#also because it usually comes from a place of wanting to see the guy bottoming instead of the girl topping

[bippot]

Tomorrow's Tomorrow

Story Summary -> Before and after a mission, sober or drunken, Bob wants to spend his time with just one gal. Their friends are also rather amused by his obvious crush on her and like to document their interactions.

Tags -> Friends to Lovers, Drunkenness, Drunken Shenanigans, Fluff

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"How's it going, cowboy?"

That was the greeting Bob craved every day. He felt like he needed it. If he was having the worst day of his life, he could hear that, and everything would seem brighter. And the smile she gave him? He felt like the luckiest guy on the face of Earth.

Boomerang was perfect for Bob. All of her was made for him in his mind. It was as if she was put on the globe to redden his cheeks and make his heart beat faster whenever he came within her sight.

Phoenix was the only one who picked up on the crush he had on Y/N. It was the way his spectacled gaze would linger on her for a moment too long. Or how he'd look down and smile to himself if she ever was nice to him. Or there was that one time he had just removed his helmet and his hair was all over and Y/N reached out to brush it back in place. Boy, did Bob fall silent and take the biggest gulp Nat had ever seen.

"So...Y/N, huh?" Natasha said, her voice teasing as she barged into Bob's room that he shared with Fanboy and got comfortable on his bed. When he didn't answer, she took the tip of her shoe and lightly nudged him in the bicep.

"Ew, don't touch me with that!" he whined, pushing her foot away. He had to do it several times since she kept swerving and jabbing him in different areas in an effort to get him to spill the beans. Eventually, he managed to catch her ankle and stop her from physically assaulting him. "Seriously, think about how much dirt is on the bottom of your shoe. Gross, Nat."

Natasha smirked as she watched him squirm. She found his discomfort very entertaining, and it got even more fun to watch as she taunted, "Fine, fine. It's been great catching up with you, Floyd, but I've got some hot gossip that I think Y/N, you know her - my roommate - would love to hear."

"You wouldn't!?!"

"Ah! I knew it!"

Shit. He let his head slump in defeat. As usual, Phoenix was right. Bob groaned, dragging his hand down his face as he accepted the fact that Nat would be watching his interactions with Y/N with eagle eyes and a knowing glint in them from now on. That was going to be annoying and soooo good for his confidence.

And that's how life went for a while - Bob desperately trying to seem cool and dateable to Boomerang whilst under the analytical watch of Phoenix, who was trying her best to be supportive, yet it often bordered on overbearing. He'd hardly made any 'progress', mostly because he was barely trying. It would be best if he ignored it. His crush would go away then, right?

All their conversations had been mostly platonic until one day when Bob was issued for yet another dangerous mission. The night before, a knock on his door broke him out of his preflight nerves. He opened it a crack to find Y/N smiling at him, standing on his doorstep in her pyjamas with a smallish bag on her shoulder.

"Hey, cowboy."

"Hey," he breathed, his heart pounding in his chest. "Mickey's with Ruben if you were looking for him."

"No. I was hoping to see you."

The way she said it sent a zing through his system. Bob's mouth went dry as he tried to formulate a response, so he stepped to the side and gestured that she could come inside if she wanted to.

"Nat may have mentioned that you tend to freak out before big missions and that nobody has checked up on you. So, here I am. Your knight in shining armour. Or whatever you want me to be."

Oh god, he wished that was the only thing Nat told her. No, Phoenix would never do that. Would she? No, no. Maybe? No, absolutely not.

"If you're not in the mood, just say, and I'll leave you alone. I know-"

"Stay! I mean, I'm in the mood. Not in that way, not in a sexy mood. A sociable mood and... He took a breath so his ramble wouldn't get any worse, then admitted, "I'd like you to stay."

Her wide-eyed expression was worth the embarrassment Bob had to endure. Her lips quivered upwards in amusement, and she smiled sweetly, her eyes twinkling with what seemed to be mirth and excitement. He couldn't help but smile back.

Since she had confirmation now, she reached into her bag and brought out her Switch. "That's good because I planned on completely wiping the floor with you on Mario Kart," she teased him, taking out one controller and passing it to Bob as they both sat down on his duvet.

He grinned, "Bless your heart; you're going to lose every single time, sweetheart," and if by magic, his accent became more prominent.

"Oh, it's on!"

Excitedly, the game began, their controllers in hand, as both started to laugh, play, and tease each other with ease and familiarity. It really was like nothing else mattered anymore as Bob focused on their little world. He forgot about all his problems, responsibilities, and worries for tomorrow. 

"You little fucker! How dare you blue shell me!"

"That's what you get, Floyd."

Originally, Y/N was going to take it easy on him, but he was great at the game and had managed to surprise her. With no hesitation, she took advantage of this opportunity to kick his ass and show him she wouldn't give in so easily even if he was cute as hell. He looked so adorable, all focused on the screen. His brows were furrowed, his lips pursed, and his tongue stuck out as he concentrated intensely.

It wasn't long until he noticed she had taken her eyes off the game and that they stared at him instead. Smiling sheepishly, he lowered the game controller and turned towards her, his eyes twinkling. "What? Do I have something on my face?" he asked, his cheeks flushing under her scrutiny.

"No, I'm just enjoying the sight of your face when you lose," she retorted without missing a beat. As a response, he lightly punched her on the shoulder, and she decided to go completely overboard. She clutched the area of impact and dramatically whined, "Ow, I think I've lost feeling. Fuck, it stings! You might have to amputate or something. You okay with blood? Lieutenant, you're so strong that my arm is no longer functional!"

Bob chuckled at her reaction, amused by the theatrics she was putting on but also touched that she cared enough about his well-being to try and cheer him up in such a way. A way that worked since he was feeling much better, better than he had in a while.

More and more matches were played. Y/N won a few. Bob won a few. They were on a competitive streak when Mickey returned to his room, surprised by their laughter. As he was playing, Bob had begun to fight dirty and was shielding Y/N's eyes as she tried to navigate blind.

"What place am I in?"

"Last."

"Bulshit!" She tried her hardest to wriggle away from his hand as she laughed in delight at their silliness. "Ha! I'm sixth!"

"Doesn't matter; you're still losing."

Mickey had been listening in through the door for a moment before he opened it fully and let himself in quietly, standing behind them, a large smirk on his face as he saw the scene before him - huddled together on his bed, Y/N and Bob were essentially playfighting as they kept swiping their hands in the others line of vision. 

At some point, Y/N had stolen Bob's glasses and had them perched on her nose in an effort to put him at a disadvantage, whereas Bob had squished Y/N between his back and the wall, moving his head and hand in the way of the screen at any chance he could. Mickey had never seen anything so adorable. He shook his head and quickly retrieved his phone to snap a picture before he ruined the moment.

"Hey, Boomerang," Mickey called out in a sing-song voice. Both paused what they were doing and looked at him as he distracted them from their game. "This looks cosy."

"Don't worry, we'll finish this race, then I'll let you get your precious beauty sleep, Garcia," she replied, trying her hardest to conceal how she didn't really want to leave and stop having fun.

With one final win by Bob, it was time for the pair to part ways. Following her to the door, Bob closed it behind him in an effort to get some form of privacy from Fanboy.

"Thank you, Y/N. Thank you for checking up on me."

"Anytime, cowboy." She smirked at him coyly, placing her hand on his shoulder. "I would say good luck, but with your skills? I really don't think you'll need it."

Before he could talk himself out of it, Bob brought her into a bear hug, burying his head into her shoulder, breathing deeply and trying not to sob like a child. His grip tightened when she hugged him back, pulling him closer as he tried to steady his mind. He felt like he needed to say something. Anything. But he couldn't bring himself to.

"I'll see you tomorrow. And tomorrow's tomorrow," she reassured as she pulled back to look at him, her smile brightening his entire being and causing butterflies to explode in his stomach. She leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss onto his cheek.

A million thoughts raced around in his brain, making the hairs on his arms stand up on end. Her eyes met his, a soft blush covering her cheeks as she shyly gave him a small wave, said "Night, cowboy," and departed to her room.

He stood there, stunned for a minute, until a smile slowly appeared on his face and spread uncontrollably as he realised what had just happened. He ran a hand through his hair and leaned against the door frame, trying to get his bearings. All he could feel was giddiness as he made his way back into his room.

"So...Y/N, huh?" 

"Shut up, Mickey."

Just as she thought it would, the mission went down a success. They came out the other side alive and in tip-top shape. No injuries. Nothing. Everything went perfectly according to plan, which was odd because Hangman had been chosen to fly too, and he went his own way on the occasion. 

"Tell me how good I looked getting out of my plane, Boomer," Hangman yelled over to Y/N once they landed on the ground, a huge grin splitting his face. She rolled her eyes as she walked toward him and accepted the hug that he was offering.

"You look like shit."

"Language! Baby on board might've heard that."

"Phoenix and Bob haven't landed yet."

Jake was about to say something else, but then they heard the familiar sounds of a plane getting closer and closer. They shared a knowing grin and moved away from the landing zone. A few moments later, the plane landed and the two pilots emerged in an instant.

"Bagman, you weren't insufferable. Good job, Jackass," Phoenix declared as she patted the taller man on the back.

"Praise like that warms my heart; it really does," he retorted, his joking tone attempting to hide how truthfully his statement was. But he did have a genuine smile on his face as he nodded approvingly, his pride clearly shown.

Coyote and Payback were congratulating Bob as Y/N did the same with Phoenix, and Rooster arrived on the field a few seconds later. Once he reached them, they exchanged hugs, a big grin on everyone's faces as they all congratulated each other again. In the celebration, Bob managed to catch Y/N's eye,, and she gave him a questioning thumbs up as if she were asking, 'How's it going, cowboy?' like always. He shyly returned the gesture, blushing slightly but pleased nevertheless.

In his head, Bob had it all planned out. He was going to get out of the cockpit and tug his helmet off - somehow his hair would stay perfectly styled in this dream - then he'd spot Boomerang. She'd be swooning the moment she saw him. He'd sweep her up in his arms and kiss her right there on the runway where anyone could see them. But that didn't happen. Of no fault of anyone, they happened to be dragged into conversations with other people. And by the time Bob got to her, his adrenaline had dipped significantly, and he found himself unable to go through with his plan. 

Instead, he simply stood there with his mouth open, then promptly closed it as she once again brushed his hair back into place when they were finally beside each other. "Hi," he greeted softly.

"Told you I'd see you tomorrow."

"Don't forget tomorrow's tomorrow."

And then she was hugging him and laughing and smiling, and he was drowning in the joys of being able to hug her back. The excitement and exhilaration coursed through his body in waves as she held onto him tightly, like she never wanted to let go. And in all honesty, neither did he. It didn't matter if the rest of the world could watch them - all he wanted to do was spend every single moment with this girl.

She pulled away first. She looked at him with a bright and radiant expression. He stared back at her, awestruck. Unable to look away from her. Unable to think straight. Unable to move.

The flash of a camera broke the spell. They both snapped their heads toward the source of the noise, realising that Rooster had seen the two of them and decided to immortalise it forever. He was looking at them both with a wide, stupid grin across his lips. There was no mistaking the gleam of amusement in his eyes. Bob glared at him as Y/N gave him a playful shove and muttered, "Stop smiling like that, creeper."

Unsurprisingly, The Hard Deck was where the celebration was held. Honestly, Bob wasn't much of a drinker. Sure, he'd been drinking before, but he didn't really like getting drunk all that much. Yet they'd almost died. Again. Why not? Why not have a little fun? That was the sentiment running around his head as he drank his cocktails. Why not get a little wild?

"To not dying!" Bob slurred to himself as he took a big gulp from the cocktail he'd just bought. If he was going to get wasted, the stuff he was drinking would have to taste good. That martini made him feel really wavy. The alcohol was starting to kick in; he was sure of it.

It became apparent how much it had kicked in as he walked up to Y/N as she was talking to Jake and Ruben and attached himself to her side like some sort of overly affectionate pet, swaying in time to whatever tune that was playing. She jumped at the unexpected side hug but eased when she saw who it was.

"Hey," he slurred, trying to come off as nonchalantly as he possibly could. "What are you guys talking about?"

"Bob, bud, how many drinks have you had?" Y/N questioned, looking down at his glass and then back up at his face, which was gorgeously flushed due to his intoxication. She couldn't help but smile as she watched him try to make sense of the words she spoke.

"I dunno. Like...a hundred or something?"

Hangman knew this was a golden opportunity to tease Bob. How could he not? That's how he shows affection to his friends. "Woah, one hundred? That's a world record, I'm sure," Jake barked mischievously, laughing at his friend's expense. Y/N shot him a glare and shook her head disapprovingly, but there was no denying how she smiled at his comment, no matter how hard she tried not to.

Since he was inebriated, Bob had no quals to retort, "Least I'd have a world record, man whore," and all of them let out a giggle at his insult. He then turned and looked directly at Y/N after finishing the last of his drink, a sly smirk plastered on his face. "That a good jab?"

"Great one, cowboy."

"Nice."

The other two men laughed at the scene playing out before them. But Y/N was far too distracted by Bob now, so she didn't notice. She only focused on the way he seemed to grasp at her tighter, pulling her even closer to him. It felt nice being close to him. He usually wasn't very touchy with anyone else. But it seemed that tonight was different. Why he chose Y/N to be all cuddly with, she had no idea.

But, nonetheless, she enjoyed it and was grateful for it. It wasn't every day super cute, super hot Robert Floyd decided to have a cwtch so she'd have to savour it while it lasted and it looked as if he needed some aid to stand so she wrapped her arm around his middle.

From across the bar, Rooster nudged Phoenix and gestured to their buddies. "Guess Bob's little crush is common knowledge now," Bradley joked as he sipped his beer, thoroughly amused by Bob's actions. 

"You knew too, huh?"

"He's pretty obvious about it."

"He's pretty wasted too."

No kidding. Despite being in public, Bob was completely okay with running his hand up and down Y/N's waist and squeezing it every now and then when he wanted more of her attention as she tried to carry on with the conversation she was having. Her cheeks were dusted pink, and she hoped to god that neither Hangman nor Payback wouldn't mention it because she'd never be able to live it down.

"Y/N, it's your round," Jake announced as he handed her her empty bottle. "Take your tag along and get him some water."

"Aw, man whore, maybe you do have a soul after all," she replied in a teasing voice as she gestured for Ruben to hand over his drink too. He downed it and placed it between her fingers before she walked away with Bob trailing behind her. 

"You want to sit down for a while?" she urged as she patted the bar stool next to her. He nodded, still smiling dopily as he plopped down on the plush stool and swung his feet back and forth.

Penny gave Y/N a chuckle as she saw the usual uptight and meek look that usually adorned Bob's entire existence. Now? Now he was acting like some love-sick puppy who was waiting to be given love and attention from the woman beside him, which was absolutely adorable.

"Water for him?"

"Please."

With Penny off to deal with the drinks, Y/N turned her attention back to Bob to brush some of his hair back in place. "Love it when you do that," he murmured to her, a small smile grazing his face.

"Do what?" She whispered back.

"Put your hands all on my hair. Makes me feel special, y'know, like I'm really important to ya." He reached for her hand and moved it to his cheek, brushing the pad of his thumb over her knuckles as he gazed longingly up at her. Her heart fluttered at the sight of him - his eyes were glazed over and unfocused, a soft smile tugging at his features as she started to stroke his skin with her thumb. 

"You are important to me, cowboy."

Because of her words, Bob leaned into her touch and hummed happily at the contact. Y/N smiled as her fingers traced circles into his skin, a feeling of peace spreading throughout her chest at the sight of him in such a state of contentment.

Everything about the look that was upon his face was so sweet, so caring, so...perfect. It took everything in her power not to lean forward and kiss him right then and there, to reassure herself that he was real and real and not just an illusion that she conjured in her tipsy mind. But she didn't - she didn't dare risk it. No matter how much she craved the closeness that was radiating off of him, she knew that it wouldn't be good for either of them.

"Water for the drunk lieutenant. Beer for the soon-to-be drunk lieutenants."

"Thanks, Penny," Y/N answered as she took the glasses from Penny and passed the water over to her companion as she paid. 

Bob looked at the water with confusion."It's water-flavoured vodka. Just came in," Penny lied with a smile, having persuaded intoxicated customer after customer to hydrate for their benefit. Bob nodded his thanks and downed half of his drink at once. 

After swallowing the liquid, he glanced at Y/N. "Want to try?" he asked, holding out the cup towards her.

"You keep it for yourself," she chuckled as she helped him up to his feet. As she took hold of his hands to steady him, he swayed on his feet and grinned. "Easy does it, Bambi."

Once he had somewhat stood upright, Y/N grabbed the beers and led him back to their friends, passing them around as Bob nursed his 'vodka' water. Hangman and Payback were busy playing pool, so Y/N walked over and placed a beer in Jake's hand.

"About time, sugar tits."

"Ever the gentleman, Bagman."

Time ticked on, and eventually, most of the other pilots reached a similar level of intoxication as Bob, whom they allowed to drink alcohol again and completely depleted all the effort Y/N had made to help him out. Fanboy even yelled out, "Come on, Bobby! Gotta up your drinking game, man." And Bob did just that.

Sometime during the evening, Bob had detached himself from Y/N's waist and left to use the bathroom. When he returned, she had seemingly left already. He noticed her absence immediately and found Phoenix to ask, "Where's - where's Y/N?" 

"I don't know. Outside, maybe?"

Boom. That's where he was going to stumble towards. Without another thought, he made his way outside, weaving his way through the drunken revelry and towards the back door. Once he got outside, he spotted Y/N leaning against the wall, wrapping her arms around herself as she stared at the night sky.

"Cold, darlin?"

She jumped in surprise, turning quickly around to face him, and sighed heavily in relief once she realised it was just him standing there. 

"A little."

He approached her hesitantly, as if unsure of how she might react, then he said gently, "Here." He held out his arms for her, and she gladly accepted his offer and stepped into his embrace, wrapping hers tightly around him as he enveloped her in warmth. "Better?" he whispered into her ear.

Of course, she nodded, snuggling her face into his neck and inhaling deeply. "You smell like someone spilt booze all over you."

"I did."

Both of them burst into a fit of giggles, unable to control themselves due to the amount of booze currently running through their bodies and the happiness and warmth of each other's presence. After a few seconds, though, they both calmed down and pulled away slightly to study one another's expressions.

They looked at each other for a moment longer until his eyes drifted downwards to her lips, then up again to meet her gaze. A shiver ran through Y/N, but not necessarily because of the chilly air. She could feel her pulse begin to quicken when he inched ever closer to her face until her back hit the building behind her. 

The sound of music inside was faint, and the party raging on around them only amplified the silence, yet it hardly mattered because the world suddenly seemed to slow down and stop in its tracks as he brought his lips towards hers. The kiss began softly at first, hesitant and gentle, but gradually grew in fervour and heat until it was nothing but passionate.

One thing was certain: Bob sure had no trouble giving in to the urge he felt when it came to Y/N. His tongue grazed lightly against her bottom lip, begging her to open up to him, and she obliged without any hesitation. His free hand went straight to the nape of her neck, pulling her tighter against him while the other rested firmly on her hip.

Coyote, who only came outside for a breather, came across this scene by chance and stayed silent before snapping a picture to show the rest of the gang the hot new gossip.

Luckily, that ensured that he didn't see the moment that Bob instinctively shifted his knee between her thighs in such a suggestive manner, causing a moan that escaped through her parted lips.

"Fuck, sorry," he apologised and removed his knee in an inebriated hurry. Y/N didn't seem to care, however, as she simply continued to stare down at him through her lashes, a lazy grin spread across her face.

"Don't apologise, cowboy." She reached out with one hand to push a stray strand of hair out of his face as he looked up at her in surprise."You know, Nat and Mickey are here, so that leaves both of our rooms free for a while."

Bob's cheeks blushed red. "Uh - yeah," he trailed, eyes wandering from her eyes to her lips and back again. "Yeah, that's true."

"Why don't we take advantage of that then?" 

Her words sent his brain into overdrive as he watched her smirk in anticipation of his response. In less than five seconds, Bob's face lit up into a brilliant beam as he lunged forward to capture her lips in a deep and desperate kiss, making sure he placed his hand behind her head so she wouldn't smack into the brick wall behind her. It was an answer in itself, and a very obvious one at that.

"We need to stop for two minutes for me to get an Uber."

"Don't want to stop now..." He mumbled against her lips, tightening his grip around her hip as he deepened the kiss, trying to convince her not to break apart yet. 

However, Y/N was not having any of it and slowly started to pull away, halting the kiss with a small smirk plastered on her lips. Bob pouted adorably at her for that little interruption, and she let out a laugh at his expression. 

"Two minutes."

With haste, she retrieved her phone from her back pocket and got them a ride back to their bunks. Bob tended to be a patient man, yet he couldn't wait two minutes and tried to distract her by kissing her neck, which in turn caused her to giggle with a gasp at his attention. And she had to tease, "Impatient, aren't you?"

"Only for you," he muttered into her skin, his voice filled with a deep desire for her. He felt her shiver beneath his lips and smiled smugly to himself, knowing that his words had elicited such an intense reaction from her. He pressed his lips harder against the spot, feeling the goosebumps rise on her shoulders under his mouth as he sucked a light bruise there. "I've been wanting to do that since I met you."

His words were breathy and soft, almost too quiet for her to hear them, but Y/N heard every single word perfectly. Her heart hammered hard in her chest as she tried to come up with something witty or clever to say in reply to him. All she managed to muster up was a husky, "...Good."

Eventually, the car came and they disentangled themselves to get in. The ride home was short and relatively uneventful, except for Bob's continuous grip on Y/N's thigh throughout the entire drive. The couple was soon inside Y/N's room - only because it was the closest - and she shut the door behind her.

Y/N swiftly was pulled against Bob's body, his lips capturing her own for yet another long, lingering, searing kiss that made her knees weaken at the feeling. His hands made their way under her top and caressed her bare skin lovingly as his lips moved against hers with such hunger and desire, he wasn't able to help the groan that erupted from his throat.

One of her hands slid down the front of his trousers and found his belt, undoing it swiftly and tugging his pants to the ground. Bob followed suit, removing Y/N's shirt from her body and tossing it aside before sliding his hands underneath her jeans to squeeze her ass lightly. He leaned down, burying his face in between her breasts, causing another moan to emerge from her as the feel of his warm lips on her sensitive skin set fire to the very core of her being.

"Bob..", she gasped as his teeth sunk in lightly, causing her to arch her back and throw her head back. "Let me go find a condom. You better have taken your shirt off by the time I get back."

Sleepily, he yawned, "Will do," and watched with sleepy eyes as she hurried to find protection.

It took her several moments, but once she returned from the en suite with a condom in hand, she found that he'd taken his glasses, flopped on her bed and had fallen asleep. She stared at him for what felt like forever, taking in everything about him: the slight stubble, the messy curls, the sleepy, content smile plastered across his face, and the muscular back that he hid so often. 

There was something so enchanting, so mesmerising, in how natural he looked with the moonlight through the window illuminating every inch of his handsome face. She wanted so badly to wake him up, to kiss him senseless again and again, but after seeing him in this state, she couldn't. He was too cute like this.

Instead, she climbed into the bed and covered them both in the duvet, careful not to nudge him and left a gap between them so he was not disturbed, before falling asleep herself.

By the time Phoenix had gotten back to the room she shared with Y/N, the pair had inched closer and Bob had slung his arm around Y/N's waist possessively with the tip of his nose pressing into the nape of her neck. 

Oh, Nat had to take a photo. She had to. How else was she going to update the group chat?

A few hours later, Bob woke up abruptly upon realising someone was in the same bed as him. Holy fuck! He immediately shot his head upwards and noticed that the person beside him was Y/N, his movements waking her up from her peaceful slumber. Y/N rubbed her bleary eyes sleepily and blinked a few times, before smiling at him when he sat upright.

"Morning," she greeted, her voice still hoarse from her sleepiness. She could tell just by looking at him that his memory of the night before was a little fuzzy.

"Did we? Did we you know?" he asked in a whisper, slightly blushing from embarrassment as he lowered his head shyly and scratched his cheek.

Reaching towards her bedside table, Y/N showed him the unopened condom. "You fell asleep."

"Oh, thank the lord." He let out a sigh of relief before noticing how her face fell and hurried to clarify, "No! Not like that. I meant it... like, I want to be sober when that happens. With you." Bob paused for a moment. "Not that I'm complaining about waking up next to you, of course, I like that. Just, uhm, it would be nice to remember it."

He looked away bashfully and cleared his throat, avoiding eye contact. Y/N chuckled before reaching out and grabbing his face, turning him back to face her. "Hey, hey," she said softly before giving him a quick peck on the cheek. "I think I'd like that too." She leaned over and began to place kisses all along his jawline until she came to a stop right beside his lips.  

After pausing for a moment, she leaned forward slightly and planted a gentle kiss against his lips, one of her fingers pushing his hair out of his face. He closed his eyes and tilted his head to deepen the kiss, wrapping his arms around her tightly.

"I love the fact that you two are together now, but can you shut the fuck up? I don't want to leave my bed until tomorrow afternoon," Phoenix grumbled from where she lay.

The two broke apart and laughed sheepishly at each other's antics, as if embarrassed that they had forgotten she was even there in the first place. "More sleep sounds good to me," Bob chuckled and rested back down on the pillows as he snuggled closer to Y/N, pulling her against his chest. With one final kiss to the crown of her head, both lieutenants settled down to sleep off their hangovers.

There was no way either of them would let go any time soon. Not today. Not tomorrow. Not even tomorrow's tomorrow.

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[courtmartialme]

i've never seen an actual riza liker who is adamant about her being a top it usually only comes from people who will just say it about any female character because it's an easy way to pretend to care about her while not being capable to say anything actually meaningful about the character. "this girl pegs!" you say and it's enough caring about the female character for the day like only saving the best cut of meat to offer to your gods. i'll take it seriously when i hear it from a true riza lover so we can discuss it like this

[formula-nyoom]

Grid Graduation

Platonic!Grid x Fem!Reader

Summary: Being a racecar driver and actively pursuing a higher education is a feat in and of itself. You didn't let your career get in the way of going to college. But when racing seems to prevent you from attending your graduation ceremony, your fellow drivers decide to take matters into their own hands

A/N: Congratulations to all the people that are graduating this month or next month! I hope you guys have amazing celebrations. And to my fellow college students who still have a year or years left to go, we’re going to get through it, even if it seems like hell. I know that the color of the graduation gowns can vary by college or are usually black but I went with dark blue because that was the color of my gown when I got my associates degree. 

~~~

Some people would say it's stupid to try and get a bachelor’s degree while being a race car driver. 

“You already have a career. Why would you spend all your free time off track pursuing something you don’t really need?” is the question that was constantly asked to you during interviews. Your answer: because it was important to you. It’s common knowledge that karting and racing takes up most of a driver’s life. And while most drivers are able to pursue basic schooling and education during their karting days and early single seater days, once a driver makes it higher up the racing ladder, pursuing an education becomes second to trying to be the best race car driver on track. 

You on the other hand felt that your pursuit of racing should not get in the way of your education. And thankfully with the ability to take online classes, you didn’t have that worry. 

“You’ve refreshed that page five times in the last 30 seconds.” Alex said as you two sat in the drivers lounge. It was media day so thankfully neither of you had to worry about racing and instead your worry was focused on something else.

 “Can you blame me? I’m supposed to get sent an email that tells me whether or not I graduate today and I’m dying to know.” You said, refreshing the page again. You had finally completed all the required courses you needed to graduate and get your bachelors degree. Now you were just waiting for the confirmation that all the hard work, all the study sessions you had done between and after races, and all the all nighters was worth it. 

 “Have you gotten the email yet?” You looked up from your laptop to see Logan approaching with Oscar behind him. You refreshed the page again.

 “Nope. Still nothing.” You let out a frustrated sigh. All the other drivers knew about your pursuit of a college education while also being a race car driver. They had been nothing but supportive in your efforts and could tell how worried you were about having to wait for your college’s final decision on you graduating.

 “The email will come eventually. Staring at the screen isn’t going to help.” Oscar said. 

“I suppose you’re right.” You said, refreshing the page again. You were about to close your laptop, putting the matter temporarily to rest, when the page loaded and showed you had a new email. It was from your college.

 “It’s here!” You exclaimed. You were about to open the email when you paused your finger over the mouse pad.

“I don’t think I can open this. What if they deny me? Or what if this email tells me that I still have some courses that I need to pass to graduate?” You started nervously chewing on your bottom lip as worst case scenarios started to run through your head. Logan placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder

 “(Y/N), you’ve been working your ass off the past couple years to get this degree. They’d be stupid to not let you graduate.” Logan said. 

 “I can read the email for you first if you want.” Alex offered. That seemed to calm your nerves. You handed Alex the laptop and waited with bated breath as he opened the email. Anticipation started to build as it seemed to take forever for Alex to read the first line of the email

“Congratulations (Y/N) (L/N), you have met the requirements to graduate!” Alex exclaimed.

 “Really?” You grabbed the laptop and read the first line of the email that did indeed confirm that you were graduating. Logan and Oscar started to shake your shoulders in excitement as you started to laugh from happiness.

 “I’m graduating!” You exclaimed. Logan, Alex and Oscar let out cheers of excitement as you read the first lines of the email again.

“What’s with the excitement?” Charles asked as he and Max entered the driver’s lounge.

 “(Y/N) got the confirmation that she’s graduating college.” Alex said.

“Congratulations!”Max said. He ruffled your hair while Charles gave you a hug. You were practically beaming with happiness as you started to read the email out loud. 

“Congratulations (Y/N) (L/N), you have met the requirements to graduate! We commend you for this amazing accomplishment and we’d like you to attend the graduation ceremony on….June 7th.” Your voice trailed off after reading the date and your smile slowly started to drop.

 “Are you gonna go?” Oscar asked. You shook your head.

“I can’t. We’ll all be in Canada for Free Practice.” You said. It was true. Your college’s graduation ceremony was the same week of the Canadian Grand Prix.

 “Do you think your team will let you go?” Alex asked. “I mean, you’ve done Canada multiple times and you’ll do it again. But you only really graduate college once, especially considering you're a race car driver.”

 “I don’t think (Y/N)’s team will let her go. Free Practice isn’t something you can really miss.” Max said. He was right. Attending a graduation ceremony seemed like a trivial matter compared to your career. 

 “But (Y/N)’s worked so hard for this. Surely her team will understand.” Logan said.

“No, it’s…it’s ok if I miss the graduation ceremony. I’ve been given confirmation that I’m graduating and will get my diploma in the mail later this year. That’s enough for me.” You told them. But that wasn’t really true. You would have liked to attend the ceremony. If not for just the celebration but also for the sense of normalcy away from the racetrack and responsibilities of being a Formula One driver. 

 “Well we can still celebrate right? Maybe get all the drivers together for a dinner?” Charles suggested. You smiled a bit.

 “Yea Charles. A dinner would be nice. This is still a cause for a celebration. Even if I can’t go to the official one.”

Dinner with the other drivers was a nice celebration. It helped you forget about not being able to attend the graduation ceremony for a while. But the week of the Canadian Grand Prix seemed to bring up that fact again. It seemed the media wanted to remind you too.

 “Well, before we start taking questions, I’d like to say congratulations to you, (Y/N). It was recently let known that you’ve graduated college and now have a bachelor's degree.” The media commentator for the drivers press conference said to you as you sat on a couch next to George, Lando, Lewis, and Zhou. 

“Thank you. If I didn't have to be here in Canada, I'd actually be attending the graduation ceremony, which is happening tomorrow. But racing takes priority.” You smiled to hide some of your disappointment, but the other drivers seemed to notice.

 “I’m sure you and your family are proud of all your efforts. Maybe some of the drivers too?” The interviewer said, motioning to the drivers next to you.

“I’m insanely proud of (Y/N) for what she’s accomplished. She’s shown that racing shouldn’t get in the way of pursuing an education.” Lewis said.

 “I will say, (Y/N) has worked harder than anyone else on the grid.” Zhou said. 

“She won’t admit it herself though.” George said, nudging your side. You shook your head.

“In terms of something like this, even if I can’t attend a graduation ceremony, I’m proud of all the work I’ve done.” You said.

 “Well, I hope you celebrate or have already celebrated what is an immense accomplishment.” The interviewer said.

 “Me and the other drivers on the grid actually went out to dinner to celebrate the day I found out I was graduating to make up for the fact that I can’t attend the ceremony. It was a really nice dinner and I’m glad I have friends to celebrate my accomplishments with.” You smiled at your friends sitting next to you. They smiled back, but for a different reason. 

Despite your efforts to hide your disappointment, your fellow drivers could tell how upset you were about not being able to attend your graduation ceremony. And while the dinner was indeed nice, they wanted you to have a proper celebration for such an immense accomplishment.

That’s how George and Lando ended up knocking on your driver’s room door after interviews and media responsibilities were done for the day.

 “Hey guys. What’s up?” You asked as you opened the door for them.

“Put this on.” Lando handed you a bag with what you assumed had to contain clothing.

 “Why? What is it that you have handed me?” You gave him a skeptical look.

“Open the bag and find out.” Lando said. You did as he instructed and pulled out something made of dark blue fabric. At first you thought it was a dress, but unfurling it revealed to be a graduation gown. You tried not to frown. The only need for something like this would be for graduation photos, which you had already taken. But Lando and George were insistent and you decided to amuse their idea for now and put it on.

“Now what? You want me to get into a race car and drive around the track in a graduation gown?” George and Lando just laughed.

 “I don’t think the FIA will allow that. At least not in just the gown.” Lando said.

“Of course you can’t have the gown without the cap.”  George handed you a graduation cap with a tassel in your team color. The cap was decorated with a little race car on top that had a diploma trailing behind it. 

 “What’s…what’s all this for?” You asked, while putting the cap on. You don’t know why you decided to put the cap on, but did so anyway.

“It’s for your graduation ceremony of course.” Lando said. You frowned.

 “There’s no way I can attend that ceremony.” You said.

“We’re not talking about your college’s graduation ceremony. We’re talking about the one that’s happening right now.” George said. “Come on.”

George and Lando ushered you out of your driver’s room and started to lead you somewhere. You still looked at them with confusion. 

 “We already celebrated during that dinner.”

“But it wasn’t a proper ceremony.” Lando said, leading you towards the track entrance. By now, you were starting to suspect what George and Lando were up to. It wasn’t confirmed until they led you to the start line.

“You guys did not….” Rows and rows of chairs were set up on the track with a makeshift aisle in the middle. Each chair was filled with one of your fellow drivers or members of your team. Tears started to well up in your eyes at the realization of what was happening. 

 “We wanted you to have a proper graduation ceremony.” Lando said, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you into a side hug. Now you were trying really hard not to cry.

 “C’mon. Everyone’s waiting for you.” George said. He and Lando walked you past all chairs, the drivers and team members applauding you as you walked past. 

Lewis and Fernando were standing at what was designated the stage and greeted you with a hug and a whispered “congratulations” as you approached. 

 “Shall we get started then?” Lewis, who had been designated the commencement speaker, said to get everyone’s attention. Everyone quieted down and took a seat

“We are gathered here to recognize the immense accomplishments of (Y/N) (L/N) in her pursuit of a higher education in the form of a bachelor's degree. Not only has she strived for what many have wanted to achieve, but did so while also managing the life of a Formula One driver. That is something not many can do.” Lewis said.

 “I now ask for Fernando to present the graduate with their diploma.” Fernando walked over to you and handed you a piece of paper, then the two of you shook hands as formality of a traditional graduation ceremony while George quickly snapped a photo. You looked at the “diploma” that was handed to you and couldn’t help but let out a laugh. It was a diploma template that you could find on the internet that included your name and the name of your college. Though the official seal had your team logo on it. 

“I now ask the graduate of 2024, to move your tassel from right to left and signify your newfound graduation status.” Lewis said. By now, it was getting really hard to try and keep the tears in as you moved the tassel from right to left. Lewis smiled.

 “It is my pleasure to present (Y/N) (L/N) as the grid’s graduating class of 2024.” Everyone stood up and applauded you. At this point you couldn’t keep the tears in any longer and started to cry but also cheer. Lewis pulled you into a hug, followed by Fernando, then Lando and George and it got to the point of just being a big group hug full of drivers.

 “Go on, toss the cap!” Logan exclaimed once the group hug broke away. Chants of “Toss it! Toss it!” started to echo till you took the graduation cap off and tossed it into the air, signifying that all that hard work was worth it.

[icequeenlila]

oblivious Vander x jealous Silco

“See those girls over there? They seem plenty interested”, Silco said, taking another sip from his drink.

He had to switch to beer like half an hour ago, because working in the mines only paid you so much. Vander watched with a chuckle as his friend scrunched his nose at the bitter taste.

“Y’ could probably walk over ‘n simply grab one by the wrist”, Silco slurred, and Vander couldn’t help but huff out a laugh at the way the man’s eyes went a little cross-eyed as he checked the bottom of his empty glass.

It was the weekend and they were both well beyond wasted. They’d come here with Felicia, but as usual the girl had scuttered off to chat up every single person who was willing to listen. She was an extraordinary yapper on a normal day, the alcohol only boosted her confidence.

“Not interested”, Vander said after a brief glance towards the giggely group of girls. “I’m too comfortable here.”

It was true. The booze had warmed up his body and his mind felt comfortably numb. The booth he and Silco were sitting in was cozy, and their legs were entangled beneath the table. His mouth was curled into a constant smile, as usually when he was drunk.

Silco looked up at him with droopy eyes, his chin resting on one hand. He quirked an eyebrow at Vander, the usual sharp expression softened by too much booze. Vander would have to make sure his friend made it home safe, later.

“You’re the only guy I know who’d pass on that”, Silco said, lifting the glass to his lips.

Vander chuckled at the comment, watching as Silco threw back his head to make the last drops of liquor pour into his mouth. He watched Silco’s Adams apple bob up and down, transfixed by the motion.

The cozy warmth that had settled in his body suddenly felt like thrumming heat. Vander tightened the grip on his own drink, unable to look away. Silco’s neck was long and pretty and bared to Vander entirely. If he wanted, he could simply reach across the table and wrap his hand around his friend’s neck. He bet his fingers would encircle it entirely, his thumb placed on Silco’s Adams apple, feeling it work beneath soft skin.

God, he had to lay off the booze.

Vander almost jumped in his seat when Silco suddenly slammed the heavy glass onto the table, letting out a monster of a belch from the depths of his chest, successfully putting an end to the inappropriate daydream he was having.

Instead, Vander felt the muscles in his belly pull tight as he doubled over laughing. He loved this about drunk Silco; past a certain alcohol level, he lost his manners.

“I hate beer”, Silco muttered, frowning at his empty glass. “We need more.”

“I think you’re done for today”, Vander said, his voice still shaky with laughter. He wiped a tear from his eye, leaning back against the cushioned booth. “You just outdid Felicia’s death-belch.”

Silco looked at him, unimpressed. “I bet she would argue with you on that.”

He moved to stand, but Vander hooked his foot behind Silco’s heel beneath the table, making him slip and flop back down into his seat.

Silco blinked at him, then he looked down at the table, then back at him.

Another chuckle escaped Vander. He loved how his friend lost all his elegance after one too many drinks.

“Got a problem, Bozo two?” Silco quirked a brow at him.

Vander shook his head, a fond smile tugging at his lips. “Not at all”, he said. “I just think it’s time to go home.”

Silco cocked his head. “And I think I need another drink.”

Again, he moved to stand, and again, Vander stopped him from doing so.

“That's bullying”, Silco said, tone dry. “I’m gonna tell Felicia.”

Vander was still smiling. “I think she’ll side with me on this one.”

“Really?” Another quirk of Silco’s eyebrow. “You think Queen Booze will agree?”

“In this case, yes”, Vander said, resting his chin in one hand. “Also, other than you, she’s able to hold her liquor.” He reached out, flicking the strand of hair that always hung into Silco’s face. “As much as I like to hold your pretty hair when you need to throw up, I believe you wanna spare yourself the experience.”

Silco crossed his arms, giving him a sarcastic smile.

Vander chuckled at the sight. Silco looked so pretty in the dimmed light of the bar. Of course he looked pretty in every light. Vander really had to lay off the booze.

“You’re such a nanny”, Silco muttered, looking out at the crowd.

Vander grinned at the comment. “Someone has to take care of you.”

He could see Silco roll his eyes, and his smile grew even wider.

His friend had put on eyeliner, like he always did when they were going out. After spending half the night dancing and sweating, it had gotten slightly smudged, drawing a fine black shadow beneath his pretty eyes. It made the pale blue of his eyes pop out even more.

“Your fan club is staring at us again”, Silco muttered. Vander quirked a brow at the displeased tone in his friend's voice.

He followed Silco’s gaze and found the group of girls whispering and giggling to each other, one of them waving over at him. He gave a short acknowledging nod, which was enough to have them cheering in hushed voices and sticking their heads together in excitement.

Vander chuckled at their antics before turning away. He looked back at Silco, finding him in an increasingly bad mood. He could tell by the crinkle between his eyes and the little pout on his lips.

Vander thought he looked cute like that. Again, he reminded himself to quit drinking for today.

Silco wasn’t looking at Vander, his arms still crossed.

“Hey, Bozo one”, Vander teased. “What are you thinking about?”

Silco gave him a short side glance, before looking back at the dancing crowd. “I’m thinking that I need another drink.”

He sounded almost grumpy now. Another thing Vander loved about drunk Silco; no filter.

“What?” Vander tugged at a dark strand. “You're jealous because I have a fan club and you don’t?”

He tugged again, and finally Silco turned to face him. The glare had deepened on his face.

“Sure”, he muttered. “That’s my problem.”

Vander cocked his head at the sarcastic tone in his voice. A down side of himself getting a little too drunk; he grew slow, especially when it came to social interaction.

Silco caught the questioning look on his face, and quickly deflected.

“Usually I have the suitors lining up, and you know it”, he said, holding his nose a little higher. “You’re just scaring them off tonight.”

A chuckle escaped Vander. “What, because I’m not standing behind the bar for once?”

“Exactly”, Silco said with a shrug of his shoulder. “People think I’m here with you.”

Vander frowned. “You are here with me.”

Like he said before; slow.

Silco studied his face, searching for something there.

“Not what I meant”, he said after a while.

Vander frowned harder, and Silco rolled his eyes.

“I have to use the bathroom”, Silco said, detangling his feet from Vander’s. “See you in a few. If you’re still here then.”

“Where would I go?”, Vander asked as he watched his friend stand up.

Silco looked down at him with his pretty, blue eyes, and an expression that said ‘really?’ inside them.

Vander kept staring up in his pretty blues. He realized the booze had gotten to him more than he’d thought in the beginning.

When he still wouldn’t get it, Silco let out a defeated sigh, slipping out of the booth. His eyes caught on that group of girls again. Vander didn’t understand how they bothered him that much. He himself wouldn’t even have noticed them if Silco wouldn't have pointed it out to him.

Their giggling became pretty loud now; another thing Vander wouldn’t have noticed if Silco wasn’t staring at them so intently.

“On second thought”, Silco muttered when he watched one of the girls get up as if to come over. Her fellow friends cheered her on. “Take me home.”

Vander raised his eyebrows. “Huh?”

Silco turned to face him, blue eyes locking on his, and a demanding hand held out to him. “I’ve had enough drinks. Take me home.”

+

Second Part

Wrote this out of a mood. It ends here bc my sis came in and asked me to play Mario Cart with her.

[ethereacals]

10 Things I HATE About: You.

summary: James is starting to get desperate when Lily continues to reject his attempts to date her, as she reveals she's not allowed to date until her completely opposite twin sister does. which seems highly unlikely, (thats why its such a good rule). so James comes up with a grand plan to get Sirius to date her, what could go wrong?

(literally just the story of 10tihay)

wc: 1,585

pairings: evans!slytherin!reader (jeezus thats a mouthful) x sirius black

tropes: grumpy x sunshine, because of a bet

contents: angst? (if that's what we call it) to comfort, happy ending, james doesn't think before he does something, mulciber is sexist (but what’s new)

a/n: this will come in two maybe three parts so stay tuned!

Pt.1-3

(ON INDEFINITE HIETUS)

TO PUT THINGS LIGHTLY: you didn't give a damn about your bad reputation.

Lily on the other hand? did, very much so.

Which is one key reason she didn't appreciate James Potter chasing her around like a lost puppy dog 24/7 365.

Yet she was (unfortunately) falling for James, but couldn't do anything about it since she was forbidden to date by her father until you did, her twin sister.

you guys were insanely different, like night and day.

Lily was a goody-two-shoes, good grades, kept her mouth shut, a clean record.

You on the other hand- while you had also good grades, your record was not clean.

but between having shouting matches with Lucius and Severus about their sexist tendencies or muggleborn rights:

you'd been in detention quite a few times.

but people always seemed to think you were a scary, bitch of a slytherin.

but it's not like many of the slytherin's liked you always, you were a muggleborn after all.

not to mention; relationships made you want to hurl.

and Lily detested you for that.

"Can't you just be a normal person with normal person interests for once!?"

"now, where's the fun in that?" You reasoned from your spot on the library's couch.

"Y/n, Please? You know I like him." Lily begged, her bottom lip jutted out in a stupid pout.

"And? You shouldn't, Lils. He's actually daft." She groaned irritatingly.

"Where are you from? Planet Loser?"

"As apposed to Planet 'Look At Me, Look At Me!'"

"Sirius, Sirius- Please!" James pleaded from his position below Sirius, up on top his knees.

"James, you are quite literally asking me to do the impossible."

"Sirius- She can't date, until Y/N does... and- and you, you my handsome friend- can date her- so I can date Lily!"

James had his hands holding desperately onto Sirius'.

"500 Galleons." Sirius ripped his hands away from James, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Deal."

They shook on it.

You found it quite odd, how it seemed like you were being stalked all of the time.

You were at quidditch practice when a boy with medium length, raven hair came up to you.

you knew exactly who this was.

"Hi, love." he took your sweaty hand and placed a soft kiss on the back of it.

"Sirius, Sirius Black." he flashed that 'Sirius Black Grin'.

"I'm well aware." You smiled begrudgingly.

"You don't seem incredibly happy to see me, Evans." He just kept on grinning, grinning like he won the Quidditch World Cup or something.

"I'm not, Black. Please leave me alone." You gathered up your things quickly, wanting to get out of his sight.

Sirius seemed a bit put down, nobody had ever been this insistent to get away from him.

usually girls would through themselves at him.

not you though.

he liked that.

very much so.

He cleared his throat. "So, Friday then?"

you stopped walking, turning your head back to him.

"Friday? what about Friday?" You scoffed.

"I'll pick you up on Friday to go on a date."

Damn, that was smooth, even you had to admit it.

"No thank you." you weren't sure what emotion to feel at that moment- embarrassment, annoyance, irritation.

but so far, his plan wasn't working.

but it will.

you had walked off long before he left the pitch, before returning to James in the courtyard.

He slumped against a tree, sighing with annoyance.

"We're screwed." He groaned pessimistically.

"Come on, Pads. Be a bit optimistic."

"We're screwed!" He cheered sarcastically.

The days following were odd, and more annoying then usual.

Sirius Black wouldn’t cease following you around.

Slytherin had a Quidditch Game that day, and you really couldn’t stand Mulciber and Avery’s constant berating of the fact a girl was Slytherins seeker.

“You know— Mulciber, L/N is actually one of the best seekers we’ve had at Hogwarts in years.” Sirius explained proudly.

“but it seems that you can’t wrap your utterly sexist brain around that.” He cooed, Mulciber turned as red as lava.

“She’s only there for eye candy, Black. you understand she’s a filthy mud blood, right?” Mulciber barked, Sirius then wondered; with all this barking he’s doing, maybe he’d like me to throw a stick?

“and what has that got to do with absolutely anything?”

“come on, Black. don’t act like you are this muggles rights activist, you’re a Black.”

Sirius hated being reminded of that fact, he had ran away over a year ago.

“and— besides, L/n is only on the Quidditch Team because she has good tits.”

Sirius clenched his fists, before he shot towards Mulciber in an angry rage.

only he was allowed to say you had good tits.

the punches flew as Avery stood at his spot by the wall, his face not having any color what so ever. he looked like he had seen a ghost.

obviously, all good things must come to an end. as McGonagall stormed out of her office to take points away from both houses, and to instruct Avery to take Mulciber to the hospital wing and then to Detention along with Sirius.

in Sirius’ book, it was worth it.

“he got detention? for you?” Dorcas repeated for about the seventh time in the past three minutes.

“Yes, Dorcas.” You were disgusted by what Mulciber had said about you.

“come on, sugar. everyone here knows you have lovely tits.” Barty mentioned from his place shoved (lovingly) into Evan’s armpit while gnawing on his bicep.

“okay— yeah, whatever. but i certainly don’t need to hear about it from Mulciber and his pet rat.”

You bid farewell to your friends before returning to your dorm.

and you couldn’t wait to plop down on your bed and watch a movie, that was your ideal thursday night.

until something was in the way, and by something i mean a giant bouquet of flowers and by in the way i mean they were right smack in front of your door.

“You have to be fucking kidding me.”

you held a tiny note in your hand, having plucked it from the flowers seconds earlier.

“Dear Y/n.”

“don’t listen to Mulciber, he’s harmless. (and jealous that you actually made the quidditch team.) i siriusly (haha, get it?) want to take you out on the finest of dates tomorrow night, would you please accept?”

(: -sirius b. ps. you looked very nice today.

a smile cracked from your lips, before shaking it off and picking the flowers up off the floor.

a date? with you?

why would he want a date with you? where was this obsession coming from?

you supposed you could do it as an act of public service, (to yourself that is) since it would probably not be enjoyable enough for the both of you.

and he did just beat someone up for you.

so why not indulge in him for an evening?

Friday Night had rolled around and you were nervous, he’d only been talking to you since monday and you weren’t sure if you shared the feelings.

but after that night, everything changed.

Sirius was sweet, lovable, and overall not how he seemed.

On the outside, you perceived him as this immature, prankster of a boy who hadn’t gotten enough attention as a child so he felt the need to beg for it everywhere he went.

but on the inside? he was soft, kind, and on top of that he was a gentlemen (which was very unexpected).

“I’m sorry.” you noted.

“sorry for what, dollface?” he chuckled.

“I misjudged you.” Sirius’ brain clogged with worry.

“how did you perceive me before?”

“well— i thought you were immature.” you began, not easing his worries one bit.

“and… i thought this was all a big prank.”

“it’s not.” he quickly answered, but it was, he was lying.

it wasn’t a prank per say, but it was a bet.

which may have been worse.

"Pads!" James yelped, sprinting towards him once he came back from your date.

"Prongs." Sirius greeted him cordially.

"So? How'd it go?" He sat down like he was the best friend character in a 2000s movie hearing about the main characters date with her crush.

"Good, She seems like a nice person."

"Pads, you seem all down in the dumps." James frowned, wrapping an arm casually around his best friend's shoulders.

"What's got your mind going?" Remus did the same as the former, leaning onto him gently.

"well- I'm not sure about this, I may be a bastard but I don't want to hurt her. She thinks I'm being serious."

The worst part about this was: that Sirius was already feeling serious about it, as Serious as Sirius could be.

Seriouser then he's ever Sirius'd.

but you didn't deserve this.

and boy, did he feel shit about it.

[remlionheart]

Growing Pains

part three

♡ˎˊ˗ hiiii, welcome to the final installment of the fic that’s taken over my life for the last four months ♡ ̆̈ be sure to start here if you're new ♡ moving on from this story will be emotional i can’t lie, i've gotten way too invested in this but i'm very happy that i was able to see it through and hopefully do it justice. what started off as a small idea turned into something much bigger and i'm so thankful for all of the love and support you guys gave me. i love u all SO much, thanks for sticking with me on this ♡ biblically-cannon-megumi x fem!reader. slow burn. hurt / comfort. aged up characters. forced proximity. (light) enemies to lovers. eventual smut. this is what jjk could've been if fushiguro was the main character and gege would’ve been hugged as a child. lemme know whatcha think, luv u ♡ˎˊ˗

₊⊹♡ MDNI ₊⊹♡

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

You'd lied for him.

Despite absolutely everything– despite your better judgement, despite the sick, burning sense of anxiety that had taken over your mind and body, you'd still... covered for him. Giving Gojo vague and concise answers, fabricating lies to make Megumi's late-night disappearances seem less concerning than they actually were. Telling him that it'd just started happening instead of admitting that it'd actually been going on for nearly two months. Painting a soft, false picture that he was usually only ever gone for an hour at a time though there had been several nights he hadn't made it back until nearly 4 in the morning. Mending his worries with whatever reassuring words you could string together to make him loosen up on his questioning until he'd finally closed the door to your dorm, leaving you with a poignant– "If anything else happens, you come find me."

You weren't sure how you'd managed to hold it together so well, but the minute it was just you alone with your thoughts again, you found your hands trembling as you rushed over to his side of the room. Reminding yourself to breathe while you rummaged through his bookshelf and nightstand for any sort of explanation.

Going through his things felt wrong, but not going through them would've somehow felt worse. If you'd learned anything from your time spent with him, it was that Megumi Fushiguro was a lot of things, but deceitful without cause wasn't one of them. He wasn't the type to lie for no reason. He held his secrets unreasonably close to his chest but never out of malice. If he was hiding something, if he was lying to you, Gojo, Nobara, and Yuuji– arguably the only people he'd ever really let in, it wasn't because he wanted to.

His belongings were every bit as organized and well-guarded as he was though, hardly anything seeming suspicious or out of place no matter how many journals and textbooks you searched through. You were trying to be as meticulous as you could, doing your very best not to acknowledge the race against the clock you knew were up against or the ever-increasing weight that was sitting on your chest as you reached for the only book left– the one that you'd gifted him for his birthday.

You pushed past your body's consternation, carefully flipping through the pages when finally, a folded up loose-leaf piece of paper fell out of it, making your heart completely abandon any semblance of a steady rhythm.

It was a series of bullet-points mostly, jotted down information about reversed curse techniques and different types of healing abilities that didn't seem to go in any particular order. You were almost afraid that you'd hit another dead-end until your eyes landed on the bottom of the page. Your legs suddenly struggling to keep you upright as you trailed over his handwriting, all of the rigid pieces of the last few months gradually beginning to unravel and connect.

"Technique Name: 'Kokoro Kiri' - also known as Heart Severing," it read, "is a reversed curse technique developed to manipulate, distort, and erase memories by severing the spiritual and emotional connections tied within a person's mind. This technique utilizes cursed energy to fracture the target's emotional bonds to certain experiences and people, effectively making them unable to access specific memories."

The page nearly slipped from your grasp, your hand suddenly shaking beyond your control as you forced yourself to take a seat on the edge of his bed. Your breathing was alarmingly uneven, tears desperately trying to push their way out no matter how hard you fought to keep them at bay. As much as you wanted to lie to yourself– to naively choose to believe that all of this somehow wasn't directly related to you, you couldn't.

Reality had you backed into a corner with its steel grip locked firmly around your neck and there was no escaping it.

Your vision was blurry, the words almost bleeding together as you continued on to the last paragraph, "Memory Fragmentation– typically performed by a healer, is used to destroy emotional and cognitive connections attached to selected memories or selected people in the target's mind. In some extreme cases, a skilled enough user may even have the capability to erase large portions of their target's past or sever bonds between them and a specified individual. Unlike memory manipulation or distortion, this ability creates a void in the target's mind, leaving them with a permanent sense of disconnection from who or what was once there."

The oxygen had all but vanished from the room as you stared back at his words, a devastatingly cruel fate laid out in such pretty handwriting. It was hard to fathom, that the same hands that had touched you so gently– the ones that had played with your hair until you'd fallen asleep, the ones that had tangled into yours on the nights that neither one of you wanted to be alone were the same ones that had been carrying around the weight of this plan all along.

You knew him well enough to know that this wasn't something he'd just decided on– no, nothing Megumi ever did was half-thought-out or impulsive. He was unbearably analytical. Annoyingly thorough when it came to most things, but especially research. He'd never bother to waste his time on variables or flimsy possibilities. If he was going to do something, he had to be impossibly sure that it would work, which meant that this… this must've been a guarantee.

All of those moments of hesitation– both big and small. The layers of distance and formality. The harsh, venomous silence that he used to separate himself from you. They all finally made sense.

"Itadori. Kugisaki. Anyone else here that you meet, for that matter," he'd said, "they’re not your friends.”

The tears that streamed down your face were painful and completely unavoidable as you pulled your knees up to your chest, letting your head rest against your arm while his words continued to haunt you.

“You can’t avoid it forever." The way he'd said it had felt so cold and unwarranted at the time. "You’re gonna have to get used to loss and to keeping everyone you meet at a distance." But it'd never occurred to you until now just how necessary that conversation actually was.

It had been a warning, not for you, but for himself.

Your body was numb, mind completely overrun with questions that you weren't sure you even wanted answers to, and they just kept multiplying the longer you sat with it all.

You allowed yourself another minute to breathe before slowly unfolding your legs and using the sleeve of your hoodie to dry your cheeks. Letting your eyes drift over the page one last time as you carefully tucked it into his book again and got to your feet, wedging it back into the spot you'd taken it from.

Would he have told you? Or would you have woken up one day with a void in the place that he should've been, not even realizing that something was missing? How far did this go, exactly? If there were different degrees of memory fragmentation, where did his interest in using it begin and where did it end?

The only real thing that made sense to you was that this must've been some sort of loophole to negate his contract with Yaga. To either free you from Jujutsu Society as a whole or to break his tie to you. It was too late at this point though– after everything that had happened, you didn't want to go down either of those paths and the fact that he did, the fact that he had somehow come to terms with the entirety of this... it made you realize that maybe you'd never actually known him at all.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket, abruptly pulling you back to reality as his name flashed across the screen: "No project tonight," it read, "it'll finally just be us."

You stared at the text, unable to even write back a simple reply with how hard it was to keep yourself standing upright and steady. Your thumbs hovered above the keys, almost typing, but never actually letting a full thought form before another blue bubble popped up from him: "I wish it could always just be us."

Tears were instantly pricking at the corners of your eyes again, your insides burning as your chest constricted. Precarious but determined fingertips spelling out the last bit of honesty that seemed to exist between the two of you–

"It could’ve been...”

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

He was frozen in place, the cold chill of the abandoned church that they'd been assigned to suddenly feeling like the very least haunting thing he was up against as he stashed his phone back into his pocket. Nothing had gone right since you'd dropped the three of them off. They'd been stuck in the same cathedral for hours and still hadn't found so much as a trace of cursed energy despite how small the area was.

Everyone was getting worn down and frustrated, but they didn't have the luxury of coming back empty-handed. His concern should've been on finding a solution, on checking the place over again to see if there was a hidden door or passageway that they'd somehow missed– something, anything that might lead them to the cursed object they were supposed to find. But instead, the only thought occupying his scattered, sleep-deprived mind was your use of the word "could've". The concise, intentional past-tense bite it had to it.

You were more similar to him than he'd care to admit, clumsy with your words at times and prone to rambling when nervous, but just like him, you never spoke out of turn. You were tactful. Soft-spoken, yet very deliberate when it came to expressing your feelings.

"Could've been" felt like a serrated knife because it was meant to. "Could've been" held the weight of a threat because it was one. "Could've been" implied that you knew something because–

"God, this is a pain in the ass," Kugisaki huffed, rolling a piece of rubble under her shoe as Fushiguro found himself actually pacing the longer he mulled over it. "We've looked damn near everywhere, there's nothing here!"

"Maybe Gojo gave us the wrong coordinates." Itadori shrugged, plopping himself down on one of the concrete pews as he stretched his arms behind his head.

Gojo.

Why did everything in his god-forsaken life have to lead back to Gojo?

You were the only two people at Jujutsu High with everyone else being out on missions– of course he'd tried to talk to you to see how things had been going. Gojo was constantly keeping tabs on him, always poking around to see how he was doing even when it was none of his concern. And you, being you– you'd probably been honest with him, not understanding how consequential your answers were.

The picture had become excruciatingly clear to him, what must've led up to that one single text from you. There was no wishful thinking left, no maybes or what-ifs that could possibly free him from this hell that you were both aware of now. Reality had him in the same chokehold it had you in, its grip just as merciless around his throat too– you knew and the only thing he could do was accept it.

He drew in a sharp breath, running a staggered hand over his face as his footsteps finally came to a pause. "We're withdrawing for now."

Kugisaki's eyes snapped up towards his, a blend of relief and confusion sweeping over her as she blinked back at him. "You sure?"

Fushiguro had never backed down from an assignment. Never tapped out no matter how long or grueling a mission was, but this was different. He could barely focus on anything, could barely keep himself present and coherent let alone concentrate on piecing together the layout of this abandoned building.

He needed to talk to you. Needed to get back to his room as soon as he could. It was the first time in his life that his emotions had managed to overrule his logic. Whatever was here clearly wasn't as threatening as it was thought to be– it could wait, you couldn't.

He pulled his phone from his pocket, shooting you a text to let you know that they were ready as he motioned for Itadori and Kugisaki to follow him.

"We'll come back tomorrow," he reasoned, trying to sound more sure of himself than he actually was, "we can talk to Gojo about it in the morning and reconvene when we have more information, but there's no sense in staying here all night."

He knew neither of them would fight him on the decision, they'd both been practically half-way out the door before he'd even said anything anyway.

He stuffed his hands into his jacket, a sobering gust of late-winter air swirling around him as they stepped outside and started heading towards the cafe that you'd dropped them off at earlier.

Nervousness wasn't a feeling he knew well, but it had become a deep, painful pit in the center of his stomach the closer they got to you. There was so much he had to explain, so many agonizing words that he had to somehow make seem acceptable even though they were anything but.

He hesitated as he reached for the car door, his eyes meeting yours with all the caution in the world before he finally settled into the passenger's seat and gently reached over to rest the palm of his hand on your thigh, almost flinching at the idea of you pushing him away. It was hard to process that you'd somehow become both the cause and the remedy to his distress.

Your voice was even, your composure seemingly in-tact, but the way you looked at him... your glossy, defeated stare told a completely different story than the nonchalant facade you were putting on for your friends.

The ride back was unnervingly calm– you, Itadori, and Kugisaki all chatting back and forth, the volume of the radio getting turned up and down every few minutes depending on the song, Kugisaki's laughter echoing from the backseat at something Itadori had said. He found his grip tightening around your leg in a feeble attempt to stop his racing thoughts while his head rested against the window when the warmth of your hand landed on top of his. Your eyes subtly drifting over to him with more reassurance than he deserved.

His heart was lodged in his throat by the time you pulled into the parking lot, each step feeling more damning than the last as you made your way to the dorms until you'd finally reached the end of the hall. You both waved and said your goodnights to Itadori and Kugisaki before you dug your key out of your hoodie and opened the door, leaving him alone with you and the truths he couldn't possibly say.

It was quiet, the tension in the room absolutely suffocating as you stripped out of your coats and put your uniforms away, dodging glances from each other while changing into your usual sleepwear. He took a seat on the side of his bed, his pulse ringing through his ears as he watched you put your hair up in the mirror.

He could see your apprehension– the internal debate of whether to say something or stay silent. The indecision of retreating back to your bed or his. It was in every movement you made, every small detail of your mannerisms plagued with a sense of uncertainty that made him ache.

He swallowed hard as he reached his hand out to you, "Can you–" He cleared his throat, watching you slowly turn to face him. "Can you come here?"

The same hurt he was feeling was reflected in your gaze, your breathing coming to a visible stop as you struggled to look back at him.

"Please?"

His voice was barely a whisper, wavering and broken but still strong enough to pull you in.

You turned off the light before taking his hand, letting his arms wrap around you as you burrowed yourself into his chest. The familiar scent of him settling your nerves while his lips pressed against the top of your head and his fingertips began drawing soft, hazy patterns along your shoulder. The two of you welcoming the calm silence that followed as you sank further into the safety of one another.

Growing up, you'd never really known if home was supposed to be a place or a feeling. You'd lost it so many years ago, you figured there wasn't much sense in giving significance to a word that didn't belong in your vocabulary anymore anyway, but finally being with him after the day that you'd both had... You quickly realized that maybe it still did exist after all– not as a place or a feeling, but as both. It was here, right inside the small space between you. It was this, the sound of his heart beating steadily against your temple.

It was him and there was going to come a day where you'd wake up without the privilege of even being able to remember the beauty of what you'd lost.

Your chest heaved against your will, tears soaking his shirt as they spilled down your cheeks, the weight of it all becoming far too crippling to bear. Your arms locked around his waist desperately. Hopeless, childlike thoughts suddenly soaring through your mind like– maybe if you held onto him tight enough, you could somehow stay here forever, maybe if you could find the right things to say then time wouldn't have to carry on.

His grasp mirrored yours, holding you as steady as he could while letting out soft little nothings that all bled together, “Shh, it's okay. I've got you." and "Please breathe, I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere."

He was dangerously close to his own breaking point too though, the only thing holding him together was the need to be strong for you. His resolve was crumbling, every wall he'd ever built absolutely annihilated by the feeling of your nails digging into his sides as you clung onto him like he was the most important thing in the world.

"I don't–want–" you shook your head at the thought, your words choppy and almost impossible to get out. "I don't... want to– leave you."

He let out a semblance of an exhale, fighting to keep his hands from shaking as he guided you down onto the bed with him so that you were both laying down with his arms still wrapped around you and your head back on his chest.

The way you trembled against him as he ran his fingers through your hair was the exact reason why he'd kept all of this hidden in the first place– the same reason why he'd tried so hard to keep his distance from you. This pain would've always been inevitable for him, but it shouldn't have been for you.

He continued to brush away your tears, more reassuring whispers spilling out every so often until your body finally started to relax. Your breathing gradually coming back down to a normal pace while his thumb traced along your neck.

"If it were up to me," he swallowed, forcing his vision to stay pointed up at the ceiling. "Things would be different."

You lifted your head slightly, your eyes roaming over his face as your fingers absentmindedly tangled into the collar of his shirt.

"You'd stay here with me. We'd graduate together." He rested a hand over his forehead to keep himself distracted from the weight of your stare, knowing it was the only way he could the next part out. "But, that's not how this place works– things are rarely good and when they are, they don't last long. There's... a lot– so much you don't know about the contract that's keeping you here."

Your lips parted, but no words came out, your shoulders suddenly stiff again as you watched him.

"I haven’t been protecting you because Yaga told me to or because Gojo told me to or even because it was my assignment to... I’ve been protecting you because it's what I promised myself I would do."

It was like looking into a storm over the ocean when his eyes met yours again, graveness mixed guilt. "I need you to listen to me, okay? Really listen to me. This doesn't leave this room. This doesn't leave us."

You gave him a slow nod, chills splintering down your spine as he cupped your face with his hand.

"Yaga's original plan to have you executed didn't necessarily end just because I intervened. All I was able to do was postpone it and have the responsibility of who would carry it out be... transferred."

The air had officially been stolen from your lungs.

"My job? My actual mission when it comes to you? Is to monitor you. To watch you. To see if you'll have any lingering effects after coming into contact with Sukuna's finger as a non-sorcerer. You might as well be a science experiment to Yaga and the other higher-ups.” The disgust in his voice was thick, heavy. “I'm supposed to be the one to make sure nothing goes wrong while you're here. I'm contracted to keep close tabs on you to ensure that if Sukuna takes over Yuuji's body to try and coax information out of you, you aren't able to give it to him..."

It was the first time you'd seen his emotions evolve past his usual irritability or stoicism. He'd finally reached the core of it. The root of all of the negativity that he had bottled up inside of him for so long. It wasn't something as simple as anger or resentment– no, it was... grief that he’d been facing.

"The agreement was never for me to keep you safe, it was for me... to kill you if you became too much of a liability." He could barely look at you, his jaw clenched, the room blurred by tears he wasn't prepared to shed.

"That's why– I leave every night... I got Shoko to tip me off to a healer on the outskirts of Tokyo and we've been... going over different techniques... I've been burying myself in research, trying to figure out–" He paused, more violent waves of shame crashing over him as his thumb continued to lightly trace your jawline. "Trying to figure out the least invasive way to go about this because I– don't want it to... hurt. I want you to be able to keep as many memories as you can. I... want it to be... quick and painless. I– just want you to be... safe. Safe and out of here. That's all I care about."

You were crying again, but this time for both of you, for every single dismal decision that had been made and led to this.

You almost felt selfish for your own feelings, finally seeing the full scope of his. He'd saved you– again and again. And even after managing to find a way to do it one last time, he was still on the losing side of it. He would always be bound to the knowledge of what he'd done to you no matter how much time passed. You'd go on to not remember him, but oh god, would he remember you.

He'd been mourning you since the day you arrived and it'd only been getting worse with each day that he woke up with your body pressed against his. Even when he fought to find solutions, they still came with such a steep price that they ended up feeling like losses in disguise.

Neither side of this was fair. You'd be a late-night what-if that haunted him for the rest of his life and he'd be that place between sleep and awake for you. That confusing, gut-wrenching feeling of waking up and missing someone so immensely only to question if they'd ever really existed or not.

Both of your fates were equally cruel in vastly different ways, but realizing the selflessness behind his plan made something inside of you break. Everything he'd done, all of it, had always been for... you.

His hands were firm and secure against the sides of your face as he guided you up to him, looking back at you with all of the strength he had left.

"You've gotta trust me, okay?" Even through your own tears, you could still see his too. Just barely pricking at the corners of his eyes as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear like he'd done so many times before only none of it felt the way it should've. "I'll get you out of here. I won't let anything happen to you. But I need you to promise you won't fight me on this because.... it's the only way... we have to be in this together. Please."

Your breathing was staggered, your mind completely overwhelmed by promises you couldn't possibly make but had to. Feelings you absolutely couldn't lose but had to.

"What happens to you?" You faltered. "After all of this is said and done– where will it leave you?"

You couldn't help but think that the somber smile that cut across his face was one of the prettiest and most devastating things you'd ever get to see in your life.

"Doesn't really matter..." he whispered, featherlight touches still trailing across your skin. "I get to know that you're okay and that's enough."

His grip tightened around you, delicately pulling you closer to him until his mouth was grazing yours. "Promise me."

You wouldn't– you wouldn't do this for anyone else in the entire fucking world, and yet, you'd do it... for him. Your voice was shattered, barely audible as you finally agreed.

"Promise."

He rested his forehead against yours, taking a moment to soak you in. To share the same space as you. To hold you and know that he didn't have to let go just yet.

"You know, I used to watch you too." he said, lips softly pressing into yours as more tears spilled down your cheeks. "Across from the courtyard– you sat in the very back corner with a book in your hand. I always liked that about you."

You shook your head in disbelief with a half-hearted smile as he kissed you, again and again, more easy little confessions from him slipping out between breaths. Quietly reminiscing while he played with your hair, easing the room back into its usual calm state before he reached for the comforter and wrapped it around the two of you, letting your head nuzzle into the crook of his neck.

He watched you intently as you slowly began to drift off, your words tapering down to incoherent little hums while your body tangled further into his. Exhaustion finally stealing you away. He laid as still as he could, memorizing the ceiling pattern while the sound of your breathing mixed with the snow tapping against the window. The warmth of your skin perfectly contrasting the frigid temperatures outside.

Maybe Gojo had been right after all– because from where he was laying, he really couldn’t imagine any curse or nightmare or hell that was scarier than what he was feeling right now.

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

The next day was a blur.

Ijichi returned back to class– but you didn't, refusing to leave the comfort of Megumi's bed. As much as you both needed to keep up appearances to avoid any more suspicion being tossed his way from the higher-ups, he still didn't fight you when you told him you weren't going. "I just..." you'd hesitated, your body not at all ready to untangle itself from the faux safety of his sheets. "I think I need a day to..."

"I get it." His eyes were just as exhausted and heavy as yours, but he'd still tucked you in anyway, gently wrapping his blanket around your shoulders as his stare lingered over you for a moment. "Don't worry about Ijichi," he said, "I'll tell him you're not coming. Shouldn't be a big deal. Just... try and get some rest."

You'd nodded, a seed of guilt settling into the pit of your stomach for not being able to pull yourself together when you knew he didn't have any other choice. He didn't fault you for it though– instead, he'd kissed the side of your cheek, whispering a soft but impossible, "It's gonna be alright." before smoothing down the collar of his uniform and heading out the door.

All of the progress that you'd made over the last six months– all of the painfully naïve optimism that you'd been clinging onto about finding purpose and normalcy suddenly felt so hollow, cruel almost. If Megumi's plan played out the way it was supposed to, it meant that you had approximately 9 days left until your mind would be permanently altered in ways that you couldn't even begin to let yourself try and comprehend.

You'd decided that you'd return back to class tomorrow– you'd take your meaningless little quizzes on probability and ratios and listen to Ijichi's lectures and do your very best to pretend that it didn't feel like your insides were catching fire with each passing minute. You'd put your best fake smile forward and go through the motions no matter how much of a slow death it felt like, because that's what you promised Megumi you'd do. But until tomorrow came, you weren't leaving his bed for anything.

You drew in a sharp breath, willing time to stop, even if just for a second as you attempted to declutter your thoughts. Maybe it was a coping mechanism or maybe it was because you were all too aware of the fact that soon, they'd no longer be there, but you couldn't stop yourself from sifting through old memories. Digging through the recesses of your mind like it was an old attic, letting nostalgia crash over you so hard you were almost afraid you wouldn't be able to find your way back to the present.

It started off slow, little snippets and fragments of mid-July air and the sound of your childhood best friend's laughter. Easy things like swing sets and waking up to the smell of fresh-baked bread at your grandma's house, but then you really started to remember the details. The duality and nuances of that house...

You rolled over as you rested your head in your hand, a painful static rippling through your mind.

You'd had to start over so many times in life– from the unexpected death of your parents when you were a kid, to moving into your grandma's house the summer before middle school after she'd gained full custody of you... She'd always been so kind and gentle but also feeble with a slew of health issues surrounding her. You'd been terrified when you'd lost her freshmen year, completely unsure of what your fate would be. You'd managed to avoid foster care though, quietly living in her house alone since it was already paid off. Keeping the utilities and yourself afloat with the small bank account she'd left you with.

"Come by my place after school," you'd never forget how relieved you were when he'd offered his house for that project instead of asking about yours.

Your life had been uprooted more times than you could count, everyone you'd ever loved ended up being torn away from you in the most unexpected and unfair ways imaginable... But even with everything that you'd faced, there was still nothing that could've prepared you for what happened at that party.

Your best friend who went with you... the way she held your hand while the two of you browsed through thrift stores and laughed together. She was the only one back then who really knew your situation...

"Fifteen fatalities have been reported so far, but we're still keeping an eye on it." She was your immediate first thought, yet another part of yourself that you'd lost only this time, it had been your fault. "Usually when something like this happens, the numbers climb more often than they fall."

Your fingers tangled into Megumi's blanket, the smell of him swirling around you as tears streamed down your face. While he may have carried the weight of it differently than you did, he wasn't the only one who had been forced to deal with loss. It'd been a haunting and viciously persistent theme in your life too, one that you were painfully tired of having to accept.

Your head was throbbing, your eyes closing to try and block out the rest of it when a knock at the door forced you back into the room.

"It's me!" Yuuji called out, his voice just as familiar and comforting as it always had been. "Promise I'll be in and out, I just wanted to drop off some curry for you."

You swallowed hard before rubbing a hand over your face to steady yourself. You didn't need a mirror to tell you that you looked like hell, but you still stole a quick glance at yourself anyway as you made your way to the door, cringing at the distraught reflection that stared back at you.

"Sorry to drag you out of bed when you're sick but Fushiguro said that..." The way his face fell as his eyes trailed over you made your stomach drop. "What happened...?"

You shook your head, offering him the most sincere smile you could manage. "Just... a really bad migraine." You shrugged, taking the bag of food from him. "I've been trying to sleep it off, I'll be alright."

You knew he didn't believe you.

“A migraine?”

"Yeah, they come out of nowhere sometimes." You nodded, a tidal wave of guilt washing over you for so blatantly lying to him. “I should be okay by tomorrow. It's really not a big deal."

"Right..." He hesitated, doing his best to map out his words. “Well, you know that if you’re not okay tomorrow… or the day after that… you can talk to me, right?”

The only thing you could do was nod again, the lump in your throat threatening to break as you fought the overwhelming urge to grab his wrist and ask him to sit with you. To tell him how much you were going to miss him. To tell him how much he and Nobara meant to you. To tell him that even if you didn't remember them, they'd always be a part of your heart... But you couldn't, you couldn't say hardly anything between the weight of his concern and Megumi's secret.  

He waited another few seconds, his apprehension to leave you alone palpable. But when you didn't say anything else, he finally took a step back. “Just... get to feeling better, okay?"

You nodded again, your voice catching as you said, “I will."

He shot you a faint smile and you did your best to return it before he disappeared back down the hall towards the sound of Nobara's voice. "She okay?" You heard her ask as you closed the door.

Everything in your life had always been fleeting and temporary but knowing that they were too was a level of a pain that you weren't ready to face. Your hands shook as you set the bag of curry down on the nightstand and fell back into Megumi's bed, curling into yourself as a sob racked through your body without warning.

You'd experienced more grief than you could ever put into words, and still, nothing had ever hurt quite like this.

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

Megumi's footsteps were light when he returned, his movements cautious as he approached you, glancing over at the untouched food by his bed.

He ran a gentle hand along your back, trying his best to keep you comfortable despite the selfish part of him that wanted to wake you up and bury his head into your chest after a long day.

You shifted, your hand instinctively reaching out for his as your eyes started to open, your surroundings still a blur. It was later than you'd anticipated it being, the moon just barely lighting up his side of the room. 

"You should eat," he said quietly, his thumb rubbing patterns into the inside of your palm.

"I know." You winced, your stomach burning at the thought. "I just... can't right now."

A blend of understanding and worry flickered through his stare as he pressed a light kiss onto the top of your hand. It wasn't like he'd necessarily been taking the best care of himself either the last few weeks.

He kicked off his shoes, stripping down into a t-shirt and boxers before laying down with you, the warmth of your body settling over him in a way he didn't realize he needed until he had it again.

A small smile crept across your face as he nestled into you, his tired arms wrapping around your waist while your fingers threaded through his hair, your nails just barely grazing his scalp. His legs were cold against yours, the sobering smell of winter air and pine filling the space between you.

You stared up at the ceiling, focusing on the sound of his breathing as it gradually began to sync with yours. It was rare that he clung to you like this, but it never failed to make you feel safe, like the rest of the world couldn't touch you as long as he was near you. 

The thought was soft when it first entered your mind, deceptively dreamy and trancelike with the way it had flowed in so easily. It was warmth, comfort, and... panic.

Your pulse quickened as the sentence echoed through your mind again, louder this time. Three words that you couldn’t possibly let yourself hold onto. Three words that represented everything you were losing. The feeling shifted from something gentle and manageable to sharp and serrated as it started to press against your ribs, demanding space you couldn’t afford to give it. Your fingers stilled in his hair, another rush of static and tears suddenly clouding your vision.

“Hey.”

His voice was low and steady as it cut through the haze, his hand brushing against your side. He propped himself up, tentatively hovering above you while his eyes searched yours. He could feel your heart racing, the way it was practically trying to beat through your chest.

"Breathe for me, okay?" He reached for your hand, but you could barely register it, a haze of anxiety replacing reality as your surroundings began to blur together.

You grabbed the side of your head, desperately closing your eyes to try and escape it, but the static in your mind only continued to spread. The room faded in and out, the edges of his face blurring together as the panic attack swept over you with vengeance. All of the things you wanted to say but couldn't. All of the feelings that you'd tried to bury but couldn't– they were all right there, right at the forefront of the storm.

Your fingers tangled into the fabric of Megumi's shirt, his face just inches apart from yours. He was still talking, still trying to keep you steady, but it wasn't working. There was a deafening ringing in your ears. A sea of scattered thoughts and displaced emotions crashing down around you. And then–

Nothing.

The static had somehow lifted, the suffocating wave of fear dying down. Your panic gradually replaced by what felt like an impossible stillness as he continued to hold you.

"Hey," the franticness in his voice was something you'd never heard before. "Look at me. Please, just–"

Your eyes fluttered open slowly, your vision clearing as you let the hand that you had pressed to your forehead fall back down to your side. 

The relief he felt was fleeting, quickly replaced by something else entirely as you froze again, your gaze locking onto something over his shoulder. 

You thought they were shadows at first– the type of looming figures that you'd see out of the corner of your eye when you'd been up for too long. The ones that would disappear with a simple blink, but the two sets of glowing eyes staring back at you were only becoming more and more visible the longer you looked at them.

Your head tilted slightly, taking in the mix of black and white fur, the matching red markings that decorated their foreheads before the smaller one took a step towards you, its movements gentle but seemingly protective as it laid beside you at the edge of the bed.

Megumi shifted, his shoulders visibly stiffening as he watched your reaction– the way your eyes carefully drifted over the Shikigami next to you. He drew in a sharp breath, keeping his tone as even as he could despite his own fears rising, realizing what this meant.

“You can see them... can’t you?”

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

The sun had just started to creep in through the blinds, but Megumi hadn't slept at all. He laid with his eyes closed and his mind racing for the better part of the night, tracing delicate patterns along your skin any time you'd start to stir.

"It's more common than you'd think," Gojo said as they walked across the training field, the August sun beating down on both of them. "Negativity takes on all kinds of different forms, it's not always as black and white as we make it out to be."

Megumi had shoved his hands in his pockets, eyes pointed down at the track as they made their way past two first-years struggling to land a hit on each other. "But if curses only become visible when someone's on the brink of death, then why –"

"That's not the only time it happens." Gojo interjected, "There are exceptions, just like anything else. All it takes is for enough grief and despair to hit someone at just the right frequency and..." He snapped his fingers, pulling Megumi's attention towards him again. "A non-sorcerer would be able to start seeing things they shouldn't– curses, residuals, it would all become visible to them."

Megumi's pace slowed, his brows furrowing the longer he thought about it. "And you think that's what happened to him?" He finally asked, "You think he just... spiraled so hard that he stumbled into this world by accident?"

"More or less." Gojo rolled his shoulders with a sigh. "Look, Junpei was a perfect example of what can happen when all the wrong things line up exactly at the right time. All that bullying, that isolation, losing his mom– his entire life was one long string of pain and anger. That much negativity? It doesn’t usually just sit quietly. It festers. And in his case, it built up to the point where it broke through the usual barriers."

Megumi paused, trying but failing to block out how hard Yuuji had taken his death over the last month. "And cases like him– exceptions like Junpei are... common?"

Gojo's smirk faltered, his hand resting easily on Megumi's shoulder as he bent slightly to meet his gaze. "All I'm saying is that they're not unheard of. Even the strongest people have their limits."

The memory had replayed itself so many times he could barely distinguish the present from nostalgia by the time you woke up next to him. He'd known that he was on borrowed time from the moment you'd arrived, but now... even that was gone.

His grip on you was light but firm as you started to stretch your legs, your eyes barely having the chance to open before your own thoughts began to spiral. No matter how much he tried to keep you calm, the demon dogs staring back at you were a solid reminder of where the two of you stood.

"We have to go... tonight, don't we?"

The silence that followed made your chest tighten, your hand shaking as your fingertips dug into the side of his arm. You drew in a breath before nodding in defeat, sparing him from having to be the one to say it.

You knew the second it had happened that this was what was coming, but there was still something so unexplainably damning about how it felt settling over the two of you. This was the last morning you’d wake up beside him. The last time you’d get to see him like this– soft and unguarded in ways no one else would ever know.

Your lips parted with those three words still desperately clinging to the tip of your tongue, but you managed to swallow them down, refusing to make things worse than they already were. It was the second time in only a few short minutes that you'd been the one to spare him.

His hand caught yours, your quiet acceptance hitting you both in steady but unrelenting waves as you laid together, your feelings embedded into every touch and every movement you made. It was tangible, absolutely everywhere in the space between you, and maybe… that was enough.

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

The hours went by like minutes, a heavy sense of finality and dread clinging onto even the most mundane things– from the way it felt to help Megumi with the buttons on his uniform while the two of you got ready together to the car ride where you'd had to take him, Yuuji, and Nobara back to the same church that they'd failed their previous mission at. It was all painfully familiar and foreign at once.

You were digging mental graves for friends that were still very much alive. Glancing over at Yuuji with a small smile as he leaned up to the front of the car to make sure you were actually feeling better. Knowing that this was your last day with him and having to push down the grief of not being able to give him or Nobara a proper goodbye. Kissing Megumi– really kissing him before you left and trying not to break down at the way his eyes lingered on you as you drove off. Every interaction you had was somehow more futile than the last and yet, you had no choice but to endure it.

By the time you reached Ijichi, you were more than ready to take a seat and tune out the rest of the world with one of his infamously dry lectures, but even his monotone voice and horrible puns were finding ways to tug at your heartstrings. Your mind wandered back to your first week with him– how welcome he'd made you feel without even meaning to. His classroom had always felt like more of a reprieve than a punishment, a quiet comfort amongst the chaos.

You shook your head, fighting past the tears that were threatening to spill over as you busied yourself with one of the ratio equations he had on the whiteboard when you felt your phone buzz in your pocket. You swallowed hard, watching his name flash across the screen before getting up and promptly making your way out into the hall.

He'd never called on you while on a mission.

"Hey," you exhaled, "is everything–"

"We found a special grade curse." He said breathlessly, "Nobara– she's alright, but I need you to come get her and take her back to Shoko."

The phone nearly slipped from your hand, the loud, piercing background noise coupled with Yuuji's panicked, 'Fushiguro!' made your heart feel like it was going to stop altogether.

You looked back at Ijichi from over your shoulder as Megumi continued talking, giving you instructions on what to do when you got there, but your focus was suddenly everywhere else.

"Gojo..." You hesitated, "Do you want me to bring him? Just in case–"

"No," his voice was sharp, leaving little room for protest. "No, Itadori and I can handle it, I just need you to come get her, okay?"

You hated the knot that had formed in your stomach, the nervousness that danced through your veins as you reluctantly agreed, telling him you'd be there as soon as you could.

When working as an assistant, sorcerers are always to take top priority regardless of the situation, it was one of the first lessons he'd gone over with you, though neither one of you had any way of knowing at the time that you'd one day be using it against him...

You zipped up your coat, shaking away the thought as you headed down the faculty stairs and dug your set of keys out of your pocket. You didn't have time for remorse– not now, and not when the lies you’d told would be forgotten by the end of the night anyway.

The cold air nipped at your face, snow still blowing haphazardly across the parking lot as you climbed into the driver's seat, overwhelmed and completely unaware of the set of eyes that had been following you since you'd left Ijichi's classroom.

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

The drive there was a blur, your mind flooding with nothing but worse-case scenarios and scattered images of Nobara laughing and holding your hand as the two of you walked down the hallway together.

Knowing that she was hurt... knowing that she needed a healer while also not knowing the extent of her injuries amidst the stress of everything else you were already facing had your foot heavy on the gas pedal, your car slightly shaking from the gravel road you were on.

The city lights had vanished a few miles back, the grey overcast not helping your case as you struggled to make out buildings in the late January haze of snow and poorly marked country roads. You weren't sure if it was relief or more dread that swirled through your stomach when your GPS started to chime, but it was too late to let yourself indulge in either.

Your throat tightened when you finally spotted it– an old worn-down cathedral in the middle of a seemingly empty field, surrounded by fresh debris and rubble that only made your anxiety swell. It was the first time you'd ever been to an actual pick-up spot. The first time you'd been exposed to the things that Megumi had tried so hard to keep you sheltered from.

You peered through the icy windshield, searching but failing to find any sign of her. "She'll be out front waiting for you when you get here so just stay in the car." He'd said, "She'll come to you, okay?" Even after you'd agreed though, he still repeated it back with an unnerving amount of conviction laced into his words. "Promise me– you won't get out of the car."

Your hands trembled as you pulled out your phone and began dialing his number, squeezing your eyes shut to try and block out just how wrong all of this felt. Each unanswered ring seemed to drag by slower than the last, your pulse thrumming through your ears by the time his voicemail echoed through the receiver.

You'd done everything that he'd asked and so much more. You'd kept his secrets. You'd protected him. You'd lied for him. You'd cared for him in more ways than you could ever bring yourself to say aloud. But this was one promise you were quickly realizing you wouldn't be able to keep as you watched a familiar thick, black smog seep out through the cracks in the boarded-up windows of the church. Another powerful thud reverberating with such intensity that it shook the ground beneath you.

"I'm sorry." You whispered, though you weren't sure if you were saying it to him or yourself as you reached for the door handle.

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

Your breathing came to a halt the moment that your feet hit the ground. The air was impossibly dense, contaminated with a thick layer of smoke that seemed to tangle around your limbs the closer you got to the entrance.

You could practically hear Megumi's voice screaming at you to turn around, but you forced yourself to push past it as you approached the edge of the broken stone staircase, redirecting your focus on where and where not to step.

The entryway was completely shattered, the heavy wooden doors splintered and hanging off of their hinges. You held your breath as you squeezed your way through a small opening, doing everything you could to keep yourself steady despite the trail of fog that seemed to follow you.

Your pace was meticulous, each movement calculated while you navigated your way through the wreckage. It wasn't until you saw the faint waves of light flashing through the darkness that you froze. Your eyes snapped towards the back of the church, watching in quiet horror as the unmistakable hum of cursed energy exploded across the room in bursts.

You were stuck somewhere between fight or flight– your legs carrying you with agility you didn't even know you had as you broke into a sprint. You ducked, taking cover behind one of the destroyed pillars, just narrowly dodging a support beam that came crashing down when a hand suddenly reached out for you.

"'The hell were you thinking–" she coughed, her voice still maintaining its usual firmness despite how feeble it was. "You know you shouldn't be here."

"Nobara," you breathed, your hand cupping her face to wipe away the red rolling down her cheek. Her body was lax, slumped against the remains of a wooden pew with blood dripping from her hairline down to her chin.

Your insides felt like they were on fire, adrenaline flooding your system quicker than you could keep up with as you scanned the area for the most manageable way out before looking back at her. "I'm not leaving you here." You promised, your body acting faster than your brain as you reached for her arm and slung it over your shoulder.

"Are you insane? You can't just–"

"You'd do it for me, wouldn't you?" The question was sharp enough to slice through the tension, time seeming to stop even if only for a second when her eyes met yours.

"Of course I would." She conceded, slowly lifting herself up as she leaned on you for support. "Megumi's gonna... kill you though."

It was one of the first times you'd really smiled in the last three days. "I think I'll be alright."

The calm was momentary though, another amethyst-colored beam tearing through the air. "Hold onto me." You said, tightening your grip around her waist.

Shattered stone cascaded around the two of you, your breath catching in your throat as the cursed energy spiked again, sharper and heavier than before. It almost felt alive with the way it twisted around your legs– that same fear, that same dread from the night Megumi had saved you creeping over you once more. The burning sensation seeped into your pores the higher up it climbed, rooting itself into your chest.

Your movements were strained, each step forward nearly knocking the wind out of you as you shielded Nobara from more falling debris, both of you crouching behind an abandoned altar.

The entrance was just within your reach if you could manage to keep yourself upright and steady, the light from the outside barely grazing the edge of the corridor. Right as you shifted your weight to stand though– a low, guttural growl reverberated across the floor sending another wave of what felt like rogue electricity beneath your skin.

"Fuck," you hissed, your vision becoming blurry as you fought to keep your focus.

"Leave me here," Nobara insisted, trying but failing to shake you off of her. "Look, Yuuji's right over there, he can grab me when he–"

But her demands came to an abrupt end as the two of you became frozen in place, the curse emerging from the shadows to reveal a series of vine-like limbs and skin that resembled ancient bark. The size of it alone was enough to make your heart forget how to beat, but the second its eyes landed on you, the earth seemed to still entirely.

"What the–" Megumi's voice broke through the chaos, the weight of his stare crippling when he spotted you from across the room, his frustration and concern palpable even from where he was standing.

"Go!" He shouted, another Shikigami already forming in front of him.

The figure tilted its head as if it were studying you, the pressure of its gaze pinning you to the floor. It wasn’t just fear this time– it was something deeper, almost primal that wrapped around your spine and pulled tight as the taunting hum of its cursed energy crackled into the space between you. Its floral patterns glowing faintly in the dim light with its vines curling and writhing carefully towards you.

“Why do you fight so hard to protect something so fleeting?”

“Kugisaki!” Megumi stiffened, his hands stretched out in front of him like weapon as Nuu lunged toward the curse, but he wasn't even able make it halfway to you before a branch-like limb sprawled out and slammed the demon dog into the ground with a force that shook the foundation of the already crumbling building.

Your head felt like it was going to explode, your thoughts and emotions bleeding into each other all at once as its question repeated on an unwanted loop.

Fleeting.

“Listen to me!” Nobara’s voice suddenly felt distant, blurred by an odd sense of clarity that had started to wash over you. “Leave me here. You have to go!”

It was right– your life had been made up of nothing more than fleeting contentment and memories that weren't made to last. The things that you were trying so hard to fight for would be gone by tomorrow, just like everything else, but they were here now and so were you. If this had to be your last day with them– if losing Megumi, Yuuji, and Nobara was truly inevitable no matter what choice you made, then you'd do everything you could to protect them.

“No,” you said, the word falling from your lips before you even realized it. “I told you I’m not leaving you.”

The curse moved again, swift but intentional, closing the distance between you while its vines began to thrash, leaving more broken concrete beneath its force. Megumi yelled your name, his expression dropping as he watched the somber smile that cut across your face when your eyes met his.

"Don't!" He warned, his hands cast backout in front of him, but your mind was already made up.

You secured your grip on Nobara, forcing her to lean more heavily on you while you dragged her a few steps closer to the fragmented remains of the entrance. You were so close– just a few more feet and you could hand her off to Yuuji, who was locked in a struggle of his own ahead of you.

But close wasn’t enough.

The energy in the room surged again, its presence suddenly suffocating and absolutely everywhere as thick, sharp tendrils snared around your legs. Your body felt like it had caught fire, the white-hot heat of its touch making your vision flicker in and out as it started to pull you backward, Nobara's weight shifting dangerously against you.

Your jaw clenched, your ears ringing as you fought to garner up every ounce of strength you had left to push forward. You were desperate, every step seeming to tear something essential out of you, but still, you moved.

Another blinding wave of pain hit you– the curse’s vines snapping again, just barely missing your head as they shattered another fixture above you. It was a storm of debris and splintered wood, making it hard to tell where its limbs began and the church's destruction ended.

“Yuuji!” you screamed, your voice raw as your stare caught his. “Take her!"

He was stunned, too worn-down and short on time to argue with you.

Your adrenaline was exhausted, every part of your body ready and willing to collapse, but with one final push, you managed to shove Nobara toward the faint light spilling out through the ruined entryway.

She staggered, her legs barely holding her as Yuuji lunged forward, catching her in his arms right before she fell. It was the first time you had allowed yourself to really breathe since you'd found her, a warm sense of relief cutting through the pain.

But it didn't take long for it to vanish, the crushing reality of the curse now looming over you suddenly outweighing any amount of comfort you'd once had.

Its grip coiled tighter around your legs, your body going limp as it dragged you back once more. There was static in your veins, an overwhelming pressure pushing down on your ribs, the taste of copper filling your mouth.

This was it.

The background commotion slowly tapered down, your senses gradually disconnecting from your body as the chapel started to drift further and further away. A surreal sense of acceptance wrapped around you like a warm hug. No more fighting, no more flailing– it was just you and the comfortable abyss that you were sinking into. Just you and the memories that you were able to keep until the very end. If you had to die in one way or another tonight, at least you were able to do it knowing that you had spared him one last time.

There was a distorted fluttering feeling in your chest. A dizziness in your brain. A hazy montage of impossibly blue eyes and all the things you should've said.

And then,

it all,

faded,

to black...

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

Megumi's head was throbbing when his eyes finally opened again, his stomach still in knots as he blinked back tears, trying to piece together where he’d ended up. He was sprawled out on a familiar grey leather couch with a knit blanket carefully tucked over him. The rigid winter air only amplifying his headache as it knocked against the window of his office.

“'Bout time you woke up."

His mind was overrun with the fractured pieces of what had happened, sensations and memories coming back in painful waves: The leveled church. The sound of glass shattering as he channeled his domain expansion. The feeling of your body pressed against his before everything vanished…

“Where’s..." The panic he felt was all-consuming, time coming to a grinding halt when he realized that he was the only one recovering. “Where is she...?"

Gojo's smirk was nowhere to be found, his stare softening a bit as he took a step towards him. "I talked to Shoko,"

"– And?" Megumi demanded.

"She told me about your sudden interest in Kokoro Kiri," his tone was light despite how pointed his words were, "Usually used for memory manipulation and soul severing, right? Causes the victim to forget specific people and events?"

"You know that's not what I meant–" Megumi snapped, "Is she...?" His face was flushed, his nerves completely shot as he struggled to swallow down the rest of his question. "Look, I don't care what happens to me after this, I'll take whatever punishment the higher-ups decide on, but I need to know what happened to her. Please, just..."

Gojo's demeanor was eerily calm, his hand resting easily on Megumi's shoulder as he bent down to become eye-level with him.

"If I had to guess," he paused, "She's probably still asleep."

Megumi's lips parted but the only thing that came out was a jagged exhale, his breathing coming out in short, choppy intervals. "So she's..." His head was spinning, relief and fear both clinging onto him at once. "She's okay, then? I mean, she's not...?"

"She's got some pretty deep cuts on her legs– probably gonna end up with a scar or two once she's fully healed, but other than that," A faint smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he watched the life slowly return back to Megumi's eyes. "She's alright."

The tone of the room shifted into something more manageable despite the multitude of other unanswered questions that still sat between them. Megumi's hands shook slightly as he ran them over his face, images of the ruins he'd left behind coming back in flashes.

"You took down a special grade curse by yourself before I got there," Gojo said, almost sounding proud as he took a seat next to him. "I still had to clean up the aftermath of course, but..."

His stare lingered on him for a moment, the amusement in his tone fading, "She must be pretty important to you, huh? Making you tap into your full potential like that?"

Megumi hesitated, his gaze drifting to the floor as he nodded, remembering a brief conversation they'd had last year during a training session. "Yeah," he admitted quietly, "she is."

"You could've asked me for help, you know." Gojo shifted in his seat, letting out his own sigh while he rested his chin in his hands. "You should've asked me for help. You've gotta quit thinking that you can handle everything by yourself."

Megumi's jaw tightened, his words hanging heavily between them.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Gojo pressed, tilting his head at him as their eyes met again. "About the details of your contract? About the healer you've been seeing? Do you have any idea how bad that could've ended for you? For both of you, if you would've gone through with it?"

"I thought you already knew," Megumi bit back, exasperated by the fact that he was even asking in the first place. "You were there the night that I brought her back– you met me in Yaga's office after the negotiation was finalized."

Gojo looked back at him incredulously, "You honestly thought that I'd let you take on that kind of burden? From the higher-ups no less?"

His head was pounding, his thoughts clouded by an unnerving mix of exhaustion and guilt. "Yaga's never done anything in regard to me without running it by you first, even some of my missions get sent to you for approval, so why the hell would this have been any different?"

"Because you're an adult now." Gojo said simply, the gravity of his sentiment strong enough to break down Megumi's defense. "I didn't ask Yaga anything about your contract because I wanted it to be something that you handled on your own. I just figured you'd be smart enough to let me know if something went wrong."

The walls of his office felt like they were closing in on him as all of the resentment and pain that he'd been grappling with for the last five months suddenly came circling back to the true source of their existence– him. It was never you or Gojo or anyone else that had complicated his life this much, it was his own stubbornness. His refusal to accept help and admit defeat.

"I..." He faltered, his brows furrowing as he fought to keep his emotions at bay. "I'm sorry. You're right, I should've told you. I should've known when it was too much to take on alone..."

Gojo's expression softened slightly, his shoulder gently nudging his.

"Hey," He soothed, knowing better than anyone that getting an apology from Megumi– a sincere one, at that, meant something. "Growing pains are a part of life– this isn't your first and it won't be your last, but it's what makes us human. Sometimes lessons have to be hard to be remembered." 

Megumi was quiet as he took in his words, letting the familiar sense of solace have its moment.   

"Don't beat yourself up over it too much though, alright?" Gojo mused as he leaned back, lazily stretching his hands behind his head. "Your face is rough enough as is and I hear there's a cute girl waiting for you down in Shoko's office."

A small smile crept across Megumi's face as he nodded before getting to his feet.

"Oh and– and Megumi? One last thing."

He paused, his hand resting on the door handle as he looked back at him from over his shoulder. "Yeah?"

"We can go over the details later when you're not so," he gestured vaguely towards his tattered appearance, "Half-dead," he said flippantly, "But she's staying just so you know. No strings attached other than her maintaining her cover story while she's here, but aside from that, the contract is null and void– for both of you."

He froze, his pupils doubling in size as he stared back at him in disbelief. "How did you...?"

"10 million yen and a few offhanded threats tend to go a long way in the sorcerer world." He shrugged. "That, and the fact that we'll have her as an assistant once she graduates. Continuing to room with her is optional, but–" His smirk returned with playful ease. "I figured you wouldn't be in a hurry to kick her out just yet."

There was a part of him that was afraid if he blinked for too long, he'd wake up slumped against a rutted pillar with nothing but debris and ash surrounding him again. His throat tightened, trying his best to ground himself as he hesitated at the doorway.

"Thank you, Gojo." He finally managed. "For everything."

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

The next few days were a blur of pain medication, sleep, and holding Megumi's hand as he dozed off in the armchair next to you. He would end up in what looked like the most uncomfortable pretzel-like positions, but he still refused to leave your side no matter how many times you tried to tell him that it was okay if he wanted to go back to the dorm instead.

Aside from the occasional injured first-year that would wander in every so often, the medical ward was strangely peaceful. Your mornings were spent listening to Shoko explain various healing techniques while redressing the bandages on your legs. Checking to make sure that your body was responding to treatment the way it was supposed to while Megumi watched intently, taking mental notes for himself just in case he'd need them later.

Your afternoons were filled with visitors after word got out about how you'd sacrificed yourself to save Nobara against –what you'd later learned from Gojo– was a curse named Hanami. She was still recovering too, but her healing process had been a lot more sped-up than yours with her body being more acclimated to the effects of cursed energy. Yuuji brought you fresh flowers every day– big, well-thought arrangements with all of your favorite colors. "You'll tell her that these are from me, right?" He'd tease Megumi. "Don't want you takin' credit for my hard work."

While you knew that Gojo had managed to revoke the terms of your contract, the weight of it still hadn't fully left you. There were nights that you'd wake up in cold sweats, tears streaming down your face as you'd find yourself frantically reaching out for Megumi's hand. "I'm here," he'd whisper, "I'm right here, I'm not going anywhere."

It wasn't until you'd been released and the two of you were finally back in your room that things actually started to feel somewhat solidified. There wasn't the same looming sense of dread that used to follow you. There wasn't the constant weight of abandonment clawing at your chest.

There was just him and the way his hands felt grazing your jawline as he kissed you. The way that he tried so hard to be so delicate with you despite the pent-up fire behind his stare every time he touched you.

"Megumi," you breathed, pulling him closer as the morning sun began to seep in from the window. "I'm not made of glass." You reminded him, your fingers tangling into his hair.

HIs hands were still lingering on your waist, a faint smile pulling at the corner of his mouth as he looked back at you through heavy lashes. "You'll tell me if it's too much?"

There was something about the care in his eyes, the way he always put you first, even when his own restraint was clearly hanging on by a thread. You cupped his face, your thumb brushing against his cheek as you nodded. "Promise."

His grip on you tightened, the palm of his hand warm against the side of your neck before his tongue parted your lips again.

You could feel the shift of him starting to let go, the way his hand roamed from your neck to your lower back with his movements becoming more and more fervent. Breathy little noises filling the space between you while he helped you out of your shorts and tossed them to the side of his bed.

His forehead pressed against yours, his eyes tentatively trailing over you as he lined himself up with your entrance. It was the very last wall he had left, one that he never thought he'd be able to fully tear down until now.

He couldn't stop the low moan that escaped him as he slid into you, watching how your pupils dilated as you looked back at him with trust that he still wasn't sure he deserved. The words were right there, right where they'd always been, steady and terrifyingly honest.

He drew in a breath, letting himself sink into you, noting the way your body held him tighter the further he went. It had always been you. His hand shook slightly, using his thumb to tilt your head up towards his while his hips met yours with the same deep, consuming pace. It would always be you.

His lips parted, his mind slipping as he finally let go completely and buried everything he had in you,

"I love you."

It was soft but impossibly sure as it brushed across your skin, leaving a trail of warmth you didn't even know existed in its wake. There was suddenly no such thing as holding back– not the tears that were pricking at the corners of your eyes or the feelings that you'd tried so hard to control for the last six months. He was everywhere, embedded into every single part of you.

It settled over your chest, opening up like a floodgate once it began– "I love you." you breathed, your nails digging into his neck."I love you." you whimpered again as your back arched beneath him. "I love you." he panted, his hands firm against your hips as your walls began to unravel around him. "I love you." you cried, letting yourself fall apart for him entirely.

"I love you, I love you, I love you..."

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

[glossdebut]

so hot (you’re hurting my feelings) | KSJ

✧ PAIRING: seokjin x fem!reader

✧ SUMMARY: You haven’t heard from your ex, Seokjin, in a year. When you're invited to his best friend Yoongi's engagement party, you know you should say no, that you should just leave it alone. But you can't pass up the chance to show Seokjin what he lost.

✧ TAGS: exes to lovers, light angst, seokjin’s problem is that he is chronically unserious (who is surprised?), smut, seokjin has a big dick (again who is surprised?)

✧ WARNINGS: hurt feelings, the angst is pretty light but it's still there, vaginal sex, riding!!!

✧ AUTHOR’S NOTE: it is here!!! sorry it took so long, i've never written seokjin before!!! and then it turned into a monster like holy fuck. like study break, this wasn't beta'd, so i apologize in advance for mistakes/repeated phrases. seriously, i didn't even re-read it after i finished it because i just can't look at it anymore LMAO. STREAM HAPPY!!!!!!!!!!

✧ WORDCOUNT: 4.4k words

[10:42] Seokjin: i heard jimin invited you to the party for yoongi and eunji on saturday

[10:42] Seokjin: are you going?

You should’ve said no. That is one-hundred percent clear to you now.

Better yet, you really should’ve blocked Seokjin’s number a long time ago, laughed in Park Jimin’s stupid face when he invited you in the first place.

You’re super happy for Yoongi, you are. You were around when he and Eunji first started seeing each other, watched Yoongi agonize over the mushy, embarrassing feelings that come with falling in love. The fact that they’re engaged now? Insane. But knowing Yoongi, he surely would’ve been just as satisfied with a cursory ‘congratulations’ text. 

Any sentence that starts with ‘Yoongi’ and ends in ‘party’ usually has a big, fat ‘doesn’t want to go to’ smushed in the middle. Bold and underlined. You knew from the get-go that any and all planning of this party was Jimin’s doing, and Jimin’s doing alone. That Yoongi would’ve been totally unbothered if you couldn’t make it.

Besides, Yoongi may be your friend, but Seokjin is your ex. And wherever there is Min Yoongi, there is also Kim Seokjin. Fuck, he’s probably going to be the best man. The logical part of you knew that it would be better for all parties involved to politely decline, to make up an excuse not to go.

Instead, what you said was—

[10:58] You: yeah i’ll be there

Maybe you’re trying to prove a point. Prove that you’re better off now, although whether you’re trying to prove it to Seokjin or yourself you still don’t know. It would explain the dress you’re wearing: short, fitting, a soft, baby pink—his favorite. Look at what you gave up, it screams. 

Because you need him to know.

You haven’t seen each other in well over a year. It hurt, then, but now you’re thankful because it means he missed your rock bottom. He missed all of the tears you shed for him, the stolen sweatshirts you refused to stop wearing—the gaping, Seokjin-shaped hole he left in your life.

There was a time where you’d thought Seokjin was The One. It was no secret that you were heading towards marriage. Seokjin is the type of guy you’d always fantasized about being married to. On paper, he was perfect: kind, handsome, funny. Knew his way around a kitchen. Charmed your parents within seconds of meeting them.

But perfect on paper very seldom means perfect in reality. As it turned out, Seokjin had many flaws, the most notable being his inability to have difficult conversations. It was endearing until it wasn’t, until difficult conversations became more and more necessary to have the kind of future you’d dreamed of having with him.

Even the way things ended felt like the punchline to a joke that didn’t quite land. You broke things off, but you were still the more heartbroken one in the end. He handled it so graciously. 

So, yes, part of you desperately needs him to see you, now that you’ve picked yourself back up.

Another part, though—a part that has decided to only make itself known now that you’ve actually stepped foot into Park Jimin’s soiree from hell—is fucking terrified of facing him after all this time. Terrified that he’ll see right through the makeup, the styled hair, the carefully placed mask—to find that you’re just as shattered as you were the day he left.

Standing here now, at a party that could’ve been yours and Seokjin’s in another life, you suddenly feel like you’ve made a horrible mistake.

But you’re here. No turning back now, because Jimin has already seen you, will surely notice if you suddenly go missing.

Thankfully, you excel at compartmentalizing like no other. Revenge era aside, you’re here to celebrate Yoongi and Eunji more than anything else. You fix your dress, fix your smile. Raise a glass to the happy couple and swallow down your nerves with a mouthful of expensive champagne.

You make your rounds. You haven’t seen most of the people here since you and Seokjin broke up, since they were all Seokjin’s friends first. Despite the urge to look over your shoulder every ten seconds, it’s nice to see them. You missed them.

The happy couple are just that: happy. Although Yoongi looks like he wants to strangle Party Planner Jimin™ with the tie he’s been forced to wear. Namjoon got a promotion at work since you last saw him. Hoseok is seeing someone new. Taehyung is seeing several new someones. Jeongguk is pink-cheeked and plastered. Everything is the same and completely different, and you can’t help the fondness that fills you as you greet them one by one.

Foolishly, you almost forget. Almost. You just barely make it to Yoongi’s fancy kitchen, looking to top off your champagne, when suddenly you feel a warm, familiar hand on your elbow.

“Y/N...”

Of course.

You’re frozen to the spot, unable to even turn around to face him. It’s been over a year since you’ve heard his voice and just the sound of it makes your throat feel tight. How embarrassing would it be if you cried in front of him before you even get a word in?

“Y/N, please look at me,” Seokjin says, voice soft.

Fucking get it together, you think.

You swallow thickly, school your features into the most neutral expression you can manage, and turn around.

Oh, life is unfair. Life is so unfair, because you had mentally prepared yourself for Seokjin to look great. Seokjin always looks great. There are no exceptions to that rule. He once used your kitchen scissors to cut his own bangs, and even though it looked like someone had taken a bite out of them, he was still fit for the cover of a magazine. Dazzling.

What you hadn’t prepared for, though, is that he would look even better than when you last saw him. Great you could’ve handled, but better? Did losing you really do him so many favors?

His hair is black again, as opposed to the chocolate brown you’d last seen. Shorter, too, and artfully styled. It’s hard for you to wrap your head around, but somehow he looks bigger, just enough for you to take notice. 

And if things couldn’t get more devastating for you, three whole buttons at the top of his shirt have been left unbuttoned. Two more buttons than he’d normally ever allow, showing off a tantalizing swath of chest.

Kim Seokjin, what happened to your modesty, you whore?

“Hi,” he says, smiling at you kindly. He’s breathless and pink, like he’d done a little jog to get to you. You try not to read into it. Compose yourself.

“Hi,” you reply, polite but so, so carefully detached.

“I guess this was inevitable, huh?”

Not really, you think to yourself. He’s the one who approached you. He could’ve just as easily not—it would’ve been the kinder thing to do. But you bite your tongue.

“Guess so,” you say instead.

“I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately,” Seokjin says.

You’re not quite sure what to do with that. Why would you even cross his mind anymore, if he so obviously didn’t care when you dumped him?

Sensing that you don’t know what to say, Seokjin continues, shifting from foot to foot awkwardly.

“What I mean is, I’m really unhappy with the way we left things.”

That makes you scoff. The first crack in your mask of politeness.

“You didn’t seem it, when it happened,” you reply coolly. “I don’t know what could’ve possibly changed in a year of zero contact.”

He visibly deflates a little, his smile faltering. “Y/N, I—”

“I don’t want to do this, Seokjin,” you interrupt, shaking your head. “There’s no use digging up the past. We ended for a reason.”

“I know that,” he insists. He steps closer to you and you immediately step back in response. “Look, can’t we just talk?”

“You want to talk now?” you ask, your mounting frustration spilling over at his insistence. His proximity, the familiar smell of him overwhelms your brain. “It’s a little too late for that, don’t you think?”

“Don’t be stubborn, Y/N,” Seokjin huffs. The nerve of him, sounding just as frustrated as you. He doesn’t have the right. “I want… I want to explain. Just let me explain.”

You know it’s not the time or the place to do this. Normally, you’d be completely disinterested in the prospect of hashing things out in Yoongi’s kitchen, in a party full of people. But all of the what if’s that have piled up the past year nag at you to listen to what he has to say.

“Fine,” you snap, impatient. “If that’s what I have to do to get you to leave me alone.”

Seokjin sighs, rubs a hand over his face. “When you ended things… I just—I let you,” he says. “I let you because you were right. I didn’t know how to handle conflict between us. I thought… I thought if I just brushed our problems off, if I made you laugh and put them out of your mind, it would be enough to make everything okay.”

He looks down, staring at his shiny shoes. If you were together, you would crack a joke about him staring at his own reflection. Not the time for that, though.

“And clearly, it wasn’t. You were unhappy. And I hated that I was the one to make you that way, because all I ever wanted to do was make you smile,” he continues. “So I let you go. I thought you’d be better off.”

Better off? How could he possibly think you would be better off without him? How could he possibly think that you didn’t want him to fight for you, back then? All you wanted was for him to prove you wrong, to show you that he could own up to his faults, and instead…

“I wasn’t ready to have those hard conversations with you, and I’m sorry for that. But I’m ready now,” Seokjin says as he looks up at you. “I don’t want to laugh things off, or push them aside and hope it gets better. I know I’m a year too late, but I want to be better for you, if you’ll let me.”

Shit.

“Jin, I… Those are pretty words, but how am I supposed to trust that things will actually be different this time?”

“...I guess you won’t know unless you try,” he says. His voice is soft, fragile like spun sugar. “I won’t blame you if you don’t want to take the risk. But… Y/N, I love you. I at least need you to know that. I never stopped.”

Love. 

He never stopped loving you. But… If he never stopped loving you, why did he wait so long to tell you? You want to believe him, but it all feels too good to be true. You’re overwhelmed, caught at a crossroads you had no idea you’d face when you agreed to come tonight.

“...I don’t know,” you say weakly. The tears that have been forming in your eyes finally start to spill, one by one. “I don’t know if that’s good enough. This past year has been… I don’t want to let you back in just to get hurt all over again. I don’t know if I can pick myself back up a second time.”

“You won’t have to,” he says gently. He reaches out to touch your arm, hesitant, and you let him. “I’m serious about this, Y/N. I know I won’t be perfect, but I don’t ever want to lose you again. Not if I can help it.”

You sniffle and Seokjin’s hands reach for you, cradling your face. His thumbs rub at your cheeks gently. 

“Please don’t cry,” he says, his voice almost pained. “You’re gonna mess up your pretty makeup.”

You let your eyes fall shut, allow yourself a steadying breath as Seokjin wipes your tears away.

Maybe it’s the familiarity, the ease with which you let him touch you, even after everything that’s happened. Maybe it’s all of the built-up longing you’ve stored for him over the past year, bubbling over now that he’s in front of you, broad and strong and safe. Maybe it’s that he still loves you. You know you should think this over a little longer, that you shouldn’t fold so easily. That there’s so much more to talk about and work through. But still… 

“Okay,” you say, your heart pounding in your chest. “You get one more chance. On a trial basis.”

Seokjin’s stupid, perfect lips pop open, his mouth forming a little ‘o’ in what you can only assume is shock. Like he was ready for a swift and justified rejection, wasn’t expecting his speech to pay off.

“Are you sure?”

You aren’t. You won’t be, not until he proves himself. Not until he shows you that he’s ready to face the hard parts of a relationship, to handle it like an adult when things get bad. But damn if you don’t want to give him the chance to.

“I’m gonna put you through the fucking wringer,” you say, firm. “I’m going to make you talk about all of the things you skipped out on before. But… I want to let you try.”

Seokjin. laughs breathlessly, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

“I deserve that. We can talk about anything you want,” he concedes. Warm eyes study you for a moment before he lets out a tentative, “can I kiss you?” He sounds so hopeful, you can’t bring yourself to deny him.

You loop your arms around his neck, leaning up to capture his lips in a kiss. It’s crazy, how it takes you right back to the start. Your first date—Seokjin, ever the gentleman, walking you to your door. The tentative press of lips for the very first time, his hands hovering by your waist like he’s afraid to touch you.

But it isn’t the first time. After a moment of nerves, Seokjin eases into it, deepens it. His hands are confident when they finally make contact with your waist, pressing you against the kitchen island behind you. You melt into the easy slide of his lips against yours, surprising yourself when your tongue slides against his, earning a pleased hum from him.

It dawns on you how inappropriate this is, making out with your ex (???) in his best friend’s kitchen—at his best friend’s engagement party—but you can’t bring yourself to care that much. Not when you’ve finally gotten a taste of what you’ve been missing for so long.

When he finally pulls away, Seokjin’s lips are deliciously swollen. You can’t tear your gaze away no matter how hard you try. Your hands smooth over his shirt, feeling his broad shoulders, the silky material stretching over them.

“I know I owe you a much longer conversation, but…” He trails off. You shiver when you feel his breath on your neck. “God, this dress…”

He trails a finger down a thin strap, and just like that, your every nerve ending is alight. It’s embarrassing, how easily you crumble for him from just a little bit of kissing. How your thighs squeeze together at the husky tone of his voice. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, trailing his nose against the side of your neck, breathing you in. “Did you wear this dress for me?”

“Wanted you to know what you lost,” you mumble, a little petulant. Still wanting to punish him, just a little.

“I know what I lost,” Seokjin admits easily. His hand smooths down your side, over the silky material of your dress. “Believe me, I know. I’m an idiot.”

Shit. This is working for him. Groveling looks just as good on him as everything else does.

“You are,” you agree weakly, your eyes fluttering shut. He’s being perfectly respectful, keeping his hands in safe places, and you’re already falling apart.

“Let me take you home with me,” he says. When his plush lips press to your neck, you can’t hide the way your breath hitches. “Let me make up for it.”

“Are you joking? You can’t leave,” you say, breathless. “What about Yoongi?” The excuse sounds weak even to your own ears, and you know Seokjin can see right through you. How close you are to saying fuck it.

“Yoongi wants to be at this party even less than I do,” Seokjin says. “You know that. Please, baby.”

★★★

When you make it to Seokjin’s apartment, it becomes clear that both of your patience is wearing dangerously thin.

In all the time that you’ve known him, you’ve never known Seokjin to be like this—the passionate, ‘need to have you now’ kind of guy—and you really didn’t mind. Instead, he was an exceptionally respectful lover. He took his time, checked in with you to make sure you liked what he was doing. Missionary with eye contact. Seokjin didn’t fuck, he made love.

But when he unzips your dress, lets it pool at your feet, guides you to lay on the bed that you’d once shared—you feel like all he’s itching to do right now is fuck you.

It’s the way he’s looking at you, eyes dark as he takes in the matching set that was hidden under your dress—also pink. You’ve never seen this look on Seokjin before.

“This,” he murmurs, his fingers skimming over your clothed heat, forcing a gasp out of you. “This is new. Never seen it before.”

Suddenly, you understand what must be going through his head. Had you bought this for someone else? Had someone else slowly peeled it off of you, unwrapped you like a gift? 

In reality, you haven’t slept with anyone else since you broke things off, too busy throwing yourself into work to think about it. Still, it’s nice to see the little flicker of jealousy in his expression, the tick in his jaw.

You look up at him, biting back a smug grin. “You like it?”

“Mmm,” he hums in affirmation, fingers finding your clit with an ease that only someone who knows your body like he does could manage. “Very much.”

Seokjin forces a moan out of you as he rubs you in circles, soaking the fabric of your panties with the wetness that had built up during the ride to his apartment.

“I bought it last week,” you gasp out, quelling his worries in an instant. It would be nice, of course, to torture him a little bit longer, but the burning need between your legs is getting too difficult to bear. “Needed something that wouldn’t show through the dress.”

“So you bought it for me, too,” he smirks, tilting his head at you. The bastard. “You know, like the dress.”

“I’m going to kill you,” you grumble, although the way you squeeze your eyes shut and grind against his fingers tells a different story.

“Oh noooo, don’t kill me.” Seokjin grins, withdrawing his fingers to instead hook them into the waistband of your panties, dragging them down your legs. “At least wait until after I make you cum. You’d be punishing yourself otherwise.”

Cocky motherfucker. You sit up on your elbows, a retort on the tip of your tongue, but when you open your eyes to look at him, you stop short.

“Fuck,” he mumbles, eyes wide as he stares down at your pussy. It’s a testament to how wrecked he is at the sight—Seokjin doesn’t curse often. “So beautiful…”

“Jin,” you gasp as he spreads you open with his thumbs, his plump bottom lip caught between his teeth as he discovers how much you’re dripping for him. “Don’t tease.”

“I won’t tease, baby,” he says silkily, pulling you to the edge of the bed by your thighs. “You know I have to work you open, though. No way you’ll be able to take me otherwise.”

You gasp when he sinks to his knees, cry out when he wraps his lips around your clit, laving over you with his tongue. When your hands fly down to his shoulders, holding him there, he hums in approval and you earn a deft finger sliding into you.

“M-more,” you moan, your back arching when that finger crooks up, rubbing expertly at your inner walls. “More, please…”

He pulls back, focusing his efforts on stretching you open with his fingers, two now. “Since you asked so nicely,” he says with a smug smirk.

By the time he adds a third you’re basically incoherent, right on the edge. You feel like you’re going to cum any second, writhing and moaning as your muscles tense in anticipation, but Seokjin withdraws as soon as he catches on.

“Not so fast,” he says, ignoring the way you whine at the loss, pussy clenching helplessly around nothing. Fuck, you feel so empty. “You know how I want you to cum, baby.”

Fucking tease. Fine, if he wants to be like that, maybe you will have an opportunity to torture him a little bit.

Sitting up at the edge of the bed, you look up at Seokjin as your hands find the front of his pants. You give him a squeeze, biting back a smirk when he practically whimpers at the contact.

“Y/N—”

“I wanna ride you, Jinnie,” you purr, looking up at him through your lashes as you unzip his pants and teasingly push them down his legs.

“Yeah, okay,” he wheezes, nodding jerkily. His cheeks and the tips of his ears are pink. Cute, you think. You haven’t seen him like this since the first handful times you had sex, months after you started dating. Despite having had sex before, it took him a while to stop being a blushing mess. It fills you with satisfaction that not having you for so long has brought this side out in him again.

Once the rest of his clothes are shed and you’ve very slowly rolled a condom onto him—much to Seokjin’s embarrassment—you guide him to sit up against his headboard, climbing onto his lap to straddle him.

“Are you sure you’re ready?” he asks. His eyes are fixed on yours, searching.

“With the amount of times I’ve taken your stupid big cock, you really think I don’t know when I’m ready?” you tease, guiding his tip to slide between your folds.

All of the embarrassment is suddenly gone as Seokjin grips your ass firmly. “Yeah? Then take it,” he practically growls, making you shiver.

You slooooowly ease yourself down just the slightest bit, but the stretch of Seokjin’s cock is overwhelming after such a long time without it. All of the air is stolen from your lungs as you work him in, inch by agonizing inch.

“That’s it,” Seokjin says, his hands rubbing over your thighs soothingly. “You okay?”

“‘M good,” you manage, your hands gripping at his forearms as you sink down deeper. Once he’s fully sheathed, you take a long moment to catch your breath, feeling the way he pulses inside of you.

Once you feel ready, you give an experimental roll of your hips, testing the waters. You both moan in unison, and when you look up at Seokjin it’s clear he’s using all of his restraint not to fuck up into you.

“God,” he grits out, pained. “You feel so good.”

“You do, too,” you moan, setting a slow rhythm for yourself as you fuck yourself on his cock. “Always feel good, Jinnie.”

He surges forward to kiss you, the shift in angle making you gasp into his mouth. Your kisses are sloppy, unable to maintain any finesse as your movements become more confident, more desperate.

When he decides you can take it, his hips start to snap up to meet yours.

“Fuck,” you moan against his lips, overwhelmed by the intensity. “God—Jin, holy shit.”

“Look so good on my cock,” he groans, pulling back from the kiss to watch the way you bounce in his lap, his tongue darting out run over his bottom lip. “‘M never gonna get tired of seeing you like this.”

You’re going to cum. You were already close before, but now—with the way he’s gazing at you, with the feeling of him inside of you—you’re so close to tipping over the edge it’s making your head spin.

“It’s okay,” he soothes, his hand snaking between your bodies to rub your clit with his thumb. “Cum for me, baby. So beautiful.”

That’s all it takes. The pleasure is overwhelming, your muscles tightening as you muffle a cry into his shoulder. Seokjin lets out a low moan, his thrusts turning erratic under you as he fucks you through your orgasm.

You’re limp on top of him, moaning incoherently as Seokjin chases his own release, the sounds of his hips slamming up against your ass rattling around in your ears.

“Fuuuuck,” he groans as he spills into you. He slows to a stop, both of you panting as his forehead presses against yours. Eyes squeezed shut, you fumble blindly for his hands to lace your fingers with his, still catching your breath.

It feels so right, being with him like this again. You were afraid, at first, that there was too much baggage between you for it to feel this good. But sitting here now, both of you glowing with pleasure, all of that fear is gone.

“Seokjin,” you pant, squeezing his hands. “Don’t let me leave again. If we’re going to do this, I need you to fight for me.”

When you open your eyes, Seokjin is grinning at you stupidly. He looks so, so fond that it makes your heart skip a beat.

“I already told you, I’m not losing you again,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your nose.

“Good,” you say, a soft smile playing at your lips.

It feels like a moment. You’re both exactly where you should be, wrapped up in each other as if you’d never been apart in the first place. 

“...Are you going to tell me you love me while my dick is still inside you?” he teases, his grin growing even wider.

Huffing, you smack at his chest, earning a wheezing laugh from him.

“I do love you, you idiot,” you complain. Kim Seokjin, the king of ruining moments, seriously.

“I know, baby,” he says, stifling his laughter enough to kiss you softly. “I love you, too.”

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[sixosix]

wc 900, guys i’m still a 4.0 lore player so forgive me if lyney’s getting ooc now 🙁 but anw ENJOY THIS MESS OF A GUY!! requested by anon

or, lyney can't stop staring at your lips

Lyney is beginning to think he might be obsessed with you. Or that you’re bad for him.

He’s stumbling over his lines when he sees you in the audience, his fingers catch on each other when he catches you smiling knowingly, and he gets nervous—the most absurd tell. It’s unlike him to feel his heart pounding in his ears when he’s already started the show. None of this feels natural.

It gets to the point where Lynette has to drag him off after a scene, worry evident on her usually-passive features.  “What’s happening to you?”

“I think I might be going insane,” Lyney admits, running his hand across his face. “I can feel it, Lynette. I’ve gone mad.”

All because you kissed him and he damn near exploded on the spot.

It wasn’t a special kiss. There wasn’t even tongue involved. He didn’t even see it coming. Hell, it was half a second and only on the side of his lips. Can it even be counted as a kiss?

If kisses could drive Lyney to a point where he can’t stop thinking about your lips, it might.

Lyney makes a pitiful noise, like a wounded animal. Lynette sighs heavily, as in relief that it’s not anything serious. But it is something serious. How is he supposed to move on in his life when you’re the only thing running through his head?

“Lynette,” Lyney cries, “this isn’t normal. I’ve caught something. Check my temperature.”

“You’re lovesick,” she replies simply, batting the hand that’s trying to get her to place her palm on his forehead. “and you have a show to finish. Get it together, brother.”

Get it together. Yeah, he can do that—if the object of his desires isn’t seated in the front row. But for now, Lynette is glaring daggers, stern like a mother, and Lyney sucks it up and makes a point of avoiding your eyes later on.

Avoiding your eyes usually means staring at other parts of your face.

Lyney feels the last bit of his sanity chip away when you decided it would be a splendid idea to wear something glossy over your lips, as if he wasn’t already distracted enough as is. You have got to be doing this on purpose.

Your tongue swipes over your bottom lip. He feels lightheaded.

“You look desperate,” Lynette tells him, which is frankly enough to make him want the ground to swallow him whole.

This also gets to a point where Freminet pulls him aside and asks him if he’s feeling sick. He feels like it. Lovesick and desperate, as Lynette so elegantly put it.

How embarrassing. Is this what you’ve reduced him to? Freminet looked at him with all wide, worried eyes, and Lyney can’t outright say the reason for his predicament. He excuses that he feels tired, and he doesn’t mention that his lips are feeling incredibly lonely.

Freminet, precious and understanding and thankfully unaware, nods and says, “I hope you feel better soon.” Lyney finds that unlikely, but he thanks him anyway. “Oh, and you should look behind you.”

Lyney turns and finds you waving at him, gesturing for him.Your fingers curl and it almost looks like you’re calling for a pet. And Lyney, weak and obsessed Lyney, follows without a second thought. Try as he might, he can never stay too long away from you, because as much as you’re driving him crazy, seeing you, hearing you, is enough to brighten his entire day and momentarily forget you’re the reason why he almost messed up with his lines.

He stands before you with a bit of distance. You want him gone so you pull him by the collar until his head is dipped down.

“You look feverish,” you say. Feverish, desperate, the list could go on and on.

I feel like it, Lyney wants to say; instead, his words are caught on the tip of his tongue as your eyes trace over his entire face. He feels as if he’s laying himself bare for you, but he finds that he doesn’t mind it at all, not when he’s soaking up your attention like he doesn’t know how to do anything else.

“Hey,” you whisper, a testament to your proximity, a smirk on your face, “my eyes are up here, Lyney.”

Lyney frowns, feeling petulant now that he’s aware of your schemes. “I’m not being indecent; please don’t phrase it like that.” Or is it worse that he’s ogling your mouth?

You laugh brightly, and he melts just a little. “You’re too obvious, Lyney.” He loves it when you say his name. He’s addicted to how your mouth carves his name. A poke on his cheek startles him enough to look up to your eyes, shame crawling in his cheeks. “See? You’re doing it again.”

“I don’t know what you’re on about.”

“Lyney.” You have got to stop doing that. Then again, he’s starting to think you’re doing it on purpose seeing how it affects him terribly. “If you want something, take it. Don’t stand around and do nothing about it.”

Lyney’s breath hitches, his blush climbing higher from his neck to his entire face. “Don’t just say that.” He can’t handle your crooked grin. He pulls you to his chest and buries his face on your neck—if it’s to keep your face away or to hide his expression, no one would be able to tell. “You can’t just say that.”

“I know what I’m saying. Don’t take me for a fool.”

Your lips brush his. His mind blanks. You’re bad for him—you have to be, but everything that comes after feels natural, at least.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Promise

Hardersson x Child!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: Magda takes Pernille to dinner

The restaurant is fancier than the restaurants that Momma and Morsa usually take you to.

Evidently, Momma thinks so too because she holds your hand a little tighter and pulls you in front of her.

"Magda," Momma says," Are you sure this is the right place?" She looks down meaningfully at you.

The usual restaurants you go to aren't fancy like this. They're homey places, much more likely to be family-run for years rather than being awarded Michelin stars.

"Yep," Magda says as the host takes them towards a private booth at the back.

You're big enough now that you don't need to sit in a high chair anymore but Magda and Pernille still box you between them in the booth, sitting so you're in the middle and they're facing each other.

"This is expensive, Magda," Pernille warns.

"We can afford it."

"I know but, still."

"It'll be fine," Magda assures her," I promise."

This whole trip was out of the blue.

They had just come home from training when Magda sent Pernille off to the bedroom to change into something fancier than the usual tracksuit bottoms and old shirt she usually wore post training.

There was already something laid out on the bed and, by the time Pernille was finished, you and Magda had also changed. Tomorrow was a day off so it wasn't out of the ordinary for you all to go out the night before but not in fancy clothes and not to this fancy restaurant that looks like a little girl like you shouldn't be in it.

"Is there a kid's menu?" Pernille asks.

You frown. "I want a big girl meal."

Magda laughs, leaning over to kiss the top of your head. "I've ordered ahead for her."

Pernille raises a brow. "How did you even get a reservation for this place?"

"Millie knows a guy."

"You make it sound like she's in the mob."

"She could be."

"What's the mob?" You ask.

"Nothing, princesse," Magda laughs," Here. The nice host lady brought you some paper and crayons."

You grab the crayons quickly, scrawling over the paper with reckless abandon.

"I'm serious, Magda. What's going on?"

"Can't I take my girls out for a special evening?"

"You can," Pernille says, eyes narrowed in suspicion," But at a place like this? You're up to something."

Despite her suspicions, Pernille does end up having a nice time. The food is good, the wine is great. The company is, obviously, even better.

You seem to be having fun too, going through all of the crayons as you draw a picture of the three of you standing under a rainbow together.

The dress you're wearing, now that Pernille inspects it, is a perfect match to her own, right down to how it's styled on your body. Both of them compliment the ensemble that Magda's wearing, Pernille notices as Magda rises from her seat to take you to the bathroom.

You look like a perfect pair.

Pernille can see a lot of Magda in you, all the way down to the way you walk. You've got Magda in your face and your smile and the way you giggle hysterically when Pernille tickles your tummy.

You return after a few minutes without Magda, reaching out for Pernille's hand with the same secret smile on your face that Magda has when she's about to do something surprising.

"Where's your Morsa?" Pernille teases, allowing you to pull her up.

"She's outside," You say," She paid earlier. Come on, Momma!" You pull at her insistently. Clearly, Pernille isn't moving fast enough.

You pull her out of the restaurant and across the road to the play park.

Magda's waiting by the gate and you stop in front of her. You turn to look at Pernille.

You smile at her, the exact same as Magda's smile, before squeezing her as tight as you can.

Magda picks you up and you cover something with your hands.

"What have you two planned?" Pernille teases, her own smile ghosting her lips.

"Pernille," Magda says," I love you."

"I love you too."

"I understand that this moving in together thing is still new-"

"We've been moved in for a year?"

"I have a speech," Magda laughs," Can you let me get through it?"

Pernille laughs too. "Alright. I suppose so."

Magda clears her throat. "As I was saying...I understand that this moving in together thing is still new and I know that there's going to be a few hiccups along the way but I love you and I love Princesse and I love this little family we've made. I know we want a future together. Honestly...I...This came out of nowhere and I know we're still in the height of our careers but..."

She nudges you.

"Please agree to be engaged to be engaged to Morsa!" You say, holding out the little ring you've been hiding in your hands.

It's a fairly simple ring, clearly not a proper engagement ring but it's still beautiful. Pernille takes it from your hands, slipping it onto her finger.

"Yes," She says," I will be engaged to be engaged to your Morsa."

You cheer, a beautiful round of bubbly giggles spilling from your throat as Momma pulls Morsa into a kiss.

Morsa's cheeks are all pink when she pulls away and she's got one of those silly star struck smiles on her face that she gets when Momma is around her.

"Can we get ice cream now?" You ask and they both laugh.

"Yes, Princesse," Morsa says," Let's get ice cream."

[gatorbites-imagines]

Hello! First of all I wanted to say that damn I love your fics, they give me so much gender euphoria and are so validating. Second, I understand if you feel unconfortable with this request but how do you think Homelander would react to reader's self harm scars? Since he's basically a god, I wouldn't be suprised by how a "fragile little creature" like a human could do this and why.

John Gillman/Homelander x male reader

Headcanons

idk why i chose this gif, he just looks so cute here.

I ignore how in canon hed probably be a horrible guy about it. I am a firm fanon believer.

In the beginning I don’t even really think John would register that his lover has self-harm scars, since it’s never something he’s thought about himself. I imagine he’s had self-harming thoughts before sure, but never cutting himself since nothing can cut through him.

Hes probably tried to hurt himself one way or another, since he isn’t really the best place mentally, or when he thinks he isn’t doing good enough and whatnot.

But at first it doesn’t really click for him, since he’s so unused to seeing scars since he has none himself. It would probably take John longer than he would like to admit for it all to make sense, and it would be after you got comfortable enough to go around in short sleeves.

Maybe you think he’s just always known, since he’s got x-ray vision and all that, so he must have known from the beginning, right? And he just never said anything about it. yeah, not really.

He will act like that’s how it all went, because there’s no way Johns gonna admit that he didn’t notice something so important, no matter if they are old or fresh. If they’re fresh, John would build a habit of checking on you every time he sees you, just in case, you know?

He might still do this, even if they are old and you haven’t done it in a long time. Because who knows, maybe things become so stressful that you need that outlet again.

Shamefully, to John at least, the hero would find himself going online to check it out. Hes got no training in mental illness or how to deal with that, which messes with him since he’s supposed to be perfect.

So he finds himself on different forums, from both people who have done it, and partners of people who have self-harmed, reading into how they deal with it or react. John being, well, John, would probably grow annoyed because its all types of emotionally vulnerable stuff, something he’s horrible at.

There is also little chance he would bring it up, at least in the beginning. Again, because it’s a new ground he’s never been on, and its an emotional conversation he can’t figure out how to navigate.

The conversation would end up coming up as you two are cuddling, and John finds himself carefully stroking the area with the scars, trying to comprehend why and how you would do that. What did you go through? There might also be some guilt, since he couldn’t save you from whatever made you self-harm, even if you guys didn’t even know each other at the time.

It would end up with you explaining it to him, since you guys are in a relationship and its all built on trust, right? And he’s been so chill about it this entire time, so why not tell him.

You almost get a heart attack when he starts getting glossy eyes and his bottom lip wobbles just a little, because John has been stressed about this since he figured it out, and he just doesn’t know how to react or what to do.

In the end its you that has to comfort him, and explain that it isn’t a big deal and nothing to cry about. But you also know it’s a new experience for John. Theres also some fear in John, since seeing your scars make your morality so clear. If you could get scars from that, imagine what others could do to you.

After some cuddling and comforting, John would tell you strictly to never do it again. You cant take him seriously though, since his usually styled hair is all mused and his eyes are pink around the edges, and, he’s pouting again.

You promise not too though, since it gets him to smile a little and cuddle you again, clinging to you as hard as he dares with his super strength. You make him vulnerable, and the Homelander part of him doesn’t like that, but the John part of him basks in it, at how human you make him feel.

Maybe hed even let slip that he had thoughts like that too, even if he couldn’t cut or burn himself like you could. That just means his self-harm shone through in more mental or extreme ways.

John builds a habit of brushing his fingers or kisses over your scars, not just the self-harm ones, but all of them. Its part to remind himself that you are so fragile, but also to remind him that you are alive and there with him.

He won’t admit this though, since its cheesy. And he grows embarrassed if you ever bring it up, making him grumble and walk away to pout. It never lasts, and he’s back not long after.

[abswife]

modern gf! abby headcanons

i spend most of my day imagining what having abby as a girlfriend would be like so here's what my little gay brain came up with

nsfw at the bottom mdni

you guys would probably meet at a cafe

it'd be one of those cute little moments where you both ordered the same thing and when they called it out you both reached for it at the same time

you guys would start chatting after that, and she'd ask for your number before you left

you half expected her to not even text you, but the next day a random number popped up with the message "hi, it's abby from the cafe."

after a few dates you two made it official

she's the type of person that always wants you to come to her place rather her go to yours, she just likes seeing you with all of her stuff around

she's a big fan of the pet names babe, baby, and sweetheart

she likes to just chill with you, she doesn't feel like you guys always have to be doing something when you're together. she's perfectly content just reading or scrolling on your phones in the same room

in public, she doesn't really like to do more than just hold your waist or kiss your forehead, but at home she is glued to your side

big cuddlebug

she insists on going on biweekly dates, even if it's just to see a movie

would be so nervous to meet your parents, she would be practically shitting herself on the car ride, but when she actually meets them she is the very picture of respect

your parents said after that she seemed like "a very nice girl"

also slightly nervous for you to meet her dad, even though she knows that he'll love you

we all know that she is a gym rat, and she would love it if you came to the gym with her, even if you're doing completely different stuff

she knows how much you like her muscles, and will tease you if she catches you staring

however, you do the same thing when you catch her staring at your ass

she loves it when you wear her jackets, and she will wear your jewelry sometimes

she'll bring you flowers randomly, always from an actual florist

SHE LOVES WHEN YOU COOK FOR HER it makes her feel so domestic with you

i feel like she would be a doctor, maybe a cardiologist

she would come home from working long shifts and just drop into bed with you, not even bothering to take her scrubs off

sometimes you bring her lunch to work, and her smile and the kiss she plants on the top of your head make it worth the drive

she tells you that if you guys get married that you should stay at home, considering there wouldn't really be any reason for you to work since she makes a lot of money

she would be very happy to provide for you and you never having to lift a finger

she texts like a grandpa in the way that her texts seem to have no tone

you'll be like "i love you so much baby! <3"

and she'll reply "i love you too."

you know that she means it though lol

nsfw below

she is very passionate when it comes to sex

while it can be fun to just go at it, she prefers to slow down and really appreciate your body

she's a sucker for eye contact, she's always grabbing your chin to make you face her

she's a SWITCH argue with the wall

while she loves giving, babygirl also likes to be taken care of

as stated before, she loves your ass

she's always grabbing and slapping it, lightly that is unless you ask otherwise

she's not big on toys other than straps

when she uses her strap on you she can never decide if she wants to do missionary or doggy, usually makes you decide

because in missionary, she can see your face

but in doggy, she can see your ass

usually not very into you riding her, since she feels useless just laying there

riding her face however? that she can get into

but yeah that's all i can think of rn but i can a thousand percent make a part 2 so lemme know if i should

[alderaana]

₊‧°𐐪 re4 leon kennedy headcannons

since you all loved my re2 headcannons, let's move upwards shall we.

warnings; nsfw, ptsd, afab reader !

✧ after dealing with the plagas, it was hard for him to come home to you.

✧ it was hard to see you after everything, but it was relieving.

✧ still a man that craves physical touch. he would definitely open the door and search for you to envelop you in a really tight hug.

✧ "I'm home in one piece, I missed you."

✧ he wouldn't let go for a while, just comforting himself in your smell and holding you close.

✧ he would be like this for weeks. he refused therapy, just your love because 'that's all he needs'.

✧ leon was clingy. this wasn't new, but after Spain he was inseparable from you.

✧ "please let me come with you. i just need to be with you right now baby."

✧ everywhere, even if it was to just get gas. you had to call out of work because of leon.

✧ "i need to go back to work, leon."

✧ his heart would start POUNDING. this man wanted you under his watch 24/7. he was treating you like a prisoner. you like that though.

✧ "please don't go back yet, i already make enough money to handle the both of us.. please baby."

✧ he would always win that conversation. would look down at you as he holds your waist to his body. soft kisses everywhere, he knew how you worked.

✧ that's why you had been with him for so long, there was always energetic chasing of each other. always something that had both of you going crazy for each other.

✧ that carried into your guys' sex life as well.

✧ he always catered to you, worship from him every step of the way.

✧ "come on princess.... just let me taste you one more time. you know how good I've been for you..."

✧ he was a man of his word, always. he knew how to put you in the mood.

✧ soft kissing, brushing gently around the places that drove you crazy. your neck was his favorite place to kiss, or softly hold.

✧ let's talk about this man's playlist of music. he KNEW what he was doing when putting those songs on.

✧ "so beautiful... can't wait to fuck you.."

✧ his favorite position is missionary, especially if he's standing and you're laying on the bed. he also loves shower sex. something about the temperature and steam does something to him when he sees you.

✧ he KNOWS how to fuck you. why wouldn't he? he loves to slowly bottom out into you and then fuck you desperately.

✧ mans is vocal, he wants you to hear it. he likes the way you respond to the things he has to say. it's never cheesy or too much though, he usually softly says it in your ear.

✧ "fuck..... princess I love this. take me so well, could fuck you all day if you wanted that. gnna breed you and make you mine. you are mine.... this dick is yours... fuck we fit perfectly huh?"

✧ he is open to a lot, especially if it's something you want to try. he has found to enjoy things he didn't think he'd like if it wasn't for you.

✧ newfound enjoyments are; ice cubes, restraints on him, cockwarming, being dominated, and loves gags.

✧ he loved when you would take the gag out of his mouth, and use the spit as lubricant. something about that just ignited something in him.

✧ you guys have sex a lot, and leon was surprised at how high your drive is.

✧ he will never complain, he enjoys stuffing you full and you feel the same.

✧ you and leon had quite a few videos together, and some fun pictures. he would jerk off to them at work. whenever he was on missions it was hard for him to not think about them.

✧ what can he say? he loves pleasing his girl.

kind of bold, but let me know what you guys think ^^

[the-froschamethyst4]

Scars are beautiful

𖤐Pairing: Husband! König x Wife! Reader

𖤐Pronouns: She/Her

𖤐Warnings: fluff, smut, anxiety, language, insecurities, kissing, biting, blow job, mentioning of hard and soft (you know)

𖤐Summary: After König came back from the Military and is now living at home, he's worried his wife may not want him anymore because of all his scar he has on his body now.

—————

——————

It was a nice and sunny day in Germany right now. König sat on the couch in the living room in the same pajama pants he went to bed in and a tight black t-shirt that hugged his muscles just right.

He was just endlessly flipping through channels on the TV, he lands on one that he won't watch just have it play in the background as he does some house chores before Y/n, his wife of 4 years wakes up.

He fixed coffee for the both of them and unloaded the dishwasher and had placed his nasty, dirty and stinky gym clothes in the washer.

He pours some creamer in his coffee and no sugar; he doesn't like it overbearingly sweet like his wife does.

He fixed the way Y/n likes her coffee creamer and two spoonsful of sugar, he goes upstairs and just barely pushed the door open with his foot.

König saw Y/n was already up, she was just stretching upward, and the neck of her shirt exposes her right shoulder, she smiles seeing her husband come in holding her favorite mug knowing what's already in it.

"The way, I like it?" She asked, before he placed it in her hands.

"You already know it, liebe (love)," he kisses her temple and goes back downstairs, Y/n likes to stay in bed a little bit longer looking at her phone watching TikTok videos, going through X, Instagram and opening Snaps from her friends.

König held his mug and looked down at his hand, he saw the scar on the back of his hand that was like an 'X', after coming home from the Military his body was almost covered in scars, he became nervous that Y/n may not want to be with him anymore, he hates that he thinks like this, and he knows Y/n could NEVER leave him. Especially not over some scars.

He could see his reflection in the microwave and over his right eyebrow was a scar. The corner of his upper lip had a small scar that one hurt the most, he also knows his back and chest were covered in scars as well, he hasn't taken his shirt off around Y/n after coming home a month ago.

Y/n's honestly never really noticed that he hasn't done it, before he would almost walk around the house naked.

Y/n finally came downstairs and smiled at her husband, but she could see his face was done. She walks up to him.

"König?"

"Oh hey," he says as if he didn't just see her not too long ago.

"Is everything okay?" She asks.

"Umm~" he was hesitant. "How do you feel about my scars? Have you noticed that I'm basically not walking around the house naked anymore?"

Y/n took a deep breath. "I mean I haven't noticed really, I thought since he was around guys a lot you learned to be a little more modest or something but...the scars, King...they do not bother me. I love you, don't I? If they did, wouldn't I have left already? I will never leave you over some scars that showed your bravery. I could never do that to you..." she says, cupping his face and kissing him.

He smiles into the kiss knowing he'll feel safe with Y/n no matter what.

"Usually this is the opposite type of conversation, you're usually the one trying to calm me down about my insecurities." She smiles.

"Well, sometimes I need that encouragement too."

"I know," she places her pointer finger under his chin and her thumb tugged at his bottom lip before kissing him again.

He slightly moans into the kiss. his hands went to her waist as she did all the work, her hands on his shoulders but one measly moving down tugging at the pajama pants.

He smirks knowing what she wanted, and he knows what himself wanted as well.

"Are you sure?"

She pulls away from him. "The last time we did it was the night you came back home and nothing after that, yes, I want it," she says as he smirks and started to tug his pants down, she gets off him just a little bit to see his dick.

It wasn't hard just yet; she goes on her knees and looks up at him. He moves down just a little bit slouching on the back of the couch. The cold air against his lower half just made him twitch just a little bit till her hand goes around him.

Immediately he wanted to cum in her hand.

"H-Holy shit!"

"I haven't done anything yet, King," she giggles.

"I know, but your hands are so soft and...your hands, just look small holding me," he says while holding back a chuckle.

König was big and girthy even when soft he was still big. She starts to pump his cock in her hands, he placed his head back and let out a breathy moan.

"H-Holy fuck," he mutters. She looks up at him through her eyelashes, her eyes looked cute looking up at him. "D-Don't look a-at me like that," he says.

She smirks and hums around his cock. He jolts his hips up, his tip just barely hit the back of her throat.

König grips some of her hair and just rested his hand, he wasn't forcing her or anything, he wanted to let her know, he was comfortable.

She focused on bobbing her head and swirling her tongue around his dick. He places his head back again and felt himself twitch inside of her mouth.

Then he cums in her mouth. she moves her mouth and cum leaked from the corner of her mouth. He holds her chin and watches her swallow. She opens her mouth showing off that she could take him.

"That was fucking hot, liebe..." he removes his shirt and kicked his pants away from his feet, he picks her up off the floor. "I want to stuff you now," he says making Y/n giggle at him.

"Do your worst," she teases.

--------

König was sweating from head to toe, his hair stuck to his forehead as Y/n was shaking, her body was sweaty as well, her body laid limp on the bed, trying her hardest to catch her breath.

She felt small and useless under König.

He gets off of her and laid next to her looking up at the ceiling with her, her soft pants were the only thing his ears could focus on. He sits up now and looks down at her tummy.

He leans down to rest his ear against her.

"What are you doing?" She asks.

"I just thought...how wonderful and cool would it be to have a...little us running around the house?"

"A baby?"

"Yeah...why not...I talked with Price, he has 2 two kids of his own and he says when he retires, he wants to be part of their lives...and I want that too..."

"King...could I think about it?"

Y/n sometimes feels like she's ready for a kid, but she also feels like she's not ready just yet. She was a big kid of her own looking right at her.

"I'm just not sure if we are ready to have a kid yet...I have you to worry about first."

"Okay, okay, I understand," he said, looking down and chuckling. "Please do think about it."

"I will and I will get back to you when I have an answer," she giggles as König smiled and leaned down kissing her lips again.

[moonstruckme]

In a Week - send a character + au and I'll write a blurb for it (like vampire!Eddie, bodyguard!Sirius, etc.)

I'm not picky, can it be a jealous!fic with either poly!marauders or sirius or hell even peter parker????

Lol I’m not sure this really counts as an au but sure! I imagine Sirius Black and his Slytherin babe aren’t exclusive just yet, so I decided to use your request as an excuse to write him being a bit upset about that, thanks honey!

join the party

Sirius Black x Slytherin!reader ♡ 950 words

Sirius doesn’t know why he’d talked his friends into coming to this stupid party in the first place. James is bickering with half of the Slytherin quidditch team, Remus is just emanating annoyance, and Sirius is watching you over the rim of his cup as you endeavor to swab the back of some seventh-year’s throat with your tongue. 

He’d come to see you, obviously, but you don’t even know he’s here, turned away from him where you’ve backed the Slytherin boy up against the wall. Sirius knows it’s a bad idea, but he doesn’t try to halt the natural course of his thoughts; he wonders if this bloke is biting your bottom lip the way you like, if he knows to kiss that place under your jaw that turns you to putty, if he appreciates how silky the hair he’s got his fingers tangled in is, how much work you put into making it that soft. Sirius knows too well what the fucker is feeling right now. How demanding you can be when you want something, fingernails digging into the soft skin of his shoulders, the way you tilt your chin to kiss up at him. He hopes this guy knows how good he’s got it, and he also hopes you’re not actually doing any of the things you do with Sirius. 

The seventh-year grabs a handful of your ass, and that’s it. 

Sirius stalks across the room, pretending to be headed for the punch table before stumbling and tossing his drink down the boy’s pants. 

“Whoops,” he says, not bothering to add much inflection to his voice as the boy looks at him in outrage. “Sorry, mate.” 

“Sirius.” Your eyebrows come together, lips swollen and eyes somewhat glazed. The sight makes Sirius’ blood thrum on instinct and memory, but he ignores it. “What’re you—”

“What the fuck, Black?” The Slytherin shoves him, and Sirius has to bite back a giggle—a giggle, how sadistic would that look—itching for a fight. “You and your friends are crashing Slytherin parties now just to pick fights?”

He thinks he sees a whoosh of red in his periphery, and wonders if it’s James or Remus that’ll be coming to his rescue, but then you’re stepping in front of him, so close that lovely hair is tickling his nose. 

“Rhodes,” you say sharply, and Sirius doesn’t blame Rhodes for freezing. He would too, if you used that tone on him. “Go get cleaned up. I’ll handle this.” 

Rhodes curls his lip at Sirius as he goes towards the dorms, but Sirius isn’t easily intimidated by people who run away. Then you whirl on him, and he sort of gets it. 

“What the hell was that?” you ask, grabbing him by the sleeve and dragging him into a corner so you’re less of a spectacle. “What are you even doing here?”

“Thought I’d stop by and see what all the hype was about.” Sirius leans back against the wall, crossing his arms and looking about the room. “Have to say, I’m not particularly impressed. The PDA at Gryffindor parties is at least usually tasteful.” 

You scoff at him, cocking an eyebrow. “You wish we were having PDA at Gryffindor parties, Black.” Apparently Sirius doesn’t respond quickly enough, or more likely something in his expression betrays him, because in the next second your own face sobers. “We never said we were exclusive.” 

“I know that,” he says automatically, though in truth he’d never thought of it. Your relationship had been mostly casual thus far, but what needs could you have that Sirius wasn’t meeting? What could you want from other guys? “I just didn’t expect to be assaulted with the sight of it on a Thursday night.” 

You sigh as though Sirius is a difficult child you have to appease. “Well, when you come to my house’s party without letting me know in advance, I can’t exactly prepare to accommodate what you do or don’t want to see.” 

It’s all Sirius can do to keep his insouciant facade intact when you talk like that, as if he’s only one in your lineup of men, and the most demanding one at that. “Oh?” he asks, flicking up a brow. “And would you not have been snogging what’s-his-name if I’d given you notice that I’d be here?”

You look at him evenly. “If I’d known you would be here, I wouldn’t have had to find someone else to snog.” 

“Oh.” Oh. “Well, I’m here now.” Not his best line, admittedly, but Sirius feels like he has whiplash, going from fighting to flirting in half a second. You had been fighting, hadn’t you? 

You actually smile at him, biting your bottom lip as if to contain it. “You are.” 

“And apparently there’s some sort of Slytherin distasteful PDA tradition to keep up, isn’t there?”

You shrug. “Depends on who you ask, I suppose.” 

“Well.” Sirius presses his hand to the small of your back, getting in your space. “I think we ought to take up the mantle, gorgeous.” 

You cast your eyes about the room as if nervous who will see, and Sirius stops, pulling back a bit to give you a sober look. 

“Unless you want to go somewhere else?” he asks, doing his best to let you know that it’s okay if that’s what you do want. 

You gnaw on your lip for a second, then shake your head, your eyes hardening decisively. “No,” you say, placing a hand on either side of his face. “Best not mess with tradition, right?”

Sirius nods so ardently you have to hold him still to kiss him, feigning exasperation, but he can feel your smile as it lines up with his. 

[yandere-sins]

The Orcas' Tale - Lyr's Story I

And here he is, our sweetest, craziest, loveliest boy ♥ Honestly, it was fun giving Lyr a bit more personality than he had in the original story, and I am also glad to have provided him with a cute little darling of his own. I hope you guys enjoy slipping into the role of a mermaid, and ehem look forward to a different kind of spice (;

Fandom: Original Content   Pairings: Yandere!Orca Merman x GN!AFAB!Reader   Warnings: Yandere, Sexual Content (Non-Con Kissing/Touching/Fingering, Bondage kind of), Violence (Threats to kill/harmm reader, Sharp teeth/claws, Almost tearing off reader's jaw), Monsters/Non-Human reader, Animalistic behavior, Mention of blood/claws/sharp teeth, Hinting at death/non-con, Feeding the reader seal meat, Being caught in a net, Long post

"They just won't stop bugging! Like, I get it, Mom, bringing a human into the pod was stupid and dangerous, but it's not our fault that Nerrocan left!"

Heaving a deep sigh, Lyr looked up at the water's surface through the holes in the ceiling of the cove he had found. Light was shimmering into the mostly calm water, a few tiny fish slipping in and out of the cave-like structure while he rested on his back, ignoring any wildlife of the ocean as he had no interest in small fry. They didn't get close enough to be caught, wary of the superior predators of the sea, who, unbeknownst to anyone's eyes, looked more like friends hanging out than what they really were—captor and captive.

Despite his annoyance and loud complaining, he looked tired. You had witnessed many a mood of his ever since he decided to hide you away for his own enjoyment, but as of late, every time Lyr visited you, he looked more exhausted than the last. As usual, his eyes were dull, and his dorsal fin collapsed. For an orca in his best years, he looked like he'd been dragged through the blue hell, but it invoked no sympathy inside you. All you could do was listen and observe, but knowing he was the merman responsible for your misery, you felt no pity for your clearly mentally unstable captor. Reaching to his left, Lyr picked another piece of meat from the seal carcass he had hunted, slipping the food into his mouth before continuing his rant.

"Who'd have known that guy had it in him. Can't help but respect him getting the fuck out of the pod, and I'm glad I don't have to see his wannabe goody two-fin face anymore. It's been getting harder to put him in his place with how aggressive he suddenly got."

"Won't they miss him?"

Lyr stopped chewing, his head falling to the side, facing you. Muddy purple eyes sprang to life, reflecting the light as brilliant as rare corals. With one big gulp, he devoured what had been left of his meal, a toothy grin spreading over his lips. "Look who decided to talk! Who's gonna miss him? His mommy? Sure. It's not like she has a dozen more just like him."

For a moment, you held his stare, watched the grin stretch wider, and twisted his expression into a grimace before you lowered your eyes, settling on drawing swirls into the sand. It wasn't like you wanted to have a conversation with him, but listening day in and day out to his crazy rambles and complaints was just as bovine as engaging with the madman. 

"That's not very nice. I'm sure his mom loves them all equally. You've got a big family, after all."

"Nah," he retorted, shaking his head. Picking out a bone from the seal's body, he used it as a toothpick, cleaning out the sharp-edged teeth he loved flashing you. "Orcas aren't like yours. We don't love each other just because we share the same blood or come from the same mother. Either you're useful to the pod and do what you're told, or you're at the very bottom of the food chain. I could never be the same as Krill, no matter how hard I tried. He was always Mom's favorite, so now I just don't try anymore. It doesn't even matter to them where I am, but it suits me. Now I got a lot more time to spend with ya!"

Now it was your time to grimace while Lyr flopped onto his side and closer to you, surely noticing the tension growing in your body as you felt appalled by the ever-closing distance. He tossed the bone carelessly into the water while your movements abruptly stopped. You wished it was as easy as the flap of your fin to get away from him, but you were rendered helpless to his touch, unable to get away from his pointed finger dragging over your forearm, his claw teasing your softer skin. He didn't just have the advantage of size, but you knew that no matter how haggard he might appear, you'd be no match against him in a scuffle. Much less now that you were trapped.

And your growling stomach wasn't helping.

While you let out an exasperated groan, Lyr laughed loudly about your misery, finding your dependency on him to not starve hilarious. As much as you despised being at his mercy, you had no choice but to humor him if you wanted to survive, even when he enjoyed your reluctant behavior so much that he held his stomach aching from laughter. 

"You could have just told me you're hungry!" he teased, grinning from ear to ear at you while you gave him an ashamed glare, staying silent as a stone in your spot, belly-down in the sand. "I don't mind sharing, ya know? There's still so much of this yummy seal left, it would be a shame to give it to the fish. You know what you gotta do to earn it, right?"

Gritting your teeth, you watched the smugness wash over his expression as he sent you into yet another predicament. You even considered eating a heap of sand instead of bowing to his will. As if being trapped wasn't enough, he just had to exploit you at every chance he got, and you hated how easily your survival instinct made these reckless decisions for you, which he'd never let you live down. The hole in your stomach didn't get any smaller. Lyr's last visit had been a few days already, and you were in no condition to hunt efficiently for yourself. So aside from small, stupid fish that came too close to you, you hadn't eaten outside of his visits, and it was starting to show. 

You knew what you had to do. Unfortunately.

No matter how much your brain screamed at you not to, your body knew it instinctively, propping itself onto your forearms while you sighed inwardly, feeling defeated by your needs. Moving was the hardest part about being caught in a net. It was an unusual heavy net with clunky weights that had slung around your fin and lower body, dragging you to the ground where Lyr had found you. Even he had been surprised by the sturdiness of this net when he first inspected it but quickly had taken advantage of the situation, dragging you to this much more hidden place and out of plain sight so he had you all to himself. At least he didn't kill you; that's what you told yourself. But death was more merciful than Lyr, that much you knew by now. 

He had no problem being patient when it meant watching you struggle as you dragged yourself toward him. Lyr didn't even mind you digging your meager claws into his skin when you grabbed onto him, using his body to support yourself while you lifted off the ground, close enough to feel his watery breath ghost against your face. Placing your lips over his, you flinched away in reluctance before forcing yourself to keep going, counting to three this time before twisting your head to the side. 

Lyr hummed, sounding dissatisfied as you felt his hand brush up your spine. Nesting his palm at the nape of your neck, you refused to look forward again until he twisted his own head to find your lips, his much sharper, much more dangerous claws only curling into place the second he got what he wanted. Now, with an appreciative chortle, he relished in stealing another kiss, tongue swiping over your pursed lips until he found a hole in your defense, worming into your mouth. 

You were no stranger when it came to mating habits, but compared to your fellow dolphins, Lyr was surprisingly gentle. He relished in your defiance but seemed to enjoy enticing little moans and gasps from you just as much. His tongue was a choking hazard in a mouth that wasn't fit to house it. Though you had gills, you could barely concentrate on breathing while you fought against him as best as you could. Still, he took his sweet time exploring every inch, letting air flow out of his mouth and into yours, never not considering you while doing what he wanted. He even softened his hold on you, rubbing his palms down your back in a spine-tingling motion when you stopped struggling against him. It was almost like he was rewarding you for good behavior, and it was sickeningly pleasurable.

But the taste of flesh and blood lingering on his tongue made your stomach growl, your body eagerly moving towards him, hoping to find food. All you gained was a chuckle before he nicked your lower lip with his sharp teeth in warning. Your fangs probably wouldn't be able to bite through his thick tongue, but despite this weird obsession he had with you, he was almost more wary of you than you of him. It seemed like he could never cut himself loose completely despite having nothing to fear from an easy target like you. He seemed so relaxed and unbothered whenever he visited you, but it was almost as if he was plagued by invisible ghosts whispering into his ears. 

Despite his warning, you found his arms wrapping around your body, pulling you on top of him before you two rolled over to the other side, Lyr resting you gently down in the sand. He didn't care that the net that had trapped you to the ocean floor also got dragged over his tail, unbothered by possibly getting stuck like you were. Perhaps he simply didn't mind that thought as much as you did. To be fair, considering he was much stronger and the material had yet to wrap around and get stuck on his fins like it had with yours, it posed no threat to the orca. And yet, it was infuriating to you, who wanted nothing more than to swim away and reunite with your own kind. 

Propping his arm in the sand next to your head, he looked down at you with a satisfied smile and a mischievous spark in his eyes but reached over you, grabbing a piece of seal meat. He brought it up to your lips, dabbing it against them, though you refused to open for him. "I can feed myself just fine," you reminded him, wiggling your hands in the air to demonstrate your ability to hold things before trying to take the food from him.

"Now, don't be ungrateful, or I'll bring you a turtle shell to gnaw on next time."

You could feel your face contort in disgust at his suggestion, reluctantly parting your lips to nib at the food dangling in front of your face. Once you had a taste of meat, your body couldn't resist, gobbling up every last bite hungrily while Lyr kept providing it for you with a smile. If he wasn't fast enough, your teeth would drag over his fingers, but he wouldn't even flinch or scold you, his fin slapping against the sand instead, almost as if he enjoyed your nibbles. 

Seal wasn't your preferred food, but in times of food scarcity—like it has ever since getting holed up with Lyr—it was as good as any. The rest of the carcass was devoured faster than your excited stomach wanted, and you still didn't feel satisfied after eating every last piece. Had you been free, you'd have gone hunt for more without a moment of rest. But the gnawing hunger had subsided at least, and if Lyr came back again soon, you'd at least not have to endure it for too long until the next meal. 

Pausing your thoughts, you realized you had just longed for Lyr to provide for you again soon, immediately turning the hunger into nausea as you pondered on it. 

You were too quiet, too long for his taste as he sought out your lips again after your meal. Brushing his thumb over them, your instinct mistook his finger for more food. You could barely stop yourself from biting into his gnarly claw as the urge to eat won over again. However, your mouth was open long enough as realization dawned on you of what you were doing, for him to cup your face instead, turning it slightly to him so his tongue could lick over your lips and dip in again. Lyr hummed merrily as he tasted the seal on you, unashamed, unbothered by you struggling to keep him out, fingers wrapping around his throat—unsuccessful in deterring him. He was waiting for your breath to run out before taking the chance to deepen the kiss again, ever so patient with you. 

"I think I get it now," he mumbled, breaking the kiss before leaving some more superficial brushes of his lips against yours. "Nerrocan was onto something. We just didn't know it."

"Why didn't you go with him then?" you mumbled back, turning your face away to avoid any more unwanted affection, even if it meant resting it in his palm. 

To your surprise, Lyr scoffed loudly, and you flinched away as you could feel his mood shift. His palm didn't grow stiff and rigid. However, you still forced yourself away from it, too afraid he might—possibly on accident, but much more likely intentionally—rake his claws over your face, leaving wounds deep and painful. It was useless, however, as he used the same hand to collect your floating hair instead, forcing you to look at him while his gaze drilled into you with fury swirling in his eyes. 

"Listen, I might not remember how we got to that place, but I know all the shit they did to us!" 

You whimpered as he pulled your hair back, your neck struggling to keep up with his demands from your position. Lyr took a sharp breath, pausing the angry flashing of his fangs as he watched you cowering in front of him, ever so slightly calming down at the sight of fear flashing in your eyes. You hated him when he mocked you and also when he was delighted in your suffering. But you hated his anger more, his haggard body still crushing and his fangs and claws sharp despite whatever he went through. One bite into your throat, and you were a goner, especially with how exposed the soft flesh was to him now.

"I'll never go back there! Never! They cut us open, prod inside us with their disgusting hands, and inject strange fluids into me! They… They changed us. Changed me. And now I don't even know–"

His hand was trembling in your hair as he let out a shuddering breath. You caught his eyes for only a split second, watching the brilliant purple turn into mushy darkness. Lyr shook his head as if confused while his voice trailed off, his free hand rising as he hid his face from you for a moment. You weren't sure if you were supposed to say anything, and even if, what could you say to that? You had no idea what he's been through, and even though you had your fair share of struggles in your life, you never experienced something quite as dramatic as he described. Then again, why would you try to comfort him? Lyr was perfectly able to help you in your time of need but had refused cutting the net for you again and again. Why would you give him kindness if he refused to do the same for you?

Being free of his attention, your eyes fell lower on his body. Just shy of where your tail rested over his. With his tail flipped over, you had a clear view of his collapsed dorsal fin, a pitiful sight for any creature like you. It made you think that something was wrong with him in the first place, as this was an unusual sight on any of your kinds. If what he said was true, maybe this experience had done this to him, understandably so, as it sounded awful. You couldn't bring yourself not to pity him despite your negative feelings towards him. 

Next to you, Lyr took a deep breath, pushing his short hair out of his face before he searched for your gaze. Desperately. Needy. Somewhere to ground him. You weren't sure what you saw in the darkened violet, but his features looked drained of vitality, as if the moment of silence had exhausted him completely. It made him look… vulnerable. But then he smiled again, his eyes lit up, and the strange feelings swirling in his irises were covered by excitement as he found yours, soaking in the sight before him.

"I really do get it now," he admitted, grin parting his lips, revealing his protruding upper left fang, the sharpest of them all. "I was so confused about the strange looks Nerrocan gave the human, but I realize I've been the same with ya—whatever it means. I keep coming back here just to see you. I want to stay right here with you, forever. Just us two. I'll hunt for us and make this cave pretty. Whatcha think, lil' dolphin?" 

"N-No, I don't think that will work," you mumbled, averting your eyes again as his gaze became too intense to keep up the eye contact. He seemed to drill into you as if to excavate your soul and lay it bare for him to tease and enjoy. You didn't like it one bit when he looked at you so intensely. 

You could tell by now that he was working himself into another ramble, but you didn't like how much it focused around you. Usually, he was complaining about his situation in his pod and how much his mom hounded him with expectations. Lately, his rants focused more on the human and Nerrocan and the waves their arrival and disappearance caused in their family. But while he was always strange when it came to you, being the sole focus of his attention felt uncomfortable. 

"I'm not sure I understand, but my pod is probably searching for me, and I've been away for so long already. They probably miss me terribly! If- If only I could get the net off, I wouldn't have to bother you at all! I'd be gone before you know it, and you wouldn't have to look after me! I'd be fine! Maybe you can try cutting it again with your claws, or… or maybe--"

Lifting your torso from the ground, you grabbed the net at its highest point, tugging at it and trying to loosen it up. You realized it was you who was rambling this time, but the conversation had taken a turn that you didn't want to make reality at all cost. You couldn't imagine yourself being this guy's pretty little cave warmer for all eternity, preferring the roughness of your own kind over his madness. Orcas weren't known to be gentle housemakers, no matter how much Lyr tried to sell it to you. Not even when he handled you gently, yet never did what you wanted. 

However, you were surprised when he reached down to the net, yanking at it with you. A yelp escaped you as he pulled your tail over his, the net cutting into your flesh painfully as he twisted and pulled until you had to fold up your tail, getting more and more caught. Nets usually weren't as much of a problem to sirens, but this one was sturdier and heavier than any fishing net you had encountered in your long life. 

So when Lyr caught your hands in it, you began to panic. 

"Wait! I'm getting wrapped up in it! Please stop, this isn't helping!" Your plea was ignored as Lyr slung the grating material over your wrists a few more times, ignoring your thrashing and panic with the calm of someone who had all the time in the world. Who had nothing to fear, especially not you. Tears welled up in your eyes as you tried to make him understand you wanted to get out of the net and not strung up in it more until he was done messing with you, flipping you over and pulling you close against him.

"That's not what I meant," you sobbed as he rested his head on top of yours, only cushioned by the arm he lent you as a headrest. 

"Isn't this so much better?" he asked, feigning innocence. But you couldn't believe his audacity to make you even more miserable. It was as if he wanted to make you as miserable as he was. "This way, you can't leave without my help. And I doubt your little pod will find you here."

"I just want to go home," you mumbled, anger slowly overtaking as the panic subsided. Your hands were bound tightly, your fin being the one hurting when you tried to lift them and vice versa. You felt truly trapped, and that made you angry rather than sad. It was strange, considering how, just a few minutes ago, you had almost pitied this male, but now, all you felt was rage.

"It's your home, now. Our home. We'll live here, unbothered by others. Just the two of us."

"It's not my home! Let me go!" you snapped, lips pulled back in a snarl. Dolphins were by far not the scariest predators, but your teeth were sharp and threatening as well! 

Or so you thought.

Lyr laughed at your display of a threat, seemingly amused that you were still fighting him. Without warning, he raised his hand to your face, squeezing both sides of your jaw until the pressure forced you to open it, and stuck his pointer and middle finger inside. He only needed these two to press your tongue down, your mouth wide agape with his claws scarily close to the back of your throat. You tried to close your jaw, bite down until he'd retract his hand, but Lyr didn't care. He didn't even mind your teeth digging into his flesh, leaving cute little cuts against his slick skin. 

"Careful, lil' dolphin. You're not in a position to make such scary demands of me, don't you know that already? I could kill ya." 

Unafraid of getting hurt, the pressure on your lower jaw increased, fingers purposely impaling themselves on your teeth while pain made you jolt as you felt your jaw dislodging slowly. You wiggled your trapped body, gurgling against his fingers before finally looking up at him as best as possible from your position, noticing the smug grin on his face. 

"I won't, of course."

Pulling his fingers out of your mouth, dragging out the motion until the last moment, you coughed, the taste of his blood on your tongue. There was no time to recover as Lyr nuzzled his face into the side of yours, oblivious to the thrumming in your jaw as you tried to relax it while the blood flow resumed. 

"You're too much fun alive, so I won't kill you," he admitted, grabbing your hands that rested against your chest and pulling them down, elevating some of the strain on your tail, and you finally breathed out. "But if you want to get rid of the net, maybe we can find a way to make this even more fun?"

You felt his lips sink to your cheek, your jawline, then trailing down your neck. A kiss for every one of your gills. The water around you was gentle and warm, but at that moment, it was like jumping into the ice-cold ocean after sunbathing on the surface, shocking and shivering through every bone of yours. 

While the arm your head rested on wrapped around your collarbones, holding on to your shoulder, the other hand started to wander lower. His fingers played around with the net, cutting through some of the squares until he could stick his hand through it, placing his palm on your stomach before sinking it dangerously low and pulling your hands down with it. So you wouldn't be able to grasp his arm on top, trying to make him stop as Lyr nibbled on your earlobe, the protruding fang drawing blood that he licked up without hesitation.

"Stop that!" you complained as his touch grew uncomfortably intimate, the pain in your jaw reverberating as you spoke. It had long dawned on you what his definition of 'fun' was, but you weren't as naive as to believe he'd actually stick to his word and cut you loose after getting what he wanted. It was better not to risk it than risk it for nothing. Your kind wasn't known to be gentle to their chosen lovers, but you never thought about mating with an orca. It wasn't normal! Wasn't what you were made to do! And if you were to survive it… you didn't want to think of the carnage that all of him would leave behind on your body. 

If his size was any indication, you were sure you couldn't take him without getting absolutely ruined in the process—and not the pleasurable kind of destroyed. More the ripped apart and bleeding out type. 

His hand found your slit, fingertip brushing lightly yet incessantly over it, leaving a tingling trail in its wake. You whimpered, ashamedly so, but instead of the expected mockery, you felt his chest rumble, a purr reaching your ears. It was soothing, relaxing, his body warming you from behind even as you desperately tried to deny feeling anything from his touch. 

But Lyr wasn't stingy with his surprises.

A chirp so oddly familiar resounded behind you, yet you were sure you had never heard that voice before. It took you a moment of complete stillness to realize it had been Lyr making that sound, yet it wasn't orca. It was dolphin. "How did you…?" you gasped, ignoring his inquisitive fingers prodding at your entrance, begging to be let in without having to use force.

"There's nothing I wouldn't do for you, lil' dolphin," he hummed, imitating some more whistles and clicks that were perfect and comforting, like the calls of your pod, yet were spoken by an uncanny voice. You felt the tears well up in our eyes again, as you couldn't help but gasp, following it with a moan, his finger slipping into you, teasing the soft, warm flesh awaiting him there. Lyr let out an appreciative sound that made your core clench with desire, all praise and all dolphin for letting him in. 

"You don't even like me," you gasped, hands wringing in the net. You were completely and utterly caught in this trap, and he had free range to your body while slowly gaining access to your very soul by imitating your own kind's calls of desire and adoration. Lyr's mouth pulled taut in a big grin as he felt you unwillingly relax and shudder in his arms, your tail buckling into his hand. You looked up to see the madness dance with satisfaction and need in his eyes before he leaned down to kiss you.

"That's where you're wrong, lil' dolphin," he chuckled, kissing you one more time, long and with relish, his fingers playing with you, adding one after the other as you loosened up to him, exploring the depths not meant for an orca.

"I like you very, very much."

[v88sy]

I really do think Tommy was coming from a place of feeling inadequate, being scared of getting hurt, and feeling like he will never be able to live up to this grand picture Buck had painted of him just a few sentences earlier.

He called him transformative. Brave.

All of it, including the relationship itself, is still new, and Buck is still figuring things, along with himself, out. There's nothing wrong to that.

Yeah, the wording didn't come off the best, I'll agree, but I really feel like Tommy is just scared of what will happen once the new wears off and Buck starts to see him as he sees himself.

Whether or not that's an inevitable truth remains to be seen, but to Tommy, it already is. It's probably already happened with partners in the past. "But they usually aren't" (first being last) reads to me as someone who's been there before, maybe more than once.

Tommy knows he's not the forever guy, and that was fine. Until he didn't want it to be.

And yes, let's be honest here. Asking someone to move in with you before you have even said I love you, or known them well enough to know they were engaged, is impulsive.

I also think Tommy got spooked by realizing Buck's "himbo" past. Not because he's judgemental about it, but because he wonders if Buck will ever want that again, same as Buck worrying that Tommy stringing Abby along meant he could do it again.

Bottom line, they were both wrong, and they were both wrong in how they reacted. They should have talked it out better. Tommy shouldn't have left, but I get why he did. Buck should've fought for him to stay.

If we never get them back together in that capacity, I at least hope we can see some on screen resolution where they make peace.