#casual reminder that i'm still not over this

[moody-alcoholic]

Imagine casual dominate with poly 141🤤

They'd never let you lift a finger again🥰

This was the first thing I read when I woke up this afternoon morning. I tried to keep it short but I have no self control... I'm so hungover from my eurovison party so please enjoy whatever this is. I also lost my voice singing to this absolute peice of eurovison history.

CW: +18 content MDNI. dom/sub dynamics, choking, spit (sorry not sorry), sex, restraining, PiV sex, oral sex (M receiving).

_____

“Don't move love.” Johnny says as he presses down on your stomach. You still squirm trying to angle your body so Kyle-who is standing between your legs-can have easier access.

Simon hums, pressing a kiss on your shoulder his hand moves up between your breasts to your neck.

“Johnny's right, keep nice and still for us.” his hand wraps around your neck, locking your head in place.

“keep those hands out the way too.” John says as he reaches down to take your hand off your clit. You whine and shuffle your hips as Kyle's hands run up your thighs. John chuckles and his hand trails down your stomach. 

You’re desperate for some kind of stimulation, anything to quell the throb between your legs. They’ve been like this all night, not letting you lift a finger. Even when they peeled your clothes off, one garment at a time running their tongues over your body and pressing kisses everywhere. 

You quickly pick up that everytime you squirm John’s hand stops, his fingers tickling your stomach as he moves lower and lower. Simon’s hand is still around your neck, gentle pressure that reminds you; you’re not in control tonight. 

You relent quickly, switching to moaning and whining when you don’t get what you want. Johnny leans down to kiss you, he presses his tongue in your mouth, it’s sloppy and needy, almost like he’s trying to drink you up. 

When he pulls away his teeth nip on your bottom lip, it just makes you want more. 

“Make such sweet noises when you're desperate.” Johnny says, there’s a twinkle in his eye and a cheeky grin on his face. His hand trails down to one of your nipples and he pinches it between his fingers. 

You moan for him tipping your head back, Simon moves his hand presses further up your neck holding your head in place. 

“Could do a lot with this pretty mouth.” Simon says looking down at you, you want to nod, tell him you’ll do whatever you want but you can’t. Johnny is still playing with your nipples, running his fingers over them and pinching them as you focus on keeping still. 

A smile creeps on Simon's face as he loosens the grip around your neck allowing your head to lay flat. “What do you think Johnny? Wanna fuck her pretty mouth?” You look over at Johnny, his hands have left your breasts now he’s sat back on his knees.

“Aye, sir anytime.” He says, he’s already shuffling down the bed to your head. 

“What about you, love?” Simon asks, your attention turns to him. “Gonna let him fuck this mouth of yours and come down your throat?” 

Yes, yes, a million times yes. You’re nodding frantically as Simon’s hand leaves your neck. 

“Words, love.” John says, you look over at him and Kyle is still waiting patiently between your legs, running his hands up and down your thighs. 

“Yes- yes please Johnny.” You say breathlessly, it makes Simon chuckle and his hand comes back around your throat. 

“What about Kyle? You going to let him fuck you too?” John asks, his hand finally moving down to your clit. You spread your legs even wider as he presses down to your entrance, teasing his fingers inside as his palm grinds on your clit. 

“Let him fuck you? Fuck you nice and good.” 

“Yes.” You say, the word catching in your throat. 

“Good girl.” John says pulling his hand back up to your clit, your eyes wander back to Johnny who’s stood off the bed stroking his cock in his hand. It makes your mouth fill with saliva. Simon chuckles as you swallow the excess down his hand still gently wrapped around your throat. 

He takes his free hand and you watch as Simon deposits a glob of saliva in his palm before replacing Johnny’s hand on his cock. Johnny moans, and you watch as Simon works his hand up and down smearing saliva and precome down to the base. 

You feel Kyle press the tip of his cock against your entrance while John has been rubbing tight circles on your clit. You want to rock your hips but you have a feeling if you do everything will stop. Instead you tip your head to the side as Simon moves his hand from your neck to your breast. 

“Open up, love.” Johnny says as he grips the base of his cock, you open your mouth and he presses his cock in. Him and Kyle seem to work in sync, thrusting into you at the same speed while John plays with your clit and Simon toys with your nipples. 

It’s almost frustrating how gentle they’re being, light touches or strokes, they’re trying to get you to move. Squirm or twitch under their hands, you can barely focus as Kyle picks your hips up dragging his cock against that soft spot inside you. 

Before you can stop yourself your hand flys down to land on John’s forcing him to press harder on your clit. You hear Simon tutting behind you, his hands leaving your breasts to reach down for your wrists. 

Johnny slows his thrusts so you can look up at Simon who pulls your arms against your chest. 

“None of that, love.” He says, it almost sounds like he’s growling. You look down at John who smiles as his hand leaves your clit and  Johnny pulls out of your mouth, leaving you with nothing but Kyle slamming his hips into you.

You whine, looking up at Johnny and opening your mouth again. John chuckles and you watch Johnny pump his cock in front of your face. John’s hand comes to your chin pulling your face to look at him, he doesn’t say anything, just smiles at you as he presses two fingers into your mouth.

You moan around them, sucking them in and using your tongue to wet every part of them. After a few seconds he pulls them out dragging them down your body, over one of your nipples then back to your clit. 

“Your job is to just lay here remember?” Simon says, you nod. “Lay here and let us take care of you.” He gestures over to Johnny and you turn to look at him, his eyes scrunched closed, his hand squeezing the base of his cock as a fresh bead of precome drips down the tip. 

“Johnny.” Simon calls, his eyes open and he looks down at you, you open your mouth again and he wastes no time pressing his cock deep into your mouth. It makes your eyes water but you don’t care.

“Fuck.” You hear Kyle say, you can’t look at him but you can feel the change in his thrusts they’re faster and uneven. He’s close-grunting and panting. He always gets so vocal when he’s about to come and it sends shivers through your body. 

You clench around him, trying hard not to bite down on Johnny’s cock. Johnny’s the opposite, goes quiet when he’s about to come, closes his eyes and tips his head back. You look up at him blinking the tears away. This time his head is tipped forward, his eyes closed and scrunched together as he rocks his hips. 

You press your tongue on the underside of his cock and he twitches in your mouth. 

“Fuck, love.” That’s what you think he said it’s getting harder to concentrate. John’s fingers are relentless on your clit, but then he pulls them away replacing his fingers with his tongue. It feels like sparks are going off around your body, you moan around Johnny’s cock and squeeze around Kyle. 

“You close, love?” Simon asks, you can hear an edge in his voice. You hum, hoping he gets the idea. He chuckles, squeezing your wrists as your body starts to squirm.

"C'mon then, love. Come for us." He says. You nod as best as you can, you feel John nibble on your clit and it's enough to send you over the edge, you squeeze your eyes closed whining as you come. Kyle comes too, pulsing inside you as his fingers dig into your thighs. You want to cry out, moan with them but Johnny's too busy hitting the back of your throat with his cock.

A second later he comes too, you feel his hot seed squirt down your throat as he stills in your mouth. He waits until his cock stops throbing before pulling out of your mouth and letting you breathe.

Simon, lets your hands go and John pulls his mouth off your clit but before you can do anything Johnny leans down to kiss you. His tounge pressing deep into your mouth, lapping up the remainder of his spend from your mouth.

When he breaks from the kiss you let out a long breath looking down at John and Kyle, trying to catch your breath. When your heart slows you feel Kyle pull out of you and you moved to prop yourself up on your elbows.

John tuts this time, his hand coming down to press on our sholder and you fall back down on the bed.

"What did we say?" He asks leaning over you. "You're not moving a muscle." You don't get time to respond before he presses his lips to yours.

____

I wrote this on 2 cans of redbull, 1000mg of paracetamol and a ginger shot...

[sebastiansluts]

Diamonds and Emeralds

Bucky Barnes x Reader; mafia boss bucky, jewelry store owner reader; daddy kink, mild blood kink, frottage, oral sex f receiving, vaginal sex, size kink, public sex

*pridurok - moron *moya dorogaya devochka - my darling girl *moy milaya - my sweet/my sweet one

ANY HATE WILL BE DELETED THIS IS A JUDGEMENT FREE ZONE DON'T LIKE, DON'T INTERACT; MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 18+

Your heart beat rapidly against your ribs, staring up to the balcony. James Barnes was an imposing figure, walking up to the railing and staring down at his guests, casually placing his mismatched hands deep in his pockets, eyes roving over every person, searching, until they landed on you. His gaze stayed, piercing even from that distance, and you were rooted to your spot. Sweat broke out on the back of your neck, your insides clenching, but you met his stare determinedly. One eyebrow ticked up the slightest bit, then he was jerking his chin up, and suddenly there was the air of someone beside you.

"Miss? Mr. Barnes has...requested your presence upstairs."

You bit your lip, still gazing up at him as you answered. "Now?"

Barnes' lip lifted a hair at the corner, and you heard a sigh behind you.

"Yes, now."

"Fine," you shrugged, trying to hide your shaking legs as you turned away from Barnes and followed his men up the right side staircase to the balcony and into the small but grand room beyond it.

You stood at the entrance to the room, taking in the marble walls and floor, vaulted ceilings and a chandelier hanging in the middle. Barnes was standing below it, one hand in his pocket, the other holding a phone up to his ear.

"Why the fuck are you bothering me with this now? Clean it up and I'll deal with the pridurok tomorrow." Barnes hung up without a word of goodbye, nearly snapping his phone in his metal hand and turned, eyes lightening when they landed on you.

"I can come back, Mr. Barnes-" you started but he cut you off.

"No...no that won't do," he set his phone on a stand holding what looked like a very expensive vase.

"James-"

"Try again."

"Jame-"

"Not this time, moya dorogaya devochka."

Frustrated, you huffed, throwing your hands up in the air. "Well, what do you want me to say?"

James raised an eyebrow, putting his hands back in his pockets. "I'm Mr. Barnes to my security, James to my associates, Bucky to my friends."

"So what are you to me?"

He cocked his head, staring you down, gaze piercing as he murmured, "Daddy."

You huffed again, hands on your hips, cheeks flushing. "James, I don't-"

"Don't bother, doll," he cut off your protest, turning and walking farther into the room, sitting down on a beautiful ornate couch, patting the seat next to him. "You knew exactly what could happen the moment you set foot in this hall, and you came anyway."

You flushed at the reminder. You did know, had hoped even, hadn't you? But now here you were, acting otherwise. But it was more than you had expected, this, this dynamic. And you hadn't actually expected him to really want you. Especially when you saw the ten or so other single, beautiful women in attendance.

"Are you sure-"

James sat forwards on the couch, hands clasped between his legs, metal shining brightly. "I'm going to give you one chance, one, doll, to walk away. But don't ever doubt me or my decisions. I'm sure; are you?"

You glanced over your shoulder past the balcony railing, at the party guests downstairs dancing, knowing their eyes were flitting up to where you were, wanting to be in your position. Then, with a deep breath, you turned and walked towards James. You went to sit down on the couch, gasping when he pulled you across his lap instead. You automatically wrapped your arms around his neck to balance yourself, freezing when he looked at you.

James chuckled gently, brushing a lock of hair away from your eyes. "You look like a deer in headlights. Relax, princess. I'm not gonna hurt you...unless and until you ask me to."

You bit your lip at his words, and watched as his pupils dilated, focused on your teeth worrying flesh between them. "And if I don't ask?"

"Oh, we both know you will. But, I'll never lay a hand to you in a way you don't want or ask for. The day I do is the day everything ends. I promise, you are utterly safe with me, doll."

You couldn't look away from the sincerity shining in his blue eyes, and you couldn't deny the comfort and safety you felt in his hold, the same you'd felt since the day he'd first walked into your small, but high end jewelry store, looking for earrings. You'd originally thought they were for a girlfriend, but he mentioned his sister would be receiving them, leading to a long conversation about family. The next time he came in, it was a necklace he was after- helping a friend, he said, which led to a lengthy talk about his 'best pal' Steve, and you found yourself telling him about your best friend. The third time, he told you to call him James, and he wanted a ring for himself. You nearly fell apart that time, watching him try on diamonds and emeralds and rubies, all on his large, different hands. You knew what they, the metal, were capable of, of course you did, everyone knew who James Barnes was and what he did. But all you could think of were those hands on your body. Especially that dark gray metal one. The fourth time he came in, he invited you to this party, telling you it was black tie formal. He encouraged you to do your research on his parties first, then bought a diamond and emerald tennis bracelet, one of your secret favorites, pocketed it without another word, and left.

And do your research you did. You knew exactly what these parties were for, and you had been eagerly awaiting tonight, this moment.

Your fingers played with the ends of the long strands of his hair, combed back smoothly, pushing your hands deeper as you leaned forwards. You pressed yourself up until you were next to his ear, your hands buried deep in his hair, and you quietly breathed out, "Okay Daddy."

James' reaction was instantaneous. His hands moved faster than you were ready for, the metal one on your back sliding up and into your hair, pulling you back just enough for his head to turn, lips pressing into yours quickly, but gently. His other hand was on your thigh, and he gripped it tightly, lifting you you up until you could swing your other leg around, straddling his lap now. You used your hold in his hair to pull him towards you, kissing him harder, pressing your chest against his. You felt a growl build in him until he was lifting you up, laying you down on your back on the sofa, his hips between your spread legs.

You could feel him, thick and heavy against you, and you wrapped one leg around him, grinding yourself against his bulge. His metal hand grabbed your thigh, through the high slit at the hip of your dress, and he rolled his hips once, hard. You tore your lips away from his, gasping, and he moved across your jaw, down your neck to your breasts, shaking as you trembled.

"Please!" You begged, pulling at the thick strands of hair in your hands, aching for James to kiss you again, but he just sucked a mark into your chest, marking you as his to own. You shuddered at the thought, whispering, "I'm his."

James froze, just above you on his forearms, his hands cupping your face, your foreheads nearly touching, his eyes slowly leaving the mark he had made and catching your gaze.

"Say it again."

"I..."

"Say it, again, moy milaya."

"I'm yours."

James' eyes turned feral as he crashed his lips to yours. You could taste blood but didn't feel any pain and realized you had cut his lip. You could tell he didn't care and you moaned, sucking on his split lip, making him groan. His metal hand went back to your thigh, slipping across the front to cup your pussy. You gasped and he pulled back, his eyes flashing, sporting a bloody grin.

"Say it again, princess."

"I'm yours, Daddy," you grinned back, then frowned when he pulled away entirely, kneeling above you. He undid the buttons of his suit jacket, revealing a cummerbund, which he took off and tossed to the floor, and a pair of suspenders, that he left on. You bit your lip again as James undid his pants, exhaling roughly as he pulled out a long, thick cock, huge balls spilling out after.

You pushed up onto your elbows, teeth on your lower lip again as you stared at his cock, hanging big and heavy in front you. James reached down, slowly stroking himself a couple times.

"Show me what you like," James murmured, voice low and soft, but commanding, leaving no room for argument. "Show me exactly how to pleasure you, princess."

You flushed bright red at his words, stammering out, "I- I usually use a- a-"

"Ohh moya dorogaya devochka...Daddy's gonna take such good care of you," James promised, one knee on the couch bracing himself, as he pressed back down on top of you, his dick and balls laying against your bare thigh, making you shiver. "Daddy's gonna show you how pathetic those toys are, never gonna need one again doll."

James pressed his lips to yours again as his right hand cupped your pussy. When he slid his tongue across your bottom lip, he slid one fingertip across your lower lip as well, just through your panties. You moaned in anticipation, wiggling your hips for more, but James just gripped them in his metal hand, holding you still.

"Let me explore," James murmured against your lips, and you smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck, sinking into the kiss as his tongue wove around your mouth, his fingers stroking patterns across your panty-covered center.

When one of James' fingers slipped between your folds, you moaned loudly, instantly flushing and cutting yourself off as you remembered his men standing outside the room, and everyone else just beyond it. James let his finger slip out of you to reach up and grip your jaw, holding it steady while he gazed into your eyes.

"Never hide your voice from me, no matter the sound it makes," James said solemnly, and you inhaled quickly, smelling yourself on his hand, and released the exhale on a wanton moan. He relaxed his hold on your jaw and a rush of words left you.

"Fuck me Daddy, please, I wanna feel you, wanna know you, wanna be good and bad and everything for you," you pleaded, and you felt him grow harder against your thigh as he buried his face in your neck, biting down on the juncture where it met your shoulder. He soothed the light sting with his tongue, kissing your skin down your breasts, across your satin covered torso, until he was kneeling on the ground, his face at your still-covered cunt.

"Gonna fuck you princess, don't you worry. But Daddy wants to hear you first," James said, inhaling deeply, his hands sliding up and down your thighs, slowly easing them further and further apart. You flushed, but he groaned, "Moy milaya," low in his throat and pressed his face against your center, taking sharp breaths. You whimpered as his lips pushed against your wet panties, slipping apart to let his tongue trail across them. A growl tore out of James and suddenly his hands were leaving your thighs to grip your underwear, then there was a loud tearing noise and you stared down in shock as James pocketed your ruined panties.

Before you could recover, his lips were pressing against your folds in the dirtiest kiss you could've imagined. Your hands flew to his hair, gripping it tightly as you keened, James' tongue slipping inside you, his nose bumping your clit. He groaned into your cunt, vibrations traveling up inside you, making you shiver and tense, trying to pull him closer.

James went willingly, smothering himself in your pussy, holding you up by your ass, fingertips digging in hard. He pressed his tongue deep inside your cunt, stroking your inner walls and you tried to rock your hips against his face, your legs splayed over his shoulders.

"Oh fuck! Daddy, don't stop, don't stop, feelsso good, mmm, Daddy oh my god mhmm," you moaned, James licking at your pussy like it was the best treat he'd ever had. You couldn't stop moving, your body rolling and your hands tugging at James' hair, ruining the smooth style.

James took his time eating you out, building you up on a wave, then letting it recede somewhat, only to do the same thing again and again. Until you were panting, half-crazed with want, begging and pleading to come, saying anything and everything you could think of.

"Daddy please, 'm so- I can't- been good, please- needa come," you babbled, half started sentences stuttering past your lips. You no longer cared about anyone hearing you, so desperate for pleasure, your voice filling up the space, covering the sound of the music from downstairs.

James leaned back, face red and wet with your slickness, eyes alight with excitement and lust. You wailed, hands immediately leaving where they had been massaging your breasts, going to reach for James, but he got to his feet, kneeling on the couch with your legs still over his shoulders, his messy hair tickling your smooth, bare legs.

"Needta feel you come on my cock moya malyshka," James muttered, pressing kisses up along your calf soothingly, even as he dragged his cockhead across your cunt, spreading your wetnes and his together.

"Fucking fuck me then!" You cried out, squealing as James thrust in partway immediately, stretching your walls, then pulling out, only to drive back in deeper. He repeated the process, inching his way in with every thrust, until you were nearly crying with desperation.

"Daddy please! I- I'm s-sorry I yelled! I just wanna feel you, all of you Daddy, need it, wanna choke on it, let me feel it all-" You cut off on a whining exhale as James pulled out most of the way, dropped one of your legs to the side, got a good grip on your thigh, and thrust fully inside you, his balls slapping your ass.

"Oh fuck!" You screamed as he bottomed out, grinding deep, lighting up multiple places inside you and making your fingers and toes tingle.

"Moy milaya," James said reverently, but strained, through his teeth. His left hand was gripping the back of the couch so hard the wooden edging was cracking and splintering. His other hand was still on your thigh, keeping it up as he began rocking his hips, slowly slipping in and out of your cunt, hisses and curses leaving his lips.

"Fucking perfect, this pussy. Tell me I'm not hurtin' you, so fuckin' wet and tight princess," James ordered, and you were only too happy to oblige.

"You're so big, Daddy," you groaned, biting your lip and grinning up at James as his eyes focused in on it. "Feels s'good, give me more Daddy."

James' eyes darkened at your words, and he began thrusting deeper, harder. As he added more power to his thrusts, you felt yourself spiral higher, tension tight in your core, nearly about to break.

"Gonna give it to me princess? Come on moya dorogaya devochka, you can do it for me, now...come," James said calmly and evenly, despite the way his hips were rolling against you.

Your eyes were locked onto James', the blue nearly eclipsed by the black, a fire blazing deep inside them, one that burned for you. You couldn't hold back the cascading wave of pleasure that thought brought as his cock stroked every good place inside you.

You came slowly then all at once, like a wave building and then crashing onto the shore, leaving you feeling disoriented after. Your eyelids fluttered, trying to meet James' eyes.

"D-Daddyy," you moaned, your body feeling heavy and sensitive. James didn't stop moving, fucking your mostly limp body, kissing the inside of your knee.

"What do you need princess, did so well, such a good girl," James murmured, and you sank deeper into the cushions, a smile spreading across your face.

"Need you," you whimpered, trying to reach for James, but your arms were too heavy.

"Y'have me, moy milaya," he responded, but he pulled back, resituating the two of you so you were straddling him again, his dick deep inside you as he sat on the couch.

You buried your face in James' neck, breathing in his scent, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders, lightly chewing on his bowtie. You startled when he stood up, dick still inside you, and carried you across the room, to the balcony, and set you on the railing.

You wrapped yourself tighter around him, as James grabbed your hips and began rolling his against you. You started to whimper as your sensitive pussy began to get tingly again, your cunt clenching on his cock.

James raised his left hand, metal gripping your hair and pulling your head back from his neck. "Look at them, see them staring at you princess, d'you know that they all want you? But they can't have you. Why can't they have you, huh, moy milaya?"

"M'yours," you mumbled, cheeks flushed bright red and tears in your eyes from the need to come and the exhibitionism. Your head fell back as James returned his hands to your hips, keeping you safely on the balcony railing.

"Tha's fuckin' right, you're mine. Scream it princess, let everyone here know who owns you."

"Daddy! Please! I'm yours, I'm yours, I'm yours!"

"Good fucking girl," James groaned, and you knew he was coming, deep inside you, the way his hips stuttered and pressed into you hard. As he ground against you, his hipbone pressed up on your clit, rubbing it back and forth. That pressure set you off, screaming your release as you threw your head back, James throwing a hand to your back to keep you upright, pressing you into his chest, connecting you further.

Your head went a little fuzzy after that, your body heavy and twitchy. You knew your arms and legs were around James, your face back against his neck, one of his hands against your head, the other supporting you under your bare ass. Then you were in the back of an SUV with James, still in his lap, but he was on the phone, speaking quickly in Russian. Then you were on the softest bed ever and James was wrapped around you, and there was a diamond and emerald tennis bracelet on your wrist, then you were gone to sleep.

[april-diariees]

her ghost still lingers...

one text from you and two years down the drain it's been so long and your like on my story only reminds me how it was never a choice that if only you wanted to stay i would never have walked away

one text from you and I come limping back waiting for you to reply just like i did back then how am i not used to the disappoint yet why don't you just let me be

one text from you and I'm wondering can we ever be the same again? but this time I'll make sure- make sure to not fall for you make sure to not ruin things

one text from you and i forget why I left how hard it was and how much I cried you act so casual but i was never the same again

one text from you and i am reminded how I don't care that you're with someone else I'd settle with just being you friend

one text from you and i know I'll go crawling back beg you to let me stay i won't ask for anything just tell me how was your day and all the things that made you smile just let me hear you, say my name

one text from you and once again im wondering will i ever, ever really get over you?

[blessedbucky]

ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕏𝕀

pairing: autistic!satoru x suguru x autistic!reader

word count: 16.7k (yapper of the year right here!)

summary: your first date with Satoru and onward

tags: autistic!reader, autistic!satoru, FLUFF! ROMANCE! with a lil bit of seriousness sprinkled here and there; two new guests join the cast! you'll never guess who they are; more awkward first times because not me having reader take suguru and satoru's virginities lol; giggly and sappy sex!

beautiful people who asked to be tagged 💕: @ichikanu, @iceheartsice, @anders-is-being-a-simp-again, @lexlibrary, @ziggy0stardust

author note: i've completely given up and accepted that i'm gonna do this year by year until the prologue/present which is 2012. it might be a little while before the next chapter because i promised myself and my MCU girlies that i'd get out the next chapter of my MCU trio story after i posted this. just as a reminder that you're more than welcome to send me messages on here, headcanons, questions, and prompts that maybe i can get to. feed my praise kink with reblogs and comments and likes please and thank ❤️

Story Masterlist

[2009]

“Things might be a little awkward when Satoru comes over,” you warn Suguru when Nanako and Mimiko are out of earshot. The three of them are helping you unpack things. Well, Suguru is. The girls are in the second bedroom with tape, their drawings, and other little knickknacks. You warned them that Tsumiki and Megumi would be sharing it, too, and potentially decorating it with their own things, but that didn’t deter the twins whatsoever.

Suguru, folding your clothes the way you like, stops to stare at you with wide, horrified eyes. “Oh, no. Did you reject him?”

“No, of course I didn’t! I said yes!” A minute passes, your brain processes, and you narrow your eyes at him. “Wait. Did you know he was going to ask me out on a date? How long has he been planning this?”

“I started actively encouraging him to go for it since that marriage proposal, but who knows how long he’s been wanting to do it before then.” Something about how…casually Suguru speaks about this…stings a little. It shouldn’t…right? What’s causing this twisting in your chest? “Don’t make that face at me. I think we were allowed to keep this one thing a secret from you.”

Right. Right, yeah, that’s what it is, isn’t it? You feel left out. That…still doesn’t feel right, but what else would it be? Suguru knows you better than yourself, sometimes. He’s always been able to put into words what you’re feeling. “I’m shocked he didn’t do it immediately after the proposal,” you say while trying to laugh off your discomfort. “You know Naoya set the date as his birthday on purpose.”

Suguru sighs wistfully. “I really wish I mauled that asshole with a curse when I had the chance.”

“Suguru,” you try to scold but end up giggling instead. “Don’t waste a good curse on that guy. Besides, turning down the proposal through a letter was more poetic, I think.”

“More offensive, you mean,” Suguru corrects with a smug smirk. “I’m so proud of you for standing your ground like that against your parents and those arrogant assholes.”

“I’m shocked they didn’t make some backroom deal behind my back, honestly.”

“I know this probably isn’t something you want to hear, but you get your stubbornness from your father. Satoru really dealt a huge blow to his ego with that implication that they were only in it for the money. He didn’t want to prove Satoru right,” Suguru hypothesizes.

You pause in your unpacking, blinking in disbelief because…he’s right. “That makes sense, actually,” you mumble. “Wow. It’s crazy how well you know my family.”

“It goes both ways. I overheard you and your mother, y’know.”

You stiffen before trying to relax your body in feigned nonchalance. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

Suguru laughs. “You don’t have to pretend. I’m not upset.” You sigh in relief, immediately dropping your bravado. “You fold so easy, Squid,” he snickers. You throw a pair of pants at him, but he easily catches them. “I’m honestly not sure what I would’ve said to her if she asked me.”

The conversation in question had been when your parents stopped by at campus one more time before they went back to your hometown. Before he stalked off to talk with Satoru and Suguru, your father explained that he told the Zen’in clan you’d make your own decision and inform the clan in due time.

Privately, your mother told you that Suguru’s own parents had been over to your childhood home more and more frequently, practically begging your mother to get Suguru’s phone number from you so they could talk to him. Suguru’s mother had an accident in the field and can’t work. They’re on harder times than ever and your mother said that it would really cheer them up to hear from Suguru.

And like Suguru said, you know his parents as well as he knows yours. You saw through the bullshit but gave your mother the benefit of the doubt—even though she’s even bigger than your father on the belief that children should be responsible for taking care of their parents, no matter what.

So, they’re in trouble and need Suguru to bail them out, you translated when she was done with the sob story. You had absolutely zero sympathy for them. If he wants to talk to them, he knows how. You’d gotten petty with her, then. I’m not getting involved and you shouldn’t want to, either. That’s what you taught me, isn’t it? We don’t want to poke our noses in the business of other families.

“That’s stupid, isn’t it?” Suguru asks with a bitter smile. “Why would I say anything other than no? Last year, they were one of the first ones that I thought about…seeing…after we found Nanako and Mimiko…”

Seeing, he says, but he means killing, doesn’t he? You can’t say you blame him. If you’d had better control over your technique when you were younger, you’re not sure what you would’ve coerced spirits into doing to his parents. “I don’t think that’s silly,” you tell him honestly after thinking about it for a minute or two. “If Satoru didn’t step in, I was about to let my parents walk all over me. And…I don’t know…it’s complicated.” You sigh in aggravation over not being able to find the right feeling. “Maybe it’s just me, but you always want to try and see the best in people, especially your parents.”

“It might be just you. Maybe. I don’t think there’s much good to be seen in them. But I…they always make me feel small. Just your mother mentioning them made me feel that way. Your father wasn’t helping, either.”

Ah. That reminds you of something you forgot to ask. “What did he want with you?”

“I’m not sure it was me he even wanted. He probably wanted to lecture Satoru, but after he gave Satoru his card back, Satoru wouldn’t let him get a word in. I never thought I would see the day that the Gojo Satoru would have enough of a moral high ground to give someone else a lecture, but here we are.”

“No wonder he was so pissy when he came to collect mother…”

“Satoru’s protective, isn’t he?” Suguru ducks his head, smiling softly as he says that. It’s tinged with something, though.

“Why are you upset, Suguru?” It’s bitterness. Maybe sadness. His eyes widen, so you know you’re right. “Is it because you didn’t say something? You know you don’t have to feel guilty about that,” you rush to assure him. “You know the rule. Satoru doesn’t. Just because we’re technically adults now doesn’t mean our parents can’t still make our lives difficult. Mine, anyway. My father’s probably going to give me an earful when his pride has recovered a little.”

“It’s…a little bit of that,” Suguru says after a beat. It feels like a lie, though. His smile is still strained and it’s not reaching his eyes. “I wish I could protect you like Satoru can.”

“You do,” you insist.

“That’s why I told him to finally confess.” Suguru completely ignores your comment. “Satoru is as good for you as you are for him. He understands you in a way that I’ll never be able to.” You start shaking your head which makes him barrel on. “It’s the difference between sympathy and empathy. I’ll always be sympathetic for you, I can know your moods and the things you love and hate, but only Satoru can truly empathize with you.” He looks at you, expression softening, and rushes over to take you in his arms. “Squid, don’t look so devastated.”

You lift your arms up between your bodies, trying to wipe away the tears that are welling up in your eyes. “I don’t want you to feel left out.”

“You’re so silly. I’ve never felt like that before, I’m not going to start now.” You press your forehead against his chest, sniffling and trying to calm down before you really get going. “All I’m trying to say is that I want my two most favorite people to be happy and taken care of and I think the best person to do that for them is each other.”

“When you say that it makes it sound like you’re leaving us alone,” you admit.

“The way I feel about you two isn’t going to change, trust me.” He keeps rubbing your back soothingly. “This isn’t the right time, but this is really reassuring for me, y’know.” You tilt your head up, digging your chin against his chest, blinking up at him with watery eyes. He grins shyly. “I know I’m never going to be left behind.”

“Never,” you promise. “You’re our favorite person, too.”

Suguru cups your cheek, sighing softly. “You’re too sweet for someone like me, Squid.”

You miss his touch when he goes.

Date Day arrives.

You still haven’t decided on what the fuck you’re going to wear.

Shoko, who is way too invested in your love life, comes to your rescue, bright and early. The visit is disguised as helping you finish unpacking and settling into your new apartment, but it’s bullshit. She knows that you know it’s bullshit. First of all, she knows it’s Date Day. Secondly, the moment you shut the door behind her, she manhandles you back to the bedroom to help with your hair.

“There’s no need to do all this,” you mumble petulantly while watching both your reflections in the mirror she has you seated in front of. The previous tenant left one of those floor length mirrors on the back of the door. You’re cross-legged on the tatami mat with her on her knees behind you. “It’s just Satoru.”

“Oh yeah?” Shoko pointedly moves her gaze to the reflection of your bed and the clothes strewn across it. “If that’s the case, why are you so worried about your outfit?”

You harrumph and turn your head away, not wanting to admit she’s right. Only half-right, though! Because, in your head, there’s this pendulum that continually swings between this is just like any other normal day with Satoru and this is absolutely not a normal day with Satoru because he likes me, and this is a date. Giddiness and nervousness had you tossing and turning the whole night through. You’re desperately trying not to overthink everything and you’re proud to say that it’s mostly working.

“I don’t even know why you’re so excited about this,” you say as a deflection.

Shoko puts her hands on your temples, forcing your head back to position, before continuing with your hair. “I can’t be happy for my best friend?” You drop your eyes down to your lap, fiddling with the hem of your shirt, but it doesn’t stop the happy flutter in your tummy at being acknowledged as her best friend. It always does that when Shoko says best friend. You’d think you’d be over the novelty by now. “And I need to keep rubbing it in your face that I was right. The only thing as big as his ego is the crush he’s had on you. It’s been four years of pining, Duck.”

“It hasn’t been that long!” After a second of thinking, you doubt yourself. Clearly, you haven’t noticed the signs and were totally blindsided by his confession. Hesitantly, you ask, “…has it really?”

She laughs. “Yes, really. Halfway through second year, I started a betting pool on who’d confess first. Even Sensei put money down on it, but he made me swear to never tell anyone else.”

“You’re literally telling someone right now—” your brain finally catches up on what she just said, and you start sputtering. “Stop using my love life to make money!”

“Consider it financial compensation for all the ridiculous romantic tension.”

Where’s mine for the tension between you and Utahime, you think but refuse to speak aloud. The tension between them was so horribly awkward at graduation. Even Satoru didn’t pester Utahime like he usually does…but he might’ve been too nervous to do that with the planned confession and all. Anyway, Shoko remains resolute in her resolve to keep Utahime distant—not for a lack of trying on Utahime’s part to bridge the divide.   

There’s some hope yet, though. Utahime brought gifts for you and Shoko. Yours was a set of new sketching pencils. Shoko’s was a new lighter. Shoko didn’t outright reject it. Instead, she left it behind in a classroom. You’d found Utahime with it, tears in her eyes and looking so miserable, so you took matters into your own hands. You pointedly left it by her pack of cigarettes when she was moving into her new apartment.

It’s the only lighter that Shoko uses now.

“Hair’s done,” Shoko announces. You awe over her work, careful not to touch it for fear of messing it up. She shoots you a smug smirk in the mirror. “I’m gonna go two-for-two and find you an outfit.”

Find you an outfit she does.

You swing your arms from side-to-side, watching as the pleats of your black pinafore dress swish with the movement. You’re wearing a simple long-sleeved white shirt under it. There’s even a cute little bow at the waist. It’s been sitting in the back of your closet ever since you got it back during your second year. You’d bought it during a shopping spree with Utahime in Kyoto. Your brain hasn’t let you wear it because you haven’t had any occasions it deems special enough.

Today is definitely a special enough occasion.

Shoko probably planned this, but she keeps you distracted in the chunk of time between when you’re done getting ready and when you’re buzzing Satoru in the building. She settles in with the new laptop that her parents bought her as a graduation gift, and you know she’s going to be spending the night. She says as much when you announce Satoru’s on his way. She needs to know how the date goes.

In the genkan, where Shoko can’t see you, you have to take deep breaths before opening the door for Satoru. And put a hand over your heart, like that’ll make it slow down. It’s just Satoru, it’s just Satoru, it’s just Satoru, you chant to yourself over and over inside your head.

It’s just Satoru and…he looks very handsome.

Oh, no.

This is like your second year all over again when your body decided it was time for a sexual awakening.

It’s not like you haven’t been aware that Satoru is attractive. But it always felt…forbidden, somehow, to think of him like that because he was your best friend. It’s easier now. You’re allowed to look because it’s you that’s doing it and Satoru likes it. He likes you. You can openly let your gaze roam over him in his denim jacket with the plain white shirt underneath, dropping down to his jeans and nice shoes.

And you think he likes when you look at him the way you are because he’s grinning when your eyes finally move back up to his face. “Like what you see?” Satoru asks with a waggle of his brows.

Knowing it’ll fluster him, you bluntly answer with, “Yeah.” It’s pleasing to see how red his cheeks get. As you’re slipping on your shoes, you call out to Shoko. “I’ll text you on my way back about what you want for dinner!”

“Okay!” Shoko calls back. “See you later!”

“What’s Shoko doing here?” Satoru asks after you close the door behind you, having recovered from your flustering him.

“If you asked her, she’d probably say something like we did girl things. If you ask me, she made me into her own personal little doll.” You pause to spread your arms out and do a little twirl. “How do I look?”

When you stop, he’s flushed but grinning. “Like the most beautiful little doll in the world. I can’t believe you got all dressed up just for me.”

The compliment has the back of your neck prickling with heat. “Jeez, you don’t have to lay it on so thick. I’m already here on the date with you.”

“It’s not laying it on thick,” he denies with that cute little scrunch of his nose. “You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever met. Now, I’m allowed to tell you without it being weird. Get used to it.” He leans forward a little, getting all up in your space, poking at your cheek. “And if we’re on a date, what’s with that homewrecker in there getting to have dinner with you? What if I planned a whole day full of date stuff, huh?”

“I am not doing a whole day of public things.”

“Maybe I planned to cook you a four-course meal for dinner tonight.”

“Cooking for me implies you’ve completely unpacked. Last I checked, you were too busy putting your figurines in their designated places and eating takeout. Has that changed?” He crosses his arms over his chest, that scrunch in his nose only getting bigger. “That’s what I thought.”

“I regret this.”

“Watch it, Gojo. You’re being scored right now and it’s getting reported to Shoko when I get home.”

“Eh? Is that why she’s really at your place?” Satoru rolls his eyes. “Why can’t she worry about her love life?”

“Shoko wants to pretend there is no love life.” You sigh, your worry for Shoko blowing all the wind out of your sails. “I just really wish one of them would tell me what happened between them. In more detail, I mean. I know Shoko got too drunk and confessed and then Utahime rejected her, but…Shoko doesn’t seem like the one to hold a grudge about that.”

Satoru hums before oh-so-casually dropping, “Probably has something to do with Utahime not being out to her family.”

You’re so stunned by this piece of information coming from Satoru that you almost slam into a light post. It’s only because of him grabbing your upper arm and pulling you out of the way that you don’t. “What? Huh? How—” he blinks owlishly down at you, like he’s confused that you’re confused! “How do you know that? I don’t even know that!”

“I’ve known Utahime since we were kids. Have I not told you that?”

“What the hell? No!”

“Oh. Uh, well, surprise! She was always in my ear about how I needed to take my etiquette lessons seriously or else I’d be a shitty clan leader. Man, she could get downright nasty with her critique.” He’s back to pouting when he realizes, “Aw, c’mon, have you thought I’ve been a dick to her this whole time for literally no reason at all other than she’s weak? How lowly do you think of me, Sketch?”

“You tormented poor Kiyotaka mercilessly last year.”

“It was some very light bullying to get him the hell out of sorcery. That guy had one foot in the grave and—hey! You’re on first name basis with that guy already? What’s up with that?”

“Focus, Satoru, please.”

“Ugh. Fine. Whatever. Yeah, I’ve known her a long time. Her clan is super useful because of their technique, so they’re buddy-buddy with the big clans. Just like all the old clans, they’re traditional as hell, and she’s an only child. Eh, I think I heard a rumor that there’s an engagement in the works between her and a Kamo. Who knows the hell she’d raise if she threw that all away to live in sweet lesbian bliss with Shoko?”

Your brows furrow. “Shoko is actively making plans to cheat her way through medical school. Being the mistress might make her a little sore, but…she doesn’t seem like the type to have that be a dealbreaker. She really loves Utahime.”

“Yeah, it’s probably that Utahime is too noble to let Shoko be the mistress. She’s a goody-two-shoes like that.”

“Goody—” you scowl at him. “Don’t make fun of her for that!” The dynamic between Utahime and Satoru makes a lot more sense now. You understand why she always turns down your offers to make Satoru back down. She gives back as good as she gets, but this isn’t a time for him to make fun of her. “That is noble and kind of her!” You think of a way to make it more relatable to him, to help him really understand her plight. “That would be like you making Suguru be your dirty little secret while you’re married to me. Do you think Suguru deserves that?”

Satoru puts his hands over his heart, batting his lashes, gasping dramatically. “Talking about marriage already? I’m swooning, Miss Sketch!” You stare at him, deadpan, mentally begging him to take this a little more seriously. “What? That’s the only realistic part of that scenario! There’s no way that I’d keep you or Suguru a secret. It sucks that I couldn’t legally marry you both at the same time, but I’d definitely have a ring on both your fingers.”

“My hypothetical might’ve been flawed,” you mutter to yourself. “Imagine being engaged to Utahime, then.” You ignore his very loud ew! “You’re both an only child. The continuation of your clan’s bloodline rests on your shoulders. Personally, I don’t think she should care. Traditionalists love to preach about the survival of the fittest except when it’s things like this. Bloodlines come, bloodlines go, and the jujutsu world keeps spinning.”

“Exactly!” Satoru agrees. “But, my darling Sketch, there’s one more flaw in your logic—” he taps your nose playfully, “—both me and Utahime have cousins to carry on the bloodline. So, there’s honestly nothing holding her back. She’s making her life and Shoko’s difficult for no reason.”

“It’s not for no reason,” you argue. “Ignoring the fact that change is hard for everyone, Utahime getting cut off from her family is a lot different than you getting cut off from yours. You’re a Special Grade. You can easily make enough money to support yourself without your clan’s money. It’s different for her. And…other than their traditional ways, she does love her family. It’s hard to leave that all behind.”

Satoru sighs loudly. “Life is just easy mode when you’re Gojo Satoru, huh?”

“I have to agree. Other than having to fit your massive ego through doors, it’s easy going for you, isn’t it?”

“Mean!”

Satoru refuses to tell you what he has planned for your date. You know he’s proud of himself for what he’s picked out, so you’ll indulge him, and don’t push to ruin the surprise.

The train is packed.

He’d asked ahead of time if you’d be okay to use public transportation. He’s braver over text, so he admitted he wanted to spend as much time with you as possible, no warping if he can help it. Even Shoko, who was looking at your phone over your shoulder, gave an aww, that’s cute. Then, she’d ruined it with, he’s such a dork.

You don’t want to admit defeat and say you overestimated your ability to deal with crowds today. It’s the weekend before school starts, so you should’ve expected that families and teenagers would be out to enjoy their last moments of freedom. There’s no room to sit, so you’re left to stand alongside everyone else, sharing one of the dangling handles with Satoru because everyone else has one.

At the third bump of someone against your body, you try to reason with yourself that it’s only six stops until yours. Satoru gave you that much of a hint. You can handle it. You refuse to ruin this date because you’re too much of a baby to deal with a crowded train.

As the train nears the first stop of six, your body locks up, preparing for the rush of people who are going to touch you. You’re trying to not visibly grimace in front of Satoru. Trying not to be too obvious with your discomfort because you know he’ll ask if you want to go home. You don’t want to be babied. You want so badly to have a good day. To have your mind and body cooperate with you for once.

“Still up for me touching you?”

“Huh?” You blink out of your mental spiral and tilt your head up toward Satoru. He repeats the question. “Oh, yes, of course. As long as it’s you.”

“I’m gonna test something out.”

You tilt your head to the side. “What?”

Satoru shushes you. “It’s another surprise,” he whispers. Then, his big hand is slipping around and cupping the back of your head. He pulls you forward until your forehead bumps against his solid chest. His other arm moves around your shoulders. The unintentional…or maybe it’s intentional, actually. Anyway, because his arm is there, it’s kind of a barrier between you and the people who bump against you from the back.

Immediately, the tension bleeds from your body. This closeness to him, this being surrounded so wholly by his presence, is something to ground you. You can catch a hint of his body wash and bury your nose further against his chest, chasing the sweet smell. It’s subtle, like your own, because you both hate overwhelming smells. Even his deodorant isn’t powerful. No cologne or body spray—he learned his lesson after that buying that one American body spray when it was released in Japan.

You wrap your arms around his waist, sighing happily. You think that’s it, that he’s using his body to block people, but when the train comes to a stop, something happens.

There’s a little surge in his cursed energy before its shifting. It bleeds out, blanketing you. What happens next is hard for you to describe. It’s weird. The people around you both knock into you, but they also don’t. Your brain registers it, technically, but…it reminds you of magnets, almost. That subtle resistance of trying to push two of the same polarity together that only grows the closer you get the two magnets with each other.

It takes you a stupidly long amount of time, until the next stop, to realize that this is Infinity.

“I finally figured out how to do this,” Satoru murmurs in your ear when the noise of everyone filing in and out dies down. “It was by studying you, actually. It’s familiar, right? Does it feel like a blanket?”

“Yes,” you answer quietly, still in awe.

“Good. Now, if we’re ever out and you’re sick of all the bullshit, I can share this with you.”

And Satoru sounds so proud of himself for learning this. For you. There’s no other reason, tactically, that he would need to extend Infinity to someone else. What did he say last year? He’s been looking at you with his Six Eyes for four…no. It’s been five years now. He’s always been watching you, studying your idiosyncrasies, making note of your pleasures and aversions, and going even deeper to learn the flow of your cursed energy itself.

This twisting of your heart is almost unbearable, but you don’t want to be anywhere else right now other than in his arms. Such an odd feeling that has your body at odds. You breathe in, exhaling shakily. There’s a little wobble in your knees that makes you lean further against him…or maybe that’s just an excuse. You can’t hear his heart with the noise of the train on the tracks, but you feel the rapid thump of it against your cheek. Just as fast as yours.

Now, the counting down of the stops until yours makes you sadder rather than relieved. You don’t want to leave his embrace and not just because of Infinity. Ever since everyone’s gotten their own apartments, spending the night in the same bed has slowly dwindled down. You can’t even remember the last time that you and Satoru were together. You miss it. You want to go home now, only because you want to curl up with him in bed.

But that wouldn’t be very much fun for a date…

“Sorry,” you mumble embarrassedly when you’ve both finally gotten off at your stop. “I should be better at this by now.” You chew your bottom lip nervously. “I know it’s probably awkward for you, being with a grown adult that can’t handle public transportation.” Why are you suddenly so anxious right now?

Satoru squints at you. “When have I ever cared about how you act in public?”

“Um…” You cringe. “Never.”

“Right. And it hasn’t changed, by the way. So, did I do something to give you the wrong impression?”

“No! But I can’t remind you of how sorry I am?”

“Nope, because I don’t want your damn apology when there’s nothing to be sorry about. Jeez, you act like you’re making some big spectacle when all you’re doing is getting nervous.” In the middle of the station, like it’s no big deal, he hunches over to bump his forehead against yours hard enough that it leaves you yelping and clutching at that place. “What’d I say to you last year, huh? Every single part, Sketch.”

I want all the parts of you, even the ugliest ones.

Oh.

As Satoru snatches one of your hands to yank you into motion, leading you toward the exit of the station, the truth barrels into you as fast and hard as the train you’re leaving behind. It took five long years for you to finally catch up with reality, but you understand now. You get it. These declarations of his, all those private and precious moments with him, they’ve always made you feel a certain type of way. Sometimes, it feels painful with how your heart twists up inside your chest. An emotion that you’ve never been able to name always builds up inside you, leaving you jittery and restless because you have no idea what to do with all that pressure.

Finally, you can put a name to it.

And that’s what your massively stupid fucking heart decides to do. Out loud. You’re both stepping out under the sun when your mouth moves before literally any other part of your body, especially your brain, can catch up with it.

“I love you.”

You jerk your hand away from his slackening grip, slapping your hands over your mouth as if that’s going to turn back time and let you swallow back up that very heavy thing you just threw out there. Satoru heard. Oh, you wish he didn’t, but he definitely heard over all the noise because he’s slowly turning his head to look over his shoulder at you. Briefly, in his profile, you see his wide blue eyes.

Actually, he’s so shocked that his Infinity isn’t up because someone physically bumps into him and sends his sunglasses clattering on the ground because they were slipping down the bridge of his nose.

“I’m sorry!” It may be a cold day, but you’re burning from embarrassment. Balking under his heavy gaze, you rush to pick up his sunglasses and put them back on his face for him. But then you realize that’s a very intimate thing to do to another person, no matter how many times you’ve done it before, and almost drop them again. “Forget I said that!” You shake your hands, rocking from side to side because of all your buzzing anxiousness. “We…are we late for the date? We should hurry! Right?!”

Satoru’s mouth opens, closes, and the process repeats two more times before he squeaks, “Yeah!” He hesitates. Does the open-close mouth thing again and you’re terrified that you fucked everything up. Genuinely petrified. Then, so loudly that people start to stare, he announces, “Okay! Yeah! Nothing wrong here! Let’s go!”

Through Satoru’s nervous chattering, as he’s dragging you away, you hear an elderly woman sigh fondly and coo, “Ah, young love.”

“A cat café?”

Satoru cringes. “Do you hate it?”

“Are we here for me…or for you?”

He sputters, cheeks turning red. “I’ll have you know that I’m a dog person!”

“Yeah, but it fits your—” you gesture vaguely at him, “—vibe.”

He squints down at you. “I feel like I should be offended.”

Both of you resolutely not talking about the thing that happened, you now stand outside a new cat café—as announced by their little announcement board placed on the sidewalk. You remember when news spread of the first one opening in Osaka back in 2004, you think it was. The idea of it absolutely delighted you…and almost every other teenage girl, you suspect. Suguru hadn’t gotten the appeal of it, but that’s because his parents didn’t care if he interacted with the stray cats like your mother did.

With the hustle and bustle of high school, though, you kind of forgot the existed until now. You’ve never been to one. In an instant, your excitement for them is renewed and you grab Satoru’s hand, excitedly tugging him inside. You listen dutifully to the employee that greets you both for the appointment Satoru scheduled.

You never knew the logistics until now. For the most part, the cats are all free to pet and interact with. Don’t pressure the cats if they don’t want attention. There are signs scattered around detailing cat behaviors. The café is also an internet one, so there are usually salarymen and college students on their laptops working alongside the cats, but don’t be shocked if some of them decide to barge in on your keyboard. There are treats, both human and cat, available for purchase. The cats also have toys scattered around that you can use to play with them.

Just before you’re set free, you’re shown a wall with pictures of all the cats. “All of them are up for adoption,” the employee chirps. “Ah, but before you go in…well, we were wondering if we could use you as test subjects in exchange for unlimited access to the bakery and drinks.”

You’re not able to look at all the pictures, glancing over at the woman with a tilt of your head, curious about what kind of experiment a cat café can possibly have. “Test subjects?”

“A pair of cats were recently brought to us from the shelter. We’ve been trying to get them adjusted to human interaction—”

Satoru worriedly asks, “Are they dangerous?” You’ve got to hide your laugh as a cough, covering your mouth. There’s no way that he’s seriously asking that, right? Has Satoru forgotten that you’re both sorcerers? It’s as cute as it is perplexing.

“We think that one of them may have been abused, so he’s…cautious of humans. That’s only when he’s by himself, though! If his partner is with him then he’s usually okay! As of right now, they’re a package deal, but that makes adoption harder. We’ve been letting them adjust to human contact with a glass wall separating them from our guests. Since it’ll be only you two for the first half of the day, we thought this might be the perfect opportunity to introduce them to human contact again. This way, they won’t be immediately overwhelmed.”

“Half the day?” Satoru is pointedly not looking at you when you snap your head in his direction. Your eye twitches, but you bite your tongue because you’re both in public. But, oh, the lecture you’re going to give him later will be of epic proportions. Turning back to the employee, you force a smile while she’s blinking in confusion. “I’d love to meet them.”

After signing a waiver and another employee taking your drink orders, you’re finally allowed out into the larger area. There are a few cats that are there to immediately greet you, some weaving through your legs. The space is large but designed in a way to provide privacy if you need it. The cats themselves have so many cat trees and ledges to lounge on. There are even baskets hanging from the ceiling. There’s an area separated from guests for the cats to eat, drink, and sleep in that they access by way of pet doors.

As the employee is introducing you to some of the cats at your feet, Satoru is munching on a taiyaki. He dutifully holds yours when you pass it to him so you can bend down and start petting the cats with the employee. You’re listening intently as she’s introducing all the cats.

“Oi!”

Something thumps down on the floor next to you, grabbing your attention before you can whip your head around to check on Satoru. The cat that’s now next to you can best be described as a cotton ball. It’s so fluffy. The bright, blue eyes that it stares at you with are a little…unnerving. But you’re not really sure why you feel that way. Maybe it’s because you didn’t realize cats could have such an intense eye color?

“Toru!” The employee gasps.

At the same time, Satoru is snarling at the cat, “You little thief!”

“Huh,” you mumble to yourself.

As the employee is babbling apologies to Satoru, you pluck your sunglasses off the top of your head and hold them in the air. It isn’t near the cat, of course, because you don’t want to upset him by getting grabby. You angle them, though, so you can see what the cat would look like with them on. They’re not like Satoru’s at all, but they’re dark like his.

The cat isn’t even eating the taiyaki. He ignores the chastising employee and Satoru, drops the taiyaki, and approaches you to flop down in front of you and show his belly. Even his meows are demanding. And if you didn’t know better, you’d think he was staring Satoru dead in the eye with glee and defiance.

Oh, so that’s why you’re unnerved.

“The resemblance is uncanny,” you whisper in awe. Louder, to interrupt the employee and Satoru, you ask, “What characters do you use for his name?”

“To steal,” she explains with a sigh of resignation. “This is one half of the troubled pair.” Yes, you suspected as much. “It’s not that he doesn’t play well with other pets! He just…”

“Annoys them?”

“How did you know?”

“Just a lucky guess,” you answer deadpan while trying extremely hard not to look at Satoru.

“And, well…even his previous owner, a very kind elderly woman, admitted that she spoiled him too much when she was forced to turn him over to the shelter. She was in poor health and her daughter wouldn’t let her keep him. He loves treats. He steals them from the other cats. The behavior is improving, though! He shares…only with his friend…but it’s progress.”

You reach out to take his little paw between your fingers. All the stray cats in the village taught you that a cat showing their belly is almost always a trap. “Where’s the other—”

There’s a chirp before another cat is rubbing up against your thigh. “Right…there?”

The employee is baffled that her supposedly human-averse cat is greeting you willingly. You are baffled because…okay, this is just ridiculous! If there’s a god out there, they decided to give you the most blatantly obvious signs to adopt a pet today. This cat is as fluffy as his counterpart, but with black fur instead of white except for one spot. It has a patch of gray fur that falls over his eye like a scar…or a bang.

Before you can stop yourself, you reach down to rub one of his ears that, worryingly, has a hole in it. His hackles briefly raise, but he quickly leans into the touch. “You think he was abused?”

“The shelter said it could’ve happened in a fight with another cat,” the employee says while eyeing the cat with the same skepticism you do. “Fights with other animals usually end up with split ears or bits taken off the edge. Nothing like this.” The holes are jagged, yes, but only as if someone tried cutting a circle in too flexible material. Way too precise to be the result of another animal.

“Poor thing,” you coo while scratching him under his chin. He purrs. His counterpart, Toru, meows in offense before leaping right on the black cat’s belly. You’re quick to pull your hand away when they start tussling. “Are they, uh, brothers?”

“No. It’s shocking, considering they’re the same rare breed,” the employee answers with a chuckle. “They’re both Norwegian Forests! Toru came from the elderly woman and had been at the shelter before Gato got there—”

“Gato?” Both you and Satoru repeat at the same time with the same incredulity.

“Oh! Yes, that’s the other cat.” She points to the black cat, not knowing that that’s not what you and Satoru are really questioning here. “Gato means cat in Spanish and the person that saved him was a Brazilian exchange student. It’s a bit unoriginal, but the shelter thought it would be nice to honor the person that saved him.”

“Portuguese,” you correct.

She tilts her head. “Eh?”

“Brazil’s official language is Portuguese.”

Behind you, Satoru asks, “How do you know that?”

“I had a language learning phase in middle school. There’s a large Brazilian community in Japan.”

The employee gasps. “Oh, no! Did we give him the wrong name?”

You try to recall the basic words you’d learned. Portuguese and Spanish have a big overlap with each other. “No, I think Gato is still right.” She sighs in relief. “Um, if you don’t mind me saying…he doesn’t seem very…uh…human averse,” you remark as Gato, having escaped Toru’s shenanigans, slowly approaches you again for pets.

“Maybe all the work we’ve done is paying off,” the employee muses as she slowly reaches down to join you in stroking Gato’s fur. Two people at once must be pushing it because he hisses and swats at her hand before throwing himself right in your lap. He even tries climbing up your shirt, claws digging into the fabric. “Or not,” she adds while cradling her hand to her chest.

“How old are they?” They look full-grown but Gato’s shirt clinging behavior strikes you as kitten-like.

“We know for sure that Toru is a year old. Gato is a little harder to pinpoint down, but the shelter suspects he’s around the same age.”

“Is that…fully grown?”

“Hmm, well, that’s a little more subjective with cats. With smaller breeds, yes. A bigger breed like the American Maine Coon isn’t fully grown until they’re two. They’ve sexually matured, though, but just barely.” She giggles. “If you wanted the human age equivalent, they’re about fifteen.”

This poor employee must be so confused when you can’t take it anymore and burst out into laughter.

Satoru, though, understands. “Sketch, no,” he growls.

But you’ve already made your decision.

Shoko hasn’t stopped laughing since you returned home with Satoru and cat supplies in hand. You’re only a little embarrassed, but Satoru was the one to pay for the adoption fees, so he clearly wasn’t that upset with how the first half of your date day turned out.

The café was kind enough to keep the cats housed for another few days while you readied your apartment for them. You also have to notify your landlord so the pet fee can be added to your rent, but the office is closed on the weekend, so you’ve got to wait until Monday. You think the café will wait as long as possible because they were really worried that Toru and Gato wouldn’t ever be adopted. It’s hard to have someone adopt two cats at once, let alone one as hostile as Gato.

Satoru and you are back in your bedroom, cleaning up the explosion of open bags and packages from the cat tower and toys that you’ve spread around to greet the cats when you bring them home.

You’re shoving blankets inside the carriers to make them more comfortable when Satoru quietly asks, “Did you mean it?” It’s been silent for a few minutes so you’re not sure what he means. You turn to look at him, but his head is ducked down, watching his fingers that fiddle with the hem of his pants. “What you said when we got off the train,” he clarifies.

In all the excitement with the cats, you totally forgot how you almost blew the date before it even started.

You debate on whether to lie or not. You don’t want to do that to Satoru, no matter how soul-crushingly embarrassing this might be. It’s fine. He likes you. He’s said as much. As long as you clearly state that you don’t expect him to feel that way for you right now or ever, for that matter. Relationships, especially young ones, don’t always work out. Satoru would never be cruel to you just because he doesn’t feel the same way.

“Do you want me to? I don’t want to pressure you.”

Satoru is silent before quietly admitting, “I want to know if you feel the same way I feel about you.”

Your eyes slowly widen. “You…” It feels like the breath has been punched out of your lungs. “You…me…” The power of your brain must’ve gone to kick your heart into overdrive because you can’t even form coherent sentences now.

You’re not the only nervous one. Satoru’s normally cold hands aren’t a balm for your scalding hot cheeks today. No, his hands are definitely sweaty when he cups your cheeks. His face is red, too, but he’s brave. So brave. Staring at you with those sparkling blue eyes, he bluntly confesses, “I’m in love with you.”

The breath catches in your throat. “Really?”

He laughs shakily, knocking his forehead against yours. “I’ve been in love with you since I was seventeen years old.”

“I’m in love with you, too.” And you hold both his cheeks in your sweaty hands. “I don’t know how long, but I do. I’m sorry it took me so long to figure it out.”

“It’s okay. I’m only in this for your banging body, anyway. It’s fine if you’re a space cadet.” You snort before breaking out in a fit of giggles. “There,” he breathes out. “That’s the ticket. You’re so pretty, Sketch. Can I kiss you now?”

“After you just called me stupid?” You’re the one to knock your forehead against his. “Yes. You can kiss me.”

Satoru does, even though the first part of it is just the both of you grinning against each other’s mouth. You’re in an awkward position, so you get up on your knees, turning your body toward him before you kiss him again. You didn’t know how much you missed this. His soft lips and sweet taste. He has no confidence in this and it’s endearing. It makes you feel special, that you get to learn with him.

“What was my date rating?” Satoru asks between kisses.

“You did pretty good,” you answer coyly.

“Good enough to be my girlfriend?”

“Okay, that was pretty smooth,” you concede with a laugh. “Yes, Satoru, I’ll be your girlfriend.”

“Girls, it’s time to go.”

Mimiko, with Toru cradled in her arms, appears in the kitchen doorway. “Just a little longer, Mister Geto? Please?”

After drying his hands off completely, Suguru settles them on his hips. It’s such a mother-like pose that you have to bite your lip to keep back the laughter bubbling up in your chest. “Everyone has school tomorrow, Mimiko. You’ve been with Miss Squid all weekend long. We should let her have some time alone.”

Nanako comes barreling into the kitchen, wildly throwing around her arm while insisting, “It’s not time! We always go home at six!” She points at her little pink plastic watch to emphasize the point, though she’s moving too fast for anyone to see.

Suguru sighs in irritation, throwing you a nasty look that has you smiling beatifically in response. You’re not apologizing for adopting two cats desperately in need of a home. Suguru and Satoru are simply biased because they think the cats are out to get them. Never mind that Satoru was there when the employee explained that Gato was abused so that’s why he has a hard time warming up to people.

It’s been a month now. There was a little delay where Gato had to warm up to the girls, but now that he has, it’s only a matter of time before the novelty of them will wear off.

“We’re leaving earlier because we’re walking Tsumiki and Megumi home,” Suguru explains patiently.

“But—”

“Girls,” you interrupt while mirroring Suguru’s hands on the hips. “Do you remember how you needed lots of alone time when you started living with Suguru?” Their little faces grow solemn, but you feel like this is an important enough lesson to instill in them. You’ve been noticing Gato hiding away more frequently as the weekend has stretched on. “Gato needs that alone time, too, okay?”

“Yes, Miss Squid,” they both answer. Thankfully, they have a determination in their eyes rather than lingering sadness. “Will you tell Gato we’re sorry if we made him made him scared?” Mimiko goes on to ask.

You smile. “Yes, I will.”

As the twins are collecting all their things, Tsumiki slips into the kitchen with you, shyly asking if she can help you as you make everyone a bento for tomorrow. It might take a little longer, but you happily accept the help. You’ve learned that she really loves to cook, and you want to foster that. You even bought some cookie cutters to cut vegetables into cute shapes. It’s cute to watch her little brows furrow in concentration and hear her grunt as she tries to force the cutter through vegetables and fruits.

“What happened to Nanako and Mimiko?”

“Hmm?”

“You said they needed lots of alone time. Was it because they were sad?”

“Ah. Well, it’s not really my place to say,” you explain gently. “You’d have to ask them.”

She pauses, shifts uncomfortably, before she quietly confesses, “I’m afraid to.”

“Why?”

“I know they don’t like me.”

You step away from the table enough to crouch down to Tsumiki’s level. She turns her body toward you, but keeps her head ducked down, as if she’s in trouble. “Have they said or done something to make you feel like they don’t like you?” It’s important that you know what they did so you can talk to their therapist about it. Their therapist used to be a sorcerer, so she’s been able to help them with their distrust of non-sorcerers more effectively than a regular therapist, but they’re not perfect.

“No!” Her head flies up, eyes wide, and she waves her hands nervously. “I mean…yes? No? I…” She struggles to explain herself. You wait patiently. “They…um…they’re better friends with Megumi. They don’t have things to talk about with me like him.” She wrings her hands in her dress. “It’s okay! It’s always like that. I know I’m really boring and plain. Everyone’s always liked him better. I know he’s really special. I’m…I’m really happy he has people now who are like him!”

Happy, you mentally repeat while watching her with a forced smile on her face and tears in her eyes. “Do you feel lonely, Tsumiki?” She shakes her head furiously. You reach out to take her hand in yours, squeezing as a show of comfort. “It’s okay to feel that way.”

“I have Megumi,” she argues with a trembling voice.

“I know you do. You can have all the people in the world around you and still feel lonely. You feeling lonely doesn’t mean you don’t love him any less.” You drop to the floor completely, crossing your legs. You take her other hand. “Do you want to know a secret?” You don’t wait for her to answer. “I’ve felt the same way as you do, all through my life. I still do, sometimes.”

“But you’re not like me at all!” Tsumiki protests. “You’re pretty and cool and so, so nice!”

“I am.” It’s taking a lot for you to not start crying yourself. Jeez, is this what it’s like for Suguru and Satoru being on the other side of your self-loathing? “Jiheishō—have you heard of it?” She shakes her head. You didn’t think so. “My brain works a lot different than everyone else. I was the only person in my village that had it. I had Suguru, but there were days when I still felt lonely. Satoru is like me, but he doesn’t…um…we feel it different ways. And he and Suguru are so strong.” You smile softly. “See? I know you’re not a sorcerer, but we’re still a lot alike, right?”

She nods while rubbing at her eyes. “I don’t want to make anyone feel bad.”

“I don’t, either. That’s why I didn’t talk about it for a long time. But it hurt Suguru and Satoru more that I felt so bad for so long without telling them about it.” She’s still conflicted. You empathize with her to the point of pain. “It’s okay. You don’t have to tell anyone else right now if you’re not ready. I know about it now, so if you ever feel sad or left behind, you can talk to me.”

“It…it’s really okay for me to bother you?” Tsumiki asks hesitantly.

“It’s not a bother. You’re not a bother, Tsumiki.” For so long, you felt like a bother. On your bad days, you still do. A child should never have to feel that way, especially not one with as beautiful a soul as Tsumiki. “I really enjoy our time together. It’s fun to cook with you and I want to do it a lot more.”

She gives a wobbly smile through her sniffles. “I love to do arts and crafts with you and Mimiko and Nanako. I want to be as good at drawing as you are.”

“I’m excited to see how far you go,” you tell her honestly. “Would you like a hug before you go?”

“Yes, please.”

“Come smoke with me before I leave, Squid.”

Ugh. You know that he and Satoru definitely overheard the conversation with Tsumiki because they’re super nosy. There’s no way out of it. You’ll have to deal with them both. Might as well get over it. “Megumi,” you call out politely, “Can you help your sister finish up?”

“Sure,” Megumi answers from where he’s on the couch with a book.

Suguru goes ahead to the balcony, waiting until you’re outside and slid the door shut behind you to light a cigarette. “I’ll try to be better around her for you,” is the first thing he says.

Your eyes narrow. “Have you done something to make her feel unwelcome?”

“No…but I haven’t gone out of my way to make her feel included, either.”

You sigh. “If it’s too hard for you to be around her so much, I won’t bring them over to your place anymore.”

“No. I…I genuinely do want to try.” He breathes out a cloud of smoke. “I didn’t realize until listening to you with her that I had made so much of my identity sorcery. Part of the reason why I want to be a teacher is to make sure that students aren’t faceless cogs in a machine, but I’ve done that very thing to myself.”

 “I get it.” You step beside him where he’s leaned against the railing. “I’ve done it, too. We worked so hard to make Satoru stop seeing himself as a weapon, but then we went and made ourselves feel like one.” He nods in agreement. “I didn’t realize that I was doing that with drawing. It became an extension of my technique, became a chore instead of a thing I love. It wasn’t until I saw the girls do it and love it themselves that I remembered why I’d even started doing it in the first place.”

“I want to buy a record player.” He laughs. “Remember the times we’d lay around and listen to the radio?”

You sigh nostalgically. “I miss that thing. It was one of the few times you actually doodled with me.”

“I’m not gifted with art like you are and I’m too much of a perfectionist. I hated that I wasn’t immediately good at it like you were.” He pauses, glancing off into the distance, pensive. “I like cooking. I love to provide for everyone.” It’s an olive branch, of sorts. Something for him to use to better connect with Tsumiki.

“The problem with jujutsu society,” you start slowly, “is that we’ve cut ourselves off from non-sorcerers. It’s easy to stay away from them. It’s hard to be close with people who can never know about this massive part of your life. We save them. They have no idea that we do which breeds resentment while, at the same time, causing us to feel superior to them. You and Satoru are perfect examples of the end result. Two side of the same coin—resentment and superiority.”

Suguru studies you for a few minutes, taking drags of his cigarette. Finally, he asks, “How do you do it?” You tilt your head to the side, confused. “How come you’ve never resented them?”

“I wouldn’t…exactly say that. Hmm, it’s not resentment, I guess. I definitely feel unappreciated, but I also understand why they can’t know.” You rock back and forth on your feet. “The truth is, I’ve walked hand-in-hand with resentment for my whole life. I’ve resented my mind. I envy people who can walk in their world without trouble, both sorcerer and not. But…I always had you. We connected as sorcerers, in a way that no one else in our village could understand. During our first year of high school, I met Satoru and connected with him in a way that you could never understand. That’s what it’s all about, I guess.”

“What? Connection?”

“Yeah. Sorcerers can pretend they’re not all they want, but we are all connected by the human experience. That’s the very least. I know that there’s going to always be something that connects me to another person, something that we can bond over. I’ve craved to be understood all my life, so why wouldn’t I try to understand another person—sorcerer or not?” You nod to yourself, satisfied with your conclusion. “Yeah. That’s it.”

“That’s it, she says, while giving some groundbreaking wisdom,” Suguru says with a huff of disbelief.

“You’re just being dramatic now.”

He sighs, snuffing his cigarette out in the tray that you bought specifically for him and Shoko. “No, you just never give yourself enough credit.” He smiles softly. “I promise to keep working at it.”

It’s a Sunday, almost three months into your relationship, when you wake before Satoru does.

Thank goodness, you groggily think. You’ve been worried about him. It’s the dead of summer now which means a rise in cursed spirit activity. It’s not until now that you realized how easy the higher-ups were taking it on you all in high school, even with both Satoru and Suguru at the Special Grade label. Headquarters no longer cares about Satoru’s status as a student. And now that it’s July and summer break for him, the higher-ups go even harder.

Over in the corner of the room, Gato and Toru are still curled up, asleep. They’ve become your little alarm clocks, but even they seem to want to sleep in today. It’s the right kind of idea. With a soft, happy sigh, you wiggle back to bury yourself further in Satoru’s arms. It’s only then that you suddenly become aware of something poking against your ass.

Satoru moans softly in his sleep before he starts unconsciously grinding against you.

You’re not totally clueless. You know that, usually, if someone has a dick, it gets hard in the morning. Actually, you’ve seen and felt it before with Suguru. Before your parents totally banned him from sleepovers, he’d roll over when you both woke up and you’d sometimes catch a peek of the tent in his shorts. When he started sneaking into your dorm room in high school, you’d feel it, too. You were always polite to just never bring attention to it.

But in all the years that you’ve slept in the same bed as Satoru, he has never gotten hard around you. That, paired with the fact that he was never hard when you two made out, and you’d assumed that he simply doesn’t feel sexually attracted to you. It was any easy thing to accept because you’d gone so many years without feeling it yourself. It wasn’t until you were in high school for the switch to your libido to turn on. Before these past three months when you think a little too hard about Satoru, you think the last time that you’d felt a hint of lust was that July afternoon when you and Suguru took each other’s virginities.

Bodies do what bodies do, though. Unless you’re thinking about Satoru, getting off feels like cleaning out the pipes. You figure that’s what’s probably going on here, but you don’t want to…you’re not actually sure what. For some reason, it feels wrong to let it happen without his knowledge. Natural bodily reaction or not. You think you should wake him up.

Satoru has already beaten you to the punch. Hips still moving, he sighs as happily as you did, softly murmuring your name. You wait for him to process the situation. You’ll follow his lead—not mention it unless he brings it up. “Mm, feels good,” he whispers as he buries his face in the crook of your neck.

And that does it for you. It sends a shiver down your spine and has the place between your legs throbbing. “Good morning,” you greet hoarsely. At the sound of your voice, Satoru freezes. You crane your head to the side, trying to glance at him over your shoulder. He is, predictably, turning so red that you’re worried there’s going to be steam coming off him. “Don’t freak out,” you say ahead of time, trying to calm him down.

“I’m not!” Satoru shouts defensively, voice pitched high in distress. You’re not focused on that, though. Because suddenly, you stop feeling his dick against your ass. Which wouldn’t be a big deal if he had pulled away, but he hasn’t. While his hips are still pressed against the curve of you, you just…stop feeling the hardness of him.

“What the—” Satoru is faster than you, scrambling away while you’re rolling over on your other side. With narrowed eyes, you watch him as he’s now propped up against the headboard, covers carefully placed over his lap along with his hands. “What did you just do?”

“I’m going to go feed those little heathens.”

Oh, okay, you see how it is. He really wants to play this game, huh? Fine. “Okay. Go ahead.”

He hesitates before weakly suggesting, “You can go back to sleep now.”

“No. I’m awake now,” you reply coolly as you lean up on an elbow, holding your cheek in your hand.

He’s definitely starting to sweat now. “If you’re awake then you go do it.”

“They can wait.”

Satoru loses his patience at your insistence on not looking away. “Sketch.”

“Satoru.”

“Please.”

“Please what?”

He covers his face with his hands, groaning like he’s in agony. “Don’t make me talk about this.”

Hmm. What can you do to make him more comfortable? This is definitely a talk that you two need to have. You’ve been making assumptions when you should’ve just asked him up front if sex was going to be on the table or not. “If I roll over, will it be easier to talk to me?”

“Ugh, I don’t want to talk about it at all!” His cheeks puff out and he crosses his arms over his chest, clearly pouting, but he eventually relents. “Yeah, fine. Let’s just get it over with.”

“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” you remark as you move back to your original position. “It’s what your body does.” You pause, thinking of how to further reassure him. “If I’m not allowed to be embarrassed about my brain, you shouldn’t have to hide that from me. How are you hiding it, by the way?” Satoru mumbles something. You think you catch it, but you dryly request, “A little louder, please.”

“Infinity,” he answers, loud and bitchy.

It takes a lot to not turn back over, but you swore you’d stay. “You…were using your technique…to keep me from feeling it when you get hard,” you summarize. Just to confirm. You’re not going to laugh. You’re not going to laugh.

“Yes,” he mumbles.

Hmm, that seemed a little too easy for him to do. As if he had practice with doing it before. “How long have you been doing this?”

He’s reluctant to answer. “I worked on figuring it out after that day in our second year. The…the one on the field…when you were underneath me.”

“Wait one second!” You remember that day! It was where you two ended up in a compromising position and he’d accidentally pressed his knee against your pussy. You get tangled in the sheets temporarily in your rush to turn over and sit up, facing him directly. “Is that the reason you stole my sweatshirt?”

Satoru’s shoulders are slowly hunching up to his ears. “I couldn’t help it! You were so pretty, moving around almost like a dance! Then, I know it was because you got hurt from the fall, but my dick couldn’t tell the difference between a good moan or a bad moan! I panicked!”

You burst out into laughter despite your burning cheeks. He whines your name. You don’t want him to think you’re making fun of him, so you try to explain through your laughing, “I’m relieved that my plan worked. I hoped you thought it was because I hurt myself, but it was just because you turned me on when your knee bumped against my…y’know.” You motion toward your crotch.

“Seriously?!”

“Seriously,” you confirm as your laughter settles down. “Jeez, Satoru, this whole time…I thought you just weren’t into me that way.”

“Sketch, why would I ask you out if I wasn’t into you that way?”

You shrug. “You can still love someone without needing to have sex with them. I know everyone else assumes you have to do that when you’re a couple, but…I never really got turned on that much until that day, honestly. So, yeah, I think they’re two separate things.”

In an instant, Satoru has straightened up and watches you seriously. “Do you ever want to fuck?” He cringes, maybe at how crude that sounded. “In the future, I mean. We don’t have to. I liked you way before then, since we were first years. If you never wanna have sex, I still want to be with you.”

“Didn’t you hear me just say you turned me on?” You scoot toward him, reaching out to push his bangs away from his forehead, making him lift his eyes. “If you’re okay with it then, yes, I want to do that with you.” You pull your hand away, suddenly remembering that there’s something crucial you haven’t told him about. “Um…so…just full honesty here…uh, I’m…I’m not a virgin.”

Satoru snatches your wrist, eyes wild and desperate. “What?! Who—”

“Suguru,” you admit quietly while pulling your arm away from his grasp.

“Oh.” He exhales loudly as if he’s relieved and holds a hand above his heart. “Jeez, Sketch, you really scared me for a second there. Don’t ever do that again. I thought there was someone else.”

You tilt your head to the side, confused. “But…there…was someone else?”

“Someone that’s not Suguru,” he replies with a roll of the eyes. As if you’re silly for pointing that out. “If I trust anyone to take care of you, it’s him. Duh.” Oh. Well. That…went better than expected? Actually, you’re not sure how you thought he was going to respond. “But when’d that happen? How?”

“Oh. Uh…third year. The July before…everything.” You chew the inside of your cheek, debating on how much to tell him, but it’s not like Satoru doesn’t already know everything about you and Suguru, anyway. “I mean, originally, I came up with stupid idea that if we were virgins by the end of high school, we’d fix that for each other, and he agreed. I…honestly, I’d forgotten all about it until he brought it back up. And…” You sigh. “I wanted to make him happy.”

Satoru looks concerned. “You only did it for him?”

Yeah, you should’ve worded that better. You know how it must sound from his end. That you were appeasing Suguru, that it was all about him. “It wasn’t only him getting something out of it! He definitely took care of me. It felt really, really good! We—” you squirm uncomfortably. You have to be honest about how you were feeling at the time and that’s hard to do. “I can’t speak for him, but…I think he probably felt the same. I felt so out of control with everything that was happening. I felt like everyone and everything was slipping away, especially him. It made him happy, and it made me happy, too.”

His features soften, less worried now. “Have you…uh…talked about it since then?”

“No. You know what happened after. And it took us so long to start talking again. And by the time we were close to what we were before, you asked me out.” You fidget with the sheets. “Do���do you think I should talk to him? I don’t know what I’d even say.”

“You could ask him to join us?”

As always, Satoru brings levity to the situation. Snorting, you shove at him. “Be serious!”

“Who says I wasn’t, huh?” But he’s grinning, strained as it may be. “I don’t know. I guess you’re right. Suguru was the one who actively encouraged me to ask you out, so…I guess he’s not hung up on it.” That…stings, for some reason. Maybe it’s the timing of it all that makes it hurt. If things had gotten better…then what? What would you have done? That question makes your chest tight. “So, you wanna pop my cherry?”

He yanks you from the emotions welling up inside your chest. “Satoru!”

“That’s what I’m hearing, isn’t it?”

“You could be less crass about it!”

His smile comes a little easier. He lashes out, snatching your wrists, dragging you forward toward him. Giggling, you pretend to put up a fight. “You want me to be more poetic about it?” He gets you in his lap, hands braced on his shoulders. “Please, my dear Sketch, be my guide through the erotic arts.”

“That’s somehow worse,” you mutter. Then, you shake your head and sigh fondly. “We should probably take it slow since you won’t even let me feel your dick.”

“I’ll let you feel it right now!”

Toru and Gato decide, at that exact moment, that they’ve waited long enough for breakfast. Toru does his favorite thing when Satoru is around which is throw himself on top of Satoru’s head, white fluff on more white fluff. Gato likes Satoru more than Toru does and lovingly tries to slip under Satoru’s shirt, but he’s still yowling like he’s dying of starvation.

“Menaces to society,” Satoru complains.

“The cutest menaces to society,” you coo while reaching up to take Toru into your loving arms.

You should’ve expected that Satoru would plan to take things faster in regard to the whole sex thing. Suggesting taking it slow probably came off as you trying to take it easy on him which, of course, would not stand in his eyes and would have him seeing it as a challenge.

For the past two weeks since that morning, he’s been restless when you do have the chance to see him. Since the end of the college semester, you could count with your fingers how many times he’s actually been in his apartment. Even if it’s to crash in your bed while you’re at work, hoping to spend even a little time with you before he’s called away.

You’ve been seriously debating on spiking the coffee of one or two higher-ups in order to influence them to take it easier on him, but Satoru would be upset. That’s playing with fire. And he’s right, you suppose. You need to test the limits of your technique, refine it, see if it’s possible to make it untraceable. So, no use of your technique unless under dire circumstances.

Satoru texted you with a heads up that he’s napping in your bed and said he left some cash on your table to use to stock up your pantry with sweets since he’s been burning through them. You don’t feel like arguing with him over who pays, so you do as he asks this time. With Toru and Gato weaving through your legs and almost tripping you—their daily routine—you make your way to the kitchen, but the only thing there is his wallet.

“I knew I should’ve reminded him to get the cash out before he went to sleep,” you whisper to yourself and the stillness of your apartment. It still feels weird going through his wallet. “Should I wake him up?” It’s pondering out loud, but Toru answers with a chirrup. If he could talk, it’d probably be a resounding yes.

You decide against it. He needs actual sleep. Not Reverse Cursed Technique. That doesn’t remove emotional fatigue. Toru yowls in offense when you don’t leave the kitchen and instead pick up Satoru’s wallet. You flip it open, peeling it apart, and your brows raise to your hairline when you see what’s tucked away in there alongside his cash.

Shaking your head in disbelief, you take the bills, close his wallet, place it back where it was on the table, and you’re headed back out the door.

You don’t bring it up until after you’ve both had dinner together, you’ve showered, and you’re settling in for bed. His nap was enough to recharge his brain, so he’ll be playing the PlayStation 2 that appears to have taken up permanent residence in your bedroom. He’s cross-legged at the end of the bed, tongue poking out, and his eyes briefly dart over to you.

Then, he does a double-take and stares at you with wide eyes while you hear the telltale sound of the game’s death screen.

Oh, that’s definitely boosting your ego. Goes to show what simply taking off your sports bra can do. When it comes to Satoru, anyway. This only further cements how sheltered he truly was. But…your only point of reference is Suguru and you two literally grew up together. You were never totally naked around each other, but he never outright ogled when your nipples were showing through your shirt.

“You’re blushing,” you tease.

“I’m not!”

“How are we going to use that condom in your wallet if you can’t even look at me?” You laugh at the look of pure horror on his face. Like a deer caught in headlights. “Are you trying to speedrun sex?”

“No,” he lies. “But even if I was, it’s fine. I’m ready. You don’t have to treat me like I’m made of glass.”

Humming, you slowly approach him. He’s sitting on the edge of the mattress now, so you can stand between his open legs. “Do you ever stop to think about how much you keep Infinity up?” He’s even doing it right now. He doesn’t lower it quick enough, so your fingers meet resistance when going to card them through his hair. “Everything felt turned up to an eleven when I was doing it with Suguru. I can’t imagine what it’s going to feel like for you.”

“I can handle it,” he grumbles with a pout.

“Fine. Do you feel like fooling around right now?”

“Right now?” Satoru squeaks.

“Only if you’re up for it,” you say sweetly.

“Yes,” he breathes out. “Holy shit, yes. I am so ready,” he declares as he rubs his sweaty palms across his shorts.

It feels like you should feel more nervous than you do right now. Then again, you’ve slowly been learning that the littlest things about you turn him on. Letting him see you fully naked doesn’t seem so daunting when you know how attracted he already is to you.

You’re still standing between his legs when you slowly pull your shirt up and over your head, so your breasts are right there in his face when you toss the garment over in the corner of the room. He’s transfixed. There might even be a little drool at the corner of his mouth. But, despite what people may think, Gojo Satoru is a gentleman with his girlfriend and doesn’t touch. His fingers twitch, but he doesn’t move his hands.

“You’re really good when you wanna be, y’know,” you remark amusedly. Interestingly enough, his cheeks turn redder when you tell him that. “You can touch me.” You hear the click of his throat when he swallows. “Is it okay for me to touch you?” He nods silently. “Can I take off your shirt?”

Satoru, while yanking his shirt over his head, says, “How would it even work if I told you no?”

“Maybe you want me to keep my hands to myself while you explore my body!”

His metaphorical ears perk up. “Is that on the table?”

The truth is that you’ve been thinking about this since you found that condom in his wallet and decided to confront him. You wanted something to happen. Not that you’d try to pressure him if he wasn’t ready! But you’d be lying if you said you weren’t hoping this is how things would play out.

“As long as you let me touch you after.” He nods eagerly. You chuckle softly before turning around and flopping back on your mattress. “Okay, then. My body is all yours.”

There’s that panicked expression again. Also, he moves his arm to cover his crotch. “Um…maybe don’t say that again…”

“You know the whole point of this is us being turned on, right? You don’t have to hide it anymore.”

He sighs in defeat before admitting, “I don’t want to come fast and embarrass myself, okay?”

“If you come just from me talking to you then I feel like that’s a sign from the heavens to marry you.”

Your attempts at trying to ease his mind seem to be working because he grins at you when you say that. He closes the distance, putting his hands on either side of your head. “Wait. Keep going. I’m almost there.”

“You’re not really beating those allegations of being whipped that Shoko throws your way.”

“Sorry that I love my Sketch.” You instinctively turn your head away, overwhelmed by the emotions that build inside you when he says that. It was the wrong thing to do because he immediately pounces. “Eh?” He drops down on his elbows, lowering himself so his body presses against yours, and shifts to put his face right in front of yours. “You know the whole point of this is us being turned on, right?”

Figures that he’d throw your words back at you.

“It’s not me getting turned on,” you protest. “I…I’m not used to it yet! I’d react the same way if you said it in a non-sexual setting!”

“Hmm, I don’t know,” he sings. “I think it could totally be both. We should test it out!” And that smirk on his face spells nothing but trouble for your future. “Should I tell my Sketch how much I love her while I’m exploring her body?”

“I’ll give as good as I get,” you hiss. “I swear I’ll make you come so fast, Gojo Satoru!”

“But my Sketch wouldn’t make fun of me for that. She said so.” He’s still smirking smugly, putting his hand on your cheek to guide your head back toward the ceiling. “Because she’s so kind to me.” His face is above yours. “She’s as beautiful inside as she outside.” You squeeze your eyes shut. “All my dreams are coming true because of her.”

“Stop talking about me in the third person,” you stutter., betraying just how flustered you’re getting. “Just stop talking about me period!”

“Why?” One of his hands moves to your thigh, tentatively squeezing. “You like this, right? That’s why you’ve been squeezing your legs together.” You have been. You don’t want to admit it to yourself, but you’ve been trying to ease the pressure inside you, but his stupid waist is in the way.

This is infuriating—how your brain lights up like a firecracker at the praise yet somehow can’t handle it.

“Yeah, that’s why I’m doing it,” you explain slowly as a plan starts forming. You’ll just have to distract him. “Do you want to feel what you’ve been doing to me?”

He audibly gulps.

Satoru learns his lesson about rushing things. Your hunch about his sensitivity had been right. While he has his hand stuck down your shorts, having found a good rhythm after exploring that part of you, you’re on the cusp of orgasm and instinctively try to quiet your noises. Because of your height differences, your face is at his collarbones, so you give your mouth something to do by licking one of his nipples.

He tears you away from orgasm when he tears his hand away to grip at the covers. You pull your face away long enough to see him squeezing his eyes shut and gritting his teeth, but his hips buck and he loses control. His groan is loud, almost sounding pained, but it felt like that for you, too, the first time you came from someone else’s touch.

“I forgot about the tongue piercing,” he wheezes when he’s come down from it.

You don’t remind him that he feels it every single time he kisses you with tongue. Mainly because he’s shoving said tongue back in your mouth as he kisses you roughly. You stop thinking when he shoves his hand back down your shorts and quickly sends you careening over the edge of orgasm soon after.

It happens on a random day in early November.

You’re meticulously going over all the details of a plan you’re going to propose to the higher-ups in a week. You’ve been buried in files, been forced to make potential recruitment calls, and test your math skills with someone from budgeting. You didn’t even know headquarters had a budgeting department. It’s been a test of your patience. No wonder nothing ever gets done. The higher-ups make it as painful as possible to even suggest a plan.

Shoko had dinner with you and Satoru. Though, it was more of a working one for you. Shoko demanded you leave the paperwork behind, but you primly reminded her that this is your apartment, and you’ll do what you want. And after you scarfed down your food, you were right back at the chabudai.

Shoko taps the chabudai, her fist in your field of vision. You glance up at her, blinking. She has her coat on and a cigarette hanging from her lips, ready to be lit and smoked as soon as she leaves. “I’m leaving,” she announces. “Please stop working for the night and entertain your idiotic boyfriend. He’s been watching you like a creep for the last ten minutes.”

Oh. You thought he’d sat down to play his Nintendo DS while you worked. It’s there, on the chabudai, but it’s off. Satoru has an elbow leaned on the table and, as Shoko said, is watching you with a grin. “He does that sometimes. He likes to watch my cursed energy.”

“And you actually believe that?” Shoko shoots back dryly.

“What else would it be?”

“Yeah, Shoko, what else would it be?” Satoru repeats in a mocking tone. “You don’t know me.”

“I do know you. You’re just openly doing the thing you’ve been doing since we were first years—looking at Duck like a lovesick puppy.”

You squint at Satoru who is having a stare down with Shoko. The flush high on his cheeks is a dead giveaway, though. “Well, it is his right,” you defend. “Be thankful we’re not in public.”

Shoko makes a noise of disgust. “He does it there, too.”

“I can’t control where or how he looks.”

“Ugh, I didn’t think it was possible for you to spoil him more.”  Then, she throws her hands up in defeat and heads toward the door. “I’m leaving now before I’m sent into a sugar-induced coma by watching you two swoon over each other.”

“Bye!” Satoru and you both shout after her simultaneously.

“See you!” Shoko calls back before the door shuts, so she clearly isn’t that upset about the behavior if she’s not storming out without another word.

It’s too bad Shoko didn’t stick around because her complaint did do something good which is pull you away from work. You lean up to your full height, back popping from being hunched over for so long. Satoru sees this as the perfect opportunity to tackle you to the floor and start peppering your face with kisses.

“Maybe she’s right,” you say between kisses and laughter. “Maybe I am spoiling you.”

“No, you’ve been depriving me of love, actually,” he whines. “And you haven’t even told me what you’re working on.”

“Because I know you’d threaten the higher-ups to accept it.”

“I would not!” He flattens himself against you, digging his chin between the valley of your breasts, pouting up at you. “I’d give them just a little nudge in the right direction.”

You tilt your head back against the tatami. How many times do you have to explain this to him? “I need to earn their trust. Does it make me feel sleazy? Yes. But it has to be done. We need someone on the inside. The whole reason you wanted to teach was to make stronger allies, to get people on your side rather than throw your weight around and scare everyone.” You run your fingers through his hair, scratching lightly as his scalp. “Let me handle the bureaucratic bullshit, alright?”

“Fine,” he agrees with a huff. Clearly, he’s not very upset because he bats his lashes at you, bottom lip stuck out, trying to look as cute as possible. “I still think you should do something to make up for depriving me of girlfriend time.”

Girlfriend time—as if you actually go out that much. Most of the time, you both exist in the same room, doing things that you both love while occasionally bringing the other into it. “Yeah? What do you want for your so-called compensation?”

Then, cheery as anything, he chirps, “I think you should fuck me!”

The weight of the request compared to the silliness as he asks it has your brain stuttering. “Um…like…you want to get off together?”

“I mean—” he scratches the bridge of his nose, “—hopefully that happens in the process. I don’t really know how long I’ll last when I’m inside you, though. I’ll definitely go down on you if I come before you. Or before.” He waggles his brows. “I’d like something savory for dessert.”

Heat rushes across your body. You’re not sure if it’s from arousal or being flustered. “Ugh, don’t…don’t describe me like I’m food—”

“I can be more descriptive if you want?”

“More?”

He nods eagerly. “Oh, yeah. I could wax poetry about your pussy.”

The absurdity of this situation has you dropping your head back and bursting out into laughter. This is such a filthy conversation to have, absolutely ridiculous, but you’re simply overwhelmed with love for him. It’s just so…Satoru. And you don’t know how you got so lucky to have this perverted dork love you the way he does. So brash and blunt yet so considerate and caring, thinking of every detail ahead of time to make sure you’re taken care of and happy.

“Just…just don’t,” you beg through your laughter. “No waxing poetry is needed.”

“Eh? But I made a haiku and everything!”

The fact that you don’t know if he’s serious or not has you laughing harder. “You’re so stupid,” you breathe out while tugging him up so you can get your mouth on his. “I love you so much.” He grins against your mouth. “Let’s go to bed and finally put that condom in your wallet to use.”

By the time you’re back in your bedroom, your shirt and bra are already off. Satoru made a brief detour to the kitchen for his wallet, but he’s nothing if not efficient, so his shirt is also already off when he sprints back to the bedroom with you. Condom wrapper between his teeth, he’s already unbuttoning his pants, too. Chuckling, you close the distance between you two, fingers hooking in his waistband, taking over tugging down his pants for him.

You’re both naked when you fall back on your mattress together. You’re sprawled out, but Satoru is on his knees, bracketing your legs. He claps his hands together and bows his head a little, looking so goofy while doing all this with a hard dick. “Please be gentle with me, Senpai.”

You snort. “You’re literally the oldest here.”

He drops the pose, hunching over so his face is hovering over yours. “But you’re the senpai in sex!”

“I’ve only had sex once.”

“One more time than me.”

In the corner of your eye, you catch the movement of him rubbing his hands against your sheets. Not suspicious at all. You see this for what it is. “Hey,” you whisper as you reach out to touch his cheek. “Are you nervous?”

“Me?” He scoffs dismissively. “No.”

So…yes. You place your hands on his bare shoulders, sliding them around to thread your fingers through the soft, white hair at the base of his neck. “Hypothetically, if you were nervous, then why?”

“Hypothetically,” he stresses as the bravado slips away for something less confident, “I want this to be special for you, and I’m worried I’m not doing that.” He pauses. “Again, purely hypothetical.”

“Purely hypothetical,” you repeat wryly before sighing. “It’s already special because it’s you. There’s nothing more for you to do but be the person I love.”

“Smooth,” he compliments.

Trying to keep the playfulness going to ease his nerves, you shoot him a sly grin. “Don’t worry. Senpai will take care of you.”

“Ooh, we should get your uniform skirt out and get some knee-high socks for you. That’d be so sexy.”

You lean forward to shut him up with a kiss.

It goes like that for a while, the two of you trading sensual kisses as you roll around. At one point, you’re on top, straddling him, grinding to chase after the flickers of pleasure when his cock bumps against your clit. He doesn’t let that last long, rolling over to pin you back underneath him, and he starts sucking bruises into your skin while pinching a nipple between his fingers. You give a ragged breath and cradle the side of his face in a hand.

Slowly, he kisses his way down your body—neck, valley of your breasts, and pausing at your belly. “Now or after?”

You’d really love to come on his cock. Fooling around with Satoru has made you learn you like being full when you come, but you’ve only done this once two years ago. “It’s easier when I’m wet,” you mumble. “And you’re…big.”

Satoru doesn’t even preen at the compliment, too eager to get down to your pussy. You’re not sure what you expected Satoru to be like in bed, but he loves going down on you. The very first time, it turned him on so much that he came in his shorts only after a few thrusts against the bed. And…you love it, too. A lot. Sometimes, it’s been hard for you to get off because you’re so distracted by the callousness of his fingers against your clit, but you don’t feel that with his tongue. But you feel guilty because it takes longer for you to come than him.

It's his first time, though, you think blearily as he yanks you further down the bed so he can drop to his knees on the edge of the mattress. If this is what he wants, then this is what he gets. You gasp softly at the first swipe of his tongue, heart racing with a blend of nervousness and excitement. You instinctively move to bite at your fist to silence yourself—a leftover from the few times you tried getting off when living with your parents. Satoru grabs your wrists before you can, guiding them to clench at the sheets, greedily wanting to hear you.

“Fingers,” you demand breathlessly when your legs start trembling. “Get me ready for your cock.” He moans against your pussy, the vibration making you yelp and unthinkingly clutch at his hair. He moans again and your toes curl. “Fingers,” you insist. All the thoughts just leave his head when he’s got his mouth on you.

Satoru manages to slip three in you before you barrel over the edge. You knew you were excited and turned on, but jeez. Usually, when he licks inside you along with his fingers, that’s never quite enough to finish the job, but not tonight. You end up boxing his head in with your thighs, trembling and arching up from the mattress. You’re blinking stars out of your eyes when he grabs you by the hips and manhandles you back up the mattress so he’s kneeling over you again.

“Should I wait?” Satoru hesitantly asks.

Dazedly, you answer, “Go for it. Just don’t make me try to come.” You hear the crinkle of the condom and lean up on an elbow, watching him rip it open. “Want me to help?”

“I say this with nothing but love in my heart for you,” he starts with a strained smile, “but do not go anywhere near my dick right now. Don’t even look at me. I swear I’m about to bust at just the sight of you looking like that, I’m so serious. All fucked out and like…like an ethereal goddess…”

You flop back on the mattress, staring up at the ceiling with a laugh. “Fucked out, maybe. Ethereal goddess? Now, you’re the one that’s spoiling me.” You spread your legs wider when he touches the inside of your knees, shivering when you hear that little hitch in his breath at the sight of you. “Someone has to be humble in this relationship.”

Satoru says nothing, so you tilt your head up, watching him. Kneeled between your legs, he has one hand still on your knee, absentmindedly running his thumb over the skin. In his other hand, he’s got the condom on and is holding his dick. He’s staring at your pussy with a weird mix of…determination and anxiety?

As your mouth is opening to check on him, he lifts his eyes to meet yours before nervously blurting, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

There’s another reason that he’s more focused on your pleasure than his own. Like in your first year, he had issues with control over Infinity—only around you and Suguru. “Come here,” you beckon while reaching out your arms for him. He flattens himself against your body, putting his face in the crook of your neck. “You won’t hurt me. Your body doesn’t recognize me as a threat, remember?” Satoru has only ever trusted you and Suguru, so deeply that his body acknowledged this truth before Satoru himself figured it out. “But we don’t have to keep going.”

“I want to.” His lips drag across your skin. Intimate like this, your nerves are livewires, sparking at even the lightest touch. “I want to be with you,” he confesses while lacing his fingers through yours. “I want to give this to you.”

Haven’t you already given me everything? Love and trust, above all else. He’s told you that he’s stared at the shape of your soul, but you don’t need his eyes to be able to see his just as well. When you’re with each other, there are no masks. They’re dropped at the door. You are yourselves, true and unabashed. Sketch and Satoru. This is to be known. This is love.

Satoru doesn’t stretch you as much at the first time you did this, but he reaches so much deeper. You keep control of his pace with your nails dug into the skin of his hips, pushing when you need a second to breathe. Just when you think there can’t be much more left, there is. And when he’s buried to the hilt, trembling under your hands, you swear you can feel him in your throat. You gasp, tangling your legs with his.

“Not lasting long,” he warns through gritted teeth.

“Wanna stay there?” You reach down between your bodies, giving an experimental glide of your fingers over your clit. Sensitive, but doable. “I can go again, I think,” you admit breathlessly.

“Yeah?”

Oh, the sound of his voice, husky and seductive, makes you throb. You clutch at him tighter. “Yeah,” you confirm. “You feel so good.”

“Fuck, not as good as you.” He gives an experimental roll of his hips, and you feel the shudder roll through him. “Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck. It feels so good, you have no idea. I never wanna leave your pussy. I wanna die here. This is heaven. Actual heaven.” Your fingers trail across his collarbone, the skin flushed and glistening with sweat. “Please,” he begs. You hum in question. “Please, don’t go near my nipples. Please. I need some of my pride left.”

“Don’t worry. You’re doing so well right now.”

“No, no, no, let’s not do that right now. That is not helping the way you think it is.”

So, the reassurance did not reassure. “Sorry,” you apologize without really feeling sorry. You’re going to tuck that little tidbit away for later. He’s already struggling enough as it is. “You know you can come, though, right? That’s sort of the point. I got mine already.”

“I refuse to be a one pump chump,” he says with a huff.

“I could be really mean right now,” you tease as your fingers glide dangerously close to a nipple. “Is this what it feels like to be the strongest? I think I’m experiencing a power trip right now.”

Satoru snorts. You giggle. Then, the both of you are laughing. “And here I was trying to be serious about all this,” he says through his giggling.

“I don’t want serious. I want Satoru.”

He sighs softly, arching his back to get his mouth on yours. “You’re so romantic,” he whispers against your mouth. “I love you so much, y’know?”

You touch his cheek, smiling shyly. “I love you, too.”

The silliness melts away, tenderness and love remaining. Your earlier plan goes out the window because you don’t want to stop holding his hands when he laces his fingers through yours again, keeping them up by your head. It takes three thrusts before he’s gripping your hands so tight, entire body going tense, and moaning in your ear as he comes. It’s the hottest thing you’ve ever heard and that is when you pull your hand away to rub at your clit. There’s no more burn of oversensitivity. You’re burning hot for him, and you come almost as fast as he does.

It's a quiet process afterward. He ties the condom off, easily tossing it in the little trashcan by your nightstand. You’re starting to doze when he shifts down on the mattress enough to place his head in the valley of your breasts. You card your fingers through his hair, eyes fluttering shut as you listen to his steady breaths.

“No Reverse Curse Technique tonight,” you mumble, halfway asleep. “Rest your brain.”

“Okay,” Satoru agrees as sleepily as you. “Phone off, too.”

“Good,” are the last words you remember being spoken before you’re drifting off.

[ofthemorningstars]

Bounce Castle Blues (Part 1/2)

TerzOmega ~ Family Fluff ~ Light Angst ~ Resurrection AU

7.6k words Part 2 AO3 Version

"This wasn’t how he wanted anyone to spend such a special day… They were supposed to be celebrating Astrid, not fighting amongst themselves. Thinking about how hard Terzo was icing him out stung; coldness was so rare now in their relationship. Omega felt them grow closer with each passing day, so being met with anger and irritation from his mate was a shock to Omega’s system. It made him feel vulnerable and off balance."

Today is Terzo and Omega's youngest child's birthday party, but something is wrong with Terzo.

Holy shit, I'm finally back, baby!

---

“No no, amore, a little higher than that! I want everyone to be able to see it!” Terzo ordered sharply from the ground as Omega hung the banner, Terzo's arms crossed in front of him. The human’s face was a rigid mask of annoyance, but his nail-biting gave him away; he was anxious. Omega quirked an eyebrow at him from his place atop the ladder. “Tesoro mio, any higher and it’ll be on the ceiling.” Omega was admittedly exasperated, but he wasn’t going to argue with his husband, especially not today. Terzo began tapping his foot impatiently, and Omega sighed, but complied. Once the banner was hung exactly to Terzo’s liking, the ghoul descended the ladder and pulled Terzo’s hand away from his mouth. He tutted with concern over Terzo’s bloodied nail beds, causing Terzo to flush a deep pink and look away in shame. 

“What’s got you so worked up today?” Omega questioned as he wrapped an arm around Terzo’s waist, his tone sincere. But even after Omega pulled Terzo to face him, Terzo still avoided making eye contact. “It’s a big day, yes, but… Mia luce… It’s just a birthday party,” Omega reminded him. “We’ve done so many of these already. You’re not acting like yourself.” 

Indeed, Terzo had been bossing around Omega and the rest of the adults helping decorate the ministry's half-covered courtyard for their daughter Astrid’s fourth birthday party all afternoon, his demeanor uncharacteristically terse. At least, it was uncharacteristic when it came to how he treated Omega. Terzo had always been very particular when it came to event planning, but today was an extreme case, even for him. Alpha had already stormed out in a huff, and he could tell that Primo and Secondo were close to doing the same. Copia was simply too happy that he was being trusted with something as important to Terzo as setup to protest; Omega felt sorry for the youngest of the brothers as his husband barked orders at him. With his gaze stubbornly fixed on the floor, Terzo quietly muttered, “I do not know what you mean, Omega. Everything is fine. You worry too much.” Omega’s eyes went wide, his heart skipping a beat. Oh no… this really was serious. Terzo’s use of Omega’s actual name instead of a pet name or term of endearment in casual, private conversation had Omega reeling. This was very out of the ordinary for his partner. 

“I don’t think I’m worrying too mu—” Omega started, but he was interrupted by their youngest child, the birthday girl, bumping into Terzo as she sprinted past, falling backward to the ground. Astrid sat there dazed for a brief moment before Terzo scooped the little ghoul up, deep concern lining his features. 

“La mia dolce bambina, are you alright?!” Terzo examined Astrid from head to toe, clutching her firmly against him in a tight hug when he was satisfied that no harm had been done. Sighing deeply and closing his eyes, Terzo discreetly sniffed her silky raven hair, pulling her closer. Astrid hugged back, accidentally snagging Terzo’s crisp, dark plum button-up shirt with her tiny claws. Terzo was unphased, used to pinholes and loose threads caused by their growing ghouls as they learned how to be careful with their clawed hands. “I’m sorry, Papa... I didn’t see you!” came Astrid’s response, muffled against Terzo’s neck. Allowing her to pull away, Terzo proceeded to smother her with kisses until she was squirming to be let go. “Papaaa, I wanna go play!” Astrid whined, drawing out his name as her spaded tail flicked in annoyance. Frowning, Terzo set her down on her feet before dusting off her dark blue dress, adorned with stars of a lighter hue. Noting that her shoelace was untied, he knelt down to re-tie it. She stomped the other foot impatiently, the sole of her sneaker lighting up in a rainbow of colors in response. Terzo ignored the rude gesture, rising to his feet and placing a hand on her head. 

“You need to be more careful, la mia gioia, we do not want you getting hurt at your own birthday party.” Terzo tried half-heartedly to sound stern as he gently chided their daughter, but Omega was sure that even the four-year-old saw through him. Astrid simply nodded before breaking away and running off again, no doubt to find her seven-year-old sister, Starlight. The guests wouldn’t be showing up for another couple of hours, so for the time being, Astrid and Starlight only had each other’s company. That would never stop the sisters from having fun; they were each other’s first and best friends. 

Watching Astrid leave, Terzo's eyes were sad, his arms wrapping around himself. Omega went to resume prodding Terzo about his mood, but quickly closed his mouth as realization dawned on him. Instead of further agitating his mate, Omega embraced Terzo from behind. Terzo stiffened at first, bristling, but when Omega nuzzled into his face and pressed a lingering kiss to his cheek, Terzo sagged against him. Feeling waves of melancholy radiating off of his beloved human with his quintessence, Omega tried once more, gently this time. 

“Mio amato, please… Tell me what's bothering you. We both know something's wrong.” Omega's voice was soft as he gave another kiss, this time to Terzo's neck. “I don't know why you bother trying to hide from me, after all these years.” He ran his nose delicately along Terzo's scar, a reminder of how lucky they were to still be together despite everything they’d been through. There was a long minute of silence between them, Omega waiting patiently. 

“I… I just want my principessa’s special day to be perfect. She is growing up so fast…” There was a tremor in Terzo's voice, and Omega was sure that he would have seen his husband’s lip quiver if he could see his face. “These occasions only happen once. I do not want to ruin them, to take them for granted…” He leaned his head back against Omega's chest, sighing in what sounded like defeat. 

But then Terzo shook his head and straightened, appearing to steel himself as his shoulders stiffened once more. “Omega,” his voice was jarringly sharp. “We do not have time for this. The guests will begin arriving soon, everything must be set up before then.” Abruptly breaking away from Omega’s embrace, he fixed the ghoul with a piercing glare before stalking away to dole out more orders to his brothers. Omega blinked rapidly, feeling disoriented and more than a little stung by the sudden and abrasive shift in demeanor from his usually loving, kind-hearted mate.   

Deciding to let it go for now and get back to the task at hand, Omega worked hard to finish decorating, trying not to dwell on how Terzo avoided looking at him. He did his best to stay upbeat for the sake of their daughters, burying his hurt. 

With a renewed focus, Omega ensured that they finished setting up about forty-five minutes before the party was set to begin. Standing back to admire their handiwork, Omega hummed with satisfaction. While Terzo continued to fuss over the finer details, straightening bows and adjusting streamers, everyone else began milling about, occupying themselves until the festivities started. 

The theme was an elegant take on the stars, the celestial decor a whimsical depiction of the heavenly bodies. Stylized images of the sun, moon, and stars could be found everywhere one looked, and the entire courtyard was decked out in hues of blue and gold. Streamers were hung from every available surface, balloons tied to each chair and anchored to the ground with weights. Dark blue cloths covered every table, glittering golden star-shaped confetti scattered across them. A large banner reading “Happy 4th Birthday, Astrid!” spanned half the length of the overhang, designed in a motif that matched the rest of the party. 

The scenery was very cute, and very Astrid. Their youngest, in keeping with her namesake, was fascinated with astronomy and astrology, drawn to anything and everything related to space. Perhaps her parents played a role in that. Together, they painted a mural of a swirling galaxy on the wall of the nursery that would later become the girls’ bedroom, once they found out they were expecting Starlight. That mural was still up, and they planned to keep it that way. Astrid’s baby blanket was patterned with stars and crescent moons, hand-knit by Omega himself. He just wanted to give his children the universe. Satanas knew they were his universe. 

Indeed, their girls' very names were a reflection of the night sky. The moon and stars had always played an important, meaningful role in Omega and Terzo’s relationship, and the couple were nothing if not sentimental. Watching Astrid take the subject and run with it in the way she did made Omega’s heart sing. 

The only feature in the courtyard now that looked out of place was the bounce castle, the pastel pink structure sticking out like a sore thumb amidst a sea of blue and gold. Terzo had been fuming about it ever since that fiery little human saw what he deemed “an abomination” when they arrived at the courtyard. Copia, who was in charge of renting the attraction, was pulled out of earshot of the girls and thoroughly chewed out, for a duration of time that Omega found cruel. The youngest of the brothers simply stood there and took the tongue-lashing, wringing his hands and occasionally weakly interjecting in his own defense before being steamrolled into silence.

“Look, fratello, it was this or Spiderman! I did the best I could, we’re lucky to have even gotten this one! Most companies won’t rent all the way out here, you have to–” Copia said in a rush when he finally found an opportunity to interrupt his brother’s tirade, flustered enough that his accent grew heavy, but he was swiftly cut off. 

“If you could not rent the right one, you should have bought one! No expense should be spared for such an occasion. Does your niece mean nothing to you?!” Terzo spat, crossing his arms and shifting his weight to one leg, his face red. 

Omega decided to intervene before things could get any uglier, pulling Terzo aside and attempting to calm him with his quintessence. It worked… a little. It was only once they overheard Starlight excitedly telling Astrid about how much she loved the pink castle that Terzo let it go. Omega should have known then that something was very wrong with his mate, but he was in denial, desperately wanting today to go smoothly.

“Astrid, my darling, would you please come here for just a moment?” Omega heard Terzo call from across the courtyard, the endearing sweetness in his voice standing out in stark contrast to his earlier irritation. Watching as their youngest dropped what she was doing to run to her Papa, Omega’s heart melted when he saw the softness of his husband’s face. His stomach did backflips at the tender smile that brightened Terzo's strikingly handsome features. 

The ghoul swore that Terzo was a natural-born nurturer, taking to parenthood like a duck to water. Omega was awestruck at being privileged enough to not only watch his soulmate blossom into his role as a father, but to get to do it with him. Sometimes Omega still couldn’t believe their years of yearning for a family had paid off… But it was true, and together, they had created and raised two extraordinary children. Sure, every parent thought their kids were the most important, the most beautiful, the most special people to have ever existed. But Omega’s girls? He may have been blinded by his own besotted bias, but Omega knew that his girls were the real deal. 

As their youngest approached Terzo, he knelt down to her level, catching her as she bumped into him yet again when she failed to stop on time. Cupping her face with both hands, Terzo gave her a playfully exaggerated kiss on the forehead, eliciting a giggle from their precious little ghoul. Terzo reached behind him to grab something from the table—a sash, dark blue with the words “Birthday Girl” written across it in glittering gold lettering. Astrid’s face fell when he draped it across her shoulder. 

“But–but Papa!” Astrid protested. “I told you it’s too itchy!” Terzo frowned, although he quickly smoothed his features over into a mask of patience. Indeed, they’d already had this conversation at home the day the accessory arrived in the mail. The sash was actually one half of a set, the other half being a golden tiara inlaid with sparkling blue gems. Astrid’s bottom lip began to quiver less than a minute into trying the tiara on, the girl tearing up and becoming visibly overwhelmed. 

Terzo had been too distracted by how cute she looked, too busy making sure every hair was perfectly in place, to notice her distress. When she turned her gaze up to her Daddy, a pleading look in the beautiful mismatched eyes she inherited from her Papa, Omega gently removed it from her head, taking care not to pull her hair. Terzo opened his mouth, looking confused, but quickly closed it when Astrid wiped away a tear. They decided then to ditch the headpiece, opting for a simple golden star barrette in her hair instead. Terzo had to hide his disappointment from Astrid, but Omega knew that Terzo wasn’t disappointed with her, just adjusting to the change of plans. Terzo always had a hard time dealing with his plans changing. 

The sash proved to be a little more tolerable, although Astrid still didn’t like it, complaining of how it irritated her skin. Ever the obedient child and always eager to please her parents, she tried her best to deal with the annoying addition to her outfit. Even still, she was just freshly four years old, only able to control her emotions so much. 

“La mia bellissima ragazza, it is only for a couple of hours. Once you get used to it, you will not even notice it anymore!” Terzo pleaded softly with the birthday girl. “Please try for me, my little lunar princess… You look so precious with your sash.” At this, Astrid swallowed hard, nodding as she looked at the floor. Terzo’s face split into a wide grin. Rubbing her back lovingly, Terzo gave her a more delicate kiss, this time on the cheek. “You can go play with Star again now, Papa is sorry for interrupting.” Terzo turned around too soon to see how slow Astrid moved as she walked back to her big sister, to notice how dejected she looked. 

Omega crossed the courtyard to his where his children were playing, ruffling Starlight’s soft white hair but simply placing a hand on Astrid’s head, unwilling to muss her hair and risk drawing Terzo’s ire. “How are my favorite girls doing? Are you excited for the party?” Omega asked the siblings warmly. 

“Yeah!” Starlight exclaimed. “I can’t wait to bounce in the castle, I’m so happy Uncle Copia got a pink one!” Omega chuckled; oh, how he adored his oldest’s love for the color pink. He couldn't help his amusement over this absurd castle fiasco. Did it really matter if one detail was out of line with the theme of a four-year-old's birthday party? Who amongst friends and family would care, or even notice? 

Omega's eyes then fell on Astrid, who was squirming and fidgeting where she sat on the floor. He felt a pang of sympathy in his chest for his youngest, who he knew was too worried about disappointing her Papa to speak up for herself. Squatting to her level, Omega noticed that Astrid’s skin, a purple-toned grey just like her Daddy’s and sister’s, was darkened around the sash. He could tell that she’d already been scratching. Unable to let this continue, Omega took action, gently tilting Astrid’s face up by the chin to look at him. 

“Astrid, sweetpea? You don’t have to wear that thing all day, I promise,” Omega cooed, keeping his voice low. Checking to make sure Terzo wasn't looking, he slipped the sash off over her head and placed it in her lap instead. “Just keep it handy for when they start taking photos, ok?” Omega cautioned. Astrid nodded, already looking more relaxed. Before he could stand up, Astrid grabbed one of his large hands in both of hers and squeezed tightly. “Thank you, Daddy.” Her voice was quiet, matching Omega’s volume. Omega’s heart felt full to bursting, a tender smile overtaking his face. His head swam as gratitude and disbelief battled for space. Disbelief that was so unspeakably lucky to have the family that he did, that they overcame all of the impossible odds stacked against them. They had gone through hell and somehow still come out on the other side, together. Being given not only Terzo, but now the two little loves of his eternal life, was surely more than he deserved. It was a gift he wouldn’t dare take for granted, so he took a moment to savor the feeling of his hand in hers. 

“Anything for my girls.” 

As much as Omega wanted to sit and play with his children for a while, there was something else that needed to be done before the party started. Taking care to avoid his husband as he slipped into the main building, Omega began to hunt for his oldest friend. Omega hoped he wasn’t too angry with Terzo to return to the party. 

While it was true that Omega and Alpha’s relationship had been… tumultuous, over the centuries, they always made up. Omega’s latest, most egregious transgression had been the way he prioritized Terzo over the fire ghoul. Tensions were high since the very first time Omega and Terzo hooked up over thirty years ago; sleeping with humans was very dangerous for ghouls under the thumb of the ministry back then. Alpha was infuriated by Omega’s willingness to risk it all for some tail.

Alpha eventually forgave Omega. At least, until Terzo’s death and subsequent resurrection sent Omega into a tailspin. The problem wasn’t necessarily Terzo’s resurrection itself, it was the way Omega reacted. The way Omega desperately clung to Terzo, the way he sequestered himself away with his newly returned husband for months and neglected everyone else in his life, created a rift between the ghouls so deep that Omega feared they could never repair it. Omega tried, but things just weren’t the same. 

When Starlight was born, though, Omega had an urgent reason to reach out for support, desperately trying to piece back together his still-shattered mental health. Omega was an anxious mess. Turns out the anxiety and PTSD from a trauma as massive as your spouse being murdered doesn’t just go away, even if they return to you alive and well. It also turns out that there is no precedent for such a situation, no guide or professional advice to follow. Omega needed all the help he could get, if not for his sake, then for the sake of his daughter. So, he set out to rebuild his crumbling support network, starting with the ghoul he’d always called his best friend: Alpha. 

To say that Alpha was skeptical at first was an understatement. He wasn’t just skeptical, he was pissed, and deeply hurt. He had been quietly, bitterly fuming for years at the way he was so callously tossed aside. Humans were fleeting, a flash in the pan; Alpha’s friendship with Omega was supposed to be as eternal as the pit from whence they came. Already having seen what would happen to Omega when Terzo died for good, having supported him through it once, there was no way he was going through it again. Not for some asshole who would forget he even existed over a human. 

After a heart-to-heart where Omega admitted his wrongdoings and apologized, Alpha reluctantly agreed to start dedicating time to repairing their relationship. Omega, wanting Alpha to be involved in Starlight’s life, invited him over to their quarters. Initially, Alpha was repulsed by the half-human infant, sniffing her and making faces, holding her as far away from his body as he could and stating that he didn’t want to get drooled or spit-up on. 

But before long, Alpha was playing with the baby on the floor and taking naps with her on the sofa, her precious little head tucked under his chin as they both slept. Sometimes Omega wondered if Alpha came over to hang out with him, or to spend time with Terzo and Omega’s daughter. He didn’t care either way; surrounding Starlight with more people who loved her was a thrill. When Starlight grew into a rambunctious toddler and Omega and Terzo welcomed their second child, Alpha visited even more often, alternating between play-fighting with the oldest and cradling the youngest close to his chest. True to his stubborn nature, Alpha still pretended to be aloof when pressed about his attachment to them, much to Omega’s amusement. Some things never change. Their shared love for the children saved their friendship regardless. 

Alpha falling head over heels for the girls even managed to do the impossible task of softening Alpha’s heart towards Terzo. 

Although Alpha and Terzo eventually became friends about a year into their relationship, it had never been easy. Alpha always had a hard time hiding his resentment for Terzo. After all, Alpha was no longer Omega’s closest confidant, with Terzo taking Alpha’s spot as the most important person in Omega’s life. To Omega’s surprise, the human was very understanding, fighting hard that first year to win Alpha over. If Alpha was important to Omega, then he was important to Terzo, too. Terzo knew all too well how crucial it was to have people in your life who care about you. He wanted Omega to be loved, just like Omega now wanted their children to be loved. 

But Alpha’s resentment for Terzo returned tenfold when he experienced Omega’s utter destruction at the hands of Terzo’s death. Alpha blamed Terzo for Omega’s suffering, and his resentment grew when Terzo returned and Omega forgot all about Alpha. After all of the support Alpha gave Omega when he became a widower, after all he did to try and build the quintessence ghoul back up… the fact that Terzo could come waltzing back in and cause Omega to toss his best friend aside was a slap in the face. Alpha almost hated Terzo for it.

Terzo understood even then, immediately forgiving Alpha and welcoming him back into their lives once he started coming around again. Alpha was part of their family. That was why it was so important that Omega convince him to come back to the party. Astrid needed Alpha to be there. He was an integral part of her life. Of all of their lives.

Thankfully, Alpha was easy to find, sitting in his quarters playing video games the way he usually did in his downtime. His eyes rolled hard when he answered the door and saw Omega, but he let him in anyway. Settling down on the sofa beside Alpha, Omega turned his body to face his friend. Knowing that the clock was ticking, he decided to jump straight to the point. 

“C’mon, dude, you need to come back. You know how upset Astrid is gonna be if her Uncle Alpha isn’t there for her big day. Especially since she already saw you.” Alpha balled up his fists and looked at the floor, saying nothing. “I’ll tell Terzo to leave you alone. The decorating is already done, you can just relax and hang out. He won’t get you,” he assured the fire ghoul with a half-hearted chuckle. Alpha exhaled hard through his nose and leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. 

“What’s his majesty’s problem anyway?” Alpha snarked, not bothering to conceal his irritation.

Omega ignored the sarcastic jab at his husband, sighing at the situation. This wasn’t how he wanted anyone to spend such a special day… They were supposed to be celebrating Astrid, not fighting amongst themselves. Thinking about how hard Terzo was icing him out stung; coldness was so rare now in their relationship. Omega felt like they grew closer with each passing day, so being met with anger and irritation from his mate was a shock to Omega’s system. It made him feel vulnerable and off balance. Except for when Terzo’s raging hormones had made him irritable and testy during both of his pregnancies, his partner’s fiery temperament normally gentled to a warm, welcoming glow around Omega. 

“I don’t know, man. He’s obviously stressed out, but I have no clue why. Today is supposed to be a good day.” Omega rubbed at his temples as he spoke. “At least he’s hiding it from the girls. Astrid would be crushed if she knew her Papa was upset on her big day. She’d think it was her fault.” He saw Alpha clench his jaw out of the corner of his eye. “I’m surprised they haven’t picked up on it with their quintessence, they’re very sensitive. He’s getting better at masking his emotions. I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.” 

“It’s so fucking selfish to get your panties in a twist over some stupid decorations at a four-year-old’s birthday party. Who cares how it looks?! The kid just wants to have fun with her friends!” Thin wisps of smoke began to rise from the fire ghoul’s body. Ah, shit. Omega didn’t want Alpha to get worked up today. The last thing they needed was to have to put him out. Omega placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder to try to ground him, ignoring the way Alpha’s skin burned against his palm. Alpha closed his eyes, taking several deep breaths and slumping back against the couch. The smoke dissipated. 

“Alpha, look. Terzo isn’t just stressed out, he’s upset about something. He’s sad. I just… I don’t know what he’s sad about.” Omega felt his own sorrow, knowing his mate was suffering in silence when they were supposed to be celebrating their little girl together. But Terzo wouldn’t even look at him, and it cut deeper than he wanted to acknowledge. “And you know how stubborn he is,” Omega added, although Terzo’s obstinacy was a given. “He’s not gonna talk to me about it until he’s ready.” Alpha snorted. 

“I still think he’s being selfish. That guy needs a therapist.” 

Omega trailed after Alpha to the courtyard, suddenly feeling like he was the one being dragged back. There was a pit in his stomach, his mind racing with all the ways today could go wrong now that Terzo was in such a sour mood. He hated feeling this way; he wanted today to be perfect, for everyone to be happy. So why was he dreading crossing paths with his own husband?

As soon as Omega stepped out into the blinding sunlight, he knew something was wrong. Waves of distress immediately began to prick at his quintessence, and his stomach dropped when he placed the unmistakably familiar source.

Astrid. 

Frantically scanning for his daughter, he found her sitting with her sister and two of their friends, who must have arrived early. Hurriedly crossing the open space to them, he realized with a grimace exactly what was wrong with his youngest: she was wearing that damn sash again. Terzo must’ve noticed its absence and taken issue with it. Anger threatened to bubble up within Omega, but he fought it back. That wouldn’t do anything but escalate their situation, especially with Terzo in his current emotional state. More importantly, Omega knew Terzo deserved compassion just like their daughter did, not anger. No part of him wanted to fight with his husband. Omega needed to keep a level head. 

When Omega reached the group of children, he knelt down in front of Astrid and placed a hand on her cheek. Her overstimulation was evident in the way she held herself, and her eyes were watery with unshed tears. Starlight was already holding her sister’s hand before he got there, smoothing a clawed thumb across it. Omega looked around for Terzo, quickly spotting him. He was walking away from the girls, Omega must have just missed him. He supposed that was a good thing; at least Astrid hadn’t been wearing the sash for very long. He turned back to face the kids, giving his youngest his full attention. 

“Baby girl, what’s wrong?” he asked softly, despite already knowing the answer. She leaned her cheek into his hand, and a single tear spilled over. Omega gently wiped it away. “P-Papa s-says I have to put the s-sash on again,” Astrid stuttered, her eyes fixed on the ground. Omega’s earlier promise that she could keep the sash off hung heavy between them. He could tell that she was trying not to get upset, to do as she was asked. But it was clear as day how overwhelmed the accessory was making her. Even now, she was visibly trying not to squirm and scratch. He looked at Starlight, who looked concerned and confused, but simply shrugged at him and gripped Astrid’s hand tighter. Omega desperately wanted to take the sash off of her again, anything to ease away her discomfort, but there was no point; he had to talk to Terzo first. Otherwise, they could be stuck in this cycle all day. 

“I’m… I’m gonna go talk to Papa. We’re gonna figure out together exactly what we want you to do, ok?” Omega said as he reached out to her with his quintessence, trying to soothe her. Astrid took a deep, shuddering sigh and wiped at her nose. After a moment, she slowly nodded her head. Omega rose to his feet and headed in the direction he’d seen Terzo walk off. He spotted the man leaning against a column in a far, empty corner, running his hands through his hair. 

“Terzo,” Omega called as he approached him from behind, inadvertently returning the first-name treatment he himself had received earlier that day. Terzo didn’t respond. When Omega placed a hand on his partner’s shoulder, Terzo jumped, startled, and spun to face Omega. When he saw who he was, Terzo averted his gaze. Omega could tell that Terzo knew what this was about, but the look on Terzo’s face nearly stopped him in his tracks. His expression wasn’t angry, but forlorn, and Omega thought he saw the remnants of tear tracks marring his olive skin.  

“Tesoro,” Omega tried again, softer this time, pushing past how anxious his husband’s behavior made him. They had to address the issue. “My love. My light. Please… Cut Astrid some slack. She's four.” He could’ve sworn he saw Terzo wince at that last part. “She doesn’t want to wear that itchy thing all day! She's so little, how’s she supposed to play with her friends with a huge sash in the way?” Omega tried to reason. Terzo properly looked at him for the first time in what felt like forever, only to lock eyes with the ghoul defiantly, his mismatched gaze boring into Omega. He opened his mouth to argue, but Omega cut him off before he could. No. He wouldn’t bend to Terzo’s will. Not today. Omega needed to put his foot down. 

“I already told her she doesn’t have to wear it all day,” he stated in no uncertain terms. “I need you to relax, amore, this is her party. She’s just a kid. Let her have fun!” Omega kept his tone light, but his eyes were pleading. Terzo’s handsome face was stubbornly set, and Omega wanted to kiss away his scowl, but didn’t dare push his luck. “Look. How about she keeps it off to play, but we have her put it back on when we take the official group photos? I think that’s perfectly reasonable for a child her age…” Omega ran a hand up and down Terzo’s arm, desperately trying to calm his mate’s nerves. “Besides, I promised her.” 

Terzo looked away, thinking it over while he chewed on his nails again. Even when Omega gently pried his hand away from his mouth, Terzo kept his eyes fixed on some far-off point. After an agonizing moment, Terzo nodded. 

“Sì, fine, she can keep it off for now.” Terzo turned and walked away without another word, headed for where the children still sat. Omega watched Terzo take the sash from Astrid for the time being, not satisfied with leaving until he smoothed out her hair and outfit. Terzo wrapped her up in a tight hug, and Omega could tell he was apologizing to her. Despite the hurt and confusion at being treated so coldly by his partner, Omega couldn’t help but smile fondly at the sight; Terzo was such a good father to their children. 

Once the guests began arriving, Terzo was on his A-game. Terzo was always good at this part, having been trained his whole life to perform for others. Warmly greeting adults and children alike, Omega could see the effort he put into making sure everyone felt welcome and at ease. The ghoul knew this charismatic front was a facade, though. It masked deep insecurities and burnout from being on display for the public to gawk at his entire life—and unfortunately, even in death. Terzo would often crash hard after events like these.

In attendance were Terzo’s brothers and Alpha, of course, but also many of the ghouls they’d maintained friendships with over the years. The entire band from the Meliora era showed up, plus a few ghouls who toured during Impera’s run. There were ghouls Terzo had been friends with since he’d moved to this particular ministry compound at the age of twelve, as well as ghouls the couple had befriended together. Human friends were rare for Terzo, but there were a few in attendance. 

Out of the thirty-six children who resided within the ministry grounds, their numbers comprised of humans and ghouls alike, fourteen showed up, plus one ghoul kit who’d been brought along. Terzo oohed and aahed over the kit, cooing at him and appearing reluctant to pass him back to his mother when the time came. He overheard Terzo politely offer to watch the baby if, at any point, his parents need a break. Omega knew his mate well enough to know how badly he wanted to be taken up on that offer.

At any rate, Omega was quite pleased with the number of children in attendance. All thirty-six children had received an invitation, even those with bigoted parents. With the tensions that remained following the release of ghouls from ministry servitude less than a decade ago, fourteen was better than he’d hoped for.

Since he and Terzo welcomed the first half-human, half-ghoul children born in the ministry in centuries, their family was politicized by many. They wanted to start a family much sooner, but their relationship had been forbidden; they had only just stepped out from the shadows as a couple. Humans and ghouls were supposed to be on equal footing ever since Frater Copia’s radical takeover, but mingling was still taboo. Even now, Omega’s sweet babies were sometimes subjected to whispers and dirty looks, no matter how hard their parents tried to protect them. 

So, fourteen children showing up this time? That was three more than the last birthday party! In Omega’s opinion, that was a huge win. Perhaps it was a testament to how magnetic their children were, how lovable they proved themselves to be. 

Once everyone arrived, Copia gave the all-clear for children to start playing in the bounce castle. The kids went wild with excitement, Starlight leading the charge. She’d already taken her shoes off ten minutes beforehand and sat impatiently waiting on the ground in front of the castle. With lightning speed, Starlight climbed in and began jumping, breaking out into a fit of giggles. Astrid wasn’t far behind, but before she could enter the temporary structure, Terzo called to her and grabbed her hand.

“Yes, Papa?” Astrid asked curiously. Terzo smoothed her hair, getting rid of any flyaways. Omega didn’t understand the point; her hair would be a mess once she was done in the castle anyway. “Please be careful in there, ok, tesorina mia? Stay close to your sister, do not let any of the bigger kids be mean or rough with you.” Terzo kissed her cheek. Astrid fidgeted, anxious to go play with everyone else. “Ok Papa, I promise, please let me go!” Astrid responded, probably with more irritation than Terzo was expecting. He felt bad for his partner, but their daughter deserved to have fun. Omega could hardly fault her for getting annoyed that she was being left out. As Astrid ran off, Omega started walking towards Terzo to try and comfort him. Seeing him coming, Terzo turned his back, crossing his arms in a way that telegraphed he wanted to be left alone. Oh, come on now, what the hell?!

Terzo monitored the kids as they jumped, ever the eagle-eyed protector. As a few stray children began exiting the bounce castle for rest and water, Omega directed their attention to the craft table. He’d taken the liberty of running that activity today. They were painting clay models of Earth’s solar system, which Omega sculpted beforehand so that their guests wouldn’t be painting over wet clay. Making solar systems was Starlight’s suggestion, and the idea that Astrid liked the best. The job of figuring out how to execute the craft and preparing the supplies naturally had fallen on Omega, their family’s craftiest member. At least, their family’s craftiest member so far. Who knew when his girls might outpace him?  

Each kid received their own solar system to paint, plus an apron that they got to take home. The aprons had been embroidered with a yellow moon and star on the pocket. Omega stitched the designs himself. Supplies dwindled as more children made their way over, but they ended up having just enough. More and more children decided to sit down and eat as the afternoon wore on, but Terzo never left his station at the castle, watching over the remaining bouncers.  Omega began to worry; he knew his mate hadn’t eaten since breakfast, too stressed and distracted by getting everything ready for their guests. 

His station empty, Omega took a risk and tried talking to Terzo again. Not wanting to startle him this time, he approached from the side. No placing a hand on his shoulder, either. Terzo glanced up at him as he neared, but quickly redirected his attention towards the pastel pink castle. Omega grimaced. “Mio amato, don’t you think you should eat something? I know you must be hungry by now.” Omega kept his voice soft, almost feeling like he was trying not to scare away an unfriendly cat. He’d never considered Terzo to be “unfriendly” before, at least not towards him. Well, perhaps when they first met, but Omega didn’t hold that against him. 

Terzo didn’t turn to look at him. 

“No, I am fine. Someone has to keep watch of the children, I do not want anyone getting hurt.” Terzo sounded almost robotic, ratcheting Omega’s anxiety up a notch. Omega was just about to open his mouth again to protest, but he heard a familiar voice from behind them. “Hey lovebirds, what’s up?” Water called to the pair casually. “You two have been working so hard that I’ve barely seen you all day!” Omega was immediately relieved to see their old friend and former bandmate. “Why don’t you go make a plate, boss?” the ghoul suggested as he clapped Terzo on the shoulder. “Go spend some time with your girls and your guests, I got this.” 

“W-What? No, I’ve–” Terzo stuttered, apparently not expecting someone else to call him out. Water was having none of it.

“Nah, you’re taking a break. I’m not taking no for an answer.” Water’s voice was resolute.  “This should be your party, too! I mean. Four years ago to the day, you birthed a whole entire ghoul kit to make this happen! Not an easy task.” Terzo’s face flushed, and Omega couldn’t help but snicker under his breath at Terzo’s outrage at the comment. It was cute. 

“That is none of your—” Terzo started, but Water cut him off again. 

“I know we do a lot of arguing, but not today, big guy. I’m not taking no for an answer,” Water repeated. Terzo glowered at Water, his eyes darting between their friend and Omega, as though silently accusing Omega of having something to do with this. After a few moments of this, Terzo threw his hands in the air, exasperated. He stalked off, but then seemed to remember their guests were watching and straightened up, slowed down. Water elbowed Omega as Terzo walked away. 

“I got you, dude. Go be with your man,” Water said in his cool, easy way of speaking. Nothing else needed to be said. Omega nodded his thanks and followed after his husband, but he was stalled by another parent looking to make small talk. Omega navigated the conversation as gracefully as he could, but eventually he gave in to his anxiety and made up an excuse to leave. He hoped he hadn’t come across as rude, especially not to one of the humans who supported their family, but his head was swimming. Something deep within him was screaming out for comfort and assurance from his partner; he wasn’t used to being treated this way. Not by Terzo.

When Omega found Terzo, he was surprised to see him seated with their friends’ baby in his lap, watching with a wide grin as Starlight played peekaboo with him, the kit’s giggles seemingly contagious. Starlight laughed right along with him. Omega’s face broke out in a grin rivaling Terzo’s, and he knelt down to Starlight’s level as she played with the infant. “Making a new friend?” Omega asked his oldest with a chuckle, and she nodded in response. Omega ruffled her hair affectionately. The scene reminded him of how delighted Starlight was to play with her little sister when Astrid was this age. Almost by accident, Omega made eye contact with Terzo, surprised and relieved to see that his husband’s smile wasn’t fading in his presence. When they locked eyes, Terzo’s expression seemed almost apologetic. Almost. After a moment, Terzo returned his attention back to the borrowed baby, lightly tickling his ribs and letting out a chuckle of his own when the sweet little guy squealed with delight. 

Soon, though, the child’s parents returned. Terzo relinquished the kit with grace, his smile never fading… Until the parents walked off, baby in tow. Even though Omega could see Terzo try to fight it off this time, the dark cloud that had followed Terzo all day returned. Even Starlight seemed to notice, climbing into Terzo’s lap and leaning on his shoulder. At least she was bringing him comfort, not to mention keeping him in his chair where he could rest. 

“Keep Papa company while I get him something to eat, and make sure he stays here,” Omega murmured in his daughter’s ear. Starlight nodded dutifully, a serious look crossing her cherubic face. He kissed the crown of her head and straightened, making his way to the food table as Starlight began to talk Terzo’s ear off in the way she did so well. As he walked away, he regretted not taking the risk of giving Terzo a matching kiss.  

Omega heaped Terzo’s plate with more food than his human would ever eat in one sitting, but he hoped that perhaps the social pressure to clean his plate would encourage him to at least eat a healthy portion. He would need fuel to get through the rest of the long day ahead of them. Terzo’s eyes widened for just a second when he saw the amount of food Omega was bringing him, but he quickly replaced his neutral expression. Starlight saw Omega coming and hopped up, taking Terzo by the hand and guiding him to a table so he could set his plate down. Omega found Astrid and made plates for both of the girls as well, but feeding himself ended up being an afterthought, something Starlight had to remind him to do. He supposed that he and Terzo shared that trait, always putting their family before their own well-being. It wasn’t something that Omega foresaw changing anytime soon. Starlight continued to cling to Terzo, being extra affectionate as she kept him company. Omega didn’t think she realized the extent of Terzo’s troubles, but she could definitely see something was wrong. Of course, Terzo returned the affection, but Omega could tell his partner still wasn’t feeling himself. Omega didn’t want to make Starlight sit out the party, so once her sister ran off, he excused her.  

“Go play with everyone else, princess. Papa will still be here when you get back, I promise,” Omega told their oldest with a discreet wink and a thankful smile. She gave her Papa a big kiss on the cheek, then her Daddy, before skipping off towards the bounce castle. Despite the chaos of the day and Terzo’s frigid attitude towards him, Omega couldn’t help but feel warm inside. No matter what, he had his family, and that was enough. He knew that everything would be ok. 

The couple finished eating in silence, sitting in their usual positions side by side, even if Terzo had decided he wasn’t speaking to Omega. Omega wanted so badly to just move a little closer, to lean his head on Terzo, but he resisted. He really wanted to avoid making the situation any worse. 

[slymanner]

Look all I'm saying is if that a shadow game can work THAT well and be so well designed story wise and gameplay wise

HE can work

[lambilegs]

GUYSSSSS LOOK AT THE CUP MY FRIEND BOUGHT ME WHEN WE WENT OUT THIS SHIT BELONGS IN A MUSEUM LIKEEEEEE

[simptasia]

you know britpicking? like where an american writes a fanfic set in england, or with an english character, and they get an english friend to look through it and check through it to see if the terms and phrases are accurate? (eg. flat instead of apartment)

well i propose there be such a concept for star trek

because people in star trek talk differently than modern humans. they use different words, different slang, phrasings. yes, they can speak casually but mostly it isn't like us. watch any of 90s trek and you'll see These People Do Not Speak Like Us

and, no disrespect, a lot of fic does not reflect this. and it irks me. they just speak like modern day people instead of... star trek characters. i personally think part of the fun of writing trek characters is writing it out to how they speak and how they would think

hell, this isnt even a fanfic problem. modern trek has this issue too. i think outta laziness. they have their people talking (and when in casual wear, dressing) like 2020s people and it pisses me off

its part of why strange new worlds feels like a high budget SNL skit

annnnyways. i propose this idea be called fact trekking

[muntitled]

Better Than Drugs

Pairings: Namgyu x Fem!Reader | Brief!Thanos x Fem!Reader

Summary: Reconnecting with your shitty ex boyfriend in the games.

Warnings: Language, Substance Abuse, Toxic Relationship, Male Manipulation, Coercion, Smut (+18) mdni, High sex, Dub/con, Choking, Exchange of Bodily Fluids, Unprotected Sex, Unedited (we die like soldiers)

A/n: literally no one will read this but I need him and I wrote this for me!

Being treated like a lamb being led to the proverbial slaughter in a death game sucked ass but seeing your ex boyfriend there sucked even more, somehow. From your vantage point perched on your bed tucked away from all the central conflict, you notice them talking about you again.

Call it past bully traum but you knew when people were talking about you and although you couldn't make out what they were saying, a part of you just knew...

Another vote had ended and Namgyu was still staring at you, his head bowed, chewing his fingernails. He was watching you, while you were forced to watch as democracy crumbled around you.

Your brain made you think Namgyu was perhaps berating you in front of his new friend. Bad-mouthing you to absolutely no end, perhaps saying what a lousy, uptight girlfriend you had been in the outside world. How you kept him from his habit. How you tried to force him into rehab countless times.

And so you shrink into yourself, squeezing yourself further into your bed, hugging your knees.

How were you supposed to know the conversation went nothing like how you thought it was going?

"We need to get her on our team," Thanos had said when the voting concluded and they were watching you pick at your roll of tin-foiled kimbap.

"She's already on our team," Namgyu muttered, more quiet than usual as he watched you through the corner of his eye. He didn't feel like eating. He felt like doing drugs. And fucking, maybe, but eating? It never occurred to him.

Without you to remind him to eat, and to actually take care of his bodily health outside of his substance abuse, he really was a mess.

"Oh yeah," Thanos muttered dumbly before turning back to his own food, "Kay, well, I need to sleep with her."

Namgyu didn't even look up from his food, still leaning against the metal beds as he murmured a quiet, "Nope." Popping his lip, extenuating the 'p'

Thanos himself was rallied into silence as Namgyu casually clicked his tongue before adding, "I called dibs on that bro," he steals another glance. You're searching your chest for a piece of cucumber that's fallen out of the kimbap

This unfortunately, zeroes his gaze in on your ample chest, miraculously squeezed into that tracksuit jacket. Now Namgyu was thinking about your tits while Thanos' head whips to the side, his brow lifted.

Namgyu couldn't take his eyes off you since the games began. Watching you during voting time had stirred up all kinds of lost emotions. The easy and almost thoughtless way you had pressed the blue button before tucking your hands in your pockets, never sparing anyone a second glance. He had to adjust the bulge forming in his sweatpant. If it weren't for him you might have continued to go amongst the games as an anonymous spectre, with that cash prize as your only goal.

"I didn't know we were calling dibs!?" Thanos stomped his feet petulantly, "That's not fair, man. Not. Cool."

"That's the point of dibs," Namgyu said, pushing his hair behind his ears as he continued to stare you down. "Who knows how long we'll be here?" As he watched you, he tilted his head downwards, causing a thick shadow to fall over his eyes as he watched you. He leaned against the railings of the metal beds piled up to the ceiling, watching you tuck your hands deeper into the sleeves of your sweater. Really fucking cute.

"B-But Homies don't call dibs on girls!" Thanos whines.

"Yeah," Namgyu nods, "but, I'm gonna need more than magic pills and a homie to get me through the night," He made a ring with his index and thumb finger, pinching his one eye shut as he spied at you through it, "She can help,”

Thanos was quiet, eerily so. Good things never happened when Thanos was quiet,

"Let's go over to her right now then. Since she's stealing my homie-"

That immediately snapped Namgyu out of his lust-filled gaze, promoting his shoulders to straighten as he tried to stop Thanos from taking another step towards you.

"Senorita-" he said in a singsong voice and you rolled your eyes as you saw them approaching. Namgyu walked behind like the shadow he always tried to be, with his hands tucked in his pocket. Your bed is relatively low to the ground and your heart stammered when both their shadows fell over you.

"Don't have any change," your eyes whipped to your ex-boyfriend before narrowing, "Or drugs. Sorry." you mustered a painfully sarcastic smile as you attempted to turn in another direction, hoping they might take the hint.

Thanos' teeth stretched as Namgyu swallowed thickly, watching you in that distinctly predatory way of his as he propped his forearm against the railing of the bed. You hate how both of them make you feel and your eye scans in vain around the premises, hoping someone might save you from the duo.

"Lemme make this quick," Thanos said with his drug addicted hand gestures. "My bro wants you and whatever bro wants-" he taps Namgyu's chest behind you- "Bro gets."

Silence passed with you staring deep into Namgyu's dark, almost sinister black eyes. You admitted that you were still painfully attracted to him. Knowing that he knows your body. He's already seen what hid under your blue tracksuit, it was dizzyingly sobering.

He still seemed so devastatingly sleezy it bordered on attractive, like he didn't care about what anyone really thought of him. It still brought an uncomfortable amount of attraction that you didn't really know what to do with. "No thanks," you said, bending your head to take a bite of the kimbap.

"Cunt." you heard him mumble under his breath. That caused your head whip up to glare at him.

"I'm a cunt because I'd rather not fuck a drug addict?"

"No," Namgyu shrugged, "You're just a cunt."

Your nostrils flared as something diabolical ignited inside you. Up until this point, fear had been the only emotion you allowed yourself to feel. The fear of dying to keep you alive. But right now, you're being plagued with another emotion and it's setting you alight with interest.

Your dating preferences were never orthodox. You knew you could never truly be satisfied with any other timid nice guy, and that's what drew you to him. You hated admitting to it but Namgyu calling you a cunt did more than irritate you, it ignited you.

"I'm not here to make friends,” You marvel now, in the tense darkness, how confident you had been then.

“How about a boyfriend then?” Namgyu asked and Thanos whistled lowly as he mutters a ‘nice bro,’

“How about choking?” You shot back, “I tried the boyfriend thing and he stole all my savings to buy drugs.” Namgyu’s jaw ticked and you can see his fist fold and unfold. Thanos’ commentary continues. ‘Shit boyfriend-’ he says under his breath.

“Don't be a bitch so early in the morning…” Namgyu says finally before turning his head, somewhat distracted, “Or at least I think it's morning. Hyung do you think it's morning-”

Thanos raised his hands, “Morning is what we make it in here, bro.”

“Leave me alone of I'll fucking scream.” you cut through all their useless chatter, letting a tense silence settle between the three of you. Eventually, Thanos reluctantly pulls Namgyu away. Murmuring a quiet ‘just take a hint bro.'

Soon, you were left in your bed but not without one more backwards glance from Namgyu over his shoulder. He wasn't done with you and that thought sat heavily on your shoulders until the robotic voice from unseen speakers made the countdown to lights out.

The very last thing you remembered, before the overhead lights were snuffed out, was his black, almond eyes still watching you from his bed.

The blue 'O' velcroed to your breast burns a hole through your conscience as your eyes flutter open in the middle of the night, really needing to pee. The prize money acts as the only source of gold light illuminating the hall while everyone else remains soundly asleep.

Life in the games was so much more stomachable during the day, but when the lights went out, you were forced to sit with your thoughts. That piggy bank didn't have money inside it, it held bodies, and the ghosts practically filled this room.

Still, you can't help but whisper to yourself, “I really have to pee.” The only thing stopping you from going to the bathroom is the gaze you knew would somehow find you from three beds over. Your ex boyfriend watches you, even when the lights go out.

Paranoia be damned.

Cursing softly, you maneuvered yourself to the ground. Trying to make the least amount of noise possible as you moved through the row of beds.

If you were being followed you'd never know. Everything was too dark but a part of you sighed as you reached the small arched doorway completely unscathed.

Almost unscathed.

Your heart hammers in its cage when you feel his heavy arm settle over your shoulders. Your mouth falls open but Namgyu is already banging on the arched door with a closed fist. You flinch with every loud, metallic hit.

The little window opens to reveal a triangle-masked soldier. He stands there emotionless.

“My girlfriend's on her period- she's bleeding everywhere. We need the bathroom.”

There is silence from the Guard who is clearly unimpressed. Just before the little window is about to slide shut Namgyu kicks at the door, “Hey! I wanna fuck my girl- if you want, we could do it out here?!”

You try to wrench yourself out of his grip, toilet be damned but your heart absolutely sinks to find the pink soldier opening the metal door.

Namgyu only twirls, pumping his fist before pulling you in his arms, biting back a smile.

“Can't believe that worked,” Namgyu says, with a raised eyebrow and a happy little shrug as he drags you across the threshold. The trip to the women's bathroom is relatively short as you writhe and fight in his hands. There's virtually no reason for the pink guard to think any of this was consensual but they kept their stoicism on their face as you reached the girl's bathroom.

“We'll be quick,” Namgyu assures the guard with a tight sort of smile before pushing you into the bathroom, and closing the door after himself.

You trip on your way running into one of the stalls and he watches you, biting his nail.

“This is the girls bathroom, or are you too high to notice?” You hiss absolute venom as he bites his fingernail.

“Nah, I'm sober right now, which means I need something to take the load off.”

“Cool. Use your hand,” you sigh from within the stalls before dropping your pants to pee. It irked you that he was standing there, on the other side… waiting for you.

You make quick work of it all. Wiping, flushing, and making a beeline for the sinks. He lets you wash your hands but before you make it to the door his arms are wrapped around your waist.

“Uh Uh,” he tsks, “No ‘i miss you’ kiss, huh?” He drags you into his arms, kicking and screaming as he swipes your brains from across your panicked face.

“Only competent boyfriends get kisses,” Despite the fuss, the door doesn't open. Those guards have quite literally abandoned you in here to fend for yourself.

“I can make it up to you,” he said, “I miss you really bad, baby,” Namgyu's pushing your back against the sink, stained with that sickening, pastel colour as he lowers his nose into the crook of your neck. You writhe as he breathes you in deeply, before sighing. His erection pressed against your thigh.

“Someone else could walk in here,” you cry, feeling a dampness seep out of you, wetting your underwear. Your body was being traitorous because it was enjoying feeling anything other than fear. It yearned for it.

“Sto-” you attempt to catch your breath as he gropes at your breasts from over your tracksuit. “Stop touching me-” you say despite your legs getting weaker and weaker.

“You don't get to touch me anymore. You lost that privilege when you stopped being my boyfriend.” He was so much taller than you when he stretched his hand across your cheeks, forcing your neck back to make more space for his lips. A moan nearly spills out of you.

His hands are trembling and his tongue swipes out to lick the length of your neck. To your shock and horror, you melt in his grasp.

“You don't mean that-” he whispers against your skin. “No one's gonna fuck you like I do-”

“No one's going to steal my money like you do either-”

His hand flies down to your throat, choking as he says through clenched teeth, “I told you I had a problem-” he squeezes and for the briefest moment, you see stars. “I needed help and you abandoned me, you bitch-”

“I didn't abandon you-” His lips are on yours, silencing you in one messy kiss that him forcing his tongue into your mouth.

“You gonna be good for me, Huh?’ He says, hoarsely, your eyes glare up at him.

“Leave me alone-”

“You know I love it when you try to fight back,” his mouth breathes against your hair, “You trying to get me riled up babe, huh?”

His fingers find the lining of your own sweatpants and your heart stammers as he turns to push your front against the sink. Your hand grips at the cheap plaster and you avoid your own traitorous reflection in the mirror, lest you find not only fear in your eyes, but lust

“You know how bad I've needed this- fuck,” his voice cracks when fumbles his cock out, grinding against your ass with his eyes closed in ecstasy and his mouth hanging open. Your finger curls around the sink as the first moan slips out of you. It had his eyes flying open to look down at you in amusement and awe.

“I knew you weren't a completely stuck-up bitch,” he says, pulling you up by the base of the throat, “I knew you still wanted me.”

“I don't,” you squeak out as he pulls down your pants.

“No- but your body does,” he swipes your underwear to the side.

Your body spasms as he roughly sinks his digits into you once before pulling out.

“You miss me real bad,” he brings your fingers up in front of your face and your heart drops to find the arousal webbing his index and middle.

He continues to swipe your arousal from from your ass to your puffy clit and the need wracks through your entire body, building as you arched your ass backwards against him.

His mouth is by your ear, breathing heavily as he lines his cock up at your entrance, already leaking precum, “I know I gave you hell when we were out there-”

“Hell doesn't begin to cover- FUCK-” he rams his cock into you. Positively brimming with need as his hips stutter against you.

“Y-ou stole my fucking savings for drugs-” you get the sentence out quickly before moaning into the air, as your boyfriend fucks out all the frustration he's been carrying, all the need and the withdrawal.

“And I ate you out as an apology-” He reaches his hand around to clamp down on the base of your throat. Your mouth falls open when he cranes our neck back, his eyes boring into yours. “Don't you miss it baby, don't miss having me inside of you?”

“Y-Your eyes are diluted-” you begin to say, utterly incredulous. “You're high right now!”

His hips thrusts in shallow, quick strokes. “And your pussy's wet, guess we're both fucked.”

Your pussy tightens around him like a long lost friend, it knocks you out how deeply you've craved him. Needing reprieve from all the fear. “You're squeezing around my cock, you fucking slut-” that nearly has you seeing stars. Your body spasms.

“That it…” he whispers, “Don't think I haven't forgotten the way you abandoned me out there… But in here,” your eyes roll to the back of your head, “You dont so much as fucking breathe without my permission.”

Your eyes squeeze shut as his cock hits that particular pillow of nerves inside you, nearly flipping you off the edge.

“Spit on my hand,” he says, an edge to his voice that let you know he was far too close. You forgot how messy things got when you had sex with him. How much of a mess he made of you.

You do it without thinking about it and his eyes widen as he presses that same hand to your clit.

“F-Fuck!” Your eyes are squeezed shut as he reaches around to rub you to your orgasm. His movements only fumble when his hips start stuttering.

“N-Need you to cum for me-” he breathes out. “I’m jittery- baby. I need it- shit-” you slip into your orgasm right in front of him, milking his cock for all its worth. “F-Fuck this is so much better than drugs,” he murmers, eyes rolled back as a drunken smile ghosts over his face. He's in complete and utter euphoria.

Two rough knocks on the door signal the need for your return but Namgyu's cock is still spilling ropes of his cum inside you and you're doing nothing but taking it.

“I hate you,” you breathe out, because it's true. If it weren't for him you wouldn't be here.

His breath is warm against your neck as he says, “I love you too.

© to @muntitled on tumblr; do not repost

[dc-gotham-instincts-wild]

Headcanon that Jason just kidnaps his siblings instead of asking them to hang out sometimes.

Sometimes he does the normal abduction thing and other times he has his methods.

Dick: Jason sneaks into Dick’s apartment in Blüdhaven at 3 AM, throws him over his shoulder, and drags him to his motorcycle. Dick wakes up mid-ride, half-conscious, groggily mumbling, "Jay, what the hell—?"

- Jason just shushes him and tosses a burger into his lap. "Shut up and eat, Goldie. We're bonding." (Jason, allowing his big brother to ruffle his hair? Nooooo, absolutely not...)

Tim: Jason straight-up drugs him asleep him when Tim refuses to take a break. He wakes up in Jason’s apartment with a cup of coffee and a sandwich waiting for him, while Jason sits on the couch reading a book.

- “You looked dead on your feet, Replacement. Either you napped willingly or I made you. Guess which one you picked.” (Jason totally doesn't rake a hand over his lil bro's hair during this time)

Steph: Jason knows Steph is a wild card when it comes to hanging out, so he has to be a little sneakier with her. He'd show up at her place unannounced, pretending to just be casually passing by, and in one smooth motion, he'd grab her and yank his little sister into his car or bike before she even realizes what's happening. (He totally doesn't do this in time with hard school, noooo)

Damian: Jason scoops him up mid-battle and just walks away with him. Damian kicks, bites, and yells, "UNHAND ME, TODD!" but Jason holds him like an angry kitten.

- They end up at a rooftop picnic with Alfred’s homemade food. Damian eventually eats while grumbling about Jason's “barbaric methods” but secretly enjoys the attention. (Jason maaayybe ruffles his hair a lot.)

Cass: She just lets it happen. Jason shows up, gestures toward his bike, and Cass just hops on without a word. They go on long road trips in comfortable silence, getting ice cream at 2 AM and scaring off criminals for fun. (Jason totally doesn't take the time to help her with her speech-)

Duke: Duke gets fake-napped. Jason tells him, "Be outside in five minutes," and when Duke says no, Jason still shows up, grabs him, and hauls him into a car.

- Duke just sighs and texts Bruce: "Jason's 'kidnapping' me again. Back later." (Jason totally doesn't get the names of school bullies from him and uses them, noooooooo)

Bruce knows this happens. He just sighs and lets it happen because, honestly? It’s Jason’s way of showing love. And at least the kids are getting along.

Jason kidnaps his siblings because it's his way of saying, "You're important to me, and I'm gonna drag you into ridiculous situations whether you like it or not."

He also, however, does it to Bruce.

In fact, it might be one of his favorite things to do, just because Bruce is always so serious and “responsible.”

Jason thinks it’s hilarious to force Bruce to take a break. He just shows up at the Batcave, probably with some kind of overly complicated plan to "kidnap" Bruce without him realizing.

Step 1: Jason would distract Alfred with a "Oh, just a quick check-in, you know, 'cause it’s been a while.’"

Step 2: He would wait for Bruce to get fully immersed in some case files and then sneak up behind him, tap him on the shoulder, and when Bruce turns around, Jason’s already got him in a headlock, pulling him out of the chair like, "Get up, old man. We're going to a diner. No arguments."

Bruce would protest, of course. He'd probably try to get out of it with his usual grumpy “I’m too busy” routine. Jason might fake-sigh and act like he's just trying to help Bruce loosen up, reminding him, "I know you think you’re invincible, but you still need to eat, Batman."

And if Bruce insists on not going, Jason would just drag him anyway. He might even grab the Batmobile for a joyride (he's always wanted to), making Bruce sit shotgun while Jason drives like an absolute maniac (Jokes on both because Bruce taught him to drive-)

Bruce would probably be scowling the whole time, but Jason would know his dad is secretly enjoying it, even if he won't admit it.

Eventually, Bruce would probably give in and get his grumpy little “dad” lecture—“You’re so reckless, Jason—” but Jason would just smile and be like, "Whatever. You’re welcome.”

Jason totally doesn't like it when his dad just ruffles his hair at some point.

[kittysylus]

⋆˚࿔ the best pillow 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

-the LaDS men cuddling with you and laying their heads on your lap (fluff)

୨ৎ── . Sylus

The living room was peaceful, bathed in the soft golden glow of the late afternoon sun. Sylus lay stretched out on the couch, his head resting on your lap, while a book was placed in his large hands. His white hair fell messily over his forehead, as his red eyes scanned the pages with sharp focus.

The low hum of music played from the speaker across the room, a slow, soulful tune drifting through the air.

You absentmindedly ran your fingers through his hair, scrolling through your phone, when you glanced down at him. “Hey, can I connect my phone to the speaker?”

Sylus didn’t look up from his book. “No.”

You blinked. “No?”

A soft chuckle rumbled in his chest. “Listen and appreciate real good music, sweetie.”

You rolled your eyes, sighing dramatically. “You sound like an old man.” The comment made him smirk, but he didn’t respond, his eyes still on his book.

A slow, mischievous smile spread across your lips.

Sliding your fingers beneath the frame of his glasses, you gently pushed them down just enough to reveal his striking red eyes. Before he could protest, you leaned down and pressed a soft kiss between his eyebrows, right at the root of his nose.

Feeling his body tense ever so slightly, you knew your 'attack' was effective. Bingo.

Sylus inhaled through his nose, his grip on the book tightening just a fraction. "I'm trying to read, kitten." he murmured, his voice as smooth as ever.

But you saw the way his ears tinged just the faintest bit red, the way his fingers twitched against the page.

A giggle escaped you and you felt him exhale, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips.

Sylus shifted, pretending to be unaffected as he grabbed his phone to check what song was playing.

That’s when you saw it. Your gaze flickered to the screen and your teasing smile softened. The playlist title was clear as day.

“Songs That Remind Me of Y/N”

When Sylus noticed where you were looking, his thumb casually covered the screen, as if that would make you unsee it.

You grinned, warmth spreading through your chest. “You big softie.”

He scoffed but didn’t deny it. Instead, he flipped the page of his book, still looking entirely unfazed. But as you glanced down at him, you caught it—the barely-there smile playing at his lips.

Sylus’ free hand moved from your tight to intertwine with your own hand, before bringing it to his lips and plant a soft kiss on your knuckles.

୨ৎ── . Zayne

The clock struck midnight as Zayne stepped into the apartment, exhaustion weighing heavy on his broad shoulders. His dark hair was slightly disheveled from running his hands through it all day, and his sharp green eyes, usually so intense, were dulled with fatigue. But despite the ache in his muscles and the relentless pull of sleep, he made his way to the living room—because he had made a promise.

And Zayne never broke a promise to you.

You were sitting on the couch, papers spread out around the couch and the coffee table, biting your bottom lip in concentration. At the sound of his quiet footsteps, you looked up.

"You're home," you murmured, a mixture of relief and concern in your voice. "Zayne, you look exhausted."

"I'm fine," he said softly, his voice gentle despite the obvious tiredness in his tone. "Let’s get this done."

You sighed, but didn’t argue as he settled beside you, his broad frame sinking into the cushions. He leaned slightly toward you, your shoulders brushing as he picked up a form and started filling it out with his precise handwriting.

Minutes passed in comfortable silence. But with each passing moment, Zayne's pen moved slower, his eyes blinking sluggishly as he fought the exhaustion clawing at him.

Then, without warning, his head dipped forward before he caught himself.

You turned to him, your lips pressing together in fond exasperation. "Zayne…"

"I'm awake," he murmured, but his deep voice was quieter now, softer, laced with drowsiness.

Another few moments passed, and then—he slumped.

His head rested against your shoulder at first, his body leaning heavily into yours, before he finally slid down, laying his head on your lap with a deep exhale. His dark lashes fluttered once before his breathing evened out, the exhaustion finally winning.

You glanced down at him, your expression softening. Even in sleep, he looked serious, but there was a rare peace on his face that made her heart ache.

Gently, you adjusted his position, letting his head rest more comfortably on your lap. You ran your fingers through his black hair, smoothing it back, with a featherlight touch.

With a small smile, you picked up your pen again and continued working in silence, letting him recharge. After a while, you feel a big hand gently squeezing your leg. “You’re such a nice pillow, you know that?”

Zayne looks up at you with only one eye open and a tired but fond smile on his lips.

“Look who woke up! Hi sleepy head.” you tease him, caressing his cheek gently. “I’m almost over with these papers.”

He nodded as a small yawn escaped his lips. “I’m sorry, next time I’ll be more helpful.” he whispered softly before falling asleep on you once again.

୨ৎ── . Rafayel

Rafayel stretched out across the bed, his head resting on your lap, his eyes half-lidded with contentment. The soft fabric of your sweater brushed against his cheek as he exhaled slowly, savoring the warmth of your presence. But something was missing.

Your fingers weren’t running through his hair. You weren’t teasing him with a sly remark. You weren’t paying attention to him at all.

Instead, you were glued to your phone, your delicate fingers tapping away at the screen. Occasionally, you let out a quiet chuckle, further fueling his mild irritation.

Rafayel pouted. "Babe." No response.

He shifted slightly, pressing his forehead against your lap. "Baaaabe."

Still nothing.

A smirk curled at the edge of his lips as an idea formed. He nuzzled against you, his breath warm against your skin. Then, he let out the most dramatic sigh he could muster, his broad shoulders rising and falling with exaggerated defeat.

"Are you really going to ignore your very handsome, very lovely boyfriend, who just wants a little attention?" his voice was laced with playful desperation.

You hummed absently, still not looking up. "Mhm. Sounds tragic."

Rafayel gasped, clutching his chest as if you had mortally wounded him. "Tragic?! This is abuse, beloved. I'm starving for affection."

You snorted, shifting your head the slightest to peer down at him.

“Put your phone down..” he murmured, drawing patterns on your thighs with his fingers.

He was pouting, so you followed his instructions. “Yes?”

A grin tugs at the corner of his lips. “Hi gorgeous.” he smirks, as you grab his pretty face between your hands.

“You really become a brat if I don’t give you attention for five minutes, don’t you?” you chuckle, brushing your thumbs along his cheekbones.

A pleased rumble vibrated from his chest as he closed his eyes, leaning into her touch.

"Yes," Rafayel declared, looking up at you with the biggest, most pitiful puppy-dog eyes his irises could manage. "Because my beautiful, sarcastic, heartless partner is ignoring me."

You bit your lip, trying—and failing—to suppress a laugh. "You are so dramatic."

"And yet you love me," he shot back, smirking before going back to leaving pecks on her legs.

You feign a sigh, when you feel him playfully biting your skin.

“Ouch!” you immediately half-heartedly slap his forehead, while he laughs amused by his actions.

“Stop it or I’m gonna crush your skull.” you playfully glare at him, but he just shrugs.

“A nice way to leave this world, not gonna lie.”

He proceeded to nibble her thigh again, so you squeeze his head between your legs, chuckling.

“Now beg.” you challenge him, raising one eyebrow. But he simply cackled, pressing a slow, lazy kiss to your thigh. "You really think I’m gonna complain about this?"

୨ৎ── . Xavier

The door clicked shut softly and Xavier stepped inside, his frame carrying an air of quiet exhaustion. His light-colored hair was slightly tousled, his big blue eyes dimmer than usual, lost in some distant thought. He didn’t say a word.

You knew this version of him well. The one that withdrew into silence when something weighed on his mind. He was lost in his own thoughts, tangled up in emotions he didn’t know how to put into words.

So you didn’t ask. Didn’t press. Instead, you took his hand, gently tugging him toward the bed. Xavier hesitated for a second before letting you guide him, his shoulders relaxing just a little under your touch. You pulled him down until he was lying on top of you, his head resting against your lap as you softly ran your hands through his hair.

With a small smile, you let your fingers drift from his hair down to his back, as you began tracing invisible shapes against the fabric of his shirt. At first, you just doodled—little swirls, hearts, nonsense patterns—letting him feel your presence without forcing him to talk.

Then, slowly, you spelled out the words.

I love you.

A heartbeat passed. Then another. You felt his breath hitch ever so slightly, his tense shoulders easing as if a weight had been lifted. So you kept going, tracing a small heart at the end.

Xavier shifted, turning his head just enough so he could glance up at you, his deep blue eyes no longer clouded. A soft, almost bashful smile ghosted his lips. Then, without warning, he rolled over, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer in a way that was both shy and desperate.

His face was buried against your neck now, and you could feel his breath warm against your skin. Finally, he spoke—his voice quiet, but steady.

"…Again," he murmured.

You blinked. "Again?"

He nodded against you, his grip tightening slightly. A soft laugh escaped your lips before you resumed your gentle tracing of sweet nothings and hearts.

୨ৎ── . Caleb

Caleb sighed dramatically as he rested his back against the couch, his broad frame comfortably settled between your legs on the plush carpet. Your fingers worked gently through his thick brown hair, separating strands to weave into intricate braids. Every now and then, you’d clip a tiny butterfly or flower pin into place, giggling to yourself at how utterly adorable he looked.

He loved this. The feeling of your hands in his hair, your presence surrounding him. But there was one small problem.

He couldn't sit still.

His hands roamed absentmindedly, his fingers lightly tracing over the soft skin of your thighs. The warmth of your legs bracketing him was too tempting to ignore. Without thinking, he pressed a slow, lingering kiss to her knee, then another, higher this time.

You huffed, tightening your grip on his hair just slightly—not enough to hurt, but enough to warn him. "Caleb. Stop moving."

He grinned. "But you're so soft" he murmured against your skin, his lips brushing along the inside of your thigh now. "How am I supposed to resist?"

You rolled your eyes, though he couldn’t see it. "You're not supposed to try to resist. You're supposed to sit still and let me finish your hair."

Caleb chuckled, but he didn’t stop. His hands squeezed your legs gently, thumbs stroking the inside of your thighs in slow, teasing circles. "M’sorry, baby," he muttered, though he didn’t sound sorry at all. "You're just really distracting."

"I’m distracting?" You scoffed. "You’re the one squirming like a hyperactive puppy while I’m trying to make you pretty."

"Hm..pretty, huh?" He smirked, tilting his head back against your stomach, his striking purple eyes gazing up at you. "Does that mean you're finally admitting you like playing with my hair?"

You flicked his forehead, making him laugh. "I've always liked playing with your hair. I just don't like when you make it impossible to finish."

"Okay, okay." Caleb raised his hands in surrender. "I'll behave."

"Good." You started braiding again, your fingers moving deftly through his locks. For about ten seconds, he actually sat still. Then his lips ghosted over your thigh once more, this time leaving a soft bite.

"Caleb!" He burst out laughing, his shoulders shaking with amusement. "I tried to behave, I really did," he said between chuckles. But then he finally stopped moving around and let you finish your masterpiece. “Wanna grab something to eat later?”

“But it took me so long to make these braids.” you pout slightly, already sad at the idea of having to remove all the cute clips from his hair.

“Who said I’m gonna take them out? Everyone needs to see what an amazing job you did!”

[mangostarjam]

you've been touching him a lot since he got back.

itoshi sae doesn't do anything about it — doesn't dissuade you from tugging at his sleeve or sliding his jacket zipper back and forth while you talk. doesn't comment or bring your attention to it.

but he watches.

you've been around him a lot since his plane landed, making up for all the time he's spent abroad, as if your daily chat threads haven't been enough. most of the time it's just the two of you, the way it used to be. sometimes his brother is around, though thankfully it doesn't seem like you've gotten any closer to rin since sae left.

other times there's a group, mostly your friends, a mix of guys and girls who don't seem to know what to do with themselves around him. sae is used to this — fame brings strange things to light — but you treat him as you always have, except for the touching.

you don't touch anyone else.

it makes him think.

sae has his reasons. he's never let your relationship get past that line, drawn in the sand. he's a professional football player on the other side of the world, and you have a life here. you have friends (even though you still call him your best friend), you have a job (that you complain about all the time), you have family (that can't be bothered to ever congratulate you on anything).

it wouldn't be right — to make you leave. to take you away. not when he needs to focus on being the best in the world.

(he is the best in the world. all those years ago he showed the U-20 team in japan the difference between them, the way the most they could hope for was dating a gravure model. sae never cared about that aspect. he already had you.)

he lets you touch him, but he doesn't touch you back. he keeps you at arm's length — where you're safe.

and then you ask him to be your wingman.

someone else — touching you? kissing you? having you? unthinkable. sae steps out of the shower and barely dries off before pulling on his briefs and pants. steps into his room and there you are, sitting on his bed, looking good, if a little sad.

he considers telling you to get your passport updated and catches the way your eyes trail down his form. maybe this conversation would be easier if he's wearing a shirt — your gaze is too heated, too distracting. you probably think you're being sneaky, hiding your feelings as best as you can, but sae knows you.

and your casual touches are ocean waves washing that line in the sand away.

sae walks towards his closet when it happens again. your finger in his belt loop, stopping him in his tracks. "what?"

"you were ignoring me," you say. "i asked if my outfit is okay."

your outfit is more than okay. "i would have told you to change if it wasn't."

"if you're going to be my wingman, shouldn't you hype me up?" you huff.

sae feels his jaw clench at the reminder. "no," he says, and his tone comes out cold. you don't seem to notice, falling back on his bed and testing every bit of self control in his grasp. "this is a waste of time."

he goes to pull on a shirt before he does something drastic. you're saying something, but it hardly matters when his flight leaves if you'll be on the plane with him. you've covered your eyes with your forearm, so you miss the way he pauses at the foot of the bed, teal eyes drinking in your form splayed out so defenselessly.

sae climbs over you silently, knees nudging yours apart, hands planted on either side of your body. "this is a waste of time," he repeats, watching with amusement as you take in his position. a blush sweeps across your face, but you don't push him off. that's a good sign, at least.

"what, you think i'm not worth being a wingman for?" you ask. silly. you have no idea.

and then you reach for his belt loops again, as if that's a totally normal thing to do and not something that drives him a little nuts every time. sae prides himself on his control, though, so he doesn't lean down to kiss you just yet.

"tell me," sae says, "have you become this touchy with all your friends since i've been gone?"

"n-no?"

it's cute, how wide your eyes get. sae leans down a little closer. feels your breaths on his lips. still doesn't kiss you — yet. "then i won't be your wingman. you don't need one."

"why not?"

do you know how breathless you sound? sae considers his apartment in spain, how he'll need to make sure the bedroom doesn't share any walls with the neighbors. the way you sound is all for him and him alone.

"because you have a boyfriend, now."

(companion piece to this)

[ddejavvu]

mean logan notices her casually chewing gum while having sex & he sternly grabs the back of her neck and demands she spit it out onto his hand. Grumbling smthing abt choking (even though he totally doesn’t care & is so mean

😣😉)

anon this was CRAZY. this post is 18+, minors dni.

You hadn't thought about the piece of mint gum still being mashed between your teeth, the motion of chewing second nature at this point as the flavor is half-gone. Your rhythmic chewing becomes staccato and choppy as Logan makes short work of your desperate cunt, but a particularly loud smack of the gum in your mouth makes his eyes narrow, snapping to your face.

You're on his lap which gives him the perfect opportunity to clamp a hand around the back of your neck and bend your head down. His hips barely slow, still pumping with superhuman strength, but his hands are occupied now and no longer lift your hips. It means your cunt is being battered by his cock that barely unsheathes, your weight falling with his every time he lowers his hips. It's a squirmy sensation, one of pressure and tightness as you try lifting your own hips to fend off his rough treatment. You whine at the sudden jerk of your head as you're shoved downwards, nearly smacking your face into Logan's other hand that's now hovering beneath your chin.

"Spit it out." He drawls gruffly, palm open in waiting.

"What?"

"Your gum. What is this, a fuckin' baseball game? Spit that shit out when I'm fucking you."

You consider protesting, my gum! but decide against it, unable to offer anything more than a weak whimper as you push the gum out of your mouth with your tongue and let it fall into his waiting palm. It looks obscene there, not sultry just gross, but he discards it on a stray tissue on your bedside table.

"Do you go stupid the second you see me naked? You were gonna choke on that," Logan lectures you, tone unimpressed as he clamps his hands over your hips again, letting up on your now-sore neck.

"I wasn't gonna choke!" You whine uselessly, and Logan's brow raises in skepticism.

"Really?"

"Really. It's- it's just gum." You mumble feebly, "I'm not a baby. I won't choke on it."

He lifts your hips so that you're pulled briefly off of his cock, and you're somewhat surprised he hasn't risen to your bait and began bickering with you. He often has the last word, and you feel delightfully victorious.

Then he slams you back down onto his cock, pulling instead of letting gravity help you, and a gasp rips through your throat so viciously that you're sure you've choked on the mere emptiness of your throat.

"Really? You're not gonna choke, it's just gum." Logan snarls, a now-merciless pace set as he reminds you that the last word will never be yours, "I know you. I've watched you gag on my dick a thousand times over. I've watched you gasp for breath after two minutes. If I say you're gonna choke, baby, you're gonna choke."

[willowsnook]

halfway to always

quinn hughes x sharks!reader

summary: reader is Macklin and Will's bff who works for the Sharks. She gets invited to the lakehouse after meeting Jack Hughes who thinks she would be perfect for his brother.

There was a week-long break after the Devils played the Sharks, and Jack Hughes was eager to take advantage of a couple of extra days in the sunny weather of San Jose. After a grueling stretch of games, a beach day sounded perfect.

“We just need to stop and pick one more person up, and then we’ll be good to go,” Macklin Celebrini said as he slid into the driver’s seat of the car.

“Who?” Jack asked, shifting in his seat to glance at Will Smith in the back.

“Y/n,” Macklin answered simply.

Will furrowed his brows. “Does she even know we’re coming?”

“No, but I’m sure she isn’t doing anything,” Macklin chirped, grinning. Will snorted in response, clearly used to this kind of behavior from him.

“Who’s Y/n?” Jack questioned, still confused.

“She’s our best friend,” Will said casually. “She also works for the Sharks in player personnel, which is how we met her.”

“Yeah, her job was to make sure we started acting like adults, and now she’s stuck with us forever,” Macklin joked.

Jack smirked. “Is she dating one of you?”

“I wish,” Will scoffed. “She says that we’re babies. But she’s our best friend for real; you’ll love her.”

When they finally made it to your door, Jack immediately understood why they were both so attached to you. You were stunning. Your long hair was piled haphazardly on top of your head, and you answered the door in an oversized Sharks sweatshirt and shorts, your bare legs curled slightly from standing in the doorway. There was an immediate spark of curiosity in Jack, but what entertained him most was the way your expression immediately twisted into mild annoyance the second you saw Macklin and Will.

“What are you doing here?” you asked warily, your voice laced with irritation.

“Come to the beach with us, please,” Macklin begged, giving you his best puppy dog eyes.

“I’m busy,” you replied, crossing your arms over your chest.

“No, you aren’t,” Will countered, stepping around you and waltzing into the apartment like he owned the place. “This is Jack, by the way.”

“I know who he is,” you grumbled, stepping aside to let them all in.

“Sorry to intrude,” Jack said sheepishly, and you waved him off.

“This is like every day of my life.”

Will and Macklin made themselves comfortable on your couch as you sighed, resigning yourself to their plans. As much as you griped about babysitting them, they were your best friends. What had started as a work obligation had turned into late-night hangouts, last-minute road trip plans, and a friendship you wouldn’t trade for anything.

You disappeared into your room to change, and when you emerged, Jack’s eyes instinctively followed you.

“Did you bring sunscreen? Food? Water?” you asked, hands on your hips.

Will and Macklin exchanged a sheepish glance before shaking their heads.

“Jesus Christ,” you muttered, moving into the kitchen to gather supplies.

“She’s like our mom,” Will told Jack, watching as you furrowed your brows in concentration while making sandwiches. “We’d probably die without her.”

“She tells us we’re like Ollie and Andy from Bob’s Burgers all the time,” Macklin added with a groan.

Jack snorted. He leaned against the counter, watching you thoughtfully. There was something about you that reminded him of his older brother.

“She’s kind of like Quinn,” he mused.

“That’s actually a good comparison,” Macklin said, nodding. “They’d be a hot couple.”

“Macklin,” you warned, hearing him loud and clear.

“What?” Macklin shrugged innocently. “I’m just saying. You’re both responsible adults who take care of children like us.”

You rolled your eyes, placing the last sandwich in the cooler. "I've never even met Quinn."

"But you've watched him play," Will pointed out with a smirk. "Remember when you said his edge work was—"

"Finish that sentence and I'm not packing any beer," you threatened, pointing a knife still coated in mayo at him.

Will immediately clamped his mouth shut while Jack's interest was piqued. "What did she say about Quinn's edge work?"

"Nothing," you said quickly, feeling heat rise to your cheeks. "Just professional observations."

Will smartly kept his mouth shut as you finished packing the cooler. Soon, you were all piled into the car, en route to the beach.

Once there, Macklin took off toward the water while you fell into step beside Will, Jack trailing slightly behind.

“You good?” you asked Will softly. He had been acting a little off since earlier—nothing obvious, but you knew him well enough to catch it.

“Yeah,” he said quickly. Too quickly. You shot him a look, and he sighed. “A lot of people are saying I should get sent down.”

Your heart clenched. You knew he was struggling a little, especially compared to how well Macklin was doing.

“A lot of people aren’t Coach,” you said gently. “You know what you need to work on.”

“I know,” he admitted. “The pressure is getting to me.”

“I’ll come in early with you this week to set up drills,” you offered.

A small smile tugged at his lips. “You’re too good to me.” He threw an arm around your shoulders as you walked down the beach together.

Jack watched the interaction quietly. He knew how tough it was to be a rookie in the NHL, and it reassured him to see that Will had someone looking out for him. He thought about Quinn and how the weight of being a captain seemed to be isolating him more and more.

As the day went on, you and Jack got to know each other better. He was charming, easy to talk to, and you found yourself enjoying his company more than expected.

“Do you have the summer off too?” Jack asked as you reapplied sunscreen.

You chuckled. “No, some of us have real jobs.”

Jack blushed. “I meant, do you get any time off?”

“I take most of my PTO during the summer,” you admitted.

“You should come to the lake with us,” he suggested. “Macklin and Will are already coming, and we have plenty of extra space.”

You hesitated, meeting his hopeful gaze. “I don’t want to intrude on guy time.”

“There will be other girls there,” he assured you. “And honestly, I don’t think they would survive without you.”

Macklin and Will reappeared, both dripping wet.

“Convincing her to come to the lake?” Macklin asked, moving his wet hair purposely over you to drip. You swatted at him but he jumped out of the way laughing. 

“Please come, Y/n,” Will pleaded.

You sighed, leaning back against your towel. “Fine.”

Jack grinned. Maybe this trip would be more interesting than he thought.

—----------------------------------------------------

You landed in Michigan the evening of your first day off. Will came to get you and he swept you up in his arms the second he saw you. 

“I missed you,” he exclaimed dramatically as you giggled, finally pulling apart. 

“It’s been like three days buddy,” you reminded him, passing your bag off for him to carry. 

“Three days too long, it’s been boring without you,” he complained. 

“I doubt that,” you replied, amused. He talked your ear off on the ride to the house, mentioning that you just had time to drop your stuff off before they had a bonfire that night. 

Macklin was sitting on the steps as you pulled up, bouncing up eagerly the second he saw you. 

“Y/n!” He yelled bolting towards you. 

“Hi Mack,” you laughed into him, melting into his familiar embrace. Will carried your stuff in and you let Macklin lead you into the house. 

“Hey Jack,” you greeted, waving to the boy who was waiting in the entryway. He pulled you into a hug. 

“Good to see you, y/n,” he said before tugging your arm. “Let me introduce you to everyone else.”

You met his younger brother Luke, his teammate Nico and his girlfriend, and then finally his older brother. 

“I’m Quinn,” the oldest Hughes brother said, sticking out a hand to you. He had an amused expression on his face which you knew had to do with the two bouncing balls of energy that were behind you. “I’ve heard a lot about you.” 

"All good things, I hope," you said, feeling a flicker of self-consciousness as Quinn's hand lingered in yours a moment longer than necessary.

"Mostly complaints about how you force them to act like grown-ups," Quinn replied with a slight smirk, releasing your hand. "Which, honestly, is impressive. Getting Macklin to pick up after himself when he stayed with us was a challenge."

You laughed, feeling yourself relax a little. There was something about Quinn that put you at ease—a quiet confidence that contrasted with Macklin and Will's chaotic energy.

"I'll show you where you're staying," Jack offered, grabbing your bag from Will.

"I can take it," Will protested, but Jack was already heading up the stairs.

"You can fight over who gets to carry her stuff later," Quinn said dryly, giving you an apologetic glance that sent butterflies to your stomach. “The fire is already started.” 

Sure enough there was a nice fire going in the backyard. A hodgepodge of lawn chairs and patio furniture surrounded it and you sat down on a comfy outdoor couch, Macklin plopping down right next to you. His arm slung behind you and you leaned into him, resting your head against his shoulder. 

“Long day?” He asked and you nodded. 

“Had to tie up some last minute things at work and then of course saved all the packing for before the flight.” 

“Sounds like you,” he teased and you rolled your eyes smiling. 

“How’s it been here so far?” You asked. 

“Fun, I missed the Hughes’ bros so it’s been good to catch up,” he told you. “The break will be good for us, especially Will.” 

You looked over at Will, who was talking animatedly about something with Luke.

“I’ve been worried about him,” you admitted. 

“Me too,” Macklin agreed. “He’ll figure it out.” 

Quinn was watching you from across the fire, sipping his beer slowly, much to Jack’s amusement. 

“Are you sure they aren’t in some weird throuple thing?” He finally asked, breaking the silence. Jack snorted, glancing over to you and Macklin. 

“I promise you they aren’t,” he confirmed. “Just good friends.” 

Quinn hummed noncommittally, taking another sip of his beer. His eyes hadn't left you since you'd arrived. There was something captivating about the way you fit so seamlessly into their group yet maintained a quiet authority over the rookies.

As the night progressed, you found yourself drifting between conversations. Luke was telling you about his latest game when Quinn finally approached, offering you another drink.

"Thanks," you said, accepting the cold beer from his hands. Your fingers brushed briefly, sending an unexpected jolt through you.

"So, player personnel," Quinn began, settling into the chair beside you. "That's an interesting role for someone so young."

You raised an eyebrow, “thanks for the vote of confidence.” 

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he backtracked. “Just thinking about how I would have enjoyed coming to the Canucks a little more if it was someone like you helping me versus a fifty year old man.” 

“Someone like me?” You teased, grinning widely as the older brother blushed. 

“You know what I mean,” he mumbled. 

You laughed softly, taking a sip of your beer. “I do, actually. A lot of guys coming into the league are barely out of high school, moving across the country, or even from overseas. It helps to have someone who understands what that transition is like—who can be a little more... relatable.”

Quinn nodded, leaning back in his chair. “Makes sense. I remember my first year was a whirlwind. You must have your hands full with those two.” He nodded toward Macklin and Will, who were now arguing over the best way to roast a marshmallow.

“You have no idea,” you groaned playfully. “They’re like two overgrown puppies. They mean well, but I swear I spend half my time keeping them from doing something stupid.”

Quinn chuckled. “Sounds familiar. Jack and Luke were the same way growing up. Still are, honestly.”

You turned to face him more fully, intrigued. “So, does that make you the responsible one? The one who keeps everyone in check?”

He smirked, taking another sip of his beer. “I try, but Jack and Luke don’t listen to me half the time. I think they see me more as the grumpy older brother who ruins their fun.”

You tilted your head, considering him. “I don’t think you’re grumpy. More like... observant.”

His eyes flickered with something unreadable before he looked away, watching the fire. “Maybe.”

You studied him for a moment. Quinn was quieter than his brothers, more reserved, but there was an undeniable warmth to him—something steady, reliable. You could see why Jack and Luke looked up to him, even if they didn’t always admit it.

“So,” Quinn said, breaking the silence. “What did you say about my edge work?”

Your cheeks immediately flushed, and you groaned, dragging a hand over your face. “Oh my god, I knew Will was going to say something.”

Quinn’s smirk deepened. “I’m just curious. Professional observations, right?”

You sighed, shaking your head. “Fine. I might have said it was some of the best I’ve ever seen.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Might have?”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t fight the smile tugging at your lips. “Okay, I did say that. Happy now?”

Quinn took a slow sip of his beer, his eyes never leaving yours. “Yeah. I think I am.”

The air between you felt charged for a split second before Macklin’s voice rang out, breaking the moment.

“Y/n! Come settle this for us. Who’s making the better s’more—me or Will?”

You turned to Quinn, laughing. “Duty calls.”

Quinn watched as you walked toward the rookies, effortlessly slipping back into your role as their unofficial big sister. Jack nudged him from the side, a knowing grin on his face.

“You’re screwed,” Jack muttered.

Quinn just hummed, eyes still locked on you. “Yeah. I think I am.”

The next morning, you woke up at sunrise, admiring the pretty sight from your window. Throwing a sweatshirt on, you headed down the stairs into the kitchen where you were surprised to see you weren’t the only one up. 

“Morning,” Quinn greeted, leaning against the counter with a cup of coffee.

“I’m shocked to see someone else up,” you greeted, amused. You moved around him to pour your own cup before turning back. 

“My body is too used to early mornings, can’t sleep past 8 now,” he admitted and you nodded. 

“I’m the same way,” you said. “Probably for the best though.” 

You opened his fridge and stood there puzzled. 

“What?” Quinn asked.

“You have literally no food,” you said, turning to him in confusion. He shrugged his shoulders. 

“We order out a lot or just grill,” he said like it was the most normal thing in the world. 

“Is there a grocery store nearby?” You asked.

“I think so,” he said.

“Okay let’s go,” you said, moving to find your shoes. Quinn chuckled but listened, grabbing his keys off the counter. 

He followed you around the store amused, chiming in when you asked him for an opinion but mostly just admiring you. 

“What were you going to eat on the boat today?” You asked, one hand on your hip as you looked at him over your shoulder.

“Good question,” he replied with a grin and you rolled your eyes. 

“Mr. Responsible my ass,” you muttered. He paid for the groceries and you helped him load them into the car before going back to the house. 

Once you were back, the two of you worked in silence. You making lunches for the day while Quinn cooked eggs, sausage, and potatoes for when everyone else woke up. 

The kitchen filled with the aroma of breakfast as you and Quinn worked side by side, falling into an easy rhythm. You'd occasionally brush against each other reaching for utensils or ingredients, each contact sending a small jolt through you that you tried to ignore.

"You're good at this," Quinn observed, watching as you efficiently packed sandwiches for everyone.

"Taking care of man-children? I've had plenty of practice," you replied with a smirk.

He laughed, a warm sound that made your stomach flutter. "I meant cooking, but fair point."

"My mom always said if you're going to do something, do it well," you explained, carefully wrapping each sandwich. "Even if it's just making lunch for a bunch of overgrown hockey players.”

Quinn's eyes lingered on you longer than necessary. "I think we have similar mothers."

The smell of breakfast eventually lured the others downstairs, one by one. Macklin was the first to appear, his hair sticking up in every direction.

"You're cooking?" he asked, eyes widening as he took in the sight of you and Quinn working side by side in the kitchen.

"Someone had to," you replied, shooting Quinn a playful glance. "Otherwise you'd all starve."

"Or survive on takeout," Quinn added.

Will stumbled in next, making a beeline for the coffee. "Y/n's cooking? Thank god."

"Actually, Quinn made breakfast," you corrected, nodding toward the spread of eggs and sausage. "I'm just prepping for the boat."

"Team effort," Quinn said quietly, and you felt a small flutter in your chest at his words.

By the time everyone was fed and the kitchen cleaned up, the sun was high and you had just changed into your swimsuit, throwing on an oversized tshirt as a coverup. You followed the boys down to the dock, laughing with Will about something. Nico and his girlfriend were doing something else for the day so it was just the six of you on the water. 

Jack got in the driver’s seat and brought you all out to the middle of the lake before sitting idle. Macklin flipped off the boat into the water and you laughed as you watched him come back up. 

“The water’s great, get in,” he called out to you and Will. You pulled off your tshirt, revealing the bright red bikini you had chosen for the day and Will whistled. 

“For fuck’s sake,” Quinn muttered as his eyes took in your figure, lost in a trance. Jack gave him a knowing grin which he returned with his middle finger. 

The day went by quickly and you had a lot of fun; it was nice to just relax and not think about work for once. As it was winding down, Jack got ready to drive back but beckoned you over. 

“You want to drive?” He asked and you bit your lip.

“I don’t know how,” you admitted and he patted his lap for you to sit down. You could feel Quinn’s stare from across the boat. 

“Sit,” he commanded and you smirked, settling onto his lap, your back into his chest. 

“I know what you’re doing,” you told him, looking over your shoulder to Quinn.

Jack chuckled, his breath warm against your ear. "Just helping out a friend," he whispered, guiding your hands onto the steering wheel. "It's easy. Just keep it steady."

You couldn't help but glance back at Quinn again. His jaw was clenched, eyes dark as he watched Jack's hands over yours. There was something thrilling about his reaction, though you tried to push that thought away.

"Eyes forward," Jack instructed, giving Quinn a smug look over your shoulder.

You focused on steering, surprised by how much you enjoyed the feeling of control as the boat cut through the water. The wind whipped your hair around your face, and you couldn't hold back your laughter as Jack guided you through a slightly sharper turn.

When you finally docked, Quinn was the first off the boat, mumbling something about going to shower.

The guys wanted to go out that night so you quickly showered and changed into a pair of loose jeans with a black lace bodysuit. You curled your hair and applied a thin layer of makeup, relying on the tan that was already appearing on your face to do most of the work. 

Will was waiting outside of your door when you came out and he frowned as he took in your outfit.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, suddenly self conscious but Will just rolled his eyes. 

“What’s happening y/n? Are you going to fall in love with Quinn and leave us behind?” He complained and you barked out laughter.

“Nothing is happening Will,” you promised. “I’ll never leave you.” 

You pinched your cheeks with your fingers and he swatted at your hands. 

“You irritate me,” he grumbled. 

“But you love me,” you cheered, following him down the stairs. 

The bar was packed, buzzing with laughter and music as bodies pressed together in the dim glow of neon signs. You thrived in places like this—loud, chaotic, full of life. The second you stepped inside, you lit up, greeting people as if you'd known them forever. Quinn watched you, as he always did, lingering just close enough to keep an eye on you, but not close enough to draw attention to it.

“Drinks first, then dancing,” you declared, grabbing Luke’s arm and tugging him toward the bar. He groaned but didn’t resist, while Quinn followed a few steps behind, his hands shoved deep in his pockets.

By the time you had a drink in hand, you were already scanning the crowd, eyes gleaming with mischief. A new song pulsed through the speakers, and you gasped. “Oh, this is my song! Luke, let’s go.”

Luke barely had time to react before you grabbed his wrist and dragged him toward the dance floor. “No, no, no—why me?” he protested, even as he stumbled after you.

“Because you’re fun, and I said so,” you shot back with a grin.

Quinn huffed a laugh into his beer as he leaned against a nearby pillar, watching as you seamlessly slipped into the rhythm of the song. You moved with an effortless confidence, laughing as Luke—reluctant at first—eventually gave in, mirroring your steps with exaggerated, playful movements. You twirled under his arm, your head thrown back in laughter, and Quinn felt something tighten in his chest.

"What are you staring at?" Jack's voice snapped Quinn out of his trance.

"Nothing," Quinn muttered, taking another swig of his beer.

Jack snorted. "Right. Absolutely nothing. That's why you haven't taken your eyes off her all night."

Quinn shot his brother a warning glance. "Drop it."

"All I'm saying is, she's single. And she clearly likes you," Jack said, nudging Quinn's shoulder. "I've never seen you this interested in someone."

"I'm not—" Quinn started, but stopped when he saw Macklin approach you on the dance floor, spinning you around effortlessly. The ease between you made something twist in his stomach.

"She's their friend," Quinn said finally. "It would be weird."

"Or," Jack countered, "it would be perfect. She already knows the hockey life. She puts up with the two of them all the time.” 

“You seem to be forgetting the fact that I live in Vancouver and she lives in San Jose,” Quinn said sharply and Jack took a deep breath. 

“True,” he admitted, not knowing what else to say. 

An hour later you were beat, and desperate to go home. Unfortunately that sentiment wasn’t shared by the others. 

“Just stay a little longer,” Luke begged, and you shook your head, a small smirk on your face. 

“I’ll be fine to walk home, my social battery is just drained,” you told him. Quinn appeared behind you, his eyebrows furrowed. 

“You’re not walking home by yourself,” he said firmly and you rolled your eyes. 

“I’ll be fine,” you argued but he stood strong. 

“I’ll come with you, just let me close my tab,” he said. You started to complain but he was already pulling you along. The two of you set out back to the house in silence, him caught up in his head about what Jack had said earlier. You were in the same boat, trying to figure out your budding feelings for someone you felt like you couldn’t have. 

“Are you tired?” He asked once you reached the house. 

“Not really, just tired of talking,” you admitted and he gave you a small smile. 

“Movie?” He suggested. You agreed and went off to change into something more comfy before joining him in the living room. You sat a healthy distance apart while he put on a Marvel movie, per your request. Halfway through he looked over to see you with your arms wrapped around yourself. 

“Cold?” He asked and you tore your gaze away from the screen to meet his. 

“A little.” 

He reached down to grab a blanket from the basket next to the couch and threw it over himself, patting the spot next to him. 

You hesitated for a moment before sliding closer, allowing Quinn to drape the blanket over both of you. The warmth of his body next to yours was immediate and comforting.

"Better?" he asked, his voice lower than before.

"Much," you murmured, trying not to focus on how your thigh was now pressed against his.

As the movie continued, you found yourself gradually relaxing, your body naturally leaning closer to Quinn's. You weren't sure if it was the couple of drinks you'd had or the late hour, but something about sitting here with him felt right in a way you hadn't expected.

When your head eventually dropped onto his shoulder, he tensed for just a second before carefully adjusting his position to make you more comfortable. His arm came around you hesitantly, and when you didn't pull away, he let it rest there.

"This okay?" he whispered.

You nodded sleepily, fighting to keep your eyes open. When the credits finally rolled, neither of you made a move to get up. You were drifting off and Quinn was just enjoying the silence. That was shortlived as the rest of the guys got back from the bar, amused at the scene in front of them.

“Good movie huh?” Jack teased and you buried your head into Quinn’s chest in embarrassment. His arm was still hung around you 

"I should go to bed," you mumbled against Quinn's shirt, feeling the rumble of his chuckle vibrate through his chest.

"Probably a good idea," he agreed softly, though his arm remained firmly around you.

Will and Macklin exchanged knowing glances, while Jack made a dramatic show of yawning and stretching. "Well, we'll just head upstairs then. Goodnight, you two."

You reluctantly pulled away from Quinn's warmth, avoiding his eyes as you stood. "Thanks for walking me home. And for the movie."

"Anytime," he replied, his voice a little rougher than usual.

You could feel his gaze following you as you headed up the stairs, and it took every ounce of willpower not to look back.

The next couple of days were filled with you and Quinn dancing around each other, nothing ever happening. As the evening of your last night approached part of you was disappointed but another part was relieved. You didn’t need to get attached. 

The plan for the night was to grill out and Quinn manned the grill while you got the rest of the food set up. You were next to him with a plate for him to pile the burgers on when Will came bouncing over. 

“We should set off fireworks,” he suggested, excitedly. 

“No,” you and Quinn both said at the same time. 

“Fine mom and dad,” he grumbled before stalking off. His words made you catch your breath and you avoided Quinn’s stare from next to you. 

“We do look a little domestic,” he finally said and you giggled. You spent most of the evening with Will and Macklin who were already pre-depressed that you were leaving tomorrow. 

"I'm not even gone yet," you laughed as Macklin dramatically draped himself across your lap on the patio furniture.

"But tomorrow you will be, and then we'll have to go back to San Jose, and you'll be all professional again," he whined.

"I'm always professional," you protested, though the words rang hollow even to your own ears. The truth was, you'd let your guard down here—with Will and Macklin, but especially with Quinn.

"You know what I mean," Will said, sitting on your other side. "No more movie nights, no more beach days. Just you telling us to tie our ties properly and reminding us about media training."

You rolled your eyes but couldn't help the fondness that washed over you. "We still hang out all the time.. Just... with fewer Hughes brothers around."

Your eyes drifted to Quinn, who was cleaning the grill. 

“Yeah too bad for you,” Macklin teased and you blushed making Will laugh. 

“She’s got it bad,” he sang. You pushed the boys off, shooting them the finger before walking over to where Quinn was. 

“Need help?” You asked. He smiled at your question before shaking his head. 

“Nah, I’m finished,” he told you. “Sit with me?” 

You followed him to the opposite side of where your two gremlins were, in a more private area. Quinn sat down in a lawn chair and you started to sit next to him but he tugged at your hand, pulling you down into his lap. 

You froze for a moment, surprised by his boldness, but then settled against him, your body fitting perfectly against his. The small fire pit in front of you cast a warm glow across your faces as Quinn's arms wrapped loosely around your waist.

"I've been wanting to do this all week," he admitted quietly, his breath warm against your ear.

You turned slightly to look at him, your faces now inches apart. "What stopped you?"

Quinn sighed, his thumb absently tracing circles on your hip. "A lot of things. The distance, for one. My brother being the one who introduced us. Those two over there being attached to you like barnacles," he nodded toward Will and Macklin, who were now engaged in what appeared to be a marshmallow-eating contest.

You laughed softly. "They are pretty clingy."

"I don't blame them," Quinn murmured. “This is selfish because I know you have to leave tomorrow but I just wanted to touch you at least once.”

“I’m glad you did,” you whispered,

Quinn's hand moved to your chin, tilting your face toward his. "Yeah?"

You nodded, barely breathing as he leaned closer. "Yeah."

His lips brushed against yours, tentatively at first, then with growing confidence as you responded. You shifted in his lap to face him and he deepened the kiss, his mouth moving along yours softly. The two of you were in your own world, caught up in only each other. 

After a bit you pulled away, staring deeply into his eyes before sighing. 

“What’s wrong angel?” He asked and you gave him a sad smile. 

“I like you Quinn,” you admitted, 

“And that makes you sad?” He teased and you let out a short laugh. 

“I’m sad because there isn’t anything we can do about it,” you said and he didn’t say anything for a bit before pressing his lips against your forehead. 

“I know.” 

pt. 2 here

[irisintheafterglow]

bsf!shoto doesn't understand when being punctual went out of style.

when you swing open your front door the instant he was about to knock, you startle backward like you'd seen a ghost.

"oh, wow." your eyes are wide open and your mouth gapes before snapping shut. "you're, uh, here very early," you manage to say, turning back inside and kicking the door the rest of the way open with your foot. he follows behind you as you hurry back to your bathroom, your makeup halfway done and seven possible outfits laid on your bed. he follows you through the hallway, stopping only a moment to glance at a baby photo of you on the wall. he'd seen the photos hundreds of times, but he found it amusing that you made the same face of surprise when you were little.

"i am ten minutes before our agreed upon meeting time, is that distressing?"

"not distressing, just surprising. in my experience," you continue while patting glitter on the inside corner of your eyelid, "guys don't usually show up on time for dates."

"well, it's a good thing i'm not other guys, then," he smirks and you roll your eyes with a poorly hidden grin. "i also didn't need to waste time picking you flowers--"

"since most of the stuff makes me sneeze anyway," you finish for him, your cheeks warm under the dusting of powder blush. you had known shoto for nearly three quarters of your life, yet it still caught you off guard every time he said something that told you he'd been paying attention to you. "very thoughtful of you." your eyes meet his in the mirror, flicking to his broad shoulder leaning against the doorframe. "staring is rude."

"then you're a hypocrite," he immediately counters with no change in tone, the only indication of his smugness the slightest narrowing of his eyes. his expression turns thoughtful, fond almost. he smiles softly and the endearment makes your cheeks warm even more. "i like that color. the one on your eyes."

"mmm, i know it's your favorite," you reply coyly. shoto's eyes drag from your face down the rest of your body, something different flickering across his face. "something wrong?"

"no, you just...you look beautiful," he manages to say.

"i'm wearing pajamas and all might socks that have at least three holes. in each sock," you chuckle, turning to him over your shoulder. "i certainly don't feel beautiful."

"i can fix that."

"what?"

"what?" he blinks at you, dumbfounded, and you giggle at his slip-up. "who said that?"

"you're funny, sho." you try to ignore the way his eyes follow every movement of your hands as they swipe color over your lips and make last adjustments to your lashes. when you're done, he steps out of your way so you can take your numerous outfit choices to the bathroom, settling down next to your bed to help you decide like he'd done before. "this is a little different, you know," you say through the crack in bathroom door as you tug on your first arrangement. "before, you were helping me decide what to wear for school award ceremonies and stuff like that."

"i could still do that, if you want," he replies with complete sincerity. "i do still want to do that."

"it's a little weird to be dating your best friend, since i feel like you already know all the things that would make me a terrible person to date," you continue and he falls silent on the other side of the door, prompting you to peek out of the bathroom. "sho? is everything okay?"

"yes, everything is fine." there's the slightest dip in his perfect eyebrows that tell you otherwise.

"the 'no lying' rule carries over from friendship to dating, you know," you remind him casually and step out completely, turning in a circle for the full effect. "what do you think?"

"i think that's a bit...warm," he states bluntly. you blink at him and half expect him to laugh, but he doesn't. he's dead serious about you being too warm.

"i am a little warm, yes," you admit in your thick sweater and fleece stockings. "but, i'd also like to dress warmer than i need to because it's so much easier to cool off than it is to warm up."

"i can do both of those things for you," shoto declares. "why wouldn't i do both of those things for you?"

"i don't want you to hassle and need to use your quirk on date night." your voice trails off but he's having none of it.

"is this what you mean by 'things that make you a terrible person to date?' planning ahead so you're not a burden?" you shift your weight uncomfortably under his gaze and can't muster any other answer but shrugging.

"i just...i don't want you to need to change to accommodate me, now that we're together," you explain quietly. he stands and takes your hands in his, lacing your fingers together without a second thought. "if it's easier for me to be uncomfortable and you to be comfortable--"

"why is both of us being comfortable not a possibility?" he asks, tilting his head forward slightly. "why can you prioritize me but i cannot prioritize you?" you have no further argument but his point is hammered home. "do you love me as you wish to?"

"wholeheartedly."

"then let me love you as i wish to. wholeheartedly."

[mintmatcha]

tiktok reader universe

contains mentions of sexual assault. cisfem reader.

.

There's still times when Bakugo can tell your mind wanders during sex. The focus drains from your eyes, your grip goes limp, and your smile slips just a bit. You always come back to him if he says something, but... sometimes he lets it happen, lets you drift away. Maybe the distance is needed.

Even after all this time, you still never sleep over after sex. Tonight, you're a bit more impatient than usual, fixing your hair and wiping your brow right after he pulls away.

"I was offered a job today," you say casually.

"Yeah?" Bakugo loops an arm around the empty pillow that could be yours, if only you'd lean back into it. "With who?"

Instead, he's left to study the curve of your spine as you throw your legs over the side of the bed. He loves the story your body tells, with its scars and marks. Even the acne pocks are a reminder you were once just a teenager, just like he was. His own scars have puckered with age, still the same raging pink they were when they first healed.

"Someone with way too much money-" you say. -"who likes what I've done for your image and thinks I can fix theirs."

"And can you?"

You shoot him a grin from over your shoulder. "Is that even a question?"

Truthfully, Bakugo thinks you could do anything if you wanted to. You could lean over and rip his heart from his chest with just your fucking teeth-- and you'd make it look easy. He'd maybe even thank you. He'd definitely let it happen again.

Bakugo gives up on luring you back. "Well, when do you start?"

Your head tilts.

"I don't," you say."I didn't take the job."

Bakugo sits up straighter.

"I didn't want to leave you."

The statement sits warm in his chest, then quickly cools.

"Well, maybe you should have."

That makes you turn. You cock your head the other way, expression neutral, but still gracing him with a closed lip grin. The stare lasts for a long while before you crawl back under the covers and return to his side. Your lips find the side of his neck and your hands grip back to him, hot, heavy, breathless in that way you think he likes. A hum builds in your throat, a rolling, performative sound.

"Pull your cock out," you demand, right into the shell of his ear. "If this is the last time, I want another round."

"What?"

He doesn't have time to react before you're gripping his half hard cock, jerking it up gently. It's still wet with you and buzzing with sensitivity, so much so that he can't help but enjoy it, enjoy you-

"If you're about to break up with me, I want to at least cum one more time."

He loses the remnants of his erection.

"That's not what I fucking meant." Bakugo tries to meet your eye, but you just keep kissing at him, gripping at him. "Just-- stop stroking my cock for a second and be fucking serious."

You freeze, but keep your hand on him.

"I don't wanna work together," Bakugo reaches for your hand. The free one. "I just want to date."

You don't respond.

"I want to take you places and have you meet my parents and-"

God. this is so unlike him. When did he lose his teeth? Did you pull them straight from his skull and hang them from your neck like jewels?

"I want you to sleep over." He means it. "Like a real fucking couple."

The ceiling fan hums with an uneven hitch, catching in the same spot each time. It's an easy fix, but he's been ignoring it for so long that it's almost blended into the tapestry of his home. Click-click-click-click-click: now it's deafening, overwhelming the silence you're choosing to sit in. Just as he's about to open his mouth, you look away from his body and meet his eye. There's no sharp edge to your eyes.

"'tsuki."

You say it like a mother about to comfort a child, with a rounded curve to your tone that he's never heard before. You're trying to dull the blow, but it does nothing. It's a fucking knife to the gut.

"I'm serious. I'm really serious." He points with his whole arm towards the bathroom. "I've had a fucking toothbrush ready for you for weeks now. It's right there, in the fucking package."

You withdraw, smile long gone. The air between you two, trapped under the covers, goes cold.

"The girlfriend thing." You are unrecognizable without your Mona Lisa grin and he's obsessed with it. He wants to consume these rare moments, chew on them until he's full of you and only you, despite how it makes his stomach turn. "It was never real. You know that."

You cover your bare tits with one arm, but leave your pussy exposed. It feels like a reflex more than an actual concern.

"I'm not meant to be a girlfriend. You don't want me as a girlfriend."

Bakugo's quick to close the distance between you, but he pauses when you full body flinch. Your quirk activates for a moment - you glitter out of existence and then immediately back in- like it's unwittingly done. It's another incredibly un-you moment, but one that he doesn't want to drink in.

"I do." He keeps his voice as delicate as he can. "I do. I fucking do."

"I don't know how to do the things you need. I don't know how to be a girlfriend," you say. The corners of your smile return and he can see the wall coming back up. The arch of your back, the way your hand suddenly cups your tit: you turn yourself into someone else, someone's who's happy to be here, in an instant. "I can make myself girlfriend shaped. I can open my mouth and let you fuck it. I can pose for a picture. I can make your friends jealous."

Oh, and that distant look comes back to your face. The dilation of your eye is just... wrong, even as you smile.

"But I'm just something that's girlfriend shaped," you say. "I'm an illusion, a creature, a tool, a hole-"

"Don't ever say that shit again."

It rips out of him too roughly. "A hole? That's-- why would you say that?"

It all seems to hit you slowly, as if you're processing your own words. Like it never occured to you that you were saying something foul.

"Because-" you try to explain yourself.

"You're just a girl," Bakugo doesn't let you finish the thought. He can't. Not when you're above him like that, so guarded and yet so vulnerable, neither predator nor prey. "I hate to break your fucking illusion or whatever, but you aren't this fucking lumbering beast or huntress or, or, or, I dunno, whatever the commission has tricked you into believing."

He tries to meet your eye, but you're ducking away from it.

"You're just a girl." He lets his hands fall back to his lap. The pinky that doesn't work twitches, kicking with it's old muscle memory. The scar tissue itches under it's own tautness. "Underneath it all. You're just a girl."

The mattress creaks under your weight as you shift back. Now, your eyes are incredibly focused, almost pinpricks. You watch him with an unreadable expression, one slowly inching more towards horror with every moment.

"You think I can't see you, but I can." Bakugo stays where he is. "And I think you want to be seen."

Everything moves slowly. You blink a couple times, with this meek nod, swallowing thickly as you listen. Then, you get off of the bed and head towards the door. All of your clothes are still scattered on the bedroom floor, your panties at the foot of the bed.

"Wait." Bakugo scrambles to get to his feet. "Don't- fucking wait."

He says your name, once, twice, three times, and gets no response. Panic and regret swirl in his skull, so violent he almost goes lightheaded. By the time he reaches the hall, you're gone, and he thinks you've activated your quirk to escape him. It's the nightmare he's always had around you, the one where you disappear into the night the second he gets too close.

And then the bathroom light flicks on. With a careful trepidation, Bakugo inches down towards the door, afraid the break the illusion. Maybe, if he moves too fast, you'll really scatter off into the night, a deer under his headlights.

But when he slides into the frame, you're just standing there, holding a familiar little tube.

"This it?" You hold the package in your hand. "My toothbrush?"

"Yeah."

With your thumbs, you crack into the packaging and carefully peel the toothbrush out. You run the head under the faucet, then turn it off.

"Toothpaste?"

Bakugo pulls out the top drawer. With a sullen nod, you take the toothpaste and unscrew the top. Bakugo watches you, both of you completely naked, both of you completely silent. It surprises him how unsexual it feels to be here, postcoital, still sweaty, watching you brush your teeth. After the moment settles, he steps over and grabs his own brush.

You're just a girl, he thinks as he brushes his teeth next to you. He likes that you're just a girl next to him.

The both of you finish up, then you silently pad back to the room. Bakugo follows, a healthy distance, but close enough the he watches you shrug on his sweatshirt before dipping under the covers. Your head rests on your pillow.

Bakugo finds his space on the other side of the bed and you lay there, in the dim overhead lighting.

"It's hard for me," you say.

"Sleeping?"

"Yeah."

Bakugo turns on to his side and almost reaches out. Almost. Instead, he goes back and turns off the light. When he returns, you're nothing but a dark lump beside him.

"That's okay," he says, "You can sleep however the hell you want."

Your silhouette stays still.

"Sometimes I wake up crying," you say. "Or kicking, or just remembering something I shouldn't."

"Remembering what?"

The click of the fan overtakes everything again as you lay there, pulling in even breaths. A moment passes, then another and another. You're silent for too long, long enough that he thinks you've fallen asleep. Just as he's about to give up, you sigh out a winding breath.

"He was a hero," you whisper. "I felt special when he paid attention to me."

A chill he can't place creeps up his spine. He wants to ask what that means, why you're telling him this, but nothing comes out when he opens his mouth. He has to swallow, then cleae his throat.

"Did-?" His voice crackles. "Did someone hurt you?"

Again, you're silent.

"Who?" This time, when you don't respond, he presses. "Fucking who?"

"Someone who retired a long, long time ago."

"Give me a name and I'll fucking-"

"Katsuki."

"Someone raped you."

He had to say it out loud and dispel the mystery behind it. It's selfish, brash, but he needed it- just as he needs this hand around you, holding, cradling-

"That's what happens when you're just a girl." You clutch at his forearm with a want that isn't present in your voice. "People hurt you."

The bite of your nails surprises him.

"It's safer to be something else."

It's his turn to be quiet.