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merakiui · 2 months ago

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the symptoms of being human.

jade leech x (gender neutral) reader note - being human comes with its fair share of very specific symptoms. or: jade has lived in saltwater his entire life. never has it leaked out of him before. // HAPPIEST OF BIRTHDAYS TO MY BIRTHDAY BESTIE @heyyy11!!!!!! 🎉 many wonderful wishes of health, happiness, and good fortune for you!!!! :D it isn't a lot, but please enjoy this little gift i prepared in celebration!!!

But a mermaid has no tears, and therefore she suffers so much more.

A long time ago, a human penned that line in reference to merfolk and their inability to shed tears. A fact as intimate as that couldn’t have possibly been common knowledge amongst humans, or so Jade assumed every time the story was regurgitated at bedtime. He always did that: apply logic to areas where logic wasn’t needed. His teachers used to tell him, “Jade, sometimes you need to suspend your disbelief in order to immerse yourself in a fictional world.” He could try—and try he did—but he’d find himself lingering on that quote every time.

A slight amendment to that: merfolk can cry and they do suffer, but whether they suffer more is impossible to know without further study.

Jade operates under the notion that there are explanations for everything, even the wildest of lunacy. There is comfort in comprehension. He would spend hours holed up in his sleeping nook, poring over stories and texts on humans and beastfolk. He would compare and contrast them. Can a tearless cry indicate the amount of suffering per species, or is such an abstract concept even remotely quantifiable? Perhaps it is because merfolk cry silently that they suffer. Because there is no one who can hear their weeping in the deep sea. Because there is no physical proof.

It’s easier to recognize the physical signs of grief, for what happens within is shrouded in secrecy, veiled in the depths of the heart.

So when Jade comes onto land for the first time, human skin stretched over a skeleton altered with a potion, every inch awkward and aching, the sea leaks out of his pores. He feels like a pufferfish not yet expanded but on the verge of bloating, deflated and weak, salt still spilling. And he knows it’s salt because he swipes two fingers under his armpit and brings them to his mouth to taste. It’s saltwater.

He later learns, while sitting in Professor Crewel’s class and listening to him drone on about anatomy, that this is the phenomenon known as sweating. Jade sweats when he exerts himself, when his body temperature rises degrees over what’s internally comfortable and he needs to cool down, when he ingests something spicy, when he’s sick with a fever, when he’s stressed… It’s a fascinating facet of human biology he was previously unaware of.

Azul called these peculiarities “symptoms of being human,” and what intriguing symptoms they are! He hopes to experience even more as he completes his education on land, regardless of how troublesome they might be.

Having a symptom of something implies the affected is ill in some way—as if humanity itself is an illness and this human body serves as more of a hindrance than help. Jade will forever be an eel merman, and this body is just a clever cloak crafted to make his life on land habitable. Although there are moments where he thinks his original form would suit a certain task. Like swimming or any sport in the water, really. But he likes to struggle and fail, learning from every human mistake.

These symptoms are not terrible. Not to him, at least.

He meets you in the woods. You’re hunched over the ground, patting a compact lump of freshly disturbed soil. A burial, he thinks, but then he’s not certain. When you fashion a little marker out of sticks and ribbons, it occurs to him that he was right.

“Hello to you, too,” you say, turning to glance at him.

There’s something that stills in the air. A feeling catches and tugs at his heart. He can’t explain it—still can’t even to this day—but something trickles out of his eyes then. A droplet of water and then another and then more until silent streams are falling thick. He blinks until his once-blurry vision clears, only to find you’re looking at him fully now.

Jade gathers the wetness on his fingertips and licks curiously. Salt.

Horrifyingly, he’s sweating from his eyes.

He doesn’t panic. A grotesque part of him wants to know what else these eyes are capable of in this body.

You draw in breath through your lips. A gasp. “Oh! Are you all right?”

He nods because even if his brain doesn’t understand it yet his heart does.

You are the person he’s going to spend the rest of his life with.

This isn’t fiction, and he doesn’t have to pretend to accept it as his temporary reality just to enjoy the story it promises. He knows. His heart—the eel-mer heart—knows. This salt is a symptom of being human, but a symptom of being a mer is that there is the strongest sixth sense for finding one’s other half.

“Are you sure?” you press, rising to your feet, digging through your bag for tissue. “You’re crying!”

He blinks back at you. I’m…crying.

He’s not sweating. He’s crying.

“Forgive me,” he says even though he knows there’s nothing to apologize for. “My eyes must not be working today.”

A sympathetic smile spreads on your face. “Did you come here with anyone?”

He shakes his head and explains rather simply that he’s come on account of club business. “I’m the only member in my club,” he elaborates unnecessarily, “and so I often come here to hike and forage. I suppose I wasn’t expecting to run into anyone on this route.”

“Club? You’re a student?” Before he has a chance to respond, you add, “No way! What school? I’m from Royal Sword.”

“Night Raven.”

“Whoa! That’s so cool. I’ve heard lots about that school. Oh, sorry, I’m totally chatting your ear off. If it’s not an issue, would you like to walk back together? Don’t take this the wrong way. I’m just worried about you.”

The affable conversation was so smooth Jade almost forgot he’s been leaking—crying—the entire time.

“Why would you be worried? I assure you there’s nothing in this forest that could harm me,” he says, holding a hand over his heart.

As if it isn’t the woods that might hurt him but, rather, the person standing in front of him. He has never felt any need to protect his heart, but now he thinks he must. If he’s to offer it to you in the future, he wants to do so when it is perfectly whole and packed full of happiness.

“Um… Well, I just don’t want you to do anything…harmful,” you say, stringing the words together awkwardly. “People care about you. They’d miss you.”

He glances past you at the burial. Just above, a nest of baby birds chirp noisily. He understands now.

“As it happens, I’m currently quite content.”

“You are?”

He tilts his head at you and smiles, teary-eyed and most likely red in the face.

“I am. Very much so. I’ve experienced another human symptom. I couldn’t be any happier.”

You exhale a quiet, semi-amused breath. “I’m glad.” Your hand is held out next. “I’m (Name). It’s nice to meet you.”

His webless, clawless hand closes around yours. “Jade Leech,” he greets.

— — —

“You look good,” Floyd compliments, watching Jade fuss over himself in the mirror. “Shrimpy’ll think so. And Mama. Pops, too.”

“So everyone,” he replies smartly, his hands shaking as he smooths the nonexistent wrinkles in his suit. They reach for the jewelry strung around his neck. He’s wearing his mother’s pearls. Tradition and memory are twined throughout each one. For every hand that holds this chain, a new pearl will be added. It has been in his family for ages. After today, he’ll add his and the necklace will be a pearl longer.

He feels like he needs to pace up and down a mountain. Like he needs to strip this seaweed-esque suit off and jump into the ocean to feel free of constriction. Clothes are always so…unique. That’s the word he chooses to use. Another symptom, he’s certain, because clothes are to humans as colors are to merfolk. Humans attract each other with fashion styles just as mers flash colors and patterns at those they intend to charm.

“Everyone,” Floyd echoes, grinning to ease the tension. “C’mon. You know everything’s gonna be fine.”

Logically, Jade is aware of that. There were rehearsals and lists and triple-checks. Everything is in order. He’s ready. You’re ready. Illogically, he thinks he’s about to shake out of his skin from either excitement or anxiety or a combination of both.

Floyd’s hand comes down upon his shoulder. He relaxes beneath the squeeze. “You got this.”

“I do,” he whispers, turning away from the mirror with a smile.

He waits for you at the altar. A feeling he knows well enough claws at the back of his eyes. It’s been steadily encroaching since this morning, or perhaps it’s always been there ever since he first met you.

When he sees you, his world comes together and everything is warm and wonderful. There are tears on his face, tracking down his cheeks in hot streaks. It’s not embarrassing even though, somewhat flustered, he mouths to his parents that he’s simply sweating from the eyes. A symptom they’ll soon experience in their temporary human bodies.

Out of every human symptom he’s experienced, he thinks this one is his favorite.

You meet him at the front, and beneath an awning of the prettiest flowers you join hands.

“How do you feel?” you murmur, your thumbs running over his palms.

He’s going to say he feels like his world is brighter and wrapped in silk—like he’s looking love right in the face.

Through his tears, he smiles and says, “Like my eyes are working properly today.”

You giggle around a rising sob. Happy tears, he notes, much like the ones sticking to his face. “Weird. Because mine don’t seem to be working today.”

“A shame. You can’t see how beautiful you are.”

“I trust you.”

“I can’t promise mine won’t sweat halfway through the ceremony, but I appreciate your faith in me.”

“It’s fine. Mine are already doing that.”

And it’s everything to him—you, this union, the tears, these messy, complex symptoms of being human. Everything.

Jade thinks he’d like to rewrite that old quote from his childhood.

But a mermaid has no tears and so that may be true in storybook blue, but it is her heart that weeps for everything she has experienced, is experiencing, and will experience; the good and the bad, the happy and the sad.

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #jade leech x reader #jade x reader

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mebis-reblogs · 4 months ago

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I'm not against fanon but I think "scavengers are ruled by strength and the chieftain gets its title through being the strongest" is a misunderstanding of what we see ingame

The chieftain passage is obtained by getting high enough reputation amongst them, and that reputation is obtained mainly by trade but also by fighting alongside them:

It is obtained by helping them out, by being a helpful ally;

If anything, their community is a meritocracy;

The chieftain we fight as artificer could've probably been the one to open metropolis for all of them, given that they have a citizenship drone, which would mean it effectively contributed this whole city of resources to the community, that gotta be worth at least like, a hundred pearls dude;

Stronger individuals have more capability to contribute more, so an overlap is prone to happen;

But if you're a hindrance to them, you'll lose reputation and no longer be fit of chieftain;

Artificer cannot get the chieftain passage;

The scavengers will never acknowledge her;

Even when defeating their chieftain, they attack artificer regardless; what we see after the ending is not scavengers being subservient, is them being scared, understanding they can't bring her down: you're not king of the lizards for sporting a vulture mask, you're just proving yourself to be too much of a threat

Now, I might just be stating the obvious with all this, but just wanted to put it out here

#rain world #rw #rain world spoilers #rw spoilers #rw downpour #rain world downpour #rw downpour spoilers #rain world downpour spoilers #rw artificer #rain world artificer #rain world artificer spoilers #rw artificer spoilers #rw scavenger #rain world scavenger #scavenger chieftain #rw chieftain #rain world chieftain

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ultimate-chickennougat · 10 months ago

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| Shut up for me, love, | (part 2)

Part 1 (finding out you're pregnant w/Megumi)

Toji Fushiguro x Wife!Reader

Toji can't help but love you and your baby bump!

Word Count: 1.6k

CW: SFW, domestic fluff, Toji has a job, slightly suggestive, lots of pregnancy (mentions symptoms)

A/n: This has generated so many pregnancy fic ideas...

Your husband, Toji, had been a great help through the first trimester of your pregnancy. He was always giving you massages, bringing you water and snacks, and spending lots of quality time with you, among other things, and you were very grateful for it all.

Many changes were going on throughout your pregnancy, as to be expected now in your second trimester. While the morning sickness was now gone, there was a number of new troubles you could note. Most importantly, the bump.

For the most part it was a blessing, even when it caused a number of effects, such as walking differently and feeling a rather strange weight on your hips, something you hadn’t dealt with beforehand. It was proof of a growing baby, and both you and Toji couldn’t be more happy about it. Instead, the effects it had on your husband were the real concerns.

When you were starting to show, your husband couldn’t stop taking pictures of you. It was quite out of the ordinary for Toji, who rarely ever customized anything on his phone or computer, when he finally took it upon himself to learn such things, pasting your image everywhere he could. His new favorite pastime during breaks at work was scrolling through his pictures of you (some of which were taken in the last 5 hours), saving them in a special folder and smiling to himself.

Your pregnancy in general made him clingy. Along with the pictures, he cut his hours at work and stayed home to assist you, which was appreciated but put a hindrance in your housework. Toji would stand around watching you do everything from unloading the dishwasher to changing the sheets on the bed, leaning against the wall as he tried to lock eyes much to your dismay.

Fully confident in your ability to do such things, he still found himself keeping a much closer eye on you, only comforted when he was in the same house and could hear, if not see, you. Toji had already began to realize this himself, that it wasn’t an increase in safety concern that caused his behavior. While he always wanted to have eyes on you, to make sure you were out of harm’s way regardless of your pregnancy, there was something he missed so much when he was away from you.

Watching you cover your swollen tummy with a nightgown, one he picked out specially for you on a shopping trip. It sinched in high, right above the bump that was evident and growing larger each day. Seeing the light apprehension you had when bending down to pick things up, and hearing the compliments your friends gave you whenever they saw you, asking how the baby was coming along. Little things were a constant, and appreciated reminder for him that the two of you were building your family together. Something he loved more than anything.

Because of this, your husband stopped doing his regular outings all together. Usually he would go out to watch sports and drink with his friends at least once a week or so. Him being gone gave you more time without him interrupting your chores, and he was careful with you in mind. But this new Toji, that was a soon-to-be father, figured he could just watch the game on the TV and didn’t need to go out anymore despite your protests.

“It would save us money, we should be saving up for the nursery,” Toji argued, sitting down on the couch. “I know, honey, but…,” you tried to explain to him, just how annoying he had been. Staring at you all the time, offering you a hand for every minuscule task the moment you had any difficulty with it. Reaching up ahead of you to the top cabinet and grabbing the bowl you were trying to get, when there was a stepping stool right next to you.

It made you embarrassed, really. His eyes always so sharp, the way he looked at you every time you mistakenly fell into his trap, breaking your three minute personal best at ignoring him properly. Your cheeks heated up each time, scoffing a little as you turned back to the dirty dishes in the sink. It was truly bothersome (in some ways more than others).

And so, it led to his great discovery of at-home sports streaming. Toji was sprawled out on the loveseat everyday, after he got home from work. Carefully using up his extra home hours, after you persistently told him to give you some space.

While Toji enjoyed his free time, you, on the other hand, were doing laundry. The warmth of a fresh dry load, coupled with the absence of breathing down your neck, allowed you to relax for a brief moment. You piled all the clothes into a large basket, making your way down the hallway to the living room, where you usually folded it.

Except… Toji was there. You turned around, hearing the voice of a dull commentator surely explaining something interesting, though what it was you didn’t know. Your house didn’t have too many rooms, and usually the bedroom or even the laundry room would work just fine for folding… if you could bend down well enough. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, your feet barely touched the floor from how high up it was. Bending down over the bump was impossible to do comfortably, and the task could only be done at all if you leaned down to the side and awkwardly grabbed at the basket below while maintaining your balance.

After a few more attempts, you figured out that there wasn’t enough room on the floor and sitting like that wasn’t very comfortable for long periods of time either. You were reminded why the living room had been your favorite for doing this task, the couch was low enough and comfortable to sit on, with space for folded clothes on the side.

Holding the basket with two hands, you stood in the hallway watching around the corner to observe your husband’s movements. Toji was lounging comfortably, with one arm laid across the top of the couch. His legs were spread wide, covering most of the seating area. If the game was almost over, there would be no reason to ask him to move… or so you thought.

The two of you were in reverse positions, your eyes almost trying to lock with his as you admired them from afar, your original mission forgotten as he stared intently at the screen and rubbed the tiredness from his face. Now unlike you, he found your gaze to be rather relaxing, enjoying it before you would inevitably make your move. His chuckle didn’t come from the commercial on the screen, but from you, who was still standing there after 10 minutes, greatly struggling to hold the basket which was feeling extremely heavy.

Setting it down would make a noise, so you finally decided to give up on finding some kind of good time to interject. “Is the game almost over?” You asked meekly, setting the basket down in the middle of the floor. “10 minutes, about,” he replied, still staring at the screen. You huffed under your breath, unsure of what to say. To that, Toji smirked to himself. He knew exactly what you wanted, and was very much prepared to give it to you… but why not have some fun with it?

“Need a little help?” He asked while you walked a bit closer in curiosity. “My wife doesn’t know what she wants, it’s my duty to give her some guidance…” he finally tilted his head towards you, though he had been ignoring the screen since you arrived. “C’mere… lil’ closer…” he motioned at you, as you looked at him confused.

It only took him a second to stand up and move behind you, throwing his arms underneath your legs and back, carrying you to the couch with him. He settled you down between his legs, his body back how it was before like nothing had even happened.

“It’s more comfortable with that bump, hmm?” he asked, already knowing the answer. “I still have to have room to do the laundry, Toji…” he chuckled, moving his legs closer together so you could feel them squishing your thighs. “That better?” you turned your head to blushing smile on your face.

Toji grabbed the remote while you dragged the basket closer with your foot, still trapped between him. “But there’s only 10 minutes,” you watched as he changed the channel to a show you liked. “I’m gonna lose anyway, what does it matter,” he muttered. “I thought you said you stopped doing that!” you scoffed, looking back at your husband who rolled his eyes. “It’s five bucks, a work thing people are doing,” you shook your head in disapproval.

As you relaxed into his lap, you got to folding. Part of the enjoyment you felt was due to your husband, softly rubbing your back and occasionally playing with your hair as you got to work. “I’m surprised you didn’t try to kiss me,” you frowned facing the TV, though Toji could still sense your disappointment. “That’s your reward for getting this done - I’m gettin’ pretty hungry…” he continued his massage, but wrapped his arms around your waist to hold your belly. You would make dinner after you finished.

“It feels good Toji, thank you,” you sunk back enjoying the feeling. “You deserve it, you’re doin’ so good, my wife,” a blush crept onto your face again from his words. “Was gonna ask you for a date night sometime anyway,” he mentioned, “and there’s no time like the present.” Toji gave you a quick kiss on the cheek. “So just stay nice… and… still…” he smirked. “Once you’re done, we have the whole night ahead of us.”

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x reader #toji fushiguro #toji zenin #jjk toji #toji fushiguro x reader #toji zenin x reader #toji x reader #toji x you #toji fluff #toji fushiguro x you #jujutsu kaisen toji #fushiguro toji #fushiguro toji x reader

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semischarmed · 1 year ago

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Thread

Don’t blame me for this one, you guys voted for something diabolical.

= = = = =

The references were esoteric. In fact, I had to hide my true research from the university, under the guise of reclassifying “ritualistic” items. The irony did not escape me. I was actually looking to access a “ritualistic” item that was classified as mundane.

Legends spoke of a god of flesh. One that manipulates the body as one would manipulate clay. Its name has long since been lost to time, but there are echoes of his work in the myths of old. We often hear of a creator god shaping man from the earth, of half-human hybrids and giants and other such peculiarities. Glimpses of this god of flesh. I had only read into such a figure from a blog by happenstance. A miracle of probability.

I eyed the needle, now in my hand. It was unassuming but carried a supernatural weight to it, like the weight of time immemorial. I grinned, practically moaned as I pricked my finger with the needle.

I expected some sort of magical fanfare, maybe a gust of wind but found none. I stared at my hands and then I noticed it. My hands. My flesh. I could feel all of it. I stared intently as I pinched the skin above my finger, I willed the pleat to hold its shape and smiled. I was ready.

- - - -

I thought through the myths, now partial realities in my head. Though I felt myself brim with power, I knew the drawbacks- there had to be a reason the myths had not made it to present day. The answer appeared in my head. There is only so much one man can do, and being giftedoften made one a target. A word echoed in my head. “Protection”. That did seem to match my records. Humans of old would change their flesh to be stronger, more resilient, adapting to every circumstance thrown at them. But the weakness persisted. One prick to channel the same power as the god of flesh, and another prick locks you from that power again. I smiled to myself. I just needed to get… creative.

Joey Cooper was well-known around the college. A fifth year senior majoring in Sport Science. Not the sharpest tool in the shed, but he always meant well. He had an air of confidence to him that often aided his statuesque form. Despite this, something else drew my interest even further. His unattainability. The man was often called by his nickname “old faithful,” having been in a relationship with his girlfriend Britney for as long as any can remember. Guys and girls from all walks of life have tried to tempt “Juicy Joe” (A nickname he wasn’t aware of). None of have succeeded.

And then there was Charlie Cooper, his younger brother, a freshman with the face of an angel. He had unattainability in a different sense. Kind eyes and gentle curly locks framed a face that often wore a worried expression. Unlike his brother, he was timid, and a bit reserved. He had a lack of confidence that seemed to be a hindrance to his social life. Charlie would often shied away from conversation, despite others regularly visiting his dorm. Charlie roomed with Joey in the school dorms, a rarity for this campus. I overheard a conversation with Charlie once on this oddity. Beneath his unintelligible mumbling he mentioned something about being “faithful to Brit” and getting Charlie “out of his shell”.

I bit my lip thinking about the prospects.

— - - - - -

“Oh hey Joey!” I waved casually as I approached a Joey returning to his dorm room, face flush and covered in a sheen. He must have just come from the gym. He was consistent with his workouts, so it was no surprise he would still be in campus after finals to get one last pump in.

“Hey dude! Uh, sorry I don’t remember names to well”. He replied back in a friendly manner. I shook my head at that.

“No need to apologize. I don’t think we’ve ever formally met.” He looked back at me expectantly, hand outstretched to greet. I shook it as I continued. “My name’s gonna be Joey too”. He nodded and smiled politely but the man’s face couldn’t hide his visible confusion.

I clung onto the lack of rejection on Joey’s part as an invitation for myself. As he continued into his room, I followed, allowing the door to close behind us. The silence from the near empty dorm was deafening. He turned around, again making a polite smile. “Uh hey again… Joey… can I help you?”

I dropped all pretense, rushing to his bed and taking a whiff. “Fuck dude, you smell so hot”. Everything in the room carried a small sample of his scent. Like a gentle sweaty musk overlaid with his detergent. I looked to the sweaty Joey, inching closer and taking a whiff of his fresh personal scent. Divine. I felt my jaw unlock in a small moan. His post workout scent was like a concentrate of the pleasant musk I smelled before. Like raw testosterone and shallow breaths, and a hint of earthiness that exuded power. Juicy Joe. I was drunk on the scent, mind transfixed, until I caught him staring. He was starting to get upset.

“Hey bro, you should probably lea-“ He froze as he saw me extend a nerve out of my hand, like a red root outstretched into the air. “The fuck?”

He began stepping back but as soon as my nerve landed on his arm, he struggled back into stillness. I smiled in euphoria as I felt every individual root of my vein burrow into his skin and connect with his. Checkmate. He watched as more and more of my nerve rooted into his flesh, screaming as he felt the violation to his sense of touch.

“No one can hear you bro, it’s after finals, remember?” I twirled the needle in front of him before setting it on the table. “Can’t have you taking a shower and removing your natural cologne”. Joey was still frozen as he saw me begin to undress. Juicy Joe had a body brimming with power, and I knew it would burst at any moment. I took care as I undressed, rooting and unrooting my nerves, and making sure to always keep at least one red thread of control on him at all times.

Joey glared as he saw me finish placing my clothes in a neat pile on the floor. “Your turn”.

“What the fuck dude!? What makes you think-“ He was cut off as the red strings bridging our flesh began to writhe. In turn, he felt his meaty arms begin to move, and pull down his compression shorts. The feeling was altogether unfamiliar, as he felt his own flesh betray him and move to my will. I willed him to hand me the soaked shorts. Even with the power of the god of flesh on my side, I could feel Joey struggling for control through sheer willpower alone. I laughed a little in my head. There are other ways to break a man.

I brought his heavenly scented shorts up to my face, gorging myself on the potent raw musk of man. Like a pungent blast of earth and humidity and testosterone. A Joey-concentrate. I could practically feel the potency of it clawing at my nostrils. A sweat-laden Joey reeked in the best way. I must have been lost in pleasure, because my eyes refocused to his pleading face. “P-please man, just stop whatever this is. What do you want?”

I laughed. “Isn’t it obvious? It’s you. I want you. Every part of you.”

A few more nerves shot from my legs, and directly into his. With some new tethers in place, I pulled the threads connecting my arms to his, and quickly slipped under his sweaty workout shirt. I clung to his muscled chest for dear life. ‘Bless these stretchy workout shirts,’ I thought to myself. I felt along the ridges of his spine, across his shoulders which screamed power, and with my hands, I greedily caressed the flesh previously only touched by Britney. I gripped our embrace tighter. Joey was screaming and writhing, soaking the shirt further and my body in his struggle. I moaned as he screamed, as every turn and twist his body made also pushed my chest closer to his, confined by his own workout shirt. I sighed dreamily as his struggle compressed us closer together.

With the power of the needle, I made myself much more malleable and began to slip my arms to into the arm sleeves of his shirt. I spiraled them across his meaty biceps, possessively claiming every square inch of his flesh as my own. I did the same with my legs, wanting to bind us further.

The sight must have been bizarre- two men, naked from the waist down, both in the same sweaty workout shirt. And the smaller man, stretching and wrapping his arms and legs over the other.

“Now for some real fun” I stated, as I shot out as many of my nerves into him as I could. He screamed at the sensory assault as he fell unconscious. I merely continued rooting into him, relishing in being able to feel every inch of Mr. Unattainable. I slowly stumbled our bodies toward his mirror, making sure to have him grab his own phone.

= = = = =

When Joey came to, he saw my head hanging to the side in front of his, and his body enveloped by mine. He panicked when he saw more threads from my face rooted into his neck and mouth. “Fuck Joey, I can feel how strong your lungs are. Even your breaths feel like a top jock” I moaned.

Like raindrops, I felt his tears stream down his cheek and onto my face. “L-Let me go man. Look I’m sorry for whatever I did to you. I swear I don’t remember doing anything.”

I laughed callously. “No need to apologize, bro. You haven’t done anything to me. I just want you all to my own.” I brought his phone up to his face so he could see the name on the call screen. Britney.

“Babe?” She answered. “What’s up?”

“H-HEL-“ He tried to holler. Instead, his neck swelled and throat strained as he my red thread began to writhe.

“Joey? Is everything all right?” She asked in a worried tone.

“Fuck yeah it is,” Joey’s mouth laughed, while his eyes showed fear. I continued to use him as my mouth piece. “You’re so boring, Brit. Just called to tell you it’s over.” Tears began to well in his eyes. I could practically hear the tears in Brit’s eyes over the phone.

“Joey… I. Is something wrong? You never call me Brit. I told you how my dad used to…” She trailed, trying to rationalize the situation.

I continued the puppet show as Joey’s eyes continued pleading with me. “Nothing’s wrong, Babe. In fact, it’s finally all right over here.” He stated with a smile. Joey’s eyes winced at the venom spewing from his mouth.

Joey grunted as he tried to stop his free hand from fondling my ass. “Do you know how many girls and guys wanted in these pants, Brit? Do you know how hard is to always turn someone down. They all want a piece of Juicy Joe.”

“I mean, yeah, I guess you mentioned it once…” She sniffled. “But I thought we were fine” said a choked up Britney.

“Fuck no this isn’t fine. Look at me. I’m a fucking bull.” Joey was forced to say, while sticking his tongue out. I briefly stopped his hand from groping my cheek to force it into a biceps flex. He tried to squirm his head away but was ultimately forced to lick it and moan. I huffed and whispered in his ear. “I bet you taste fucking salty, Joey.”

“Babe, what’s wrong? You never talk about your body that-“

“Brit, just shut the fuck up”. That seemed to shut her up. “Always fucking whining too…” I made Joey huff. The upper half of his head was sobbing now. I forced his free hand back over my ass, and used his other hand to set the call to speaker. “It’s over”.

Joey dropped the phone on the table- still mid call, as I willed his other hand to cup my other cheek. Squeeze. “Fffuuuuck” I moaned. “You’re fucking mine, Joe.” Like his musculature, I commanded my cock into a malleable state, snaking over his, encircling it like a fleshy sleeve. Then, all at once, my red threads of control stirred, as Joey fucked his thick jock dick into my makeshift cocksleeve. “I’m fucking yours”. I made him say. My eyes fluttered in drunken bliss.

“Joey- who is that?”

I felt his head struggle as he tried to stop his body from growing hard. At this, I made sure he had full control of his cock. His plump ass cheeks tightened as his body was forced to thrust into me. I saw him wince, but we both felt the change. Even without me controlling it, his cock stirred to life.

I willed my flesh puppet to answer. “Oh, him? I’ve been fucking him during this call, Brit. That’s how boring you are. Stupid too- we’ve been fucking for months and you never noticed” I make him say it to his reflection as well, topping it with a sleazy grin he never wore. I also made a point to moan, to force him to thrust his hardening dick into me in loud, boisterous grunts. “Fuck. Brit. You. Never. Felt. This. Good”. I make him gasp in between breaths.

“So you’re fucking him, right now?” She asked, now turning to anger.

“Mmph… YES” I let him shout, as I tightened my fleshy trap around his engorged dick and milk his seed dry. To add to the injury, I released control of his mouth at the same time, so in that moment, he felt himself scream bloody pleasure and coat my flesh in his juices.

“YOU’RE FUCKING DEAD TO ME,” Britney shouts, before hanging up.

Perhaps it was due to the pleasure, or the bombardment of his senses, or the sheer perversion of the situation, but Joey’s eyes rolled back to its whites and his head slumped into my shoulder.

I basked in the moment, coated in the sweat and baby batter of Mr. Unattainable. Breathing in sync with his unconscious form. With his head still slung forward, I willed his upright form to give my ass another squeeze. “Take me, bro. I’m your fucking meat puppet. Feel me. Use me. These muscles, this body. It’s all yours. I’m all yours.” I make Joey say. Mr. Unattainable wholly mine.

I kept him upright, facing the mirror without a care for how sore his post-workout body already was. I made sure he stirred awake, to still see himself playing and groping my fleshy form, bonded together supernaturally by the god of meat. He sobbed silently at our union.

With Joey whimpering and broken, I began to retreat into my original form, letting his arms and legs and chest free. All that connected our two naked bodies now was just a single thread of red. But just one thread was all I seemed to need. I no longer felt resistance from his body, as his sullen face just looked to me with defeat.

I made him reiterate my will. “I’m all yours,” Joey mumbles. I puppetted him to close the distance, and pull my back towards his abs. Joey did not resist as body grinded into mine. He clumsily grabbed my head for a sloppy kiss. And once again, I tasted and experienced something only Brit previously had. His tears smeared into my cheek as I started making him kiss me. My eyes fluttered closed as I was in ecstasy. True pleasure. His lips slowly pried mine open, then the tip of his tongue touching mine. In our deranged intimacy, I savored the taste of Joey’s mouth and of his tongue now forced mine. I didn’t want this to end. Joey’s body pulled back from the kiss and began groping itself, repeating his new mantra. “I’m all yours.”

Still repeating his mantra, my eyes locked with his, before he grabbed the needle from the desk and pricked his hand with it. In that instant, I heard the door unlock.

What were the chances? Another miracle of probability. There was a single late final on campus, for an upper div class that freshmen rarely took. And yet, it seemed there was one freshman that did happen to take such a class.

Just my luck.

Charlie.

= = = = =

A two-parter. Could not for the life of me get usable photos of “Joey” in a compression shirt, so you’re gonna have to use a little imagination for that one haha.

#male puppet #male corruption

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rapturously · 1 year ago

Text

twenty minutes.

➾ pairing ; mickey altieri x fem!reader.

in which mickey sneaks into your dorm room and things become more heated than usual.

format: drabble — not requested.

word count: 2.5K.

warnings: SMUT (mdni), risk of getting caught, slight corruption kink, fingering (f!receiving), making out, biting, dry humping, dirty talk, mild degradation (use of slut), choking, obsessive behavior from Mickey, begging, teasing, finger sucking, very slight edging, ambiguous ending

author’s note: I wrote this because I love Mickey and I want to write a part 2 with phone sex 💀 also, first time ever writing for him, so hopefully it’s good and people enjoy it! I am also working on requests, but I’m also on-call for work, so I get pretty busy. Hoping to have a lot of stuff finished & posted next week! thank you all for your love & support !!! :)

Mickey Altieri reminded you of a cat — elusive, cunning, and prone to climbing trees without much of a hindrance. The thick, sturdy oak that hovered by your window in the Delta Zeta House provided a place for your boyfriend to scuttle about, thumping a palm against the glass pane of your window.

He had a look in his eyes when you caught sight of him — devious and full of desire, glazed over with a sheen of mischief. It’s coupled with that pearlescent grin as you clamor toward your window, swiftly unlatching it as you glance over your shoulder. Your roommate is in the shower, a worthwhile time for him to come crawling in.

His timing is always impeccable.

This nightly ritual of him sneaking into your room is always accompanied with a giddiness and thrill. His dark tresses are disheveled, sporting a dark sweater that clings to his musculature. He climbs through with a silent grace, reaching for you before you can open your mouth.

“I’m doing all of the work here,” Mickey smirks, pressing a string of kisses along your jaw. “When are you going to climb through my window?” He questioned, tone playful as could be as his hands roughly pressed into your hips.

You and Mickey were still in this honeymoon stage of your relationship, where everything was glowing and bright, with sparks always flying in every direction. He oozes charm and charisma with every breath, and it never fails to pull you right in. He was becoming your addiction — your vice.

Sandalwood and bergamot cling to him as he sighs, hunching in over you as his mouth nips at your jugular. It elicits a low, simpering whine from you, serving as encouragement as Mickey turns that playful nip into a brief, rough bite. You taste saccharine underneath his tongue.

“I can’t climb a tree,” You protest, fingers curling into the front of his woolen sweater. “You have twenty minutes.” You huff, knowing that your roommate won’t be in the shower forever. It’s always the same heated routine — kissing until your lips are swollen, his hands grabbing your breasts, he leaves a hickey, and then he disappears.

Mickey groans into your sweet flesh, teeth idly grazing over your neck. “I want more than twenty minutes,” He uttered, peering down at your choice of wardrobe. It’s a ditzy nightgown that reminds him of summertime, speckled in hundreds of little flowers. He pinches the fabric between his fingers. “It’s not enough.”

“Kiss me, Mickey.” You mumble, a soft gasp tearing past your parted lips when he delivered a rather passionate kiss, open-mouthed with a desperate bout of tongue. He tugs at your nightgown, calloused fingertips tracing across the bare flesh of your thigh.

He was a dutiful boyfriend — eccentric and charming, a natural flirt with an obscene amount of wit. You adored that about him, but above all, you loved how much he spoke about you to other people. Mickey had this thing about staking his claim, and you weren’t about to tell him otherwise.

You can’t see it now, but there is a darkness festering inside of him. It’s always just at the forefront of his lascivious gaze, as if it might lash out and strike you. Mickey’s obsession with you transcended any normalcy, perceived as erratic and strange, but thankfully, you are none the wiser to his impulsive tendencies.

He loves your oblivious nature — it’s easier to control you that way.

Goosebumps form along the column of your spine, prickling along your body as his fingers slip underneath your nightgown, trailing along the waistband of your panties. He’s always teased you, but something feels different this time — it’s electrifying and exhilarating as he pets at your soft skin.

As your lips part, you stare at him incredulously, attempting to decipher his next move. “We can’t,” You protest, though it’s weak and lacking any sincerity. Your roommate, whilst prone to taking endless showers, won’t stay put forever. “Mickey.” You whisper.

“Why not?” He purred, teeth nicking your neck, which caused you to let out a soft gasp. Mickey’s lips soothed the bite with passionate kisses, tongue swirling over the newly-formed mark. “You going to stop me?” His lips curl into a faint smirk.

His laughter is delicious, alluring and full of a teasing mockery, one that causes goosebumps to coalesce along your spine. Mickey keeps it hushed, but you won’t be heard, not over the buzz of Duran Duran from your roommate’s radio.

His digits slip beneath the waistband of your panties as he hurriedly parts your legs, rucking your nightgown up towards your hips. “Maybe,” You squeak, voice barely above a hushed whisper. Mickey’s spindly digits playfully trace over your cunt, declining to touch your clit. “M—Mickey!”

You sputter, clinging to him like a drowning woman, grabbing fistfuls of his sweater as he swipes his fingers along your wet cunt. He’s devilishly enticing, and if you closed your eyes, you could envision his forked tail and silver tongue that continued to seduce you time and time again.

“This says otherwise,” Mickey’s tone has a playful edge of mockery to it as he kisses your jaw, unable to withhold the salacious expression that creeps onto his features. He revels in the way you whimper, hips jolting forward into his hand in an attempt to relieve even a lick of friction. “Want me to stop?”

He’s cruel.

Your pitiful, desperate expression screams for him to continue as you shake your head back and forth a hundred times over. “No, no!” You whisper, moaning when his thumb lightly traced over your clit. “Jesus, please don’t stop!” Your volume becomes heightened, and at that, Mickey decides to conceal it.

Mickey chuckles — it’s a dark and dangerous sound, but that’s why he has you so hooked to begin with. That aura of dominance emerges so quickly, and you’re enthralled, powerless to stop him. “You need to be quiet.” He cautioned, feeling you grab his wrist as you encourage him to keep going.

He does, much to your delight, fingers deftly tracing along your slit, drinking in the softness and wet warmth, thumb drawing circles around that sensitive clutch of nerves. Your cunt clenches pathetically around nothing at all, yearning for the sensation of his practiced digits.

A hapless whine leaves your lips when Mickey begins to test your limits, two fingers nudging at your entrance. It’s sluggish and teasing as he deliberates, gaze roving over your countenance. “You think about me when you touch yourself?” He questioned, mouth ghosting over yours as he pressed a string of kisses there, and then to your jaw.

Embarrassment rippled through you at the crass question, prompting your boyfriend to stop pleasuring you. Any sensations ceased, and made you moan in protest. “H—Hey,” You whimpered. “Mickey, baby, please don’t stop.” You groaned, feeling his hand lightly clasp around your throat.

“Answer me, and maybe I’ll keep going.” He chuckled, head cocked to one side. His muscled form loomed over you, casting a shadow across your body, moonlight swallowed whole. Mickey appeared predatorial and hungry in this light — ravenous for you.

“Y—Yes, I do, I — I think about you.” You mumbled, and to your relief, his thumb returned to your clit with a feather-light pressure. You rucked your hips forward with desperation, chasing after his hand. You were flustered to no end, burying your face into his chest, which he promptly stepped away from.

“Jesus,” Mickey sighed, drinking in your smitten expression. “You look so pretty like this.” At that, he sank forward, digits nudging their way inside of your cunt. Tightness followed, consumed by liquid heat as he began to piston his fingers in and out of your slit.

Another wave of goosebumps coalesced along your flesh, making you tense with excitement as Mickey gripped your throat with his other hand. Fingers squeezed underneath your jaw, applying pressure as he bit at your lip, surprisingly rough, hard enough to draw blood.

A startled gasp tore past your mouth, accompanied by a keening moan as Mickey found a rather vigorous rhythm. His practiced digits pumped in and out of your tight cunt, coated in your slick as this thumb brushed over your clit. Your body reacted in a violent fashion, desperately clamoring forward, friction electrifying.

The shower was still running, and you were awash with pleasure, cunt clenching around his fingers as he withdrew another moan from you. Mickey loved feeling your throat bob and tighten underneath his grasp, tracing the pad of his thumb above your pulse point. It was racing — beating at the speed of sound.

Molten heat pooled within the pit of your stomach as Mickey callously lapped at the blood coalescing along your lower lip, noticing the sheen of surprise within your eyes. “Doesn’t bother me,” He uttered, kissing you again with a force that made your head spin. “Tastes like you.”

Jesus — if it weren’t for your roommate, you would’ve been screaming. Your entire being ached for him in every way imaginable, hands grasping at his sweater. Mickey turned you around, pressing your knees into your mattress as he deftly felt his way around your body.

“Fuck, I wanna be inside of you.” Mickey snarled, brazenly biting at the dip between your neck and shoulder, having tugged your nightgown into all sorts of directions. His erection was prevalent, grinding against the curve of your ass as he pistoned his fingers in and out of you. “Would you let me?”

It all felt so quick, just heat and carnality, desire that had all rolled into an amalgamation of want. You hadn’t gone all the way yet — part of you wanted to save it for a time where your roommate wasn’t a few feet away.

“M—Mickey,” You whimpered, hips rolling and jolting into his hand, palms grasping at his bicep and forearm, something to steady you. “Please, please don’t stop!” Everything felt so feverish, as if you were trapped in some thick haze, unable to break free.

Mickey huffed, countenance etched with a playful disdain as he nibbled along the shell of your ear. “Would you let me fuck you right here?” He asked again, more pointed and aggressive this time, accompanied by a harsh flick against your clit.

Your head bobbed up and down over and over again in a series of indiscernible babbles and nods. “Yes! Y—Yes, Mickey,” You might’ve said it over and over again, back arching as he began to curl his digits into you, right into a spot that made your bones turn to dust. “M’close!” A desperate whine left you.

His cajoling laughter made the hairs along the back of your neck stand up, thighs rubbing together. “Course you would,” Mickey murmured, kissing at your neck, attempting to give you another hickey, something that he succeeded in. “You’re my little slut.” The sudden degradation made you bristle.

Admittedly, you shouldn’t have enjoyed it as much as you did, squirming and writhing against him as he toyed with your clit. You moaned, fingers clamping down into his arm so hard that you were afraid of leaving bruises. Mickey didn’t slow or stop, continuing that same, brutal pace as he brought you to your climax.

His hot, labored breathing fanned across your neck and shoulder, causing you to shiver as he grinded himself against you. The rough denim made contact with your haunch, content to rut against the curve of your ass. Mickey knew you were close, and with another steady barrage of digits, you shuddered.

You were drowning in a white-hot ecstasy, reduced to a sticky, whimpering mess at the hands of your boyfriend, whose grin was etched into the back of your neck like a brand. Mickey let you ride it out, spasming and mewling, hoping to let it simmer before your roommate finished her shower.

Mickey caressed circles into your clit, feeling your knees wobble, thighs quivering as you trembled like a leaf, rocking back against him. He was akin to the cat who’d caught the canary, pearlescent teeth glittering through the dim light as he slowly removed his fingers from your weeping cunt.

“Mickey,” You sighed, feeling him nudge you, coaxing you to turn around as he sat you down against your mattress. There was something vulnerable and exhilarating about it all as he loomed over you, head cocking to one side. “That was amazing.”

He smirked — a haughty, salacious smirk that made your insides turn to mush, heat pooling between your legs once more. “I’m not done just yet, sweetheart.” Mickey crooned, reaching forward to squeeze on either side or your jaw. “Open for me.”

An innocuous confusion fluttered across your features, and he drank it in — you were so innocent, so pious that Mickey fed from it. He watched in silent rapture as you opened your mouth, and again, his smarmy, playful grin was prevalent as he placed his digits upon the flat of your tongue.

A swarm of saliva began to pool within your mouth, a whimper erupting from the depths of your throat. You knew what Mickey wanted, and you elected to obey, able to taste the remnants of your orgasm.

Shyly, you began to suck on his fingers, watching the way his countenance blossomed to life with an insidious desire. “Good,” Mickey purred, placing his other hand against the back of your head, cradling your skull as he urged you closer. “Should’ve brought my camera.”

That comment alone forced you to press your thighs together, and your boyfriend, ever the watchful and observant creature, took notice. Through the dim light of your bedroom, he was as coy and cajoling as the Cheshire Cat, slipping his fingers down your tongue.

“Would you like that?” His voice contorted into something else — malefic and low. You barely noticed the lack of static noise as your roommate turned the shower off. “Should I film us together next time? Might make for an interesting movie.” Mickey uttered.

A familiar heat thrummed against your ribcage, slipping through the cracks as it rippled across your body. You suddenly realized that your roommate had finished her shower, and Mickey hadn’t moved a muscle — he knew. A whimper threatened to break free from your chest, hands tight and fisted within your lap.

When footsteps began to inch closer, Mickey took his fingers out of your mouth, replacing them with his lips as he kissed you. You exhaled, sharp and excitable, reaching for his chest again. It was hot and crackling with tension, even still. His erection pressed against your inner thigh.

“Next time, I’ll sneak over.” You murmured, feeling his lips curl into a grin as he pressed a string of kisses against your neck. As Mickey began to slink away, you grabbed his arm, staring at him with doe-like eyes. “We’ll have more than twenty minutes next time.”

Mickey smirked, beginning to climb out of your window and back onto the boughs of the oak. “I’m counting on it.” He chimed, and began to scale the tree back down and into the darkness. You watched him go, chest tight with the sensation of yearning.

Unbeknownst to you, Mickey intended on making a phone call tonight — and you were set to be the star.

#slasher x reader #slasher x you #slasher x y/n #mickey altieri x reader #mickey altieri x you #ghostface x reader #scream fanfiction #slasher fanfiction #slasher fanfic #slasher fandom #scream #scream 2 #mickey altieri #ghostface fanfic #ghostface

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sprinklesoncake · 2 months ago

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Outfits I think would suit every Rafayel girl:

Something playful; feminine; artsy but also sporty a bit (sporty as in “I look like I can do sports but my whole outfit is a hindrance”). For more inspiration look up girls like Jang Wonyoung🩷

#love and deepspace #lnds mc #lads mc #lads rafayel #lnds rafayel #rafayel x mc #rafayel fluff #love and deepspace rafayel #rafayel x reader #love and deepspace imagines #love and deepspace headcanons

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 7 months ago

Note

I know you’ve been receiving a lot of Malleus asks lately, but do you think Malleus’s overblot will really play with the idea of overblots being dangerous to the overblotter’s health? Having him suffer from health complications after his massive magic expenditure would help take him down a notch in preparation for whatever follows in Book 8. We can’t have him solving everything with his ridiculous magical might after all.

I don't really think they'll "really play with the idea of OBs being dangerous to the OBer's health" beyond making Malleus conveniently incapacitated for a short enough of a time to not defeat Grim in a single flick of his pinkie finger. (I also want to point out we don't have confirmation for a book 8 with OB Grim quite yet, so I'd rather not make assumptions on what's to come.)

The reason why I think this is because none of the other boys seem to have suffered the physical consequences following their own incidents. Not a single one as far as I'm aware, at least not in a significant way. It's also odd when you consider that both Riddle and Vil's books highlight that they are seemingly back to full health again "a few days later", implying that it only takes a few days to totally recover from the exertion and anguish that they were just under. The worst of it was Vil mentioning his group did not perform as well as they could have since they were all exhausted.

More damning, however, is Leona's circumstances. He actually recovers almost immediately after the defeat of his OB form (barring a trip to the school infirmary; this is more explicitly shown in the Episode of Octavinelle manga) and even has enough magic to spare to rejoin the interdorm tournament that's going on that same day. And, mind you, they are playing a sport which requires the use of magic… meaning Leona still pushes himself and uses magic when he just overblotted a few minutes ago??? Trey and Jamil even talk about how since the Savanaclaw students took such a beating, it'll be easier for the rest of them to have their revenge on them for playing dirty before the tournament's start. Is… Is no one concerned Leona might OB again from playing?? No?? Just me?? Okay…

Now of course Malleus is on a completely different power level than his peers. We can’t be sure how his body would react post-OB compared to everyone else, same as how Idia notes in book 6 that the memory wiping technology STYX has on hand may affect fae differently. Solely basing my thoughts on what we already know of other characters though, the mage’s health is not treated like a huge concern in the aftermath. We don’t observe devastating side effects either.

I think we can assume they’ll be fine granted enough rest and food, with maybe the one notable exception being physical hindrance/tiredness in the period right after. That’ll probably be long enough for Malleus to not Save The Day Instantly whenever it is that Grim loses it and rampages, thus giving the other boys a chance to team up and help out. Again, really plot convenient (*stares at the feats Leona was able to pull off in his “tired” state*) but whatever makes the story move forward, I guess 🤷‍♀️

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lilacxquartz · 8 months ago

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Those Late Summer Nights | Chapter 8

satoru gojo x f!reader × suguru geto

plot: you moved to tokyo over the summer to take a teaching job. as you get settled in, you find yourself entangled in a toxic dynamic.

chapter summary: your father celebrated his birthday while Satoru kept up appearances. after the celebration, an unwelcome face shows up in your life again.

< Previous Chapter • Next Chapter >

8. Reunions

The next morning had finally arrived and it was time to get through one of your least favourite time of the year; a family celebration.

You dreaded spending time with your family during certain types of events. Birthdays, celebrations and national holidays all made up those times and each moment spent with your folks felt all the more bleaker than the last.

It was never a simple congratulations with a gift parted away, but it was rather taken seriously, as though you had a script to follow along and play your part right, lest it all came undone.

Just as you had feared also, your parents momentarily paused in their tracks when they spotted you exiting the guest house along with Satoru in tow but they never once referenced it when you were back inside the family home.

This both relieved you, but also scared you.

Satoru immediately found himself separated from you as the two of you were given things to do right away. Both you and your mother took on the bulk of the responsibilities as your father sat himself down with Satoru in his company, curious to talk to the guy.

Every time it came to celebrating anything at all, your father would resign his responsibilities and hand them all off to the women of the household, a certain type of repeated condition that cycled through your mother’s birthday as well as your own.

Opting out of celebrating either was not an option.

As such, you grew to resent your father for his continued silence within the house. Whether it was proven by words or actions, it remained abundantly clear just how he viewed the family dynamic.

Satoru, otherwise to his credit, did offer to help out as he claimed to be skillful when it came to preparing at least sweet things if that’s something that needed help but your father was quick to whisk him away, reminding him of the important of a well maintained household balance.

You wanted to say something about that but you found yourself biting your tongue as you resisted the urge to tell your father off for being too old fashioned.

You knew that Satoru’s mind wouldn’t be swayed so easily, but you still worried about how this all looked for you. On you.

It was a thought that quickly went away as you prepared the food with your mother instead in a strained albeit comfortable silence. Your relationship with your mother wasn’t the best, but you were a reflection of her in many ways. It left you wondering if you had similar dreams, stifled away by a common hindrance.

Occasional small talk would surface but beyond that point, the conversation remained dry. At times she would attempt to thread through the seams by asking you how you’re settling into the city, how you’re finding life by yourself—only for the string to never seal itself off again, leaving a lot left unsaid instead.

And after everything was finally ready and prepped to go, you excused yourself upstairs to change into something a little more suitable for the occasion. Satoru had also been encouraged to do the exact same.

You wore a dress for the event; it was a lot different than the one that Suguru gave you but it was much better fitting for the occasion at hand. A dusty sage green midi dress with semi long sleeves capping at the elbows, decorative buttons and cinching along the waist with long flowy skirting.

Satoru didn’t have to comment, he could have kept as quiet as Suguru did but he couldn’t resist in doing so anyway. His eyes scrolled over your body in a similar sort of way to his friend, but it didn’t feel as strangely looming.

“You look good,” he simply said as he sported something slightly more formal himself. His smile felt genuine as his tone possessed something flirty, however keeping himself in check around the company of your parents.

It didn’t take too long for the rest of your relatives to arrive either, quickly filling out the once quiet house with the drone of chatter instead. A combination of rarely seen aunts and uncles along with the nieces and nephews that scurried around the house as well as your one remaining grandparent.

In total, it was a crowd of an additional eight.

Satoru continued to play his part as he promised; borrowing the spotlight away from you and standing within it instead. He got along criminally well with the chattier aunts, gifting you some breathing room in the process.

He didn’t really mind doing so either, it’s what he promised you, after all.

The relief continued to settle as the dinner finally passed with the relatives that now made their way back home. The secondary comfort being that the worst to come was now finally over and you could be back in the city quite soon again.

Satoru quickly reunited with you as the day came to an end, not saying much to your parents as they retreated back upstairs for the evening.

“We should probably go and find that plum wine for Shoko, right?” he asked, pausing a little as he spoke, it was evening by now and this wasn’t a big town so he wondered if there was any time to begin with, “…If the shops aren’t closed, that is?”

“It’s the brewery in town that sells it,” you replied to him, “everything else is closed but they’re open up quite late.”

“Then that’s what we’ll do.” he smiled, feeling comfortable once again. He hoped to lift your spirits even if you were on the verge of feeling burnt out, grabbing onto your wrist and leading you outside.

You didn’t protest this a second time, figuring that some fresh air would be good for you.

~~~

The walk to the brewery took a little longer and by the time you got closer to the town square, the sun had already started to set, leaving the settlement basking in a warm orange glow as a thick floral scent wafted in the air.

Satoru personally found himself enjoying the quieter parts of your personality, walking alongside you just because. It was because of the comfort he felt around you that he stopped himself taking things too far, too soon.

Upon reaching the inner town where the supposed bustle usually was, it now seemed closer to being a ghost town rather than what you were used to further down in the country.

You guided Satoru into the brewery, leading him into an almost out of place looking interior—large wooden barrels filling out the interior with decorative dark beams sloping against the roof creating a rustic look.

His eyes wandered around the building as he took it all in, finally settling at the menu just over the counter. The speciality looked like it was beer currently although plum wine did have a spot on there too.

There was a choice to either order to take home or drink out of glasses in the beer garden just outside.

You initially had offered to pay for the bottle because it was something Shoko asked from you specifically, but Satoru quickly stepped in on your behalf and with the bottle in tow, you decided to at least make an effort to tour him around the town while time still remained.

Not that there was much left to show off.

The most that the town had going for it was its greenery; a lush nature backdrop that grew between the cracks and seams with a few traditional buildings scattered throughout. It was pretty typical for rural Japan. Nostalgia unintentionally hit you as you walked through the streets, throwing you back to when you walked around all alone, those many years ago.

Satoru didn’t seem to mind all too much, never once showing discomfort around you as you led him in and out of the many neighbourhoods.

“You know, this place is very calm, actually,” he said, filling out a moment of silence, “but it is boring, I do have to admit that much.”

“I guess it isn’t that bad if you’re either really young or really old, but just not so much in between,” you replied in agreement with him.

“I’m just mostly surprised that you didn’t go insane living here,” he laughed a little, hoping to lighten things up with you. He liked seeing you smile.

“I mean, I did to an extent,” you replied with a bitter smile, “the town itself is fine, it’s just the people in-“

You then froze.

It was as if you had manifested the devil herself; the brief peace that you had experienced seeming to have quickly evaporated—something, someone familiar approaching you to take you back to hell.

You gulped as you surrendered, suddenly shying away and attempting to take a different route down the road instead. This however was quickly caught on by Satoru who had a different idea in mind, not wanting for you to hide from your problems for once.

Maybe the way he was going about it was wrong, since this was your battle to figure out, but he wanted to help in the ways he knew he could.

As a teacher, he wasn’t all that unfamiliar with bullying from an outside perspective, even if he did turn a blind eye to it as a teen and while you were his equal, not a student, he still felt as though it was something better to face than just ignore.

Standing up to Yui might not have been in your cards, forcing her to acknowledge her past might not work, but maybe teaching you that you could just move on from your past?

Not that it was his place but…

It wasn’t as though you were about face someone he didn’t know about, either. He could tell from your body language alone that this was the bully that you spoke of from when you had first met.

“Hey, don’t worry about it,” he assured you in a softer voice, patting your back to reinforce your folded posture once again, “nothing will happen, I won’t let it.”

In truth, he found the situation almost a little… amusing? He wasn’t a total stranger to the sway of influencial families and how they’d bend the public to their will by abusing their status in life. Seeing similar inner politics being reflected in regular civilian clans was a little strange to him, leaving him wondering exactly what type of mess this other woman was caught up in.

In the cities, sorcerer clans dominated the population. He speculated that in villages and towns, it must have been financial, some type of dominating business or simply just old money.

With that in mind, he thought that the bully in question therefore was overcompensating for something. It was likely that it was a lack of control in her life, so he she took it out on someone who had a history of not fighting back—not that he blamed you for it or anything.

The more he thought about it, the more petty he found it but he at least did get it, even if he couldn’t help but find the whole thing a little funny. For such an irrelevant town, one that he didn’t even know existed until you pointed it out on the map, to drive away its own people was hilarious to him.

What a joke.

And when this woman began to speak, he had to go the extra way to hold back stifled laughter.

“[name]! It’s been so long, hasn’t it?” Yui announced to you in a higher pitched tone, emulating some shred of care as her words feigned politeness. You wondered why this was happening, but upon seeing her eyes flick over to Satoru, you quickly understood why.

Satoru saw through this too, being completely used to this sort of person and situation. He liked attention, but he didn’t like it at the expense of others.

“Hi Yui,” you greeted in a resigned tone.

“Back in town so soon?” she asked in a forced polite voice, she wasn’t going to do anything that got her into trouble, not after the incident anyway.

“Yeah, uh, just visiting because-“ you mumbled, not wanting to indulge but you were cut off anyway.

“—sorry, but can you speak up? You’re so quiet.” she interrupted.

You swallowed away your last remaining shred of sanity, still not understanding why Satoru didn’t allow for you to just take a detour.

“It’s my dad’s birthday, so I’m in town for the weekend,” you replied with some strained added volume.

“Oh, the construction worker, right?”

“Actually he works in a facto—“

“—so, who’s your friend?” Yui asked, cutting you off once again as her intentions were finally made abundantly clear. You were the opening act for her to get closer to Satoru, thinking that a half-assed attempt of small talk would be enough to garner the attention of him.

You paused momentarily, unsure of how to actually introduce him. It was easier to go off on implications with your parents because that’s something you mulled over in your mind for a whole week, however suddenly doing so around your tormentor was a whole different story.

“He’s uh, a close friend,” you replied at long last; he was a fabricated lover, and while he did promise to play his part for you while he was here, you just couldn’t say it to her.

Satoru watched this happen from the sidelines, not wanting to interrupt unless he absolutely had to do so. He considered that he would have to talk to her soon, because his involvement was made clear.

He did find it a little disappointing that you didn’t use the boyfriend line for him though because he would have put on his best act for you.

“Oh, really…?” Yui replied, sounding almost disappointed as her eyes lit up with a new sort of flare, maintaining her friendly smile.

Yui seemed to be completely ignoring you now which you felt was strangely petty given the ages you were all currently in, since you weren’t teenagers anymore like before.

“Just a close friend?” she asked, setting her sights on Satoru next, “well if you’re ever craving some company that’s more suited to your liking, then-“

“Not a chance,” Satoru said, shutting down the attempt right away, not wanting to indulge in it any further. He could admit to being amused by the whole situation, but he didn’t harbour any interest in it all the same.

He dragged you past her as he settled on ignoring the bully instead. In his mind, you two weren’t at school anymore so regardless of what happened back then should be left behind in the past. Had Yui been more aggressive though, then maybe—but it was simple enough to just stifle her ego for now.

He could have gone further, but he didn’t.

As he walked by with you, you were left behind with some type of lingering confusion in the aftermath of things. He didn’t quite put an end to the problem at hand, but he didn’t let you dwell on it any further.

Something about this experience did manage to awake something else for him though, a sudden burst need of responsibility—feelings that were too confusing to understand right away but they were there.

What started off as him putting off his clan duties and showing off to a town he didn’t care about now simmered off into a realisation of wanting to keep you close, no matter what.

It sure felt complicated, though.

“You’re fine, right?” he spoke up after a while now that you both were far gone from the scene; feeling partial regret from making you face your past. He no longer wanted you to do so—wanting for you to move on, instead.

He didn’t like how he felt right now, it felt too familiar, almost. It was like looking into a parallel mirror as he finally understood why you hated this place so damn much.

It was a reminder that things had to be a certain way—just as his own family name emphasised the same point.

At least however, he could change the course of your life by interfering in the same way he was determined to give his students a chance at a more carefree life in spite of the life they’re forced to lead.

“Y-yeah, sorry, I-I just didn’t think I’d run into her here so soon,” you stammered in response, feeling stressed beyond belief from the encounter, thankful that you didn’t have to brave it alone, “I thought I could avoid her, but, I guess not…”

“Don’t sweat it,” he continued, forcing a smile to spread across his face as he pondered his own feelings, “nothing happened anyway, so we can just move on, right?”

“R-right,” you replied, nodding along.

Satoru sighed, he never thought anything would happen anyway. Teenagers could be needlessly cruel, but if Yui belonged to an influential family, then she would be unwise to stain the reputation in adulthood.

Feeling a little protective, he challenged an idea, not quite caring how it sounded.

“In fact,” he spoke just a little quieter than before as he drew you in by wrapping his arm around your shoulder, “she’s so irrelevant, hell, this whole town is so irrelevant that you don’t even need to think about it all again after you’re back.”

You responded with a nervous laugh in response, feeling unsure in which direction he was going exactly.

“I’m being serious, [name],” he said again, although moving away from you to gain some distance away from him, “you don’t need anyone else, not when you have me, Shoko and Suguru, so just forget about this place and never look back again.”

(And if you tried to go back, he’d stop you.)

“And my parents…?” you added to the list, still thinking he was joking.

“Nobody else,” he corrected you, feeling a little protective. He wasn’t always like this, so he felt like he really had to emphasise his point since he wasn’t joking around for once.

“I guess you might be right,” you replied as you thought about it some more; it wasn’t like you got anything out of this trip by coming to see your family, all it did was strain your relationship with your parents further.

Then again, this whole progression felt too soon—too fast, to abandon your old life in order to cling onto your new life felt unrealistic as well, no matter how much reassurance you’d get from the trio.

Was this level of attachment normal?

As you considered the implications in your mind, you slowly got used to the idea. To Satoru it seemed simple enough because you didn’t have to leave behind any crucial responsibilities, so the choice to move on was something you’d a fool to not take advantage of.

By the time you were both back at your family home, he led you back inside the guest house and didn’t do a single thing near you because he had you right where he wanted you; where he had his own hopes secured vicariously through your decision.

It wasn’t a malicious action he thought, unlike what you were feeling. This was just him looking out for you, keeping away from a place that was bad for you.

So come the next day, he rushed you out of the town as he barely gave you enough time to pack your things and to say goodbye to your very own parents, eager to get you back to what he thought to be a better life back in Tokyo.

You weren’t going to actually cut off your parents though, even if you had promised so under the spur of the moment. You were going to reduce contact instead and let them influence your decisions less.

As you sat back into the passenger seat of his car, you weren’t quite sure what you were feeling just yet.

It wasn’t quite entrapment as you felt with Suguru when he pushed your boundaries, but it wasn’t quite freedom either.

Regardless of where you went, it felt like the decision to do so was never truly your own.

So, have you managed to change at all?

Or were you still trapped in that shell?

(Is this how your mother also felt at times?)

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kallietell · 2 months ago

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Subject: Addressing your Recent Weight Gain

Hello Emma,

As the associate director of the Kensington State University athletic department, I'm obligated to reach out to you concerning you and your team's behavior at last night's annual sports banquet. You caused quite a disruption, and the operating director, treasurer, and other members of the Kensington State University athletic department met this morning to discuss your future with the Kensington State volleyball team as well as appropriate punishments for the very inappropriate incident that unfortunately occurred.

Please know that our own interpersonal issues, particularly your qualms with the percentage of the athletics department's budgets that is slated to our championship-winning football team, have had no impact on any decision made by the board.

With all due respect, as a leader of our student-athletes there is a certain standard that you are expected to adhere to in terms of your own personal health and fitness. It has become overwhelmingly clear with just a brief visual inspection of your figure that that standard has not been upheld to any degree. Due to the incident, the athletic department board chose to review game footage from some of your matches this season, and we were surprised and disappointed to say the least.

Our approximations based on comparisons to game footage from last season estimate that you have gained no less than 50 pounds, and that amount of fat accumulation in such a short period of time is not only a hindrance to the fulfillment of the tasks assigned to your role, it is also a very negative example to set for your student-athletes, who both look up to you and emulate your behavior.

This imitation is evident in an assessment of your student's health statistics as well, and every member of your volleyball team, starting or otherwise, ended the season a minimum of 25 pounds heavier than they began it, obviously a factor that made it very difficult for your team to see success within its season. Just last year you brought your girls to the semi-finals, and this year, based on game footage that we reviewed, your girls were exhausted by the second match of each game, leading to abysmal win rates and overall negative outcomes for both the students and the Kensington State university athletic department brand image.

We are known for our student's prowess and skill, not their size, and frankly having a team that is now entirely comprised of girls who distinctly fall into the category of overweight or obese does not reflect Kensington State.

This brings me to the incident from last night. As you know, our annual sports banquet should be a time for all of our students to be able to reflect on a great season and enjoy themselves with their peers. Your students, however, shifted the environment of the event and drew focus in a way that detracted from the celebration of our athletic department's achievements this season. Your students took far more than their fair share at the buffet, and they were likely motivated to do so by you, as I noted that you made four separate trips and brought back very full plates each time. Again, your body, while entirely your own concern, is a reflection of the standards we have here at Kensington State. The fact that you choose to indulge to that degree, a degree I can frankly only call gluttonous, is a major concern. Additionally, it reflects a lack of proper judgment given the fact that the dress you choose to wear was clearly far better suited for a woman of a less hefty stature, perhaps a woman of the size that you used to be.

When your dress burst open, exposing your body to the entire banquet, it was obvious that you’ve been neglecting your own health and fitness to an egregious degree based on the size and rounded protrusion of your midsection. While I understand it may have been embarrassing to hear students call out ‘Look how fat coach Emma got’ you must admit that their surprise was more than warranted.

At that point, your actions became unacceptable. Your meltdown bordered on hysterical, and the board has agreed there should be consequences for the false allegations you made.

For you to accuse me of fattening up your team on purpose simply because you criticized the budget breakdown and suggested the football team's funding should be reduced is absolutely ridiculous. I simply suggested that your team take on a sponsorship and provided you with the contact information of an acquaintance I have at Bulk-bar. The fact that you failed to perform any follow-up research on Bulk-bar and its intended uses does not fall on the shoulders of myself or any other member of the athletic department's staff.

Your assertion that I made you fat on purpose, got your team addicted to Bulk-bars which increased their appetite, and did so simply to prevent your team from succeeding this season and detracting funds from my team is completely unfounded and in no way based on reality. The fact that you chose to make that scene at that point, monologuing about how I sabotaged your weight with your dress burst open and your entire body jiggling very inappropriately in front of the students, reflects supremely poor judgment on your part.

Then, of course, comes the matter of the defamations you proceeded to post on social media following the event. Your claim that I called you and your team “a bunch of chubby little porkers who can barely run up the court without waddling” is entirely unsubstantiated. The board also reviewed your Facebook post in which you make the boldface claim that I engaged in inappropriate physical contact with you in which you wrote:

“Coach Liam relentlessly teased myself and the members of our team for our weight gain. He grabbed my stomach and told me my gut was getting out of control, then smacked it and said jiggle piggy, jiggle. He even teased my team captain, telling poor Samantha that she was getting a double chin and asking her if she could even still jump with ‘all that flab she was trying to stuff into that tiny little dress.’ Coach Liam is a terrible person who sabotaged my team just to get more football funding. He did all of this on purpose just to make me look bad.”

Frankly Emma, the situation looks bad enough all on its own. You have no proof of anything you’ve claimed, therefore the board has chosen to side with the football team and provide a portion of your funding to our department for the upcoming season.

While I'm sorry things didn't go as you hoped, perhaps this would be a good time to focus on reining in your clearly increased appetite and getting your weight back under control, if only to avoid another instance of your body tearing through your clothes simply because of the volume of food you’ve consumed.

If you’re concerned about you and your team's dependence on Bulk-bars, perhaps you should’ve done a proper investigation of the product and discovered its habit-forming properties. Regardless, research indicates that the additional mass accumulation will likely go on for some time. I hope you and your girls aren't too big for the uniforms next year. That would be quite a shame.

Lastly, I’ve been made aware that you have a private Facebook account where a few months you issued a post that read:

“I’m getting way too big to coach properly. I need to get all this weight gain under control but I just can't stop stuffing my face, I'm starving all the time and it's like I need more and more food just to fill me up. I swear it's those bars that Liam gave the team, but it's like I just can't stop eating them. If I can't get myself and the girls off Bulk-bars, we're all gonna explode.”

This post was used as evidence by the board to determine that you were well aware of the impact of the Bulk-bars and yet continued to eat them and provide them to your students because of your personal addiction to the bars and other types of obviously high-calorie food. Therefore, it is your fault that your students put on so much weight, your fault that you personally got, as you said “way too big to coach properly”, and your responsibility to remedy both situations.

Thank you for your attention to this matter, and please be aware that in order to sign your employment contract for next season, you’ll need to agree to let the associate director of the athletic department (myself) weigh you on a regular basis.

In the meantime, perhaps purchase larger clothes.

Have a great summer and don't forget to control that appetite of yours,

-Coach Liam Greningwill

| Kensington State University Head Football Coach

| Associate Director- Kensington State University Athletic Department

| “Make every day a day in which you gave your all to meet your goals”

*I hope you enjoyed! For more stories or your own personalized teasing/encouraging POV you can check out my Patreon! Thanks so much for reading:)*

patreon.com/KallieTell

#fat belly #fat kink #feedee encouragement #stuffed fatty #weight gain denial #weight gain fiction #weight gain story #eat up fatty #wg fiction #wg story #weight gain text #wg text #female weight gain #college weight gain

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study-diaries · 9 months ago

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How to do group projects? (If you're selected as the leader of the group)

I hate group projects, it's not necessarily the project rather, the people are not cooperative enough so here's some tips I use when I was chosen to do a PPT and a damn play with 13 members.

(Pictures aren't mine!)

Take phone numbers

Even though my teacher discouraged the idea of it, I still took the numbers of all the members and saved it on the same day the project was given even though the deadline was a month later. You should make sure that you have the necessary means of communication to every member.

Plan and outline within 3 days!

Make an outline of what needs to be done, plan out who's going to do what, how they'll do it, when will they complete it etc etc. The reason i do it within 3 days is because you'll get the base of how you'll do it because generally in group projects, by the time everyone completes the work and gives it to you, it would take atleast a week or two, if you start early, you'll complete earlier than everyone else

No group chats!

I personally don't prefer this because one i realised everyone just didn't reply expecting others to reply, especially when your group is big! So... Dms!! Just send the instructions personally, yes, it takes alot of time but it makes up for the energy wasted in group chats that involve unnecessary talks and questions.

Both face to face and text reminders!

When you've assigned work to every member, make sure they actually do it because you'll be the one responsible. Not gonna lie but reminders help especially when the deadlines are closer. Just a message like "Hey, friendly reminder about the XYZ project."

Save your own name!

This is something I'm really careful about. The accusation that you're being biased and assigning easier work to friends and people I'm close with. So, i figured that the best way to avoid it is to write all the work and the names of members in alphabetical order and assign accordingly. If the member can't do it, then I'll discuss and swap. It saves a hell lot of drama and actually results to better outcomes.

Back up

Make sure that there's always a second in command. This was a mistake I did, on the day of the 2nd project (the play), I was in one of the competitions and our teacher had started with our group first... I didn't exactly tell anyone that everything about the characters assigned to members and the narrations were in my bag so they had to scramble alittle but in the end, our group did the best play despite the situation so that's what you're aiming at. Your group needs to manage without you.

Flexibility

Do not, under any circumstances, expect everything to go well! You need to expect hindrances, like gurl, come on. A mistake I made in the PPT project, i made the PPT and told 4-5 people to explain it because that's how it was supposed to be done but in the end, ALL THE 4-5 PEOPLE HAD TO BE IN SPORTS PRACTICE so we ended up changing plans last minute. But nevertheless, we got an A-. Tell everyone to prepare accordingly.

Be a little lenient

Personally, when the teacher asked me to give the list of work everyone had done, i did'nt just write nothing for the members who didn't, i have even the smallest contribution because in the end, even one person's scores matters. It affects the whole damn group so be careful when you take out anger and frustration on the members when giving the list of contributions or even while doing the project. The last thing you need is drama.

Contact!

Make sure your members are comfortable enough to clear any questions or misunderstandings with you. If you don't know what's going in the group, you can't maintain the group. Be very clear that they can reach you any time.

Demo!!!

This is really important! Decide on a day and keep a demonstration of how your project is going to be presented. Do exactly as how you're going to do it infront of the teacher. Exchange some points on how to do better during the demo and discuss! It helps you to correct your mistakes.

Hope this helps! :)

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sophiria · 2 years ago

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Countless basketballs lay on the floor that night past ten, a telltale sign that the shooting guard of Shutoku High had stayed up late to practice. Mindful not to break his concentration, you left your shoes at the threshold before tiptoeing towards the center of the gym.

Midorima got into the stance needed for his shot, but his movements slowed when he glanced sideways and caught sight of your silhouette standing near the door. His seamless grip on the ball faltered, though he recovered fast enough for you to think it was a trick of the light.

"What are you doing here at this hour?" Shintarou asked you, shifting his attention back to the backboard. "It's late, and there's no one around but me."

You took a step forward. "I'm aware of that," you told him as another one of his shots went into the basket. "I'm actually here for you."

Midorima pushed back his glasses and then tilted his body towards yours. "You shouldn't be," he said flatly. "I have a game tomorrow, and you have an important test."

Despite the fleeting tension in the air, you couldn't help but smile at his words. "I had no idea you kept track of my class schedule," you mused, and his face heated up at your observation. "Anyway..." you trailed off, gnawing at your bottom lip. "I missed you."

You couldn't see it clearly, but his eyes softened. "That's another thing you shouldn't do," Midorima noted, the underlying affection in his tone contrasting his words. "It's...dangerous."

"Is it?" You wondered and began walking to approach his position. His green eyes never left your face as you closed the distance between your bodies. "I don't think being fond of someone is a disadvantage."

He fiddled with his fingertips as if the tape was still wrapped around them. "I see," Midorima replied. "You don't view our mutual attraction as a hindrance to our sports and school careers."

You placed a hand on his chest, right on his heart. "I do not—not at all," you answered earnestly. "Besides, I'm pretty sure our astrology matches are nothing short of perfect."

His lips curled into an indulgent smile. "That's absolutely certain," Midorima concurred. "If we think about our compatibility, fate is no doubt on our side."

"Mm-hmm," you agreed, your eyes twinkling in amusement as you looked up at him. "I hope it is."

He brought his left hand over yours, encasing it. "There is a possibility that our paths might diverge after the end of this year," he pointed out soberly. "Are you still willing to pursue a relationship with me knowing this?"

You entwined your fingers with his. "There's no way of knowing for certain what the future holds for us," you told him softly. "Right now, we're at the beginning of our last year...and I want to spend it with you."

The corners of his mouth lifted up in a small yet meaningful smile. "I'm quite pleased to know that we're on the same page on this, among other things," Midorima said in a warm tone. "I promise you I'll make the most of the time given to us."

You hummed with delight at his words, and then your gaze dipped to the basketball under his arms. "Are you finally going to teach me to shoot a three now?"

He touched the bridge of his glasses. "Are you doubting my commitment to one of the promises I made to you?"

You grinned at his ever-present tsundereness. "Never."

A satisfied expression crossed his face, and then Midorima took position behind you before explaining the technicalities of making a 3-point field goal. His lean, muscular arms wrapped around your frame after you took the basketball in your hands, and his hands settled on yours.

It didn't take more than a minute before your face started to heat up, and goosebumps surfaced on your skin at the warmth of his long body draped against yours. His voice deepened as he talked to you about how to position yourself, and since you weren't facing him, you missed the way his cheeks and ears flushed as your lower body pressed against his.

"I think this explanation should suffice you for now." His tone was slightly strained as he spoke to you, and you sensed that his breathing and heartbeat had quickened. "You can start shooting threes."

You murmured an okay, though you didn't move from your spot and tilted your head until your gaze met his. Midorima raised his eyebrows in question, and a soft smirk surfaced on your lips.

"I don't think I've ever seen you this blushed," you teased. His eyes widened, and he cleared his throat to shake off the embarrassment. "Can I kiss you?"

He sighed. "You can be exceedingly teasing when you want to be," Midorima grumped, and you looked up at him through your lashes. "But yes, of course you can."

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