto rushes back to his bedroom, the walk of shame up the steps enough to make him want to jump off— as he takes out his phone, immediately goes through his contact list and presses on the name. it rings twice before the call gets picked up.

“yooo!”

“you still busy?” geto asks, voice hoarse as he flops down on the edge of the bed— his now empty bed. damn.

“nah, just dropped off wifey,” gojo replies. he hears music playing faintly in the back, as well as the sounds of honking. he must still be in the car, “why, what’s up?”

“i fucked up.” geto sighs, running a hand over his face.

“oh?” he isn’t surprised to find out gojo’s surprised. he’s still surprised by how the events turned out and it’s barely been ten minutes, let alone five. “say no more, i’m on my way.”

geto hangs up. he throws the phone away, before falling flat onto his bed. he picks up your scent on his sheets, your warmth slowly disappearing— another painful reminder he messed up. where he’s expecting a wet patch of anything on his duvets, he finds nothing. zip. nada.

his eyes fall shut, “shit.”

☆ ☆ ☆

“and that’s pretty much the gist of it all.”

he exhales a cloud of smoke. more silence. geto’s starting to get sick of all this silence. it was radio silence with you and now even more radio silence from gojo. his hand never stops to rub at nanako, who’s been serving as a cuddling partner in this grand moment of crisis. the only person to ever have his back.

so, geto knew that confiding in his best friend this secret of his would be risky for a multitude of reasons. for starters, geto never fucks up. this would be ultimate blackmail content for him, and geto honestly doesn’t blame him. for two, he was just giving gojo shit about never having eaten pussy. that’s just downright humiliating. and for three, he has a girlfriend who he doesn’t keep anything from. on top of that— his girlfriend is friends with the main culprit here.

overall a bad idea. he does it nonetheless, because satoru is his best friend despite it all. he isn’t too shocked when the silence is filled with bellyaching laughter, though.

“wait— i’m cryinggg,” more laughter. gojo’s now kicked his feet off the couch and is doubling forward. his shades bounce off his head and hit the leg of the coffee table. he doesn’t pause his laughing fit one bit, not even when geto throws a throw pillow his way.

it bounces off his big head and geto scoffs, bringing the joint back to his lips, “oh fuck off.”

“my fault man,” gojo apologizes though he doesn’t sound apologetic. he’s leaning forward to grab his shades back, and he’s back to swiping stray tears. “that was a good laugh— shit.”

geto hums at that, extending the blunt towards him,“glad to hear my misery has brought you entertainment.”

“see, you get it!” gojo jokes, welcoming the joint. seems like he got cocky, however, his laughing mood not quite over as he inhales. he quickly chokes on the smoke, which fades back into cackling, “oh shit—”

geto sneers, annoyance quickly rising, “quit fucking around or pass it back.” he was being pissy, yes, but his pride had been curb stomped. and it hadn’t even been an hour ago!

“nah, nah, i’m good,” gojo waves him off, despite his free hand tapping at his chest. he collects himself soon enough, and takes another hit. this time it’s successful. geto lowkey hoped it would get caught in his throat again.

“sooo,” gojo drags out, melting into the couch, “what now.”

“what now?” geto parrots.

“what’s the next move?” gojo elaborates, fingertip tapping at the blunt, and ashes fall into the tray. the end of the stick crumbles in the same way geto’s ego had earlier. “you’re gonna keep letting her think you suck at giving head?”

geto throws his head back and sighs tiredly, “what else is there to do?” he hears the sound of sizzling in the background, “i fumbled bad, bro. you don’t think she already posted about me in her girls’ private story?” more sizzling and exhaling, “i’m the storytime of the day!”

he feels gojo nudge his thigh with his foot. he looks back and the joint is presented to him. he gladly accepts it.

“what even happened?” gojo wonders. and oh boy, if that isn’t the question of the day. geto is still trying to find the answer to that. had it been out of nervousness? had he gotten too cocky? had it been her?

“i honestly wish i could answer that,” geto slips the roach into his mouth. “i didn’t feel nervous until after i realized she wasn’t fazed,” he drags out a hit and ghost inhales, “maybe it was a sign from above— to shut the fuck up sometimes.”

“maybe,” gojo snorts, throwing his legs over geto’s lap. nanako hisses at the intrusion, but the white haired man ignores her, “don’t let yourself go out sad like this. hit her back up— whatever happened to loving challenges?”

“what kind of fucked up ass challenge is this?” geto mumbles, mainly to himself.

“if i was in your shoes— which i’d never be,” because he’s gojo, he feels the need to add, “i’d put my pride aside and talk to her. like no homo shit, but you’re a great eater— yeah, no, i’m taking that back instantly.”

geto looks as horrified as he feels, “quickly, even.”

of course, gojo laughs but proceeds, “the point is, you know you’re good at it. everybody fucks up once in a while— don’t let it define you though. think of it as a minor setback for a major comeback— if you care enough, you’ll put your pride aside and do something about it. if you’re this down about it, then it must mean something to you.”

geto can’t tell anymore whether gojo’s talking about the failed pussy eating attempt or you. regardless, he knows there’s truth to his words. has to be the weed talking.

“and who made you the pussy connoisseur?” geto snorts, pressing the bud of his joint in the tray. it sizzles weakly as he kills it, starting to feel that high course through his veins.

gojo sighs dreamily, “why my lovely lady, of course.”

“looks like she taught you well,” geto relaxes himself into the tight space of the couch, settling nanako on his chest. it’s now his turn to nudge gojo with his foot, his sock-cladded toe digging at his jaw. “woulda never expected this from a rookie just a few months ago.”

“well duh,” gojo swipes his foot away, “i aced that course. got my phD in cunningulusophy and all. even won valedictorian.”

geto laughs, resting his lids. he was starting to feel sleepy, indica will do that to you, “enroll me in whatever class you took— i may need to slut myself out for extra credit. my prof’s a tough nut to bust.”

“intro to munch 101,” gojo nods his head, shutting his eyes close as well. there’s a comfortable silence that fills the air for a while. and despite the fact that his sight manipulated, he could hear the smirk dripping off his tone, “if you ever need a letter of recommendation, i got you— alumni’s honour.”

“oh fuck off,” a mixed harmony of laughter and vibrating chests.

☆ ☆ ☆

fun fact: suguru geto loves showers.

the aroma of cleanliness enhanced by thick fog. the scorching water droplets trickling down his skin, the vulnerability of his nakedness inside these four walls. he strangely feels most at ease, most raw in this moment of solitude.

he’s able to gather himself too. there isn’t much to accomplish in a shower once you’ve gotten rid of the day’s dirt. so, he likes to take the opportunity to think. to think deep and hard.

his mind’s all scrambled up. it’s been about three days since you were last in his apartment, two days since he’d thought about it, and a day since he last seen you (granted it’d been on your story, virtually, but still).

this has been the biggest feat he’s faced in a while. if he recaps it, this is what’s he gotten: he invited you over. you came the next day. he didn’t cater to you the sole reason you came. you didn’t mind. you both studied for a bit. he asked about your cat. you ended up on his lap. he ended up in bed with you. you ended up leaving with a chunk of his dignity.

that didn’t explain shit, but it did remind him of his failure. it reminded him that he’d finally met his match. it reminded him he needs to start backing his shit up. it reminded him of how good you smelled and tasted down there. it reminded him of how pretty you looked.

his cock twitches and he glances down. it also reminds him he never ended up cumming, too engrossed in his anxiety to jerk one out.

he feels as though the glass doors of his shower protect him from reality. he’s hard, though mortified, but still hard. he’d spent a long time (two days) suppressing the memory away, but there was no way to mistaken your taste on his tongue. how sweet you smelled. how soft you felt—

geto fists at his dick before he can help it. his free hand plants at the wall before him, and he works his wrist. he twists at his shaft slowly and closes his eyes— behind his lids are photographic memories of you on his lap. memories of you on his bed. memories of the scent of your panties. memories of your tits in his mouth.

sure, you’d made more sounds off the foreplay for the foreplay— but that didn’t take away how turned on he’d been. how his dick twitched in his boxers. how he’d humped the mattress. how he’d moan in your cunt.

“y/n,” geto moans your name, sinful yet hushed, his hand working faster. his thumb grazes his over slit and his gut drowns in heat. he wants a redo. he deserves a redo— you deserved a redo. “fuckkkk,”

next time, he’ll get it right. and if he doesn’t, then he’ll want to try again and again and again— until it ends with your cunt clenching around his tongue and his face sprayed vigorously in your essence. until your thighs tremble around his face, your hand clawing at his hair and your back arched off his bed. until his name bounces off his walls and echoes so loudly his neighbours complain.

he wants a redo.

he jerks back as he paints the tiles white. the joints in his hand ache, the water from the shower head getting colder. geto pants heavily, chest heaving as his load is released from him. his cum drips from the wall and into the drain at his feet— but his dick is far from well spent. if he spends another hour in the shower, it’s nobody’s business but his own.

suguru geto loves showers.

☆ ☆ ☆

“oh. you actually showed.”

“redo,” geto pants, having sprinted from his apartment. he’d spent the next three days after his shower incident wallowing some more— at some point, it just annoyed him. though slightly underwhelming, he was on his phone in bed a few minutes ago, going through his camera roll when he’d seen that picture he took of you and nanako. his feet guided him to his car before he could help it. choso helped him out with the address.

“redo?” you parrot his words, leaning against your doorframe. you crossed your arms over your chest, and it’s only then he noticed your appearance— flimsy camisole and pink lace panties. fuck, he wants a redo now.

“i want a redo.” geto repeats, but is quickly hit with a gust of wind. he hadn’t brought a jacket with him in the midst of his impulse, and goosebumps were beginning to form at his skin. he shoots his shot, “you ever planning on letting me in?” talk about deja vu.

“dunno,” you play along, eyes narrowing. “maybe if you ask nicely.”

swallow your pride, he hears gojo somewhere in the back of his mind. he shakes that thought off quickly. this desperation had to be bigger than a pride issue— he was ready to get on his knees and beg her to let him in. pride? that had been drained to the sewers the second he busted all over his shower days ago.

“lemme in and i’ll make it up to you,” geto tries instead, taking a step closer, “please?”

that seemed to be the correct answer as you push open the door to your apartment further. you turn your back and geto lets himself drink up your backside— he hadn’t seen it last time but you had dimples sitting right above your perky ass. he watches your hips sway left and right, and even tilt your head back, a smirk etched on your face, “you comin’?”

you will be, “cute.” his lips twitch into a small smile, and closes the door behind him.

☆ ☆ ☆

fool him once? shame on him.

geto doesn’t allow himself to make the same mistakes twice. if one fuck up is enough to tear him down for a week straight then why the hell would he do it again?

you’re sprawled on your back, legs spread with enough space to fit his body in between. his hands plant on either side of your face, his bulge pushed up against your core. he feels your warmth through these layers of clothes, and he rolls his hips greedily, feeling himself already grow addicted. your chin is raised high, lids blown open as you stare at him all doe-eyed.

his brows pinch in the centre of his forehead. that faux look of innocence you’re offering is doing wonders to his dick. your tits sit beautifully beneath your top, arms back on him as you pull him in closer, and he lets himself fall prey to you. for a moment, the tip of his nose bumps into yours, lips ghosting over the other, hips colliding to meet yours.

“mhm, that’s it.” you let out a sigh, throwing your head back into your pillows. there’s an opening to your neck calling his name, and geto wastes no time to latch his lips there. he slips a hand beneath your tank top, fingernails grazing over your skin to creep up to your mounds. he flicks a thumb over the bud and you sigh blissfully again— he then cups the flesh.

he loves the way you squirm when he kisses down your body, “i got you, pretty,” stripped from your cami, his lips leave open mouthed marks all over your skin. from the column of your neck, to your breasts, down your torso and past your navel, “let me take care of you.” the lower he gets, the more intense your rawness reeks— and it’s a damned good smell.

he lands right above your clothed pelvis, and he inhales sharply. he won’t make the same mistake this time, he can feel it. there’s something lingering in the air, something indescribable— but he’s confident he won’t. because when he skips your cunt in favour to pamper your inner thighs, dragging his wet tongue all over erogenous zones, he spots dampening right where your clit would be.

bingo.

your hand cradles his hair, and the other props your body up by the elbow. he glances up at you, cock throbbing against your mattress. your beauty still renders him speechless— runs his throat dry and makes his tongue feel heavy. he doesn’t want to decipher what this means either, and decides to conclude he’s simply thirsty for you.

“suguru,” you call at him. he blinks and the hand in his hair snakes down his neck, and pushes him deeper. his nose nudges at your throbbing clit, and his tongue peeks out of his mouth to lick at the damp material before he can help it. two fingers hook at your panties and push them to the side, revealing glistening folds. your slick drips between your crack and stains your sheets. he thinks he hears his stomach growl a little.

another swipe of his tongue, this time in contact with the raw you, and a breathless moan rips from you, “don’t disappoint me this time.”

and he feasts.

☆ ☆ ☆

gojo’s woken up to a notification from his phone.

it’s still pretty late— or maybe early, and his pretty girlfriend is miles away in lalaland. she snores softly, cuddling into his side, and gojo’s ready to cuss out whoever dares potentially meddle with his girl’s sleep. he’s starting to get grumpy.

when his phone undergoes face recognition, he lowers the brightness immediately. he swipes through his notification center and notices an attachment sent by geto.

now that peeks his interest. he presses on the message.

suguboo: [1 attachment]

suguboo: passed intro2munch101 with an A+ 🫡

gojo can’t help the laugh that leaves him, though is quickly quieted down when he feels stirring at his side.

“well i’ll be damned.”

yes, gojo is obsessed with his girlfriend. also 10k words on geto???

[vaquerolvr]

Road trip! Reader is Passenger Princess (due to them giving their man a heart attack everytime they drive 😊)

i am Still Suffering on my road trip. god save me. i wrote this in my notes app while stuck in traffic for three hours. the formatting and spelling are in the hands of Our Merciful Lord (tumblr)

price

refuses to let anyone else drive unless he’s on the verge of passing out

(probably the only one you can trust to drive tbh)

does the dad thing where he’ll stick out his hand to get some of your snacks

hates stopping for any reason, wants to get to the destination as quickly as possible

when he does get forced to take a break, he’s very upset about it

backseat driver, stresses everyone out

(gaz is tempted to tape his mouth shut)

claims he “isn’t tired” and “can keep going” but is the first one to pass out when you stop at a hotel

gaz

passenger princess

if you try to get him to drive he’ll pretend to be sleepy

in charge of the music

(not because everyone likes his music but because he fought soap for the right)

hogs the phone charger

calls shotgun and will fistfight anyone he tries to take it from him

(he’ll let you have it if you want but he’ll be pouty about it)

ghost

another passenger princess (because no one trusts his driving)

the single time he’s allowed to drive, he nearly causes an accident ten minutes in

weakest bladder known to man

forces you to stop every hour

passes out after the first hour of driving

soap wakes him up when his snoring gets too loud and it causes another bout of smacking each other

takes photos of anything cool he spots on the road

(they all come out blurry but it’s the thought that counts)

soap

the only other one that price trusts to drive

decent driver, just has road rage at times

begs gaz to let him change the music (gaz always says no)

points out the scenery constantly

“look, there’s cows!”

collects souvenirs from every gas station you stop at

plays road trip games (i spy, slug bug/punch buggy/whatever you call it)

he and ghost get in trouble when it devolves into them just hitting each other

has a stash of snacks and drinks that he’ll share if you ask nicely

is awake and yapping the entire drive

(gaz actually does tape his mouth shut)

alejandro

the exact opposite of price

likes to take his time and relax

will somehow turn a 10 hour drive into 15 hours

wants to stop at every roadside attraction he sees

you have to keep reminding him that you have somewhere to be or he’ll get lost on a side quest

souvenir guy, buys magnets and keychains

has cds that he likes to listen to

very chill but you might get stressed if you’re on a deadline

is insistent on being the driver but gets traumatized when he runs over a squirrel

“ale, it wasn’t your fault. it was dark, you couldn’t see-“

“I’M A MURDERER”

rudy

probably the best person to plan a road trip with

isn’t a maniac like price but isn’t as laidback as alejandro

likes to listen to random radio stations as he drives

is really bad about speeding

regularly goes at least 15-20 over the speed limit but is lucky enough to never get pulled over

uses road trips as an excuse to only eat junk food then regrets it when his stomach starts hurting

needs a day or two to recover afterwards because his back hurts from sitting for so long

graves

scarily organized

has an itinerary and follows it to the letter

wouldn’t let you drive even if you begged

if he gets tired he’ll just get one of the shadows to take over

honestly, most of the trip consists of the shadows entertaining you with their antics while graves drives

one of them gets left behind at a gas station and you have to drive back half an hour to pick him up. graves is pissed

makarov

do NOT try to take this man on a road trip

if you mention it, he’ll have plane tickets booked before you can even blink

cannot handle long drives, the most he can manage is an hour before he starts getting annoyed

keegan

the most stressful but also the most entertaining

demands control of the music but plays the weirdest shit

not the best driver but not the worst

he won’t crash at least and he’ll only get pulled over a few times

says the most out of pocket shit to get a reaction from you

“how long do you think i can drive with my eyes closed?”

“KEEGAN NO-“

keegan has been banished to the passenger’s seat.

nikolai

another guy who is good at road trips

great driver, you can sleep the whole ride and he won’t gaf

it’s kind of terrifying. you’ll wake up from another nap to find him staring dead-eyed at the road as he drives

secretly shoplifts something from every place you stop at

doesn’t admit it until you accidentally find his stash hidden in one of the bags

“solnishko, you must understand. i need it.”

“you do not need a keychain of a frog with a cowboy hat, nik!”

nikolai is now wanted for theft in every US state (and several countries)

[moonshynecybin]

i thinkkkkk this one is gonna be part of something larger but here's the first part of a fic (2.8k so far) where the first chapter is literally just rosquez having a conversation in an airport set around jerez 2024… i also wanted to add some good ole marquez brother goof arounds:

“Look, if you’re just gonna make fun of me—”

“No, please! I wanna hear the rest of this,” Alex says, leaning into Marc’s space and raising his eyebrows, goofy. It makes Marc let out a big laugh— full and loud. He stretches against the plastic of the airport gate seating, the movement pulling at overtired muscles. It feels like they’ve been here forever.

It’s been a long journey back to Spain— storm delays and rerouting stranding them in the airport for hours. They’re still here waiting for a connecting flight, puttering away next to their gate and shooting the shit. It’s been a good weekend —a podium for him— but he’s tired, and ready to be home.

“No no no no, I’m done.” He settles into his seat, pushing Alex’s face away from him. Alex cackles, and Marc points at him. “But you should do that professionally!”

Alex pulls one of his mild, exasperated faces, and it makes Marc smile wider. They’re probably being too loud. Marc doesn’t care.

“You know,” Alex points out, dragging out the last syllable of know so it sounds like knowwwww, “You are the world’s absolute worst loser.” 

Marc shrugs. “It’s a good thing, too— in our line of work you have to be.” He’s unrepentant. It’s how he’s built.

He ignores the face that Alex is surely making and leans down to rummage through his carry on, looking for headphones. For sure, if he has to lose to anyone, he’d prefer it was Alex. With him, the nagging bite of loss usually manages to morph into something lighter, more fun, just because he knows Alex won’t ever blame him for how he gets, how involved he can be in winning. That doesn’t mean he enjoys losing—he’ll never enjoy that—but it takes it back to being a game. None of the anticipation of a sour aftermath that he’s faced in the past, the wait for the other foot to drop, and the play to slide towards resentment without him noticing.

“I doubt losing at a video game will help you gain a competitive edge on the track,” Alex asserts dryly, turning his attention back to his phone and tapping open the Kindle app. He’s been obsessed with those fantasy novels, lately. “You can’t win at everything.”

“Trust me, I know,” Marc laughs, rubbing at his arm. He needs to call his PT. Whatever. “But! I don’t think that first thing is true.” Banishing the thought from his head, he leans over to poke Alex in the arm. Alex swats at his hand, not looking up from his book, and Marc pokes him again, harder this time. “I have a winner mentality.”

“You have a loser mentality. You just lost.” Alex is staring at what Marc thinks is the table of contents.

“Semantics.” Another poke.

Alex looks up, incredulous. Victory. 

“You were cheating! And you still lost!” 

“But you don’t have any proof of that.”

And Alex shakes his head like he can’t believe him, laughs again. “You are insufferable.”

Marc grins and Alex sighs, scrubs a hand over his head.

“I’m going to go grab some water. Maybe eventually they’ll let us board this fucking plane. You want anything?”

Marc shakes his head.

“No, I’m good.” He ate earlier. He opens his phone back up, thumbs over his home screen. Nothing looks exciting. He hasn't been on instagram so much lately– avoiding comments.

He sighs and contemplates opening his dating app. He doesn’t.

Nothing’s felt— he’s busy. 

It’s always been too much— too complicated with his schedule, with travel, timezones, turning over battles in his head. Braking maneuvers and tire pressure edging out any relationship before it got off the ground properly. Lately, since his arm, and since Alex had told him to go find someone— it’s been nagging more.

But no one gets it. Not like he does. And he’s just never found someone that felt like they were worth all of the effort it would take, keeping a relationship together in a life like his, bending himself around racing. There’s been flashes, some false starts, but nothing has ever–

He hears a distracted chuckle behind his back, a light sound, happy, and it hooks him, hard. A sucker punch. He glances over, his previous train of thought abandoned.

It’s— 

He's heard that laugh before. 

They haven’t seen each other— properly, actually exchanging words— since last year. The end of the season. They were both in the bathroom at the Lights Out Gala. Marc in a tux, Vale in a flannel. Marc had held the door for Vale as he had left. 

Vale, once he’d registered his presence, had thrown him a thin lipped, restrained smile, and thanked him. Asked him vaguely about his surgery. Moved on.

And now he’s on the phone, a few feet away, and he probably hasn’t even seen Marc yet. Instead, he’s chattering lowly, head slightly tilted as he drags a thumb over the handle of his suitcase.

Marc has to wonder if stuff like this happens to other people.

Alex hasn’t left yet, but is about to. He's noticed, of course he noticed, and he tugs on Marc’s sleeve, voice low. “You need me to stay?”

Marc shrugs, shakes his head. He's been around Vale before, after everything, in close quarters even. It's fine. 

He's had a lot of practice.

Those last few years, before Vale retired, after Argentina—after Sepang, really, though he maybe hadn’t processed it yet— he worked on it a lot. On taking Vale off of the pedestal, making him more of a person. On realizing he was always going to have a different relationship to Vale than Vale would to him.

He works hard at that distance, enforcing it, maintaining it. Tending to it.

And he had gotten somewhere better, once he had realized that. Had stopped trying to say hi to him every time he saw him. Vale is his hero, and he knows by know that that’s never going to change completely. The precise way his presence lights Marc up, makes him giddy, the disbelieving undercurrent that Valentino Rossi knows his name— but he also has come to terms with the fact that it's never going to be like he imagined when he was twenty, and he thought maybe he could matter as much to Vale as he did to Marc.

He knows that.

But it was an adjustment. It took some time. It’s better now. He's used to it.

Now, he can sit at an airport gate with him and ignore him.

He’s probably been staring at his phone screen a little too hard. 

“Allora— so, how have you been?” A voice asks, simply, closer to his ear than it should be. Of course.

He puts the emphasis on you, the full force of him narrowed on the word. Marc stays very, forcibly still. Projects calm.

Vale’s across from him, now, got there without him noticing. His legs are spread out wide in the seat across from Marc, hat pulled low and posture easy. His face is neutral— pleasant. Marc knows that means absolutely nothing.

Vale’s gaze charts over him, carefully, taking him in. Marc swallows, steels his jaw.

Vale has always had a way of observing. Leveraging that beam of attention. He doesn’t miss a thing, never has, and he looks good— tired, but relaxed, thin frame bundled up in a hoodie, hat pulled low over his forehead. Incognito mode, Marc remembers him joking sometime in 2013, after they had snuck out of the paddock to grab a drink at a bar post media day. But you always dress like that, Marc had said, probably too confidently, and Vale had laughed, had leant in and said Well, if I want them to recognize me, I just wear the Yamaha shirt.

Marc blinks. Vale’s eyebrows are raised, expectantly. He’s been quiet too long.

“Why?” He asks pleasantly. No use pretending.

“How have you been?” Vale asks, evenly, continuing as if Marc didn’t talk. “It has been a few months, yes? Since we’ve seen each other? The gala?” He looks away, shrugging. “I wondered about your arm– it seems better.”

“You could have texted.” Marc says, furrowing his brow. He's being overly serious, he knows, but he’s curious. He didn’t expect Vale to text, knew he wouldn’t actually. It still, despite it all, prickled at him. Whenever he was injured, before, Vale would always ask. He hadn't, anytime in the last four years, despite the severity of the injury.

So why is he asking now.

Vale huffs a laugh, swipes a thumb over his phone case, waves it lazily. “My number, it ah, leaked.” He makes a face. “I had to get a new phone a while ago. I don't think your contact made it over.”

It’s better than him deleting it. Better than Marc expected, to be honest.

It could also be a lie.

“Oh. Well.” Marc, says, unsure how to continue. He smiles at Vale anyways, lifts his good shoulder, combing through his brain for what he actually wants Vale to know about his arm. Not lying, just slightly to the left of the truth. He doesn't want anything getting back to Pecco, but Vale can sense insincerity from a mile off.

“I can't complain. The last surgery, it helped.”

Vale’s eyebrows jump, making a little grimace. “I heard, it did not look very pleasant.”

The documentary, Marc thinks, Did he watch the fucking documentary?

“—Now it’s just the bike? Managing the new braking style?” Vale asks. Marc cannot fucking remember the last time Vale asked him two questions in a row.

“Ah, you know. Trade secret.” Vale’s team is also vying for the GP25 — best to keep as much as he can close to his chest.

Vale raises an eyebrow and Marc folds like a cheap stack of cards.

He sighs. nods. Who cares. Vale’s watched him ride for years, he knows Marc still has a little bit to improve on the year old Ducati. He’s seen the data.

“Now it’s just the getting the bike, nailing the setup.” He goes for the PR version of the truth. Nevermind that his arm is still in PT three times a week. The Ducati is good— Marc is having more fun. Fighting at the front. Adjusting easier than he thought he would.

But it’s not a Honda. He needs a bit more time, and he needs– he needs the factory spec. And it looks like Jorge Martin might be the one to get it.

Vale nods, neutral, like the conversation’s ending, like he’s being gracious with Marc’s answer, letting him keep his emotions close— and a sharp, unexplainable feeling digs into Marc’s chest, that same way it did when he was watching him from the seat over in whatever press conference, those first few years. He wants to keep Vale talking. Wants him to keep looking at Marc, wants to— Marc doesn’t quite know, exactly, but it feels a lot like he does on track, when he just can’t quite keep himself from reaching for the win.

He speaks. Vale’s gaze snaps back to him, head following after, a little lazier.

“You? How's endurance racing? Missing anything about MotoGP?”

He says like he doesn’t know. Like he doesn't keep tabs. Like people don’t ask him about Vale’s results.

Anyways, it's hard to be involved in MotoGP and not hear about Vale, even when he’s been retired going into three years now. People talk, always eager for Marc’s opinion on his great rival.

There’s a quirk at the corner of Vale’s mouth. Like he’s won something. Marc curls a fist tight, ignoring the feeling that he’s given information away.

“Some things.” Vale replies, an odd glimmer to him. His brow furrows, then: “I miss how it was around ten years ago, more.”

Marc blinks.

“— Getting old, I mean. It was not so fun, there at the end. I could see everything I wanted to do, every move I would've made on track, ” He sits down across from Marc, leans back in his seat, long torso bending with his lazy posture, the mood shifts and he laughs. “But I was too old! It was harder.”

Of course that’s what he meant. Marc doesn’t— he doesn’t miss Marc. doesn’t think about him much at all, probably. Wasn’t saying he missed how it was between them, ten years ago, when they were friends. Marc knows that.

“I'm getting up there, now.” Marc jokes, “Acosta, he is on the horizon.” He’s not sure it lands, but Vale huffs a laugh anyways, rubs at his eyebrow.

“You?” Vale asks, incredulous. That x-ray quality is back in his vision. He always— He used to always get Marc that way, when he would dial in and make Marc think the words he was saying mattered to him. 

Vale shakes his head, shimmies a shoulder, wags a finger. “No no no no, don’t try that– you are still young, you cant talk to me about old.”

Marc grins. He doesn’t feel it so much, now, the years between them, but it’s a nice reminder of how good it felt, being the up and comer on the scene. The next Valentino Rossi. That was fun.

But he’s older now, has been in the paddock longer than almost anyone, just like Vale had– and he can feel it, dragging at his arm. can see it, in the lines under his eyes, the unfamiliarity of the faces around him.

He wonders how Vale did it for so long. That slow decline— new people popping up every day, ones who learned from him, perfected ideas he pioneered, then using them against him. 

He remembers how he felt on the podium yesterday, and decides not to ask. He leans back.

“Ehhhh, you are not really that much older than me.”

Vale’s expression doesn’t change, still set at his default neutrally animated, but something charges in the air, and Marc gets the sense he wants to say something, toying with the edge of the cliff.

Marc searches for something that won’t rock the boat. He settles on a compliment.

“Pecco was good this weekend— He beat me. You trained him well.”

Vale’s shoulders slide down, relaxing minutely. The charge slips away. Success.

“Ah, he’s a lot better than he was when you showed up at the ranch ten years ago, yes.” 

Marc leans forwards, “Hey!” So much for avoiding fraught topics.

Vale tilts his chin, considering. “What did you say about him? I don’t think it was flattering–”

“—That was ten years ago! I’m wrong ONCE.”

“Once is enough!”

“Apparently.” Marc hits back. 

And it’s good— they’re laughing, Marc thinks, he’s laughing— but that last bit, the apparently, hangs there, snagging in Marc’s mind.

Once is enough. Apparently.

Vale’s smile dies slowly, once it’s clear Marc isn’t about to continue, and it’s odd. Not fraught, for once— though Marc hasn't been the best at recognizing when it was in the past, but he’s pretty sure here. The moment dangles for a second, as they sit across from each other in an airport looking at each other. Vale’s face is doing that thing it was earlier, where he seems to be on the verge of some moment, and his mouth opens. For some reason, Marc flushes hot on the back of his neck. His skin feels tight, and their eye contact holds.

“All good?” It’s Alex, coming back with his Smartwater.

Vale sits up straighter, immediately, posture snapping into place. He nods at Alex, who ignores him, and slides back into his seat. He shrugs at Marc, a little in-joke. What did I do? it asks, fully knowing the answer. Alex has never been as shy as Marc is about his feelings concerning Valentino Rossi. 

And it's that above anything that makes Marc feel like he’s dunked his head in ice water, reality crashing in. The moment snaps as Vale tucks back into himself, leaving Marc off his balance. He feels dizzy and a little off kilter, like he’s done something wrong, like he’s gotten away with something, something illicit, which is ridiculous — he’s just been sitting here.

Nothing’s even happened. They've been two meters away from each other the entire time.

They haven’t even touched.

Vale’s eyes are boring into him, blue and clear. Alert. And Marc catches a flash of— concern, maybe, his brow is creasing— and it tugs at Marc, makes him want to glance back and make him feel easy, lift the corner of his mouth, shrug his shoulders and dismiss Alex’s chilliness. Makes him hot and nervy, out of his skin with the need to do something he doesn’t have a name for.

He smiles.

Maybe he is doing something wrong.

Vale smiles back, and it’s brilliant.

The flight attendant comes over the PA. They’re boarding.

[ickyarson777]

Ooooh requests! I have one! I am dying for gamer boyfriend iii. Maybe playing games with him? Or just snuggling up with him, playing with his hair, while he slaughters digital zombies? XD Whatever you think!

GODS YES PLEASE

ahem anyway, of course love i can definitely do that for you! and thanks for the request! i hope it lives up to your expectations!!

content warnings: none!! just fluff and games today. tried to stay as gn with the reader as i could. only things used for them is 'love,' and 'lovely.'

notes before we start, this is about *not* about the actual people in the band, just the characters they’ve created on stage.

that being said, here you go! it's a bit short, wish it was longer but this was fun to write :)

Word count: 843

I curled up in bed, scrolling mindlessly through my phone, glancing every now and then at III, back facing me as he played his game. Since he’d downloaded Skyrim, he’d been playing it every chance he got. He talked a lot while playing, so I now had my own fair share of knowledge about the game.

“These damned draugr,” he’d mutter every now and then. “Fuck, dragon’s gonna eat my ass!” he’d groan as his character got snatched up. 

He was never one to scream angrily while playing, something I appreciated. He would, however, get very worked up, shaking me around and celebrating when he finally would pass a section of the game that was giving him trouble.

He’d lean over, ask if I saw how many times he’d died trying to pass that specific section, I’d tell him, laughing, ‘yes, I did see you die over and over, you sure you didn’t do it on purpose?’ He’d gasp in mock offense, ‘Seriously love? You think I’d willingly get fucked over by that shit over and over like that?’ then he’d lean in for a kiss, something to make up for the lack of focus on me, and get right back in. 

Tonight however, we played together. He’d recently bought a Nintendo Switch, and we’d spent the past couple nights staying up playing Mario Kart. We sat next to each other, leaning forward on our knees, deeply focused on the race. I’d hit him with a shell, he’d throw a banana peel. Each time I overtook him, or vice versa, the other would cry out in both frustration, laughter, or an attempt to rile the other up. Eventually after we’d played for a few hours, we’d lose count of the score and take a break to go get some snacks from the kitchen. After making our way back to the room, arms full of snacks and drinks, we’d lay back in the bed and he’d talk my ears off about anything and everything he could think of. 

“There’s a new Zelda game that came out, a sequel to Breath of the Wild! Supposed to have two whole new maps and shit,” he’d tell me, running his fingers through his long hair. “Can’t wait to play it.” 

I smile at him and yawn softly. 

“Getting tired, love? Or tired of losing Mario Kart,” he said with a stupid smirk. 

I scoff at his question, “You’d like to think I was losing wouldn’t you?”

He chuckles at me, “Of course I think that, ‘cause it's the truth.”

“Whatever,” I say , rolling my eyes. I lean back in the bed and slip under the covers. “Think I’m done for the night.”

He sighs dramatically, “Guess we’ll have to settle our score tomorrow then.”

“Mhmm,” I hum in agreement. I watch him as he picks the controller up again, and closes the game. He turns the tv down a bit, and opens Skyrim again. I watch through eyes fluttering, trying to stay awake a bit longer as he begins his in-game trek across the map, trying to reach new locations, every now and then stopping to fight some monster, creature or enemy in his path. Carefully, I nudge him with my foot and he glances back at me. 

“What’s up, love?” he asks.

I hold my arms out to him, wanting to cuddle up to him. He smiles at my gesture and crawls across the bed, leaning back against me, head on my chest, still facing the screen. I kiss the top of his head, and run my fingers through his hair, and listen to him talk. He’s always so loud, but now he mutters queitly to himself, perhaps trying to mind my tiredness, perhaps feeling his own tiredness start to take over. 

“Love you,” I murmur sleepily into his mess of red hair. 

“Love you too, lovely,” he mutters and then exclaims loudly, “Motherfucking dragons!”

“III,” I groan, having been snapped out of my almost sleep. 

He chuckles, “Sorry love.”

I smile, taking strands of his hair and braiding them carefully. “It’s ok,” I tell him. “What are you doing in the game?”

And then it begins again, his nonstop talk about the game. Eventually his accent gets thicker with sleep creeping into his voice, and I have no idea what he’s saying anymore. I drift off into my own slumber.

At some point, he’s gotten off the game and shifted to lie next to me, because the next morning, I wake up to him, arms lazily wrapped around me, mouth hanging wide open, soft snores excaping his mouth. I smile at his goofy expression, his messy hair tangles and spread over his pillow, over his face. The quiet moments with III are rare. Odd but not uncomfortable. 

I curl up next to him, and drift off to sleep again, knowing the moment we both wake up, its back to the games again.

‘Gonna need my rest if I’m gonna beat his ass at Mario Kart,’ is the last thing I think before drifting off again. 

---

how do you end stuff like this :')

anyway pls y'all give me more

[badasmuse]

“Attitude”

Bada Lee x Reader

Warnings: 18+ (MDNI), language, lowercase intended, bottom!bada, brat!bada, use of toys, orgasm denial, overstimulation, mommy kink

Summary: baby girl bada is being a big brat after being woken up early and there’s only one thing you can do to change it.

Dedicated to @waveartistry

i understand waking up early is not ideal. totally get it. but when you’re asked to wake someone up early? and for that person to have an attitude the entire fucking day? she’s so fucking lucky we’ve been out in public the past three hours.

“y/n i don’t want to go here.” bada whines stomping her foot.

“bada you’ve been complaining since you got here. i understand you’re probably still tired but knock it the fuck off.” i say. i’m not trying to be an ass but fuck.

“i don’t even know why we came here.” she says walking into the store.

“do you not recall you telling me ‘baby i need you to wake me up early cause i have a lot of shit to do to prepare for the following day’ do you not remember that?” i say, practically on her heels. she’s quiet for a moment.

“whatever.”

i love my girlfriend i promise i do. but when she does this shit? sometimes i want to choke her. then again she’d like it so who wins? not me that’s fasho.

“we only have one more after this.” i say picking up an item that she dropped.

“i guess.” she rolls her eyes.

i sigh and step in front of her grabbing her shirt and pulling her down eye level, “bada lee. please lose the fucking attitude.” i warn. she swallows, breaking eye contact but doesn’t say anything.

about an hour goes by and there’s no more smart remarks from my lovely girlfriend.

until we get home.

she brings all her bags inside and drops them by the door before kicking her shoes off and going to the kitchen.

“bada come put these away.” i say moving them out the way.

“i just got in here give me a minute.”

“oh that attitude is back?” i ask walking into the kitchen. “bada don’t play with me. i’ll make you regret every smartass remark you made today.”

“whatever y/n i’m tired and you’re making my attitude worse. if you’d leave me alone maybe i’d be better.” she says brushing past me.

leave her alone? bet.

———

“baby what should we get for dinner?” bada asked me coming out of the room.

i yawn in response pretending she’s not there.

“baby? do you have headphones in?” she peeks around and pouts when she sees there’s nothing that could be blocking out her voice from my ears. “y/n why aren’t you talking to me?”

i just get up and walk into the room shutting the door.

about thirty minutes later i hear her walking towards the door. she opens it and sits on the bed. “y/n? are you sleep?”

i don’t respond, turning up the tv a little louder. she snatched the remote turning the tv off completely. “y/n hello? i’m right here. why are you acting like this?”

i sigh and get out of bed, going to the living room instead and pulling out my phone to play a game. you wanted me to leave you alone? this is what you’re getting.

twenty minutes later, she comes out with tears in her eyes. “baby why aren’t you talking to me?” she whines stomping her foot. big ass brat.

“you wanted to be left alone.” i reply.

she grabs my phone from my hands and tosses it to the side. “why are you being so mean?”

i stood up, i’m not that tall but boy does my dominant personality make me feel like i’m six foot seven. “bada you’ve had an attitude all fucking day. smart ass remarks, leaving your shit everywhere, whining like a brat, and tossing my phone? let’s go.”

“w-where?” she stutters.

i don’t reply. i grab her and start pulling her back towards our room, immediately pushing her the bed. i go to the closet and look through our box of toys wondering what i want to use on her now.

“y-y/n?” she says just above a whisper.

“strip.” i don’t look at her. i know she’s not moving cause i don’t hear her or the bed. “bada honey don’t make me repeat myself.” i smile as i hear her finally move on the bed. finding the perfect toy (her least favorite) i make my way back to the bed where she’s kneeling in the center.

“good job. i didn’t even have to tell you what to do.” i approach her and lightly touch her face. “my pretty girl. that attitude isn’t pretty. lay back.” she listens. “you touch yourself and you won’t cum.” i peck her forehead and spread her legs putting the toy in her, lining up the little vibrating part to her clit and turning it on.

“no wait i h-hate this one.” she moans out.

“i know honey.” i grab a chair and sit next to the bed but facing her. i rid myself of my clothes and sigh touching myself. she hates when i do this. i remember the first time i did this to her.

“it’s not fair.” she cried out. “i wanna touch you.” tears fell from her eyes.

“you should’ve thought about that before you started acting up.”

“mommy please…” she begged.

i smirk at the memory.

“oh… shit i’m gonna cum.” she moans out. i grab the remote to the toy turning it off and she cries out.

“this is a punishment. i’m gonna edge you until i cum then we’ll see if you deserve it.” i wait for her breathing to calm down before turning the toy back on.

i move my fingers on my clit before putting two in. maybe i should let her get me off… nah she don’t deserve it. i let out a small moan as i curl my fingers up hitting my spot. “fuck.” i breathe out.

her whines start to get louder and i turn the toy off.

“please please it’s not fair.”

“no what’s not fair is- fuck- you giving me attitude all f-fucking day after you told me to wake you up early. not only me but the cashiers at every place we went. do you know how annoying it is having to apologize to everyone because my girlfriend is being an asshat?”

“i’m sorry. i’m sorry i’m sorry please i wanna cum.” she cries a tear falling.

“too fucking bad.”

i turn the setting up higher and she lets out a scream. i’ll have to apologize to our neighbors later. she grips the sheets tightly and i turn it off again.

“how are you not close?”

“oh i am but you know i can keep my orgasm at bay until i feel like letting go.” i laugh turning the toy back on.

“please i’m so sorry i won’t do it again i won’t i won’t.” my poor baby. she’s so apologetic.

oh well.

“yes you will. you’ll do it over and over again. you won’t learn. you’re a brat by nature. oh shit.” i bite down on my lip and move my fingers faster.

i stop and climb over her sitting in her lap and moaning as i feel the vibrations on my clit as well. i stick my fingers in her mouth and she moans around them.

“i’m close…” she mumbles around my fingers. i turn the toy off sighing cause i was close too but i can make myself cum at anytime.

“FUCK.” she yells, “stop fucking doing that let me cum.”

my hand goes right to her neck, applying light pressure and pulling her face close to mine. “bada. who the fuck do you think you’re talking to?”

“i-i’m sorry,” she stutters out tears in her eyes, “please let me cum mommy, i’ll be a good girl i promise.”

“you’re so cute when you beg for it.” i turn the toy back on and put my fingers back in her mouth. she swirls her tongue around them, moaning softly as she grips my thigh.

the vibrations are too much for me and i end up cumming. i move so i can’t feel them anymore and she whines.

“cum for me bada.” i whisper in her ear. she grabs my arm and holds onto it as she cums moaning loudly, my fingers still in her mouth. i climb off her and lay on the bed.

“i-i’m sensitive. please, please turn it off.” she begs.

“honey the punishment is far from over.”

she lets out a whine as i turn the toy to the highest setting.

it’s not like she’ll learn from this but that’s what makes it fun.

[amoeganism]

TALKING TO MY GHOST AT NIGHT reo

theres a ghost in the blue lock facility, reo and bachira are sure of it. they also aren't the most reliable sources out there but it was funny, nagi can humor them for a little longer if it means reo will finally get a partner and set him free ( wc : 2.1k+ )

warnings : crack, angst if u blink slowly, reader is a slut for money and so am i, reo is into some weird shit but it's ok they're into each other i promise

“Yo! Yo! Sei-shi-ro!” Bachira called out, once again with glittering stars in his eyes as Reo’s face pales every passing second. “You will never guess what Reo and I found!”

“Nagi, there’s a ghost,” Bachira’s accomplice muttered. “We saw them when we went to eat dinner.”

“You guys are delusional,” the white-haired boy sweatdropped, were they getting enough sleep? Probably not. Ego was absolutely insane and for the first few days Nagi was in the Blue Lock facility, he swore he was losing his five senses ( he was better when he got his phone back but that’s not important ^ _ – ). “Are you guys sure it wasn’t a janitor or cook?”

“We swear!” The dumbass duo retaliated, each one taking hold of one of Nagi’s arms. “They looked like they were our age and they even had the same really ugly dark circles and eyebags as you! There’s no other explanation.”

Nagi was too tired for this shit he just wanted to lie in bed and play mobile games like an elementary school kid. “Well, leave me out of this you guys can get haunted for all I care.”

“What the fuck, Nagi?! Even after all we’ve been through? I’m like the second coming of Jesus to you! I introduced you to the art of playing with balls!” Maybe he could have worded that better but Reo was too deep in the blistering sorrow of betrayal to care about his relationship with the Japanese language.

“Yeah! Listen to Reo! You’re one of us and plus, you and the ghost look equally exhausted so that means you should be the one to talk to them!” Bachira innocently giggled as if he didn’t just set Nagi up for a demonic ritual or whatever the fuck they were planning.

“Can we at least wait until tomorrow?” Nagi whined, his eyelids felt heavy and there was too much stupidity in the room for his brain to handle in a day. His brain was swelling and any more that came out of Bachira or Reo’s mouth would cause it to explode and somehow, his batshit insane rivals teammates will find a way to bring him back to life ( maybe even with the ghost ) and beat the shit out of him for abandoning them ( Reo ).

—

It was getting late and most of the Egoists had gone to their rooms to do whatever was on their schedule next. The reasonable ones went to rest, the weird ones went to train, and then there was the demon named Rin Itoshi who went to follow his yoga routine. Ew, that name sent shivers down Nagi’s spine. He wants to see that guy trip and fall on his ass sometime, that’d be pretty funny, he thinks. It would be even better if his brother did the same. But for Nagi, instead of playing his first-person shooters like how he would like to, the boy was being shushed by Meguru Bachira who was accompanied by an oddly serious looking Reo Mikage.

“Ghost… ghost…” Reo began making different “oOOOoO” noises to mimic ghost sounds from a badly produced Halloween movie. “We come in peace. We don’t plan to hurt you.”

“Yeah! We’re totally cool, you should hang out with us! Look! We even have some random dude who’s like the same breed of human as you! Er… as you were.”

“Bachira I didn’t agree on being a human sacrifice,” Nagi tried saying, but was quickly cut off.

“Shhh! You’re gonna scare it away! No one cares~!”

“Are you mentally well?”

Bachira and Reo let out loud ear-shattering screams, each going straight into Nagi’s head and giving him the most painful migraine he’s ever experienced, so painful that he almost did not realize it was an unfamiliar voice talking to Bachira instead of one of their own. Looking up at whoever it was, it happened to be another teenager who looked relatively normal with no seemingly ghostly features at all.

“Aren’t you guys soccer players? What the fuck are you doing out here ghost hunting?”

“Wait so you aren’t a ghost?” Bachira tilted his head and asked, his eyes blank in confusion while Reo looked like he was short-circuiting.

“No…?” You replied, pinching your skin. “I’m like ninety-nine percent sure I’m alive and well. You guys are hallucinating or something if you think I’m a ghost.”

“T-then why are you here?!” Reo pointed at you and demanded, suddenly thinking you were some intruder or hitman that was hired by one of his family’s rival companies, out to kill him while he happens to be away from home.

“‘Cause I’m that freak Jinpachi’s cousin. I need volunteer hours to graduate so I came here and honestly, I regret it. Nepotism sucks—well, at least this kind. I should’ve been born as some major actor’s kid.”

“Woah! So you aren’t here to kill me, that’s great!” Reo beamed, suddenly very giddy that a cute intern the same age as him would not be an absolute danger to his well-being. It had been years since he felt this electricity in his chest, the last time being when he met Nagi, who had been stuck with him ever since that day on. The purple-haired boy was unsure of whether the pleasure he felt from meeting you was due to a new challenge, or the fact he was genuinely interested in you. After all, he thought you were a ghost the first time he saw you.

“What—huh?! Why would I kill you? What kind of unresolved trauma do you have? Was this Jinpachi’s fault? That man is fucked in the head but he has money so don’t tell anyone about it until he dies and I get all his inheritance, ‘kay?”

Nagi did not know if you morbid words went one of Reo’s ears and out the other or if Reo was weirdly into whatever fantasies you had. Rich people. Bachira, though, was giggling like a devious troll, making squelching kissy noises in Reo’s ear as you went on and on about your plan to save yourself from the world of middle-class living and kick your cousin out of the economic elites so that you could replace him, knowing damn well that Ego could hear you.

And, he did.

A large television screen mounted to the front wall of the Blue Lock Facility cafeteria turned on almost immediately after you stopped talking, displaying a far from happy Jinpachi Ego in all of his bowl-cut glory. The man’s permanent frown was even more of a frown than what Nagi thought was humanly possible, another ew in his book. Man, his coach was depressingly ugly.

Jinpachi Ego was a tired man whose tiredness plummeted into exhaustion every time he had to interact with his hellspawn of a cousin, you. “[name], cut it out and get to cleaning. You aren’t going to get any credits or paychecks if you continue standing there wasting all our time telling people your empty plans of ‘plotting my downfall’,” Ego spoke with his monotone voice, making faux quotes with his hands.

“Oh, shut up old man. You’re literally decaying compared to me. Get to bed, grandpa,” You restored, visibly pissed off but immediately switching your facial expression to a cheery one like a lightswitch as you bid goodbye to the three teenage boys before you and running off to “beat that bowl-cut’s ass”, as you put it.

“Dude, you look like you just met an angel and fell in love!” Bachira laughed in Reo’s face, doubling over and rolling on the floor.

“I think… that’s because I just did,” Reo mumbled, awe still on his face as he blankly stared at the television screen Ego was just on.

—

Once again, Nagi just wanted to go to bed but had his plans interrupted by a very desperate Reo Mikage.

“Come on! Nagi, you just don’t get it. They’re my soulmate, I’m sure of it!”

“Why can't you go alone? Why do you have to drag me into you trying to ask them out? Aren't I just gonna be in the way?”

“Nagi,” Reo whined, pathetically dragging out his name. “I need you there for moral support. I'll piss myself otherwise, you know that.”

“Yeah, and I’ll be sure to laugh at you too when they reject you.”

“I'm gonna punch you.”

“Whatever, just this once, you hear me?”

“Aye, aye, captain!” Reo saluted his closest friend, skipping to the cafeteria to find you. To be honest, he was unsure of whether or not you’d be there but considering the fact you’ve been cleaning the cafeteria at the same times for two days in a row, Reo thought he had a pretty good chance. But of course, luck wouldn't always be on the side of the rich and famous.

Nagi and Reo walked into the large, open room only to find the lights completely out, without a single sound echoing throughout the cold. An eerie feeling took over the previous excitement that Reo felt that evening, accompanying it with a chill down both of their spines.

“They aren't here, let's go back,” Nagi urged. He would never admit it to anyone's face, but the cafeteria was starting to give him the creeps. “Bring Bachira with you next time, he’d be over the moon to help you.”

“No! Wait! This place is creepy as fuck but we haven't even looked yet! Let me just turn on the lights—”

“See? You should be more like your friend here. Why are you in such a hurry to leave? I don't bite!” A voice popped out from right behind Nagi, causing him to physically jump into the air and trip over and onto his knees before violently whipping around, coming face to face with you manically cackling at his reaction. “Man, you're easy to scare!”

“Hi! You're er— [name], right? That's what Ego called you last night,” Reo greeted, “I'm Reo Mikage.”

“Yeah,” Nagi chimed in from on the floor. “He's Reo Mikage.” Reo really wished he followed through with punching Nagi in the face. “He's the heir of the Mikage Corp.”

“Mikage… Mikage… Mikage…” You muttered, trying to remember why that name sounded so oddly familiar to you. Is it the name of a restaurant you went to? No, he said ‘Corp’, that wouldn't make any sense.

“That means he's super rich by the way,” Nagi added one last time before ditching his awestruck friend in the otherwise empty cafeteria that he doubted anyone would go to anytime soon; it was almost nine in the evening.

“Oh my God, you're rich?” You gushed, suddenly very interested in what Reo had to say for himself—well, even more interested. It was like a dream for you; some really pretty dude coming in looking for you specifically, ignoring the part where he thought you were a ghost, of course. But having this same pretty boy turn out to be a super mega rich heir and also be super mega athletic? Jackpot. You won in life. It's God’s apology for making you be related to that bastard Jinpachi Ego. This is your main character moment and you will make sure that boy will be yours before any other trashy gold digger other than you picks him up and takes him away. “That's like, the hottest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“That's not the only thing you're after, right?” Reo cautiously asked. It slightly hurt knowing that you might not actually be interested in him, but only after his wallet instead. It wouldn't be the first time that's happened, but it would be the first time it's happened with someone he was genuinely interested in.

“No, no! Of course not! You're pretty funny and well uh, really cute so even if you were broke I’d shoot my shot.”

If you spoke any more, Reo thought that his cheeks would fucking burst from how hot they felt and he was more than sure his face was a burning crimson red. It was suddenly as hot as a midsummer's day with the sun shining right above his brushed, violet hair, causing his entire body to sweat. “Holy shit I could marry you right now.”

“Hell yeah, let's get married, Reo!” You exclaimed with the same ecstatic eagerness as the boy whose hands you were grabbing onto while jumping up and down.

“[name], get to cleaning. You are not getting married anytime soon.” Before you could start making up your vows on the spot, a shart voice cut through the moment with the click of a button as the television in the cafeteria turned on once again, displaying a displeased, disturbed, and beyond annoyed Jinpachi Ego who was most definitely not pissed off because he can't get himself a partner like how his cousin can.

[decks-writing-blog]

I Think I'm Sick Chapter 2/2 Our Best Option

Chapter One

~

Back in the game room the TV was still on. The commercials were at least over, not that the cartoon playing instead held much more interest. But Benrey was too in and out of sleep to play much more than the simplest game and the PS3 controllers needed charging anyway so cartoons it was for a little while.

Instead of lying back down with the heated blanket as he’d been before, he sat with Gordon. At first just leaning into him but that wasn’t enough and he shifted to sit in his lap instead, slouched enough that his head rested against Gordon’s chest. The sound of his breath and heartbeat was soothing. Not that Benrey needed help drifting off again. He was just so tired all the time. It wasn’t fair. Sleep was nice sometimes but it was boring to do so much. And if he was going to die for good soon, he didn’t want to spend most of his limited time sleeping.

Before he could finish drifting off even despite his annoyance with doing so, his phone chimed in his pocket. With great effort, he forced open his eyes and reached to pull it out. It felt almost like he was moving through deep water, making it more difficult than it needed to be but he managed.

It was worth it too because the text was from Bubby. ‘I know what’s wrong with you. Maybe. I have a theory. We’re coming over.’ Not an opening to a fun conversation as Benrey had hoped but maybe something better.

“Who is it?” Gordon asked.

His head too foggy to try to summarize, Benrey held up the phone where Gordon could read it.

“Oh, already? I guess that’s not too surprising coming from him. You wanna head out to the living room to meet them or you wanna stay here and wait?”

“Wait.” They had keys and thus could let themselves in. Just sitting and waiting sucked but he didn’t want to get up yet, he was comfy.

~

With how close everyone lived, the wait was only a few minutes. Long enough that Benrey fell asleep again despite his best efforts not to but not deep enough to not be roused by Coomer’s, “Hello Gordon!”

“Yes, hello Dr. Coomer and Bubby and Tommy.” Gordon spoke not much louder than a whisper. “Benrey’s asleep so…”

“Wake him up then,” Bubby interrupted. “I gotta ask him something.”

Before Gordon could try to argue, Benrey shifted and sat up a little more, forcing open his eyes as he did so. He could get off Gordon’s lap too but didn’t particularly care to. “I’m awake.”

Bubby had stepped up to stand directly in front of them, Coomer and Tommy a bit too his side. The TV was still on behind him but Gordon picked up the remote off the couch’s armrest and muted it.

“Good,” Bubby said with a slight nod. “On the phone, Gordon said something about you saying all your powers are fucked up. Is that true?”

Damn. Turns out Benrey had to talk about it anyway. “I think so. Um, I can’t phase through stuff and my sweet voice isn’t very sweet anymore and uh… other stuff. Nothing works like its supposed to. So yeah, probably all my powers are fucked.”

“You can’t heal either?” Tommy asked. “Like if you get cut or shot or something.”

“Uh… dunno. We could test it.”

“Let’s not,” Gordon interrupted before Benrey could ask if anyone had a knife to test it with. “If you can’t heal from whatever’s making you sick, it’s probably safe to assume you can’t heal from physical injuries either.” A good point.

“And on top of all that you’re extremely low on energy, right? You’ve been sleeping more and more every day for like the past week.” Bubby’s tone was the one he used when he was being smart, implying he was onto something with whatever his theory was. What it could possibly be was a mystery. Benrey was sick, they already knew that. All that Bubby had learned was that it was also affecting his powers.

“Yeah. It sucks. I’m tired of sleeping but uh… too tired not to.” Exhaustion dragged at him like a lead weight trying to pull him underwater.

“Ah,” Coomer said apparently getting whatever Bubby had figured out. “It’s not dissimilar to when my power cells run out; I get tired and none of my implants work the way they’re supposed to. So I believe I know what you’re getting at, Bubby. I’ll let you say it of course since you did figure it out first.”

“You’re sick because you’ve been away from Xen stuff too long.”

“What that does that…” Gordon started before trailing off as something seemed to click with him too. “I guess that is possible, huh? How did I not think of that before?”

“You were uh… probably being too anxious to think clearly,” Tommy answered. “I know I can’t think straight when I’m uh… anxious about stuff too. Being worried make its hard to figure things out.”

“I don’t get it.” Maybe if Benrey weren’t so tired and distracted by the deep ache of something being wrong with his entire form, he could figure out why exactly not having been to Xen in so long was making him like this. He’d only been there once.

“You’re literally made from Xen stuff,” Gordon explained. “And you spent your whole life in a lab with multiple portals to Xen and people going through them all the time. Then when you actually went there yourself, you got a big boost in power or whatever that was.”

“Something in the air there is what fuels you,” Coomer cut in. “You’re like a battery and can store it but you’re running out now. Hence your current state.”

“Huh? I’m a battery.” Benrey had never thought of it like that but it made sense. He could store power in things which implied he stored power in himself. “That’s kinda cool.”

“Probably you’ll die if this continues for much longer,” Bubby said. “So we need to figure out a way to open a portal to Xen sooner rather than later. Anyone got any ideas?”

The silence held, heavy and uncomfortable, for several seconds before Gordon broke it. “The uh… the thing. The way we got there before. It’s dismantled currently so the construction workers rebuilding the broken parts of the old facility won’t see it. But it was never broken and we got all the parts in boxes at the temporary lab with all the other sensitive stuff.”

“It’s big though. Where you gonna build it?” Benrey had been to the temporary lab a few times now. It was far too small for a machine that size.

“Uh… well the only place we’ll be allowed to put it back up is the old facility. And that’s probably also the safest place for it to keep it from people and in case something comes out of it. The old facility’s not done being fixed yet but… I could maybe convince Breen to okay putting it back up anyway. It’d be hard though with the construction workers there.”

“Regardless of where we do it, rebuilding it is going to take weeks at a minimum,” Coomer said. “Probably more like months. It took weeks to pull down after all, putting it back up will take at least as long if we’re being optimistic. Do we have weeks or months?” He addressed this to Benrey.

“I uh… dunno. I started feeling bad a few weeks ago but it started affecting my powers or whatever like a week ago so… it got bad kinda fast. It gets worse every day like um… noticeably.” Heck, it felt worse now than when he’d woken up. It hurt more but even with that, he could easily fall back asleep right now if he let himself. How much longer before he couldn’t even hold his shape anymore? Then from there how much longer before he fell asleep and never woke up?

“Yeah,” Gordon said. “He uh… deteriorated rather quickly. I’m pretty sure he spent more time asleep today than awake. So even just a couple more weeks would be… a rough wait.”

Benrey was going to die, wasn’t he? Not just a maybe he’d realized a little while ago after hearing Gordon voice the possibility, but almost for sure. He didn’t want to die for good in general but especially not like this; wasting away, asleep for more of his dwindling life than not.

Gordon was likely having the same, if not similar, thought process as his grip on Benrey tightened. Pulling him closer as he curled slightly around him. “There’s… there’s gotta be something we can do, right? Maybe make a small one somehow? I mean we can’t just…” He trailed off.

Tommy raised a hand as he stepped forward. “I can… I can open a portal to Xen.”

Oh! How could Benrey have forgotten about his buddy, Tommy? Granted he hadn’t known Tommy could open a portal to Xen but it made sense that he could because he was Tommy. Everything would be fine… hopefully.

Gordon relaxed too, letting out a relieved almost chuckle. “Oh of course. I forgot your dad is some kind of… whatever he is.” He shifted his hold on Benrey, getting ready to stand up with him. “That’s great though. Awesome. Do it now. The sooner, the better, right?”

“Um… I should mention that it’s uh… kinda dangerous. I’m not as skilled as my dad is at that kind of stuff. Particularity the being sneaky part. There are things out there that could uh… they could notice me opening the portal and um… that would be bad. Like real, real bad.”

“End of the world kind of bad?” Bubby asked.

“Yes.”

“Damn.”

“Yeah. We should maybe ask Dad instead.”

“How likely is he to say ‘yes’?” Gordon asked. According to what Benrey had heard of the guy, it was unlikely.

“He… he might. But if he does he wouldn’t do it for nothing, even for me. He rarely does things to be nice because he’s not nice. Another option though is I could put Benrey in stasis while we work on building the thing. Human made portals to Xen are also a risk but much lower. The uh… problem with that one is I’m not… I’m not sure that he wouldn’t continue to drain power even in stasis. Dad’s time freeze didn’t work on him so… I don’t know if his current state would change that or not. And uh, I’m also not as good at that as he is too. He has a lot more experience with this kind of stuff than me.

“You’re a baby time god,” Benrey said.

“Um… ‘god’ isn’t the right word. You need worshipers to be a god, I think. Compared to Dad, ‘baby’ probably is a good word though. I’m only thirty-eight and he’s like… I don’t, several hundred years at least. I’ll try a portal or stasis for you though. I just wanted to go over all our options because it’s important to weigh the risks.”

Benrey wasn’t surprised. Of course Tommy would employ his powers for him even with the risks, they were pals after all. But it still felt nice to hear him say it.

“So,” Coomer said as he lifted a hand to count on his fingers, “our options are ask Tommy’s Dad and ensure safe passage to and from Xen but we owe him a favor. Tommy opens a portal to Xen and we risk the end of the world. Or Tommy puts Benrey in stasis and we build a portal ourselves but we risk the stasis not being as complete as we hope.”

“No particularly good options,” Bubby said with a frown as he crossed his arms. “What do you think, Benrey? It’s your life at stake.”

“Uh… I don’t wanna go in stasis.” Based off of what Benrey knew of how such things were portrayed in science fiction, stasis was too close to death to be a comfortable idea. And he’d just developed a fear of death less than an hour ago. It was way too soon to confront it. He’d like his powers back so that fear could go away already.

“No stasis then,” Gordon said with a comforting finality. “How bad would owing your dad a favor be, Tommy?”

“I don’t know. He doesn’t talk to me much about the people who owe him stuff. I just know he has people who do.”

Apparently having reached a decision, Gordon stood, bringing Benrey with him. Unfortunately he didn’t keep holding but instead, carefully put him back on the couch. At the end of it so he could face everyone but he still would’ve preferred Gordon keep holding him. But whatever, it was a bit awkward to have a group conversation while cuddling anyway.

Straightening, Gordon stepped back to address the group. “I’ll do it. It’s our best option. Benrey doesn’t want to go into stasis and if you opening it risks getting noticed by potentially world ending entities, we probably shouldn’t if we don’t have to. So… owing Tommy’s dad a favor it is. I can handle that.”

Despite all the unknowns of it, he was volunteering. No hesitation either. And it was for Benrey.

“We’ll do it, dumbass,” Bubby said. “Or did you forget he has more people who care about him than just you?”

“The Science Team can stand up to anything Mr. Coolatta tasks us with,” Coomer added. “You’ll be right as rain in no time, Benrey.”

Tommy perked up. “Yeah, don’t fuck with the Science Team. We can handle anything even… even my dad. I’ll go talk to him then. Be right back.” He turned and left the room, closing the door behind him.

Benrey should say something, shouldn’t he? What though? He was so tired and the whiplash of learning to fear permanent death to all of them proudly stating they’d be willing to be indebted to a time god for him was a lot. More than he know how to deal with. It made his eyes water. Which made no sense. Crying was supposed to be for bad emotions, this wasn’t. He didn’t know what it was exactly but it certainly wasn’t bad. Being so sick was putting him in weird emotional head space.

Gordon turned to him, opening his mouth as if he say something but whatever it was died unspoken. Instead he stepped closer, leaning in for a whisper. “You okay? Or I guess… dumb question but uh…”

“I’m uh… okay as I can be. Thanks for… just thanks.” The second part he said loud enough for Bubby and Coomer to hear too. He’d thank Tommy too later. “Now uh… come back. I wanna cuddle. And I’m sick and dying so you gotta do as I say.”

“Yeah, sure.” Gordon chuckled softly as he picked Benrey back up so he could turn and sit back on the couch with Benrey on his lap again. He kissed Benrey on the forehead as he settled against his chest again.

“You two and your damn PDA,” Bubby complained even as he sat next to them.

“This isn’t public,” Coomer corrected, sitting on his other side. “And even if it was, they get a special pass because Benrey’s is indeed sick and dying.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I’m just annoyed about having to wait for Tommy’s dad.”

Having to do more waiting to find out what was going to happen next did suck. But Benrey’s last nap had been interrupted by everyone’s arrival. He’d feel a bit better if he returned to it. “Wake me when uh… Tommy’s gets back, kay? So I know… what’s gonna happen and stuff.” What they were going to do if Tommy’s dad declined to help or if what he wanted in exchange was something they couldn’t give, they’d figure out when they got there.

“Okay.” Gordon gave him another kiss on the forehead as he drifted off.

~

It wasn’t Gordon or any of the others that woke Benrey though but instead something he couldn’t possibly name. Whatever it was made Gordon flinch.

With effort, Benrey opened his eyes and sat up to see Tommy’s dad standing in front of the couch now. Tommy stood slightly behind and to his side. The TV was on but frozen. Tommy’s dad was doing his weird time stop powers again. Whether he was trying to freeze Benrey too or was letting him go this time was unclear. It did feel different than before though or maybe that was Benrey’s imagination.

“Does this mean you’re going to help us?” Coomer asked as he and Bubby stood from the couch.

Mr. Coolatta let out a heavy sigh. “Yes, I suppose it does. Having you… four, I suppose, since you’ve seemingly tamed the beast, in my debt isn’t something to scoff at after all.”

“He’s not a beast and we didn’t tame him,” Gordon said as he pulled Benrey closer. Standing up for him like that wasn’t necessary, Benrey didn’t care about being referred to as a beast, but it was nice that he’d done so anyway. He cared enough about Benrey as a person to talk back to a time god.

“If you say so, Dr. Freeman. Now let’s…”

Bubby interrupted. “And what the fuck are you gonna have us do for you in return?”

“I haven’t decided yet. I’ll get back to you on that when I call in the favor. Now, as I was saying, let’s get to fixing this little… problem, shall we?”

The world shifted around their group. Benrey was suddenly standing next to Gordon instead of curled up in his lap. Rude, he’d been enjoying cuddling. They were in a blank void but only for a moment as everything shifted again and the sky was suddenly a familiar purple and blue. The ground beneath Benrey’s bare feet felt felt soft and spongy.

Instantly he felt better. One breath was all it took for him to go from barely awake to feeling normal. The next had him energized. From there it grew more and more until he his whole form was tingling with it. It was too small and restrictive to hold all of it. He held it in though, savoring it.

“You feel better?” Gordon asked as they all turned to look at him, even Mr. Coolatta.

Yes! He felt so much better in fact that words didn’t feel like they could possibly convey it. Instead, he laughed as he turned and sprinted off the edge of the floating island they’d landed on.

He let himself fall, the boundless sky blurring all around him as he plummeted past floating rocks and there was even what looked like another small island. The rush of air was exhilarating as it made his baggy clothing flap around him like a flag in the wind. Taking a deep breath, he let out a string of sweet voice, all the colours, adding to the swirl of visuals around him.

The first time he was here, he’d discovered Xen gave him new powers as well as improved all his other ones. Namely he could make his clothes change shape with him and he could fly, sort of, standing on air didn’t really count but it was close. It allowed him to freely expand his form, slowly at first but then rather quickly until his was big enough that all the power flowing through him didn’t feel like it was about to make him explode anymore. He then reluctantly slowed and stopped his fall before righting himself to a standing position.

Stepping up was a bit of a pain but he had big legs now so he could go quite far up with just one big step up. And thus in only a matter of seconds he was on level with the floating island he’d started from. Gordon had gone to the edge of it to look down. Reaching to touch him, maybe even pick him up, was tempting but… humans were fragile. It’d be way to easy to accidentally hurt him. Instead Benrey settled for just coming in close, staying low so he wasn’t towering over everyone too much. A little bit of towering was cool though, right?

“Asshole,” Bubby said. “You almost gave Gordon a heart attack. Fucking idiot, running off a cliff.”

Oops. Benrey hadn’t thought about how it would’ve looked to them, especially given how long he’d let himself fall for. “Sorry.”

Gordon pulled back from the edge – good, him being that close probably wasn’t wise lest the edge decide to crumble away – and sat down so he could lean back on his hand and look up at Benrey. “It’s… okay. I take it that uh… you feel better?”

“Yeah. I feel great.” Being in Xen came with a odd feeling as if he and the air around him were constantly vibrating slightly. It hadn’t been pleasant last time in how quickly it had grown to be too much. But after so long being endlessly exhausted and hurting, how energizing it was, was amazing.

“Congratulations on not dying, Benrey!” Coomer said.

“We’ll have to make coming here a regular thing now, right?” Tommy said. “Probably we wanna… you know, build a teleporter for next time because my dad might not want to do this again. We have time though.”

“About a year,” Coomer cut in. “Based off how long it took Benrey to power down this time. My batteries last about a year too.”

“Are you done yet?”

Benrey looked up to see Mr. Coolatta still standing exactly where he’d come in at, his hands folded behind his back. “Or would you like to… ‘hang out’ as the kids say?” he continued.

“Hang out a bit.” Benrey was still enjoying the feeling for now. “To make sure that uh… I don’t feel like that again anytime soon.” Spending more time here might mean he retained more energy upon returning.

“I’ll be back in two hours. Be ready to go by then.” Mr. Coolatta vanished.

“Guess were here for two hours then,” Gordon said. “As long as Benrey’s okay that’s fine. Even if this place is uh…” He trailed off. His face was too small to get a good look at but he sounded like he was grimacing.

Right, yeah. Last time he’d been here, he’d been scared of Benrey and scared and stressed in general. A lot had changed between them and Benrey had learned more about how far was too far. But that wouldn’t necessarily make this a comfortable place for him.

Benrey shrunk himself. Not a lot, only so that he wasn’t towering quite so much. He leaned it, resting one arm on the floating island and laying his head down on top of it so that he was looking mostly at Gordon but the rest of them too. His other hand he moved towards Gordon.

“Can I uh… can I…” How did he ask? Should he even? He wanted to touch and hold and make it better but he was so much bigger now. That made him scary, right? Was Gordon scared of him?

Gordon stared at him in silence for a few seconds, visibly tense before relaxing with a sigh. “Sure. Go for it.” He didn’t even know exactly what Benrey was asking. Having so much trust was… scary. Benrey didn’t deserve it. Things were different now but he’d still hurt Gordon once upon a time. He knew better now and Gordon had hurt him back, ultimately winning their fight, but… still.

Questioning good things wouldn’t do much though so he moved his hand closer. Gordon probably would’ve been about as tall as the tip of his pinky to the base of his palm if he were were standing up, maybe a bit shorter. He was sitting though and thus Benrey’s hand engulfed him rather well as he cupped it around him. He was tense but didn’t struggle so before Benrey could chicken out and careful not to grab, he scooped Gordon up into it.

“Okay,” Gordon said as he wrapped his arms around Benrey’s finger. “This is fine.”

Benrey pulled him closer to his face, careful not to jostle him too much. It was tempting to straighten and bring him up too but he wasn’t going to do that yet. Maybe in a bit when he was more sure he could do so gently. “You’re so little.”

Gordon’s face was harder to read when he was so small but that earned a small smile. “Nah, you just got big, dude. Which is pretty cool actually.”

“You’re not scared?”

He thought about it for a few seconds before replying. “No, I don’t think I am actually. When you ran off the edge I was but… that’s not what you’re asking about. Things were different last time we were here. But we’re cool now.”

“More than cool.” Things were great, especially now that Benrey wasn’t dying anymore.

“Yeah, they’re pretty great actually. I’m glad you’re okay. But since we’re here anyway and you’re already holding me, um… maybe lift me a bit higher so I can see more stuff.”

As gently and carefully as he could, Benrey obeyed. Straightening, he lifted Gordon as smoothly as he could before raising him a bit higher to give him a good view of the alien landscape surrounding them.

“Wow uh… this sure is something.” He sounded nervous.

“I won’t drop you.”

“I know.” More of that trust, voiced now. Still not entirely deserved but that was okay. He’d somehow earned Gordon’s trust anyway and he wasn’t going to squander it.

“There are so many inappropriate jokes I could make about this,” Bubby said. “But I won’t because I’m a good guy like that.”

Benrey looked down at him. “Want me to pick you up too?”

Tommy raised his hand. “Ooh, ooh, pick me up!”

Coomer raised his hand next. “Me too!”

Finally Bubby had time to reply. “Eh, I guess if everyone else is doing it, sure. Just make sure you don’t drop me over the edge.”

Taking inspiration from Gordon’s extra robot arm, Benrey grew two more arms out of his shoulders so he could pick all three of them up. One in each hand and one at a time, careful as he possibly could be. They weren’t as fragile as Gordon but still, they were so small they felt fragile.

Once he had all of them in his hands, he pulled them close to his body where they felt steadier. “Let’s go for a little walk then, huh? This place’s got lots of cool stuff too look at that we didn’t get to explore last time.”

A fun little adventure with his friends in Xen certainly beat sleeping on and off until he died for good. He probably wasn’t ever going to forget the fear he’d gained of permanent death though. It was too upsetting of an idea. … It was also a fear Gordon still faced though, had never not faced. Maybe Benrey would try to see if he couldn’t do something about it.

~

[A/N] The request I was talking about at the top of this fic was for them going to Xen. Which I already had this idea for so it fit perfectly. I held off on doing the idea for a bit since it's further in the future than anything else which probably contributed at least a little bit to how long it ended up being; I had a lot of time to build the idea.

[osamucide]

I'M HERE WITH SELF-SHIP QUESTIONS ‼️‼️ ignoring whatever stinky old man was in the comments of your blog under my last ask you answered...YOU'RE THE ONE WITH THE BEAUTIFUL SOUL ILY <3 I hope you enjoy some or at least one of these questions!! and I'm sorry if they're lame I did write them half-asleep!! but osareid 4life 4ever you guys are my favorite ily best ship ever I hope you've had a really good day <3 if there is anything else you want to add below these questions such as any other osareid hcs or literally a n y t h i n g I am here for it all!! have a lovely lovely day take of yourself mwah <3

night-time routines and what do you guys do if either of you are too tired to do your usual routine? (such as, being too tired to wash your face so the other helps you with it or keeps you company by the sink while you do so yk <3)

what does a rainy day look like for you guys? (staying inside? tea and games? "reid I'm gonna go kms" "okay be back by 5pm for dinner ily", etc?)

nicknames/any pet names for each other?favorite part(s) of domestic life with him?

top love language for both of you?

osamu and i are tenderly kissing each side of your face at the same time im in love with these and u

night time routines!!!!! gah. i usually take meds, scroll on phone, pass out. i try to do my lotion all over too every night (its hempz vanilla lux and its like one of the only earthly goods i let myself splurge on regularly) and if im doing it of course he wants in too. instead of meds he probably packs a lil bowl before for us to smoke while we watch tv before we sleep <3 i’ve mentioned x files is my our favorite and we tend to cycle through that n maybe a couple animes…….we’re both bad at sleeping so i don’t think we usually have an issue settling into a routine but every once in a blue moon i can pass out as soon as my head hits the pillow and he’ll put on some rain sounds and play with my hair or smth. but almost always meds, lotion, weed, tv and cuddle, snooze. tv includes phone time in which we send each other things instead of just tilting our screens to show each other. avg sleep time……..probably like…………2:37am approximately..

rainy days!!!! assuming we're both off work we are probably laying in bed watching movies. ill make lunch n dinner...maybe sammies for lunch and pasta for dinner. assuming we have groceries that is. if not maybe we'll take a rainy walk/train ride to the store and get snacks n drinks.....day drink a little n get tipsy before i force him to bake or paint with me or something hahaha

nicknames!!!!! he’s angel boy to meeeee. hi angel boy. love u angel boy. how’s my angel boy. i’m a cornball idgaf i want him to know he's the light of my life. he probably finds a bunch of silly ways to say my name and rotates those. n i think we both use honey, sweetie, sweetheart, love, baby, dear, the whole cheesy nine yards

domesticity!!!! i love being in the kitchen together. yes even though he is by and large a hazard in the kitchen. we don't do too bad if im instructing him (read: i do most of the work and assign him menial tasks while he hangs off me like a sloth and steps on my toes while im at the counter/stove). i also love. eating together. so much. something about being at home with your lover eating food you've made over quick kisses and laughter. fuck. i also love just existing together. just reading our own books with our feet touching or something. fuuuuuck

lurv language!!! we both touchy. like onlookers gag. sorry. have fun imagining a world where i’m not putting my tongue down his throat in public and he’s not full double palming my ass on the train/bus because it doesn’t exist

[ladylooch]

i can see nico being distracted and not helping around the house and they argue

or nico snapping one day at lexi cause of hockey. we know he never takes it out on them but i’m there have been a time or two where he has

or maybe one of them keeps saying no to sex and the other isn’t sure why and they just get into an argument about being disconnected or something

A/N: I’m going to go with the first one here with a spin. 

As gently as he possibly can, Nico Hischier lays his youngest, Sophie, down into her crib. 

The transfer is seamless. She barely notices she is on her mattress instead of her father’s chest. Nico carefully balances the bottle in his hand, not wanting to drop it and wake her. Tonight has been a pretty easy night, which Nico has needed. He has team related things he needs to get to, so he is thankful all the girls went down without a fight. It helps that they had a fun day at an amusement park with the Meier’s, so all three were extremely tired. Even their almost one year old had fun watching the older kids play games and experience the rides. 

Nico carefully closes the door, then double checks the monitor is working before he joins his wife downstairs. She sits at the kitchen table with her laptop, scrolling through Pinterest. Bright purple, pink and teal images cover the screen. He smiles, knowing what she is working on.

“For Soph’s party?” Nico asks after kissing her. Then he heads to the sink, rinsing out the used bottle and putting the separated parts into the dishwasher. He puts in a detergent pack, then runs the machine on a normal cycle. 

“Yeah! Do you have any thoughts on a theme?”

“Whatever you want, sweets.” 

“She isn’t just my child.” Lexi jokes. 

“I know.” Nico laughs, thinking about the huge dimples that were out in her cheeks all day. “I’m sure you’ll come up with a great theme, baby.”

“Well… I was hoping we could…”

“You don’t need me. Pinterest is way more creative.” He shrugs. “Plus I really need to get working on our pre-season team outing. I gotta reach out to a few places and ask about renting out their spaces.” 

Lexi doesn’t respond. Across the room, she watches him clean the kitchen counter. He doesn’t seem to notice her silence. Her eyes drift back to her computer screen and she continues her scrolling. Fine. I guess she is doing this whole party on her own. He clearly has bigger priorities than their daughter’s first birthday. Her shoulders tense and a deep frown pulls her lips down.

“What did you decide we are getting her?” Nico asks as he moves to the sink, starting to scrub the inside. “She really is liking the bubble machine the twins have. You should consider that.” Lexi purses her lips, feeling her body get heavy with the burden of responsibility Nico is pushing back onto her. Why does she have to come up with the gifts for Sophie? This was another thing she assumed they would decide together.

“Sure.” 

“Alright.” Nico murmurs as he tosses the used sponge in it’s holder. “I’m going to go to my office and get some stuff done.” He kisses her cheek, then leaves the room. Lexi rolls her eyes as he strolls down the hall to his office.

“Thanks for the help.” She mumbles after him. 

They reunite in bed a few hours later. Lexi comes out of the bathroom after removing her calming face mask. It may have soothed her irritated skin, but it hasn’t cured her mood or frustration with her husband.

“Can we talk?” Lexi asks as Nico folds open the covers on her side for her to get in. He drops his phone, turning his attention solely on her.

“Of course. What’s up?” He murmurs. He reaches for her hand, folding their fingers together. 

“I am feeling… frustrated.” She settles on.

“Okay? What can I do?”

“I need you to help me with Soph’s party.” Nico’s eyebrows furrow and he tilts her head at her.

“You have never wanted my input before on the girls’ party.”

“Yeah, I know. But I really need your support for this one. I am feeling overwhelmed and, like, overburdened with responsibility in our family already. I’m concerned about that because the season hasn’t started yet. I think if I could have your support right now, that would really help.”

“Okay. Absolutely. What can I do?” 

“Can you sit with me tomorrow night and help decide some key details?”

“Yes. We could drop the girls with Timo and Emma, make a whole night of it just me and you?” Lexi smiles, then leans into him. Her arms weave around his body, relaxing into his chest at how sweet and wonderful he is being about this.

“That would be amazing. More than I asked for.” She murmurs. 

“I know. But I want you to know you’re a priority to me too. If you’re feeling like this, I want to step up and help. You do a great job around here, baby. Sometimes I think that means you always have it handled. That isn’t fair.” He kisses her forehead. 

“Goodness, Nico. You’re so damn sweet, I’m getting a cavity.” Lexi chuckles, feeling so relieved and heard by him.

Perfect Nico Hischier always knows exactly what she needs to hear.

[t0kidal]

The Alef Part 6

__________________________________________

(Alright, let’s speed it up a bit, I might throw in some in between chapters so I could write more fun settings than just “business and main story” things. Also, since I heard that wotakoi finished late last year I’m catching up on that. There might be some inspiration from there.

Anyways, hope you enjoy!)

Masterlist

__________________________________________

Needless to say, being dumped into Kalego and Shichiro’s class was HARD.

There was so much reading to catch up on, the teachers all dragged you to their office hours so that you could catch up, and being immensely grateful for their efforts you just couldn’t say no.

So much reading, so much struggle, it’s like you’re fighting for your life just being there. But you know, you have to give it your all to survive!

Which brings us up to now, in your humble abode.

As it was the weekend you were happy for the break but thoroughly exhausted from trying to finish everything (chores, homework, studies) on Friday.

Your phone was going crazy next to you but you were on the verge of passing out from your place on the floor.

You really should’ve checked that phone because next thing you knew, your door slammed open and someone’s poking your face.

“Y/n Y/n Y/n, Oi, Y/n”

“Opera-senpaaaaiiiiii, pleeeeaaaase I’m tired.”

“It’s time for training.”

“Noooooo.”

“The Harvest Festival is only three months away, you need to prepare.”

At that you sit up, eyes alight with ire. (e/c) Orbs clashing with a red-yellow gradient as you gesture to the books on the coffee table next to you.

All of them were about flora and fauna found in the netherworld, ranging from low leveled flowers to killer birds.

“I’m just taking a break senpai… but rest assured” you grit out, “I will survive.”

The hyper fixation on surviving and adjusting to the new academic level served you well, now it’s all about resting and scheming up a plan for the Harvest Festival.

He only nods in approval, eyes curious and intrigued, as his ears flick about.

“Then it’s time for some more training, aren’t I such a good Senpai? Here I am, tutoring my beloved Kouhai.”

He says as he picks you up like a sack of rice.

“Wait… WAIT NONONONONOOOOOOOOOOOO.”

~~~

It was a scene straight out of a painting of hell.

Vines everywhere, huge claw marks still sizzling from the sheer energy in the strikes, surrounding a flattened area in the middle resembling ground zero.

Kalego and Shichiro knocked out in the center, similar to the position you were in when Opera came to fetch you.

“Alright! Kouhai! Today, in preparation for the Harvest Festival, I’m not going to kill you. Maybe.”

“...”

“...”

“...”

To Opera, it was as if he suddenly had a set of triplets, all of them wearing the same deadpanned apprehension on their faces.

“But enough about that. Here’s how we’ll play game one.”

~~~

‘Game One’ as it turns out is Hide and Hunt.

As most of the beasts in the Netherworld were as tasty as they were deadly your goal (along with Kalego and Shichiro) would be to take down Opera, and/or hide (survive) him, in this miniature version of the real Harvest Festival. 

With the help of Opera’s “Master”, whatever that means, there’d be plenty of opportunities for the three of you to practice your strengths and, maybe, work around your weaknesses.

This was gonna be a long...

“Opera-senpai, how long will we be doing this for?” you ask oh so innocently.

“Till we’ve reached our limit.”

... oooooh you really didn’t like the sound of that.

~~~

You’ve been cornered. A wall in front of you and Opera behind you.

Why did the three of you split up? Because it would’ve been harder for Opera to follow all of you.

But here you were, the weakest in terms of technique and combat with nothing to do but fight.

I mean, it wasn’t as if you could turn your wicked phase on and off, so your inhibitions keep weighing you down when you try to strike.

After another block, “You’re being too gentle and cautious, Y/n. C’mon you need to fight me.”

“Trying! It’s not my fault you’re the senpai that scares everyone shitless.”

You barely manage to duck forward under a kick, almost instinctively; instead of rolling away, you lunge forward to try and grapple him, without regards to the skill gap.

Unfortunately, that gap is huge and he manages to break out of it without a sweat.

“Hmm.” His tail sways curiously.

“Not bad.”

“You’re just being nice.” You pant out.

How do you get out of this? How? Think c’mon now, think think thi-…

Oh.

You inhale so much air, straightening your back as your chest swelled as much as you could make it.

“SHICHIRO, KALEGO!”

It was a last ditch effort, you had to rely on these two to try and find you. Not only was this the perfect ploy to distract Opera, if only for a moment, it was also a chance to make use of the position. Sure, you didn’t have anywhere to go, but neither did he.

Opera looked around as if they’d pop out of the bushes, and taking this moment of distraction, you dash at him and finally land a knee to his solar plexus.

What the hell was his stomach made of iron!?

Winded and vulnerable, between shredding your lungs and maybe breaking your knee, you feel a clawed hand grab your face and slam you down.

“Hmm, we can definitely work with this.”

Who was ‘we’ you didn’t really care for at the moment, you were about to get the ass whooping of your life.

And then you see his ears twitch.

“Cerberus.”

“Hello, Y/n-San.”

Opera’s hands come up across his chest, interlocking with a set of talons in one, grabbing an ankle in another.

Take the chance.

And you do, you grab him by his waist and grapple him, using your shoulder to pin him down and your arms to hold him in place as you squeeze. Something takes hold of you, and using the last of your strength, you fling yourself (and therefore Opera) over your shoulder.

The blow echoes through the training grounds, and as dust settles…

A successful German Suplex!

You let yourself drop with a sigh.

But you weren’t expecting Opera’s body to flop limply with you.

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

……….. (O-o)

“I think… I have a concussion.”

“…”

“…”

“Then… it looks like we WON!”

Damnit Kalego.

With that, Opera’s eyes focus in on its new target.

~~~

[leyllethecreator]

Rigamarole: Section 2: Bubble

We’re playing that game again. Mom’s pretending to suspect nothing. I’m pretending not to notice that she’s pretending not to notice, while Riley’s pretending to check texts to get out of eating his breakfast.

He’s texting me.

I keep the sound off, watching the text bubbles appear on my blue wallpaper one after another - forcing each other upwards on the screen like little drowning men pushing each other toward the surface.

It feels like we’re playing monkey in the middle - lobbing messages over mom’s head through cyberspace.

“Just cut the act and let’s go. I’ll tell mom we have to leave early so I can find parking, but I’m not helping you out of lunch.”

“Leia…”

I look up and glare at him, so I won’t start screaming.

I’m so sick of being the middleman - girl - the land bridge between the three islands I call my family - trying to play damage control-

But I’d hate saying something even more. I’d hate breaking Riley’s trust, and I’d hate what mom and dad would say and do if they found out.

It has to be better this way, right?

I talk until my face hurts - anytime mom asks a question - just so that Riley won’t have to-

He’s so much worse at lying than I am. But I’ve had more practice.

“Look, if you just eat whatever fruit mom packed in our lunches today, I won’t say anything else about it for the whole day. I promise. Deal?”

He doesn’t look up but I feel his expression quaver with a wash of inexplicable fear so palpable I can almost taste it. I feel sick to my stomach, and the bubbles spam the screen.

“Please don’t, Leia. I’ve got a plan. I’m working on it…”

No, he’s not.

I flip my phone onto its face, making it breathe in the table cloth, as Mom leans a little too hard on the counter.

“Do you guys want mustard or mayo on your sandwiches?” 

I can hear her exhaustion, but I don’t know why she’s so anxious and tired when she has no reason to believe that she doesn’t know anything.

I’ve been careful.

I wish she would just let us make our own sandwiches. 

I foresee gaining a whole lot of weight before graduation, but at this point I’ve forgotten how to properly care about my image, my weight, my public perception…

I’m too busy trying to get Riley to school in a state we can pass off as “normal” at least until we get to the car.

I can make sure we’re both out of the front door in time so there’s no need for mom to question anything. 

But there’s still our lunches to think about.

It’s crazy that she still insists on packing our lunches herself, even at our ages. If she didn’t this would be a whole lot easier-

At the mention of sandwiches Riley flinches visibly like someone said ‘fire.’

It doesn't matter. Her back is turned.

Still I can’t avoid this slimy feeling as Riley glances in my direction, and I resist the urge to put my head in my hands.

I’m disgusting. 

Because heaven knows, I’ll be the one eating his lunch - just so there won’t be any questions. Heaven knows, I’ll be bartering with him to eat a half portion until that half portion becomes an apple or an orange, and then half an apple, and then just the juice. Then, I’ll stuff my own gullet until I feel like I’m going to puke, because he doesn't want to throw it away.

Because apparently it’s “right as rain” to eat something and then puke it up again, but throwing away food would be wrong.

“I can’t rationalize it, I guess…” 

“You know we both prefer mayo mom,” I say brightly, hating the taste of my tongue in my mouth. She smiles a little warily.

“I’m sorry. I’m just a little out of it today. I’ve got such a headache.”

I just smile a little because I don’t know what else to say. Riley looks up, thanking me with his eyes - and I want to spit at him - tell him not to dare thank me, and to hurry up and quit this insanity so we can stop living on eggshells-

But I just reply to his last text, “I’m done waiting for your ‘plan,’ Riley. Don’t try to argue with me and grab your backpack so we can go.”

I give mom a little hug as Riley picks up his own backpack and mine. I grab my keys, yank the backpack from his skeleton-thin hand, and shove him toward the front door - before he can say anything - look at me-

I’m not in the mood for anything. For nonsense. For talking. For thinking.

I hate you so much.

And I can't do anything but beg you to stay alive.

“…There are so many hungry people in the world.”

“There really are.”

But the one I’m worried about right now is you.

(This story is making it's official debut on my Patreon May 27th!:

[rennyji]

can this be the last of it...who knows...

updated 2/17/2024 6:00 AM with last sections

A few tweets ago, I said doing things like headstands/assisted headstands or relaxation response after a stimulating experience like going thru social media/gaming. Left unchecked, U might not focus on theNews or something. The onus of stopping & next step is on u. Be mindful.-

- in “my situation,”…well…how do you feel after blogging something, after talking 2 some1, during a party, after a play ur in with others? If nothing, it’s not the roll out of bed feeling, when you wake up.-

-a constant eventful life can B aProblem affecting sleep, or u get used 2 it in normal situations as w/celebrities. U can work out 2 shake it off, or meditate-but if ur on tranquilizers, it makes it hard 2 move. Or If the "devil" magically obstructs ur breathing, u can’t meditate.-

-Ive embarked on pessimists route 2 receiving fruits of optimism. In my life, I know Im naked in more ways than 1. Its some1s version of “what a guy,” but being that guy, I wonder, doesn’t any1 care enough 2 stop it-its not acceptance, but assuming worst, leaves no surprises.-

-Id prefer if others were themselves in whatever they convey, in indirect ways done. Otherwise becomes 1 more thing 2 think on. If U could tell me, “HEY Here’s proof (not evidence) u need 2 stop ur situation by taking it 2 police” that’d be incredible. Been asking 4 a decade plus of time.-

- but behind that direct proof, vs evidence and of course signs, I feel no satisfaction saying “ha ha u never fooled me.” I’ve gotten old and I’m frankly tired from Constant exposure 2 nonsense inside & outside. If I specify, something gets verification & pummels me harder.-

-It can’t get worse than link summing situation. On origins &how it’s snowballed, Ive nothing 2 gain from more. Believe what U will. when all the literal cover ups happen. Ur gonna want to throw stones at the source of the youthful voices that I think others can also hear under different subjects. Think: if they can detect a wave, they can send a wave. In/out. Send/Receive. What can a wave do? A booming speaker with just sound waves, can move an object...there's a whole spectrum of waves...You know I can be insightful, how gullible do you think I am, regardless of however depicted? Not 2 get urbane, but from “Hamlet”: “There are more things in heaven&earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in ur philosophy.”

ur thinking smoke & mirrors to my situation...Its hacking! the phones, the laptops, the Alexa's, the streaming devices, the webcams, the mics, cameras here/there, maybe other electronics at home and in car...we're talking mind reading, so satellite infrared of body/eye movements-

- but somewhere in the timeline of this situation, I came across brain mapping, running voices and aliens thoughts to my mind by me, detecting a reaction from emotions detected thru fMRIs, copying the neurons processing sight...who knows...

- and being the age of lawlessness and encouraging lack of accountability, to further encourage involvement to harass by strangers, probably use some form of anonymous social networking, to make every1 feel "involved" in history and "The Project."

Believe what you will, like whatever "they" tell you...that "clearly" (note: sarcasm) always works... From “Hamlet:" “There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in ur philosophy.”

other stuff from today and previous days below:

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

other things that were tweeted that were never uploaded to Tumblr:

people can be overactive after working, or after going through the white light surrounding social media. try hanging upside down (assisted) with the help of the feetup bench. You'd be surprised how often our feelings and activities and health decrease circulation to the head:

I agree with AppleTV ( #AppleTV ) 's advertising about having great shows with notable stars. But right now, it seems like they've hit a lull after #LessonsInChemistry and #Hijack. Can't wait till they continue with #Foundation and #Silo.

Its sad Henry Cavill ( #HenryCavill) won't return to being #Superman or #TheWitcher ( #Witcher ) ..he really made the characters who they are...

Now time is going 2 be spent impeaching Secretary of Homeland Security from meeting till 1AM in morning. In mySituation, focus isOn diminishing/addressing executive functioning. Executive functioning is about self control/prioritizing. Nows time 2"start" reading thru Border Bill.

America is characterized by big cars, large meals...but is a Friday pizza/five guys double cheese burger really that bad? I eat a fun size/share size Hasbro Gummy Bear/Sour Path kids and I feel satisfied. A ShopRite pack of Gushers, a measly five in package. -

- rather then helping people communicate telepathically to their smartphones, its great tech like #Neuralink also helps paralyzed people have working spinal cords. -

-But rather than people adjusting to new cuisines and their large calorie count (like a burger/cinnamon roll), by not eating it, people should be enhanced to handle large calorie counts. A cinnamon roll should be just that, a small sweet circle, not a worm hole of 2000 calories.

#SupermanLegacy ( Superman Legacy ) releases 2025-I watch myself gettingOlder, highlighted by longAwaited releases&interval b/w movies in DC/Marvel universe. I startedCollege when #IronMan ( Iron Man ) came out. Im approaching 40 when Avengers Infinity War & End Game ended saga.

Dragon Ball ( #DragonBall ) GT was not Cannon upping its game ... but Super Saiyyan 4 Goku meets Super Saiyan Blue #Goku , in a Japanese movie with English subtitles, bringing them together, on #Youtube .

On Taylor Swift and Kelce , #TravisKelce ( Travis Kelce ) is the luckiest guy, to have not just Taylor Swift ( #TaylorSwift ), but any girl with a concert the day b4 his game, essentially time travel to arrive hours b4 game, because of time difference leaving Japan 1 day ahead.

This gap after the Aquaman movie sequel is upsetting ... where if I want to see #Supergirl with Milly Alcock , I have to wait years, or if I want to see Wonder Woman ( #WonderWoman ) , I have to settle on the #SuicideSquadGame ( Suicide Squad Game ) ...

https://x.com/RennyJi/status/1752437823376863319?s=20

Love how they did throwback respect to #Sokka ( Sokka ) with the reuse of his voice and subtle #AvatarTheLastAirBender references in #DragonPrince on #Netflix.

#LetEmKnow#IDoNotConsent nor did I ever, nor will I ever, to NON-chip-in-brain based machine interpretation of thoughts like #Neuralink ( Neuralink ). What happens when it’s without nanotech implanted in YOUR BRAIN?!

#IDontWantToOverreactBut if grocery store donuts cost $8.99 , why not go to a local bakery and get premium donuts? And if frozen pizzas cost $10, why not go for the real thing? If grocery store ice cream costs $5 plus tax, why not go to Carvel or Coldstone?!

I’ve wondered, did Captain America ( #CaptainAmerica ) in his younger self, see his older self, when he was saying Goodbye to Peggie, in whichever movie sequel it was: Civil War or Winter Soldier…

I want you to want me to be free from my situation & dosomething about it like giving me proof I need 2 stop it-this is so NOT Back To The Future #NotBackToTheFuture . Doc Brown & Marty would think this mindReading/control timeline, acceptedByPeople, is from a parallelUniverse.

I got to hand it to those who embark on the 1000+ piece Lego Projects depicting Deloreans , Corvettes, or Thor's hammer...its the ultimate puzzle adventure...requires patience, focus, determination...

Our emotions and feelings are not things to be suppressed with drugs (legal/illegal) or even alcohol (if suppression is ur purpose), but signs, that whatever contributing to them, needs to be addressed. Let it fuel you, rather than bring you down.

Regardless of questionable staffers on the Palestine front, probably shouldn't use that as an excuse to cut off funding for aid in a decimated area lacking likely food, shelter, electricity ...

On Thursday of this week, a man was executed with nitrogen gas, used to put him thru a 30 min ordeal of gagging/suffocating. As today, Saturday, is Holocaust Remembrance Day, probably shouldn't aim for something similar to gas chambers.

When U see something like shape of earth, its orbit, the sounds from the earth and its frequencies, or even how the moon is at the right distance to eclipse the sun and earth of different sizes, the Big Bang Theory-a chaotic event producing exactness-becomes mind boggling.

#Jawan was great. Hope #Fighter in New York theaters, or at least #AmazonPrimeVideo or #Netflix - can’t remember last time I saw great dancer #Hrithik (#HrithikRoshan - Hrithik Roshan) in a movie-seems like #Bollywood , Brit&EastAsian more on streaming services than #Hollywood…

Law becomes about words and meaning of words and how the meaning of words can be interpreted for situations and set a precedent for future cases. Is insurrection the same as a riot? Regarding border crisis, is it an invasion or just closing the door?-

- on closing the border, there’s a saying: “ Before you remove the splinter in your neighbors eye, remove the log from your own eye” so that u can see clearly.-

- Connecting it w/border crisis, if you can’t satisfy the people already in America, if there isn’t enough resources 4 them, you can’t bring in the responsibilities of other countries. They ARE the responsibilities of their native countries.-

- America and the United Nations needs to send assistance thru army or diplomats to make things better for asylum seekers in their native countries.

#IsItOverNow w/respect to my tweeting days for the immediate future, most likely. This would never end w/all thought provoking trends, things wrong in the world, and "my situation."

Copy and paste below link (do not know why its not clickable)

https://x.com/RennyJi/status/1750706014901395747?s=20

MySolution 4 Social Media Tech Execs @Meta( #Meta#Zuckerberg )

@Facebook ( #Facebook ), @X ( #X#Twitter ), @tiktok_us ( #TikTok) etc. on (1/31/24) Senate Hearing. KeepStock of flaggable material+set threshold 4 totalAllowedAmount. SeeBlog 4elaboration:

Copy and paste below link (do not know why its not clickable) https://www.tumblr.com/rennyji/741063536210575360/solutions-to-senate-hearing-with-tech-execs?source=share

U gotta wonder if situation lasted long b/c of disdain/hesitancy 2 lawsuit,by supposed representatives ofMe. Can it get more public/uglier than this?Maybe cuz spotlight, now, isOnMe. Probably deluding those inMyLife w/clearing this/that. -night/day, orchestrators still criminals

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

Home conversation in kitchen/eating area of the house, should be noted b/w times of 2:40ish and 2:51ish on 2/4/24- 2nd or 3rd time mentioning in tumblr/twitter…had my phone on me, my ears & brain on me, 4 the hackers-a call for need of mental competency tests of those in charge.

There is a degradation of culture in western world: I’m not 1 to call himself religious, but I believe & have insight…I have respect for these practices. A Commandment: Don’t Use My Name in Vain- outta respect, should avoid rhetoric like [Jesus] F* [Christ] or [Holy] f* [God]-

-Y blame God 4 ur’s or other’s choices? God didn’t cause my decade long situation. People did,& their enablers. Nature of existence defined in literal/figurative Adam/Eve story. 4 a bad choice, toil on earth was the punishment.We have power to choose & responsibility of choices.-

- Fate is the framework of our existence. It’s what we are born into. The framework says where the floor and ceiling are. Destiny is how high or low we “choose” to go within the framework of fate.- some people work hard to go above the ceiling.

Rick & Morty ( #RickAndMorty or

@RickandMorty ) is 1 of the greatest series I’ve seen. I binged all 7 seasons on #Max . It’s sad when a series U bonded with, ends, & U have 2 wait 365 days for 10 or so episodes. Hope the creators can speed things up. Amazing job on the story.

A non or repetitive news day is probably a good day because nothing necessarily bad transpired. But, seems like they’re showing same things…I guess that’s the difference between news channels and the 10 PM news on the lower channel numbers. 10 PM churns out new stuff daily.

“Some” of the supposed predictive analytics (a nonsense word as part of a cover up for something more serious) stems from having written and spoken things over and over, across a decade. Now it’s like a mapping table in Excel. “he sees/hears this” = “will likely react with this”

- there’s excel type mapping from the youth sounding voices, and legit mind reading/control that probably dates back to the Cold War or WWII

Nonsensical conversation from 6:40 ish till 7 pm ish in bedroom w/mother…says decade old material w/o reason, gets me riled up thru bringing up multiple non connected topics (incoherent) & keeps pressing, while having me go in circles repetitively. Usual style. Motive, who nos?-

- if I could do it again, even w/my situation, would never live w/relatives beckoning “please, the house is ‘just 4 u.’” Results in poor life planning from supposed 1 less concern. After an age, while in a paralyzing situation closing doors, over analysis on ur day is straining.-

- Dealing w/people from another culture: u say same line repeatedly as a response, they focus on same question w/o hearing. “They have eyes & won’t see…ears & won’t hear…” like waiting 2 hear what’s in head or create so much nonsense, u feel victimized.-

Dealing w/people from another culture: dealing w/their standards of what’s appropriate 2 tell family/doctors/law enforcement…have 2 ask what planet U hail from? So it’s not okay 2 tell a doctor u feel sick? It’s not okay 2 bad mouth the family when talking about familial things?

From Danny Phantom ( #DannyPhantom ), anyone remember the ghost wale from the version of him that mixed with Vlads ghost in time travel episode with Clockwork? Or the box ghost? Or Ember you will remember?

I think Helen of Troy was the story w/ Trojan horse…with USAs welcoming of asylum seekers, it’s hard not 2 wonder if rival countries are planting people. How can there be 5000 asylum seekers daily every day for years. Britain seemed 2 share in notion by leaving European Union.

America has always been a place for opportunity seekers/better lives seekers…but maybe the United Nations should and the army should better life in native places trying 2 prune out nay sayers thru education & opportunity.

Providing better schooling and on the flip side: something like video games and cinnamon rolls and a pizza might have anti American places a different perception and different life goals rather than joining some militia

I don’t know what it is with genetics, but younger children seem more innocent looking than their burlier serious looking older siblings…look at Aquaman & his brother or The Brothers Sun- it’s like people innately know this deep in their psyche, when producing creative content:

Associated pic:

https://x.com/RennyJi/status/1754680021640257691?s=20

The amount of content produced in #anime like Attack on Titan or Demon Slayer is phenomenal. I still feel non English dubbed Japanese versions have better stories-need 2 learn Japanese. I don’t know how they do it vs. American animation-At high speeds, tons of content produced.

So the Chinese have animals associated with birth years too…Chinese buffets used to have menus with their zodiac printed on them. 1957 is the year of the rooster and 1988 is the year of the dragon. Maybe the small arms of the dragon is why I can’t use chopsticks…

Associated pic:

https://x.com/RennyJi/status/1754682359352316084?s=20

Danny Phantom ( #DannyPhantom) was probably the last of Nickelodeons awesome schedule of shows. Maybe iCarly ( #iCarly ) was last or #AvatarTheLastAirbender . What happened to #Nickelodean? B4 splitting to 3 versions, its was kids shows, teen shows, I love Lucy like shows…

Rather than averaging 5000 asylum seekers/illegals weekly, Y not just close border? Now they get free credit cards in New York. Ever try calling Unemployment in NY as a citizen?4 benefits, there isn’t even a hold if Too many callers-line gets disconnected on daily basis/all day.

Pronouns can get confusing…in high school Spanish, we learned plural form of a group of men & women, is characterized by “EllOs” - the male form of “They” I guess the men & women didn’t care sharing a pronoun. now, in English, “They” (plural) can refer to 1 person- confusing.

Youtube links:

https://x.com/RennyJi/status/1754948345775173921?s=20

https://x.com/RennyJi/status/1754948122613047463?s=20

Love the Morty theme, especially the orchestral version, from Rick and Morty. The song is actually “For the Damaged Coda” by, I believe, artist: Blonde Redhead:

Associated tweet:

https://x.com/RennyJi/status/1754950858633056732?s=20

If I ever become wealthy, I’m going to have different East Asian chefs to prepare meals, & some1 Japanese 2 make desserts. There’s something magical about sticky rice/sautéed meat. The sauces seem simple, but are exquisite. And vegetables seem easier to consume, Chinese style.

With Apple Vision Pro ( a virtual reality headset ) getting released, imagine Ubers and Instacart’s & grubhub/door dashers having cars, driven by people wearing VR goggles in their home & using something like Logitech video game driving package (G923). - twist 2 driverless cars

On Taylor Swift and Kelce , #TravisKelce ( Travis Kelce ) is the luckiest guy, to have not just Taylor Swift ( #TaylorSwift  ), but any girl with a concert the day b4 his game, essentially time travel to arrive hours b4 game, because of time difference leaving Japan 1 day ahead.

Interpret law vs. waiting 4 literalWording #JustAnnounced President (s) ( #Presidents )/regular people, need 2see laws asGuidelines 2extrapolate them in2 eachModernDay. #NoOneIsAboveTheLaw #tuesdayvibe #SCOTUSExtended thought onItIn Tumblr post below:

There is a degradation of culture in western world: I’m not 1 to call himself religious, but I believe & have insight…I have respect for these practices. A Commandment: Don’t Use My Name in Vain- outta respect, should avoid rhetoric like [Jesus] F* [Christ] or [Holy] f* [God]-

-Y blame God 4 ur’s or other’s choices? God didn’t cause my decade long situation. People did,& their enablers. Nature of existence defined in literal/figurative Adam/Eve story. 4 a bad choice, toil on earth was the punishment.We have power to choose & responsibility of choices.-

- Fate is the framework of our existence. It’s what we are born into. The framework says where the floor and ceiling are. Destiny is how high or low we “choose” to go within the framework of fate.- some people work hard to go above the ceiling.

Im an MBA in Management Information Systems, w/Bachelor of Science in Computer Science. Everyday, I apply for 30 or more jobs, as U can see from the “Thank U” emails in the 3 screenshots below. From 1 pm -10 pm, just kept applying. It’s that hard, or something has it in 4 me.

For screenshots:

https://x.com/RennyJi/status/1758699919324381466?s=20

- The number 2 right of sender indicates I applied 4 that many different roles within the same company. Gonna attach a screenshot, referenced in previous tweet once more, as Twitter is only showing 2 screenshots in previous tweet, although 3 were attached. Here’s the 3rd one.

For screenshot

https://x.com/RennyJi/status/1758700825122148413?s=20

- not sure what more I can do 4 these jobs. Biden says there’s jobs. I have two degrees, work experience, & I’m applying for jobs that require no experience. I had my resume proofread by a paid reviewer. After a while, is it paranoid 2 assume something is settings odds against u?

-&if U get stuck w/o response from prospective employers, Unemployment is next step in New York. When U call them, part of application process is online & other half is thru phone. U call,&no 1 picks up, or line gets disconnected cuz too many callers. No call back. Happens daily.

- & that’s when America is giving luxury housing, free health care, credit cards, & sex change operations to 5000 or more asylum seekers coming 2 American everyday. How can there be 5000 asylum seekers daily& how is it fair when citizens have hard time getting a job or freebies?

It’s sad that Chadwick Boseman , the original Black Panther ( #BlackPanther ) star, passed away. From a straight perspective, he was a pretty good looking dude to have to face that misfortune, especially in the prime of his career…

The 90s Silver Surfer ( #SilverSurfer ) cartoon series, showed the extent of his dealings with Galactus ( #Galactus ) and other story twists. Regrettably, the series ended prematurely without multiple seasons.

Life in America? Shooting in Times Square last Saturday, shooting at Joel Oesteens Church:Sunday, there was a NYC subway shooting on Monday, a mass shooting at celebration of the victory of the Kansas City Chiefs: Wednesday, & on Thursday: teenager involved in subway shooting.

- up until yesterday, starting last Saturday, w/exception of Tuesday of this week, theres been a shooting every day of week. Sure Constitution says we have right 2 arms, & Americans are touchy about their guns, but at this point, the privilege, from being abused, should B banned.

Looking forward to the #MadameWeb ( Madame Web ) movie. Hope they concentrate a movie on Spiderwoman. From 80s or 90s cartoon series on Disney Plus, the character is attractive on multiple levels. She can zap on her costume and fly! SpiderMan or Peter Parker can’t.

B4 I got LASIK, & wore glasses/contacts, stores like LensCrafters emphasized collection of glass frames w/brands like Dolce & Gabbana & Versace. & LASIK? Great quick process but ur warned about that risk of things totally going south during procedures & u going blind. -

- ud be surprised how many people have poor vision, drive with that poor vision, and can’t afford basic means to correct their vision…and that’s how it is in America…who knows how bad it is elsewhere…

Bollywood has a lot of stars from Punjab , Gujurat , and in the Sindhi people … all great people-rich in culture, style, foods, clothes, dances, songs, and love stories…

Can’t wait till the remake of the Avatar The Last Airbender ( #AvatarTheLastAirbender ) #AvatarNetflix movie gets released on Netflix ( #Netflix ) … one of the last hit shows like iCarly ( #iCarly ) on an aging Nickelodeon ( #Nickelodeon ) …

Any1 else play NBA Jam 99? On Nintendo 64? I don’t get sports video games. w/games like NBA Jam, cheat codes like L button 3x &right directional button, & that sequence 2 more times, followed by the Z button, it gives U the fireball that never misses hoop. No point 2 playing.

I always wonder if the late night shows with all the jimmys ( like some cosmic late night joke ) is indeed live or a live stream. They show scenes from the show in the commercials during the late night news preceding the late night talk shows…

ps5 Football isJustPainful w/all guys tackling U when uGetBall. touchdown takes 4ever.-its same @ SuperBowl. depending on how U C it as goodOrBad, if theres tie inGame, gameDrags in2 overtime, w/more minimal motion moves. 6point touchdowns is 1 of possible radicalChanges inGame.

I miss 90s shows like Hanging with Mr Cooper or Sister Sister … gave feel good feelings

Happy to hear there’s a new Fantastic Four movie coming out. This is the second remake. They never go wrong with the stars playing the Invisible Woman.

Spider-Man or Spider-Woman-Spider-Woman, like Morbius , canFly. LoveHow in #Morbius movie, theyAdded multiverse w/SpiderMan villainFrom Thanos/Avengers-verse, like adding aMarvel 2 X-men verse, or recent friendlier Venom ( #Venom ) splitting in2 bad 1 in Tom Holland’s SpiderMan.

Anyone else remember Captain Planet ( #CaptainPlanet )? Cuz he’s a hero. Gonna take pollution down to zero…gonna help him…earth, fire, wind, water, heart-those were the days on cartoon network & boomerang. Along w/Johnny Quest, The Flintstones, The Jetsons, & even The Smurfs…

Marvel comes out w/more realLifeActor movies while DC does more animation. On DCside, b/c of amountOfTime b/w sequels, hating how last 2movies came in part 1/part II style stories. I.e. Justice League RWBY heroes & huntsmen, & also crisis on infinite earths, on Google Play Store.

Starship Troopers has 1ofMy favoriteFemaleIcons: Denise Richards-&got 2see @JLo ( Jennifer Lopez ) on @jimmyfallon . Along w/her, theres @Shakira , whos also out w/aNewAlbum. newsSide, fan of@kayleighmcenany & @ErinBurnett . from bollywood, love Ameesha Patel. ( @ameesha_patel )

There is a time 2 look up, look straight ahead, & inward. U look inward, when U need 2 think thru a problem. U look straight 2 keep ur eyes open 4 a solution, & u look up when its time 2 leave 2 God 2 handle the results after U do ur best-ur part.

[canirove]

Red & Blue | Chapter 6

Author's note: There is something about Mason's hair on this chapter, but despite being currently relevant, it was written weeks ago 😅 Thank you very much for reading! 💜

Previous chapter | Next chapter

Masterlist

A couple of weeks after breaking up with Ben, I’m back with the national team.

“Hello, honey” Emily says as I walk out of my car, giving me a big hug. “How are you?”

“Good” I say with a shy smile.

“We will take good care of you here, you’ll see” she says as we walk into St. George’s Park. Inside, everyone I meet with comes to say hello, all of them giving me a hug and asking how I am. Even Southgate.

“We are a family, and we care about everyone” he says.

“Thank you” I say. “But if people keep being this nice, I’m gonna end up crying again.”

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━    

“There she is! My favorite gunner!” Declan says when Leah and I walk into the room where the people who has already arrived is chilling.

“Oh, Declan, that’s so cute!” Leah says.

“I wasn’t talking about you, Williamson” he says as he gets up to give me a hug.

“Rude” she says, sitting down where Declan was. “Has Mason arrived yet?”

“Nope” he says. “But we should be seeing him and his stupid new haircut soon.”

“He cut his hair? No more prince Mount?” I say.

“Nope. And I don’t think you’ll like it when you see it.”

“Please tell me he didn’t went back to those weird bangs, the ones he got at the beginning of the season. They still give me nightmares.”

“It’s that short, but no bangs.”

“That’s something.”

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━   

“Why Mason. Why” I say when he arrives.

“Why what? What did I do?” he asks, confused and a bit scared.

“That” I say, pointing at his head. “Why did you do that?”

“I got tired of having to keep it in place all the time. And it was bothering me while playing.”

“Then cut it a bit. Do something like Declan. Or go back to the hair you had in Oporto. You looked so good that day.”

“Did I?” he smirks.

“You did, yes. But you aren’t anymore, so stop smiling like that” I say, trying to ignore the fact that I just confessed that I find him attractive. Or used to. That haircut is making me reconsider it.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━  

The next few days feel like a blessing. We train, we play our first game and win, and we all spend time together, having fun. Things start to feel normal, that something I’ve had on my chest since I broke up with Ben almost gone. Some of my teammates are even thinking about throwing me a birthday party despite having to play that day.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━   

“There you are” Leah says when I leave the changing room after training, some of the other girls looking at me and whispering.

“Did something happen?” I ask.

“You haven’t checked your phone yet, have you?”

“I left it upstairs charging. Why?” I ask, starting to fear something has happened.

“Let’s go somewhere else” she says as she takes me towards the rooms, the other girls still looking at me.

“Leah, what happened? Is my family alright?” I ask when we are finally alone on one of the corridors.

“They are fine, don’t worry. It’s not them.”

“Then?”

“It’s Chilly” she says with a big sigh, showing me her phone.

(click/tap to enlarge)

“That was fast” I say, my voice coming out almost in a whisper.

“He’s a dick, and I’m sure he knew what he was doing. There is a photo where he is looking at the camera, and then he turns as if to kiss that girl” Leah says.

I scroll through the article, looking at the photos, my throat starting to hurt as I try not to cry.

“It’s alright. We are over. He can do whatever he wants” I say, that thing on my chest coming back.

“I know. But I also know it still hurts, doesn’t it?” Leah says, coming closer. “And choosing to do it just a couple of days before your birthday... He better not cross paths with me any time soon.”

“I have to go” I say, walking away from her.

“Wait, no.”

“I have to go” I say again, crying and running away, wanting to be left alone.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━   

“Is this sit taken?” a male voice says behind me.

“Mason?” I say, turning to look at him. “What are you doing here? How did you find me?”

“Leah told me what happened, that you ran away. She couldn’t find you, so I offered to help her, and I remembered hearing you say that you liked coming here to be alone.”

“You did?”

“Yep” he says. “May I sit?”

I just nod, trying to control my sobs again.

“You can cry if you need to” he says. “I won’t tell anyone.”

“Thank you” I say.

At first he just stays there, sitting next to me while I look at the horizon and think about what an idiot I am. But as I start properly crying, I feel one of his arms around my shoulders, trying to comfort me.

“I was so stupid” I say, turning to hug him, now crying on his shoulder. “I knew the way he was, that he wasn’t looking for something serious. But I still agreed to go out with him, to actually date him. I let my guard down and started to have feelings for him, and now… Now I look like an idiot. The whole country probably thinks I am an idiot. An idiot girl who fell for a pretty boy.”

“You aren’t an idiot” Mason says to my ear, hugging me tighter.

“Aaron and Leah warned me. Many times. And what did I do?” I say, pulling away from him, our faces very close.

“You followed your heart” he says as he moves his hand to my cheek, wiping some of my tears with his thumb.

“And now it’s broken. When it was starting to mend, it is breaking again.”

“But it won’t be like that forever. It will heal. Like you just said, it had started to” he says, his hand still on my cheek.

“It’s already been broken twice. I don’t think it’ll recover from this one.”

“It will. You are a strong woman.”

I look up and meet his eyes. I don’t know what it is, but there is something on the way he is looking at me, on the gentle touch of his hand on my face, that makes me believe him.

“I believe in you” he says as if reading my mind.

“Thank you, Mason” I say, hugging him again.

“We should probably go find Leah” he says after a while, breaking our hug. “She was very worried about you.”

“Yeah” I say, getting up and trying to wipe away the last tears from my face. “How do I look?”

“Like you’ve been crying” he chuckles. “But also like someone who isn’t going to let anyone else fuck with her.”

“Good” I say, taking a deep breath.

“And there she goes, England's future captain” he smiles qs I walk past him.

“Don’t say that to Leah” I say, smiling back.

“It’ll be our secret. That, and this place” he winks, that cute dimple of his showing.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━   

“Leah, are you sure we are on time and that they didn’t change the schedule because it’s game day?” I ask her as we walk towards the canteen. “There is no one around.”

“We are in time, don’t worry” she says.

“Being late is the last thing I need” I say, letting out a big sigh.

“Please stop complaining, we won’t be late.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I know. Now just get in” she says, pointing at the canteen’s door.

“Urgh” I say, rolling my eyes.

“Surprise!” everyone says as I walk in.

“What the…” I mutter.

“Happy birthday, you idiot” Leah says, hugging me from behind and giving me a kiss on the cheek. “Cake boys!”

The crowd parts and Aaron and Mason show up carrying a big cake while everyone else sings happy birthday. I don’t know what to do, shocked that literally everyone is here. Both teams, all the staff members that work with us, the staff from St. George’s Park, the bus drivers… Literally everyone is here.

“Thank you” I finally manage to say once they’ve stopped singing, crying but smiling.

“Now you have to make a wish” Mason says, nodding towards the cake and the candles.

“Ok” I say, stopping to think for a few seconds. When I’m done blowing them all, everyone starts yelling and clapping.

“Grab your forks and plates, people! It’s time to eat!” Aaron says.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━  

I’m walking toward the bus, ready to leave for the stadium, when I hear someone calling after me.

“Birthday girl!” Mason says. “I thought I would miss you, I literally ran out of the shower.”

“I can tell” I say, pointing at his wet hair. His wet ugly hair.

“I didn’t want you to leave without giving you my present” he says, handing me a little box.

“You got me a present?” I ask.

“Of course I did!” he says. “Open it.”

I do as he says, my fingers shaking a bit. I’m nervous. Why am I nervous? Inside the little box, there is a necklace with my zodiac constelation. Gemini.

“It’s beautiful, Mason. Thank you.”

“Do you like it?” he asks.

“I do. I have others, but they aren’t like this one.”

“Great” he says. “I remembered seeing you wearing necklaces, and thought you would like it.”

“You noticed?” I ask, surprised that he has been paying attention to what I wear. First he remembered my special place, and now this.

“Yeah” he says, running a hand through his hair. Or trying to. “But you should go, I don’t want you miss the bus.”

“I’m the birthday girl, they’ll wait for me” I chuckle.

“Birthday girl, and future goal scorer.”

“You think I’ll score tonight?”

“Definitely. And we’ll celebrate later. Dec and Aaron are already getting everything ready for the party.”

“They are allowing us to have a party?”

“Only because it’s you” he smiles. “Now, go.”

“Yes, of course. Thank you, Mason” I say, giving him a kiss on the cheek before running towards the bus, the box and the necklace on my hand.

[tendouluvr]

not telling them you’re pregnant - f!reader

- fluff, sliiiight angst maybe

- characters: suna, sakusa, semi

- warnings: pregnancy (i don’t go into detail of giving birth or anything), cravings, morning sickness aka throwing up, two mention of the act of sex in semi’s, some cursing

- wc: 1.4k, 888, 946

a/n: it’s f!reader cuz pregnancy but there’s no specific pronouns/gendered terms used

also idk how suna got so long, he was the last one i wrote for bc i couldnt think of anything lmao

[2. iwaizumi, atsumu, kageyama]

SUNA

#! suna has been practicing late into the night the past few weeks

#! there’s a big game coming up and the entire team is feeling the pressure and adrenaline from the crunch time

#! you haven’t been feeling too good lately, a lot heavier and more tired than usual

#! thinking it was just stress from work and the missing presence of your boyfriend, you pushed through it and thought it would go away in the next few days

#! unfortunately, luck wasn’t on your side and you started to get sudden needs to throw up

#! it didn’t take you long to realize why your physical and mental drive have been down lately

#! you’re pregnant

#! or you believe you are

#! you bought a few tests, some of different brands so you can have a variety, and headed home to confirm your suspicion

#! a few minutes later, staring back at you was multiple positive symbols and the bolded ‘PREGNANT’s

#! taking a few deep breaths, you decided to tell suna tonight once he comes home

#! you thought it was better to let him know as soon as possible

#! it wouldn’t hurt anyone plus the faster you rip the bandaid off, the easier it’ll be to deal with it

#! so you waited

#! and waited

#! until 11pm that night, when suna finally came through the front door

#! “tarō! how was practice? can we talk?” you hurriedly greeted him

#! he was taken aback, not expecting you to be right beside him and in his ear as soon as he came in

#! of course you weren’t, you made sure to put some space in between you and him

#! but suna was stressed and tired, so everything is intensified to him at the moment

#! “can you back up?” he mumbled, pushing his way from in front of you to walk to the kitchen

#! “oh, sorry. can we talk?” you sheepishly smiled, hoping he would say yes

#! you’re not blind, you can tell that suna was tired but you really didn’t wanna put this off

#! you were just gonna tell him, he gets surprised, you both talk it out, and then go to bed and continue figuring things out tomorrow morning

#! but before any of that can happen, suna bluntly told you, “no. i’m tired. i’m sure whatever it is isn’t a big deal. can it be tomorrow? i wanna sleep.”

#! you didn’t get to answer before he was already walking away to the bedroom

#! understanding where he was coming from, you mentally agreed to talk to him tomorrow. one day wouldn’t change anything and you’ve seen plenty of people not tell their partners until a few weeks in

#! he was right, it wasn’t a big deal (yet)

#! so you waited until tomorrow

#! and waited

#! and once again, he came home late

#! “hey! can we quickly talk, babe?”

#! “i’m tired. tomorrow, okay?”

#! “oh, okay. night, rin!”

#! “g’night.”

#! night came and there was still no talk

#! this continued on for about 2 weeks, you finally choosing to not care anymore and just let him find out whenever he finds out

#! technically, you could’ve just blurted out a simple, “i’m pregnant.” any point during your nightly five seconds conversations

#! but seeing that he really was tired, springing it onto him would either put him in a full body shock for three days or he just doesn’t fully process your words until three days after

#! a month has passed, your stomach was still barely showing like most women at their one month mark

#! you decided to book an appointment for a checkup, it’ll be while suna’s at practice

#! and that doctor appointment was the exact reason suna found out

#! he was at practice when komori entered the gym

#! he had a doctor’s appointment for his annual checkup, and that’s where he saw you

#! you didn’t see komori, busy reading the directory to find your way to the right office

#! but he saw you on the way out. seeing that you looked a bit busy, he chose not to greet you and just quickly walk to his car lmao why is this funny to me

#! entering the gym, he greeted everyone and apologized for his tardiness even though it was excused

#! walking up to suna, he tapped him on the shoulder and quietly told him, “i saw yn at the hospital earlier. it’s been awhile since we all got together huh, they looked a bit different.”

#! ok so komori, being the smart person he is, deducted that you were pregnant when he saw your finger pointing at the ob/gyn office

#! and he genuinely thought suna knew so his comment was suppose to be a small joke that was meant to tease suna and his sex life

#! suna, however, was confused

#! look different? did you get surgery?

#! “what do you mean?”

#! komori rolled his eyes and gave a sweet smile at suna, “congrats you two! when were you gonna tell the rest of us?”

#! suna: 👨‍🦲 huh

#! “are you guys not pregnant?” he blinked at suna’s frozen reaction

#! suna became unresponsive so komori just walked away mumbling to himself about being sure he read the sign right

#! a loud whistle blew and it shook suna out of his daze, everyone got ready to play a practice game of 3 vs 3 while suna ran over to the coach

#! “hey coach, um i think there’s an emergency at home. can i go? ok thanks.”

#! his coach just stares after him as he sprints off, you think? is there an emergency or not?

#! suna quickly drove home, he may or may not have speed a little, and entered the apartment

#! “yn? baby?” he called out only to be greeted back with silence

#! probably still at the hospital....what were you doing there? he thought to himself while rummaging around the house to find anything that could give him somewhat of an idea

#! he was digging around in the bedroom when you came home, his head so frenzied he didn’t hear the front door open

#! but you heard the ruckus from the bedroom and immediately went into fight or flight

#! panicking, you took out your phone to call suna while quietly opening the front door to make your way back out before the intruder catches you

#! the phone rang and rang until it was picked up. “suna?” you whisper-yelled into the speaker. you had a habit of calling him by his last name when you were freaking out. he noticed and was equally alarmed

#! “what’s wrong?” he whispered back just as panicked

#! “there’s someone in our apartment. can you come home?”

#! “huh? oh, are you home?” he cackles into the phone speaker making you move the phone away from your ear, “it’s me, sweets, c’mere.”

#! you warily walked on your tiptoes over to your bedroom, peeking your head in and what a surprise, it is suna

#! “jackass! why are you home?!”

#! “why didn’t you tell me?” he cut straight to the point

#! “huh?”

#! “you’re pregnant. when were you gonna tell me?” his voice sounding stern, but the quiet smile dancing on his face tells a different story

#! “i tried.”

#! “huh? what do you mean?”

#! “all those times i asked if we could talk. i was trying to tell you.”

#! his heart dropped, eyebrows furrowing, while he stared you down

#! suna became unresponsive once again, standing there trying to think back to the first time you asked him

#! two weeks ago

#! “i’m sorry,” he quietly whispers

#! “hm? i..it’s fine....i was a bit sad, but i’m over it. at least you know now,” you casually shrugged it off like it wasn’t a big deal

#! “no. i shouldn’t have pushed you aside like that. even if you weren’t pregnant, even if you had just wanted to tell me about some stupid video you saw that day, i shouldn’t have told you off. i’m sorry, i love you a lot and you deserve so much better.”

#! “tarō, shut up. i accept your apology and i forgive you, now make it up to me by giving me a back massage while i show you the ultrasound pictures!”

#! he kisses you before lifting you up bridal style making his way to the bed

SAKUSA

#! contrary to popular beliefs, sakusa is not an obsessive germaphobe who finds everything disgusting but you

#! he wouldn’t be playing volleyball if he was that afraid of germs,,,,,

#! yes, he cringes if random little kids grab onto him after games because 1) he’s drenched in sweat and that feeling is not fun

#! 2) he doesn’t even know themmm

#! and 3) he wanna go home

#! but sakusa loves you and if you happened to get pregnant, he would love your kid(s) just the same

#! however, he never told you this. he never really had a reason to voice this out loud

#! so when you actually did get pregnant, you were confused

#! the only interactions between sakusa and kids you’ve seen multiple times were the moments between him and his fans

#! you guys have been to family parties and his nieces, nephews, and cousins looooves him

#! maybe it’s the fact that he’s a tall looming giant and they just want to climb

#! but besides those moments, you don’t recall him ever telling you upfront that he wants children of his own

#! and the constant stress and pressure he always seem to be working around also doesn’t help reassure you in any way

#! being an athlete for a living means always watching your body, health, and looks for the cameras (but omi could care less about the last thing)

#! he also has to make sure whether or not he’s working well with his teammates, practice and improve on anything he’s having problems with, and deal with atsumu’s dramatic ass

#! you’re an overthinker and because of that, all of these reasons were just reasons for you to postpone the pregnancy news to your long term boyfriend

#! it wasn’t too hard anyway, considering practice runs late sometimes and he’s busy majority of the time doing other stuff

#! when you guys do have alone time together, you both are so focused on one another that you actually forget that you’re pregnant and you never told him

#! you’re about to hit the three months mark now — time goes by fast — and sakusa has noticed you and your body changing

#! at first he just thought you were going through a phase of cravings and a bit of bloating, so he didn’t mention it and just let you be

#! he never got to witness you getting morning sickness because he goes on early runs or he was just out doing morning errands so he wouldn’t have to deal with it later that day

#! so when he caught you in the kitchen cutting up a lemon, the last thing he was expecting you to do was bring the lemon directly up to your mouth

#! “uh, what are you doing?” his deep voice caught you off guard, effectively stopping the hand that was holding the lemon

#! you just stare at him, not wide-eyed, not surprised, just stare

#! “eating a lemon.”

#! “i can see that.... why exactly?”

#! “dunno, the baby i guess.” you casually shrugged it off before popping the lemon slice into your mouth

#! “ah-,” he opened his mouth to stop you from eating the lemon, your words not fully processing in his mind, but cut off midway and froze when he finally realized

#! hearing him pause like that made you suddenly remembered that you never told him you were pregnant

#! you slowly turned back to look at him, mouth still slowly chewing the lemon slices

#! a moment of silence later, he unfreezes and just starts stiffly walking towards you

#! he grabbed you by the shoulders, made you look him in the eyes, before whispering, “you’re pregnant?!”

#! “y-yes..”

#! his eyes were wide, black pupils expanding as he stared you down, his lips slowly curving into a small smile

#! “you’re pregnant....,” he whispers, mainly to himself, hugging your head into his chest

#! “mhm, get off me i’m trying to eat,” you gently pushed him off but he wouldn’t budge

#! “omiiii please, if you get off i’ll give you a slice,” you tried bribing him. he couldn’t tell if you were being serious or just teasing

#! “no.”

#! “um ok, two slices?”

#! “no.”

#! “omi!”

#! he giggles before opening his arms to let you go

#! “why didn’t you tell me?”

#! you didn’t reply right away, making him start to overthink

#! did you not want the baby? or did you not want a kid with him? did you not want to be with him anymore? or was it not his?!

#! he childishly shakes his head side to side at the last question. he knew you wouldn’t do that

#! but you were still silent, making him nervously glance at you from the side

#! “sorry, piece of lemon stuck in my teeth. i just forgot to tell you,” the words easily flowing out of your mouth nonchalantly

#! sakusa’s fingers were literally about to start twitching from anxiousness beside you

#! a sigh of relief was heard from him and you turned to look at him

#! “you okay?”

#! he doesn’t answer, just gives you a smile and goes back to hugging you from behind

SEMI

#! you were currently sitting on the couch in your shared apartment waiting for semi to come home

#! he’s been on tour for a few months now, you both kept in touch by facetiming, texting, calling, and any other methods of virtual communication

#! you would tune into the live recording of all of his performances when you had time so you could watch him

#! a few weeks into tour, you suddenly felt different than usual but shook it off as nothing and probably just you missing your boyfriend

#! you believed that until one morning you were woken up by the sudden urge to throw up, dashing to the restroom as fast as your drowsy body can go

#! it was then that you realized you might be pregnant

#! the night before semi left, you both had sex to enjoy your last few hours together before he had to leave for a few months

#! with the new realization, you quickly dressed yourself to make a short trip to the store to pick up some tests

#! after half an hour of looking at yourself in the mirror, trying to wrap your head around this, you finally opened the first box

#! a few minutes later, all 5 tests were lined up on the bathroom counter showing positive

#! you stared at the tests, trying to make sure you weren’t reading it wrong

#! once you began to understand the responsibility of being pregnant a few hours later, you made a mental note to go out and buy some food for yourself the next day

#! you decided to sleep off the rest of that day

#! through all of the facetime calls with semi, you never once told him you were pregnant

#! you knew that if you told him he would freak out and either demand to go back home, or stay but all of his attention would be on you being pregnant alone at home for the rest of the tour

#! so here you are now, sitting with a 4 1/2 months baby bump waiting for your beloved to come home

#! it was around 6pm when the front door opened, sounds of shuffling bags and heavy steps could be heard from the musician

#! he cursed under his breath when he almost tripped over a duffle bag with some of his loungewear, calling out for you as he walks further into the apartment, “baby? i’m home!”

#! he was about to speak up again when he saw you asleep on the couch

#! bouncing his way over, he got onto his knees at the edge of the couch to observe your face. god i miss you, he thought to himself

#! he gently shakes you awake, you jolted in surprise not knowing you fell asleep in the first place

#! “hmm- what?,” soft murmurs falling from your lips as you adjusted your eyes at your surrounding

#! “eita!” he grinned at you, both of you pulling each other into a hug

#! “fuck, i miss you so much.” he whispered into your ears before placing his face into your neck

#! “i miss you more.” you tightened your grip around him making him move up on the couch to get more comfortable

#! you both moved around until he had you cradled in between him, your back against his chest

#! his hands going under your his shirt to caress you there when his movements stopped right on top of your stomach

#! it was silent as his warm hands rubbed your stomach in circles, the gears turning in his head

#! “are you- you feel- why’s your tum so round and hard?” he quizzically asked, still rubbing your stomach

#! “pregnant.” your voice a low whisper, he almost didn’t catch it

#! “what?”

#! “pregnant.” you repeated, a bit louder this time

#! “huh?”

#! “pregnant!” you sighed, moving his hand so you can get off of him

#! he grabs your wrist to stop you from walking away and turns you to look at him

#! “you’re pregnant?!”

#! “i just said that. yes.”

#! you knew you sounded blunt and a bit mean, it wasn’t his fault he doesn’t know at all, but your hormones have been making you crankier and it’s out of your control

#! “sorry. yes, i’m pregnant.”

#! his eyes continuously darts up and down from your eyes to your bump

#! “how long?”

#! “since you left.”

#! “was it the night before?” he was referring to your act of intimacy the night before he left

#! “yea.”

#! “wow. why didn’t you tell me?”

#! “because.”

#! “‘cuz what?”

#! “because i know you. you would either stop touring and come home, or stay but lose focus. i was just trying to not distract you because i know how important your career is to you. and because i thought that you’ll be having a six months break after this tour before your next comeback, i would tell you when you came home. i’m sorry if you’re ma-,”

#! “i’m not mad. oh don’t cry, babe, look at me.”he carefully cups your face, “it’s okay, it’s okay. i get why you kept it from me. and now that i have no schedule for the next six months, i can be there for you until the end of your pregnancy and the beginning of our baby’s life alright?”

#! you weakly nodded against his palms, and he brings you back down to lay your head on his chest as you both softly talk about the past months without each other

[bemylord]

being their girlfriend/dating them

or they're as your boyfriend

character: sukuna, itadori, nanami, satoru, megumi.

warnings: fluff to smut hdc, curse words, kinda rough and soft boys + sukuna.

note: or they're as your boyfriend/dating them

ꜱᴜᴋᴜɴᴀ ʀʏᴏᴍᴇɴ

i don't think he'd call it relationship or love. just the bond that binding you're together. he also doesn't talkative a lot, he prefers to show you his feelings in actions.

as long as itadori is searching fingers, you'll exist in his domain, being the slave and queen in one time. he'd praising and teach you new techniques, but also may use your body as he wants it.

praising to the degradation - generally, nothing new. if you had been bad either you did something on purpose, there will be no mercy for your body and throat - the king knows the way to punish you.

the cute thing is when you are exhausted from the little practice sukuna does in his small domain: breath had been taken away and your body is sweating. all you want is a little break to catch your breath. despite his selfish and demolished nature, he gives you some time in his lap to debilitate your sluggish body. your arms are wrapping around sukuna's neck by accident - it may seem he doesn't give a damn about it, but he pulls you by the waist, put your head on his athletic chest, and have you in arms 'till you'll wake up.

'you are too weak, brat, more energy, put more fury on me, or did you forgotten that i'm the fucking king of this world?' he laughed, knocking off your attacks. he's got a god complex and perfection. 'i'm getting stronger each second, sukuna, don't make yourself as a god'

you are the one he lets talk like that. being tremendously gentle with you is hard for him - he still being rough and could inflict damage, although, after pain, the king will take affection aftercare. but don't think he would murmur some sweat stuff in your ears, just spooning you is enough.

ꜱᴀᴛᴏʀᴜ ɢᴏᴊᴏ

master of the aftercare. sensei of the smooch and teacher of how to cuddle a person. he's good at those things. you never complain of how warm and strong satoru's arms wrapping your waist and his lips are kissing the back of your neck. after rough sex gojo would make an apology with soft kisses all over your figure.

cute fights in the kitchen while cooking. satoru is very needy and sometimes, he could be clingy for your attention, trying to get it whenever he wants to feel your body. even fight doesn't stop him - gojo would fight back and hitting on you.

show everyone that you're taken by him by marks he left on your soft skin last night. satoru would give you an order to dressing a shirt which will show his label on your body - wanna get a punishment? disobey the order; sure, later, you will regret it. however, it will be somewhere in the future, so you do mind disobey him?

whisper on his ear how long you've been craving for his fat dick in your dripping pussy and satoru would stop everything he did later, just to bury his cock deep into you, feeling the outlining of his member in your stomach. it's driving him insane when his fat dick rearranging your insides. no words could describe emotions in his soul when you're scratching his back whilst satoru is doing the pulsative movements inside you. 'does it feel good, kitten, doesn't it? feeling my cock in your little tummy, my god.. put your hand on the lower abs to perceive it' 'satoru~, i-i won't take any longer, give me that~' how could he disobey the order of his little angel?

gojo would degrade you only you've got the bad attitude. at other times - you may hear as he repeats the words 'you're so fucking amazing, kitten' he's hazing at the throbbing feeling in his cock you've been giving him.

ɪᴛᴀᴅᴏʀɪ ʏᴜᴊɪ

he's so much loves to play games and dancing with you when he has the time to do that - you'll play all games he bought for those evenings when both of you are playing fools and being kids. he may act like a kid around you, but trust me, he isn't good while railing you.

there's no door named exit while he's eating your out. yuji will apologize for not being close when you want to cuddle him or smack your lips against his. his apologies are mostly his head between your legs and his fingers in your cunt, stretching your walls, preparing you for the night. he makes sure you're enough dripping for his throbbing cock. it gives me a vibe that he'll overstimulated your little clit only with his tongue.

having you in missionary position, leaving the half-moon on your hips, unquenchably fucking your overdose cunt filled up with your juices. but you know itadori adores when you're squirting on his dick, shuddering while giving the huge release. 'that's right, beautiful, give your daddy all juices you've got' his words make you squirt one more time when he's finishing on your chest. quick series of spanking on your cunt and you're melting definitively by him.

but most of the time, you're both doing silly stuff that bothering megumi a lot. actually, you've got a game 'who's bothered megumi first'. it's fun to watch how he's activating shikigami dogs. you're idiots, although happy idiots.

ɴᴀɴᴀᴍɪ ᴋᴇɴᴛᴏ

daddy issues. daddy vibes and daddy chill. you've got no choice but to obey every order he told you to do. no way to escape and no way not being fucked to him if you did have time to do his tasks. his big and strong hands pulling your hair back, so you arch your back, feeling his breath in your ear. scream as loud as you can, 'till you reach the high note you could - he won't stop it.

sweat aftercare in the shower where nanami is washing your hair for you, also massaging your shoulders and kissing your stomach sort of excuses for being too extremely rough with you. but you knew he won't be soft, the language of his sex life is rough and painful. but the aftercare is worth having bruises the next morning around your neck.

nanami is an obsessive and dominant lover, he would mark you as his baby girl, his property, and the woman he's seeing his future with. even if you've got powerful and strong abilities nanami still doesn't allow you to battle the curse. think whatever you want to - he doesn't like the thought of having your dead body in his arms. he doesn't like the thought his small girl would have injuries from the demon.

nanami will show his love in action rather than words. you've got an unspoken rule to kiss your partner when they're tired of the work or giving a good morning/goodnight kiss. even if you're sleeping, nanami kisses your forehead before going to work. nothing could stop him from the morning kiss. you baked warm goods before he returns from the office or battle tired and having no strength. he fucking loves your baked bun.

after work, you make a warm bath for him, where he can loosen his body, burying his face in your hair. 'sweetie, i love you so much, so-so-so much. with you i can enervate myself and get lost in your smell, wrapping arms around your waist, feeling like it's my private heaven'

ᴍᴇɢᴜᴍɪ ꜰᴜꜱʜɪɢᴜʀᴏ

i've got a feeling he'd be an overprotective boyfriend. doesn't leave you alone with itadori for the reason he's a vessel for sukuna - don't treat him weird, he trusts itadori, but not sukuna. doesn't like when you interrupting his battle using your abilities because it's making him think about implications.

doesn't show his affection among other students because doesn't like being called a clingy or needy puppy. nevertheless, pulling you closer by your waist to show everyone to fuck away from you. megumi would not hesitate to kiss you with a tongue in front of the students to show them you're taken and your man is crazy.

megumi is more like a homeboy. every time you're alone or having time to spend together, you'll be stuck in his arms 'till you both need to go back to the sorcerer-life. cuddling and smooching are his life - in the bathroom, while you're cooking, watching tv-shows, he's arms around your body, therefore megumi is telling sweet nothings in your ear.

sex life with megumi? complicated question. would be bad and good simultaneously. i still have a thought he'd tied you up and use a flogger on your booty for spanking and preparing your pussy for his dick - it was passed on by his genes [wtf his father omg]. makes you squirt a couple of times, also makes you beg for his fat cock before pull it inside unexpectedly. using a collar with a chain to arch your back 'till it crunches and you moaned because megumi literally choking you.

only god knows how much megumi has kinks for you. how much energy he has to rail you all night and be able to continue that after the sun is illumining the room. 'you're dirty little slut, the rays of the sun in our room, and you still have the energy to squirt' degrading you during coitus and praising you in his muscular arms after.

//~~//

fuck. i was planning to post kuroo x reader x kenma but i deleted my work [by fucking accident i hate myself] that i had been writing since morning. sooo, I'll post it tomorrow. so sorry for the grammar mistake i was writing it on my phone.