#also the top left one isn’t mine

[three-headed-monster]

screencaps from the connor bedard livestream 09.07.24

[cathnospam]

Continuing from This Drabble about you and your BF Katsuki answering sex questions about each other<3

Black Female Reader x Katsuki Bakugo , mentions of panty stealer bakugo, slight smut???

“Okay uh, how do you rate your partners kisses 1-10.”

“9”

“9?! Muthafucka I taught you how to kiss—-“

“You always push back first like you can’t handle it, it pisses me off.”

“I like breathing.”

“So.”

Rolling your eyes, “I was ganna say 12/10, but since you’re being a bitch—“

“So, 12/10 got it. Next.”

“Does your partner have any dirty secrets?…oooh.—-”

“M’going to bed.” Bakugo immediately gets up to take off his tank top seeing as he was going to sleep in your dorm tonight, but as the shirt clung to his semi flexing biceps you grab him, “No, y/n.”

“Oh c’mon boy are the secrets THAT bad?! I’ll tell you mine at least—-fuck.” He considers for a moment. Curiosity weighing heavier than his will to sleep at the moment, “You ass.”

“What did you call me—“

“I think…” You place two fingers on his soft lips, “One secret is that……….one time, when you were out on work study you left your black tank top in my room….and….i missed you….and i was ovulating so i….put on your tank top and ….played…with myself.”

The air was thick, it’s as if Bakugo took it as he grew closer to you while speaking, there wasn’t much to make him speechless but dammit that’s a new one.

Fuck. That’s actually more sexier than he wants to admit right now. He crossed his legs, hoping a tent won’t form in his grey sweats and noticed your eyes wandering at every part of your room but his eyes.

“I…moaned your name too.”

“You…you damn….pervert fuck—-“ His voice almost broke into a groan, looking away also embarrassed you knew he didn’t mean it in a malicious way from how he looked back at you, Adam’s Apple bobbing up and down, “Stop acting fucking weird. You did it. Who cares. As long as it was MY name you moaned.”

“Of course dumbass. I only want you…”

Bakugo felt his ears burning, already annoyed he was flustered once he groaned, “I took your panties once.”

“What?”

“Why the hell would you wear that lacy frilly shit during class in that short ass skirt? It’s like you want those idiots to see you.”

“That CANNOT be the reason—“

“IT IS. If you’re ganna wear ‘em wear them IN OUR dorms you dumbass.”

“…well.”

“Well what.” He pouts.”

“Well where the fuck are they I like wearing them after I get waxed.”

Bakugo hesitates, not wanting to actually answer mainly because he doesn’t just have ONE pair of panties. But a few. “I’ll show you later.”

“Tch.” You mock his sounds, “Ever use ‘em to masturbate?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

You giggle, you can only imagine what his perverted ass has done with them. And the last time you seen them was in your hamper so you assumed they got lost somewhere in the laundry. Honestly it’s kinda….interesting he’s telling you this.

“Does your partner have any no’s during?”

“I’m not calling you a bitch.”

“Aw.” You sarcastically sigh, “Why.”

“Why the hell would I call you out your name—“

“You called me your slut yesterday.”

“…Slip of the tongue.” He crosses his arms like a child, making you giggle. “Sorry.”

“No need to apologize it was hot.” You say adjusting yourself closer to him, you could actually feel the heat from his body rise as you kept speaking, “It’s fine. Degrading isn’t something I’d need from you anyway.”

“I don’t get that kink, who the hell likes to be disrespected by someone they…are y’know with.”

You shrug, you understand why certain people have kinks, but it’s hard to put in words for someone like Katsuki. He’s a very simple man when it comes to relationships. Almost traditional and old fashion which is what charmed you the most about him. He never even called you a bitch before in any sense nor has he ever told you anything that would genuinely hurt your feelings, “Some people are just into that.” You concluded, your boyfriend looks at you with an unresolved look, but accepts it anyway. Weirdos.

“I wouldn’t hit you either. Like in the face or anything. Only on the ass”

“Good because my face is too pretty for that.” Katsuki smirks at you, you’re absolutely right you’re too pretty for him to hit.

“Nobody else.”

“Hm?”

“…Nobody else is allowed to join us.”

Squinting for a moment his statement clicks , “OH! No threesomes and stuff. Oh yeah of course not. If I see you with any other girl I’ll kill you and her.”

Katsuki swallowed his laughter, masking it with a clearing of his throat, your eyes not tearing from his making sure he knew you were serious. You don’t scare him typically, but he knew the moments when you genuinely had an aura about you that screamed “Fucking try to play with me.” And this was one of those moments. “You look at me like I didn’t just fucking say —“

“I know.” Your voice cracked a little trying to cover up the jealous tone you were about to spew out. Just the thought of Katsuki touching another girl had you upset.

Little did you know it was the same for him with you.

“Anything else?”

“I won’t do race or age play.”

“What the hell…?—-“

“Well I am black so obviously no and then you have age play which is just a cute way of saying you like children—-“

“WHAT?”

You pause to cover up his loud mouth with your small hands, “SSSHH! Before we get in trouble again!…anyway moving on!”

Not wanting to argue, he takes your laptop and smacks your hand away, “What is something you DONT like that your partner does during sex.”

“Take my laptop away from me.”

He strikes you and look, he doesn’t say anything verbally but he says “quit fucking around” with his eyes, admitting defeat that he won’t give you back your laptop you sit back and think for a moment.

“Eh…Oh! I don’t like that you won’t let me ride you.”

Damn it.

He had a feeling you’d say that too. Bakugo scratches the back of his neck roughly while letting out a groan. Throwing his head back a little he side eyes you, “Why do you wanna be on top so bad. I’m the man I should—“

“It’s not even about dominating you or anything you can still fuck me from below, ‘Suki. You’ll still have all the power.”

Bakugo has seen porn videos where the guy fucks up into the girl. Even some where the man is straight up holding the girl up and pumps her full. It’s so erotic he couldn’t even finish the video, but even though he enjoys vanilla sex, he is quite certain riding him isn’t too far off from what he likes.

Besides he loves having your tits bounce in his face and feeling your nipples practically bounce into his mouth makes up of great reason.

“…Fine. But when I’M ready.”

“Yaaaayy mkay….now what is something YOU don’t like about me.”

“You’re ganna be pissed.”

Your smiles immediately transforms into a straighten line, “Uh oh.”

“I don’t …like when you cum too fast.”

It was a bit embarrassing yet confusing to hear. Clearly that means he’s doing a good job so why —

“Because I want to keep fucking you.” Bakugo speaks up as if he read your inner thoughts, all you could do was blink a few times at him, and he continued more, “Even though I don’t cum until after you do which isn’t that long, sometimes I wanna keep going. I’ve timed it, the moment I start fucking you sex only last about 6-8 minutes.”

“That’s average. Some people are 2-3 minutes.” You spoke with an unimpressed and deadpanned voice mostly because this sounded ludicrous to you and Bakugo seen it in your expression causing him to sigh in annoyance. “Shouldn’t your ego be filled knowing you make me cum fast?”

“Yeah, but —-fuck sue me for wanting more. And don’t say some shit like I’m a nympho or some shit because that’s fucking disgusting and those freaks are usually only in a relationship to fuck—-“

“OKAY OKAY CALM DOWN, BOY!” His voice kept getting louder and louder and you refused to have another write up because you have him in your dorm past curfew…again. “I get it though.”

“You want to be overstimulated.”

What? Bakugo scrunched yo his eyebrows. He never heard that term before used when talking about sex.

“Overstimulated means …well… showing you is actually better than telling you.”

In an instant Bakugo’s furrowed eyebrows soften, his gaze transitioned from confused to darker and subtly lustful. You felt the vibe of the room change so quickly you practically had to clear your throat to make him focus again.

“So the next question…”

“Nah, show me.” He firmly shuts your computer and places it on your nightstand. Arms still crossed, “Show me what that word means or should I look up a video and figure it out myself.”

“….y’can.”

It wasn’t ideal for your evening to end like this with him, but it’s just you and your slightly horny boyfriend watching porn videos.

What’s the worse that can happen?

[alnilaem]

a more fleshed-out version from the third prompt of this post of mine.

cw for emotional manipulation, breaking in, stalking, smut, babytrapping, and dubcon to be safe

simon riley/reader

-

Something is wrong. 

Your suitcase is halfway past the threshold of your front door, halfway past your new grave, when you notice the hum of salt and tobacco in the air. Discomfort licks your insides and binds to your skin so heavily that you begin to sweat. A tinny sound peals out as you rearrange your keys between your knuckles, clenching it, and step inside your flat. 

Your heels are at the foot of your shoe rack. Your coat isn’t where it’s supposed to be, crimped in a pool on the floor. Your framed photographs are all inched to the left—you know this because you committed their placement to your memory—because you feared this would happen.

Something is seriously, gravely wrong. 

You feel like you’re lost at sea. Dull-headed and impaired under the alluring melody of a blood-thirsty siren. Walking towards their call, your legs moving before your mind can, spit in the presentiment of fear the same way insects get caught in spiderwebs. Stuck, and about to be eaten.  

You trek further into your flat, following the telltale signs that someone has been here—is here. A general shift in air. The stench of stale herbs and metal. A trail of silt on your hardwood floors, that of which could only be caused by certain mud-clogged boots tracking into your flat.

Here, you pause. On the threshold of your kitchen. Your stomach turns inside out and if it weren’t for your ribs, your heart would have burst out of your chest. 

It’s like you’re walking on glass. Every thin sliver that pokes your skin, invading you, is a splinter of fear. And it also makes it so that you can’t walk away—you’re frozen in place, watching him above your stove, setting a kettle to boil. 

He hears your squeak. Simon turns around, cotton-plated in his civvies, and hums. 

“Welcome home, Love.” 

The moisture leaves your mouth and rushes to your eyes. A film of dew materialises on top of your waterline. It’s thick and pearlescent and clouds your vision, turns Simon into an incorporeal blob in your vision, turning him into a trick of your eyes that you hope will go away after you blink.

He doesn’t.

Instead, Simon rests himself against your kitchen counter. He crosses his tattooed arms over his chest, tilting his head, and bends his lips into an unseemly smile.

“How was your friend’s place?”

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Simon?” You try getting your anger across, but your voice betrays your emotions. It’s heavily distorted by fear, waning, so much so that it makes him blandly chuckle. Like he can smell the terror roiling off of you. Like he feeds from it.

“How did you get in?”

Simon shrugs. “I’ve got a copy of the key.” 

“I changed the damn locks.”

“I got new ones,” he says.

“We broke up.”

“You broke up with me,” Simon snarls. “When I was at my fuckin’ lowest. You broke up with me and I didn’t agree to tha’ shit.”

“Simon–” a gust of disbelief cuts your sentence short. You grip your hair at its roots, tugging it, twisting it, coiling your face in frustration. “Simon, you need to leave.”

“You’re talkin’ like that ‘cause you’re mad at me. Give it a few minutes, and you won’t be.”

“Are you fucking insane!?” You yell. You draw towards him and slam the kettle off the stove. “You broke into my flat!”

“I had a key,” Simon says. He steps towards you, bullying you backwards until the hind of your spine catches on the cold granite of your countertop. Until your back bends over it, Simon, looming over you. “I’ve always told you to use the deadbolt.”

You bite your lip. The blood sticking to the roof of your mouth isn’t as bitter as Simon’s eyes. His are cold, depthless. 

“Fuck off.”

Then, Simon flips. His expression shifts in a whirlwind of seconds. Now, his brunette eyebrows are pursed and his lips are pointed down. His head is ensconced on your neck, his shoulder suddenly laden with an invisible weight as he kittens into you.

“Just came ‘cause I wanted to talk…” he mumbles. “One a’ my men died on me yesterday. Got early R&R for it. Thought you’d be happy to see me...”

You’re motionless as Simon clemently begins kissing your neck. You split your hands on his chest and try shoving him away, but he doesn’t move. He’s as solid as rock. Pushing himself into you, grovelling into your sleek skin. 

A phantom chain is tightening around your throat. You don’t know what to say. You don’t know what you can say. You feel that with any words that poise themselves on your tongue, Simon won’t take kindly to. 

“Simon… I’m sorry for you. I really am,” you slip out from under him and step back. “But this isn’t the way to go about it. We’re adults. And I’m asking you to leave.”

Simon raises his head, lukewarm. He stares at you through his half-lidded eyes, breathing heavily, clenching his fist around the lip of your countertop. Thickly, you swallow. You fidget with your cardigan and hope it will offset the discomfort hanging in the air. Simon takes a deep breath, sucking it all up—the discomfort, the presentiment—and you expect his huffing to precede an explosive reaction, but it doesn’t come. He just slips himself off the island and turns around, quiet when he speaks.

“Yeah,” he hums. “My old man didn’t want anythin’ to do with me, so why should you?” 

Your eyes widen. Though you’ve spent so much time trying to bury it, trying to familiarise yourself with Simon’s sick gambits, a pang of guilt hits you hard.

“Don’t say things like that,” you point an accusing finger to his chest, “it isn’t fair.” 

“No, no,” he grumbles. “Makes sense, does’n’it? My old man walked out on me, so I should handle you walking out on me, too.”

Simon shudders with a long breath. He slaps his face into his hands, and it’s at this point, does your knee-jerk impulse to comfort him take hold of you. The last of your even-tempered brain screams at you—he’s trying to ply you with a humanised side of him, but that side died a long time ago—but you press forward and awkwardly bring him into your arms, patting him on the back. 

“Simon, I’m… sorry, okay?” He buries his head in your neck, nips at your skin. “I’m sorry.”

“Can’t you jus’ yell at me tomorrow?” He asks. Simon slips his hands into the depression of your waist, pulling you against his chest. Against the ever-rising tent of his jeans. 

Your mind protests, but Simon keeps you close. He stinks of sweat, impairing you with it, spinning you around and pushing you against the counter. 

“Simon–”

“Shhh,” he hums, catching his fingers on the hem of your leggings. “Y’said we can talk later. ’m tired, Love. Just need you right now.” 

Any protests rot on your tongue because the wind is knocked out of you as you’re folded over the counter. Simon’s hands travel, gripping every part of you, rekindling old bruises left behind and making space for new ones. 

He ruts into you, cock fattening in his boxers and stressing against his jeans. He slides a hand over the divots of your spine and bends it around your neck, hoisting your head back, huffing into your ear. 

“You’ve no idea how much I missed y’Love,” Simon’s humping you now. Rutting himself against your ass with unrestrained vigour. He bites the husk of your ear, flattens you against the counter, and sinks a hand below your waistband. He spreads your pussy open like the shell of a fruit, pushing his thick fingers into its flesh, knuckle-deep and kneading you. 

“How’s here?” He grumbles. You whine, and he twists himself deeper. “What about there?” 

Your mind and body wrestle between pushing him away and yielding under his touch. Simon fucks his fingers a little deeper, a little meaner, into you, and chuckles when you squeal. 

He rests his chin on your shoulder, and you see a sliver of bared teeth as his lips hitch up into a gnarled smile. “Ah, so that’s the spot, innit?”

You’re dew-skinned and fuzzy when Simon throws you over his shoulder, carrying you to your bedroom. Your tongue is heavy and numb and bootless against any objections as he throws you on the mattress, standing balefully at the foot of the bed. 

If you were a child, you’d hide under your sheets until he disappeared. But you’re not a child, and Simon doesn’t disappear. He sinks his knees into your bed and swipes his shirt off over his head, unbuckling his belt in one slick motion. 

He unzips his jeans and doesn’t even pull his balls out, just cups the gauze of his boxers beneath it and leans onto his hands.

A pearlescent bead of precum slips down the slit of Simon’s dick and drools onto your comforter. He wraps his hand around it, slips his palm up and down, tugging down your pants.

Your legs kick into a paltry complaint, but Simon pins your legs down. 

“No reason in fighting,” he says, rubbing his cockhead against your clit, “You’re so wet, Love.”

Simon nudges your panties to the side and thumbs your clit. Leans in for a biting kiss and swallows your moans, slapping his fat cock against your puffy, wet cunt. 

“Missed me just as bad, eh?” He huffs, setting his dick against your winking hole, pushing past your first ring of muscle and rolling at the sticky sound of your cunt spreading open.

“Simon–” you hic, latching onto his forearms. Trying to offset his bruising grip on your hips as he falls into a steady, deep rhythm. “At least wear a condom.”

He’s so thick, so heavy between your legs. Hoisting you onto his thighs and leaning over you, snapping his cock into you. He screws his face tight, pellets of sweat running down his marred collarbone. Congealing into the spindly, blonde threads of hair on his chest. Down to the wire of steel wool that thickens on his pelvis, pinching your clit each time he slams into you.

“You’re stayin’ with me, Pup,” he pants, kissing a stripe up your neck, suckling on your pebbled nipple. “Gonna gimme a litter, ain’t you? Just like we talked about?”

A little, lone tear slips down your hot cheek. Simon leans in and licks it off. He stuffs himself to the hilt, shuddering with abrupt pleasure as he skips to his feet and folds you in half, pounding into you, biting down on your shoulder.

It hits you like whiplash when Simon pushes himself so deep that you feel him swelling under your skin. He gives you no warning before emptying his balls inside you, flooding you with a white-hot come, clutching your jaw into a wet, messy kiss.

You’re blinded and eclipsed by pain as your orgasm shoots through you. The pleasure is numbing and makes you quiver, tremble, until you’re gushing around Simon’s cock and swivelling your hips to get away.

You’re shaking when he pulls back, giving your pussy no time to soften. Simon gives it a swat and flays himself off of you, heading to the bathroom. You hear the cellophane of your birth control peeling open, and the successive thunk as Simon tosses it into the bin. 

You try getting up but Simon flattens you back as he crawls in bed next to you. There’s a hand of his on your waist, seemingly benign, but tightens itself each time you try slipping away. Your sniffles are piercing and Simon pulls you close. Brushes your tears away, kisses your eyelids. 

“You’re not gonna leave me now, eh? You can’t,” he whispers, “you’re all I’ve got. You and our baby. You can’t leave me now.”

A pitiful cry escapes you. Simon takes that as agreement.

[explicit-tae]

ik it would be very out of character but i’d LOVE to see ungodly hour’s jk react to oc admitting she likes (or loves 🫣) him!! knowing him he’d cry

thank you for your amazing work !!!! ly<3

honestly let me just write about it

Ungodly Hour

Word Count: 3.413

Warning: dirty talking, oral sex (f), alcohol intake, intoxicated/unprotected sex, fingering, creampie, overstimulation, riding, love confessions,

“Okay,” Jungkook enters the living room hastily as you arrive, a gift bag in your hand. “I finally finished it.”

“You know you didn’t have to make me wait until you were done.” you tell Jungkook as you sit on the couch. “I’ve had the gift for weeks now.”

“We couldn’t exchange gifts until mine was complete.” Jungkook says.

Jungkook had insisted on waiting to exchange gifts. You knew he was making you something - he kept it hidden in an extra bedroom that he locked to assure you didn’t peek. He also refused to look at whatever gift you got him and prompted that you take it out the house so he himself would be tempted. 

“Well,” you hold out the gift bag - it’s medium sized and a sparkly blue. “Merry Christmas.”

Jungkook notes that you’re nervous as he takes the bag and he isn’t sure why. He would be happy with whatever you gave him - even if he was surprised initially that you told him you got him a gift. He would often think about what it was.

Jungkook opens the gift bag and takes out the rectangular box. He sees the bottom first - it’s a solid yellow color. He flips it around to inspect it, the rest of the sides being black. His eyes capture the name on the top of the box. His eyes widened. 

“Y/N…?”

Now Jungkook understands why you’re nervous. His eyes flicker to you in disbelief. “This camera is expensive!” he gasps. “How did you know-”

“I saw it on your wishlist.” you say, licking your lips. “When you let me borrow your laptop, you left a few tabs open.”

You weren’t going to admit that you were snooping for answers. Jungkook seemingly had everything there was to get and buying a gift for him was becoming difficult. 

Jungkook opens the box gently, his eyes softening at the camera. “You must’ve spent a lot on it…” he says, trailing off. He knows the exact price and knowing that you spent thousands on a gift for him pulls at his heart strings. “Thank you.”

You give Jungkook a smile. “I can finally quit my job now that I’ve spent a few checks on a gift.” you say, joking with Jungkook to lighten the mood. 

“You can!” Jungkook smiles back with a nod.

“Just kidding.” you sing-song. “Don’t be so gullible.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes and snorts. He places the camera beside him. “Always teasing me with a good time.” he murmurs. “Now for yours.”

Jungkook had wrapped the canvas neatly. It’s a decent size, you noticed, maybe 11 inches all around. Your heart is beating with anticipation as you unwrap it.

Jungkook awaits your reaction, his own nerves hiking. “Do you…like it?” he murmurs. You haven’t said anything and instead have been analyzing the painting silently, expression unreadable.

The painting is full of life, emotion. The scenery is what you initially noted, a mountain of flowers that seemingly went on for miles by the way Jungkook had painted it. The flowers are colorful, different shades of yellow, orange and pink. The sky holds bright gray clouds, covering the sun that appears to be setting. What captures your attention fully are the hands. Both pairs of hands are connected by the pinky with one wrist sporting a gold watch and the other a bracelet while the arms are painted to appear out of the canvas frame.

“This is us.” you say aloud, glancing up at Jungkook. It was a picture you and he had taken a few weeks back. You recall telling Jungkook that it was one of your favorite pictures of the two of you together that didn’t showcase faces. 

Jungkook nods. “It is.” he agrees. “You said it was your favorite picture so I painted it.”

Your throat tightens at his words.

Fuck Jeon Jungkook, you think, because this was entirely too much for you to handle. Your mother didn’t raise a weak woman who felt like she was seconds away from crying tears because of how happy she felt.

You blame it on your period that must be nearing - even if you never cry on your period. 

“Thank you.” you murmur to Jungkook, glancing away shyly to avoid his gaze. “I love it.” you say sincerely, and the admission causes Jungkook to smile.

“You’re d-drunk.” Jungkook snorted before full on laughing as you stumbled through his bedroom door.

“Fuck you.” you retort, plopping yourself down onto Jungkook’s large bed. “So are you.” you slur back.

Jungkook doesn’t deny it.

This is what happens when you drink with friends - more importantly, Jimin. It was nothing new, Jimin always insisted on going into the new year buzzed - this time, they all just went a little overboard. Luckily, Jungkook had agreed for the party to be at his apartment so he could just walk down the hall to his bedroom.

Of course, Jungkook would soon come to regret it because that meant that he would have to clean the mess they made in the morning - but you were with him, so that was a plus.

“Not as drunk as you.” Jungkook closes the door behind him, along with the loud music and laughter of everyone just down the hall in his living room. “Told you to not challenge Jimin.”

“Fuck Jimin…” you murmur to yourself, more so because Jungkook was right.

However, you wouldn’t say you challenged Jimin - he was the one who came to you with a whole cup of alcohol declaring that you were, in his words, too much of a coward to drink.

It was a complete set up, Jungkook knows this, but the only thing he could do was assure you had water and a lot of greasy food ready for when you were going to need it - and luckily he was there to do so. You’re sure you would’ve been passed out long ago.

Jungkook squints his eyes at you, an attempt to get a look at your lying figure. You and he had matched tonight - an idea that was yours. You wore a long sleeved-black dress with a deep v cut that stopped mid thigh while he wore a compressed black shirt (by your request ) and ripped jeans. 

“Do you need to throw up?” Jungkook asks, stumbling  closer to you when he hears a low moan-like whine. “I told you not to drink so-“

“Shut up,” you sit up and look directly at Jungkook. “Can I sit on your face?” 

Jungkook stops in his tracks, his doe eyes widening slightly. Yes is what he wants to say - he loves the act of pleasuring you. However, he’s unsure if he should be doing anything with you in your intoxicated state. 

“You’re drunk-“

“We’re drunk.” you correct, eyes narrowing at him - and also focusing on him all of the same because the room was still spinning. 

“True.” Jungkook murmurs to himself, trailing off. “Still, I don’t want to take advantage-“

“Save the theatrics, Kookie.” you’re already tugging your underwear off, the lacy material falling right by his bed. “Unless you…”

You don’t finish your sentence and Jungkook titls hisnhead. “What?”

“…unless you suddenly don’t like me anymore.” you whisper, and slowly, your eyes widen as if you had figured out the biggest secret. No other world conspiracy was important - not the Bermuda triangle, not whoever the fuck Jack the Ripper is or whether if Atlantis was ever real. No, not even your favorite cold cases could be as important as this new revelation of Jeon Jungkook not liking you anymore. 

“Now you’re extremely drunk .” Jungkook cackles. “Of course I like you!”

It brings Jungkookk back to when you were convincing him that you liked him, now it was the other way around. His heart swells with your drunken ramblings and overall cute appearance. 

“You don’t.” You cross your arms over your chest. “You refuse to have me sit on your face.” you say, and Jungkook realizes that he truly spoils you like everyone claims he does - you never got told no to mainly anything. 

“So who gets to sit on your face?” you ask with narrow eyes. “I bet-“

“Don’t say that girl's name.” Jungkook cuts you off before you can get started. “You know you’re my girl, Y/N.”

“So you hate me.” you deadpan, saying the words matter-of -factly. “All of a sudden you aren’t obsessed-“

“I am!” Jungkook interrupts, raising his voice. He couldn’t believe that this was a conversation that needed to be had and if he remembered this sober, it’s something he was definitely going to tease you about. 

“Hm.” you uncross your arms and stand to your feet. “I'm going to go party with Jimin.” 

Jungkook steps in front of you. “You aren’t wearing any underwear.” he states. “That and you’re already had enough to drink-“

“If you aren’t going to fuck me,” you wave your hand in his face to stop his speech. “then I’m going to go out there and drink with Jimin.”

If Jimin knew that he was the person that would be used against him it would cause ultimate chaos in the groupchat and in his friend group. 

Jungkook licks his lips. He doesn’t have time to entertain his and your friends any longer. He can only imagine how it would look if he chased after you because you wanted to be drunk and petty. The room is already spinning for him as it is for you and he knows that it wouldn’t be a good idea. 

“You’re such a bitch…” Jungkook murmurs, tone low. It’s a tone that you’re all too familiar with - and you know that you had Jungkook where you wanted him. “Get on the bed.”

You do as you’re told, laying on Jungkook’s bed and open your legs, dress hiking up entirely. 

Jungkook drops to his knees and hooks his hands beneath your thighs. You yelp when he snatches you closer to him. His lips place themselves onto your inner thigh and he presses a kiss. “I spoil you too much.”

Jungkook kisses closer and closer to your heat and he does so to tease you. “You looked so good tonight.” He couldn’t help but cave, wanting to give you whatever you wanted of him. 

Fingernails dig into your skin as Jungkook speaks against your skin. 

“You did, too.” you hitch your breath when you feel Jungkook's lips directly against your clit. 

Jungkook kisses it gently. “Thank you, baby. So needy.”

Your back arches when you feel it, wet tongue sliding directly up your clit. He dips it between your folds, holding you directly still so he can pleasure you like you desperately wanted him to. 

Eyes flickering up, Jungkook grunts. So beautiful, he always thinks of you. You couldn’t help but grow spoiled because he never told you no for anything. However, it wasn’t something he could help - you don’t ask for much to begin with.

The room continues to spin, but you no longer care. Your body erupts with arousal and it clouds your being entirely. You should’ve never drunk as much as you did, but there was no taking back the past. Besides, you cannot remember being filled with lust when you would drink prior - you’re unsure why you appear so insatiable.

“Feels so good, Kookie.” you moan, hips buckling against the rhythm of his tongue. The top half of the dress constricts your body entirely and you cannot wait until you can get out of it. “So, so good.”

Jungkook's eyes are as dark as can be and he’s positive he is a man starved right now. The alcohol runs through his system and causes his movement to be sloppy, but capable. His tongue completely savors your arousal, suckling on your clit to dipping between your folds and now, plunging it inside of you entirely.

“You must want me to fuck you.” Jungkook disclosed. “Your pussy’s clenching around nothing.”

How correct Jungkook was and you’re far from sober, so there was no snarky remark for you to retort with. You were beyond your regular self - you weren’t going to deny anything because you truly, desperately wanted Jungkook.

Your sober self would surely be screaming at you when your intoxication wore off.

Jungkook would lean back a bit every few minutes, his lips and chin fully coated in you. His tongue would still be flicking against your swollen clit and he’s truly doing this as an act to tease you further. He likes when your breath - that you’d be holding - would release when he gave you a bit of a teasing break, all before he devoured you once more.

“Kookie,” you moan Jungkook’s name so lovingly - it’s hard not to want to be between your legs for hours. His hand is bruising the skin of your thigh to hold you against his tongue. “wanna cum.”

Jungkook’s eyes stare into yours, a silent telepathic moment that tells you that he wasn’t stopping you from cumming. But he is also not a fool when it comes to you or your body and soon, you feel your pussy - so greedy to be stuffed and full - stretched out with his fingers.

Jungkook loves your whimpering and moaning - more so when you don’t hide them from his ears. There’s a party right outside his door where people are all huddling to celebrate the new year, and here the two of you were forgetting about them entirely. 

Jungkook plunges his fingers deep inside of you. He hits the familiar sweet spot he knows so well, your thighs quivering in the process. His tongue licks circles around your clit, fingerings thrusting rhythmically. Your moans bounces off the walls and louder than the muffled music in the background.

Jungkook doesn’t mind when your hands grip his hair tightly because he just knows that you’re going through it - and he has no intention of stopping until you’re cumming on his tongue. It’s close, he notes, the way your walls are clenching around his fingers greedily and your cries grow louder and louder in contrast to the way your fingers grips into his hair.

Jungkook allows you to ride against your own high, laying his tongue flat against your clit and allowing you to grind against his tongue, fingers plunging deep inside of you. Your high comes hard, body twitching and Jungkook allows it all to happen, determined to make sure you are satisfied completely before he stops.

You feel dizzy when your high slowly comes down, your forehead lined with sweat and your body completely flushed. Your body molds itself against Jungkook’s soft sheets, your breathing slowing down.

“Where are you going…?” you ask Jungkook when you no longer feel his presence before you. Your eyes flutter open. 

“Nowhere.” Jungkook responds sincerely. “We should get you out of this dress for bed-”

“Bed?” your senses peak and you jolt upright, eyes narrowed once more. “I want to ride you first.”

Jungkook snorts and stumbles back a bit at your sudden action. “You’ve already came so hard, baby. Are you sure-”

You aren’t listening to Jungkook in the slightest. You’re tugging the dress off of you entirely and getting naked right before his eyes. 

Jungkook is but a man and there isn’t much convincing he needs - especially not when you’re tugging him towards you needily. You connect your lips to his while pushing him against the bed. Jungkook loves how needy you are - how much you express that you want him. Of course, he knows that you do any other time - but this time it’s different; getting to witness just how much you want him is a feeling he never knew he craved.

Your fingernails dig into Jungkook’s clothed shoulders as you slowly feel him inside of you. You push him backwards so that he’s laying on the bed, your hips rising and falling.

“Fuck,” Jungkook groans, hands firmly on your hips. You’re going so fast, fully determined to cum once more - and Jungkook couldn’t be upset. Your face displays just how good you felt in this moment. “your pussy feels so good, baby.”

Your pussy clenches around Jungkook as if responding to his words. By the time the pair of you were done, you were going to be bruised entirely with Jungkook’s hand marks. 

Jungkook finds it hard to look at you - not when you looked so completely fucked out and beautiful. He’s unsure where your stamina appeared - maybe you were just that fucked out and drunk; that you didn’t care that you were overstimulating yourself (and him). 

Jungkook clenches his eyes shut to get the image of you out of his head, but all it does is follow him in his thoughts. Your naked figure using him to pleasure yourself, your bouncing breast to your creaming pussy dripping all over him and making a complete mess.

Jungkook is so hot - so beautiful himself. He’s hissing to himself with clenched eyes, experiencing pure bliss just as you were. His forehead is covered in sweat and a few strands of hair are sticking to it. 

Jungkook feels a hand upon his cheek and his eyes open. They're so dark and full of lust - similar to your own. Your eyes connect to his and Jungkook swallows, adam’s apple bobbing.

“Drunk Y/N is so needy.” Jungkook jokes, voice deep and raspy. “Drunk actions are sober intentions.”

Jungkook begins to thrust upwards, matching your rhythm. His thrusts are brutal, fully determined to satiate your hunger for him. His eyes never leave yours, the pair of you stuck in an intimate, lust-filled moment.

“I-I’m gonna cum again!” you mewl, breaking eye-contact first to shut them tight. The familiar sensation bubbles into you again and Jungkook only fucks into you harder, pounding with all his might; how the both of you could be drunk and full of stamina is beyond him.

Your walls are squeezing around Jungkook and within seconds, your juices squirt around Jungkook entirely, fully coating his abdomen. “I-I-” Your body is twitching, your head pushed back when Jungkook hears your words. “I love you.”

Jungkook is still for a moment, completely silent. He’s contemplating if he heard you correctly and before he can speak, you repeat yourself. “I love you.” it’s low and a bit slurred, but Jungkook hears it entirely.

“You’re drunk.” Jungkook laughs it off, cheeks flushed and heart beating out his chest. He doesn’t want to call you a liar - you wouldn’t have said it if it wasn’t true. However, you’re drunk and maybe you meant to say you loved the way he was fucking you -

“Shut up,” you say, walls tightening on Jungkook’s cock. “I do love you.”

You yelp when you feel your back hit the soft mattress, all without Jungkook removing himself from inside of you. The room continues to spin for you two, but neither of you could bring yourselves to care. 

“You’re going to forget you said that.” Jungkook begins to thrust, holding you close in his embrace. “Gonna deny it until the end of time.”

“I love you.” you repeat and Jungkook’s pounding only increases. Skin slapping echoes off the wall and the two of you are so entranced in the moment that neither of you notice the music dying down outside the room. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too.” Jungkook whimpers with a shake of his head. His thoughts are consumed by your words - the love confession. 

Jungkook could never get tired of hearing it and at this moment, you don’t get tired of saying it. You repeat it over and over again as Jungkook continues to fuck inside of you. You’re creaming his cock, a white ring forming around the shaft and Jungkook couldn’t get enough of you.

I love you.

I love you.

You love him, Jungkook’s thrilled at the revelation. His head drops back as his body tenses up, his thrust becoming sloppy. “Say it again, baby.” he pleads with a choked whimper. He needed to hear you say it again, as selfish as it was - he’s unsure how long it’d be before he could hear it again.

“Fuck,” your pussy is seeping with arousal and staining his sheets, your clit swollen and pulsing. “I love you, Kookie.”“Oh, shit…I love you, too, baby.” Jungkook continues to stretch your pussy completely until he’s shooting hot cum directly inside of you, a hand directly on your stomach as he does so. He’s panting, the both of you covered in sweat and bodily fluids.

[dredgesnails]

i don’t think jimmy’s broken his canary curse. i think it’s just been evolving, slowly, and he’s figuring out how to work with it instead of trying to fight it. hear me out:

3rd life - flower husbands. jimmy dies first. scott is 10th out in the series, the only time he places outside of the top 5

last life - the southlanders. jimmy is first out. mumbo is out next in quick succession. impulse dies shortly after. the only southlanders to make it into the top 10 are grian, who killed jimmy and mumbo (and still only ranks 7) and martyn, who left the southlanders for the shadow alliance

double life - ranchers. jimmy dies first, and takes tango out with him. tango is the one responsible for their first death, though

limited life - bad boys. joel wants to sacrifice himself for jimmy, but jimmy dies first before he can. joel still dies shortly after, and grian becomes a nosy neighbour, surviving to 6th

secret life - big dogs. jimmy dies second, but lizzie might be falling forever in the end so maybe he does die first. martyn is the first to yellow and red, and he dies 11th. the worst he’s ever placed. (also, mumbo dies only moments after jimmy again*)

real life - (do they have a name??). jimmy and ren’s groups get into a fight in the mines. jimmy is the only one who makes it out without dying at all. his allies are out of the series.

the canary curse isn’t about jimmy dying first. or at least, it isn’t really anymore. at first he was used to signify it, the canary dying first to warn everyone of danger ahead. but the canary has learned how to escape the coalmine now, and his friends are still stuck inside. they might survive if they have friends on the surface or they’re willing to betray their allies, but if it’s just been them and their canary to warn them of danger? then they’ve doomed themselves.

*mumbo might also have his own unique “killed ten seconds after jimmy by the same person/thing” curse, which is different from the general jimmy “bad luck charm” solidarity curse

[riordanness]

slow motion, double vision - [w.scobell]

wordcount: 0.8K

warnings: self harm (reader)

requested: yes!

a/n: please do not read this if you struggle with self harm and won’t feel comfortable reading about it (it’s not described at all and reader doesn’t do it in this but it’s said that she has and a brief description of her wrist is also in this. don’t read this if you aren’t going to cope with that. and if you are struggling w self harm, reach out to me, please!! <3)

Another day on the Percy Jackson set. Today, we are filming a scene between Percy and Annabeth, an argument.

Walker gives me a grin once he’s finished up with the makeup crew. “Hey, you,” he says with an easy smile.

I try to replicate it. Walker has this gift. He’s so good at it. At everything. Life, acting, smiling.

All the things I struggle with.

“Hey,” I say back. “Looking good.”

“Says you.” He gives me an appreciative look. “My girlfriend looks adorable.”

I immediately get flustered. No matter how many days I’m dating Walker for, I think him calling me his girlfriend will always make me flutter inside.

“I'm not your girlfriend anymore,” I joke. “I’m Annabeth Chase, Seaweed Brain.”

He grins. “See you out there.”

As soon as he’s gone, my heart sinks again. It’s like he’s the only thing in the world that brings any kind of light to my darkness. The only smile on my sad face. The only sweet words I can say.

“The chair is the bargain,” Walker, as Percy, says. “One of us goes in, the other gets the shield.”

“I’ll do it,” I say, stepping forward, a determined look on my face.

“What? What a minute!” Walker reaches over and grabs my wrist. A flicker of pain crosses my features, but quick as lighting, I go back into character, hoping he didn’t notice.

“Whoever goes in isn’t coming out!” I say, my voice rising a little at the end.

“I know, that’s why I said wait.”

“This isn’t the arch, Seaweed Brain,” I snap in response.

“Cut!” someone yells, and I instantly break character, as does Walker.

The directing team is talking amongst themselves, which is usually a sign for us to just chat and wait for them to be ready to film again.

“Hey,” Walker comes close to me, his voice quiet. “Are you okay?”

I look at him, feigning a frown. “Course I’m okay. Why?”

He looks concerned, his blue eyes staring deep into mine. “You flinched just now. When I grabbed you.”

“Oh,” I laugh, which comes out so brittle I almost wince. “Nah, it’s all good. Just acting.” I’m brushing him off, and he knows that.

“I’m gonna grab a drink,” I tell him, and disappear before he can argue with me about it.

He finds me in the bathrooms. I’m standing over a sink, gripping the sides like a dramatic Draco Malfoy-wannabe. I have tears in my eyes, but the second I hear someone behind me, I brush them away.

“Y/n?” Walker asks quietly. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

I can’t answer, his sweet words just making me want to cry harder. I can only shake my head.

He buries me in a hug, his chin on top of my head, and his arms encircling me tightly. “Love,” he says again, speaking softly into my hair, “tell me what’s wrong.”

“Walker, I—“ I cannot bring myself to say the words, so I pull back from the hug, and pull up the sleeve of my Annabeth jacket. Across the inside of my left wrist are stripes of harsh red, jagged and fresh.

Walker’s eyes shatter, a million emotions and words and thoughts all inside their clear blue at once. His mouth opens a little.

“Y/n—“

“I’m sorry,” I blurt. “I’m so so sorry.”

He immediately folds me back into his arms. “You have no reason to be sorry,” he says roughly. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry you feel this awful about yourself. I’m so sorry you felt like you had no other choice. But please—“ I can tell by his voice that he’s upset. Somehow, that makes me feel even worse.

“Please come talk to me before you do something like that,” he whispers.

“Okay,” I manage.

“Do you promise?” he asks, his voice ragged.

“I promise on the River Styx.”

I feel his smile through my hair. “I love you.”

I smile too, his warmth and love spreading through me like an antidote. “I love you too, Walk.”

He pulls away from the hug, his fingertips brushing the broken skin of my wrist as lightly as he can. “Come on,” he says. “Let’s get this cleaned and dressed properly, okay?”

I let him take me by the hand, and for the first time in my life, I feel completely and totally safe and understood.

With him.

[tojiscrack]

𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇 𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐋: 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑

summary: 13.6k words — you and your friends have returned from a vacation trip in italy! but it’s now time to go back to school and kick start your junior year of high school, but straight off the bat, megumi finds himself immersed in gossip he's usually never bothered by…

notes: welcome to the first ever main-plot-starting chapter of liar, liar! *cheers in the background* FINALLY! we’re here. isn’t it ironic how this time last year i was writing the first ever chapter of liar, liar, and now an entire year later, i’m kick starting the main plot? 😧 time flies… here's my halloween gift to you all! (it's easily my most favourite holiday EVER). and it's also been a week since my birthday, ty for the wishes, kind messages, dm's, asks, tips, etc!! now enjoy this chapter <3

tw: swearing, gossip, mention of violence, threats, and that’s it lmao

i do not own any of the characters of jjk, i only own the character of y/n and her mother. the other characters belong to gege akutami.

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.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

september 2019 - junior year

"everyone open theirs at the same time, got it?"

"but mine's got tape on it!"

"shut up, yuji."

"i already opened mine."

you dived across the table to snatch the paper out of megumi's hands, throwing him a look of irritation because of how he'd spoiled the entire thing. it only irked you further when he had the audacity to fix you with a glare himself.

"you just couldn't help yourself, could you?" you snapped, placing his timetable face down on the table, refraining from looking at it before he could despite the devil on your left shoulder whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

you gave in and flipped the sheet over. he ruined the order of things anyway, what was the point of adhering to the rules he never listened to to begin with?

"megumi!" you gasped, feeling enraged as you stared down at his timetable.

out of the nine classes you had, pre-calculus was the only one you shared with megumi. to your disbelief, you didn't even share homeroom, so the only other chances to see him were during study hall, break, and lunch, which felt far too short to make up for the overwhelming imbalance.

it didn't make sense, now that you analysed it further. with all the classes available, how was it that pre-calc was the only one you had in common? you felt a nagging frustration, trying to wrap your head around the fact that your paths would now cross so little this year despite the fact that you used to be attached to the hip before. every other subject offered countless opportunities to stick together, yet here you were, navigating a maze of schedules that kept you apart.

you caught yuji and nobara in your peripheral vision, both comparing their own timetables and bickering simultaneously.

megumi was a genius, extremely academically gifted, especially in stem. when it came to any branch of math, the kid aced every exam effortlessly.

and you weren't the worst at it, some would argue..?

the more you thought about it, the more bewildered you became — how could you end up sharing the one class that exposed all your weaknesses, the same one that he excelled in?

he flinched when your voice suddenly rose once more:

"you're taking ap stats?" you demanded, only just realising that he had one extra lesson than you, yuji, and nobara. it was at the very top of the table, labelled 'period 0'.

"don't give him an opportunity to act more pompous than he already is," scoffed nobara, looking uninterested. you did not comment on how she still peeked over the sheet when she thought you weren't looking.

"wow," yuji began, looking pleasantly in awe at megumi's hefty schedule. he leaned back in his seat, careful not to pull himself too far back in the event that he might fall off. you secretly wished that he would, if only to stifle your current shock. "so you'll start the day earlier... won't you be exhausted when we get to football practice?"

that was a good question. since coach yaga had stubbornly given both megumi and yuji spots on the school's football team, it had since been announced that practice would take place every day after school unless otherwise mentioned. with megumi's mornings starting earlier than the rest of you, and his days finishing later, he was bound to be torn down with exhaustion. although he acted like a robot all the time (eat, sleep, make a rude comment about you, repeat) he was still a human who needed rest. more school meant more social interaction. more social interaction meant a drained megumi. things would only go south from there.

he shrugged at the question.

"i'll be fine," he answered, unbothered.

you disagreed. "you'll die —"

"— revive me with your mermaid abilities then —"

you hoped you pinched him hard enough to bruise.

"wait," you said, halting your attack on him with a slow frown. he took the opportunity to rip your hands off his ribs and shuffled away from you. you ignored him, sliding down to sit hip-to-hip with him. "if you do ap stats in the morning, we can't walk to school together."

for the nth time that day, megumi snatched back his timetable from you.

"good luck," he said, eyes half-lidded with that ever-present air of indifference. "you cross the road like you have nine lives."

"you basically just told her that you wouldn't care if she died," yuji intervened, quick to jump to your defence despite the many times you would argue with him, too.

you glanced at him, eyes naturally drifting down to the obvious tan line on his neck from the vacation the four of you had attended with your family in the summer.

nobara scoffed, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear before pointing, accusatory, at megumi. "this is what happens when you hype him up," said nobara, her finger jabbed at him with enough aggression, any outsider would probably assume that he'd committed blasphemy — you liked to think he had.

"i'm surrounded by idiots," you thought you heard him mutter, his voice low enough to almost go unheard, though the faint tightening of his jaw gave him away.

waving his timetable at him, you unknowingly creased the smooth sheet. "speak up, porcupine."

"do you hate it when he mumbles, mother gothel?" said yuji, randomly turning on you instead.

your head might have had a fifty-fifty chance of snapping right off your neck with how fast you'd turned it to face yuji with a glare. of all the things he could have thrown at you, why did he pick a tangled reference, one that barely bit at your core?

"first of all, what the hell?" you responded, visibly and audibly startled. "secondly, you were supposed to be on my side —"

"yeah i know," he replied, breaking out of his character to speak to you in that usual, gentle and low voice of his, the one you were much familiar with, "but i just remembered that megumi might leave me behind after football practice, so i can't take any chances."

"you're a traitor!"

"it's every man for himself!"

to no one's surprise (except for yuji's), nobara, seizing the moment you had created, sent his head crashing forwards against the table. she'd apparently been waiting for the perfect opportunity for it, and you had handed it to her on a silver platter.

"y/n, swap," she said, sliding her timetable down and waiting for you to make the exchange, barely registering the groan of pain and annoyance yuji had followed her demand with.

you shrugged and complied, exchanging yours for hers with pursed lips.

as you scanned nobara's timetable, you found yourself pouting less, pleased. half of your classes aligned perfectly with hers, from pre-calc to english — even p.e and homeroom, matched. the thought of surviving junior year alongside nobara was a hopeful silver lining. leaving megumi behind wouldn't be too bad, you noted in your had, glancing at his unnecessary scowl.

maybe this was done for a reason. if you spent too much time with him, the grumpy attitude would probably become contagious and you'd be the unfortunate one to catch it.

you watched him glare at nothing.

yeah, you definitely didn't want to become that.

"but we all have gojo at some point, right?" said nobara, her voice drawing your mind away from the undiagnosed disease your mind had planted megumi with.

you lined each of your timetables at the centre of the white, circular table, flicking yuji's head away to create more room for it. he lifted himself back up, scowling when you flicked at his hands next.

"we're all in different classes with him," you commented idly, tilting yuji's timetable a little further to read it more accurately.

"oh, you and i have physics with him together," you informed him, content and satisfied.

"hmph," yuji grunted, rubbing his forehead and throwing dirty looks at nobara from the side. despite this, however, you could see the way his ears had straightened up at your comment, also seemingly pleased with the shared class — it reminded you off the ash-blonde puppy you had seen last year, when you were looking for totalityfor megumi's birthday.

"i wanted ieiri," said megumi, taking his timetable back and glancing down at it, then to yuji's, and back again, seemingly making a comparison in his head.

"we all have her for chem," said nobara, leaning the upper half of her body over the table to glance over his sheet. "don't you?"

"yeah," he confirmed, sounding displeased. "and satoru for every other science. ap bio first period — no one needs to hear his voice that early in the morning."

yuji beamed, taking his paper away from the line of your timetables you'd created with it and shoving it down towards megumi's side of the table.

"don't worry megumi!" he'd said, his pearly white teeth showcased as he grinned. "we have ap biology together!"

megumi's eyes slowly shifted from yuji's overly enthusiastic face to his timetable, and then back again, completely unamused. his expression didn't change, and no words were exchanged as he remained deadpanned, yuji patiently awaiting his response; the excited sparkle in his eye dimming as each second went by in silence.

megumi blinked twice, offering a dry, "great. just what i needed."

yuji took that personally.

"hey —"

"gojo might be incredibly annoying," said nobara, cutting through yuji without a care in the world; she was frowning down at her own timetable, brows furrowed, "but i've never failed a class of his. ever." she looked up at you all with a grim expression over her face. "don't tell him i said that."

"you've got a point," you added thoughtfully. "you think he pulled a couple strings to have us in his classes this year?"

"oh for sure," said nobara, her response quick and short. "we have — what — over twenty different science teachers in the whole school and somehow every year without fail we're in his classes? tell me that's a coincidence."

as your friends discussed the things that satoru must have done in order to have each and every one of you in his classes this year, you stared down at your timetable, eyes glued down as something suddenly hit you in your mind.

you were now going to be lonely in performing arts due to the fact that nobara had switched majors. her electives were now filled with fashion design courses, her dream ever since the end of sophomore year, and you were glad she had finally come to pick something she found genuine joy in, but it still stung a little.

you sighed, almost feeling silly for missing something so trivial, but the thought of no longer having those shared moments with her in drama class left a hollow ache. it wasn't as if she hadn't told you this would happen during your vacation in the summer, yet the reality was harder to digest than you had initially anticipated.

"fashion design," you stated, as yuji and megumi found themselves immersed in a pointless argument about satoru and his questionable teaching methods. "i think mai was saying something about that the other day."

"yeah," said nobara, her voice suddenly gloomy as she deflated in her seat, eyes half-lidded and lips in a pout. "there's a workshop in the first class. the seniors are helping us."

a small, amused smirk tugged at the corner of your lips as she sulked in her seat. her exaggerated pout and half-lidded eyes made it impossible not to find the whole situation a bit funny. you rested your chin on your hand, observing the way she dragged her finger absentmindedly across the table's surface, a clear sign of how unenthusiastic she was about the whole thing.

nobara's disdain for her was no secret — mai, with her sharp tongue and competitive attitude, grated on nobara's nerves like nails on a chalkboard. they'd crossed paths during seventh grade, and from that point on, nobara had made it clear she had no interest in mai's condescending remarks or constant need to outshine everyone, especially in the fashion design world. it didn't help that they were often compared to each other when shopping, fuelling the unspoken rivalry between them.

"y'know, she's not that bad," you commented thoughtfully. you had also grown to like mai a bit better throughout the years.

megumi thought it was appropriate to intervene and add his own unwanted input (during the middle of his stupid back and forth with yuji, too).

"you're only saying that 'cause she's your blackmail partner," he'd said, furrowing his brows at you with a look of obvious impatience.

you did not even turn your head to face him when you responded.

"it's not blackmail," you countered slowly, as nobara raised her brows at you expectantly. "it's... making someone do something... by using... pieces of information... as... leverage!"

"that's literally the definition of blackmail —"

"shut up," you smiled politely.

"megumi!" yuji interrupted, shoving his phone in megumi's face with such enthusiasm, you would have thought he just found out that he was the chosen one at camp rock. "look!" he shook his phone aggressively. "brazil likes tan lines! no you have to look, megumi! it says they associate it with beach culture!"

megumi grimaced at the screen, his nostrils flaring as he slapped yuji's hand away.

"yeah, 'cause nothing says 'beach culture' like looking like a poorly toasted sandwich," he retorted, scowling when someone on the other table had shot him a sharp look.

you laughed, met with the sight of yuji in a defensive stance, eyes wide and brows furrowed at the dark haired boy sitting next to you. he was pointing at himself, at the two shades of skin on his neck, his fist clenched which only emphasised the veins running up his hand.

"you keep saying that like i didn't wear sunscreen, but i did!" he snapped, drawing the attention of the people passing by your table. megumi pinched the bridge of his nose as yuji went on, uncaring of the fact that almost every eye in the cafeteria was drawn to the four of you, courtesy of yuji and his unnecessarily loud speech. "i wore the kids one, but it's still sunscreen!"

"what brand?" asked nobara.

"nivea!"

"didn't they run tests for that one and find that it's actually a leading cause for skin cancer in its consumers?" you said, watching his face comically pale as he glanced down at his own hands, a lot darker than what they used to be like before the trip to italy.

yuji's brows knitted together, and the corner of his mouth twitched as if struggling to maintain composure, but the fear creeping into his wide eyes betrayed him. you could see the panic in the way he darted glances between his hands, his arms, and even under the table where his legs were, as though expecting to see something awful already happening.

nobara had taken the opportunity to scare him a little further, making up random statistics about non-existent kids who had reached critical condition due to the sheer amount of the product they'd used, and as she continued, his expression grew more strained, the color slowly draining from his cheeks, leaving him looking almost as pale as the white cast left behind the sunscreen he'd used.

your phone vibrated on the table, the screen lighting up with a text notification. you pressed the button to read it properly.

coffee-hose victim: Check if final pay-check was received

mandy.

you'd check later. you were in no rush, you decided, as you stared at the message briefly, feeling a dull sense of finality wash over you.

both you and megumi had been made redundant after the café shut down over the summer — an abrupt closure that neither of you had seen coming. mandy, your old manager, had been sorting out the final payments for the staff, promising to get things wrapped up even after the little shop was cleared out. now that everything was nearly done, you'd finally be able to delete her number from your phone, erasing the last trace of that chaotic job, of her.

but it also meant finding new jobs, and you refused to work without megumi by your side.

"we need to apply for jobs this week," you told him, showing him your home-screen that had mandy's notification banner at the very top. his eyes followed each word smoothly before looking back up to meet your gaze. "probably not hospitality ever again."

"i'd work at miss B's if she ever let us," said megumi, as you placed your phone back down and silently nodded in agreement. "i like her."

"mind saying that again?" you grinned, lifting it back up and having it hover near his mouth that had been set in a straight line the second he saw your lip curl. "i want to make it my ringtone."

"shut up," he snapped, slapping your wrist away quite like he had done with yuji not even five minutes ago. you laughed but complied anyway. having megumi's voice as a ringtone would make it so that you would never actually pick up the calls. he frowned at you. "come over to mine and we'll apply then."

you threw him a sideways look. "no, you come over to mine."

he furrowed his brows at you.

"what difference does it make?" he asked, his eyes critiquing your every move. nothing out of the ordinary.

you sighed loudly; someone might have assumed you were in the middle of a chore.

"if i see toji, i'm going to be tempted to make fun of him. i'll get distracted," you explained, shaking your head at your friend as though it had been the most easiest thing, and he had failed to understand. "top of the class and yet you're not the exactly the brightest crayon in the box, are you?"

"shut up," he repeated for the second time in the very same minute.

nobara turned her head slowly, deliberately, her sharp eyes narrowing as they landed on megumi. there was a brief, almost theatrical pause before her lips curled slightly at the corners, (the way they did when she was about to say something cutting) as the dim light of the cafeteria above you all caught the sharp angle of her cheekbones.

"megumi, i can not argue with idiot number one," she began, lifting her chin to gesture at a pale yuji, "when you, idiot number two, keep telling someone to shut up. how about you shut up for a change, huh?"

megumi narrowed his eyes at her. "i'm the only one out of the four of us that only speaks when spoken to."

she gawked at him. "you calling us chatterboxes?"

"i'm saying that when either of your mouths open, the stuff that comes out of it is never relevant nor necessary."

the three of you sat in silence, each watching him with different expressions on your faces.

and megumi felt the need to clarify:

"none of your statements are of any substance —"

"we get it!" snapped nobara, her gaze cutting and sharp. she took enough care to kick him beneath the table, which only began the onslaught of physical attacks, one you joined in for the sole purpose of bullying megumi. you thought he deserved it this time.

as the assault continued, something clicked, and you pulled back from the friendly fire. watching megumi's face — strained and faintly exasperated — you remembered something nobara had mentioned weeks ago about the family's international dojo business, which was the zenin's main source of income and how they were so incredibly rich.

it was easy to forget sometimes; the quiet, slightly reserved megumi you knew now didn't quite fit the image of someone being groomed to run an international dojo and martial arts empire, but as he braced himself for nobara's next jab, you couldn't shake the thought: he was taking business classes, which only further supported your idea, and for a moment, you considered the irony of seeing him here, bickering with you all instead of learning the ropes of the large business awaiting him.

"hey," you said, tapping his shoulder and flinching when he turned to look down at you so suddenly.

"what?" he snapped, but only after swiping nobara's timetable off the table and onto the floor when she kicked him on his funny-bone. he was blinking hard at you, as though trying to clear his vision of the black spots contaminating his sight.

"oh excuse me for wanting to help mr dominant-alpha-wolf out," you shot back, hands raised mockingly. when he scowled at you and patiently (yet reluctantly) waited for you to continue, you went on. "talking about applying for jobs, why don't you just get some business experience at ten shadows?"

the zenin clan's dojo, ten shadows, specialised in jujutsu — a tradition they shared with the gojo's and, of course, the kamo clan too. it was where uncle ogi spent most of his time in, and where toji spent none of his time in.

megumi didn't seem to like that idea, regarding you with furrowed brows and a scrunched nose.

"so i can spend all day with uncle ogi?" he retorted, and despite your initial idea still standing tall in your mind, you had to silently admit to yourself that he raised a good point. uncle ogi was funny when he was angry (which tended to be ninety-nine percent of the time) but you could only take so much of that in one day. knowing him, he'd probably force you to work nightshifts with no breaks. "no thanks," megumi voiced, unimpressed with the suggestion.

"why don't you just lie on your application forms and stuff?" yuji suggested, his mouth in a straight line. it seemed that he had not got over the sunscreen scare just yet. "i did."

"you lied about working at ten shadows?" you asked, brows raised and eyes wide. "that's an international dojo. they go world-wide. global. your employers will find out."

yuji shook his head, raising his hand to wave it at you dismissively. "no, not there," he scoffed, smiling widely. "what do you think i am, huh? stupid?"

no one said anything; he sat up defensively.

"hey —"

"so what place did you lie about then?" nobara cut through him, literally pulling him out of his stance by his elbow.

he shrugged her off with a scowl, but answered nonetheless.

"gojo said i could say i worked at his family's pharmacy."

everyone around the table went still, eyes widening as they processed what yuji had just casually revealed. megumi blinked, caught off guard, while you tilted your head, brows raised at his unexpected response. it was only nobara, however, who looked thoroughly impressed, her lips curling as she nudged him with a newfound admiration and yuji, oblivious to the stir he'd just caused, seemed to enjoy the brief, astonished silence hanging over the table.

"it's cool, right?" he voiced loudly, grinning. "he said i should write that i worked at one of his biotechnology firms, but if the interviewer asked me questions about it, i'd never know how to answer 'em."

megumi shot him a look.

"what do you know about pharmacies?" he demanded, watching yuji shrug confidently.

"you gotta answer some calls, make requests. er... stock up on the medicine and stuff," he mumbled, rubbing his chin thoughtfully and nodding. it looked like he was actually thinking hard about it. "deal with old ladies... and old men... er... yeah!"

"i'm putting that on my application too, then," said nobara, nodding. she made eye contact with a stoic megumi. "and you should too. only, with your family's business."

"no," the dark-haired boy responded, glowering at the three of you. "it's not genuine."

"oh here we go again," you sighed, rolling your eyes.

it had been the same situation two years ago with his easy position on the football team, when yaga offered him a vacant spot without the requirement of turning up to try-outs. megumi truly believed that if the offer was given solely to him, it was disingenuous and unfair, therefore accepting what was rightfully presented would also be disingenuous and unfair.

lying on an application form with security knowing that his family would definitely vouch for him if asked was where he drew the line.

"i'm not the serial liar here," he reminded you all, purposefully meeting your gaze to prove his point; you could have murdered him right there.

"maybe not, but you are the porcupine-hedgehog-sea-urchin breed here though —"

"you'dknow all about sea urchins, mermai—"

he left school that day with a small bump on the side of his head and a lesson still unlearned: do not mention the mermaid incident of two-thousand and eleven.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

the hallway stretched ahead, brightly lit by fluorescent lights overhead that reflected off pale, polished floors. blue lockers lined either side, their surfaces a mix of chipped paint and stickers left from previous years, giving a lived-in look to the corridor's otherwise sterile presentation.

as you and megumi walked past several groups of people — some leaning against lockers, others conversing on the floor — you nudged him on his side.

"where do you usually sit?" you asked him, turning a corner to enter the corridor with the descending stairs. the two of you walked down them with ease, careful not to trip over that one step at the very bottom that always managed to catch your undone laces and have you stack in front of everyone.

megumi lagged a step behind, and before you could question it, you felt a slight tug on your bag, shifting it side to side. as you neared his homeroom, the faint sound of your zipper sliding into place caught your attention — he'd just fastened it for you without a word.

when he came back to your side to match your pace, you grinned up at his scowling face.

"thank you, porcupine!" you said brightly.

he adjusted the strap of his schoolbag, simple and black, and grunted, his form of acknowledgement.

you nudged him again, this time with your hip. "you didn't answer my question."

he shot you a sharp look, as though warning you not to test his patience. it wasn't like you'd ever heeded the warning in all the years you'd known him for, and yet you were still living and breathing and walking, alive and well.

"shouldn't matter to you," he responded, but only when it had become clear that you were not going to budge on it. megumi continued to face ahead, watching his steps as he spoke. "we're not in the same class and you won't be allowed in."

"ah, but if my memory serves me correctly," you beamed, sliding in between several seniors who were blocking the hallway to get to his class, and he shadowed you, right by the back of your heels, "you said the exact same thing in kindergarten and then they changed my name in the register so i was in your class permanently."

"set my fate with that dumb decision."

"hey," you frowned, looking at him from over your shoulder and furrowing your brows, lips set in a straight line. "that's rude."

megumi didn't grace you with a response to that, only following in your footsteps as you managed to squeeze past the groups of people huddled in the middle of the narrow corridor.

"besides," you began, once the two of you were walking side-by-side again, "if that decision wasn't made, you'd have a boring life, porcupine."

as the two of you neared megumi's classroom, the energy of the hallway shifted — voices grew louder, students lingered in clumps near the door, waiting to slip in just before the bell rang. it did tend to annoy you when they'd stand in a huddle and make it difficult to walk properly, but you'd gotten used to it after the first couple of weeks starting high school for the first time.

the sharp lines of megumi's face settled into something halfway between annoyance and resignation, his brows pinched, and his jaw clenched slightly as though he were biting back a retort. he shot you a sidelong glance, and for a moment, a split second in time, his expression softened — if you didn't know him that well, you might have thought you imagined it — almost as if he were mulling over what you'd said before huffing quietly, that familiar scowl reappearing on his face as he straightened his posture, ready to brush you off as he always did.

"you don't believe me?" you questioned, amused.

"it'd be stupid of me to believe someone who has a criminal history of lying," he grumbled, eyes half-lidded as though the answer had been obvious enough for a five year old to guess. arguably, you thought the five year old version of him probably would have said the exact same line, word for word. he had been too grown to actually be a kid.

"lying is part of my major," you reminded him, brows raised. "that's why i'm always the lead in the plays."

megumi averted his gaze, grumpy. "my bad. i thought you threatened everyone for the role —"

"i'm not a delinquent like you," you told him, smiling, and when he made a move to pinch you on your side, you dramatically flattened yourself against the lockers."i'll yell for help!" you hurriedly warned him, eyes cautiously wide as you followed where his pale hand was left outstretched near you.

he narrowed his own at you, contemplating. you could see the cogs turning in his head, thinking, deciding. you helped him make his decision faster by parting your lips, a silent threat. wisely, he retracted his hand, walking to his classroom which was at the end of the corridor, not looking back to see if you would catch up to him.

you did, in fact, catch up to him, if only to prove your initial point:

"if you weren't friends with me, what would you keep yourself entertained with, huh?" you asked, slapping his bag. he threw you a dirty look despite the fact that the hit wasn't enough to even make him stumble. "your non-fiction books? oh, i know a great non-fiction joke for you!"

"leave me alone," said megumi, glowering. "isn't your class down there?"

he gestured to the other end of the corridor.

you ignored him.

"why can't you trust an atom?" you asked, and when he refused to answer, instead choosing to duck under miss zaid's oustretched arm to go inside his class, you answered anyway, halting by the door because she stepped in front of you. "because they make up everythi— oh hey miss zaid!"

the teacher in question took back her arm and folded it over her chest, leaning against the door frame to block your entrance. you looked around, over your shoulder and around the corridor, before looking back up at her and smiling.

"who are you standing guard for?" you asked brightly. "can i help?"

"you can," she nodded, jutting her chin in the direction of the end of the hall, her expression half amused and half firm. "by making your way to mrs jenkins's class."

you shook your head firmly.

"but mr gojo said i could stay here instead," you said, expression grave. satoru had said no such thing, but that didn't matter, not to you at least.

"okay," said miss zaid, letting out a long exhale through her nose. "and is mr gojo part of the student advisory?"

your eyes darted left and right, momentarily speechless.

"he owns the pharmacy down the block," you tried, smiling pleasantly.

"and what does that have to do with the school?"

"erm... the first aid stuff in the school —"

the more you blabbered, the more unconvinced she became. you raised your brows at her, stern and serious.

"but my timetable's changed," you informed her, watching as the crease between her brows began to deepen as you spoke. "yeah, it says i'm in this class now."

miss zaid stepped aside to let two other students through. you took the opportunity to try and follow in right after them, only to be stopped when she rapidly stood back in that defensive position again. you frowned — what were you, a danger to the class?

"does it say my name on your timetable?" she asked you, curious.

you nodded.

she extended her hand, making a come hither motion.

"show me your timetable," she'd said, and at that, you froze.

it had been a lie after all. you were hoping to gain entry without the necessary proof. it had, after all, worked last year.

you watched her brows unknit themselves, tilting her head at you expectantly.

you paused.

"miss i really like the colour of your hijab today —"

"go," she interrupted loudly, pointing at the room you were meant to be in, all the way on the other side of the country, "to class, y/n." she looked up and nodded. "hi, yuji — come inside."

you turned and looked over your shoulder. sure enough, yuji was right there, walking alongside junpei, a tall, skinny boy who you had met during middle school in one of yuji's classes. the two were close, and when neither you, megumi nor nobara wanted to watch the weird movies yuji was always invested in, junpei had always been his go-to.

junpei was also in your homeroom class with nobara.

"what're you doing here?" yuji asked you, nodding at junpei when he walked off in the direction you were meant to be going in.

"what am i—" you repeated with a scoff, looking around as though that had been the stupidest question ever asked. "this is my class!"

miss zaid sighed. "y/n," she uttered your name sternly.

"miss, i can knock her out and then carry her to her actual class," yuji offered seriously.

you turned slowly, fixing yuji with a look that could curdle milk, disgust etched across your face, brows pinched and lip curled as though you'd just been asked to eat a pile of socks.

without missing a beat, yuji assumed a playful but overly dramatic fighting stance, feet squared and fists up like he was in some action movie. he bounced lightly, eyes narrowing in mock seriousness as he sized you up. perhaps it would've been almost intimidating if he hadn't grinned halfway through, flashing his teeth in a way that revealed he was completely unserious, and only had you staring at him with that unmoving disgusted expression.

"i appreciate your efforts yuji, but that... won't be necessary," miss zaid added, stepping aside to let him go inside.

"you have a bunch of weirdos in your class," you told her, scowling at the top of his pink head as he ducked under her arm and waved enthusiastically at megumi, who was slouching in his seat at the back of the classroom. "that's why i'm not in it."

and before she could order you to leave again, you stood on your tiptoes and waved at your grumpy friend, blowing kisses and beaming at him.

"bye megumi elizabeth fushiguro!" you yelled, smiling from ear to ear, and bouncing on your toes excitedly. "i'll miss you megumi elizabeth! bye megumi! i love you megumi! i'll miss you megu—"

"all right, i think he heard you," miss zaid nodded, looking over her shoulder to be met with the sight of the dark-haired boy facing the board with such seriousness, it appeared as though the class had already started and he was listening attentively to the non-existent teacher. his eyes would dart back to meet yours, and each time they did, his gaze would harden and his scowl would deepen.

"did i tell you how much i'll miss you, megumi?" you added loudly.

"y/n, don't make me write you up and give you a detention," said miss zaid, watching as you waved a hand at her and walked off.

"all right, all right, i'm going," you grumbled, turning on your heel and strolling down the hallway.

as you moved farther away, miss zaid's voice echoed faintly behind you, catching you off guard as she questioned whether megumi's middle name was actually elizabeth, her tone somewhere between bemusement and scepticism.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

the boys' locker room was a space with rows of navy-blue metal lockers, their surfaces chipped and dented from years of use. megumi unlocked his and shoved his school pants inside, the overhead fluorescent lights casting a sharp, sterile glow over the room, bright enough to reflect off the scuffed tiled floor where several of his teammates were sitting, tying their shoelaces. other members of his team, including yuta, yuji, and toge, sat on the wooden benches that ran parallel to the lockers, worn and slightly uneven in places, each spot marked by countless cleats and gear bags left by players.

chad had been complaining about the faint smell of old sweat and disinfectant that clung to the air, mingling with the metallic scent of the lockers, and despite megumi not conversing with the rest, he silently agreed.

where the few hooks were attached along the walls (each draped with stray jerseys, hoodies, and extra uniforms) megumi glanced down at his own, a slight frown tugging at the corners of his lips. he would need to get a new one — he had outgrown the one he'd just got over the summer.

he didn't know whether he should be pleased or annoyed: perhaps both.

"yaga's gonna murder you if you don't have that game plan ready for today, todo," one of the guys — oliver martin, megumi realised — had said.

todo had been quick to retort:

"this was way more important!"

in the back corner where todo stood tall, a whiteboard was propped up with play diagrams still faintly visible from last practice, but the deep lining of blue marker that formed a surprisingly accurate drawing of nobuko takada (a japanese pop idol who todo had mentioned several times that he'd die for) took up the rest of the board.

he kicked a couple of duffel bags that slouched nearby, stuffed with tangled shin guards, socks, and forgotten water bottles, before speaking in that excessively loud voice of his.

"if any of you, except for my brother yuji, can give me your type of woman that's valid," he began, only warranting several groans and protests from every member in the room, "i'll come up with a game plan so you don't have to!"

kamo, who had been minding his own business up until now, slammed his locker door shut and stared up at the demanding team captain, eyes half-lidded.

"you did this last time and then tried to attack chad," he reminded him, and chad, who had been sitting on the bench slouched over, sat up and shook his head, disappointed.

"yeah, dude," he spoke breathily, visibly upset, "and that wasn't cool."

"YOUR TYPE ISN'T COOL —"

"relax," said kamo, which prompted everyone else to follow and agree.

todo's gaze snapped towards kamo, lingering a beat too long, his eyes narrowing in an expression that balanced somewhere between irritation and threat, his jaw clenching as he sized him up, lips pressing into a thin line, as though silently daring him to say more.

"what's your type then?" demanded todo, pointing at an unfazed kamo who simply raised a brow and turned away, seemingly uninterested in participating in this game todo enjoyed so much. "HEY! I'M TALKING TO YOU!"

kamo stared at him again, deadpanned. "sorry, didn't notice."

"every single one of us have said our type except for you, man," andre johnson added, momentarily shirtless just to speak before pulling his head through his blue jersey. "just say it."

"i actually wanna know what your type is," said yuji, interested. "i can't imagine you with anyone, kamo."

majority of the guys in the room collectively voiced their agreement. megumi silently agreed too — kamo never showed interest in anything other than his hobbies, like football. the hum of the vent overhead was steady as the low, animated chatter continued, todo waiting for an answer impatiently by the whiteboard.

"loner."

kamo placed one foot on the bench, bending down to tie his laces together. "liked you better when you were mute, toge," he said, though not unkindly.

"he likes a tall girl with a big ass, okay?" logan parker intervened, sighing audibly. "he told me, all right?"

kamo turned to logan, his expression deadpan, unimpressed by the sudden revelation. the lack of humour in his gaze spoke volumes, making it painfully obvious to megumi that kamo had never confided in logan about such a preference.

his straightforward nature, megumi had decided, left no room for such casual gossip, and it was hard to believe that he would ever engage in a conversation about his personal preferences with someone as prone to exaggeration as logan.

"is that true?" todo demanded almost immediately after logan had added his false input.

kamo tied his hair back, looking uncaring and tired. "no."

todo clenched his fists.

"your type can't be that bad," he said, looking around before his eyes landed on megumi, who was now sitting on the bench beside yuta, staring at nothing in particular. "bet it's not like fushiguro's — which is BORING,by the way!"

megumi looked up at the mention of his name and scowled.

everyone had immediately come to his defence, telling todo to 'cut it out' and to 'leave him alone', but it still didn't remove the absent sting he felt on the side of his head when todo had made an attempt to attack him (and had also been very nearly successful in doing so).

during freshman year of high school, when the football team had been formed and established, everyone was made to introduce themselves to each other, which was where the drama had begun. long story short: todo had asked for megumi's type in women, megumi answered unsatisfactorily ('i don't have a preference, so long as she's compassionate and has an unshakeable character') which resulted in a traumatic experience of attempted murder — as yuji had called it.

"todo, get over it!"

"yeah, dude, you literally pressured him for it!"

"it just wasn't cool, dude..."

"man, you a weirdo!"

"HIS TYPE IS BORING!" todo roared, throwing the marker he had in his hand somewhere behind himself. "NO IT'S STARTING TO PISS ME OFF! NO IT'S STARTING TO— I SHOULD —"

he rolled his sleeves up threateningly.

megumi furrowed his brows at him as everyone scrambled to stop the team captain from making a decision that would get him suspended from the school entirely.

"WOAH, WOAH, WOAH —"

"— TODO MAN —"

"— BRO CHILL —"

"— CALM DOWN —"

"stop, you're gonna make megumi sad!" yuji added fiercely, before extending an arm past both toge and yuta to grab his arm. todo had turned away, chest heaving and shoulders shaking as logan and chad patted his back as though trying to silence a wailing baby. "are you okay, megumi?"

the exaggerated, pouting look on yuji's face made megumi want to punch him.

"i'm fine," he grumbled, shrugging yuji's hand off of him, but yuji had remained persistent, forcefully gluing his palm on his front and deepening his look of pity. megumi glared down at his pesky hand.

"it's okay megumi," yuji sorrowfully informed him.

"i said i'm —"

"you don't have to be sad, megumi —"

megumi took his hand and twisted it; yuji yelped and snatched his hand back, frowning as he threw his grumpy friend a pained look.

"little harsh," yuta commented, rubbing the back of his neck with a sheepish smile.

megumi averted his gaze, half annoyed. "he deserved it."

when toge let out a small chuckle, megumi looked up at the scene before him, half-listening to todo's persistent questioning (he seemed to have got over megumi and his type), the chatter weaving through the room in an easy manner, almost as though megumi hadn't just been targeted for no apparent reason at all two seconds ago. his gaze drifted over to kamo, who, as usual, remained largely unfazed, his expression somewhere between calm and indifferent as todo's relentless interrogation continued.

watching them, megumi's mind wandered slightly — his teammates' voices ebbed and flowed, equal parts curiosity and exasperation filling the space. it was only towards the end of the conversation did megumi actually find something he believed he had mild interest in...

"what's it called when someone doesn't like anyone?" saidoliver, holding his helmet against his side, beneath his arm. "like, when a person just doesn't feel anything?"

"depression," megumi answered bluntly.

every head in the room turned to look at his, some were laughing and some looked unsurprised.

oliver furrowed his brows, disappointed. "dude."

"stop projecting, man."

"bro, you good?"

megumi ignored them, mentally cursing himself for participating in the stupid conversation to begin with. he silently reminded himself to never do so again. perhaps he would note it down somewhere when he got home.

"nah, i meant when like — y'know a guy or a girl — like when they've never liked someone. or had a crush," oliver continued, turning to kamo with a shrug. "maybe you're that. whatever the hell it's called."

"not good enough," todo shook his head, arms folded over his chest in another obvious attempt to look intimidating. "if all you PATHETIC excuses for men, EXCEPT MY BROTHER YUJI, won't give me a valid type right NOW —"

"i like someone," said kamo, pinching the bridge of his nose with an obvious scowl.

everyone froze, looking up at him as though the mere idea of kamo showing interest in anyone was foreign. megumi believed they all had a right to act shocked, not that it was any of their business to begin with.

because it wasn't.

and yet, even to him, it was surprising.

a few of the guys exchanged wide-eyed glances, eyebrows raised, and mouths slightly open, the disbelief clear in their expressions. even todo, typically unshakeable in his boldness, seemed momentarily thrown off balance, his stance faltering as he processed the unexpected confession. a hush seemed to settle over the group of boys, broken only by the quiet sound of kamo's gear as he slung it over his shoulder and moved towards the exit, leaving a wave of curiosity and shock in his wake.

"c'mon man, you can't just say something like that and then leave!" andre said, hurriedly collecting his own gear to follow the stoic boy out of the locker room.

"it's mai, isn't it?" said ethan miller, slamming his locker door shut and staring at the back of kamo's head.

yuji looked at megumi and then back up at ethan. "mai zenin?"

"there's only one mai in the entire school," said ethan, nodding. he called out to kamo again. "i saw you and her speaking like a week ago or somethin'."

kamo turned around, his back to the door as he furrowed his brows, seemingly offended by the accusation.

"no it's not —" he began, letting out a sigh of exhaustion before rolling his eyes. "it's not mai."

"give us SOMETHING, then, and i'll take it!" todo demanded, slamming his hand on the whiteboard with takada on it. uncoincidentally, it landed on her behind.

kamo considered the proposal for a moment, his eyes glancing over every face in the room, nearly all of whom seemed relieved at todo's statement, before he sighed again, muttering something under his breath.

"you know her pretty well," he said, glancing at yuji and then megumi. they barely had the time to register his response before he turned away, pulling open the door to leave. "and that's all you're getting out of me," he added calmly. "so don't bother trying for more."

he left without another word.

the entire room shifted their attention to megumi and yuji, eyes darting between the two as if expecting one of them to unravel kamo's cryptic hint. a few of the guys raised their eyebrows, curiosity and intrigue plastered across their faces. logan nudged chad with a knowing grin, while toge and yuta exchanged speculative glances.

megumi could feel their gazes like a weight, pressing him to acknowledge that he, along with yuji, might know the answer everyone was dying to hear.

he turned his head to face his friend: yuji simply blinked, apparently still wrapping his head around kamo's words. but megumi believed yuji had a better shot at guessing who the mystery girl was. yuji was, after all, a million times more social than him.

as the silence lingered, megumi found himself lost in thought, trying to recall any recent interaction that could hint at kamo's mystery interest. he sifted through memories, wondering if there had been any subtle clues he'd missed — any glances, moments, or lingering exchanges that might narrow it down. kamo's calm, almost detached nature made it hard to picture him in the throes of a crush, but megumi couldn't shake the curiosity that now gnawed at him.

he only knew two girls 'pretty well', and that was you and nobara, but he could not imagine either of you hanging off of kamo's arm. in fact, if anything, he imagined kamo hanging off of nobara's arm (which didn't make sense, seeing as that would be out of character of him). similarly, megumi couldn't imagine you willingly being held back by his arm, instead choosing to skip off into the distance which would surely annoy the serious, long-haired male.

but he was well aware of the fact that nobara and kamo had shared several classes together...

he could still feel everyone's gazes burning holes all over his face, and he scowled, unwilling to give anyone the satisfaction of entertaining the idea too openly.

but it seemed that the team captain did not happen to agree with this sentiment.

"right, new task!" todo called out, clapping his hands to draw everyone's attention away from an unwilling megumi and a confused yuji to himself instead. he had already rubbed out the takada drawing and had begun the game planning. megumi had not realised it until now. "FIND KAMO'S GIRL! and this time next week, we'll gather 'round and narrow it down!"

as everyone nodded and cheered, some making their way out of the room while others lingered and chatted, he called out to both yuji and megumi.

"BROTHER!" he bellowed, pointing at him with the blue marker. "i'm leaving it to you and fushiguro!"

a pause.

"mainly you because i don't trust fushiguro!"

yuji and megumi had already stood up by that point, and megumi's scowl had deepened. it wasn't as though he cared enough to be part of this operation anyway. it was something he'd most likely think about alone, where no one could put in their unintelligent claims and disrupt his wise way of thinking. what did todo know about that anyway?

he looks like a pineapple, megumi thought to himself as he watched him demand both himelf and yuji to deal with the stupid task. and he's about as smart as one too.

"UNDERSTAND?"

"yeah!"

"sure," megumi answered, but he hadn't been paying attention at all.

todo had left the changing room, followed by majority of the team. yuji was the only one left in the room with him.

"i think it's nobara," he said, placing his helmet on his head. "she's extra mean to him 'cause he acts like he knows everything. she hates guys like that."

"that... contradicts your point," said megumi, furrowing his brows.

"no, don't you know that girls act really mean to the guys they like?" yuji chuckled, shaking his head at him as if megumi had very little knowledge. it made the dark-haired boy want to attack his friend. "hey... maybe that's why all the girls on the cheer team are so mean to me! yeah!"

megumi did not remind him of the time yuji had accidentally flashed the cheer team, and that from then on, every member, including the substitutes, would be extra harsh towards him.

"yeah," he said, putting his own helmet on and following yuji out of the room. "that's the reason."

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

exiting the theatre classroom, you caught sight of megumi waiting on one of the benches outside, still dressed in his football uniform, his untamed hair still findings ways to stand up on its own despite the fact that it must have been forced down during practice. you almost laughed out loud at the broad shoulder pads and the snug navy-blue jersey that made him look slightly out of place in the hallway, but it was the way his helmet balanced awkwardly on his lap as he stared down at it, clearly impatient, that had you grinning.

you couldn't help but laugh, your voice echoing lightly off the walls as you made your way towards him, amused by how tense he looked even off the field. he looked up at the sound, his eyes narrowing in mild annoyance as he rose to meet you, a faint crease forming between his brows.

"you look angry," you commented teasingly.

"shut up," he muttered, scowling as he lifted the helmet and carefully placed it over your head. it wobbled slightly, oversized and unsteady, making you nearly lose your balance when he gave it a firm pat on top — a solid thump, just hard enough to send a warning, though not enough to hurt.

"it's so uncomfortable," you said, as the two of you made your way to the school gates to leave. "how the hell do you football players wear this for hours on end?"

"with breaks," he answered, and you had to physically move your head upwards to actually be able to see his face, for the lines going over and under the front gap limited the scope of your vision. "you get used to it."

you hummed in response, looking over your shoulder and around the area with curiosity.

"where's yuji?" you asked casually.

"ran for his bus," said megumi, as the two of you had gone past the gates and onto the main road leading to your neighbourhood. "said he didn't wanna take the late one 'cause then he'd have to sit for most of it with todo."

"should've made him late so he'd have to take the late one," you tutted, nearly walking into a lamppost — it was megumi's quick actions that had saved you, tugging you away by your elbow.

"the hell's wrong with you?" he demanded harshly. "your vision isn't completely gone with that on. you're not blind."

"it takes a while to get used to!" you protested, rubbing the top of his helmet as though it were your own scalp. "you said so yourself!"

megumi's expression hardened, his brow furrowing as he shot you a look that seemed to question every life choice that led you to nearly walking into a lamppost. he didn't need to say a word; the look alone was enough to convey his frustration, his mouth set in a thin line as he continued to stare at you with a sort of weary patience that he seemed to reserve just for moments like this.

"stop acting drunk," he ordered, walking a step behind you now. it was as if he assumed that watching over you would prevent your free will from prevailing over his demands.

at some point during the walk home, the conversation had shifted from the limited vision with the helmet, to gossip you had heard during stage practice, to toji and the unethical ways he kept a steady income, to what his teammates were saying in the locker room earlier, something you found yourself quite fascinated with.

"i'd hate to be you, not gonna lie... but what would you have done if todo did attack you?" you asked him, drumming your fingers on the helmet which you still hadn't taken off despite how uncomfortable it felt wearing it. you turned your head (fully) to look at your own reflection in a car mirror by the crosswalk.

you thought you looked ridiculous.

you didn't care.

megumi placed a hand on the centre of his helmet and forced your head to face the front again.

"this is how you end up walking into lampposts," he lectured with a scowl, before placing his hand in the pocket of his shorts and answering your question. "i would've defended myself."

"against todo?" you gaped, stupefied. "no offence, but he'd crush you. he's — like — your dad of our generation."

"don't ever say that again," megumi had been quick to counter, and though you couldn't see it, you knew he was glaring down at you. despite the thick material of the helmet you were wearing, you felt the heat of his gaze, like lasers burning holes where they landed.

he did not like that comparison at all.

you apologised. "sorry. you're the only copy of your dad there is —"

"watch it."

"am i just not allowed to say anything then?" you snapped, your arms flailing about dramatically.

"it's a preference," megumi began, the tone of his voice sly in a way you were very much familiar with and did not like at all, "but i know you won't do it."

you raised a pointer finger defensively. "megumi, if i could see you right now —"

"— it's not that hard —"

"— and if i was as tall as you," you continued as though he hadn't interrupted, "i would head-butt you so bad, you'd wish todo was the one dealing with you."

as the two of you stepped up to the crosswalk, megumi reached out and firmly took hold of your hand, steering you with a purposeful grip so you'd follow his lead across the road. his hold was steady, guiding, yet the pointed glare he cast downwards made it clear he wasn't thrilled with the direction the conversation had taken. even as he glanced from you to the road ahead, his gaze lingered, sharp with irritation, and each time he looked back, it was as if he had been silently reminding you of the absurdity of comparing him to todo — or worse, his dad.

his hand stayed firmly around yours until you were safely on the other side of the street. he let go, only to hit you on the helmet again.

"ow!"

"shut up, that didn't hurt."

you ignored him.

"what happened next?" you queried as you tugged on his jersey and pointed at buttercup brew where miss B was waving at the two of you from behind the glass, entry doors.

you waved back, making sure megumi had too — he was much less enthusiastic, but it was still enough to please miss B, who went back to working, leaving the two of you to continue the short walk home.

megumi answered idly. "kamo said he likes someone."

your eyes widened, and if it hadn't been for his outstretched arm once again, you would have tripped over your own foot.

"WHAT?"

"for fu— be careful —"

"noritoshi kamo?" you gasped, walking alongside megumi in visible and audible shock.

the best way to describe noritoshi kamo, you decided, was a guy who had no care in the world for anything: he lost a shoe? he'd buy a new one. you lost his homework sheet you'd been copying from? he'd quickly make a new one. he lost a football game? the next one would be better.

noritoshi kamo was no optimist, but he was definitely not someone capable of romantic feelings for anyone.

or so you had thought...

"everyone just started guessing who," megumi added, frowning.

"and did they guess right?" you pressed, intrigued. "who is it?"

your dark-haired friend shrugged, which resulted in your shoulders deflating, immediately disappointed before he'd even said anything.

"that's the thing," megumi said, unbothered. "he didn't say anything about it."

"well that was anti-climactic," you mumbled, turning a corner and seeing both your houses in the distance.

the walk was nearly over, so you lifted the helmet off your head, shook your hair away from your face, and held it beneath your arm. you appreciated just how large your field of vision was now. the helmet had been pesky, hot, and annoying.

"and i'm out of gossip," you sighed, allowing the summer breeze to flow past your face, the air feeling nice against your skin. "wish nobara was here. she always has something to talk about."

"he said something in the end though. when todo forced him."

you were surprised your head hadn't popped right off your neck with how fast you'd turned it to look up and lock eyes with him. megumi needed to work on how he told and relayed stories — this was by far the worst one he'd ever done.

"well?" you prompted, stressed that the walk was shortening the closer you got to your houses.

"yuji and i know her pretty well," said megumi at last, brows furrowed as you handed him his helmet. when you raised a brow at him, visibly confused, he scowled. "his words, not mine."

the thought lingered, growing heavier as you replayed kamo's words in your mind: someone yuji and megumi know pretty well...

your brows knitted together as you tried to piece it together, replaying moments you'd seen kamo interact with people you that were close with both yuji and megumi. the issue here was that megumi's anti-social nature narrowed it down to two people:

you or nobara.

you knew with certainty it couldn't be you. you had had a fair few conversations with the male, but nothing that you could pick apart and decide that he had any interest in you. it was mostly just random, fun situations, like the time you had accidentally triggered malakai and requested kamo to support your statement that it hadn't been you, only to blame it on him (kamo) in the end.

that should make him dislike you, if anything. at the time, however, he didn't seem to care.

could nobara be the girl he liked?

that was something you'd have to ask her, though you highly doubted it. you knew her quite well, and no guy had caught her interest. at least, not at jujutsu high, where she mainly criticised the male gender and grew new icks every day that went by.

for the fun of it, you still asked megumi whether it could be possible that someone could have a crush on you.

his reaction, however, had you visibly startled.

he averted his gaze, his shoulders stiffening as though unsure of how to respond. you waited, but his silence lingered, and his eyes seemed to dart briefly to the ground, almost as if he'd been caught off guard by your question.

your brows raised as you bit back a smile. it was rare to see him hesitate like this — normally, he'd offer some blunt response or scowl and move on, but now, an uncharacteristic awkwardness settled over him, and it looked almost as if he was bracing himself, unable to fully meet your gaze.

"no," he finally settled on saying, walking you to your door as he always would when going home together.

"you hesitated," you informed him knowingly.

"i was thinking of how long it'd take for you to scare them off," megumi shot back, ringing the doorbell for you.

you watched him walk off the porch, hearing footsteps echo from behind the front door as you hummed, nodding.

"nice save," you told him, relishing in his scowl, the last thing you saw on his face before your mom had opened the door and allowed you in, closing it behind you after telling megumi to come inside — he had refused like the delinquent porcupine he was.

and as megumi made his way over to his own porch, he realised that for the first time ever, he couldn't help the feeling of relief after ending a conversation with you.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

bonus scene:

the helicopter incident of 2016...

"what the fuck?"

megumi staggered away from the three of you —yourself, yuji, and nobara — craning his neck in a desperate attempt to peer over his shoulder at his own backside. bewildered, he muttered to himself, trying to comprehend why his so-called friends had just collectively ambushed him, each having touched his bottom once before guffawing loudly. what had you all done to him?

he made his way to the back door (but not before throwing the three of you a menacing glare) using the reflection of the glass as a mirror.

he was left horrified at the sight of three different handprints made out of neon paint colours (bright yellow, vibrant pink, and an intense lime) on the most compromising part of his pants:

his ass.

"shit — look at his face," you gasped, chest heaving at his expression. "take a picture with — catch it! — my phone."

you tossed your phone to nobara, who, unlike you and yuji, had the least amount of paint coating her delicate hands. meanwhile megumi's had shot to cover his behind as he whipped around, fixing the three of you with a glare so fierce, it might have turned a lesser person to stone.

flash! flash! flash!

nobara had captured his expressions, postures, and stances before he had a chance to compose himself into something less revealing.

as you took your phone out of nobara's hands, your attention had been drawn to a growing commotion behind you, distant shouts and laughter cutting through the playful chaos around megumi. you tossed a quick, amused glance back at nobara and yuji, both of whom were doubled over in laughter, still entirely focused on your collective attack on megumi, before aiming the lens on your phone not at your porcupine's flustered face, but at the source of the noise in the distance, recording just in time to capture a particularly raucous burst of laughter that had echoed around the backyard.

toji, towering and muscular, stood with his arms flat against his sides, looking both impatient and exasperated as satoru (in front of him) and suguru (behind him) launched paint-filled balloons at him. each balloon splattered bright colours across his chest, only to be rebuffed by his broad, muscular torso in what seemed like a defiant bounce.

splashes of paint exploded across his 'man-tits,' as satoru had so eloquently called them, left bright patches on his shirt as he glared at the two childish men surrounding him, chest heaving and fists clenched.

"shit!"satoru took several steps back, looking down at his own chest where the balloon he'd thrown at toji had bounced back at himself instead, splattering his white shirt with bright blue. he looked up at suguru, eyes wide behind his glasses. "that one came from his right titty —"

suguru laughed, throwing a paint balloon up in the air, catching it, and then launching it at the oddly-silent toji.

only for it to bounce back, just as expected. he had stepped aside just in time. "and that one came from his left breast —"

the veins running up toji's hands and arms grew more prominent as the two continued.

"HA!" satoru pointed at his chest. "toji? more like titty —"

suguru shook his head with a sigh. "satoru, don't be childish," he said, and his best friend actually paused, brows raised in surprise. that was before suguru had clarified: "he's big titty toji —"

SPLAT!

when satoru swung his arm around in a dramatic manner while laughing, he had accidentally released another paint ballon straight at the ticking time bomb that was toji fushiguro.

he only laughed harder at that.

"look guys!" he called out to the rest of you. you zoomed in on the scene — satoru's arms were outstretched, presenting toji as if he was some special, endangered animal, rare and one-of-a-kind. "it's toji titty-guro—"

without warning, toji's arms shot out, his hands seizing both satoru and suguru by the collars of their shirts with effortless strength. you couldn't see his face, so you were unsure of whether he had been grinning, or neutral, or angry, etc, but you watched in both horror and amusement as he began to spin, dragging them with him in a rapid, dizzying circle.

every other commotion around the backyard had stopped, everyone turning to look at the odd scene, equal parts confused and terrified.

toji's feet dug into the ground, kicking up small clouds of dust, while satoru and suguru both flailed helplessly at his sides, their limbs whipping outwards as if they were rag dolls caught in a whirlwind.

a whirlwind...

"it's a tornado!" you yelled, looking around and trying hard to keep your phone steady, but the scene was so funny, your hands were shaking with the effort.

toji's powerful grip and force turned their attempts to wriggle free into nothing more than frantic gestures, their faces a mix of shock and a hint of terror as they were spun around faster and faster...

you zoomed out to capture mamaguro at the back, watching the scene with narrowed eyes and furrowed brows.

"are you gonna stop your... husband...?" you heard your mom question, sounding completely weirded out. and honestly — who could blame her?

what the hell was happening in the fushiguros' backyard?

"i... would," mamaguro muttered, carefully watching the scene continue to unfold before her, getting worse as time went on, "but... how?"

there was no opening for her to enter, you noticed. if she tried, she'd get caught up in the spinning andget severely injured too...

you couldn't believe what was happening before your eyes. you didn't know what was happening before your eyes. you didn't think you'd ever know what was happening before your eyes.

from your peripheral vision, you could see a stick of yellow just lingering awkwardly, and when you turned your head to glance at it, you nearly face palmed when you realised it was your father in his banana body-suit outfit. the only thing visible about him was the gap where his face rested. everything else, from his head, to his figure, to his shoulders, to his thighs, and to the majority of his legs, were all concealed by the thick material.

"that looks fun!" he commented brightly, a dopy smile over his face. he made an attempt to waddle over to the unnatural disaster. "i'm gonna join —"

"no, no," your mom was quick to hold him back by his banana-shaped body. she ushered him to the side, shaking her head violently. "no, honey, no. just... you're not going over there."

surprisingly, despite several minutes having gone by, the disaster was still going. in fact, everyone had believed it to be finished when toji had stopped (revealing the other dishevelled men stumbling over their own footsteps) only for the man to spin himself around only and charge at the duo again.

violently.

"round two!" you called out, startled. "round two or — or — er — round one point five since it never... it never finished, technically — oh my god —"

you focused your camera around the backyard, spotting mai climbing over the fence. her eyes met your phone, and she disappeared behind the wall without a second thought.

wise, you thought to yourself, wondering if mimiko and nanako had done the same, for despite several pans of the large area, your camera could not seem to find them.

a bellow erupted across the scene, stopping everything and everyone cold in their tracks. you turned, a jolt running down your spine at the sight of ogi and the sound of his voice thundering through the air — you fumbled to stop your recording in a panic, heart pounding.

a wave of silence blanketed the chaos.

toji froze mid-spin, his arms still outstretched, while satoru and suguru, dishevelled and breathless, stared up from the ground, shock and trauma wiping away their usual confidence. megumi, still clutching his rear, went pale, his expression stiffening as he shrank further into his hiding place. your dad, in his ridiculous banana costume, managed a sheepish, guilty smile, while mamaguro blinked, bewildered, glancing between her husband and the mess of people sprawled about. tsumiki giggled softly in the corner, the only one unfazed, her amusement uncontained. in the abrupt stillness, ogi's glare was sharp enough to cut through steel, as if daring anyone to make the next move.

"WHAT," he demanded, voice booming, "IS GOING ON HERE?"

there was only silence that followed his question as he slowly entered the backyard, paint and balloons all over the grass and fences, a mess.

"AN EVENT ORGANISED TO ENCOURAGE NORMALCY, AND THIS FAMILY CAN'T EVEN DO THAT!"

his eyes, cold and sharp, darted to megumi, whose back was flat against the fence.

"THE VERY PROGENY OF THE ZENIN CLAN — WITH RAINBOW HANDPRINTS ON HIS GODDAMN ASS!"

megumi's cheeks burned as he scowled. it didn't help that yuji and nobara were still holding back their laughter too.

"AND YOU!" ogi turned to a normal (now?) toji, looking him up and down with such disgust, you'd think he were staring at a homicide scene. it might have actually been one, to be fair. "I CANT EVEN SAY THAT YOU'RE PART OF MY BLOODLINE! WHAT WAS THIS, A RE-ENACTMENT OF KAMIKAZE?"

toji scoffed, throwing satoru a glare. "he was the pilot —"

satoru stood up almost immediately. "you were the helicopter —"

"SIT DOWN."

despite his obvious reluctance, satoru silently complied.

ogi took this as a sign to continue, glowering menacingly at the white-haired, dark-haired duo. now, literal partners in crime.

"WE GOT SPONGEBOB AND PATRICK OVER HERE, DOING GOD-KNOWS-WHAT. WHY IS YOUR HAIR A MESS AND WHY ARE YOUR GLASSES BROKEN?"

satoru reached up to take his glasses off, hanging in an odd, desperate position over the bridge of his nose, a pout on his face at the sight of the irreparable damage.

he glared at toji from over his shoulder. "HEY —"

"OI LEAVE HIM ALONE!" ogi was quick to add, irate. "IF YOU HADN'T BOTHERED HIM, MAYBE HE WOULDN'T HAVE MADE AN ATTEMPT TO ELIMINATE THE TWO OF YOU FROM EXISTENCE!"

he rubbed his hands over his wrinkled face, before starting at the two men again.

"NO, I'LL TELL YOU WHY THE BOTH OF YOU LOOK LIKE THIS, IT'S BECAUSE YOU'RE BEHAVING LIKE MONKEYS — I DON'T WANNA HEAR IT GETO!" he added harshly, for suguru had an oddly deep hatred for the animal and whichever family it comes from, and had seemed particularly offended with ogi's comment. "I MEAN LOOK AT THE STATE OF YOU! YOU LOOK LIKE MAI'S FIRST GRADE ART PROJECT THAT I THREW IN THE TRASH —"

maki, who had been lingering at the back with your mom stepped forward despite your mom's silent actions not to.

"you threw that away?" she questioned, eyes narrowed behind her round, clear glasses. "she spent years attacking me for it —"

ogi's hardened expression had faltered slightly, a look of pain crossing his features. you were certain it was more about getting caught than the actual issue at hand.

"yeah, yeah, it was you that threw it," he mindlessly replied, before his jaw had clenched harder than before. "SPEAKING OF, WHERE THE HELL IS YOUR SISTER?"

maki sniffed, irritated. "i don't —"

"this has that luke kid written all over it," ogi interrupted, uncaring of maki. "GREAT! SO I'VE GOT A RUNAWAY BRIDE, AND TWEEDLE DEE AND TWEEDLE DUM ARE MISSING. PROBABLY AT THE ZOO ACTING LIKE THEIR FATHER — SHUT IT GETO."

he swivelled on the spot, his long hair whipping behind himself as his eyes zeroed in on your father, still in that banana costume of his.

"AND YOU — GET RID OF THAT RIDICULOUS COSTUME! THEY MIGHT WANNA EAT YOU NEXT — TRYNA JOIN THE HELICOPTER WITH HIS IDIOCY!"

your father frowned, but still made an attempt at trying to unzip himself. his arms, however, were much too short to go around the costume and reach the zipper.

"well it's kinda..." he murmured, bending his knees for a better angle, "stuck... i need some... help... here... honey?"

your mom turned away, drinking her lemonade with raised brows. "who's honey?"

uncle ogi had had enough. "G-GET BACK HERE AND TAKE HIS STUPID COSTUME OFF OF HIM!"

your mom turned back around, but her eyes were darting over the place as though ogi was speaking to anyone but her.

"IT'S YOUR CARELESS BEHAVIOUR THAT'S MADE HIM BELIEVE IT'S OKAY TO WEAR STUFF LIKE THAT. I'M GETTING A HEATSTROKE JUST LOOKING AT HIM!"

she glanced at her husband, watching him fall backwards due to his failed attempt at bending his knees to reach his own zipper.

she muttered under her breath: "you'd think that men would have a mind of their own..."

"YOU'RE NOT OFF THE HOOK EITHER TSUMIKI, I EXPECTED MORE FROM YOU. LAUGHING — ENCOURAGING THIS BEHAVIOUR?" he started, typically unusual, for tsumiki was never the one in trouble. today was full of surprises. he raised an accusatory pointer finger at her. "YOU WANNA BE A MOTHER SOMEDAY? YOU BETTER HOPE THEY DON'T TURN OUT LIKE THESE IDIOTS."

his eyes darted over you all in one massive circle, his mouth in a straight line.

"THIS FAMILY'S A DISGRACE TO THE ZENIN NAME —"

"not even a zenin," satoru grumbled to himself.

"yeah, neither am i," suguru agreed, blowing his bangs away from his face.

"i'm literally a l/n," you mumbled to yourself.

toji dusted himself off. "my son's not a zenin."

"THE POINT IS... YOU'VE SUMMONED THE WHOLE OF BIKINI BOTTOM TO RECORD US!" uncle ogi roared, pointing at the neighbours peeking over the fences with their phones at hand. you couldn't bring it in yourself to blame them. if you had seen the same scene happen elsewhere, you would have recorded it too.

you had recorded it, not that uncle ogi needed to know that...

"WHY ARE WE LETTING PEASANTS MAKE A LAUGHING STOCK OUT OF US?" he demanded loudly. he aggressively turned to mr smith, a white, bald man from just down the block. "OI YOU, GET RID OF THAT CAMERA BEFORE I GIVE YOU A REASON TO TAKE ME TO COURT!"

he turned to mamaguro, eyes widening at the sight of her.

"i nearly forgot about you..." he began, before taking everyone by surprise by the sheer volume of his voice, as though he hadn't been speaking that way for the past five minutes. "YOU WERE THE BRAINS BEHIND THIS ALL. WHAT MADE YOU THINK THAT THIS FAMILY COULD DO ANY EVENT WITHIN THE REALM OF HOW NORMAL OR MESSY IT SHOULD BE? THAT THEY WOULDN'T PUT THEIR STUPID TOES OUT OF LINE? THAT THEY'D BE SENSIBLE —"

"now hang on a minute," said mamaguro, her kind voice shaky, "this is not my fault! my colleague recommended a —"

"WHAT DOES YOUR COLLEAGUE KNOW ABOUT THIS FAMILY?" ogi snapped harshly. "NO BETTER THAN YOU, CLEARLY!"

he let out a deep exhale, but the tension in his temple and shoulders remained as he slowly turned around to face you. you were stunned in place, unmoving, unsmiling, unsure of what to do with yourself, in fact.

you only carefully made sure the camera was out of his sight, hidden in your back pocket where he'd have no clue that you had been recording earlier.

"AND FOR THE FIRST TIME IN MY LIFE-TIME, THIS ONE WASN'T INVOLVED IN ANY OF IT!"

you nodded proudly, mimicking his words silently behind him, pointing at satoru, pointing at suguru, even pointing at your mom.

"DIDNT EVEN START IT!" he continued loudly.

for this one, you specifically made sure to mouth the words to megumi, who you could tell, just from his cruel facial expressions, wanted nothing more than to out you right then and there, but for the first time ever, it was your word against his, and with the way things were going, you were bound to win, no difficulty.

"THIS WILL GO DOWN IN THE HISTORY BOOKS, I TELL YOU! how SHE became the role-model for you dimwits."

"role model," you mouthed, pointing at everyone. "for you, for you, and especially," you made sure to swivel your finger in a circle this time, "you."

toji gritted his teeth at you, but said nothing. you grinned confidently.

uncle ogi turned away again, eyes closed shut as he sighed audibly, a vein on his forehead threatening to burst. it only popped up again when he found yuji and nobara staring back at him.

"AND WHO THE HELL ARE YOU TWO?"

"damn... you'd think he'd know our names by now," yuji commented, rubbing his neck with shame.

"right," nodded nobara, shaking her head. "so rude."

"friends of yours?" uncle ogi turned to you, speaking in that gruff tone he usually had. but it was significantly different to the way he had been speaking to the rest of the family today. you mentally giggled to yourself as you nodded. "fine."

he glared down at satoru and suguru, eyes twitching at the mess of pain all over their white shirts, brows furrowing at the mess maid of their hairs, and lips pursing at the broken glasses satoru was still clinging onto.

"you two..." he began, voice rough and firm. "go to shoko, just go."

satoru sat up defiantly. "i don't need —"

"NOW."

satoru and suguru did their walk of shame out of the backyard.

everyone had done theirs at some point.

everyone, you noted with a pleasant smile, except for you.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

notes: the scariest event for halloween imo, is the helicopter incident. the zenin-fushiguro-gojo-l/n-geto family would agree. wbu guys???

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© tojiscrack (previously ack4rwoman)

if you enjoyed my writing, i’d really appreciate it if you tipped me — tumblr no longer has the tip function, so maybe here in my tip jar :)

i do not own any of the characters of jjk, i only own the character of y/n and her mother. the other characters belong to gege akutami.

[lifespectator]

Punk Nun

Power bottom nun!Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: The pretty nun named Wanda ended up with you…

Warnings: no specified gender but reader is AMAB, VERY little plot, mostly smut MINORS DNI, strong language, some angst Ig but hopeful ending.

A/N: I’m back and posting this to proof that visiting Santa Monica Pier at night changes a person lol anyways sorry if it isn’t the best but hope you enjoy it. Also, art not mine so credit to the original artist.

-

Who would have thought?

"I'm eager to see what's under that habit." You eyed up the horny nun as your wish to see her nude body grew more and more with each second, along with the need to touch her.

That pretty innocent-looking nun with short strawberry blonde hair that had crossed a few glances with you on the few times you did attend church would end up in your room—sitting on the edge of your bed, looking at you with lustful eyes.

It happened too fast. You heard a knock on your door, and Wanda stood there, perplexing you. When you thought she would read the Bible to you, she pushed past you with the excuse of wanting to talk to you like you had offered last time. Things went up from there, so you just chalked it up to 'fate.'

A low moan left the nun's mouth, seeing as you removed your black shirt, exposing your bare torso to her. She looked attentively at your body. Looks like your build was eye candy for her.

"I promise to let you touch." You said as Wanda shifted her attention to you. "But for now, you're in my house, so we'll do a ritual." With that, you walked out of the room. The words that had come out of your mouth had only elevated her sensation of need between her legs.

A sin? Yes. An unforgivable one for sure. She had made her vows to the church. But it wasn't her fault. Wanda never wanted to be part of that. Before, she was a typical teen with dreams and aspirations like many others. But one day, her parents told her they had chosen her life path. Why? Because they had some dream that Wanda would become a nexus being that would destroy everything. Pure nonsense, she always thought. Her biggest regret is that she never fought against her parents' decision.

It didn't matter anymore because she was with you now, and no one could stop her.

Wanda removed her loafers before you came back into the room. Carrying a bottle of red wine, you walked towards her and gently laid the bottle on the bed. She couldn't resist having you so close and lifted her hand and ran it over your abdomen. A low gasp left your mouth at her gentle touch.

"Couldn't stop yourself, huh?" You grabbed a part of the fabric of her habit. "Help me a bit." Wanda raised her arms, letting you gently pull it off her, exposing her beautiful body that was only covered by her black panties. Only Wanda's perky tits were exposed but adorned with a silver cross pendant that hung from a matching necklace. From her face down, she was worthy of being described as a goddess.

"The real sin is having you wear this, which doesn't allow me to see such beauty." You lusted, tossing the habit away, and instead reached for her soft breast, caressing them to feel their softness, making her breathing hitched when you rubbed your thumb on her perky tit. "I will have to include this in my thesis now." You teased, squeezing her breast.

"Oh, you're a priest now?" Wanda asked in a challenging tone, pushing your hands off her bust.

Cheeky. Despite not speaking much, Wanda announced she was not as innocent as she looked.

"I ain't no Martin Luther." You grinned, lightly pushing her against the bed and crawling on top of her. "But I'll gladly be your punk monk, my dear punk nun."

You planted your lips on hers as Wanda gave you access to her mouth. She reciprocated, deepening the kiss. Her tongue was swirling with yours. It was noticeable how it wasn't her first "steamy" makeout. How her hands ran from your hair to your back demonstrated how much she wanted this as much as you did. Her soft hands made her touch unique.

You parted your lips from hers and rested them on the tip of her ear.

"I'm going to begin my ritual." A low moan escaped Wanda's mouth, shivering at the feeling of your warm breath next to her ear.

You got off Wanda and kneeled beside her on the bed, grabbing the bottle of wine and opening it quickly. You offered her the bottle first, which she grabbed without hesitation. It was her favorite, after all. The nun took a deep sip of it and handed it back.

She laid back down at your instruction, letting you do as you pleased with her now. You ran your hand through her soft abdomen, preparing to give her the unexpected.

You lifted the wine bottle and tilted it towards her, pouring some of the wine on her belly button. Wanda jolted and let out a high-pitched hiss at the feeling of the cool liquid making contact with her skin.

"It's okay, beauty. You're okay." You comforted the nun. Her glare softened once she heard your words.

When the naughty nun was relaxed again, you lowered your head into her abdomen and sucked the wine that had stained her skin. Some breathy moans left her mouth as you sucked the red wine on her skin, especially at the sensitivity of her stomach. Groans left your mouth at the feeling of her warm skin. You sucked and even licked her skin until there was no trace of any liquid ever being there.

Your hand made contact with her black panties, making your cock twitch when you felt how drenched in her arousal fluids they were. The touch of your fingers on the cotton fabric that separates you from her entrance was enough to make her moan.

"Hurry the fuck up." Wanda cried when you teased her by rubbing your fingers on the fabric.

"What would your fellow sisters say with that vocabulary of yours?" You grabbed her panties from the waist and gently pulled them off her.

"I don't know. You're the one who is said not to worry about what other people say." Wanda raised her legs to assist you in removing her panties.

You passed your fingers on the top of her exposed entrance that was glistening with her wetness. Wanda mouthed a moan. "Nice to know that you do listen to me." You remarked.

Wanda moaned as you rubbed her entrance. "Fuck." She Let out when you started rubbing her clit followed by other curse words. Shaking her legs at the sensation. Her losing control gave you ideas. Without warning, you inserted two fingers into her entrance. Her sudden gasp turned into repeated moans when you started pumping your fingers into her fast. "Just like that." She begged, feeling you increase your pace. "Cum for me, nun." You groaned, feeling her walls tighten around your fingers, followed by a loud moan of hers and then the feeling of her warm fluids coming out of her pussy, getting all over your hand and staining the bed.

You brought your hand up to you and licked off her cum, savoring the taste.

You unbuckle your belt and slide off your jeans, accompanied by your boxers. Finally, let out your hardened cock, twitching at the thought of being inside Wanda.

"Show me how much you wanted this." You lay in the bed, inviting the sex-starved nun to get on top of you. She crawled on top of you, her legs on each side of your thighs. "I'll make you lose control." She smirked, looking down at you. Her confidence in her voice piqued your curiosity and even increased your need for her. "Show, not tell." You countered, also smirking and running your hand through her legs.

Letting out a low moan when you felt her soft hand grabbed your hardened cock and gave it a few slow strokes before aligning it with her entrance. She kept looking down, breathing out moans when she rubbed your tip with her slit and slowly took your whole length. "Ahh." Similar moans and some groans came out of your and Wanda's mouths as she felt your length go deeper while you felt her wet walls around your cock. You melted at the unknown energy she had. Almost as if it was another person.

You were left in a trance as you felt her soft, warm walls surrounding your cock that you overlooked when she bent down to whisper in your ear. "Let me know if you can't handle it." You weren't able to process her words once she started rocking back and forth on your cock at a slow pace to accustom to your size.

"You're a demon in disguise, huh?" You groaned at her sensual actions. Wanda placed her hands on your chest. "Let's find out." She started moving at a faster pace, waves of pleasure going through both your bodies. Wanda whimpered as she repeatedly sank into your cock. The view it gave you was mesmerizing as the way her breasts bounced, which impulsed you into grabbing them again. Kneading and teasing her perked nipples. "Keep going." She encouraged you in a breathy voice, inviting you to do more with her.

Wanting more of her body, your hands left her breast and, out of instinct, reached for her ass and held her with a tight grip stopping her movements.

"You might hurt me," Wanda teased in a raspy voice between breaths, coming to a stop and having an idea of what you were about to do. "Too late to back out now." You stretched her bum a bit before and, with no warning, pumped your cock as deeply as possible into her needy pussy. The noises of your hips hitting hers just right were barely audible as the repeated moans were louder. You continued until another sexy idea popped into your mind.

Out of nowhere, you turned her over and pinned her down on the bed without pulling out of the pretty nun. She yelped at the sudden action and breathed a bit to regain herself. Your eyes locked with hers; she was panting, sweat rolling down her face. Despite your initial thought, she wasn't amused. "You love being deep inside me." She muttered, making you lose any sense of control you had left in you.

You began moving your hips, pushing your cock deep in Wanda as much as you could at a pace that even made the bed creak. Wanda's hands gripped your biceps tightly as you started hitting the right spot. The sound of her moans and skin-to-skin contact pushed you to increase your pace; at the same time, her nails started digging into your skin; you were too lost in the pleasure even to notice it.

The good sensation of her walls clenching on you announced what was coming, so you didn't stop. You wanted to feel every last bit of her like she did of you. Wanda let out a high-pitched moan as you felt her warm juices fall on your cock, announcing her release of pleasure that you had helped build up. You stayed there on top of her, still hard, waiting for her to regain her breath. Needless to say that you were euphoric to release as well, which led you to pull out of her gently, and after giving yourself a few strokes, you reached your high as thick ropes of your cum landed just outside Wanda's entrance and her inner thighs. You Guessed this was the closest to getting to heaven as you can get.

"Fuck.. that was.. was great." Wanda panted, looking up to see you trying to smile while you regained your breath, then gently moved off her to lay beside her. You would follow up on what she said, but she stood up and went to the bathroom. "You alright?" You asked, concerned that you might have hurt her with your roughness. But again, no response from her.

You got up and followed her into the bathroom after sliding on your boxers, where Wanda had gotten one of your towels to clean herself up. You stood there waiting for her to acknowledge you, but she did not react as if you weren't there. You sighed before taking the initiative to break the uncomfortable silence. "Hey." You spoke almost like a middle schooler talking with their crush for the first time.

The nun stopped her actions, looking down after finally acknowledging you. Wanda sighed and looked back up at the mirror in front. "It's just," She gritted her teeth. "Fuck," She muttered, letting the towel hit the floor. "I have to return to my boring life as a nun." Her words expressed impotence and frustration.

You stayed quiet, imagining Wanda's daily torment of being somewhere she didn't want. A literal place that can be a dream killer. Well, you didn't have to. Living in the same old boring town took away your will to live mentally. But it was nothing compared to what Wanda has been through.

"Maybe you don't have to, Wanda," You picked up the towel and put it around Wanda's shoulder to cover her. Your words made her look at you with curiosity and perhaps a bit of hope, which she needed at this time. "Why don't we leave this shitty place together?" You offered, as shock and confusion plastered on her face.

"What do you mean?" She asked, still trying to understand what you had said.

"Fuck whatever we have here. Let's leave somewhere else where we can be ourselves and leave all this behind." You said as you realized what some of her concerns could be. Also, the fact that you barely knew each other. "There is no easy way to explain, but just think about it."

Wanda said nothing but was attentive to your words. She said nothing at first, but the smile that started to creep on her face was enough to confirm that she had already made her decision, and it would be one that would change something for both.

[safination]

Partners in Death...and Life.

Part I: Radio's not dead

| Part 2: Radio Will Be Dead if He Doesn’t Explain Himself. | Masterlist| ao3 Pairings: Alastor x wife!reader Tags: fem! reader, established relationship, human!alastor, hopefully not but just in case ooc!alastor (I'm trying my best to keep him as canon as possible) acroace!alastor

"Alastor! Pleasure to be meeting you. Quite a pleasure!” One hand reset on his chest, and the other shoots into the air. It’s the bow you did in high school, back when you wanted theater to pay your bills. A performer’s bow. You chuckle. “I don’t think it will be quite the pleasure you think.” “Is that so?” Alastor’s smile remains constant. “And why would that be?” You show him the tray you’re holding. “I’m here to do your sutures.” [Or after a seven-year absence, you find the man you were married to in life, not only back in town, but also helping . . . *checks notes* . . . the Princess of Hell run a hotel aimed at rehabilitating sinners who were sent to the bad place for a reason.]

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

You pass the tissue box—the third one already.

Your patient blows his nose, rubbing snot off his snout. He has to stretch his arms to reach his nose. Alligators are known for their long snouts. His nostrils flare when he sniffles.

Used tissue is discarded on the pastel-pink floor despite a pastel-pink trashcan stationed by his webbed feet. It’s been the same pattern for the last fifteen-minutes. Tissue, Sneeze. Floor.

“—and I have this . . . uh . . . like this real bad itch on my eye. I keep rubbing and rubbing but it doesn’t do shit! My eyesight’s gotten worse—It’s already fucked up but this is just different. My roommate hissed at me about getting blood all-over the carpet floors if I kept scratching my scales. Oh. Oh! I’ve been snee—achew!” Alligator snot lands on the pastel-pink floors of the clinic.

Your eyes twitch.

He takes another tissue and waves it around his head. “The top of my head is killing me. Ya’know where that is right?” He blows his nose. “It’s right here,” he says, inching his head closer to you. “The last nurse I went to was blind as a bat! Literally, she had the wings and everything. It was kinda hot.”

“I’m well aware of the location of your head,” you say. “You can lean back now.”

Tissue. Sneeze. Floor

Tissue. Sneeze. Floor.

Tissue. Sneeze. Floor.

Pastel pink floor.

Underneath the mix of feathers and hair strands, the bustling of the waiting room catches your ears. Someone curses, booming and violent at another waiting patient. A cough, a sigh, a barf. Painful curses erupt after that. You bring a hand to your ears, wincing as your eardrum ring. Pentagon City’s best and biggest hospital needs better doors, but those lazy sloth fuckers at the top invested at the first material they found.

The alligator sneezes into another tissue. He flicks it with his wrist, and it hits the pastel-pink wallpaper adorned with closed eyes. Maybe Belphegor should be the sin of Pride instead, considering all items are covered in her symbol.

“I really feel like t’was those exterminators ya’know?”

You do not, in fact, know. Half of what this young man says is incomprehensible.

His snout sways left to right when he shakes his head. “It’s only my second one, and this was a close call, and uh . . . well, ever since then I’ve been like this. One even got to my roommate. “

You hum, leaning back on your chair. You should petition to for thicker doors. And while you’re at it, better interior design, and better paint—something that isn’t pastel pink.

“Ugh, and it’s so not cool that this new roommate of mine’s been shedding since the day they moved in,” he says.  “Speaking of shedding, do you think it’s because of those exterminators? Do you think they like spread some sort of weird pollen to make us sick? They’re totally the type to do that.”

You take your pen—your pastel-fucking-pink pen—and poke his alligator sinuses.

Hell does have its own brand of humor. You gave your 20s to studying human anatomy, only to die and find yourself with the need to re-learn the boring part of biology.  (Two books on reptiles, four on mammals, and fifteen on sea creatures.)

“YEOWCH!” His teeth stick out again. You do not know what this means.  “What kind of nurse ar—“

“Doctor.”

“—you? That’s not the top of my head!”

You push back on of the feathers on your head. “Your roommate ‘hissed’ at you? And they’ve been shedding fur for two weeks now.?

“Yeah . . . ?”

You stare at him. “Have you ever considered that you’re allergic to your roommate?”

“Ooooooooooh,” he says. ‘Yeah, I was allergic to cats back when I was alive.”

You grab your (pastel-fucking-pink) prescription pad from the desk drawer. “Control it with some antihistamine. Four pills every 12 hours.”

His teeth start showing. You’re not sure if he’s frowning. It’s hard to tell. “Pills, really?”

You toss what you were writing into the massive pile of germs, mucus, and tissue. “I can give you a nasal spray. I’ll flush the mucus then insert a spray that prevents build-up,” you say. “They last for two weeks and then you’ll need to come back.”

He grabs the last tissue from the box. It still lands on your floor. “Ma’am nurse, do you have any more of this?”

You sigh and reach for a fourth box of tissue. “It’s doctor,” you say. “We keep nasal sprays here in the clinic. I’ll just grab one and you’ll be out in fifteen minutes.”

“No can do,” he says. “Before I died, my coach told me to stay away from that non-organic shit. It’ll mess us up real bad apparently. All those steroids.”

“You have phencyclidine sticking out of your coat pocket.”

“Pheny—what?”

“ . . . Angel Dust.”

“The porn star?”

“The drug. You have drugs sticking out of your coat pocket.”

“Come on, nurse—”

Threads erupt from your fingers. It snakes around his wrist, coiling and twisting.

He jerks his arm away and cries out when you tighten your hold. Your threads wrap around his legs. It pulls against his waist. Magic binds his arms, and tightens around every joint he owns.

You stop, only when the alligator struggles, trashing against the clinic chair.  His teeth bare and he snaps at whatever he can reach. You tug on one of the thousands of strings digging into his skin. His jaw snaps shut, and it will stay shut. Another tug and his back stretches to straighten. You move your fingers as if a piano laid before you, and he sits up like a good puppet.

Another month of clinic dury will be your punishment if those sloth from down below are lucid enough to do their jobs.Sadly, killing this idiot would have you suspended for three months.

“I am a doctor,” you tell him. “Do not make me repeat myself.”

The tension on your strings marks even the few scales scattered on his body. He’s a real idiot if he continues to struggle.

Delicate movements of your fingers bring him forward, his back still strained, and tilt his snout at a forty-five-degree angle.

Your threads elongate as you move toward the clinic drawers. It loosens around you, careful at keeping you able to move freely. It’s one of the handier parts of your magic. You shake your hands and the threads detach. It sticks to the floor to keep the alligator as your puppet. You scrub your hands thoroughly before taking the nasal spray and filling with with distilled water.

You place on nitrite gloves. It’s always best when dealing with bodily substances such as mucus.

You place a pan underneath and jam the tube up his nostrils, hosing his sinuses with water. The tension of his binding keeps him still. (If you ignore his whining, then that’s your business. The brawl you heard from the waiting room drowned it all out anyway.) He starts breathing better when all the snot flushes to the pan.

“Finished,” you say with satisfaction. You grab your prescription pad and write one for a nasal spray. “I cleared the mucus buildup so you shouldn’t feel any more headaches. The spray will keep your nose clear for as long as you use it. Come back if you start to feel any discomfort. For the rashes just get cream.” You point at the pastel pink door. “The exit’s right there.”

The threads dissolve in the air. He rubs his wrist, trying to soothe the red marks that your strings bring. You hand him the signed prescription.

He doesn’t close the door on his way out.

The broom and dustpan are hidden in one of the taller cabinets—pastel-pink like everything else in the room.

(Well, not everything. The radio sitting on the corner of the counter gives a splash of red into the room.)

You sweep the tissues into the dustpan. Your control over your strings is much more proficient when living beings are involved. Inanimate objects whip around when you use your magic on them, and radios have been difficult to purchase recently. It’s more convenient to clean using your own hands.

“Tagatha,” you call out when the floor is clean. “You can bring in the next one in.”

Silence is your reply.

“Tagatha?”

Your ears quirk. The noises are faint—an occasional cough, silent weeping, and muted voices coming from the television. You peek out the door, eyeing the crowd formed around the corner of the hall where a pAstel-pInK television mounts on the wall.

The door closes with a faint click. You sink into the cushions of the office chair. Vox’s yapping bore you. It was probably some man-child debate about the new extermination date.

Although . . . those serialized dramas he produces, sadly, are interesting enough to be consumed. If asked for your honest opinion, you’d tell them that they were a hot pile of smelly garbage, but you like to leave it playing mindlessly in the background.

Your husband will throw the television out the window the first chance he’ll get.

Too bad he’s occupied.

You grab a piece of paper from the drawer. Management is forcing you to write a thousand-word formal apology. There are about three-hundred words left to write.

Getting caught dissecting the dead bodies from the morgue is a mistake that won’t be repeated. One dead body and suddenly those lazy fuckers have diligence weaved into their DNA.

The body was already dead, and it’s not every day a chance to poke around a chimera’s entrails appears.

The sinner would contribute to something meaningful at least. You’re stuck on clinic duty until you dot your last sentence, and not a moment before

The coffee’s cold now, but consumable.

You reach across the desk, feeling for the knob of the radio. You twist until you feel the clink. Music fills the air—the same twenty-five songs on a loop. You stare at the radio for a moment. Just . . . a small . . . single moment.

 . . . On your kitchen counter, that second cup of coffee should be cold by now. It’s always cold when you trudge through the door. It’s been cold and untouched for years.

Yet, without fail, that second cup you brew will always be waiting for its owner.

“Salutations!” You snap your head to the radio. “Good to be back on the air.”

Huh? The feather on your hair preens. You swipe the radio, your hold on it feather-light.  You turn the knob responsible for volume. The static noise stings your eardrums.

“—ile since someone with style treated hell to a broadcast. Sinners rejoice!”

Murmurs erupt outside your door. You blink and find yourself slamming it open. One foot after another, one step after the other, brings you closer to the television. Your shoulder throbs when you bump into someone, but you keep pushing until you see Vox and his tacky suit enlarged on the screen.

“What a dated voice!”

A reply comes from the radio. “Instead of a clout-chasin’ mediocre video podcast.”

Your feather rises higher. Laughter escapes your lips, it leaves a dry taste. That . . . that ṁ̵̭͔̲̙̦͎̝̜̲̠͙͇̂̏̃̐̂̓̊̂̕̕o̴̢̭̝̙̤̬͚͐̅͗̌̇̂̌̕ţ̷̛̝̂̿h̶̯̟̙̲̘̟̟͙͔̔̋͊̋̿̐͘͜͜ę̶̗̰͔̫͔̗̝̘̻̰̓̓̈̊͜r̵̨̂̏f̶͖̻̱̺͕̹̫̭̠̚u̸̬̺̯̟̦͖̅̂́́̌̚͝ć̴̖͙̰͈͕̉͌̈́́̈̔̀̉̍́͜͠ḳ̴̨̧̗̫̗͖̞̟̑͌̂̀̈́̀͆͒ę̷̛͓̼̟͍̆̆́͆̾͛͝r̵̹̮̤͓̗̹̈́̎̉͌̾͌̏͑̋̚͝.

“Doctor!” Tagatha screeches when she spots you. “I am so sorry. I’ll bring in the next one right away!”

Your eyes are trapped by the screen and your ears by the radio. “It’s alrig—”

Tagatha grabs the closest person to her and shoves you back into the clinic. The door slams shut just as everything goes dark and silent. (Well, it’s not completely dark, once your eyes adjust you can still see as if the lights were open. Another small perk to this body). Your radio, along with the power, stopped working.

“Oh my!” Your new patient bleats.

“We have generators,” you find yourself saying. “I’m sure the power will come on in a minute.”

The cushions of the chair do little to ease your nerves. You pat your hair, trying to get it in control. A pile of feathers starts forming on the PASTEL-FUCKING PINK FLOORS. T̴̹̜͇̅̅͗͜H̶̰̗̄Ơ̶̡̡̻̗͖̋̎̓̓S̴̨͉̝̻͋̽̆́͆Ẹ̸̡̢͐͐͠ ̷̨͚̞̙̀͒̆̆͊Ŭ̵͕̲̪͇͓͐̚G̷̹̝̦̬͊͒Ḷ̶̭͓̎̏̈͘Y̶͇̟̍̉̚ ̷̟͎͕̞͂͑̂̇À̶͉̍̄̈̚S̸͖̖͕͑̏͛̈́S̶͚̤̼̯̀ ̶̻͆P̷̬̝̉Ä̵͕́͊̌S̸̢͍̆̓͝Ṫ̸͖̲̠̾̉͜͝E̷̺͆L̷͖̏͐́͝ ̶̛̟̽͝P̷̪̔͜I̴̹̥̹͖̮͒́̏͘N̸̳̙̼̾̆̿Ķ̶̟̞̜̉͊̓̂̚ ̵͈̬̃̿̄̈́̋F̵̨̨̼̫̘͘L̸̙̠͎̓̆́O̷̧̘͚͉̤̓O̷̤̟̱̼̤͋̍͐R̷̰̝̓͌̌Ș̵̲̝̈́ “Excuse me?” You will paint this room red with the blood of management.  You tap your foot again, and again, and again. “ . . .Doctor?”

Your neck snaps in her direction, eyes wide and staring.

“The . . . uh . . . the lights are back.”

You blink at your patient—huh, she’s a goat. “I apologize,” you say, smiling. “Please, tell me, what brings you here in this hellish afternoon.”

She holds up her bleeding arm. “It’s been like this since the extermination,” she explains. “Some angle got me. Luckily, I was able to run off before I was finished. I thought it would heal on its own like it usually does but it just hasn’t. It keeps bleeding.”

“Well, angel-induced injuries are my specialty,” you say. Tucked away to the side, a mirror hangs. You catch your reflection, and you blow your hair away from your vision, your red sclerae “This will cost you. Injuries caused by angels are . . . difficult to stitch, but not impossible—not for me at least.”

“Oh, yes.” She bleats one more “Dear God, where are my manners? I’m sorry can I ask for your name?”

Your smile widens. “Of course. I’m—"

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“Alastor! Pleasure to be meeting you. Quite a pleasure!” One hand reset on his chest, and the other shoots into the air. It’s the bow you did in high school, back when you wanted theater to pay your bills. A performer’s bow.

You chuckle. “I don’t think it will be quite the pleasure you think.”

“Is that so?” Alastor’s smile remains constant. “And why would that be?”

You show him the tray you’re holding. “I’m here to do your sutures.” He steps closer to take a peek. You watch him as his eyes gloss over your matches then your needle driver, then the alcohol lamp. His smile wobbles when he lands on the syringe.

You move the tray, dropping it down on the little cart by the examination chair.

“There’s no need to worry.” You beam at him. “I have the steadiest hands in this city.”

“Hmmmm,” he says. “You must be the other doctor then.”

“Not at all.” You point to your uniform, where the initial ‘NP’ is embroidered next to your name. “Just the nurse practitioner.”

He takes a closer look and reads your name. “Then I have no reason to fret. None at all! In my experience, doctors usually have their noses buried in their books. It’s the nurses that actually get the hands-on experience.” Alastor’s hands move when he talks. “What’s such a talented practitioner doing in such a dinged-up clinic?”

“Management caught me in the morgue dissecting the dead—It’s how I practice my stitches.”

“Really, now?”

You bark a laugh. “Not at all—I’m far too smart to get caught.”

“A witty sense of humor and a steady hand! I am in good hands, indeed.”

You take a seat on the rolling stool. “Yes, yes,” you say, waving your wrist. “You make fine compliments, Sir. I’ll be sure to be extra gentle.” You point towards the examination chair. “But, please hurry to the chair. You’re dripping blood on my floor.”

Alastor glances down. His eyebrows furrow as he glares at where the blood seeps from his sleeve . . . almost . . . almost as if he’s angry. “My apologies,” he says, allowing his blood to drip to the floor.

Alastor shrugs off his coat. It’s rare to see such a dark red—only a few choose such a color. You hum. Alastor is a well-dressed gentleman. Lovely. Those are your favorite kind. He drapes his coat over the spare chair, ignoring the coat racks the clinic provides.

You turn away and wheel yourself closer to one of the drawers on the counter. It takes two attempts until you find the stash of sterile gloves. “Take your seat when you’re ready,” you say. “I’ll take a look once you are.” You place the gloves on the little green cart, right next to your tray.

Alastor takes his seat, landing with an audible ‘humph’. He smiles at you, sleeves rolled and arm ready. He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

You hold your palm out. “May I?”

His smile wobbles—it’s a small change in expression that you wouldn’t notice if you weren’t looking. “Of course.”

Along his forearm, a long and sharp cut wounds him. The sight of grime that covers the opened abrasions makes you inwardly cringe. You need to clean these as soon as possible. “Why was this not checked sooner?” You rest his hands on the armrest and use your foot to bring the cart closer. “This looks old, and not at all like a freshly deep cut. I prefer it when patients come to me with fresh wounds.”

You grab a bowl with distilled water and pour in a sterile solution. “I assumed it would heal on its own,” he tells you. “It was quite a surprise when it did not.”

“I need to clean this before you die of infection.” You dip his arm into the bowl. He remains silent, but you feel the tension of his muscles under your fingers. “Hopefully there will be no next time, but just in case, next time, please don’t wait a month.”

He laughs, and there, you faintly see it—a twitch in his eye. “It was only a week actually.”

You smile to yourself. “I’d prefer it if it was only a few hours.” You dry his arm with a soft towel, his arm still tensed underneath your touch. “There, much better.”  You release your hold to go to a shelf filled with different labeled vials and select the one you need. With the clean syringe, you draw the contents of the vial. “You’ll feel a bit of a pinch,” you say. You tap its side. “It’s morphine— wouldn’t want you screaming and writhing”

You study his face for a second. There’s just that same dismissively polite smile.

“You can look away if you wish,” you tell him. “It’s why we pin such . . . er . . .interesting decorations around. . . . May I?”

You feel it again when Alastor inches his arm closer. His muscles tense under your touch. It’s almost as if he wishes to pull away. You keep your hold feather-light, but firm.

“Are you a hunter by any chance?” you ask. You don’t prick him—not yet. Not when tension coils in your hold.

“You could describe it that way,” he says, chuckling like he’s told a humorous joke. (You don’t understand why.)

“I figured you were.”

Alastor slides his glasses up the bridge of his nose. You inject the morphine into his skin, right inside the soft pink tissue. Good. Alastor relaxes when he speaks, it seems. “I do love a good hunt,” he says. “How ever did you know.”

You release your hold and discard the syringe. “Your hands are rough,” you tell him. “And hunters always have this silly notion that injuries magically heal given enough time—along with farmers, actually. Although, farmers are usually much more deluded.”

He flashes that same polite smile. “I'm guessing you’re not a hunter then?”

“How ever did you know?”

You watch his eyes flicker to your palms as you re-arrange the needles. “Delicate hands.”

You flash the same polite smile right back at him. You take a match, and light the alcohol lamp.

Soap spreads all over your palms and up your arm as you scrub your hands. You slip your hands into the sterilized gloves, careful not to contaminate the surface. “I’ll begin now.”

Alastor hums in reply.

You take a scapple and pass it over the flame. You poke him, lightly, but he doesn’t react. Satisfied, you cut back fibrous tissue underneath the skin. You replace the scapple with a needle driver. There was a quiet click when you pinch the tiny curved needle. You pass it over the flame as well. “Can you do me a favor? Can you tell me how many stars are on that wall over there?

Alastor turns to look at you, but you block his eyes with your palm, shielding him from your stiches.

“The wall isn’t over here.”

“I assure you, I’m not afraid of a silly needle.”

“I’m sure you are,” you say. “However, you’ll forgive me if I don’t take your word for it. The last three people who said that took one look and started squirming. One even fainted. It makes your life miserable, and my job harder.

He counts.

“Out loud please.”

He does as he’s told, rather reluctantly.

Hands steady and determination set, you pierce the soft pink tissue with your needle The tissue nearest to the surface is always delicate. You’re certain not to catch any fat in your suture, for fat dies, and a loose stitch is useless. “Well, isn’t this fun!” he says. “I really feel nothing.”

Your concentration does not break. “I don’t remember there only being twenty-six stars. I’m positive there are more.”

“Why is someone as talented as you only a nurse practitioner?”

“There’s nothing wrong with being a nurse,” you reply, tugging on the needle. “Well . . .we . . . we certainly could be paid more.”

“Why not become an actual doctor then?”

“My father couldn’t afford it. He wouldn’t send me . . . and . . . hmm.” You smoothly pull the suture thread and begin the next stitch. “And I enjoy this.”

He looks down at you. “Is this all you’ll be satisfied with?”

You focus back on your stitching, hiding your glare. You bring your needle underneath the flesh, making sure to catch the soft tissue. You’re doing an uncommon stitch, but it would be a shame to leave a scar. “You sound familiar.”

You pause to look at him, His smile brightens, and it actually looks like a genuine elated smile. “Why, I’m a radio broadcaster. You might have heard me there.”

“Oh yes,” you hum, turning back to your stitching. “Alastor . . . I remember now. The ladies and I listen to your broadcast as we do our crafts.”

“Knitting?”

“I personally prefer embroidery,” you say. “I get to practice my stitching and make beautiful art.” You pull the thread and begin a new one, stitching his skin like they were shoe laces. “You’re quite the humorous gentleman, I must say, and quite a lovely taste in music. We enjoy your broadcast very much”

“Do you have any of your artworks here?” he asks you. “I would be eager to see them.”

“Maybe next time.” You tug the suture, and his laceration snaps to a close. You tie a knot and snip the end. “Unfortunately, I’ve finished your stitches.”

“Next time then.”

You discard your gloves and go back to the shelf with the vials. You fill up another syringe. You jam the needle into his skin, not enough to hurt, just enough to scare him a bit. “To prevent infection.”

He jerks away from you. “What happened to that gentle touch of yours?”

“It’s still a sharp object, Sir. They tend to hurt.” You smirk and carefully clean the remaining blood on the skin around the sutured wound. You take a bandage from your cart and begin wrapping it around his forearm, covering your sutures. “Don’t forget to drink your pills every 8 hours, with a meal in your stomach, preferably. Replace the dressing every three days. You can come back here or if you’re able to do so, you can change them yourself. Any by the good God, please, visit the nearest hospital should this incident repeat.”

Alastor slides off the examination chair. He grabs his coat as if you didn’t just stitch him close. You start packing when you notice him fixing his bow tie, and smoothing his hair. Huh . . .There’s blood on his coat, but he doesn’t seem to mind. Like he’s used to having it there. Like it’s just something he’s learned to live with. “You were wrong by the way.”

“Pardon?”

“It was quite the pleasure to meet you.”

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Next Part |Part 2: Radio Will be Dead if He Doesn't Explain Himself| Hello, welcome to the hell that's been plaguing my head. In case you didn't know Belphegor is the ruler of the sloth ring, and she seems to be in charge of medical-related stuff in Hell. I have the story mostly plotted out, it's just a matter of writing it down. If you have any questions, ask away

[gunilslaugh]

Hii. Can you write ot6 early morning moments? I just thought it would be soooo cute to read. 🤍

~ 🦭

Hii 🦭! Thank you for requesting :) Your right this was a cute idea.

OT6  ^ ~ ^ Summary: Early morning moments with Xdinary Heroes. (idol/non-idol au) WC:974 Warning:none

photo not mine credits to owners.

Gunil

Gunil always insists on you using his arm or chest as a pillow. Some mornings that means waking up with a dead arm. However even if his arm is painfully numb he doesn’t have the heart to wake you up. Instead he lies there admiring you, gently brushing your tousled hair out of your face. He doesn’t even care if you left a bit of drool on his arm. 

When you finally do wake up he smiles at you with pure joy wishing you a good morning. He doesn’t even say anything about his dead arm. Only once you sit up does he start to make an effort or return circulation to it. 

“Sorry,” you say, taking over in massaging his arm to help return circulation to it. 

“Did you sleep well?” he asked to which you nod with a hum. “That’s all I care about.” He can’t help but fall even more in love with you as you place a tender kiss on his bicep. He thinks that he could be the happiest man alive if he could spend every morning with you. 

Jungsu

Jungsu always feels butterflies in his stomach on the mornings where he wakes up to your arms that have found their way around his waist while the two of you were sleeping. He can feel the gentle rise and fall of your chest pressed against his back. His heart melts when he feels you snuggle closer to him. Jungsu knows that you care deeply for him, but moments like this where even in your unconscious state that you still show affection to him make him feel so secure. He warmly places his hands over yours that’s holding him. 

“You’re awake?” your sleepy voice questioned from behind him. Jungsu rubs his thumbs over your hand. 

“Yeah, how long have you been up?” he asked. 

“Like a minute ago,” you chuckle. A sleepy chuckle erupts from Jungsu’s chest as well. 

Gaon/Jiseok

“The sun is rising,” you point out towards the horizon. You and Jiseok were out on a late night adventure exploring the city. 

“Come on,” Jiseok smiled, taking your hand in his and leading you to the top of a hill that gave you the perfect outlook of the city. The two of you stand hand in hand on the top of the hill watching as the light from the sun starts to filter into the city. Neither of you say anything, simply enjoying the beautiful moment. 

Jiseok can’t help but avert his eyes from the sight of the blossoming city to look at you. Watching as you also get painted in the sun’s light. Both of you would probably regret not sleeping later, however right now, in this enchanting moment that doesn’t matter. You turn your head to the side, catching Jiseok’s gaze and smile at him. 

Yeah, Jiseok wouldn’t trade a moment like this for anything.

O.de/Seungmin

The sun peeking in through the window going directly into his eyes wakes him from his slumber. He realizes that the two of you fell asleep on the couch while having your movie night last night. You’re still peacefully tucked against his chest, hair having fallen over your face. He debates waking you up, so that both of you could move to the bed, but he’s actually quite comfy on the couch and clearly you are too. He makes the decision to carefully readjust, slipping a bit further down the couch, so that the sun is no longer in his eyes. His breath hitches slightly watching you stir in your sleep. Once you comfily settle back down on his chest he lets out that breath he was holding. He wraps his arms around you, placing a kiss to the top of your head before laying back down and drifting back to sleep. 

Junhan/Heyongjun

Hyeongjun isn’t always the biggest cuddler, but he does like knowing that you’re beside him during the night. Maybe even more than he thinks he does. One early morning you had to go to the bathroom, so you carefully slipped out of bed. Making your way to the bathroom as quietly as possible to not risk waking Hyeongjun. 

When you come back from the bathroom you find Hyeongjun reaching out for you in his sleep. His hand swiping over your side of the bed looking for you. A smile crept onto your face as you slipped back into bed. The second Hyeongjun’s wandering hand found you he could see his body relax. You placed your hand over his that was resting on your stomach. Not missing the smile that spread across Hyeongjun’s lips when you did so. Maybe he is a cuddler, just in smaller ways.

Jooyeon

“Y/n! y/n! Wake up!” You’re jostled awake by Jooyeon shaking your shoulder. You open your eyes to see Jooyeon peering over you. 

“What are you doing? What time is it?” You groggily rub your tired eyes.

“Look how pretty the sunrise is!” he exclaimed, practically pulling you out of bed by your arm and leading you over to your bedroom window. He was right, this sunrise was exceptionally pretty. It was a gorgeous dark reddish-orange hue. “It’s almost as pretty as you,” he comments playfully. You smile, letting out a light laugh and nudge him with his elbow. 

“That compliment won’t get you out of me scolding you for playing video games all night,” you tell him. 

“How did you know?” he asked, surprised. 

“How else would you have been up to see the sunrise?” you remark. He makes a face that shows he knows he has been caught. 

“Still, let’s just enjoy this moment, you can scold me later.” He gives you a back hug, resting his head on your shoulder as the two of you watch the rest of the sunrise together.

taglist: @purplelady85 @gingerjunhan @chewednails @ezlynkisses @mon2sunjinsuver @mxlly143 @seungseung-minmin

comment or message me to be added!

[thebellearchives]

For your event, fluff prompt 13 for gojo satoru please 👉👈

𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓

~ satoru gojo ; jujutsu kaisen

✧˚ · . S Y N O P S I S : you’ve remained silent about your feelings for your long time friend Satoru for a while now, but when he’s the one being silent it’s suddenly not so normal

‧₊˚ c o n t e n t s : gn!reader, fluff, friends to lovers, reader is also a teacher at jujutsu high

‧₊˚ a / n : hope you like this anon because absolutely love how it turned out! i think it’s one of my favourite shots i’ve written!

The view from the classroom’s window wasn’t exactly breathtaking. Your eyes examined the training grounds below, covered by the night sky and the wind blowing through the tree branches. Insomnia had been your most trusted companion for a while, so even though you were tired from the workday for some reason your brain wouldn’t stop buzzing. The classroom’s door opened, a sigh escaped your lips knowing perfectly who had closed it back and walked up to you.

Satoru decided to stand next to you, resting his lower back against the desk just like you had been doing for the past thirty minutes or so. Both of you stared at the calm scenery in a comfortable silence, you wondered how much longer would it take him to start talking but as time passed he didn’t say a single word. Restless, your eyes furtively glanced at him, but he remained silent and holding that characteristic smile of his.

“So?”

“So?”

“Why are you so quiet all of a sudden?” you chuckled, curiously searching for an answer in his hidden eyes.

“What? Can’t I enjoy a moment of tranquility with my dear friend?”

You tried not to show how sour his comment had tasted to you, holding your smile and shifting in your place.

“Yeah, friend” your eyes went back to the window and quickly followed the conversation somewhere else “this friend of mine isn’t usually so silent. In fact, I doubt he even knows what the words “shut up” mean.”

The sorcerer snickered, jumping up and sitting on top of the desk.

“Just say you miss my beautiful voice.”

“Oh Satoru, I’m so glad you’re here, I missed your voice so much” you sat on the desk too, close to him.

“My beautiful voice” your friend corrected.

“I missed your beautiful voice so much!”

“I know dear, that’s why I came looking for you. I have this special ability of knowing when your heart sings for me so I run to find you and bless you with my presence” he leaned back and clocked his head towards you, a cheeky grin on his lips.

“You’re so considerate” you laughed, leaned in closer to him and flicked his nose.

“Ouch!” whining, he rubbed his nose and pouted “I’m so nice to you and you hurt me like this”

“Aww, sorry baby, let me kiss away the pain, alright?” you rolled your eyes, having no intention on actually following through.

“Alright” he grinned again, taking the bandages off his face.

As soon as his white hair fell down on top of his forehead his long lashes flickered towards you, stunning sky blue irises making sure to stop your heart immediately. He rested his weight on his elbow, keeping his undivided attention fixed on you and yours on him. The man was gorgeous, he had always been. And yes, it was probably so cliche of you to fall in love with your long time friend Satoru Gojo, but when he looked at you like that with that playful smile of his and those beautiful eyes there was no stopping the butterflies that fluttered uncontrollably inside of you, that longing for his love that burned deep down in your heart.

“Well?” he rose his eyebrows “where’s my kiss?”

You laughed again, making him laugh along with you.

“What makes you think I’m gonna kiss you?”

“I don’t know, maybe those deeply in love eyes you’re giving me”

Your face flushed immediately, you bit your lip for a second before giggling.

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

His smile never left his face, he just licked his lips as his pupils examined your face and rested on your smile.

"When you laugh like that, it’s just - you're so beautiful, you know that?"

You probably blinked a bit too much, your eyes opened wide. It was normal for Satoru to make frisky flirty comments like that towards you, enjoying all the reactions he could get from you. But this one… this one was different. His fingertips then traced your jawline, guiding you closer to him. And so you followed, as naturally as chasing river flow, heart beating loudly in your ears. He tilted his head slightly, and then he softly kissed you. Lips caressing yours in a loving motion, a bit insistent, just a little bit curious, licking your lips and taking advantage of the surprised gasp you let out to explore your mouth with his tongue for a while. Your hand shakily traveled up his chest and your fingers weakly grasped the fabric in between. The kiss stopped just as softly and delicately as it had started, both of you lingering on each others mouths.

“I knew it.”

“What?”

“I always had a chance, didn’t I?” a sly smirk tugged from the corner of his lips, you frowned.

“I liked it better when you were silent” he giggled, but you smiled and kissed him again.

[banquetwriter]

can u write a smut of an insecure plus sized goth reader x johnnie please? she's a virgin and after being together for a few months she asks him could they do it, and he eats her out n fucks her n stuff 🙏🙏 make it really soft pls and thank u i love ur work btw 🖤🖤

୨୧ Batty love ୨୧

pairing: Johnnie Guilbert ♡︎ goth!fem!Reader

warnings: ୭̥⋆*｡ smut, losing virginity, getting eaten out, general shenanigans

summary: ʚ johnnie isn’t gonna let you being inexperienced stop him from devouring you ɞ

Words: 2234

An: i know this isn't the best but I'm legitimately do sick rn 😞

SUPPORT ME

You haven't stopped looking at your phone for at least two days. Johnnie, your boyfriend, had just hard-launched your relationship for the first time on Instagram. And to your shock, 95% of the comments were so positive. Everyone complimented your goth appearance.

This much praise was addicting. Being plus size meant a lot of insecurities made by the pathetic losers of society. There were of course a few nice comments… those weren't the ones you kept staring at. Criticizing your looks or body.

Johnnie had warned you about this happening, and you promised him the world knowing about you two was worth it, and it was, but god did it hurt. Johnnie Was out streaming with Jake today so that left you alone for a good few hours.

It was useless trying to wait around crying over some loser online who couldn't handle the fact their celebrity crush didn't pick them. You sat up rubbing your face carefully not trying to hit your piercings at all. You scrolled around on your phone’s playlist before connecting to a speaker.

You started to shift through your closet to come up with an outfit. Maybe you and Johnnie could go out tonight? It was hard to get dressed in full goth normally, especially when you weren't feeling good about yourself.

You settled on a long black skirt with silver shiny bats that were sporadically speckled on it and paired it with an ‘i ❤️ emo boys’ t-shirt with a corset. You put your outfit on by pairing your black stockings and fishnet top for your arms.

You sat down at your desk singing along to your beloved playlist. You turned your light on your mirror searching for your hair clips. You managed to locate them by clipping your hair out of your face. Your music was briefly interrupted by a text notification.

You pick up your phone and it is from Johnnie, ‘should be done soon. Just filmed for Jake's, we're gonna do mine now. Probably just dick around Walmart or something. See you soon love 🖤’ you smiled at his text.

You responded back within seconds ‘Have fun filming (but not too much fun without me lol) 🖤🖤’

You sat your phone down, adjusting your shirt, and you started on your makeup. You put on primer, then foundation, the concealer, and to finish your base off you pack on some powder letting it sit on your face. You pulled out your phone and snapped a selfie of your half-done make-up.

You stuck your tongue off a little for the picture. You posted it on your main Instagram story with a goth song of course. Your Instagram gained quite a few followers from Johnnie’s post. It was exciting and also very scary.

You decided the powder baking on your face was about done so you brushed it off. You grabbed your contour brush and packed some onto it. You started to carve your face onto the white base using the black powder.

Now it was time for your eye makeup. It was the hardest part. You spent a good while meticulously adding your eyeliner and eyeshadow. Once you were done, sufficiently looking like a bat, you finished it off with black lipstick and some setting spray.

You put on accessories and teased your hair to high heaven. And you were all ready. You sprayed some perfume on and looked in the mirror. Fuck did you look good. You posed a little admiring yourself, you took your phone out again and decided to take a few pictures.

This time you posted them as posts and not a story so anyone could say anything. It scared you but you couldn't hide forever. You were dating Johnnie and no one could change that.

It took only a few minutes before the comments came rolling in. All of which were positive, it made your heart soar with all the compliments. You were smiling until you read one: ‘Johnnie eating good tonight’ . It was a nice comment and funny naturally.

There was just one issue. You and Johnnie haven't had sex yet, and furthermore, you have never had sex. Ever. Sure you used a few toys here and there but never has another person shared such an intimate moment with you. You had already worried yourself sick about this. Johnnie Was sexually active and therefore, inevitably he would want to have sex with you.

You were ready… you think at least. You wanted to, of course you did, have you seen your boyfriend? He was such a fucking hottie. You had plenty of dreams of ripping his clothes off and going under the covers. You were just nervous.

You did actually weigh a lot more than your boyfriend and no offense to him he wasn't exactly built to handle all you could offer. The nerves rattled through your body. But you were a full-grown woman and there wasn't anything wrong with taking your time to have sex.

If Johnnie didn't understand that (which you're sure he would) then this wasn't the relationship for you. You shook your thoughts of breaking up with Johnnie away. This wasn't a time to worry.

It was only a few more minutes before Johnnie came home. He stepped into your apartment, and he stopped when looking at you. His jaw faltered open. “Wow, how are you mine?” he asked, closing the door, his hands wrapping around your waist.

“From your strapping good looks and charm of course.” you purred, moving a strand of his hair from his face. You planted a small kiss on his now-exposed skin. “Yeah sure,” he murmured against your hair, planting a small kiss on the top of your head.

You smiled at him, your eyes holding each other. His eyes seem to almost darken looking at you. You pull him into a kiss, one he gladly returns. His hands are holding onto your corseted waist. Even through the thick fabric, you can feel him clutching your body.

Your kisses got more heated as he started to move his hands down your body. You had done this with him before. It didn't scare you much anymore. Of course it was nerve-racking, but not scary. His touch felt so nice even if it was through your clothes.

He slowly moaned into your mouth as you gently tugged his hair. “Fuck,” he muttered slowly pulling away from you. He wrapped his hands into your pulling you towards your couch. Your nerves jumped into your throat knowing what was coming.

And yes you wanted to so fucking bad, you needed your hot boyfriend inside you. He gently pushed you onto the couch, you fell back ruining your cute decorative pillows. He positions himself between your legs, his mouth hungry to devour all of you.

You wanted to enjoy him you really did but your heart was pounding out of your chest with nerves. “Johnnie-” you asked quietly against his lips. He pulled back sensing your worry. “We haven't done anything yet-” you started, unsure how to keep going you stayed silent.

“It's fine if you don't wanna, you know, tonight.” he spoke softly, “No trust me I want to. It's just that I've never done that before. I've never had sex before.” you confessed. You could see his eyes widen. You felt like you were holding his breath.

“Woah, really?” he asked, leaning towards you, a small cheeky smile plastered on his lips. “Yeah, not that I’m waiting for marriage or something but I don't know I just haven't yet,” you said shrugging. “That's ok, are you still down to or?” he asks, staring at you sheepishly.

“Of course I am, I just need you to be slow I guess,” you whispered to him. He glances at your lips for a minute, “I can do that.” he says before your lips crash onto one another.

His hand crept down to your ankle and slowly started to run his hand up your legs, he reached the end of your stocking. He hooked his fingers over the clothing and pulled them off your body repeating it for your other leg.

He looked into your eyes as he slipped his hands back under your skirt, hooking delicate fingers over your panties and slowly pulling them off your body. The feeling of his hands on your thighs was sending waves of pleasure to your core.

You've been horny before but nothing compared to the feelings you felt as your boyfriend slowly lowered to his knees. Kissing up and down your legs. “Are you doing ok?” he asks between kisses up your thighs.

“Y-yeah I'm good,” you said quietly, eyes watching Johnnie like a hawk. He smirks against your skin. He slowly pushes your skirt up your body revealing your bare legs. He placed a tender kiss on the top of your cunt.

You swore you could see stars with the amount of pleasure That coursed through you. The end of your fingers and toes felt tingly and cold. Johnnie moved up to face again, he slowly started to kiss you again. “M’gonna move my hand now. Like my fingers ok?” he said against your lips.

“Ok,” you whispered back, and you spread your legs widely for him. He slowly dipped his finger into your sopping cunt. You let out a gasp at the sensation. He slowly pumped his finger in and out of you. It felt good but it wasn't enough for you.

As if Johnnie could read your mind, he pumped out of you once again. When he entered back in he had two fingers this time. It stung for a second or two then pleasure returned to your body as he started to curve his finger into you.

“Oh fuck.” you moaned out, you can guess how people get addicted to this feeling. You felt like a little pervy teenager with raging hormones. The feeling of Johnnie hitting your G-spot repeatedly was sending you over the edge.

“Johnnie.” you mewled out, to nothing in particular. “I need more please,” you begged, having a sense of missing something. “If you insist on it my love.” he pulled out of you, his fingers dripping wet. You watched as he crouched down further.

He kissed slowly on your thighs before reaching your clit. He pressed a soft kiss right on your spot. You felt yourself clench over nothing and it drove you wild. He continued kissing down until he reached your hole. He slowly prodded his tongue into you.

Very gently at first to help you get used to the feeling. You felt the pleasure tenfold as soon as he began to rub your clit, fully pumping his tongue in and out of you. “Oh fuck hold on,” you murmured to him.

He stopped cocking his head slightly. You quickly snap off your corset, immediately releasing tension in your gut. You quickly pulled your shirt off, your bra going with it.

You were now naked minus the skirt bunched up around your waist. “M’fuck.” he whispered looking at your tits. He had what looked like a painful erection at this point. His skinny jeans looked like they were gonna burst open.

“You ready?” you asked him, gesturing to his painfully hard erection. “Fuck yeah,” he whined undoing his studded belt, he started to further undress himself. You followed suit pushing your skirt down.

Once he was completely naked, he leaned down and started to kiss you again. He wrapped his hand around his cock and pumped a few times attempting to get ready for your body. After about a minute he lined up his leaking cock to your entrance.

He slowly pushed into you. You let out a wanton gasp as he bottomed out. “Fuck.” he growled into your ear. He fumbled around trying to find your hand and brought it down to your clit. You started to rub to your pleasure.

At the same time, he started to push into you slowly at first then after a minute he began to push into you at a quicker pace. “Fuck your so tight. So glad I get this pussy all to myself,” he whined into your ear. You couldn't hold yourself anymore. The coil in your stomach was going to snap.

You felt The familiar feeling bubbling in your stomach and your limbs. “Im gonna fucking cum.” you whined out, grabbing at his torso and leaving a long scratch. Johnnie held your eye contact nodding at you.

The coil finally snapped, your walls clenching around him. “Johnnie-” you whined, your back arching. Your body shaking from your orgasm, sent him completely over the edge.

Hit ropes of cum splattered inside you as he fucked you through his own orgasm. Your breath slowly returned back to your body as you saw Johnnie cleaning your body up with a damp towel.

“Are you ok?” he asked quietly, tossing the rag into the laundry basket. He misses but he just took his girlfriend's virginity so he isn't particularly worried about where it landed. “Yeah I'm fucking great right now actually,” you murmured.

He giggles pulling his clothes back on. You did the same, pulling out your phone to see your makeup completely fucked. Your eyeliner and mascara dripped down, the sweat sucking your makeup into your skin, your lipstick beyond fucked.

You pulled out your phone and snapped one last photo for your Instagram

[wayfayrr]

hey uh. if requests r open. would it b possible to request a follow up to that self-aware-twi fic. if not thats ok i just wanted u to know i havent stopped thinking about it since i read it. altered my brain chemistry, touch-starved twilight princess link my beloved, etc etc. ur writing is top-tier <3<3<3

I think the best part about this ask is - I've had this written since early January. I actually wrote part two as a birthday gift for a good friend of mine @glowyskull <33

So this is more just me finally posting it sfbgdfbgdb. it's also funny to think that the twilight fic is my most popular fic now considering how the self aware au really started as just a really guiltily self indulgent fic - something fun to write that I didn't think could get as big as it did on my blog. and I'm glad that you liked it so much <333 whimpery touch starved twilight princess link is just so AUGH love him so

[masterlist]

“Oh you’re finally wakin up then darlin’.”

“...hmm?”

“C’mon darlin’, you can’t have forgotten what happened earlier already? Can you? Your fever - cold isn’t that bad so you can't have…”

Who’s rambling… and why does it sound so familiar?  Wait does that mean - is everything that happened earlier all real then, did link really crawl out of my tv just because he was lonely. Because I left him there, left him all on his own to rot in his own solitude. 

“Link? You - that - everything was real then? All of it?”

“All of it darlin’, from how I got out to how I’m never gonna leave ya.”

“Huh..? I could’ve sworn that you didn’t even mention anything like that…”

“Mhm, well you’re ill and still a little out of it darlin’ so you probably just forgot, you did agree though.” 

It does sound like something that I would agree to, I mean I’m the reason that he’s sentient. It would be cruel of me to throw him to the other wolves, he isn’t from here but besides even that, he isn’t from here. He doesn’t know how this world works, it would be worse than sending a dog to a shelter. It would be his death sentence for certain, and after all that I put him through for a simple pause in playing. The way he’s petting my hair like this though, it’s enough to simply just wash the rest of my worries away, if I could I would spend the rest of my life right here easily.  

“About your illness though, do you have any red potion anywhere?” 

“No, no things like that don’t exist here link and the painkillers I have aren’t worth moving for.” 

“If you’re sure… I’ll go and get them for you the second you change your mind.”    

“You don’t even know where I keep them.” 

His hand paused at that, causing me to let out an involuntary whine. I couldn’t even think to stop it with how it slipped out instantly, which he seemed fond of. Cuddling me closer to his chest and resting his head on top of mine, with what felt like a giant smile on his face. 

“I can look for them, It’s not like I won’t need to learn where everything is now that I’m living with ya… besides I’ve already put you through so much stress when you’re not well.”

“You didn’t mean to link, how could you have known I was sick?”

“...I don’t know - I just - it shouldn’t have been hard to know with how you looked when you opened the game. I’m sorry love I just wasn’t even thinking I just wanted to be out, but I should’ve been more considerate to you.”

With how silent he is in the game you could never have guessed how much he likes to ramble, it’s the second or third time it’s happened since he crawled out of the glas- the glass. Are his bandages holding up, he seems fine but he’s not from here, any infection could be deadly. He wouldn’t even see it coming with how much he’s fawning over my comfort right now. 

“Link?” “Yes, darlin’?”

Oh wow, he - well he’s whipped already. Is it real love or has all that time trapped alone twisted him into this. I’d look into getting him therapy but… if he mentioned the truth then it would be a matter of seconds until he’d be diagnosed with something inaccurate. No one. No one at all would ever believe that a video game character actually broke out of their game - especially not someone like Link falling for an exhausted student like me.

“Are you feeling alright? You have so many cuts and wounds right now.”

“It’s nothing that’s worse than anything else I’ve ever had. They do feel more real though.”

“...real?”

“They feel like real wounds, not something that could be healed away in seconds and they’re just tiny scrapes.”He sounds so giddy as he’s talking about being hurt - it’s unnerving when he starts holding me even tighter when he’s saying it. I don’t think I’m ever going to be getting away from him ever again… if I wanted to. Why shouldn’t I take a chance at having a relationship though. He cares about me - he really does even if it’s unhinged - it would be so nice to come home to him, to be able to spoil him and be spoilt by him. Even being held like this feels so unreal, so impossible that I shouldn’t be here with him. So much so that I want to stay here and fall back asleep without any argument. Didn’t he even say he wanted to be my lover? Why look over a gift too closely?

[moralesluvr]

so i have a few really close guy friends like we’re close to the point where they call me any time of day just to talk and I feel like 42!miles isn’t exactly the jealous type but if his girl had friends like that he would definitely side eye them and be kinda bitchy with his girl if she picks up the phone while they’re together

mine & only mine ft. miles morales

♡ pairings & aus: earth42!miles morales x black!fem!reader ♡ summary: after your boyfriend goes to get food, he walks in your room to see you on the phone with some dudes he's never seen before, and he acts out. ♡ warnings: banter-like arguing, suggestiveness maybe? one use of the n word ♡ a/n: thanks for your request!! ♡ got a request? | masterlist ♡

"I'M STARVING." You complained as you rested your head on your boyfriend, who was scrolling through TikTok while you relaxed in his lap. One of his hands was fidgeting with your coils, twisting them around his ringed fingers as he looked down at you. He cocked his head to the side as you pouted, "Me too, mami. What'chu got a taste for? I'll go pick it up."

"I was thinking wings, boneless lemon pepper?" You asked him, looking up at him with warm eyes. He gives you a nod and stretches, the hem of his white T-shirt slightly riding up, exposing his toned stomach. Smiling, you sit up as your boyfriend climbs out of bed and grabs a pair of shoes, "Bring some lemonade too, please."

He nods, grabbing his wallet before quickly giving you a placement of affection on your cheek, warmth sprouting on your skin as he told you that he would quickly be back with the food.

In the meantime, you sat on your boyfriend's bed as you scrolled aimlessly through social media. You were continuously clicking on 'Copy Link' and sending all the funny or romantic ones that you saw to your boyfriend, knowing that he'd probably end up watching them with you when he got home.

You were happily scrolling until your screen illuminated with one of your friend's names flashing on top. When your eyes scanned the letters that spelled out 'Amari', you found yourself grinning at the device as you clicked the green accept button.

Your friend's face lit up the screen as he waved at you, "Y/N! What's good? Haven't seen you in a hot minute!"

"Dude, I know, it's crazy," a laugh sounded from your throat as you propped yourself up on the bed, conversing with your old friend as he caught you up on the things that have occurred since you left your hometown to move to Brooklyn. He even gives the phone to his mom for a brief moment as you catch up with her, telling her how much you missed them and promising that you would visit in no time.

Although your conversation felt much shorter, it had to be at leas an hour long because you were still on the phone, giggling and laughing when your boyfriend got home. He called you twice to come down and eat with him, but he didn't understand why you weren't answering until he entered his bedroom.

You were propped up on the bed with your phone leaning against the TV, the TV that you were gaming on, Miles' purple controller in between both of your palms. You were laughing about something, violently clicking buttons as you won against whoever you were playing. Until Miles realized the boy that was on your phone screen, a controller also in his hand.

His jaw clenched.

He walked over to you, close enough to where he was in the frame, Amari's vision drifting to Miles and you. You looked up at your boyfriend as he gave you a sloppy kiss, tongue grazing over your lips as he grasped at your waist. A shaky breath left you as you hummed against his lips, before he pulled away from you with a 'pop'. He turned his attention to the screen, "Who the hell are you?"

"Amari?" Your friend questioned, almost as if he was assuming that your boyfriend should know who he was. Miles picked up on that tone and he immediately settled the phone in between his fingers, face all in the camera. He gave him a slick smile, "Ion know how you don't know me, 'cause I'm your friend's boyfriend," he gave you a hard look before looking back at your phone, "You can go now, 'lil nigga. Byeeeee!" He dragged out, waving sassily to Amari before hanging up the phone.

He then turned around to you, "Y/N, who the hell is that and why he don't know who I am? You just out here actin' single now?"

You rubbed your temples, preparing for the argument that was bound to bubble up from your lover. You looked at him with glossy eyes, "Baby, that's my friend. I haven't seen him since I moved so he called. He doesn't know you 'cause we haven't talked in forever."

"He like you?"

"No."

"How you know?"

"He has a girlfriend."

"Oh."

Miles gave you an apologetic face as you flattened your lips at him for acting out. He gave you a kiss on your forehead before murmuring an apology, swearing up and down that he just didn't want you being friendly with boys that probably liked you. He then took your hand and led you downstairs, where your meals were on opposites sides of your dining table, a small candle lit and the lights lower than usual. You giggled, "What's this?"

"An unexpected apology gift," he chuckled, arms snaking around your waist as one of his hands caressed your cheek, leaning into you as his soft lips connected with yours.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 ☻ thank you for reading!

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @enj4i // @chrissytalia // @chaoticevilbakugo // @motheroffae

𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐑-𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓🕷️: @queenesther996 //@sukunas-slutty-bitch // @c3f21 // @wydney // @rinnyisnothere // @brieryann // @moisttowllet // @Dee-m-cee // @liliummz // @starhrtz // @daisydark // @randomhoex // @solanawrld // @whore4hobie // @tanakaslastbraincell // @simp4miguell // @nyrovi3 // @my3tumbles // @aziulsworld // @enchantingfoxsparkles // @mancerseedu // @cafehyunji // @personofyou // @mcdvsr // @kopiivie // @ellatienesuscosas // @venuswash3re // @calliarlerte // @pr0wlerpunk // @tzuyuzzs // @wisepoetrycheesecake // @clearskiiiess // @d3atht3hek1d // @vienreina // @pixqlsin // @caulifloweron // @aizawassimpblog // @stvrgrl // @zerosinterweb // @ishqani // @mookiebut

𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ✎: @Dee-m-cee // @euphorichappiness10 // @adoree-kaelynn // @mhadnirb // @mmst4rz // @iris-theflower // @fleurrieerecs // @kenlani // @kala2022 // @ilyless // @milesmolasses // @laylasbunbunny // @all444miles // @thecoloredpages // @bl00dsuccker // @evacowan // @popeheywardssecretgf

[xtrashmammalstefx]

Chaos Monster & Her English Gent (A Callum Turner x Reader Smut)

Warnings: Smut, language, kiddos under 18 do not interact!

Notes: When I said I've become a total slut for this man and his bf Austin I wasn't fucking around. Lemme know if y'all want an Austin smut/sequel because I totes have some ideas I think you'll like.

Looking back I don’t think any of us expected this to happened. I certainly didn’t and I was the one who had the most to lose if things had gone sour rather than go the way they did.

I’m getting ahead of myself though so I’ll just start where this whole mess began: the first time I visited Austin on the Masters of the Air set. I’d sneaked up behind Austin, my best friend for life and possibly longer, as he was talking to a rather handsome man with the most unimaginably contagious smile. I put my finger to my lips once he’d seen me and jumped onto Austin’s back. “’Sup Elvis!”

“PRISCILLA?! FUCK!” Austin turned and scooped me up. “YOU SCARED THE SHIT OUTTA ME BABE!”

I laughed and squeezed him back. “Well that’s what you get for taking for fucking ever to return my texts you ass!”

“Sorry ‘bout that sweetheart but duty called a hell lot more than I thought it would,” he said once I was back on the ground. “Oh,” he turned back to the smiling man. “By the way, Callum this is my best girl, Y/N, Y/N this is my new best friend Callum.”

“Nice to meet you my handsome replacement,” I said.

Callum smiled nearly bringing out a giggle from deep inside me. Fuck, he is good. “Pleasure’s all mine love, and I am definitely not replacing you. You’re more beautiful than I will ever be.”

Struck dumb by his buttery smooth British accent and killer icebreaker I turned to Austin. “He is a hell of a keeper.”

“Yeah I think so too,” Austin laughed. “So how long are you staying?”

“I’ve taken a week off work so I’m gonna be yours until about Sunday,” I said.

“Oh sweet. Can’t wait to show you off to the rest of the boys, they’re gonna love you,” Austin said as we started towards a couple other guys in period attire.

“Only until they get to know me,” I said. “Let’s see how they react once they see the true chaos monster you know and love.”

“Well, this is gonna be a right interesting week,” Callum said walking on the other side of me.

Of course he wasn’t wrong about that. The next few days were filled with me and Austin being a chaotic duo in front of his cast mates who were also quite chaotic themselves. I’m not sure how or when it started happening but whenever Austin was away either in costume or make-up, Callum and I started to talk. Barry would sometimes be there but most of the time it was just us.

“I’m really gonna miss having you around,” Callum said two days before I was due to leave. We were in his trailer. Austin was busy talking with his manager so I figured I’d bug Callum for a bit. He was changing out of his costume and into civilian wear while I hung out in his make up chair.

“You act as if you don’t have my number and social medias,” I said. “I’m heading home, not dying.”

“Well, talking with you on a phone or in DM’s isn’t exactly the same as having you here,” Callum continued.

“What can you possibly say that can’t be said over the phone?”

“It’s not what I wish to say but rather what I wish to do that can’t be done over a phone call,” he said starting towards me wearing nothing but his boxer briefs which left little to nothing to the imagination.

“And what exactly is it that you wish to do good sir?”

He smirked and started leaning down. “This,” his lips connected with mine. His plump lips were soft and warm as he kissed me. It wasn’t enough to send me off the edge and before I knew it I had my arms around him letting him carry me to the small couch. Once there he pulled back and brought his lips down to my neck. As he left what I was sure was gonna be a massive hickey I reached down and started palming him through his underwear. He groaned at the feeling, his body trembling on top of mine.

“I’m a bit overdressed don’t you think?” I breathed. He smiled and sat up. I reached down and lifted my shirt over my head. He took it from me and tossed it to the side before reaching for the zipper and button on my pants. Not even a minute later I was fully bare in front of him.

“God you’re so beautiful,” he whispered pecking me on the mouth. “So. Fucking. Beautiful.” As he started to kiss me again I nudged at his briefs, doing my best to get them off. Callum got the hint though and pulled them off tossing them with my clothes. I think he could see how big my eyes got at the sight of him for he chuckled softly and said, “Like what you see, darling?”

I had no idea how to answer. If I’d though he was big when flaccid it was nothing compared to how endowed he was when he was hard.

I looked from his crotch up to his face as he continued to look at me quizzically with that smile that didn’t seem to go away. “C’mere,” I said moving from the couch to the floor beside it. He laid himself on top of me sending a shiver through me as his dick brushed my folds, ghosting my entrance. He reached down, gave himself a tug and placed himself there.

“Okay, love?” he asked. I nodded and just like that he was inside me. I clung to him as my body got use to the stretch. Callum cussed a rainbow of curse words in my ear as I enveloped him. His thrusting began soon after.

Turns out Callum is a gentleman in every sense of the word. He kept his movements slow at first, not daring to go faster or harder without my say so. Once the stinging subsided I brought my mouth to his, kissing him harder before telling him, “Harder… I need you to go harder.” With that he picked up the pace, almost slamming completely into me. “FUCK!”

“You’re taking me so well darling, fuck!!” He took me into his arms and slowly lifted me up, still thrusting into me. I held onto him moving up and down as he sat back. I rode him like that for a while until he lied completely back, putting me in charge for a bit.

As I moved my body conscious of the fact that I could see a small bump pulsating in my lower stomach, Callum reached down and started rubbing me with his long fingers. I bit back a scream at the feeling but let him keep playing with clit. It made me feel alive in a way I couldn’t put into words and before I knew it I was riding him like my life depended on it.

We continued like that until I began to feel the pressure build up inside me. “Oh fuck I’m gonna cum!”

“It’s alright, darling, just...just let go on my cock,” he said grabbing my ass and slamming me harder on his length. The pressure continued to grow more intense, until finally I was screaming and tightening around him. As I remained clamped down on his length Callum wrapped his arms around me and flipped us back over so that he was on top.

He continued to thrust as I came down from the most mind boggling orgasm of my life. I was still seeing stars when Callum’s thrusts became sloppy. Suddenly the gentle boy I’d been falling for became beastly, almost roaring as he twitched inside me, filling me up until there wasn’t a single drop left in him.

My body was still shaking, my cunt throbbing, as he pulled out and collapsed beside me.

“That was… incredible...magical even…”

“It was the best damn shag of my life,” Callum said breathless making me giggle. I turned my body to face him and cringed at the soreness between my legs. “You alright love?”

“Mentally and emotionally speaking I’m fucking great,” I said. “Physically speaking...fuck… Callum, I love you with every fiber of my being and will gladly do this again and again with you but god damn I think you just about broke me in half.”

He laughed at that and kissed my now swollen lips. “So, you agree then? To be my girlfriend I mean.”

I looked up at him and smiled. “I’m pretty sure I’m more than that. I mean, I did just say I love you, and lord knows those are words I don’t say to just anybody.”

“Just to the lad who shags your brains out?” I slapped him playfully on his chest. “Only joking darling. I love you too, and I don’t say those words to just anybody either.”

“Just to the girl that rode you and milked you for every last drop of cum in your body?”

“Actually, I believe I just said them to the girl I want to marry.”

“Quite the fast one aren’t you?”

“Only when I know deep down in my bloody heart and bones that I don’t want to do this with anyone else,” he said.

“Alright, but there’s something we gotta do first… Something pretty damn risky.” He looked at me questioningly.

“And that is?”

I looked up and smiled nervously. “We gotta tell Austin.”

“OH FUCK!”

[ghost-bxrd]

“This is where you live?”

Jason drops the duffle bag on the counter, “Yeah. It’s no manor, kid. I told you.”

He’s not self conscious. He’s not. This apartment is fuckin’ nice ok? He spent a lot of money on decor and proper kitchenware and furniture and shit.

But Jason also knows that, objectively speaking, it doesn’t hold a candle to Wayne manor and its fifty-something bedrooms. That place is basically its own country.

Bruce nods.

“I like it,” he says solemnly, walking over towards the window to peek through the blinds. The view from up here isn’t exactly panorama level but the building is one of the tallest in Crime Alley and Jason’s apartment is on the top floor, so it does provide a pretty good view of a good portion of the Alley. “It doesn’t feel as empty.”

Jason pauses where he’s resetting the traps and alarms by the door, glancing over his shoulder to where Bruce is starting to tentatively explore the living space and is struck by how violently out of place the boy looks with his rigid posture and elegantly curved eyebrows. Even the plain hoodie, faded hand-me-down jeans and ridiculous wool cap aren’t enough to hide how utterly not Crime Alley born-and-bred he is. Everything about Bruce is basically screaming rich-Bristol-trust-fund-kid.

Which, yeah. Checks out.

Jason clears his throat and clicks the security on, waiting for the small light at the side to switch from green to red.

“Your room’s the one down the hall to the left. Right one is mine. Door at the end of the hall is the bathroom.”

Bruce hikes his backpack up higher on his shoulder, eyes eerily vacant as always, but Jason wants to think that there’s a sliver of curiosity behind that steely gaze anyways as he inclines his head and makes his way down the hall.

As soon as the kid vanishes around the corner Jason allows himself a moment to exhale and run a hand down his face tiredly.

Jesus fucking Christ.

What was he thinking.

How the fuck is he supposed to raise a tiny Bruce Wayne with his older furry counterpart running around Gotham at night hunting criminals? Criminals like Jason?

Nothing. He was thinking nothing. And it’s about to bite him in the ass.

No way can he build a criminal empire and take over the drugs and weapons trade with a traumatized nine year old dependent on him.

God dammit.