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meanderingwistera · 1 day ago

Text

Saint

Summary - After your ability to heal others was discovered you were taken to a monastery high in the mountains. The monks raised you in their ways and their beliefs. Once you are old enough you begin to offer your healing abilities to people who need it.

Soon enough you attract something you never intended too and he won’t give you up now that he has found you. Pairing - Kitsune!Suguru Geto x Saint!Reader

Content - Smut, Somno, oral (fem receiving) some fluff, religious imagery, no specific religion stated, afab!reader, Dark Content, violence, manipulation, mental conditioning, dubcon, baby trapping, obsessive behavior, isolation, stalking, deification, slight horror elements if you squint, the relationship starts out somewhat healthy then spirals from there

Word count- 7.1k

A/N - This was a lot longer then I expected lol

Banner credits - @cafekitsune

There is a rumor of a Saint living in the halls of a mountain top monastery.

They are said to be benevolent and heal others without thought. Rumors say they are ethereally beautiful and are sent by god to the world to remind them of his teachings.

Suguru wants to laugh at the idea.

He knows that humans like to make up pretty little lies. They give meaning to meaningless things and try to name things that are nameless. It is how they get through life and Suguru finds it pitiable. Why delude yourself into thinking that something is looking down at you from the sky?

It won’t keep humans from the darker sides of themselves. Sometimes it can encourage that. Many men of faith use religion against other humans for their own gain. So why humans even bother with it in the first place confuses Suguru but he lets them have their meaningless delusions.

As a spirit Suguru has lived for many years, he is older than the systems that humans have in place. He has heard his fair share of fairy tales from the mouths of humans. Sometimes they are amusing, others are just ridiculous, much like the one being told right now.

“The Saint up there really can heal you!” A man says and holds out his wrist, “They healed my broken wrist.”

The other man looks amazed, his eyes are wide and his mouth is agape.

“Really? My wife has a bad back, do you think they can heal that?” He asks desperately.

Suguru tries not to laugh as he walks by the two men. How stupid do humans have to be to believe that a Saint exists. There is no higher power so someone sent down by them is a ludicrous idea.

But the idea sticks in his mind. It lodges itself in the back of his head as he moves through the village. He rolls the idea of a saint around in his mind. They would most likely be a scammer and they seem to run a good scam if the word has gotten this far.

A look into this “Saint” couldn’t hurt.

Suguru finds himself in the middle of a huge line a few hours later. His leg aches with the self inflicted wound he gave himself. The people around him are in various stages of pain. Some only have light cuts, others have broken limbs.

The line moves slowly and most people come out looking better than before, which intrigues Suguru. Soon enough he is next in line and is ushered into a huge room.

The dark wooden floors are a contrast to the paper shoji doors that line it. The monk escorting him in bows to the person in the middle of the room then exits.

Your white robes catch his eye, the white color signifying innocence and godliness. They are rather modest in make and design, as if to muddy your appearance to make you more approachable. Suguru wants to laugh at this play to get him to trust you.

The white veil over your face is something he hadn’t expected. Maybe it was to give an air of mystery to you that will draw people in. The white thin fabric falls just short of your lips in a taunting show of skin.

Suguru doesn’t wait for you to motion him forward and walks up to you. You don’t even flinch as he stops only a mere few inches from you.

“What ails you?” You ask with a small smile.

“My leg.” He replies to you, a sceptical tone to his voice.

Suguru is ready for you to be a fraud.

Someone peddling to the masses for offerings. What Suguru is not prepared for is to be wrong. He has never been wrong about humans before. They are fragile and somewhat stupid creatures but as your hand fits in his and a warmth fills his body he is proven wrong.

The warm feeling spreads throughout his body. It mends his broken leg and soothes slightly sore muscles from the walk up here. A soft sigh leaves his lips. When you retract your hand he almost doesn’t let you.

He had never cared for religion or anything of the sort. It was a waste of his time. He doesn’t know if a higher power exists but he now knows of your existence. You who heals the sick with a kind smile, who uses this gift to give to others with no reservations about it.

You are an angel- a divine being sent down to this terrible world by some higher power. He had read a few religious texts in his younger years and had been intrigued by the idea of saints but now that he sees you he is not intrigued, he is addicted.

Suguru stands a bit taller now that his leg is no longer broken and you have to look up at him. It gives him satisfaction that he could engulf you in his arms to hide you from the other undeserving people who come to steal some of your light.

“I wish you a safe trip down the mountain.” You tell him in a cheerful tone.

“Thank you.” He responds and walks away from you. As he leaves Suguru wants to laugh at your statement.

Because now that he has you he won’t be leaving this mountain for a while.

Your life is a peaceful one.

The monastery is a place of tranquil reflection and you bask in the peace it offers you. You are safe in its walls and with the monks. And You usually feel at ease while walking through the halls.

But there is something watching you.

You feel its eyes baring into your back. And every time you turn to try and catch what is watching you you see nothing.

Your subconscious mind keeps telling you to run from the thing that has attached itself to you. You feel haunted- no, hunted by it. You feel like a rabbit being chased by a fox. A rabbit ready to flee at a moment’s notice. The heart in your chest is beating so loud you feel it in your ears as you look around.

The feeling of being watched never truly goes away. The eyes follow your every move and nowhere in the monastery is safe from them. Even when you are praying or healing others you feel your subconscious telling you to run from whatever is watching you.

You don’t fully understand the thing’s aim. It hasn’t tried to hurt you but it hasn’t put you at ease either. So you are in a constant battle with your fight or flight instincts. After weeks of keeping this feeling from others you can’t take it anymore.

“I don’t know what to do.” You say and hug yourself tightly, curling in on yourself. “I am constantly feeling eyes on me.”

The Head Monk, Eiji, hums in understanding, “We can perform a cleansing ritual for you, it could help.”

You nod numbly at his words.

“The wards here are strong and can keep spirits out. You are safe here.” He says and takes your hand in his.

You give him a small smile, trying to channel your usual happiness. Eiji doesn’t look convinced by your smile and sighs.

“I will have the monks pray for you as well,” He says and gives you a hug.

You feel safer in his arms. Eiji had raised you since you came here when you were ten. He taught you everything you knew about God and everything else. His opinion matters to you and his words help to soothe the worry deep in your chest.

Hopefully the ritual will free you of your fear.

The monastery you live in doesn’t have very good wards. They are old and let him walk in and out as he pleases. What that old Monk told you was laughable, the wards are like spider webs that can easily be pushed aside.

It is so easy to watch you, to find out everything about you. Suguru keeps an eye on you from the shadow of the trees that line the monastery. You spend most of your time wandering the halls or healing people. His eyes trace your outline and he commits it to memory.

The monks are always around you or the maids that attend to you. He may not like that they are near you but he does makes a note of how they attend to you. Suguru will need to know how to take care of you to keep you happy when you are his.

The more animalistic part of his brain urges him to take you now. To keep you safe from the people who take your light for granted. It takes his years of experience with patience to keep himself at bay.

Suguru doesn’t want to scare you, he wants you to be comfortable with his presence.

But tonight he can’t stand this distance much longer, so Suguru makes a bold move. He walks into your set of rooms, he wants to make you comfortable but Suguru can’t stay away from your orbit for long. He longs to worship you the way you deserve.

As he walks through the dark halls he checks to make sure that everyone is asleep. Your maids are all in their beds and sleeping soundly. His footsteps are the only sound in the hall as he walks to your door.

The door is slightly ajar and he slips into your room. He quietly makes his way to your bed. Soft sighs leave your lips as he creeps closer.

Your sleeping form is peaceful and he craves to curl around you. Your body would look so beautiful in his arms or under him.

You don’t stir when he gets closer to the bed. Suguru chuckles at how deep a sleeper you are. He is so close to you but you are still asleep and unaware of him.

Suguru leans over you and takes a deeper look at you. For the first time he can see your face. Soft features scrunched slightly in sleep are illuminated by the moonlight. Suguru understands why they would hide your face from others.

He feels like he has seen the face of god. This is why god’s face can’t be looked upon, people would go mad with just a smile from you. Wars would start from just the shape of your lips alone, whole countries destroyed with a flutter of your eyelashes. And he would fall to his knees to worship you if you just asked.

Suguru decides that he can no longer hold back from you.

After you take a break from healing people and the monks purify your spirit you feel better. The eyes that you once felt on your back have vanished.

Your steps are lighter as you walk around the monastery. You feel the cheerfulness that was drained from you deep back in. It is the best feeling in the world to be free of whatever was haunting you.

On one of your regular walks through the expansive halls of your home you bump into someone. You have never seen him before.

“I am sorry for bumping into you.” He apologizes and bows to you.

Blinking in surprise you put a hand on his shoulder in a plea for him to stand back up.

“Please don’t bow,” You say quickly, “I am a normal person like you.”

When he stands up to his full height your eyes are immediately drawn to his eyes. They draw you in. Their lavender color slowly fades into bright violet near the edges, they are a color you have never seen before.

You barely register him talking to you as you are preoccupied with his eyes.

“I am the one at fault.” He repeats himself with a fox-like smile on his lips.

“You are fine!” You respond with both embarrassment and intrigue.

He joins you on your walk after that.

You learn his name, Suguru, and how he came to be here. He is very knowledgeable about many subjects. It is a shame you think to have him here and not out in the world with the amount of knowledge he has.

Suguru also asks many questions about you that you have never really been asked before. The Monks are not really talkative so you mostly talk to the people who visit you for healing or your maids. And even then you don't talk about yourself much so it takes you some time to think about some of his questions.

A week later the daily walks with Suguru become routine.

Suguru has managed to work his way into your life in a matter of weeks. The time he walks beside you makes the time spent in the company of the monks worth it. As you grow closer to him he slowly coaxes out more about you that he couldn’t learn from just watching you.

He is very surprised to learn that you are very timid for your position.

You rarely talk about yourself, choosing rather to focus on him and your faith. He feels a twinge of jealousy when you whisper god’s name with such reverence. You shouldn’t be so reverent to something that could never rival your divinity.

But he feels better when he sees you blush at his complements. Your cheeks heat up at the slightest hint of compliment or touch. It is adorable how easy it is to fluster you. Your reactions are more addictive than any drug he has come across.

Sadly you always are pulled away from his conversation and gentle teasing, whether it is by your own accord or someone calling for you. His hands twitch with the urge to hold you to him so you can’t leave every time you walk away from him.

Suguru doesn’t want to restrain you, he wants to protect you. Something divine like you needs to be safe from those who wish to use you for their own selfish desires.

More often then not it is the head monk who steers you away from Suguru’s company. You, none the wiser, follow him as he steals you from Suguru.

The Head Monk has proven to be a great obstacle in his plan to get to you. His remarks towards Suguru are sharp and his glare even more so when you are involved. He can see through Suguru’s act in a way he has seen for a few centuries. Suguru would respect his intuition if it wasn’t getting in his way.

So he needs to get rid of him.

Suguru waits for the Head Monk to come into his office at the end of the day before he attacks him. The sun is set and the room is dark except for the candles that are flickering in the dark. Suguru is hiding in the shadows of the room, the usual mask of humanity gone.

The Head Monk sweeps into the room with a weariness to his features. He practically slumps into his chair with a sigh. His guard is down and Suguru seizes this opportunity to kill him. It is easy to tap into the more violent part of his nature. To let his claws rip through flesh and bone, to let blood stain his robes and splash on his face.

Suguru allows himself to utterly destroy him. He revels in the mangled bloody mess he makes. The Head Monk puts up a fight at the end. A last burst of adrenaline from a dying man. Most humans fight at the end, trying to use their last bit of energy to get away from what is hurting them.

When Suguru is done the monk is an unrecognisable heap of a body on the marble floors. You can’t tell his brain matter and internal organs apart from one another. The white and tan robes he wore are stained with his own blood.

The body is easy to get rid of. Suguru scatters it around the mountain, never letting too much of it be in one place. The animals will feast on his scatter remains.

He cleans up the mess he made before dawn. His hands are scrubbed clean of all blood before the sun creeps above the trees. And the floors look clean enough that you would have never guessed that he murdered someone last night.

Now nothing will stand in his way.

Over the next few days people begin to worry when the Head Monk is nowhere to be found. Everyone scrambles to find him but they come up empty handed.

The effects shake the whole temple. People try to figure out who will take his place and if there should be a mourning period for him first. Everyone is either in a panic or in mourning.

Suguru is the main candidate for head monk. Even if he has only been in the temple for a few months his personality and piety are revered by the whole community. He sees this as a wonderful opportunity to get closer to you so he takes the job.

You, of course, are devastated by what happened. Suguru knows that you saw that man as a father but he feels no remorse for the murder. He can see the tears that stain your veil as you pray for his soul. He gently takes you into his arms to comfort you.

“I am sure he is safe in the lord’s hands.” Suguru murmurs softly to you.

He made sure of that.

“Thank you Suguru.” You pull back to thank him with a sad smile on your lips.

He suppresses his shiver when you say his name. It is so sweet from your lips. Maybe that is the way it is supposed to be spoken but he hasn’t heard it that way before.

“Don’t thank me, I just hope to live up to his legacy.” Suguru says with a fake sense of uncertainty and lets you go reluctantly.

“You will do great.” You reassure him and to his surprised delight you bring your hand up to cup his cheek. Suguru leans into your hand with a sigh, melting into you kind touch. You giggle softly at his reaction.

“Don’t doubt yourself, god will guide you.”

“He will.” Suguru agrees through his teeth. “But I would also like your guidance from time to time.”

You blink up at him in surprise, your pretty lips parted slightly.

“I don’t think that I will be of much help.” You look down, trying to downplay yourself.

Suguru’s heart aches when you try to discount yourself this way. He takes your chin in one of his hands and lifts your face gently up to look back at him.

“You are sent by god, your voice matters above all others.” He tells you.

Your face heats up as he holds you face up. Just the smallest bit of contact has you this flushed and he would love to see how you would react to all the things he wants to do to you. You pull away with a nervous laugh and smooth down your kimono. He almost coos at your reaction.

Suguru has all the time in the world now to help you become accustomed to his touch.

Suguru becomes more present in your day after he becomes head monk. He will drop by to see how you are doing or to just talk something over with you. His attention makes you feel important and you can’t help but flush when his hand brushes yours.

You dream of him. The crescents of his eyes and the soft curve to his lips follow you even in sleep.

The dreams always leave you wanting. His hands trace the hills and valleys of your body. His lips are pressed to your neck as he works you open. You ride his fingers as he coos at you with praise for doing so well. You get so close to release then you wake up.

“Are you sleeping well?” Suguru asks you one day, all softness and concern.

You can feel some fatigue from your constant waking up in the night and the sleeplessness that comes after but you can’t tell him.

“I am fine!” You deflect and wave off his concern. “I just didn’t sleep well last night.”

Suguru seems to debate what he wants to say. Your footsteps and his are the only sound in the empty halls. You have realized that you haven’t seen that many monks today.

“I have heard that sleeping with someone in the same bed can help that.” His comment breaks through your line of thought.

You look away at the thought of sleeping in his arms. He would be warm and maybe the dreams would stop if you were in his arms.

“But who would want to sleep in the same bed as me? I don’t think I could do that if it wasn’t someone close to me.” You explain your concern to him.

“I will offer up my bed to you anytime.” Suguru says and his usual fox-like grin is back in full force. Your heart beats loudly in your chest.

“Maybe I will try that.” You admit softly.

“Will I see you tonight then?” He asks in a teasing tone.

“Yes.”

Later that night you pace back and forth nervously in the hallway. Your hands smooth down your kimono in a soothing manner. It doesn’t bring your nerves to heel thought.

You have never been this intimate with another person. Your position as a Saint kept you far away from others' physical contact. There has always be a thin veil between you and the world. So now you don’t know what to do now that you have been invited to touch another person.

The only light in the dark hall is the flickering lamps in Suguru’s room. You can’t really see him but you can see an outline of him in the lamplight. Finally schooling your face into something less terrified you open the shoji door slowly.

Suguru is sitting at a low desk with a book open. He is the picture of serenity as his eyes skin the pages. His kimono is rumpled slightly, exposing more skin then most would bare. You can’t help but trace your eyes down his exposed neck, collar bone and chest.

“Ah,” He says with a grin, “I didn’t hear you come in.”

A shiver runs down your spine at his honey sweet tone. You feel the sudden urge to flee to some place safer. It is a contrast to your growing attraction to the man in front of you.

“I didn’t want to disturb your reading.” You say and he closes some of the distance between you.

“You could never disturb me,” His hand reaches behind you to shut the door, shutting you in. “I enjoy your company, no matter what I may be doing.”

Suguru’s hands are gentle as he walks the two of you to his bed. His hands are soft and practically envelop yours. He directs you to sit on the bed as he blows out the candles.

In the dark you can’t see him but you hear his footsteps as he approaches the bed. You tense up as he sits down on the opposite of the bed. For a brief moment you swear you feel that pair of eyes again.

Then Suguru’s warm touch guides you down on his chest. You can hear his heartbeat and feel the rise and fall of his chest. You make yourself comfortable, still keeping your head on his chest.

“Is this okay?” You whisper to him.

His chest rumbles softly with a chuckle.

“If you are comfortable then I am.” Suguru murmurs to you.

His hand begins to run up and down your back in a soothing manner. It feels good if not a little foreign. You have not been touched in this way for years now so you are both melting and tensing at his touch.

Finally your body melts into his embrace fully. You sink into his chest and he wraps his other arm around you. It is peaceful like this, it is a peace you haven’t experienced before. For the first night in weeks you fall asleep almost instantly.

Suguru watches you sleep with barely concealed lust.

You fit in his arms the way he has been imagining for months. Your body is beautiful pressed against his like this. His eyes are better at seeing in the dark then a regular human’s so he can see how your lashes flutter in your sleep and your softly parted lips.

Suguru needs to feel you against him fully. He needs to know how you would taste on his tongue.

You stir a bit in your sleep, thighs squeeze together around his thigh. Desperately you grind on his thigh chasing your high. He smiles to himself, you must like the dreams he has given you.

He knows it’s cruel to deny you realise for weeks on end but the way you squirm is too pretty. Your soft moans and whines are a symphony to his ears. You are so helpless like this and Suguru likes you that way. You only need him.

Careful to not wake you he reaches a hand between your legs. You are already so soaked for him, your cunt so ready for him even if your conscious mind still pulls away from him. He runs a finger along your folds slowly, you shudder at the contact.

“How cute.” He coos at your reaction and pushes a finger into you.

Your grip on his kimono tightens as he retracts his finger then pushes it back in. Once he is sure you won’t wake up he picks up his speed. He adds another finger and your cunt clamps down on both of his fingers. You are grinding down on his fingers to chase your orgasm.

You arch as he finds your g-spot.

He can feel you getting close, “Come on, you can cum for me, I know you can.”

It only takes a few more pumps of his fingers before you are spilling all over his hand. Your breathing is still even as he raises his hand to his lips. You taste so sweet on his fingers and he might get addicted to you.

You have never felt better after a week sleeping in Suguru’s bed. It is a vast improvement from the previous weeks of little sleep. You are certain that he is magic because of how easily he can get you to sleep.

More and more of your days are spent with Suguru. It must have been a week or so since you have left the wing Suguru’s room is in. You have practically moved into his room, most of your things are there since you spend your nights in his bed. He also takes great care in helping you with your nightly routine.

Suguru helping you get ready for bed started out gradually. At first he would just brush your hair for you. Then it slowly grew into him helping you dress and bathe. You had been skittish about the idea of having him see all of you but he had shushed your concerns and told you that he just wanted to help. His touch as he helps you is soft and gentle, almost reverent.

He will trace circles on your back as you sleep so you fall asleep faster. Sometimes when you need it he will work out a tense muscle, you don’t get them much anymore because less and less people are coming for healing. It was perplexing how you rarely see a visitor or a monk anymore.

You had stopped seeing visitors because the only ones that came were to visit the shrine and not to see you. The monks as well never really came to see you anymore. And your maids have seemed to have left you in Suguru’s care.

But you don’t mind because Suguru is good company.

“I think I am going to take a walk around outside the monastery tomorrow,” You say with a yawn as you settle into bed, “I have been spending so much time with you that I haven’t seen another person in a while.”

“Of course.” Suguru says and there is something off in his voice but you just chalk it up to you being on the verge of sleep.

You fall asleep on his chest a few minutes after.

Suguru is devastated that you are trying to leave him. You want to leave the wing of the monastery that he has carefully reinforced the wards to keep you in and safe. He has tried so hard to make you happy here and you want to leave.

He needs to let you find out what can happen if you try to leave him. He doesn’t want to let you get hurt but you have to learn to not slip away from his safe embrace.

Before that he wants to tie you to him in a more permanent way. It needs to also make you happy, he would rather die than make you feel upset. His only wish is to protect you and make you happy. Looking down at your soft sleepy expression he comes up with a way to keep you with him forever.

Suguru has never thought much about kits. Most Kitsune mate then go their separate ways, it is strictly for reproduction. Kitsune are not monogamous so they can have multiple partners over their long lifetimes. And the kits grow up fast under the care of their mothers so he never bothered with it.

But humans are different, human children take years to mature fully. And humans only have children with someone they marry or settle down with. If you have a kit or two of his then he can keep you with him for life. And even after this life he will find you in the next.

Suguru can just imagine you with his child. The children would have your eyes and his smile. You would love the baby since it is yours and you would have someone here that Suguru wouldn’t be worried about taking you away from him. As if you approved of the idea you nuzzle into his chest with a sleepy sigh.

He flips the two of you so your back is on the bed and he hovers over you. The only sign that you may have noticed him moving you was a flutter of your lashes. You don’t stur as he lowers himself between your thighs. Suguru needs to prepare you for him and what better way than worshipping you in this way?

You are still sleeping soundly as he kisses your inner thighs. His instincts urge him to bite and mark you as his. He wants to claim you body and soul so there is no doubt that you are his. You are his Saint, you are his everything.

You are his God.

Suguru lets his head dip down between your thighs. He has gotten a taste before but this is so much better. Suguru has dreamed of being in between your plush thighs and now he is experiencing the heavenly reality of it.

Your legs are starting to close around him. He can see your face scrunch in confusion and pleasure at the same time. You must be waking up finally.

Suguru continues on but keeps his eyes up to watch as you flutter your pretty eyes open. He sees you groggily look around before a moan escapes your throat.

You fully wake up and look down at him, “What are you-?”

“You were just so needy and I wanted to show my devotion” Suguru says and puts your right leg over his shoulder to get his face closer to your dripping cunt.

You moan, high pitched and whiny, as his tongue grazes your clit. His hands grip onto your thighs, holding you to his face, as you begin to arch into him.

You gasp as he swirls his tongue around your clit. It was too good and you were already so sensitive. The waves of arousal wash over you as he plays with your clit. You won’t last too much longer, so he speeds up.

“Too-” You don’t really know how to finish that sentence. Everything is simultaneously too much and too little.

“Take what you need from me.” Suguru offers you and you whine at how wrecked his voice sounds.

His tongue makes you dizzy. Too far in the haze of pleasure you begin to grind down on his face with your hands in his hair. You pull his hair for some form of leverage against your close orgasm.

Suguru groans as you do, the vibration going straight to your core and you come undone. You reach climax and your thighs try to close but his grip keeps them in place as you twitch and arch. He groans as your cum oozes out of you onto his tongue.

Your moans are so sweet as he eats you out through your orgasm. He holds you in place as your body subconsciously tries to get out of his grip. But he won’t let you go, not now that he has tasted heaven in between your legs.

He lifts his head out of your cunt to watch your chest rise and fall as you catch your breath. The sight of you, post orgasm with your head nestled in his pillows, turns him on so much that he cock is straining against his robes.

Suguru lets you catch your breath as he strips his clothes off. He can’t stand being in these robes anymore. They are just another thing holding him back from you. He catches you staring at him and stops undressing.

“Can I have you- all of you?” He says and runs his hand down your cheek.

“Please Suguru.” You ask him so nicely.

“Whatever you want lovely.” Suguru gives you a kiss as his hands open up your kimono with practiced precision.

You have never wanted to be worshipped despite your position as a saint. It was ridiculous to think that people would dedicate their lives to you because you can heal others. You always just wanted to help others and coexist.

But Suguru might change your mind if his worship is like this.

His lips are so soft on yours. The softness in his touch conveys his emotions to you. The press of his lips to your skin is a promise of love. The heat of his hands on you speaks of his devotion to you. You could drown in his worship and you just might.

Suguru works you open in the same practiced way he did with opening your kimono. You gasp into his mouth as his fingers curl and hit that one spot in you that makes you see stars. His fingers pump in and out of you in a slow yet steady rhythm.

Finally he deems you ready to take him. You try not to squirm from the overstimulation of him sinking into so soon after your first orgasm. The stretch is painfully sweet as you feel all of him deep in you.

“So good.” He murmurs to you as he lets you adjust to him.

“Kiss me again.” You ask breathlessly, needing him as close to you as possible.

“You are demanding tonight.” He teases you with a smirk. “But who am I to deny my Saint?”

Suguru’s lips are on yours as he begins to move. His mouth greedily swallows all your sweet whines. You feel so enveloped by him, he is all over you and it feels so good.

He pulls back to look down at you.

You look up at him through your tear stained lashes and he kisses both of your eyes tenderly. He can’t help but be captivated by how graceful you were even when you were overstimulated like this. Suguru finds your g-spot again and he aims for that sensitive spot every time he thrusts up into you.

“Oh god- oh god-!” You ramble as he fucks you.

“God isn’t fucking you, call out to me instead.” He tells you.

You nod and bury your face in his neck as he picks up his pace. Soft moans of his name fall from your lips as he fucks you.

Suguru tries to be gentle, you are precious, but you just feel too good. You are so tight and he feels himself getting closer to his orgasm. He groans as your nails claw at his back. That will leave marks but he doesn’t mind that you are staking a claim on him.

He was yours from the moment he first saw you anyway, and now you are his.

“I love you.” Suguru murmurs into your hair as his thrusts get more and more sporadic.

“‘love you too Sugu-” You get out before it is cut off by his lips on yours.

His mind can’t wrap around something divine like you loving someone like him. But he won’t question you, your words are laws as far as he is concerned. You are his god and he is just a humble devotee.

Suguru groans as your words and how tight your cunt is send him over the edge. You are not too far behind, your body spasming as your second orgasm shoots through you.

He holds you through it and keeps his cock inside of you to make sure it takes. Suguru can’t take any chances that he won’t get you pregnant. He whispers to you of how good you took it and how he loves you. You cling to him like a lifeline as the aftershocks of your high quiet down.

“Was I too rough?” Suguru asks, concern on his face as you look up at him, your eyes more seeing then before.

“No! Just I-” You pause, trying to figure out what to say, “I am still learning how to accept a lot of touch.”

“I will help with that.” Suguru vows and kisses your forehead.

“Thank you Suguru.”

You look at the long hallway of Suguru’s wing of the monastery. It is peaceful here, the rushing waterfall next to the open air corridors gives you a sense of serenity.

Suguru had told you that he had decorated this part himself after the last Head Monk had passed. You walk past a long tapestry of a swirling mountain range. It is a beautiful painting and you are still in awe of it after a few weeks of residing in this wing.

The main hall of the monastery comes into view, people bustling through the hall. You smile wide and walk faster. It has been so long since you have talked to someone besides Suguru. The thought excites you as you approach.

You pass the threshold only to find yourself a few feet back from where you originally were. Perplexed, you walk forward again, attempting to walk past the end of this hall.

It is the same outcome.

You try again and again and again.

The same outcome happens every time.

You are starting to get frantic as you try for what feels like the millionth time. Frustrated tears pricking at the corner of your eyes as you find yourself back at the threshold.

“What are you doing?” Suguru’s voice comes from behind you.

You turn back to him, “I can’t leave! The hall isn’t letting me leave.”

Suguru looks concerned and walks over. His arms envelope you as you cry into his robe. You hug into him for comfort as you try to understand what is going on.

“It’s okay,” His hand runs up and down your back. “You don’t need to leave.”

His words run through you like ice cold water.

“What?” You fight out of his hold.

Suguru looks completely relaxed as he reaches out for you.

“You don’t need to go out there, it is much safer here.” His voice is soft.

“But I want to-” You argue but he is looming over you in an instant.

“It is dangerous out there.” He takes your hand in his, a reassuring smile on his face. “But I have made sure that you are safe.”

You wretch your hand out of his and run for the end of the hall. Panic has a hold of you as you attempt to leave again. You feel like you did all those months ago, watched, hunted. Your heart beats in your ears as you cross the threshold only to be placed right back where you started. You are trapped.

Suguru’s arms wrap around your shoulders, his body engulfing yours but not in the way you felt last night. This feels overwhelming, heavy, as he wraps you in his arms.

Looking up you see Suguru staring back at you. Something is different about him. His eyes are darker, more predatory than it was before. His gaze feels exactly like what you felt before he came to the monastery.

It hits you like a ton of bricks that Suguru was the thing watching you.

His grin widens and you see fangs. To your horror his canine teeth are sharper than before. He isn’t human, that is something that is apparent now. Suguru always was an inhuman type of beautiful but you never guessed he wouldn’t be human.

“What are you?” You whisper.

You attention is drawn to the fox ears that you now see on his head. They are a dusty red color and twitch slightly as you gasp. You have been told about Kitsune before but they are supposed to be just myths.

Something to scare children from traveling too far into the woods.

But Suguru is all too real.

“I don’t- I don’t understand!” You say and attempt to get free.

Suguru turns you around to look at him, “It’s okay, all you need to do is stay with me.”

You look up at him in fear, his face drops in response as if you were rejecting him and not just trying to go outside.

“Fine.” His mask of hurt falls away from his face. “I really didn’t want to restrict you but I can’t have you running from me.”

Without warning Suguru picks you up in his arms. You struggle against his chest as he walks back to his room but it is no use. He has an iron grip on you, like a rabbit trapped in a snare or in the jaws of a fox.

“Stop struggling or I will tie you down.” He is firm with his reprimand.

With a small hiccuping sob you stop trying to struggle against him. He looks down at you with sadness, his ears flat against his skull. His heart hurts as he sees your pain. But you have to learn.

“This isn’t permanent.” Suguru says, trying to soothe you and presses a gentle kiss to the top of your head.

“Just until you learn that you aren’t leaving me- ever.”

#he’s just my princess with a disorder #this is my first dark content fic so be gentle 🙏#I might write another drabble for this idk #Saint #blue’s fics <3 #yandere geto #getou suguru x reader #jjk x reader #jjk #geto x reader #jujutsu kaisen #geto suguru #geto suguru x reader #jjk geto

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bebe-writes-stuff · 3 days ago

Text

Title: You drew me?

Pairing: Mikey x Reader

Summary: “You left your diary at my house. And I read those pages, do you really love me, baby?”

(Fluff) (No warnings)

————————————————————————

Y/N had been friends with Emma for as long as she could remember. The two were inseparable, and Emma’s house had always been her second home. It wasn’t unusual for Y/N to spend most of her afternoons there, lounging on the couch, talking about everything under the sun. But there was one problem that always seemed to linger in the back of Y/N’s mind—the presence of Mikey.

Mikey wasn’t your typical guy. He was charismatic, carefree, and always had that smirk that made you feel like he knew something you didn’t. But Y/N, She was quiet, reserved, never the type to make her feelings obvious. And Mikey? Well, he noticed.

Y/N always tried to be discreet, glancing at Mikey when she thought he wasn’t looking, stealing the occasional peek when Emma and Mikey would argue, or when he was deep in thought. There was something about him—something about that air of mystery—that intrigued her, but she never said it aloud.

And Mikey? He was more than aware. He noticed the way her eyes would dart away whenever his gaze met hers, the way her cheeks would redden just a bit when he caught her staring a little too long. It was almost cute, really. And honestly? He liked the attention.

One day, randomly, Mikey had been rifling through a pile of papers on the kitchen counter when his hand brushed against something—a notebook, your notebook, thick with pages. Curiosity got the better of him, and before he knew it, he was flipping through it, his smirk growing wider.

It was a collection of sketches—drawings of him. Different angles, different expressions—capturing everything from his lazy grin to the sharpness in his eyes. His fingers traced over the edges of the pages. So she was keeping these secret little portraits of him, huh?

He couldn’t help but chuckle to himself. He should’ve known.

A few days later, Emma and Y/N were hanging out again, lounging in Emma’s room, talking about the usual: school, friends, life. It was a typical afternoon until Mikey casually appeared in the doorway.

“Hey, Emma,” Mikey said, flashing his signature smirk. “Can you go grab me some dorayaki? Or, you know, a drink from the store around the corner? I’ll owe you one.”

She blinked, confused. “Uh… sure, I guess. Why now?”

Mikey shrugged nonchalantly, stepping closer. “Because, why not? Y/N stay here and help me out with some stuff.” He shot her a wink as she tilted her head in confusion, raising an eyebrow.

“Wait, what do you need me to do?” Y/N asked, but Mikey was already motioning for her to follow him.

Emma, not one to argue with Mikey. “Alright, Fine. I’ll be back soon, Y/N,” she said, brushing past Mikey.

Mikey grabbed Y/N by the wrist, pulling her out of the room before she could protest.

“Wait, Mikey, what’s going on?” Y/N asked, her confusion obvious as Mikey led her down the hall to a quieter part of the house.

Mikey gave her a sideways glance, his smirk widening. “Just trust me, Y/N. You’ll want to see this.”

He led you into one of the empty room, shutting the sliding door behind him with a quiet click. Your pulse quickened, but you tried to keep your cool.

“Mikey, seriously. What’s this about?”

He turned toward you, something unreadable flashing in his eyes. Then he reached behind one of the couch cushions and pulled out your sketchbook.

Your breath caught. “Wait—what the hell, where did you get that?”

“You left it on the counter the other day,” he said, flipping it open lazily. “At first, I thought it was just random drawings, but… imagine my surprise.”

He tilted the book toward you, revealing a sketch of him—leaning on the couch, that lazy look in his eyes perfectly captured in pencil. “They’re good. Like, really good.”

Y/N lunged forward to grab the notebook, but Mikey was faster—his arm shot up, raising it just out of her reach.

“Give it back!”

she slammed into him full force chest-first, knocking him completely off balance. The two of them tumbled to the floor with a loud thud.

Y/N blinked, heart hammering, realizing she was now sprawled on top of him, her face mere inches from his. Mikey’s laugh echoed in the quiet room, low and amused.

“Well damn,” he grinned up at her, his hands moving instinctively to her waist. “You could at least take me out to dinner first before tackling me like that.”

Her eyes widened in horror, and she scrambled off him so fast it made her dizzy, sitting up with her knees pulled close to her chest, cheeks burning.

“You’re such a jerk,” she muttered, trying to regulate her breathing while avoiding his gaze.

“Relax,” he said, grinning.

You crossed your arms, trying to mask your embarrassment. “It wasn’t meant for anyone to see.”

“Oh, I figured,” he said, stepping closer. “But it’s kind of flattering, you know. You’ve been watching me pretty closely to get all these angles right.”

His words made your stomach twist. He was teasing you, sure—but there was something else behind his tone. Something quieter.

“I wasn’t trying to be creepy,” you muttered. “I just… I like drawing people. You were around. That’s all.”

Mikey quirked an eyebrow. “So if I looked in another sketchbook, I’d see Draken, or Emma, or random classmates?”

You looked away. Silence was its own answer.

Mikey’s smirk faded slightly, replaced by something gentler. He held the notebook out to you.

“Y/N,” he said, and his voice lost that usual lazy drawl. “I’m not mad. Honestly, I think it’s kinda cool. I just wanted to know why me.”

Y/N swallowed. “I… don’t know. You’re just… always around. And you’re hard to ignore.”

Mikey arched an eyebrow. “So you like me.”

Y/N opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Her face betrayed her, heat rising to her cheeks. She turned away.

Mikey was quiet for a beat. Then he let out a soft laugh, “You’re weird,” he said, but there was no malice in it. “But, like… a good kind of weird. You’re cute. Real quiet, but funny when you get mad. And those drawings? You see me better than anyone.”

For the first time, she saw something different in his expression—something sincere.

Mikey stepped forward, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “So how about this: next time you want to draw me, just ask. I’ll pose for you.”

Y/N blinked up at him, stunned. “You’d actually let me draw you? Like… on purpose?”

Mikey plopped down beside her again, resting his arms over his knees. “Why not? I’m a great subject.”

She snorted. “You’re a terrible subject. You move too much.”

He grinned. “Then I’ll stay still this time. Come on, prove you’re not just creeping on me.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but reached for her sketchbook anyway, flipping to a blank page. “Fine. Don’t talk. Don’t smirk. Just—sit still.”

He obeyed, crossing his legs and straightening his back, trying to mimic a stoic model. Y/N settled across from him, pencil in hand, trying to focus. But the longer she looked at him, the harder it became to concentrate. His gaze never left her.

She tilted her head, frowning slightly, then leaned forward. “There’s… a shadow on your jaw I can’t quite get right—hold on.”

Without thinking, her hand reached out, fingertips brushing gently along the line of his jaw. Mikey didn’t flinch. In fact, he tilted his head slightly, letting her touch him, watching her with something unreadable in his eyes.

“Y’know,” he said softly, “you don’t hide it very well.”

Her hand froze. “Hide what?”

“The way you look at me. Like I’m something worth staring at.”

She pulled her hand back quickly, face flushing. “I wasn’t—I didn’t mean—”

“You do,” he interrupted, leaning in just slightly. “It’s not a bad thing.”

There was a long, weighted pause. The room felt too quiet now.

Mikey shifted forward, now only inches from her. “You ever think about kissing me?”

Her breath caught in her throat. “What?”

He smirked, but it was softer now, teasing without the edge. “I think about it sometimes. Especially when you’re this close.”

Y/N’s heart pounded in her chest. He was looking right at her—eyes half-lidded, voice low, tone teasing but heavy with something else.

For a second, she swore he was going to close the gap.

But then—

He leaned back with a satisfied smirk, hands behind his head. “But hey, maybe next time. You still haven’t taken me to dinner.”

Y/N stared at him, wide-eyed, cheeks burning. “You’re seriously the worst.”

“I get that a lot,” he said, grinning.

She tossed a pillow at him.

He caught it with one hand, still grinning, but then he paused, voice quieter now. “People usually look at me like I’m some reckless idiot. Like I’m gonna fall apart any second.”

She didn’t say anything. Just watched him.

“But you…” he looked over at her, expression unusually sincere. “You look at me like I’m worth understanding.”

Y/N’s breath hitched. She wasn’t expecting that.

He shrugged like it was nothing. “Makes it hard not to like you back.”

The words hung in the air between them, soft and heavy and just real enough to make her heart ache.

Y/N didn’t trust her voice, so she just nodded, biting back a smile.

Mikey grinned. “Now finish that sketch before I get wrinkles from staying this still.”

She rolled her eyes, flipping her pencil upright again, but couldn’t fight the way her hands trembled slightly—because everything had just changed.

Y/N was still trying to steady her hand when the sliding door abruptly creaked open.

“Hey, I’m back!” Emma’s voice rang out, followed by the soft crinkle of a plastic bag. “Mikey, they were out of your stupid dorayaki so I—” She paused mid-step, taking in the scene.

Y/N sitting cross-legged on the floor, sketchbook in hand. Mikey seated across from her, much too close, far too relaxed. Her eyes narrowed slowly as the realization clicked into place.

Y/N stiffened like she’d been caught doing something illegal.

Mikey just smirked. “Took you long enough.”

Emma’s gaze ping-ponged between the two of them, then dropped to the faint pink still lingering on Y/N’s cheeks. “Okay… what did I miss?”

“Nothing.” Y/N blurted, way too fast. She slammed her sketchbook shut and stood up like the floor had burned her.

Emma raised an eyebrow. “Right. And I’m a goldfish.”

Mikey stood too, stretching casually as if nothing had happened. “She’s drawing me. That’s all.”

Emma blinked. “Wait, seriously? You let someone draw you? You barely let people take photos.”

Mikey shrugged, tossing a lazy grin toward Y/N. “She asked nicely.”

Y/N scoffed. “I did not.”

Emma looked between them again—Mikey grinning like a cat who’d found his favorite toy, and Y/N, visibly trying not to implode. Her lips twitched.

Emma grinned. “I’m just saying, if you guys are gonna have weird flirty floor moments, at least tell me so I don’t walk into a live drama scene.”

“We weren’t flirting!” Y/N said, but even she didn’t sound convinced.

Mikey sipped from the drink Emma gave him and looked over at her with a smirk. “You kinda were.”

Y/N shot him a look. “Mikey.”

He just shrugged and leaned against the wall, that same lazy look in his eyes. “What? I like being your muse.”

Emma blinked. “Okay, what the hell happened while I was gone?”

Y/N shook her head, defeated. “I don’t even know anymore.”

Emma, satisfied that something had definitely happened, grabbed her phone. “Good. Carry on. I’m gonna pretend I’m not here.”

Mikey looked at Y/N again, this time his smile a little softer. “You still owe me that sketch, y’know.”

Y/N sighed, sitting down again with her sketchbook. “Fine. But if you move this time, I’m giving you a mustache.”

“Worth it,” he murmured, eyes on her instead of the page.

————————————————————————

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rosenclaws · 12 hours ago

Note

Hi! I have a headcannon

How does Logan reacts when you slap, touch or pinch his butt caughting him off guard

lmao omg i love this. He does have a great ass so like…he better be careful bending over in front of met thats all imma say.

Origins Logan -

It totally takes him by surprise. The two of you are laying on the couch watching a movie when Logan gets up to get another beer. You can’t help yourself alright? Your boyfriend has a very nice ass so the moment he gets up you slap his ass hard. He tenses and turns around to look at you with his jaw dropped. Its sort of like a “Did you seriously just do that?” Look and you just giggle because you see him get all red. But he doesn’t hate it. When he comes back with his beer he sits down and places his arm over your shoulders, pulling you close and telling you that he’ll get you back for that one. And don’t forget he’s got super strength hehe

Trilogy Logan -

Logan is such a fucking menace oh my god. He slaps and touches your ass any chance he gets so its about time he gets some payback. Its breakfast in the kitchen and he’s rummaging around the fridge looking for something to eat when you sneak behind him and plant a fat smack right on his plaid pajama pants. He freezes and slowly looks back at you. You laugh real cute as he sees some of the team laughing to themselves. He thinks its cute but he won’t let you get the last laugh. He asks if you think thats funny and watches as you get all shy. He leans in close and tells you not to run away now and to finish what you started.

DOFP Logan -

He’s totally taken off guard. You’re flirting in his classroom before class. Telling him how hot he looks as a professor and that the authority looks good on him. He just chuckles and continues to write on the board. Suddenly he feels a pinch on his ass and he looks to see you smirking, pretending to be reading a paper you picked up from his desk. He doesn’t care that class is starting in a few minutes as he grabs you and puts you on his desk. His hands roaming to your ass as he asks if you pinched him. You play dumb but Logan won’t have it and slaps your ass. Keep in mind he’s got super strength and metal in his bones. He doesn’t mind when you do it. He likes it. But he won’t go down without a fight ;)

Old Man Logan -

It takes him off guard and honestly makes him a little flustered. Of all his features Logan never really thought much of his ass but you seem to love it. He thinks its cute when you try and sneak around him. He always hears you but sometimes he pretends not to. Your hands on his ass slapping it when he’s bent over looking for something or when he’s in the shower. He tells you to quit it but you don’t. He teases you about being obsessed with an old man and you just whine. Saying its not your fault he’s so handsome. Logan likes it when you stick your hand in his back pocket. He likes knowing that you want him that badly.

Worst Logan -

He’s bewildered the first time you do it. He’s passed out on the couch and you need him to move because you want to watch TV. He’s on his stomach in boxers and shirtless. Without thinking you yell his name and slap his ass hard. Telling him to move. He’s like a confused dog who just woke up from a good nap. His hair is all fucked and he sits up still half asleep. It takes him a second but then he turns and asks if you just slapped his ass to which you just shrug. You keep doing it and every time Logan doesn’t know whether to tell you to stop or just enjoy it. Wade catches you doing it once though and now he won’t shut the fuck up about it. In fact wade tried to grab his ass and Logan sliced his fingers off. Safe to say he only likes it when you do it.

#logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett headcanon

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strawberry-nugget · 1 day ago

Text

notion | k. bakugo | 2

Notion M.list

Paring: Bakugo Katsuki x reader

Summary: The last four years have been a blur. You and Bakugo had been in this hellish friends with benefits/ situationship for way too long until you decided to end it last year. Now, due to being peer-pressured to choose Izuku over him, you've been in no contact for two whole months and you are finally making a hear out of permanently living in Tokyo, three hours away from him and everybody.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, fwb, jealousy, alchohol drinking, bakugo is bloody after patrol, just a tad of angst, situationships (my real worst enemy), no smut in this chapter tho oopsiesss, Bakugo fighting with Mitsuki, All characters are 20+

A/N: oopsies sorry it took me years to come back to this fic 😅 However, next chapter is pure filth to make up for it

Your apartment in Shibuya is too small. It’s a studio apartment, kitchen crammed into one corner, bed pressed against the opposite wall. The Hero Commission pays for it, but that doesn’t make it feel any bigger.

You don’t mind, not really. Most nights, you’re too tired to care. Between patrolling for the agency and handling the odd jobs your boss throws your way, you’re lucky if you get six hours of sleep. The city hums outside your window, neon signs reflecting off glass, the distant chatter of nightlife a constant reminder that Shibuya never really sleeps.

The agency you work for part-time isn’t bad. The pay is decent, the hours flexible—you even get to spend three days of the week back at Musutafu. It’s not a top-tier agency like Endeavor’s or Hawks’, but that works in your favor. Less press, less scrutiny, fewer expectations. The heroes running it like that about you. You’re efficient. Capable. And a former top student at UA. You’re unremarkable and so well trained in such way that makes you easy to move around like a chess piece.

This is the job, after all.

You haven’t been back home for two months. Not since Izuku confessed to you.

His words had been careful, earnest—so painfully Izuku. Through text, on your way home for the weekend, he told you he had feelings for you, that he had for a long time, that he wasn’t expecting an answer right away but just wanted you to know. That was the problem. You didn’t have an answer.

You have not been back home since that stunt Bakugo pulled just to be the one to pick you up from the train station that day and definitely not after that dinner at the Bakugos’ in which Mitsuki was trying her best to set you up with someone that isn’t her son.

Then again how could she have known you and Bakugo have had your fair share of occasional sex throughout the course of four years?

The memory of how awkward that night was makes you groan inwardly. Mitsuki had been relentless, a whirlwind of enthusiasm as she served dinner, her eyes practically sparkling as she brought up Izuku. “You should go out with him! He’s such a good boy, and he really cares about you!” she had exclaimed, nudging you with her elbow as Bakugo sat across the table, his expression a mixture of annoyance and disbelief.

You had tried to redirect the conversation, bringing up Bakugo’s latest achievements or the new training regimen he had implemented, but Mitsuki had been having none of it, like it was too easy for her to pester about Izuku now that he had politely declined her invitation to grade papers for his class “No, no! I mean, have you seen how well he treats you? He’s always looking out for you!”

Each comment made Bakugo’s jaw tighten, and you could feel the heat rising in your cheeks. You had laughed it off, but the undercurrent of tension in the room had been palpable. That was the night you’d left, feeling more confused than ever—especially with the way Bakugo had glanced at you when he thought no one was watching.

You remember the way his fingers tapped against the edge of his plate, his eyes flickering to you every time Mitsuki gushed about Izuku’s “perfect boyfriend potential.” He didn’t say much—not outright—but you could feel his irritation radiating off him in waves.

Mitsuki, oblivious as ever, had kept going.

“And you know,” she had continued, pouring more tea into your cup, to help the food go down smoothly “he’s such a sweet boy. Hardworking. Polite. Not like this one—” she jabbed her thumb toward her son, “—who still thinks grunting is an acceptable form of communication.”

“Oi,” Bakugo had grumbled, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he shot you a look, something unreadable simmering in his red eyes before he went back to stabbing at his food. Like he was begging you to say something.

Anything.

Even to mention that he’d come visit you in Tokyo. Something to establish a different kind of familiarity between the two of you to his mother.

You had tried to laugh it off, waving a hand dismissively. “Izuku and I are just friends, miss Mitsuki”

“For now,” she had teased, wiggling her eyebrows. “Come on, you’ve known each other forever. Doesn’t it make sense?”

But you had known Bakugo since forever too. You wish someone could see through that, you wish someone could urge the two of you to admit your feelings but your shenanigans had been tight lipped and banned to mention to the world. Maybe it could have been different had any of you spoken about each other to your friends.

Because how else could you tell his mother you’re never going to fall in love with Izuku-— you’ve been in love with her stupid, begrunting son since high school.

“Katsuki! Put some thought into her brain! She’ll listen to you!”

That was when Bakugo stood abruptly, chair scraping against the floor. “Tch. I’m fucking done.” He grabbed his plate and stomped toward the sink, movements sharp and tense. You’d barely had time to process before he was brushing past you on his way out of the kitchen, his voice low enough that only you could hear.

“You don’t gotta humor her.”

He drove you home, tried to kiss you before you opened the door to leave but settled for kissing your cheek. You kissed his neck in return. A promise you do not want Izuku, but not enough of a confession to let him know how you feel.

That was the last time you’d seen him in two months.

Your shifts at the agency have doubled since, at your demand. You’ve tried anything to get him out of your head, anything to just convince yourself that life goes on. You can stay friends with him and pretend you’ve never been anything else.

‘If he wanted to, he would be with you’ one of your coworkers had told you the other night, when you mentioned the matter, while deliberately skipping to mention who you’d be talking about, in your desperate attempts to finally make friends out of all the people you spend everyday with.

And she’s right. You know she’s right.

She’s also right when she pesters you to join her and a few of your other coworkers for dinner on Friday after patrol. Claiming you’ve been so shut off, that they want to get to know you better. And you say yes, because you have nothing better to do— you can’t spend another sleepless night staring at Bakugo’s last message that you left on read. ‘If he wanted to he would’ replaying in your head like a mantra.

______

Friday comes too quickly.

Between being on the edge every single day as your parents are begging you to come back home for the weekend and a single text from Bakugo on Wednesday night asking if you’re still alive, you’ve been expecting the outing with your coworkers religiously throughout the week.

It’s your only excuse to get black out drunk and go home and sleep the weekend off.

Aiko, the coworker that invited you asks you to dress nicely— no cargo pants and a sweatshirt like the ones she sees you exit the agency with and you pack a plain sweater dress with you before you leave for the agency in the morning.

And while the dinner goes smoothly, you’re asked to join them for drinks— frankly you can’t refuse when seeing that they paid for your dinner too.

You promise yourself It’s not a regular thing—you’re not close enough to any of them for that—but someone suggested it after patrol, and you were too tired to come up with a reason to say no. So now you’re here, tucked into the corner of a noisy izakaya, half-listening to a conversation about some high-profile villain case in Minato while nursing a glass of highball.

The place is warm, filled with the scent of grilled meat and cigarette smoke. Your coworkers are already a few rounds in, voices louder, laughter easier this time.

Some sick part of your brain wishes Bakugo was here too. That all your friends were here too, or maybe, that this was one of your class reunions at Shoto’s house.

“You ever think about going full-time?” one of them asks, nudging you with his elbow. Watanabe. He’s been at the agency for two years, still hoping for a promotion. You mostly share patrols with him and Aiko. “Commission’s gotta be lining you up for something better, right?”

You take a sip of your drink, the ice clinking softly. “Doubt it,” you say. “They like me where I am. I like where I am. It’s flexible and pays well. I used to go home in Musutafu every weekend.”

“Oh yeah, you went to UA!” another one exclaims.

“Man, that’s rough,” Watanabe laughs, shaking his head. “With how you handle yourself, you could be working for one of the bigger names. Hell, any big agency at this point. You went to college too. That’s like, insane hero knowledge.”

You don’t respond. You just glance at the condensation on your glass, at the way the dim light catches the edges of the liquid inside. It’s not like you haven’t thought about it. Not like you don’t know you’re capable of more, but the top hero life isn’t something you ever wanted. You like your job just how it is. Your pay is the same as the one in your old agency in Musutafu where you worked full time and Tokyo is a far better city to live in than your hometown.

There’s a comfort in the routine, in knowing exactly what’s expected of you and having the freedom to navigate your own path. Besides, the last thing you want is to be in the spotlight, not when you’re still trying to figure out your own identity beyond being a hero.

In Tokyo, maybe you could finally get away from that messy situation with Bakugo. You could always be three hours away from him, working less, having more time to yourself. Not fighting for any rank.

As the night rolls on, the conversation shifts from work to personal lives, and your coworkers seem all too eager to poke fun at each other. You try to keep your head down, focusing on your drink, but Watanabe isn’t done with you tonight. So much for wanting to get to know you.

You wonder if Bakugo would snap at them for all those questions. God, he infiltrates your mind in all the wrong times.

Begrudgingly you reach for your phone. You want to message him, casually, maybe snap a picture of the place and caption it with something along the lines of ‘wish you were here too’ but that’s pushing it and you’re not even sure he’s going to let you live this through.

Still, you force yourself to reply to him.

It’s simple. It’s three days late, it’s two o’clock in the morning and it’s pushing Saturday. And you don’t even know the state that he’s in tonight.

You: yeah...

You: If I could see you I’d be better.

You press send and think nothing more of it.

“Hey,” it’s a while before Watanabe calls your name again, “you’re awfully quiet over there,” he calls out, his voice cutting through the buzz of chatter. “Got a boyfriend keeping you busy, or something?”

The table erupts in laughter, and you can feel the heat creeping up your cheeks. “Yeah, right,” you scoff, rolling your eyes as you shut off your phone and set it on the table beside you, screen facing the wood “As if I’d have time for that.”

“C’mon!” Aiko, chimes in “You’re out here saving the world everyday! Don’t tell me you don’t have a cute guy waiting for you to come home!”

You chuckle nervously, unsure whether to play along or deflect. “I’ve got my hands full with work,” you say, forcing a smile. “That’s enough of a challenge for me.”

“Maybe you just need to let loose a little,” Watanabe teases, wiggling his eyebrows. “What’s the harm in dating a villain or two? It could spice up your life!”

The group bursts into another round of laughter, and you can’t help but shake your head, a smile tugging at your lips despite the embarrassment. “I think I’ll pass on that,” you reply, trying to sound firm but failing to hide your amusement. “I’m not looking for any extra trouble. Or loosing my license”

“Sure, sure,” Aiko says, leaning closer, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “But if you do find someone, we expect an invite to the wedding! You know how to plan an epic event, right?”

Marriage sounds like a nightmare to you, right now, tonight, at almost three am, when your phone chirps with a notification for a text that you know who it belongs to.

It doesn’t make sense that he’s awake, but your heart tightens as you catch a glimpse of his name on your screen as the light starts to die down.

Katsuki <3: Really?

That’s all it says. One word. You read it in his cocky, too annoyed-at-everything voice.

And yet, it makes your stomach drop.

You stare at your screen, throat tightening. It’s been three days since he texted you—three days of silence on your end, because you didn’t know what to say. Because you were trying to be smart about this, about him. Because you’re trying to keep a space between you, since this isn’t working out for your poor heart.

Because if he wanted to, he would.

You should’ve known he’d be pissed.

“Hey, you good?” Aiko’s voice cuts through the background noise, and you force yourself to look up. She’s watching you closely, brows furrowed. “You just spaced out.”

You exhale slowly, shaking your head. “Yeah. Just—forget it, just my sister.” Your fingers tighten around your glass.

You don’t know what to say to him. You never really do, and yet you answer when you know you shouldn't.

You: really

____

Katsuki stumbles through the front door of his house, the heavy thud of his boots echoing in the quiet of the dead of night.

It’s barely past 3 am.

The dim light of the hallway barely illuminates his bloodied form as he drags himself inside, his limbs heavy and unsteady. His chest rises and falls in uneven gasps, each breath painful, the adrenaline wearing off and leaving him with a deep, gnawing exhaustion. His body screams for rest, but instead, he opts to stare at the screen of his phone, he chooses to re-read your goddamn message like a book that’s too dear to one's heart.

He curses under his breath, a low, rasping sound as his fingers grip the doorframe, steadying himself for a moment. Blood drips— from his eyebrow down to his eyes, from his lip down to his chin, streaking across his costume in dark, splotchy patterns. His head throbs, dizziness sweeping through him like a wave, but he forces himself to move forward. One step. Then another. But each motion feels like a battle, and the world spins with every turn.

The house is silent. Too quiet.

He kicks the door shut behind him, the noise louder than it should be, reverberating through the walls. He freezes for a second, holding his breath, hoping that his mother isn’t awake now, from that sound only. He doesn’t want to deal with her—not now. But of course, the creak of the floorboards in the hallway answers his silent plea, and he hears her footsteps before he even sees her.

Mitsuki, of course, appears at the top of the stairs, her expression initially blank, but then it shifts. Her eyes widen as she takes in the sight of him; his bloodied face, his torn-up hero costume, the way he’s swaying slightly on his feet, his face lit, only by the screen of his phone.

She rushes down the stairs in a frenzy.

“Katsuki?” Her voice is tight, laced with a mixture of surprise and concern, but it doesn’t take long for the anger to seep into her tone.

When she reaches him, she grabs him by the arm, steadying him with a grip that’s deceptively strong for someone who isn’t as physically imposing as him.

“You’re a goddamn mess,” she hisses, her red eyes scanning him with an expert gaze, noting the blood trickling down his face and his furiously bruised cheekbone, “What the hell happened?”

Katsuki opens his mouth to respond, but his words slur slightly, the pain of everything catching up to him. “Nothing. I’m fine.” He tries to brush her off, but his voice cracks as he sways on his feet, almost losing his balance.

“Fine!? Fine?” Mitsuki’s voice sharpens, rising in volume as she pulls him further into the house, her hand pushing him toward the couch. “You’re barely standing, and you’re covered in blood! You think I’m gonna just let that slide?”

“M gonna go bathe, go to sleep ma” he says dismissively, too silently, hissing at the way his jaw clenches before storming off to the downstairs bathroom.

Mitsuki watches him for a long, tense moment as he stumbles toward the bathroom, clearly not even close to being in the state to do anything for himself. But she’s already too far gone to let him do this alone. Her anger is bubbling just beneath the surface, threatening to spill over as she takes a step forward, her eyes narrowing.

“You’re not going anywhere, Katsuki!” she snaps, her voice echoing down the hallway. Without waiting for him to turn around, she grabs his arm again, yanking him back toward her.

Katsuki stumbles forward, but she shoves him down onto the couch, and for a brief second, the world tilts dangerously. He grits his teeth, trying to steady himself, but the dizziness doesn’t let up. His vision blurs, and for a moment, everything feels muffled. He can hear the rapid beat of his heart in his ears, drowning out everything else.

Mitsuki stands over him, arms crossed, her eyes flicking over his body with that sharp, cutting gaze of hers “You’re gonna strain yourself like this, you have to rest.”

“No. No I don’t”

“Don’t give me that shit kid.”

“Oh” he chuckles, looking up at her with full blown eyes “I ain’t giving you any shit Ma. ‘M perfectly fine”

“Right, because isolating yourself and running yourself into the ground is so much better.” She glares at him, voice dropping into something softer, almost concerned. “You barely come home anymore, and when you do, you’re either exhausted or pissed off. This isn’t sustainable, Katsuki. You’ve always been bratty, but this? Why do you always want to get yourself killed?”

He clenches his jaw, looking away, shoulders tense. He hates this—hates feeling like a kid again, like she can still see right through him no matter how much distance he tries to put between them and he definitely hates the fact that his mother has to see him like this. Weakened. Like he’s sixteen with a pierced heart again.

Mitsuki sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. “You should at least spend time with your friends. What about Izuku? He was asking about you the other day.”

That makes Bakugo bristle instantly. “What about him?”

She gives him a look, like he’s being difficult on purpose. “You know. Maybe you should take a page out of his book—he’s got a healthy work-life balance. And he’s got time to check in on people.”

“Yeah? Good for him.” Bakugo’s voice is flat, but his fists tighten at his sides. He brings out his phone again, trying to check the time—it’s 3.12 am, but instead of actually remembering the time on the screen, he sees that stupid photo of you and him as his lock screen.

His mother notices, says something about how ‘you haven’t even called her’ that you’re the same as him. That she sent you a text on messenger about Izuku the other day and you didn’t respond.

Katsuki hates that his mother so casually mentions you in this conversation, like she can make up for the way she’s been speaking to him so far.

His breath catches, but he doesn’t let it show. Instead, he scoffs, shoving his phone into his pocket like the sight of it suddenly pisses him off.

“Tch. She’s busy.”

Mitsuki raises an eyebrow. Of course, she doesn’t stop at lecturing him about work, she has to mention you. You, in the same sentence with Izuku. Like she’s not the reason you haven’t come back in Musutafu for so long. It makes him so extremely mad.

“You should call her. Go to Tokyo with Izuku. Help set them up. It’ll do good to you.”

Katsuki’s eyes snap impossibly open at her words “who? Me? I ain’t you. I ain’t setting anyone up. They’re both shit for all I care. I ain’t going to Tokyo just to set that idiot up with her. And I’m not gonna see anyone who doesn’t want to see me”

Lies. Lies. Fucking lies. He wants to see you so hellishly bad.

He gets beat up by a villain and all he wants to do is come to you, wrap his arms around you and drown in that comforting cradle that you’ve got. And you’re in fucking Tokyo for all he cares, because his mother and Izuku and then himself, pressured you into two different choices the last time you were here.

He can still fucking see you in his kitchen, trying to help his mother put the dishes away. He can still feel you kissing his neck, in his car, that same damn night, when he told you he’d beat the shit out of his childhood friend for wanting to get with you.

He wonders if that’s how you felt, four years ago, when he asked you to let him eat you out so he could practice— to do it to someone else.

You’ve never made it weird. Never judged him. You kept giving and giving and he kept taking for three whole years and instead of manning up asking you to be with him, he let things boil to a shimmer and die down.

Now you’ve been in Tokyo for two whole months. You haven’t visited home at all.

“I don’t need a fucking day off.” His voice is sharp, tired, like he’s barely holding himself together. “And I don’t need to hang out with anyone. I'm not going to waste my time setting anyone up.”

The truth is, he doesn’t want to set you up with anyone but himself and he doesn’t even know how to do that.

“Just because you keep running yourself to the ground doesn’t mean no one else can’t be happy!”

“Huh?” Katsuki asks, like a menace, like he’s so furious at his mother for speaking profanities “I'm perfectly happy being a hero!”

Mitsuki scoffs, crossing her arms over her chest. “Oh, please. You’re a goddamn mess, and you know it. At least help her and Izuku be happy, get yourself someone too! You’re twenty fi—“

“I don’t fucking want anyone, I ain’t got time for this shit!”

Katsuki grits his teeth then hisses, his hands shaking where they’re clenched into fists against his thighs. His head is still pounding, his vision still swimming slightly from exhaustion and blood loss, but nothing—nothing, makes him feel worse than hearing his mother talk about you and Izuku in the same fucking sentence. Hearing her trying to scold him at late am im the morning about being single.

How did this fight—that was originally spurt by his battered state, turn into this?

Right.

It’s because for him, everything somehow leads back to you.

No matter how much time passes, no matter how much distance stretches between you, no matter how much he tries to drown himself in the job and pretend it doesn’t eat at him—it really fucking does.

His mother is still staring him down, exasperation written all over her face, but Katsuki barely sees her anymore. His pulse is pounding in his chest and ears and his jaw is clenched so tight it might crack. He sways slightly on his feet, exhaustion threatening to drag him under, but the anger burning in his chest keeps him upright.

“They’re your friends. For god’s sake”

He doesn’t know who he’s angrier at; Mitsuki, for bringing this shit up and merging into this matter like it’s her business? Izuku, for even being in the damn equation? Or himself, for not shutting this down the second your name left her mouth.

He knows he’s not mad at you though. So that’s got to count for something.

“You’re fucking delusional,” he mutters, dragging a hand down his face. “You really think I give a shit about some dumb romance? You really think I’ve got time to play matchmaker?”

Mitsuki gives him a long, unimpressed look. “I think you’ve got time to be miserable and angry every damn day, so yeah, maybe you could afford to think about something else for once.”

“Ma—”

“Oh, come on.” She rolls her eyes. “You know Izuku’s interested. He told me so himself, and I think she likes him. I don’t see why you have to act so weird about it.” Mitsuki doesn’t notice the way he jerks at that. “You do want her to be happy, don’t you? What’s wrong with giving them a little push?”

His grip on the back of the couch tightens, his breath ragged. “I don’t care what they do,” he lies, and it tastes awful. He absolutely cares about what you do. “Just leave me alone. Wanna wash this blood off me”

He takes off with that— pushes off the couch with any strength he has and gets on his feet. Ready to fleet, ready to rest in the comfort of the downstairs bathroom that he so likes in this house.

And he wobbles, he fucking wobbles. He’s beaten up so bad he really fucking wobbles like a toddler learning to walk.

“Katsuki” Mitsuki snaps towards him, ready to give her full weight to support him and he winces. He wants her away. He’s so tired that he wants everyone to be at least a mile away from him.

“Tch. I just said im fine”

Mitsuki doesn’t buy it for a goddamn second. But he’s fucking fine. At least—he has to be.

He forces his legs to work, trudging toward the bathroom with slow, heavy steps. Every inch of him aches, every breath stings, but he doesn’t stop. He won’t. Not until he’s behind a locked door, away from Mitsuki, away from her damn nagging, away from the thoughts clawing at his skull like they’re trying to tear their way out.

His fingers fumble with the doorknob, slick with sweat and dried blood, but he forces it open, stepping inside and shutting it behind him with more force than necessary. The click of the lock sliding into place echoes in the quiet.

And finally, after an excruciating double shift, a villain with a stupid muscle power quirk and his mother, he’s alone.

Katsuki exhales sharply, leaning against the sink, gripping the cold marble so tight his knuckles go white. His reflection stares back at him from the mirror, slightly swollen, bruised. His lip is split, dried blood crusting over it, and there’s a deep gash above his brow that still oozes sluggishly down the side of his face. The bruise at his cheekbone shines through it all like a movie star on a red carpet premiere.

He looks like shit. He knows that much.

He scoffs bitterly at himself before turning the faucet on, letting the water run warm. He peels his hero costume -whatever’s left of it- off piece by piece, each movement stiff, his muscles protesting as the adrenaline wears off completely. The fabric clings to his skin where the blood has dried, and he hisses when he finally manages to strip the last of it away, standing bare in the dim light of the bathroom.

His body is littered with bruises, deep and ugly, blooming across his chest, ribs, and arms. He traces his fingers over a few of them while looking at himself in the mirror before shaking his head and stepping into the shower.

The moment the hot water hits his skin, a groan rips from his throat. His body slackens, his forehead pressing against the cool tile as steam fills the space around him. The heat soothes some of the ache, washing away the blood and grime, but it does nothing for the real problem.

Nothing washes you away.

A year ago you said you two should stop fucking around. He said yes. No more casual sex, no more getting in between your legs almost every Friday night when you’d arrive at the train station. No more one on one time at night at all, in his car.

A year ago, he said he’d be a good friend. You did too. But you ghosting him for two months and then replying to him three days after his initial text with the desire to see him, deems him unable to keep his word.

He hates it. Hates how even now, even here, when he should be focusing on breathing through the pain of his body, his mind still drags him back to you. To the message on his phone. To the two months of silence that stretch between you like a fucking canyon that was broken tonight with that wrecking ball of a sentence.

It’s stupid. It’s nothing. It’s a simple fucking sentence, but it’s you.

He squeezes his eyes shut, fists clenching at his sides. He wants to hear your voice. He wants to tell you to come back. Offer you a job at his agency too.

He wants to demand to know if you miss him like he misses you—if you ache for him the way he aches for you. He wants to make this shitty fucking joke of entanglement end and make you his officially.

Dammit, he just wants the normality of you.

He can’t let anyone swoosh you away from him.

He sighs.

Tokyo is three hours away, but at this time the roads are empty and truthfully, he’d be better if he could see you too.

Exiting the bathroom, he’s already set on a decision for tonight. He throws on a hoodie and a pair of sweatpants; the set of gray ones that you got him for his birthday two years ago, jokingly saying it’s an outfit for your eyes only, and rampages through his clothes for another change.

With a backpack that’s too out of sight, he scoffs, running a finger through his damp hair. He's too frantic about this, but he’s going to do it.

Mitsuki crosses her arms, unimpressed, standing right at the doorframe of his room.

“Where are you going now? You’re gonna go sleep at the agency? Get a bed in there won’t you?” She jabs and Katsuki stares at her so intensely, backpack finally in his sight and hand that he feels his look could pierce through her.

The sound of Bakugo’s palm slamming against the edge of the bed as he grabs at his clothes makes her jump.

“Stay the fuck out of it,” he growls.

“You’re gonna wake up your father if you keep yelling like that”

“I'm going to Tokyo” he finally announces, after a moment of silence. He wants to be calm. He wants to be with you.

Mitsuki blinks at him, momentarily caught off guard. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” His voice is low, rough, like he’s barely keeping himself in check.

“But she and Izuku, they—“

“They’re not a fucking they.” His breathing is harsh, eyes blazing with fury. “I wanted her first. Got her first and you don’t get to decide shit for her. Stop with this fucking Izuku bullshit. If you wanna play matchmaker do it for me and her”

Mitsuki studies him for half a second before scoffing. “Oh, please. Don’t tell me you actually—”

Katsuki doesn’t move, doesn’t blink, but she sees the way his grip tightens around the backpack’s edge.

Mitsuki exhales sharply. “Jesus Christ.” She shakes her head and smiles “You do like her.”

The silence that follows is suffocating.

Bakugo’s fingers twitch. His mouth opens, then closes. His heart is pounding, but he refuses to let it show.

“You’re gonna strain yourself like this, you have to rest. Go tomorrow ”

“I don’t wanna rest,” he snaps, voice low and razor-sharp. “Can’t fucking rest, so what do you want?”

Mitsuki glares at him, arms crossed tight. “Don’t you dare start with me, Katsuki. You come home at three in the goddamn morning looking like that— you’re not going to Tokyo in the middle of the fucking night.”

“Oh yeah? Watch me.”

Mitsuki pinches the bridge of her nose, inhaling deeply. She looks at him the way she always has when he’s being especially difficult—like she’s two seconds away from wringing his neck and kissing his forehead all in the same breath.

“Katsuki.” Her voice is sharp but edged so sweetly. Right underneath. “You can barely stand.”

“I can stand just fine.”

“You were wobbling like a damn drunkard ten minutes ago.”

His jaw tightens. “I’m going.”

“You’re just gonna show up at her door? At this hour? Looking like that?”

Katsuki’s grip on his backpack tightens. Yeah. That’s exactly what he’s gonna do. That's the plan.

Mitsuki exhales slowly, shaking her head. “You’re not thinking straight.”

“M not,” he admits, “but I don’t care.”

He steps past her, brushing against her shoulder as he heads for the door. Mitsuki doesn’t stop him this time, just lets him go with a sigh that sounds resigned. She’s too tired too.

Katsuki pauses, his hand hovering over the doorknob. His mother’s voice follows him like a shadow.

“Be careful”

He doesn’t respond. Just pulls the door open and steps outside, rushing to his car.

The roads are empty and he’s driving a porche.

Tokyo is three hours away— but he’s gripping the steering wheel like he can cut that time in half. The dashboard clock glares at him, bright in the dark.

3:45 am.

He doesn’t care. He barely even feels the bruises tightening over his ribs as he shifts in his seat, pushing the car faster down the highway.

He should call, let you know, ask you why you’re up so late, ask what you’re doing, ask if you’re even okay with him coming to fucking Tokyo in the middle of the night just because he wants to hold you.

Instead—He sends you a text.

_____

Katsuki <3: Where the fuck are you?

You blink at the screen, heart stuttering in your chest.

It’s four in the morning. You weren’t expecting him to respond—especially not this late, and definitely not like this.

Your fingers hover over the keyboard. You could play it off, tell him you’re just out with coworkers, that it’s nothing. But there’s something about the way he texted you that makes your stomach twist.

You: Izakaya in Shibuya

Katsuki <3: You drinking?

You hesitate at first. What does it matter if you are? You’re not his girlfriend. Hell, you’re barely even friends at this point—not after two months of silence, not after you stopped responding like a coward. You’ve been nothing but unfair to him and yet, you reply, perhaps out of the newfound boldness of sake. Like this damn exchange of messages means anything.

You: yes

You set your phone to the side, get sucked into any conversation thats going on in the background

But then, before you can reply to whatever question Aiko shoots at you, your phone buzzes again.

Katsuki <3: R u drunk?

The words send a shiver down your spine.

“Hey, everything okay?” Aiko’s voice pulls you back to the present. She’s leaning toward you, brows raised in concern. You force a smile, nodding as you flip your phone facedown after typing the fastest reply in the world.

You: eh idk

You: why?

Not a lie. Not the whole truth, either.

Katsuki <3: just checking

You’re restless now. Your fingers tap against the side of your glass, your pulse thrumming in time with the background music. Bakugo shouldn’t have this effect on you anymore—not after all these years, not after everything.

And yet a lump forms in your throat.

If he wanted to, he would.

Maybe this is just nothing. He’s just bored. Just finished a night shift. Maybe he’s drunk and picking at a wound he doesn’t even realize he left behind.

Part of you wants to ask if he’s doing okay, if work at his own agency has been treating him right lately. But you don’t. You’re lost in your own trance of thoughts.

You want to fucking leave this place. You want to go home. Stare at the screen of your phone, at that two worded response until the sun is up.

“So if you date anyone, you’ll invite us to your wedding?” Aiko asks, giggling over her own glass.

Oh right, the topic of conversation is romance once again.

If you could vomit your heart out on demand, you would.

“My imaginary wedding? Yeah yeah”

You quickly start to think of ways to run away from this place to go home, but none of them do. You just have to rip the bandaid off and do it.

“Promiiiise!”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Alright, I promise, though I have to go, I got a big report to fill out tomorrow and I need to make sure I’m awake enough to handle all of you!”

As you stand up to leave, Aiko leans across the table, her expression suddenly serious. “Don’t fall for any villain on the way home”

“Yeah, please dont, text us when you get home!” Watanabe adds, throwing an arm around your shoulders. “You know we’re always here for you”

You smile, feeling a warmth in your chest at their support, but secretly you wish this was your friend group back home saying all this to you “I will, I promise! Thanks for tonight, you guys. It was… surprisingly fun.”

When you finish gathering your things, Watanabe leans forward, an adorning grin plastered on his face. “Wait a second! I’ll call you a cab it’s almost five am”

Your heart skips a beat, and you freeze for a moment, caught off guard. “Uh, thank you so much,” you say quickly.

“No problem! Get home safe and let us know you’re safe”

You give them one last smile, your heart lighter than when you first arrived. “Alright, alright! I’ll keep you posted!”

As you make your way to the exit, you can still hear their laughter and playful teasing trailing behind you. You can’t help but feel lighter as you step out into the cool Tokyo night, the city alive with its usual energy.

The streetlights cast a warm glow around you, and the chill in the air feels refreshing against your skin. Your thoughts drift back to the teasing, the laughter, and the moments shared. There’s something about it all that ignites a spark of hope within you. Maybe it was time you made a hear out of permanently living in Tokyo.

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Sorry if I’ve missed anyone. I will be updating it in the morning

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angelqueef · 1 day ago

Note

i am IN LOVE with your forbidden fruit!simon. if you ever have anything that has more stoner ghost i would cry fr. luv u~

forbidden fruit, prologue

wow thank you!! here’s a little blurb about when the horny stoners first met, just 4 you!

cw: simon is retired, drug usage (weed), dom/sub undertones if you squint, not proofread

willow tree, plush moss, a marshy pond less than ten feet in front of you. it’s the ideal spot. a little bit of a long walk from the main park, but it’s secluded, quiet. the chances of you getting caught are slim.

you lay down your picnic blanket under the tree and curate the perfect spread: a fruit bowl, warm sandwich from your favorite hole-in-the-wall café, ginger ale, and two fat joints, rolled and packed with love—sealed in pink paper.

you sigh contentedly at your work and take a cross legged seat on the soft blanket, music playing in your ears. it’s not too loud, but loud enough that you can’t hear him, the man that takes a seat on the bench just some feet behind the willow tree.

simon doesn’t see you either. he thinks he’s just stumbled upon a beautiful, unoccupied smoke spot. the stump of the tree is wide enough to hide your slouched figure, and his own earbuds blare music that envelops his ears enough that he doesn’t hear you unwrap your sandwich and spark up.

it’s not until the wind blows that he notices someone else in his spot. the earthy, citrusy scent fills his nostrils, with the undercurrent of something musky and warm, vanilla sweet. you.

he watches smoke billow from behind the tree, chuckling to himself. someone else found a perfect spot, huh? he lights his own joint and leans back, sighing as the first puff melts the stiffness in his joints.

you’re munching on a strawberry and taking long drags of your joint, adoring in the way the fruit flavors the smoke. you sniff, for some reason the smoke smells stronger. it’s heavy and savory in your lungs. much different from what you’re smoking. you lean back and peak behind the tree to find the source. you catch a huge, burly man clad in black, spread across the bench.

you two barely make eye contact before you squeak, hiding back behind the tree. god dammit, your secret isn’t so secret anymore.

simon’s eyes widen at the glimpse of you, curls springing from your head like a crown, eyes and skin brown and glossed, glowing under the evening sun.

suddenly his booted feet are dragging his body to you.

you’re a bit scared, but you’re so high that the anxiety just simmers in your stomach, unable to rise to your brain.

“hello,” he greets, voice low and gravelly.

you study him with worried eyes—blonde cropped hair under a black hoodie, gold lashes that traced around his amber eyes, a crooked nose, frown lines that wormed their way between his brows, a scar that trails down his right cheek, soft but equally large muscles that strain against every inch of fabric. you swallow the heat that pools inside you. he’s handsome.

“hi,” you say back, chirp barely audible.

“sorry t’bother ya,” he starts, also shy. “couldn’t help but notice someone in my secret spot.”

you let out a giggle, one that lasts longer than it should, “this is my secret spot.”

he pauses his music, hoping your laugh can imprint itself on his eardrums and stay there forever, “really, now? hope you don’t mind sharin’ then.”

“i don’t mind,” you scooch over on the blanket without thinking. what the hell were you doing, letting a stranger, let alone a man, this close?

“you’re not gonna kidnap me, are you?” god, this weed makes you chatty.

simon cocks an eyebrow at you. silly girl, so naïve. he has no wants of hurting you, in fact quite the opposite. but your lack of self preservation makes his chest tighten. he gets the primal urge to protect you.

“no, luv. got no intentions of botherin’ you. i’ll leave if you like.”

part of him hopes you’ll tell him to leave, he wants to believe that you have some semblance of common sense.

but for some reason, your heart sinks at the thought. as wary as you were, there was something about his presence that you liked. it was dark, weighted, grounding. you didn’t even know his name, but he felt comfortable.

“n-no, you can stay,” you push the bowl of fruit to him and offer him your joint, “tradesies?”

“huh?”

“you hit mine, i hit yours?”

“oh, sure. thanks luv,” your hands swap joints, his big, tattooed hand dwarfing yours, “name’s simon, by the way.”

you smile, “hi simon,” you give him your name and hold out your hand. he takes it in his, but doesn’t shake it. just holds it. calloused thumb rubbing over your knuckles. you laugh nervously and take your hand away.

his heart thrums, you’re soft.

you hit his joint a couple times, the flavor harsh in your mouth, making you drool. you feel yourself sinking in the blanket, body glued and weightless at the same time.

“woah, this is different,” you blurt out, eyes locked on the pond in front of you.

“it’s for m’joints,” he states, taking a long drag from your spliff, the sight of the pale pink dwarfed by his hand is comical, “got old military bones.”

“oh, uhm, thank you for your service,” you say, handing his smoke back to him. he gives you yours.

“nah, luvie. nothin’ to thank me for,” his voice is low and laced with sadness, regret.

you hum, knowing you couldn’t begin to understand the horrors he’s seen and probably committed.

simon intrigues you. in any other event you would’ve made your voice low and curt, shoo’d a man away and out of your sight. but the way he approached you, calm, hesitant, no innuendo. there’s something different about the big lug.

you spread your limbs out on the blanket and turn to him, knee hiked up, making the curve of your hip pop. it’s clear you have no intentions of seducing him, you’re stretched and laid out like a cat, but simon can’t help but swallow as his eyes trail up and down your figure.

he mimics you, laying down on his side to face you. he can’t stop the hand that reaches out and trails down your hairline. you can’t stop it either, too relaxed to move.

“y’pretty,” he murmurs, reddening gaze shifting from your eyes to your lips.

you inhale sharply, startled at his advances, “thank you.”

you’re both pretty blazed, unable to stop staring at each other. his hand hasn’t quit trailing up and down the side of your cheek, occasionally pinching and pulling the fat, like a mother would do to her baby.

you both sit there for what seems like hours, breathing in each other’s new and strange presence. the sun is almost completely gone. you’re comfortable, he’s lulling you to sleep until reality sets in, making your eyes snap open.

why the hell are you letting a stranger touch and lay with you? and for so long? do you have a death wish?

you shoot up, clearing your throat, “‘m sorry simon, i just- i just realized i have to go, got something- got stuff to do at the house.”

your fear is clear to him, even if you didn’t say anything he could smell it. maybe you do have some survival instincts. he sits up with you but scoots away while doing so, putting some distance between you.

“tha’s alright, luv. didn’t mean to scare ya,” he says softly, he knows being scared while high is intense, so he’s being as gentle as possible.

“n-no it’s okay. i just, i mean, you know how it is.”

“i’m a strange man laying on your blanket n’ carressin’ you. i get it,” shit, he’s scaring you off. right when you were safe and warm under his palm.

he watches as you swiftly pack your things, scurrying like a little animal. he comes to a stand to help you fold your blanket. you reject him, “i’ve got it.”

he backs off. he notices the wall you put in front of him.

you’re all packed up when you face him again, eye contact unstable, “it was really nice meeting you, i uhm- i’ll see you around.”

simon nods, “nice talkin’ to ya,” he wants to tell you how nice it was to meet a pretty thing like you, tilt your chin up and kiss the corner of your plump lips, but he doesn’t. he can’t.

“listen, uh, before you go,” he starts as you go to turn away.

“yes?”

“go ahead and give me your number,” not a request, a command, “i got this real good plug, y’see. wouldn’t want you to miss out on the good stuff.”

you nod, pressing your lips together to keep from smiling, “y-yea..that would be nice, thank you.”

you’re unsure you’d even respond if he reached out, but you take a chance anyways, putting you number in his old phone.

“on you go now, luvie. get home safe.”

you give a shy, closed mouth smile, “thanks for, the uh, you know,” you mime a smoking motion with your hands.

simon chuckles.

“anytime.”

he watches you prance away from him, almost skipping. he smiles to himself.

he’d get through to you eventually.

#cod x reader #x black reader #ghost cod #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #cod fluff #stoner!reader #stoner!simon #stoner!ghost #forbiddenfruit!simon #cw drugs

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offbrandkyoya · 8 hours ago

Note

Hi! I found out about your Scaramouche smau a few days ago and I love it really much it’s a masterpiece <3 Idk if you would take requests about, if you do I thought it’d be cute to think that they have 2 sons that one is just like Scara and the other one is like Y/N, how the couple would deal with them🫶

It Takes Two! - Scaramouche (genshin)

continuation of the smau where you and scaramouche have kids now! what can go wrong???

contents: angst (sorry), smau pt2 but also it’s not a smau but it’s part of the smau, children being children, (M/D) is like mommy or daddy whatever u perfer gang, my notes app lagged sm as I wrote this, hot dilf, albedo mention, proofread to an extent, happy ending, GIVE SCARAMOUCHE A CHILD.

word count: like..6k……….

a/n: FINALLY it’s OVER 😭😭😭😭😭😭 I just had sm ideas for this and idek if it turned out well 💔 so if it feels rushed at the end I’m sorry……..it does make me happy that ppl love this smau so much because I rlly liked scarayn’s relationship. tbh fun fact: there WAS gonna be a timeskip where they end up having kids but idk I didn’t know if anyone would want that. enough yapping TYSM and again sorry this took like centuries.

It’s crazy to think that people are right about kids turning out exactly like their parents.

‘It’s part of the genetics.’ Aether told you once. You didn’t believe it entirely. You understood when it came to looks, but personality? No way! You found that incredibly silly. Scaramouche didn’t believe it either. He thought it was dumb and that it’s all in people’s heads.

That’s until you two had your own.

You have two boys, Sora and Ren. Sora is the oldest, 4 years old, while Ren is the youngest, 3 years old. Sora is a lot like you; it is insane. He’s quite bold and boisterous. He even inherited your interest in painting. He loves painting the walls despite you and Scaramouche scolding him about it. Sora is completely optimistic, but your favorite characteristic about him is that he follows his dad around the house like a duckling.

Ren, on the other hand, is a lot like Scaramouche. Quiet and socially awkward. He’s pretty moody at times too and doesn’t like being told what to do. When Ren was born, he had a huge attachment towards you and hated whenever Scaramouche would hold him. Honestly, he hates it now and prefers you over him any day.

What’s funny is he looks like his dad. The boys both do, but Sora inherited more of your facial features.

You love them, but there are times when they’re a bit difficult to handle.

Sora had his first field trip at school. He was so excited, yapping about it to his dad as they drove home. When they arrive, he runs straight to you, showing off the slip. You took the paper and read the contents on it. “A trip to the zoo? Sounds fun!” “It is fun!” He says, “Can I go?”

You smile with a giggle. “Of course you can go.” “Yay!” Scaramouche stands next to you, glancing over to read the paper. “Can you come too?” Sora asks innocently. “Hmm…” You look at your husband. “I don’t see the problem with it.” Scaramouche hums, “You’re not going to be missing much at home.” You looked back at your son. “I’ll go.” Sora jumps up and down ecstatically. “Yay! Yay! Yay!”

You both smiled at your son’s excitement until Ren began to shout, “I want to go too!” Sora shakes his head. “You can’t!” “Why?!” “Because you’re not in kindergarten.” He states matter-of-factly. Ren puffs up his cheeks. “That’s not fair!” He started tearing up, and you quickly scooped him in your arms to calm him down.

“It’s okay, Ren. You and Daddy can have fun while we’re gone.” Ren stares at you unimpressed before he hides his face in your shirt, wiping his tears away. You sigh and pat his back. “Sora, don’t be mean to your brother.” Scaramouche says, and Sora gasps, “I wasn’t!”

After Ren calmed down, you all began to eat dinner, and the focus on the trip completely changed to something else.

As the boys were getting ready for bed, Sora hands you the slip. “Sign it so I can be the first to turn it in!” You laughed, “Okay.” You kiss his forehead. “Goodnight.” “Goodnight.” You walk to the other side where Ren slept, and you can tell he’s still upset about what happened.

You sit down on the edge, moving his bangs away. “It’s okay.” You tell him, but he doesn’t say anything. You kiss his forehead. “You can have more fun while we’re gone.” “But I want to be with you.” “Don’t you like Daddy?” He nods slowly. “He’s no fun, though.” You snort before clearing your throat. “He can be. Just ask him what you want, and he’ll say yes.”

“Are you sure?” He asks in disbelief. “I’m sure. I’m always right!” You exclaim, and he laughs a little. “Okay, time for bed. Goodnight, Ren.” “Goodnight.”

You turn on the nightlight and head out to your room. Once you enter, Scaramouche is already there dozing off. You chuckle before crawling right next to him. “Hey, sleepyhead.” He raises a brow before opening his eyes to you. “You took your time.” “Oh, shut up.” He shifts his body to face you, rests his head on your shoulder, and watches you sign the permission slip.

“What will you guys do when we’re gone?” You ask him, and he shrugs. “Maybe go get ice cream or something.” “Wow, dad of the year.” “Shut up!” Scaramouche sighs, “He doesn’t like anything I do. He practically hates me.” “Hey,” You put the paper down on your nightstand and turn your whole body towards him. “Don’t say that; he likes you.” Scaramouche sits up. “I don’t know.” “He does.” You place a hand on his arm.

“What makes you think he hates you?” “Maybe because he clings onto you almost every day? When I pick him up from daycare, he never wants to talk to me.” You frowned, “Scara, you should try.” “I do try! He’s not like Sora! Sora can handle a conversation easily, but Ren…Ren will just look at me like I’m stupid.”

Scaramouche suddenly looks down, gripping his hands tightly. “Ren is a lot like me, and I don’t want him to grow up like how I did… I want him to turn out perfect.” You cup his face, forcing him to look at you. “Ren is perfect, just the way he is. I know you’re scared, but we’re in this together. You’re…you’re not like your mom, remember that.” Scaramouche blushes and nods.

You kiss him before letting go. “Let’s get some rest, okay?” “Okay.”

After a few weeks, it was time for Sora's field trip.

“Hurry up, M/D!!! We’re going to be late!” Sora shouts, jumping up and down by the door. You roll your eyes playfully, “It’s okay, baby. We’re not going to be late, I promise.” He huffs in response.

Scaramouche carries Ren as they stand by the door next to Sora. “You got everything?” Your husband asks, and you nod. “Sora, be good.” He tells him, and Sora nods, “I will!” Scaramouche smiles and kneels down to kiss his forehead. He gets back up and kisses you. “Be careful.” You smiled, “I will.” You turn to Ren and kiss his cheek. “Have fun and be good at daycare.”

Ren nods, nuzzling his dad’s neck. You and Sora say more goodbyes before exiting the house and getting in the car to head to school. Now, it was just Scaramouche and Ren.

“Okay, it’s time for you to get ready for daycare.” Scaramouche tells his son, but he didn’t give a response and simply stared at him. Scaramouche sighs a little before heading to his bedroom.

You and Sora successfully made it, and it made you so happy seeing your son excited for the trip. After the teacher talked to the class and chaperones, you all headed inside the bus, and Sora sat with you.

However, you couldn’t help but worry about your husband and baby being alone for the day. You suck it up, though, because Scaramouche is a good dad! He will be just fine! You hope. You sigh, staring at your phone. Sora, who was staring out the window, tugs on your sleeve rapidly. “M/D, look!” He taps on the glass, and you grab his hand to stop it.

“Sora, don’t do that.” He pouts, crossing his arms. You ruffle his hair. “What was it that you wanted to show me?” “Nothing.” Your brows furrowed, “Surely, it was something.” “It was nothing!” He screeched before looking the other way. You huff and then smirk. “Well…okay…” You begin, turning the other way with a solemn expression. “I’m sure Daddy and Ren would’ve loved to know what you saw…”

From the corner of your eye, you see him stiffen up. You snort before clearing your throat to continue with a sigh. “A shame, really…and here I thought they’d like to know your adventures.” Sora quickly turns to you and clutches onto your arms. “No! I want to tell Daddy and Ren everything I see!!” You laugh as he shakes you after every word he says.

“Alright, alright.” You squish his face before combing his hair. “No more tantrums.” He pouts, and you place a kiss on his forehead. “You can get in trouble tapping the windows like that.” Sora continues to pout, but he nods in understanding. “I don’t want to get in trouble…” “You won’t be if you continue. Can you promise me you’ll be on your best behavior?” He nods, which makes you nod too.

“Good boy.” You pull him in a tight hug, and he laughs. “M/D, you’re squeezing me!!!!!!” “I can’t help it! I just love you so much!” You continue to hug him as he squirms under your hold. You love moments like these.

You just wish Scaramouche was here to see it.

Speaking of…

Scaramouche lounged on the sofa, watching TV. It’s been hours since you and your son left, along with dropping off Ren at daycare. He feels bored and a little bit lonely. Who is he kidding? He misses his family a lot. You won’t return till the end of the day. When the boys are at school, you two get to spend some quality time together, be it cuddling in bed, cooking, watching movies, or even other things a bit more intense.

Scaramouche squished his red face. “I miss them…” He whispered to seemingly no one. He glances at the clock and realizes it was time to pick up Ren from daycare.

Scaramouche gets up, turns off the TV, gathers his keys, and heads right out the door. Entering the car, he thinks of things to do with Ren while they wait for you and Sora.

He tries to think about what Aether does with his own child, but he doesn’t want to seem like a copycat. Sighing, Scaramouche continues to ponder what fun events to do.

When arriving, he can see his son standing by the teacher with quite a sad expression. His heart aches, and Scaramouche just wants to get him out of there. Scaramouche gets out, and once he walks closer, Ren runs right to him, hugging his right leg for dear life.

“Ren? What’s wrong?” Scaramouche rubs the top of his head as a source of comfort for the boy. Then, the teacher walks up to him. “Scaramouche, there is something I’d like to speak with you about.” “I’m sorry?”

She smiles softly, “It’s about Ren. It’s nothing bad, I promise you! I’d like it if we discussed it in private.” Upon hearing those words, Ren shakes his head rapidly, refusing to let go of his father. The teacher takes notice of this and then clears her throat. “Ren, dear, you’re not in trouble. You don’t need to be afraid.”

Ren didn’t care; he didn’t bother to look at the woman. Scaramouche looks at him, then at her. “We can discuss it here.” “Are you sure?” “Well, if it’s so important, you can say it here. Like you said, my son isn’t in trouble.” “Ah, well…” Scaramouche glares at her, and she stiffens a little.

“Okay, it’s just, I’m worried that Ren is a little behind.” Scaramouche blinks in surprise. “Behind?” “Yes, he isn’t quite open to the other kids his age, and he rarely speaks. He also never wants to do activities, and it’s gotten worse today. I worry that he’ll be alone as he gets older.”

Scaramouche scrunched his nose. “Wait, what do you mean it got worse?” She takes in a breath. “Well, he caused a scene. Another kid wanted to play with him, but he got upset, started crying hysterically, and shoved the poor boy. I tried to calm him down, but he wasn’t cooperative.”

Scaramouche looks down at his son. “Ren.” The boy didn’t look at him. “He began throwing stuff, and…he wouldn’t stop crying until I moved him somewhere else where he could be by himself…” Scaramouche sighs, “Ren, look at me.” He doesn’t and just buried his face even more. Scaramouche looks back at the woman and bows a little. “I’m sorry about his behavior. I’ll talk to him.” “Thank you.”

There was no denying that the car ride was eerily silent.

When they arrived home, Ren ran straight to his room. “Ren!” Scaramouche calls out. He follows right after and enters the child’s room, seeing him curled up in a ball under his blanket.

“Ren.” Scaramouche sits on the edge of the bed, shaking him a little. “Ren, you shouldn’t have done that.” He tells him. “It’s not right to throw things or hit people.” Ren still doesn’t respond, which upsets Scaramouche a little. “Ren, you can’t act like that; that’s not right. You need to be good and give the teacher an easy time. You have to listen to her and do what she says.”

Scaramouche still wasn’t getting a response. With furrowed brows he asks, “Are you even listening? You need to be polite and respectful. Your brother didn’t act like that when he went. M/D would be upset if they were here.” Suddenly, Ren pops his head out, tears were streaming down his face, and he screams. “YOU’RE NOT M/D!!!!”

Scaramouche looks at him in shock. “I WANT M/D!!” Ren screams again, choking on his sobs. Scaramouche tries to calm him down by reaching out, but Ren turns away. “When’s M/D coming home?” He whimpers. “I want M/D.” He cries and cries. “I WANT M/D, NOT YOU!!”

Then, something snapped in Scaramouche. “They’re not coming till later, remember? You’re stuck with me whether you like it or not! You don’t want to listen? Fine! But I’m still telling them what you did!” Ren hides away again, infuriating Scaramouche even more. “Ren! Don’t hide from me!” Ren’s cries turned into hysteric screams, so Scaramouche stands up and heads to the door.

“Continue to act like that! You’re only embarrassing yourself! All you needed to do was apologize, and that was it!” “I HATE YOU!” Ren screams, and his grip on the doorknob tightens. “Keep crying. Maybe M/D will come back faster.” Then, he exits, slamming the door shut in the process.

Scaramouche leans back, his head dropped down. ‘Why did I say that?’ He asks himself. ‘Why did I do that? Why? Why? Why?’

Scaramouche slowly walks to his bedroom, sits on the edge, and continues to stare down at the floor. His son was crying, and all he did was scold him. He’s just a boy; he didn’t need all of that harshness. Scaramouche’s eyes water, and he covers his face.

“I wish Y/N were here…”

The field trip was going great.

You took so many pictures of your adorable son and his group. The zoo is such a common place, but Sora was still mesmerized by everything.

You all reunited for lunchtime, and you sat with your groups. The tables were long, so another group along with a parent sat with you all across. You listened to Sora chat with his friends while eating. You sent a text to your husband that things were going well and went back to eating.

You noticed that you had finished your juice box before your sandwich and decided to get some more from the teacher, who had supplied extra snacks just in case. You stood up and turned to Sora. “I’m getting more juice; want some?” He nods excitedly, “Yes!”

You giggle and go to the teacher to kindly ask for more refreshments. She nodded, saying, “Oh, of course!” She hands you the juice boxes, and you gladly thank her. Suddenly, you hear a loud, “NO!” Almost everyone in the class turned to the direction the noise came from.

It turns out it was your table.

You rush over and see one of the kids in tears with his mother hugging him tight. “What’s going on?” You ask, standing next to your own son. You noticed that the mother was glaring at your kid before looking at you. “Your son here can’t keep his hands to himself!” “What?” Sora immediately looks at you. “He started it first!”

The mom shakes her head. “You need to teach him some discipline! He hit my kid!!” You frowned and crossed your arms. “Sora, how could you?” Sora tears up too. “I told you, he did it first!” “Excuses!” She screams. “My son didn’t raise a finger at him at all!!” The teacher comes over and tries to calm the situation down before it escalates.

In the end, Sora had to apologize, and you did as well.

“Sora,” You spoke firmly. He didn’t look at you. It’s clear he was upset that you didn’t take his side. Before you could say anything else, it was time for the groups to go on their last stroll before leaving.

Your group went far from where the other boys were since the teacher thought it’d be best.

You watched your kids observe the giraffes with a guide explaining some facts about them. You decided to take a quick step back to call Scaramouche. He hasn’t responded, so you were quite worried. So, you called him, awaiting his response. He picked it up, and you let out a sigh of relief. “Scara! Hi honey, I just wanted to check on you! How are my favorite boys doing?”

There was silence. “Scara? Is everything okay?” “No.” The way he responded made your heart break. He sounded so defeated. “Babe, what’s wrong?” “Ren did something at daycare today.” “Oh, what did he do?” “He threw a tantrum.”

You raised a brow. “Well, he is a kid. It’s quite normal. There’s no need to stress about it!” “No.” “No?” You tilt your head. “The teacher told me he was throwing things and he wouldn’t stop crying. She said he’s never cooperative and always alone. He doesn’t want to be with the other kids. He doesn’t even talk!”

You frowned, “Scara-“ “So she told me to talk to him about it, and I tried! I tried to, but he kept shutting me out! He hid from me and started crying so hard, and he wouldn’t even talk to me!” You decided to let him continue venting out his frustrations. “He kept crying and crying, and I tried talking to him, but he wasn’t responding, and it was pissing me off! After all that, he told me he didn’t even want me, that he wants you. He kept asking for you and didn’t care about the shit I had to say! He didn’t even care that I was there instead of you! And…”

Scaramouche started to quiet down. “And…?” You repeat. “Yn, I yelled at him. I…I can’t believe I did that. All I did was make things worse.” You can hear the slight crack in his voice. “I’m so bad at this parent thing compared to you. Ren doesn’t like me because I’m so angry and dry all the time. I’m not gentle at all. I’m not even patient either!”

You furrow your brows. “Hey, don’t say that. Scara, raising a kid is stressful.” “But you make it so easy. My mom never wanted me, so it makes sense why my own son doesn’t either.” “Scaramouche!” You raise your voice a bit. “Ren does love you! He has a hard time expressing it, sure, but he’s just a baby. Our baby. You said he got in trouble, right? He was probably scared about the situation and got overwhelmed. We say things we don’t mean, and I’m positive Ren didn’t mean to say that.”

“…Are you sure?” You sigh, “Yes, I’m sure. I mean, you said stuff to him too, didn’t you?” “Yeah.” “See? Scaramouche, I know how much you love our boys. Remember when Ren was born and I was so exhausted that you took care of him instead? He cried so much at night, and you managed to get him to sleep quicker than I could!”

“That was just luck…” “Or it’s because he loves you. How about that?” Scaramouche didn’t say anything. “I think you should just give him his space for a bit before talking to him again. Kids say things they don’t mean. They learn from us sometimes, which means we need to grow too. Don’t give up, okay? I don’t want you becoming a deadbeat dad.”

You hear Scaramouche choke on his own spit before replying. “I’m not going to do that!!” You smirk, “I don’t know… sounds like you’re abandoning me…” “Yn, you know damn well.” You laugh, receiving a sigh from him.

“You know I love you!” “Yeah, okay.” “Hey! Scaramouche chuckles. “I…I miss you.” You blushed but smiled. “I miss you too. We’ll be home soon.” “Get home faster.” You roll your eyes playfully, then look back at your group of kids. Immediately, you noticed Sora wasn’t there as you counted heads.

“Yn?” “Sora’s gone.” You blurt out. “What? What do you mean he’s gone?” “I-I mean, he’s gone! He’s not with the others!” You rush to the guide, “Excuse me, have you seen where my son went?” He shakes his head. “I’m sorry, but I didn’t see a child leave.” The other kids look at you, then look at each other, also trying to see if they can find Sora with them.

“Sora’s not here!” A girl screams, making the other kids panic. “Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no.” “Yn, relax.” Scaramouche tells you. “H-He was right there! Why, how?! I only looked away for a minute, I swear!” “It’s okay, Yn. Take a deep breath.”

You scan around, then look at the children. “Stay here with the nice zoo man, okay?” “Where’s Sora?” One of his friends asks. “He must’ve gone to the bathroom.” The guide says, trying to lighten the situation. You nod, “Yes, everyone stay here, okay? Don’t run off.”

You head in the direction where the bathrooms are. “Scara, I’ll call you later. I need to focus!” “Okay, let me know when you find Sora.” “I will. I love you.” “I love you too.” You hang up and run endlessly around the zoo. The fear of your son possibly getting kidnapped was on your mind. You wouldn’t forgive yourself if that happened. You check the bathrooms, “Sora?!” You shout. “Sora, baby, are you here?!” There was no response, so you rush out. “Sora! Sora!!” You scream.

You ran inside the merchandise store, completely sweating and in panic. The more time you spent wandering around, the more your fears increased. The horror of finding out your son is nowhere to be found and gone for good is something you don’t want to be true.

You asked every person you saw, but they knew nothing. You rush out again with your heart pounding faster and faster as time passes. Suddenly, your gut was telling you to search the ice cream shop that was right next to where the school ate.

You didn’t hesitate to trust it and ran right to that location. Then, you saw Sora, and you couldn’t help but feel tears coming. Before you can even call to him, you notice a pair of grown women standing next to him, and it was clear Sora was uncomfortable.

Your parental instincts instantly turned on, and you stood right in front of your boy, your arms spread out to protect him. Feeling his hands clutch onto your legs, you knew these ladies were about to get a scolding of their lifetime.

“What do you think you’re doing?” You spat. “Nothing! Who are you?” Said one, her hands on her hips, accusing you of being the culprit. You scrunched your nose, “I’m his parent.” The woman’s eyes grow wide. “So I’m asking you again, what were you doing?” “We were only worried about the fact that he was alone!!” Said the other, but it’s clear that it was just a petty excuse.

“Really?” “Yes, really!!” Then, Sora shouted, “They were asking about Daddy!” You looked at him in surprise. “What?” He nods, “They said mean things like how he ruined Uncle Aether and everyone!” Sora points at them, “They said Daddy was a bad singer! That he’s poor! We’re not poor! They said I was going to grow up to be lazy like him!!!”

Your eye twitched, blocking out the dumb statements those women were saying to defend themselves. There was no doubt that many fans were disappointed with the group's disbanding, painting the blame on Scaramouche and you too. However, you didn’t give a damn about the crap thrown at you. No one badmouths your husband, let alone says all of that to his 5-year-old son, who was trying to have a good time with his friends.

Your hand made a fist. “I advise you both to apologize right now.” Then, one of them said something that really struck. “He’s twisting our words! There’s no way you believe him!!” It was so fast that once she finished, her face was already turned to the other side.

Her friend gasps, seeing the red mark beginning to show on the girl's cheek. Sora looks at you with marveled eyes as you glare at the grown women. “Don’t even think about criticizing my own child, or I will rip your teeth out.” They try to say something, but you cut them off. “That’s my husband you’re making fun of, and I don’t think Aether and the rest would be very happy knowing their ‘fans’ are tormenting a little kid.”

Then, the girls flee, looking back occasionally to see you still glaring. Once out of sight, you begin to sigh and kneel down to hug your son. “Oh, Sora! I was so worried! Are you okay?!” You cup his face, checking to see if they did even more damage. He shook his head. “Yeah, I’m sorry for running off…” You plant a kiss on his forehead. “I couldn’t care less about that right now. I’m so glad you’re safe.” You hug him again, and he hugs back too.

“Let’s go back to the others.” You say, standing up and holding his hand, but he wouldn’t budge. “Sora?” He pouts a little. “Um…I want to say something, but what if you get mad?” You frowned and kneeled down again. “I won’t be mad.” “Are you sure?” You nod, “I’m sure.” After giving him a big smile, he starts swaying side to side. “Back then, when we were eating, that boy stole some of my lunch.” You furrowed your brows. “What?” “I told him to stop, but his mom was saying that sharing is caring! But I said no!”

He puffs up his cheeks. “You said to always say no to things that’ll make you queasy!” You nod, “I did say that.” “So, I hit him!” You giggle, “I see.” It feels like today these adults were testing your patience. “Let’s go talk some sense to them.” Sora grins, “Okay!” You stand back up and walk to the rest of the group.

The teacher comes running to you guys in worry. “Where were you two?! We were about to start searching!” You bow slightly. “Sorry. Sora and I got a little distracted.” You explain. She lets out a sigh. “Well, as long as you’re okay, then it’s no trouble. We’re about to leave now.”

You nod, then notice that mother that scolded your son. “Excuse me.” You tell the teacher, still holding onto Sora's hand, and you walk towards the mother. She notices your presence and then stares with a disapproving look. “You ought to control your boy. It’s no good wandering off like that.” You squint, “Listen, I don’t need to be told on how to parent.” “It seems you do.”

Your eye twitches. “From my understanding, you need to be taught more than me.” She gasps, “I’m sorry?” “Yes. Sora tells me you pushed your son to keep pestering him even though he said no.” She plants her hands on her hips. “Well, you need to learn to let your son be open.” You mimic her pose. “And you need to learn people’s boundaries.”

You both glare at each other, and then the teacher comes in between. “Please, no fighting. The children are watching!!” “She’s right.” The woman explains. “You’re acting like a—“ “Child?” You tilt your head. “I’m simply acting what a normal parent should act when their son has been wrongly accused of being the bully all because he didn’t share! The reason Sora hit your kid was because you allowed him to keep pushing his buttons just so you could satisfy yourself by thinking you’re a good mom for letting your boy get more snacks when he could’ve simply asked someone else!”

Sora nods while raising a fist. “Yeah!” His friends copy his moves and cheer. “Yeah!!! Go, Sora's parent!!!” The teacher scolds the children before turning back to you all. “If this escalates—“ “Don’t worry.” You say. “I’m done. I don’t have time to deal with incompetent adults.” The mother gasps and you walked to the bus, feeling proud.

“That was so cool!” Sora says once you’ve sat down. You blush, “Thank you.” Then you remembered you had to notify Scaramouche about you finding your son.

“I’m going to call Daddy and say we’re on our way.” He nods, “Okay!”

During the time you were searching for Sora, Scaramouche thought about how to apologize to Ren.

He felt like saying sorry wasn’t enough. With his head in his hands, he beat himself up in his brain on how he should just die in a ditch for what he’s done. He even thinks that if only time travel were real, he could’ve prevented blowing up on his youngest.

Scaramouche gets up and leaves his room. He decided he’ll make a snack for Ren. After all that crying, there’s no doubt he’s hungry. He got that from his dad, after all. He glanced at Ren's door with a frown before going down to the kitchen.

Ren isn’t a picky eater. He’ll eat anything as long as he’s fed or if they’re in cute shapes. He especially loved when his fruits were cut up to make a star. Scaramouche smiles fondly at that fact and begins preparing.

There’s no doubt that knowing Sora is missing prevents him from staying focused, but he tries to push through. ‘Sora will be fine.’ He thinks. ‘Nothing bad is going to happen.’ Scaramouche lets out a shaky breath. “Focus,” he tells himself. He can’t allow himself to get cut because of his carelessness.

But it’s Sora, his first son. It’d be a horrible day if he finds out your spouse couldn’t find him along with Ren never forgiving him.

He shakes his head. ‘Don’t think that way.’

Scaramouche decides to put on some music for a distraction, so he gets out his phone and decides he’ll listen to his own music. It’s been so long that he couldn’t help but cringe at how he sounded back then. Scaramouche hums along, almost like a reflex.

Scaramouche decides to make some sandwiches along with cute-shaped fruits. That’s not all; he’ll cut the sandwiches into hearts, and the fruits, mangos and strawberries, will be stars.

Scaramouche sways to the music and turns behind him. He’d imagine you joining his dance, bumping your hip into his. You’d laugh, and then you’d both hear small footsteps making their way. Sora would grab onto your hands, jumping up and down, pulling you into the middle of the room. Both of you dancing to the music while singing along. Ren would stay by Scaramouche’s legs, watching his parent and brother dance in amazement.

Scaramouche would pick up Ren, earning a laugh out of him, twirling around, and you’d copy his idea. You’d start spinning with Sora, and you’d both clash, laughing even harder.

In the end, Scaramouche would go to kiss you because he’s the happiest man on earth.

Scaramouche sighs, knowing that he fucked up. He glances at the family photo that hangs on the wall in the living room. It was a family photo of when Ren was just a baby. He can’t help but wonder if he deserved all of this.

Scaramouche shakes his head once more and turns back around, finishing up the dish. It really didn’t take long, and he was kind of proud of himself. Of course it didn’t beat your level of cooking, but it’s not bad.

He turns to go to the pantry but stops when he sees Ren's face poking out from the hall. Startled, the boy runs off, and Scaramouche follows. That kid is so fast, though, that Scaramouche frowns when hearing the door slam close.

He goes back to what he was doing and grabs a juice box before walking back to the kitchen. He rips out the straw and punches it into the hole. Scaramouche grabs the plate and juice, then turns forward and jumps, seeing Ren back at his spot.

“Ren!” He says. “You scared me.” He notices his son’s eyes get watery, slowly coming out to stand in front of him, clutching his bunny plushie that Albedo had made for him. Scaramouche places everything back before slowly kneeling to his height. “Ren…” Suddenly the poor boy bursts into tears and runs to hug his father. “Daddy, I’m sorry!” He hiccups, smearing his snot and tears all over his shirt.

“Ren—“ “I don’t hate you!!” He sniffles, and Scaramouche almost immediately feels himself start to cry too. “Ren, don’t say sorry.” He says calmly. He kisses his head while combing his hair. “I’m the one who should be apologizing. It wasn’t nice of me to say all those things to you.”

Ren looks at him with puppy dog eyes. “Are you sure?” The tears flow down Scaramouche’s face. Nothing hurts more than seeing your own child cry. Scaramouche smiles softly, “I’m sure.” He cups his face. “I was wrong. I shouldn’t have yelled at you, and I didn’t mean to make you cry.” He kisses his forehead. “I love you so much. I don’t want you to hate me, and I don’t want you to think that I hate you.”

Ren continues to cry, and Scaramouche hugs him tightly. “I love you, Ren.” Ren hugs him back. “I love you too, Daddy. I’m sorry that I’m not like everyone else.” Scaramouche chuckles, “Don’t say that. To me, you’re perfect.”

Scaramouche looks down at him, and Ren’s head pokes out from his arms, staring at his dad. They smile at each other, with Scaramouche moving his hair away from his face before kissing his cheek. He begins to pet his hair. “Are you hungry?” He asks, and the boy nods.

He carries him with one arm while he walks to grab the food. Then, he walks to the dining table and places the food down. He hands a sandwich to Ren, who gladly begins to eat it. “Is it good?” Ren nods with puffed cheeks. Scaramouche smiles more. “Thank goodness. Is it better than M/D?” Ren stares at him before looking at his sandwich, then back at his dad, and simply takes another bite.

Scaramouche sighs, “I figured.” Ren continues to eat while Scaramouche hands him an occasional fruit. “Star.” Ren points out, and Scaramouche nods, “Yeah, star!” Ren nibbles each end and bites one after the other. “Are you thirsty?” Ren nods, and Scaramouche goes to the counter and hands him his juice box.

Ren takes a sip, then takes another bite, then another sip. “Don’t you want to sit down?” Ren shakes his head. “It’s comfy here.” Scaramouche laughs, “Okay.”

With both journeys coming to an end, there was nothing more than wanting to hit the hay.

Once Ren finished eating, the two sat on the couch watching a movie. And as it was about to end, you and Sora had walked in the home. “We’re home.” You say, but you didn’t get a response. You notice your husband’s head poking out from behind the couch and walk towards him after locking the door.

Sora follows and then points with a giggle. “Daddy’s sleeping.” He whispers. You giggle too, “I can see that.” Scaramouche had his head resting on his fist while his other arm wrapped around Ren, who was also fast asleep on his leg, hugging his stuffed animal tightly.

“I’m sleepy too.” Sora says and begins to climb onto Scaramouche’s lap. You sigh and place your things on the kitchen table, noticing a plate of crumbs. You smiled and then headed back, squealing at the cuteness happening in front of you.

You sneakily take a picture and send it to Aether and Lumine right away in the group chat. Lumine responded with, “I knew he was the one who gave birth.” You snort and type a response back. You see Aether’s text bubble, and he sends a picture of Xia sleeping on top of Xiao’s chest.

You say, “Are we racing right now?” And Aether responds with, “Maybe.” You roll your eyes and put your phone away before scooping up Ren and taking over his spot. He snuggles to your chest, not waking up at all.

You smile and feel yourself get pulled to your husband's body. You look up, “I thought you were asleep.” “I was.” Scaramouche mumbles, opening an eye to look at you. He begins to caress your arm. “You make a lot of noise.” You pout, “Rude.” However, you go and kiss him, trying not to disturb the boys.

“Sora fell asleep fast.” You comment, looking down at him curled into a ball. Scaramouche hums, petting his son’s hair. “He had a long day.” You nod, “So did I.” You let out a sigh, nuzzling your cheek on his shoulder. “I’m probably not able to chaperone anymore.” Scaramouche raises a brow. “What? Why?”

“Um…I’ll tell you later…” Scaramouche glared at you. “Yn, what did you do?” You frowned. “Hey, all I’ll say is, no one messes with my family.” Scaramouche sighs and then pinches your nose. “Ow!” You squeak. “You’re an idiot.” You roll your eyes. You feel Ren moving in your arms again, so you stay still and rub his back.

“I see everything worked out between you two.” Scaramouche nods, “Yeah.” You smiled, “I told you he loves you.” Scaramouche smiles, “Yeah.” Scaramouche kisses the top of your head. “And I love you.” You blush, “You’re lucky I can’t move right now.” He chuckles, resting his head on yours.

“But I love you too.” You say gently. “I love all of you.” “Me too.”

So, you both closed your eyes, letting yourselves finally relax in the comfort of each other’s arms, your home.

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aestheticitii · 2 years ago

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so i was going through book 6, in search of ash and embla crumbs, but found this:

Askr: Long ago, Embla and I both granted our power to mortals so that they might use those powers to flourish. We selected different peoples. I chose those born in what is now called Askr. She, of course, chose those born in what is now Embla... And for a time, the two peoples lived separately from each other, and they were content. Bruno: Then...why? Askr: It all started with a simple misunderstanding. Some of the Emblian people came to Askr. They were attracted by the way open exchange was valued there. This, however...enraged Embla. Bruno: ... Askr: She believed those people chose to desert her in favor Askr, and she could not forgive that. Her people, of course, had no such feelings... But she refused to believe anything they said. Embla forbade her people to leave to other worlds. Anyone who did not obey was punished, severely. The people grew to fear Embla, and the number that fled from her only grew... Bruno: ...Naturally. Askr: I know she was deeply hurt, and that hurt only grew deeper... Everyone left her, and she was completely alone... I cannot begin to imagine her pain. I offered to help her, but she met me with hatred and refused. There was nothing I could do. In the end, Embla used her power to completely close off her world. That way, those people who were still with her would no longer have even the possibility of leaving. Then she took control of their very hearts and turned them to her will so there was no chance of betrayal...

so according to askr, the timeline is:

emblians come to askr -> embla overreacts and overcorrects -> askr tries to get her to stand down -> she starts harming mortals

but according to the flashbacks we see from embla, the timeline is:

embla gives aid to the emblians -> one of them attacks her all of a sudden, giving her the shock of her life -> she goes to askr to convince him to step away but he refuses -> she goes beserk

both of them could be entirely unreliable on what actually went down. because embla's flashbacks are basically some of the most important moments in her life, while askr has always been inclined to give mortals the benefit of the doubt.

(of course, it could just be a last minute addition)

but when exactly does embla's scare with death happen?

because it could completely change the context of why she did those things

option 1: if they went to askr first, they saw how askr had open exchange, one mortal attacked embla because she got mad or maybe just because they felt cheated, she forbade them all from leaving, things escalated option 2: a mortal attacked her first, then some folks went to askr, which prompted embla to forbid them from potentially causing harm to askr option 3: they went askr, she did actually overreact and forbid them from going, then one mortal tried to kill her, and then she overreacted even more

but like idk if it's just me, but i feel like reaction no. 3 is kind of weird. elm's wording is pretty strange. sure he's an unreliable narrator who hates mortals, but he also explicitly tells her that they'll hate her if she starts killing them, as if they don't hate her right now

so they didn't hate her then?

this is his line:

Elm: But if you kill them, the mortals are sure to spread rumors about you, to sow fear and vile intent... Even those who now love you dearly will retreat from you... If you would, please reconsider, Lady Embla.

like, what does that mean?? because askr seems to think that her punishments drove them all away, but if we believe elm at face value, this is before that. like he's sort of saying, the ones who are innately cruel and/or don't care for embla as much will sow fear, until even her most devoted mortals will leave her?

so if we believe elm. then her shutting down the border is in active response to the incident?

and did she tell askr what happened exactly? because embla in the english version never says that a mortal tried to kill her. only that they'll betray him, even though he puts in so much energy for them. and in jp, she uses the word for betrayal/double-crossing but i'm not sure if it has connotations of death.

so did askr think she was just being her gloomy self?

especially considering she wasn't very enthused about helping them and only really did it because of askr.

and embla implicitly says that her motivation is to ensure that askr is safe. that he doesn't end up betrayed. and she only sets it into motion after askr refuses her, and it doesn't seem to be prompted by a desire to keep them by her side.

Embla: So, this is the true face of these mortal beasts... Of course it is. There will be those who come for Askr's life as well... They will betray the trust he places in them so blindly. And this is all the proof I need. Elm: Right you are. But even so... Embla: ...I must kill them.

like does that look like the thought process of a yandere (for mortals) to you? if anything, she's lowkey yan for askr.

(only lowkey, because i'm sure self-preservation plays a role as well)

and clearly, the part about her killing them and askr confronting her for it has to be the "punishment" for trying to leave and him offering to help her, but her "meeting him with hatred."

could it be that he simply assumed the betrayal was them approaching him, when it was actually the murder attempt? and that when she was talking about him being betrayed, she was saying they'd turn their back on him and be ungrateful? especially since that sounds like something she'd say

plus, this is a very weird reaction for someone who wants to kill mortals because of her fear that they'll betray askr as well and hurt her again

Enough, enough, ENOUGH! Get out from my sight! If the mortals love you so, then so be it! They detest me. May they all seek your company and be happy—and leave me alone. Wretched! All of you!

elm told her this would happen, so why is she surprised? this feels kind of different from when she knew how askr would act and was still in disbelief that he let himself die.

like, maybe i'm digging too much into this, but could it be that the fact that askr starts of the conversation worried about mortals sets her off? she even tells him off for calling their lives precious.

i don't doubt that askr was right on the money about her still caring about mortals. i also don't doubt that he was genuinely concerned about her as well.

and i don't hold it against him, but it feels like that wasn't what she needed to hear, which is why she spiraled further.

the whole problem was that embla was at a point that she felt she could only trust her kind (elm and askr), but askr was consistently betraying her expectations in favor of mortals

like, i suspect the only reason she brings up the mortals leaving her is because askr's convinced that her attachment issues to them are the problem.

it's a mix of the fact that she was attacked first, that they all go to askr when they could pose a threat to him, which freaks her out, and askr's continued insistence on trusting them.

(i do, however, think that this line from her playable self does actually refer to mortals.

The mortals chose Askr. All of them. Over me...

though it does seem out of place, there's just no way to finagle that as her actually talking about askr. i think this is just a result of her having had centuries to mull the events over in her head.

and i say out of place because she also says this:

Mortals once loved me as they do Askr… I had no choice.

so like she knows she drove them off, but she still says the prior line? which further plays into the idea of her wanting protect herself and protect askr?

honestly, the first line might just be in reference to the fact that no one stopped to try and figure out why she was going beserk when she'd been a perfectly benevolent person before then and just ran to askr.

they basically discarded her, which makes sense because it's very much like when you go to dad when mom's mad, but embla just didn't see it that way because she also holds a grudge against them and so paints them in a terrible light and refuses to empathize with them.

because again, if we believe elm, everything was fine and dandy up to that point and he was able to manipulate letizia, so i have some faith in his words)

because i genuinely don't think askr would gloss over a murder attempt in the way he gently refutes her concern. like it's certainly possible a mortal could get a fatal hit in on her or injure her gravely. i think he'd take that much more seriously, which further makes me think he just had no idea

in conclusion: miscommunication just doomed two entire kingdoms

#feh #fire emblem heroes #feh embla #feh askr #emblaskr #feh elm #i just really wanted to get my thought on these two on paper #and consolidate the timeline #i didn't remember that askr actually provided his version of the events as well #and i think it's very tragic that it is very much possible that askr in that moment #just didn't realize how grave the situation actually was because embla never specified #and that he has the wrong impression of what upset her to begin with #so his approach when she goes beserk is just flat out wrong #and that just makes things worse #on the bright side #i appreciate that he always mentions that he wishes they could #be as they once were

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lazylittledragon · 1 month ago

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so uhhhhhhhh. not to be cryptic and bitchy on main but congratulations to everyone in my messages for like 5 months on being right i guess

#ramble #ughhhhhhhhhhhh ok so #i will delete this later bc idk if this person has tumblr and i genuinely mean no ill will i just need an outside opinion #i vented about it on my close friends story already but i need like. a neutral party #i won't say their name but if you're on other socials you probably know who it is #basically for a while i've been getting messages saying 'this person has hacked your art style' or 'is REDACTED your alt account'#and in the beginning there were like. similarities? but nothing i could really claim and also i don't want to accuse someone of theft #like i don't own any stylistic choices or anything. i've used things from other artists i like. honestly it's kind of flattering #and we are actually really friendly in DMs now and we even joke about it. we message eachother any time we get a comment about it #i made a joke literally 2 weeks ago about how we're two different people i swear #but after adding some Very specific things to my art (like the paper texture/hatching/shiny lighting). they also added them #and i gave them the benefit of the doubt bc i don't like to believe anyone has bad intent with stuff like that. and i've done the same obvs #but recently they dropped some tav lore and it was. basically a panel for panel copy of one of my cyra comics down to the HAND PLACEMENT #and obviously i don't own the Bitch Mother trope or anything but it's just. mmmmm it makes me feel weird #idk it just feels like it's gone a bit far now and i'm not sure what to do about it #like you would think after we became moots they would get scared and stop but i think i was too openly trusting and they just kept going #recently someone on THEIR PATREON thought they were me and they weren't even one of mine (which by itself is funny but. y'know)#i don't want to call anyone out or upset anyone bc it only causes more problems but like. i Know. and idk if they should know that i know #maybe i'm just stupid idk i really trusted that it wasn't happening but it is and i don't know how to feel #hONESTLY I'M JUST MAD THAT I CAN'T DO ANY MORE CYRA LORE NOW BC PEOPLE ARE GOING TO ACCUSE **ME**#also PLEASE do not witch hunt this person i want to deal with this as quietly as possible #i really felt like i was in the twilight zone or just being paranoid so i had to ask

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barley-st-band · 1 year ago

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hey does anyone know how we’re supposed to survive it all. asking for a friend

#she speaks #oh gang we’re really in it now #i don’t think i’ve ever felt this bad this deeply in my whole life lol #the burnout just keeps accumulating past any point i thought it could reach #and i can’t even pretend at work anymore #i’m so tired and these kids are so infuriating and it builds and builds every time they do something shitty #and i love them and it’s not their fault they’re just kids and they’re tired and it’s almost summer #but god i can’t fucking do it anymore #how exactly am i supposed to survive the next two weeks #the class i’m taking is too confusing and too fast paced #and i didn’t buy the textbook bc it’s 200 fucking dollars #and our apartment is always a mess #and i can’t keep up with friendships and feel like i’m constantly letting them down #and there’s nothing i can do to fix any of it #until the school year is over #bc at this point it takes everything i have just to get up and go to work in the mornings #but then i still have to somehow find energy to do other stuff too. and like actually teach.#i have to grade and do report cards and return materials and clean up my classroom #i need to complete a checklist the size of a novel before i leave for the summer #i need to keep the kids engaged but none of us want to be here #i need to start organizing to make next year easier #i need to fill out paperwork and spreadsheets and update my password and find time to feed myself and grade more papers and #vacuum the floors and scoop litter and clean up clutter and do dishes and wipe down counters #and i haven’t been able to fucking do any of it in months and left so many chores to my poor partner who’s also going through it #bc i have nothing left and i don’t know what to do!! i want to scream every minute of every day bc i’m so beyond overwhelmed the moment #i wake up in the morning but i don’t have time for a meltdown so i just keep going!!#i wish i had better words to explain how bad it’s gotten but the brain fog has gotten so so bad #i can barely think i can’t make decisions my memory and recall have gotten so much worse #i take my anxiety meds so often that they’ve stopped working #and yet i still worry that i’m making it up and being dramatic. anyway sorry about all this lol

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resident-rats · 10 months ago

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Actually might just go insane?? Going insane full time jobs? Losing my mind hiring? Google search.

#a friend who I kinda lost touch with messaged me asking to meet up #which was cool and all #but they were like let’s go to this bar #and I said okay 🤡🤡#AND LIKE idk on paper it’s pretty insignificant #but I’ve been having pretty bad issues with leaving the house and being in unfamiliar spaces recently lol #last time I was in an unfamiliar space by myself I had a really bad panic attack to the point where I thought I was having a heart attack 🥴#anyway I’m meeting them tomorrow #and it’s hhhh bc ofc I want to see my friend #but if I have a panic attack in a bar surrounded by lots of people I think I’d not recover from that ever jfhdjfhx #idk guess I just gotta deal with it lol bc no way am I outing myself as a wreck to #someone I’ve not seen in like two years lolll #get well soon @ me #personal #also ignore this I’m just venting lol

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dazeymazey · 1 year ago

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[ id: a comic featuring three object-head characters - Chip, who is tall & dark-skinned with a cardboard box head, Aloe, who is shorter and curvy with light brown skin & a lava lamp head, and Petra, who is tall and fat with brown skin and a cactus head. a golf ball is struck by a club, and lands straight into the water. the three of them stand in silence in the direction of the ball, Petra in the foreground with a wide-eyed expression. Aloe says "Wow. That's the seventh ball you've drowned." Petra scratches their face and says, "Seven, huh.. too bad that's not the name of the game." Aloe jokes "You'd be a pro by now." and Chip chimes in, signing "Totally unmatched." with a smile. Off-screen, Petra light-heartedly responds "Stooop!". end id ]

#my ocs #oc comic #object head #Aloe #Chip #Petra #sorry that all i draw is these guys. its just that im completly obsessed with them they are constantly rotating in my brain #there is a lil story (read: idea thats probably never gonna actually get down on paper)but i didnt feel like drawing all of it out (for now #Aloe wins a wins passes to a mini golf course as a door prize from an event she attended & asks Petra if they want to go w/them #neither of them really play golf but she insists itll be fun. Petra invites Chip along too & spends the resr of the night watching vids-#-and trying to learn techniques (trying to impress Chip)#turns out that Chip is actually a natural & is killing it on the course #they all have a good time! they get milkshakes & fries later on. those two are lowkey flirting w each other the whole day btw.#obligatory i hate golf disclaimer lol i just thought the scene would be fun

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tarantula-hawk-wasp · 2 years ago

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i was really focused and did actual work for one hour from 10am-11am and then made one phone call and lost all focus for 5 hours

#i want to get this paper done so badly i will do anything but work on it #mostly its like sources have been so hard to find so im hesistant to start writing bc i dont have a solid foundation #and the two physical books i thought the library would have ready by now but they dont and then theres a bunch of e books I have partial ac #access to but not the full book AND even when sources do mention metalworking tools they don't go in depth #bc those tools havent really changed in millennia so the techniques and alloys are focused on #but my paper is on etruscan artisan's tools so i need to read about the shape of fire tongs or the design of hammers etc #like it is going okay it is just hard and i dont wanna

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tonycries · 11 months ago

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The Way You Kiss Me - G.S.

Synopsis. The four times Satoru tries really hard not to kiss you - his best friend’s pretty younger sister. And the one time he doesn’t.

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! Suguru’s sister! reader, childhood enemies to lovers, PINING Satoru, like really really disgustingly down bad, creampíe, oral (fem receiving), pússytalking, needy JEALOUS! Satoru, running away from it, spítting, punching is Suguru’s love language, mentions of aIcohol, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 7.4k (That’s wild)

A/N. BOO! Surprise upload. This was so fun to write omg.

“You sure this is how the grown-ups get married?”

“Duh, I know everything.”

“Nuh uh, Toru.”

“Yuh uh!”

The first time Gojo Satoru kissed you was underneath that dingy playground slide that the two of you always raced to after elementary school.

Usually, your older brother, Suguru, would walk home alongside you two - but this time, he’d just so happened to have been held back for throwing paper planes at the teacher that day.

A sign from the universe, Satoru internally celebrated, something he’d learned from those sappy romance novels his mother left lying around the house. No matter that he was the one that made those planes.

You were six back then, standing in front of a determined Satoru - reaching up on his tip-toes, face pink, smelling of those cheap strawberry lollipops he’d sneak into class and taunt you with. At the much older and wiser age of seven, he’d insisted on being the first one to lean in.

Just barely even grazing your dramatically puckered lips before-

Satoru learned two things that fateful afternoon:

Even as a seven-year-old, Suguru’s punches really hurt.

Never mess with you. Anyone but you.

Life only seemed to go downhill from there - because that last lesson was proving to be hard along the years. Really. Fucking. Hard.

Little did Satoru know that this would be the start of some strange, unpredictable little dance of push and pull. No, you definitely weren’t his wife. Nor were you exactly best friends - not really, that spot was reserved for your brother. But you didn’t think you could ever be just that either.

And the punch that’d knocked his wobbly tooth out onto the playground floor that day was a painful reminder that whatever that was - whatever weird thoughts he had later in middle school about how you’d tasted like candy - didn’t matter. No matter how part some tucked-away little part of him wanted it to.

Hell, eleven years later and Satoru still can’t walk around that familiar block without feeling slightly queasy. Which is why, after that failed first kiss, he knew there wouldn’t be a second.

Instead, he settles back to teasing your pouty self, pushing all your buttons, tugging on those cute dresses you wore. Face burning so strangely with- humiliation? when you bickered right back, calling his haircut a “tragic attempt at modern art.”

“So you’re saying I look like art?” A gangly, now-seventeen Satoru blocks the bustling high school hallway, ignoring the bell. Grin only growing at your frustrated huff, he half-jokes, “Aww, if you’re that soft on me, sweetheart, maybe we should go to prom tog-”

You slam your locker, effectively shutting both it and Satoru at the same time. “I’d rather go with Yaga.”

“...you would not.”

“Would to.”

“Would not.”

“Would to.”

“Would- Sugu–!”

And all Suguru can do is wrap two hands around his neck, mock-choking himself, wondering if it was really too late to embrace a quiet life as a monk. “You’ll both be MLA cited in my farewell note.”

He was used to it, though, forced to watch all this chaos since quickly mending his friendship with Satoru over ice cream the day after the punch. Convinced that this was some punishment for a past life’s misdeed.

With a squawk of protest, Satoru’s turning back to you, eyes crinkling with a hint of mischief you knew too well, “Would not.”

Your face burns, “Would to, Toru.”

You didn’t go with Yaga. but Satoru didn’t exactly count that as a win in his books, either, because you did show up that night hanging off the arm of some jerk from the football team.

And there you were, all dolled up - which he very objectively noted - way too prettily for some bastard like him. Stars in your eyes, and everything he couldn’t have in that smile.

Everything.

Way too gorgeous, even when he finds you sitting outside the gymnasium later on in the night. Too busy bawling your mascara off to even throw out your usual greeting insult his way. Murmuring out wetly about “that asshole” and how he humiliated you by stranding you in the middle of the dance floor for someone else.

“Well, he was a jerk anyway. Even Yaga would’ve been better, hell, I-” Satoru stops short to his horror at the way you only cry harder.

Way too irresistible, especially as his body moves before his mind - holding out an open hand before he knows it. “I’m a much better dancer than him and you.” And oh Satoru will forever remember the way his heart lurches as you blink your teary eyes up in confusion, “Well, aren’t ya gonna take up the challenge?”

Weirdly, it wasn’t weird at all.

If anything, you had to hold back your laughter the entire time at the way the great “campus sweetheart” Gojo Satoru was so on edge.

Just a friend comforting a friend, right?

So why was he avoiding your gaze with the subtlety of a sledgehammer, summer blue eyes pointedly trained right over your head. That pretty pink blush dusting his cheeks reflecting the hands hovering in midair over your waist. So close - and yet, fear in each and every turn and swirl.

Yours were searing into his broad shoulders as you tried to guide him to the muffled music from inside. And shit.

That night ended with a second kiss.

You don’t know who leaned in first, just that Satoru’s soft lips were just fleeting on your glossy ones - barely even a touch. And that shit shit shit- this was Satoru. This was you.

Everything.

But it seems that every time Satoru was about to kiss you dangerously close to the way some tiny, forbidden part of his heart wanted to - the universe throws an obstacle at him. An obstacle that was six feet and named “Suguru”, currently running at break-neck speed out of the gym.

“MOVE YOUR ASSES!” he cackles, “THE FOOTBALL TEAM ISN’T TOO HAPPY ABOUT ME BREAKING THEIR STAR PLAYER’S NOSE.”

And not a word is uttered about the kiss as the three of you speed out of the school parking lot in Suguru’s busted-up black hellcat, the wind mussing up the hairstyle that took Satoru over two hours to perfect. Sneaking in glances at the sight of you singing along at the top of your lungs to some overplayed pop song on the radio.

He learns another two things that night:

Apparently, Suguru’s right hook still really fucking hurt. And thank god for tonight’s casualties of noses, because it was a wonder that he didn’t look too hard at how close Satoru was with you.

He didn’t…dislike the feeling of your lips on his. And judging by the way you meet his eyes in the rearview mirror - you didn’t either.

It’s mainly that last one that makes him gulp.

Neither of you remember the third kiss - though, Satoru’s sure that at least 80% of Shoko’s instagram followers did.

According to a very hungover Shoko, and the many, many forms of documentation, it had happened on the New Year’s eve during your third year in university. In which you were much more used to the raging parties that would be hosted at Suguru’s apartment, and only slightly less intimidated by them.

“And you’re a lightweight too, dumbass. You were gone.” Shoko sighs from across the café table, eye bags deeper than the last time he’d seen her. “Like gone gone.”

God, what a way to start the year.

Satoru bites back a remark about how “gone” Shoko herself had been. Sitting up straight in his seat, regret immediately hitting his senses faster than the guilty throbbing at his temples. He winces, managing out a semi-disbelieving groan of, “Gone gone?”

And she’s only nodding wearily, subconsciously tapping out the rest of her cigarette ashes onto his untouched plate of sweet pastries.

“I’m talking dancing on expensive coffee tables and fighting to stop you from giving everyone there a strip show.” She cracks a smirk through a waft of smoke, “Though, she would’ve loved that I’m sure.”

“Har har har, you’d make even Nanami laugh with that one.”

“Eugh, gross.” Shoko taps through her phone briefly, swirling it around to show Satoru a few pictures that definitely gave him a mini-heart attack at 8:57 in the morning. “You look like you’re about to pen really bad poetry.”

And perhaps this was Shoko’s plan all along - to shock Satoru to the core hard enough that she can note it down as one of her sketchy psychological experiments.

But he knew. Could feel it in the hazy fragments of memories - or, at the very least, in that entire highlight that Nanamin had oh-so-conveniently put up on Instagram titled, “Blackmail.”

You knew.

You’d kissed him back.

“I don’t have a-.” you slur, stumbling ever-so-slightly as you try to meet Satoru’s glassy eyes. Because shit the years have had him shooting up faster than you could look up. “-a New Year’s kiss, y’know.”

You were older - more gorgeous, if that was even possible now. That tight dress hugging your body so unfairly in a way that had him forgetting you were his best friend’s sister.

The one person in this whole world that he couldn’t have.

But Satoru leans in closer, more because he wants to than anything - he could pick out your voice anywhere let alone over the thumping music currently filling his crowded living room. Lips loose as he tries to play up the cool-guy facade he’s been dubbed with since freshman year, “Hah, loser. Because I do.”

“Where?”

At this, Satoru is stumped - damn, you were good.

“Not- uh here?” If he was in any clearer state of mind, he’d have been embarrassed at the way his voice cracks so traitorously as your unsteady hands pull him in closer by his overpriced button-up.

Your body was flush against his now, so addictive. Gaze half-lidded and flickering between the sliver of milky skin exposed on his chest - from that impromptu striptease he’d almost started earlier - and the blue eyes that were currently locked you. You whisper a strained, “Liar.”

Close - too close. So dangerously close.

He breathes out against your lips, the smell of booze and you so heady in his mind. And the heavy words falling from his lips sound like lies, even to him. “Not.”

“Toru?” you hum, a sound that has him gasping. “Shut up.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

And there went your New Year’s kisses. At exactly 11:37PM, if the photos were anything to go by.

And holy shit were there many. All of which showed your arms looped around Satoru’s neck, crashing his lips to yours. His own, resting against your waist, a scandalously red blush - whether from the alcohol or you - adorning his cheeks. Looking more blissed out than he ever remembers feeling.

“I’m a dead man, Shoko.”

There’s a lengthy silence, leaving Satoru stewing in thoughts of how Suguru would react once he finds out. And whether or not he’d be able to rise from the dead just to see how pretty you’d look at his funeral.

Morbid thoughts broken only by Shoko’s cough, “Hey, can I keep your eyes for experimentation if he actually catches you?”

Subtly, he sends himself those photos from last night.

Luckily for Satoru’s eyes, they never ended up being donated towards Shoko’s questionable contributions to the world of medicine.

And by some grace of the gods above, Suguru never mentioned a word about the kiss that would’ve inevitably made its way to him. Or maybe it was because Satoru stole his phone until he managed to pester Nanami just enough to take down that highlight. But, semantics.

His heart, however, might as well have been part of some experiment.

Because it’s been working overdrive since that night - mind reliving that moment over and over and over and- shit, he’s fucked. So, so fucked.

Fucked enough that it took Satoru months just to muster up to even look in your pretty eyes once more, unless he wanted to get lost in them forever. Fucked enough that he dared to wonder again and again when there might be a fourth kiss - if there would be a fourth kiss.

He just never thought it would happen the way it did - with you, standing outside his front door.

“I’m sorry, Toru.” you mumble, “It’s just- I think we both need to grow up.”

You’ve freshly graduated now, looking more and more irresistible each time he sees you - even when you’re looking at him like that.

Rolling his eyes, “Ha, is this another way of saying you want my secret to getting taller? Because the first thing is to-”

“I’m serious, Satoru.”

And oh how he wished you’d say something - anything - else right now. Call him anything but that. Maybe even throw an insult his way, tell him those new sunglasses look ugly, or about how you got that internship he would’ve died for.

Satoru manages to choke out a heavy, “I don’t understand.” But that uncomfortable coil of something curling at the pit of his stomach said otherwise. And it causes him to finally breathe out a hesitant, “Maybe you’re right.”

As if that was all the answer you needed, you’re stepping out of the front door. Slow, and deliberate like you were giving him another chance - a thousand more. Sighing out a defeated, “It’s been years.” It has. “And we’re just running in circles.” You have. “I’m starting to think this is just some game to you.” It wasn’t.

“Wait!” he grasps your hand - soft. The look in your eyes even softer as you turn around to face his desperate face. “Please, sweetheart.”

Satoru doesn’t even know what words he wants to say - let alone whether they’d come out of his heavy mouth.

So, instead, he’s crashing them into yours.

Brief. Fleeting. Like each one before this. Too addictive, too short, that he thinks he’s almost imagining it as you pull away gently, until he sees that look in your eyes.

“Toru, I have a date.”

The fourth kiss.

Satoru’s letting go of you like it burned - and, truly, it felt like some deep, dark part of him was burning down right now. “Great.” That should be hm that should be him that should be- “I’m…happy for you.”

And the last.

He fucked up.

He really, really fucked up.

That first date turned into a second. The second into a third. And unfortunately for Gojo, eventually, you were nearing your one-year anniversary with that asshat you’d met during the early days of your internship.

He’d seen the man himself once, briefly at another one of Suguru’s famous parties. Ducking out of sight before he could be introduced, yet long enough to know that he wasn’t as tall, or as handsome, or as absolutely fucking hilarious.

What did he have that Satoru didn’t?

The answer to that, Satoru’s reminded of every time he’s causing ruckus over at Suguru’s apartment, and sees you walking out of your room, tittering on the phone to none other than your boyfriend. So gorgeous. So not his.

You, that loser had you.

“If you sigh again I swear I’m shoving this popcorn up your a-”

“It’s a sad movie, Suguru!” he defends, draped across your couch at another one of those movie nights you loved to organize. As usual, there was the popcorn, the god-awful movie (if Satoru picks it), and the arguments. The only thing missing, however, was you. Ugh, something about an “anniversary” and a “seafood date”. Seriously, it’s not like you even enjoyed that new seafood restaurant in town, and he’s sure that bastard didn’t know-

“Satoru.” his best friend’s deadpan voice cuts through his little reverie. “We’re watching Mean Girls.”

And he’s barely even opening his mouth to snark back before-

SLAM!

Suguru pauses the movie almost immediately, turning to the direction of the front door. “Uh oh.”

And lo and behold - there was you in all your pissed off, beautiful glory. Throwing your keys on the table, your fiery glare passes over the two men as you stomp to your bedroom.

“Seafood wasn’t that good, sweetheart?” Satoru calls out behind you, eyes sweeping down your figure. Heart stuttering in his chest when you turn around with your fists clenched, lower lip wobbling in a way that Satoru would both kill whoever made you feel this way and die to be on the other side of those daggers in your eye.

Sniffing out an icy, “Fuck off, loser and loserette.”

Then in a whirlwind of rage, you’re gone - your bedroom door slamming only slightly more gently than you’d done with the front door. Leaving a deafening silence, and Satoru whining, “Why am I the loserette?”

“Deserved.” Suguru shrugs. Warily eyeing your door, as if it was about to pounce at any given second, “Let her cool down before you give her an aneurysm at least.” Unpausing the television, propping his feet back up, “S’enough having to deal with you on top of a boyfriend like that.”

And that has Satoru perking up in interest - both figuratively, and literally as he snatches the remote and pauses the movie. “Wait wait wait what-” Holding it way out of Suguru’s reach, “What do you mean a ‘boyfriend like that’?”

Scoffing, “Funny. Now give me back the remote.”

A beat of silence passes. One. Two.

Only then does it dawn on Suguru that this might just not be some strange prank to stroke Satoru’s ego, and he was actually more serious than he’d ever seen him. Damn.

“Bro, have you really never met the guy or something? He’s a complete tool. I don’t know what happened, but this breakup was a long time coming.”

Satoru blinks, feeling a red hot surge of anger. “What? Seriously? Why didn’t you do anything about it?”

“You think I didn’t try?” he sighs, running a hand through his hair at the other’s uncharacteristic silence. “Hah, and just imagine, the man was talking about marriage, too. As if.”

And suddenly, Satoru’s hit with an image of you walking down the aisle. Not something he was a stranger to, but it still takes him aback. The sway of the fabric beneath his fingers, your lips against his. Hell, in that split-second he even dreams up how Nanamin would be crying very reluctant tears of joy.

Everything. Everything that wasn’t his.

His fist tightens around the remote, until he could hear the cracking of plastic. Mind whirling with the thought of you and him and you. How he wished it was him and you. “I would’ve been better.”

Oh.

Shit.

“I- fuck this. Suguru, since elementary school I…”

And, well, Satoru’s so busy putting that extra physics seminar he took in university to work - trying to calculate the odds of surviving a jump out of this seven-storey window - that he almost misses Suguru’s low hum, a distant, almost barely-audible little interruption, “Well duh.”

“Hold on.” he’s snatching away the remote that had somehow slithered its way into the other’s hands once again. Ignoring his best friend’s croak of protests to pause in the middle of Regina George being hit by the bus - which, he felt was strangely enviable right now. “That was- what? YOU KNOW?”

“Huh? Even my parents know, the only one that doesn’t is her.”

“...”

Satoru didn’t know how Suguru seemed so calm, but he felt like he was about to spontaneously combust. Heart stuttering in his chest as he sideglances at your firmly shut door - like he was just waiting for you to jump out and tell him this was some elaborate prank.

Begging for you to come - it would’ve hurt less.

But you don’t.

Fuck.

And the only response he gets is a low whistle, before a phone is being shoved in his face - flashlight illuminating that crimson blush. “Damn, the great Gojo Satoru speechless? The groupchat is gonna love this, might even send it to my sister, y’know.”

He didn’t care - didn’t give a shit if this video made rounds to Gakuganji himself. Only one thought racing through his mind right now.

“But why aren’t you punching me like in elementary school?”

And Satoru knows he’s smart - intelligent even. Hell, he was the valedictorian, the youngest employee to claw their way up to being on the board of directors. But he’s never felt more stupid when Suguru breathes out a bewildered, “Dude. That was for blaming me for the paper planes.”

“Oh.”

Then the movie is unpaused.

---

The last time you kissed Gojo Satoru was at the doorstep to that overpriced penthouse of his, exactly a year ago today.

The last time you saw Gojo Satoru was just a few hours ago, lounging around your living room like he owned it. Honestly, he might as well have been part of the furniture at this point - like some expensive, fluffy couch. One that prattled on about your “dumbass boyfriend” and god-knows-what else to rile you up just for the fun of it.

Which is why it was odd to step out of your bedroom - eyes just a bit puffy, throat still tight - to a suspiciously quiet hallway.

The lights were turned off, nothing but the pouring rain sounding from outside, television paused on some rerun of The Princess Diaries. Damn, you told those idiots not to start that one without you.

“Sugu?” you call, finding his bedroom empty. “Thought tonight was movie night?” Padding across the empty apartment, contemplating whether or not to get your phone and call him when-

Ding!

Ah, there.

You roll your eyes as you head towards the front door, ready to give Suguru a piece of his mind for going out at this ungodly hour and forgetting his key. Seriously, what if you opened the door and he was hurt, or worse, or…

Satoru.

Speaking a mile a minute.

Satoru.

“-florist was closed and the store clerk looked at me like I was crazy but I got this for-” he pauses abruptly, as if realizing something with a jolt. “-you.”

“You- what-” you don’t know where to look - at the drenched, disheveled Satoru filling your doorframe - rain in his hair, curtaining his frantic eyes, drenching his snug t-shirt. Or at the obscenely large bouquet of cheap strawberry lollipops being placed gently into your arms.

What follows was an electric silence - and you have half the mind to tease Satoru for finally shutting the fuck up for once in his life.

But, no. Instead, you eye the way he stands stubbornly at the doorway, fists clenched, blue eyes locked so intensely on yours that it was like they burned.

Face flushed a familiar pretty pink that makes you realize that shit, he might be taller, voice deeper, broad shoulders tight against his t-shirt - but this was still the same boy that cried when you stole his favorite Digimon card in middle school. The same one that kissed you underneath a dingy slide, smelling of strawberry lollipops.

It’s the steady tap! tap! tap! of the water droplets from his hair that have you tearing your traitorous eyes from his see-through white t-shirt.

Guess you’ve both done some growing up since then.

“You loser.”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

The pink wrapping of the bouquet rustles as your grip tightens. “He proposed to me today, y’know.” and yet, your quiet, even voice was the only thing ringing in Satoru’s ears. He jolts, as if some visceral, primal part of himself had been poked awake. Breathing heavy, fists clenching until he could feel the neat indents of his fingernails on his palm. Of course. He’s late. He’s late he’s late he’s late-

That is, until you’re plowing on, “I said no.”

“Huh?”

You think back to the stuffy restaurant, the man sitting from across from you - how wrong it felt. And all it took were those four words for you to realize that. “I said no.”

Satoru snaps his head up, stepping close - so close. Voice strained like he wasn’t asking - begging. Praying, “Why?”

“We…” you raise a brow at the way Satoru flinches as you trail off. So desperate. A smirk makes its way onto your face, “...we haven’t divorced yet, right?”

And then you’re kissing him - or maybe he’s kissing you.

Fuck, you don’t know - nor do you really care right now. Not when Satoru’s got his lips crashing against yours for the fifth time in your life, kissing you like it would be the last. Big arms dipping down to your waist, pulling you so tight against his muscled frame that he had half the mind to wonder whether it hurt.

“Love this. Love the way you kiss me- fuck-” he’s spitting against your lips, kicking the door shut behind him. “Oh- would ya get mad if I-” he tries to get out through kisses. Only to suck on your pretty lips with a pained grunt. “If I-” Again and again, like it killed him to part. “-hah- celebrated right now?”

“Yes.” You’re letting the bouquet fall to the foor, white-knuckling that useless, drenched excuse of a shirt. “Now kiss me properly, Toru.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Such a sloppy mix of teeth and hands and him. Shoving a knee between your legs, making up for years and years of late nights with nothing but his fist and the pretty thought of you.

“Yeah, that’s it, sweetheart.” Satoru breathes out, as your urgent fingers that dispose of his shirt, feeling the gorgeous dips and curves of years of hard work to impress you. “Suck on m’tongue pretty- fuck-” His own fisting your shirt, pulling. Ripping.

“Toru!”

“I want you.” He’s letting the poor, tattered pieces drop in a pile on the floor, trailing a hand between your damp thighs before he can stop himself. “Oh how I’ve wanted you. And I don’t care if I have to buy fifty new outfits to make up for it.”

And it’s the feeling of his long index stroking up your sopping slit through your shorts that has you pulling away with a gasp. Delicate little strings of saliva snapping from Satoru’s kiss-bitten lips. “If we continue like this…” your voice wavers as he presses hot kisses along your collarbone. “-my brother’s gonna walk in.”

“...wouldn’t wanna relive that playground kiss, huh?”

It’s all he says before picking you up so easily, hands resting on your ass. Giving a playful spank ass you wrap your legs around his toned waist.

And it’s sloppy.

Both his lips still hotly on yours and the way he’s stumbling urgently to your room through pure muscle memory. Pulling away only when you’re all splayed out so prettily for him on your mattress.

“Blue?” he breathes, pulling your shorts off. And it comes out strained - like the very sight of your panties - all soaked and flimsy with your slick - has whatever’s remaining of Satoru’s sanity flying out the window. “Blue? Oh, you’ve gotta have planned this, you little minx.” his hot breath hits your cunt as he shifts down the bed, tongue drawing languid, wet little circles on your inner thigh. “Because don’t tell me this was all for him?”

It was coincidence - or maybe fate - but that doesn’t stop you from giving Satoru a slow, teasing nod. Muttering out, “So what if it was?”

The only answer you get is thumb hooked around your shorts, pulling it just enough so that your brother’s best friend can spy your pretty pussy.

“Well then.” he chuckles at the way you jump when his fingertip just barely grazes your clit. “Guess I jus’ hafta prove m’better.”

A low groan is falling from his lips as soon as they meet your puffy ones, giving your pretty clit a chaste peck. Lingering long enough that he’s sure your sweet sweet juices cover his mouth.

And oh Satoru’s sure he’ll never forget the way your jaw falls slack, glassy eyes following his every move as he runs his tongue along his glossy lips. Savoring your candied taste, “Never kissed you like this before, huh?”

Fuck, you’re sweeter than he’s imagined.

You whine desperately, something that has him smirking smugly, “Hah, what? Cat got your tongue?”

“You’re better when you shut up.” It’s all you can do to buck your hips into Satoru’s pretty face - not that you had to, because one taste of your dripping cunt and he was addicted. Surging forwards until he was nose-deep, locking your ankles around his head with a firm yank.

And you can’t lie - maybe you’ve imagined this exact scene a few times before on those lonely nights. But you just never expected Satoru to be so depraved. Desperate.

“Ngh- fuck, Toru-” you reach a hand down to thread your fingers through his hair, tugging his face up. But Satoru doesn’t stop - not even for a second. Tongue still dipping to spread your swollen folds with his tongue, looking you right in the eyes as he murmurs a strangled, “Mhm?”

“Thought you were gonna prove you’re better, hm?”

So goading. So like you.

At this, Satoru pulls back ever-so-slightly to laugh - laugh. His plump, glistening lips curling into a humorless little grin, “Oh I will.” Thumb circling your throbbing clit. Just dragging your twitching body across the silky sheets close to his, one hand pinning your hips down. Hard. “I will.”

Loving his new favorite place between your legs one hand toys with your clit, quick, messy little patterns. Tongue even more so.

“Not just better.” he grunts, “Gonna make you cum so much harder, too.” Having your thighs shake with each word hissed out into your cunt, each turn of his deft fingers. “Till I’m the only thing on your mind. Me.”

And it’s all you can do to let out choked up groans of his name, back arching off the plush mattress to let him make out with your cunt deeper. Sloppier. So, so starved with the way he’s speeding up, tongue dragging across your walls. In and out in and out in and-

“Fuck! Hngh-” you angle his head - and he lets you. “There- Toru-”

Honestly, you didn’t even have to tell Satoru - he could feel it. Could feel it in the way your plushy walls are squeezing his hot tongue so harsh, until it was almost difficult to fuck your pussy so sloppily. In the way you’re letting out such delicious whines each time he grazes against those sweet spots.

“There? Hah- I know.” he pulls away to muse, and your cute, disappointed whine goes straight to his already rock-hard cock. “Did he?”

He didn’t. And you’re shaking your head so pathetically - in a way you’d be embarrassed about usually.

But that’s the last thing you’re thinking bout because you feel it - the cold, sinful feeling of Satoru spitting on your filthy cunt. Once. Twice. Blue eyes widening in delight at the way the mess of spit and slick drip down your slit.

“Cute.” his tongue smoothes over the slutty pool, and the only thing your delirious brain can make out now is a low moan of, “So? Who’s better?”

It’s all you can do to choke out a broken little, “T-T-” Face burning at the way he was so clearly enjoying your struggle. And, well, no matter painfully hard it made his dick - he had to go just a bit easy on his girl, right?

“Shhhh, s’alright.” you flinch as he shoves two absolutely drenched fingers into your mouth, making so much more of a mess of it than necessary. Drinking in your cute gags, “I was asking her.” He’s making your head spin with the way he’s speeding up. “N’ she’s hah- very talkative.” Words muffled, and slurring together - like he was drunk off of you and your cunt. “Let’s hear what she has to ngh- say, huh?”

And with that, he’s alternating between lapping at your clit and squeezing into your sloppy entrance - like he couldn’t - didn’t - want to make up his mind. Oh, with your teary mewls strangled, the sound of Satoru making out with cunt is so loud. The squelches so obscene.

“Fuuuuck.” he drawls. “Louder than I thought. I think she says I’m better, don’t you think?”

You angle your head just right to catch the way his jaw grinds deeper into you, eating you out like his last meal. Your slick drooling down his chin so sinfully.

“Ngh- fuck fuck fuck- ngh-” your yelps are dreamy, feeling like you were losing your mind with the way he was stretching you out.

Like you were about to snap. Any second now.

But Satoru’s only increasing his movements, drawing out your little moans. “And I think she’s saying…” Getting sloppier. More erratic - and it didn’t matter if his fingers were cramping up now, cock aching with the need to be inside you. “-that she’s about to cum.”

You do - so hard and loud - both you and your cunt.

You’re shaking, all but gushing all over Satoru’s mouth, tight pussy squeezing his tongue so hard. Barely even realizing the searing grip you’ve got on his hair as you drag your sloppy pussy all over his mouth.

But Satoru doesn’t mind - he gladly welcomes it, in fact. Tonguefucking your snug cunt senselessly, letting you chase your high as roughly as you wanted. Over and over.

Even when you’re vision isn’t as spotty as before, even when nothing’s coming out of your mouth but little whimpers. Your breathing dying down until all that rings in your barely-lucid mind were those obscene noises of Satoru’s lips all on yours.

“T-Toru-” you whine, big fat tears pricking at your hazy eyes. “M’so sensitive.”

And of course this is Satoru, the same boy who’s been pushing your buttons for years just to giggle at your adorable reactions. Which is why he grins against your twitching cunt, “So?”

It takes everything in you to raise your head off the pillow that just seemed to be swallowing you whole, and even more to shoot Satoru a half-hearted glare. “So m’gonna ngh- assume you’re jus’ a pussy with a s-smaller dick than-”

You don’t get to finish your sentence - he doesn’t let you. Because Satoru’s fumbling with his belt, peeling off those still-drenched pants just enough for you to admire his clothed erection.

And, shit, admittedly you expected him to have a big dick - having been subjected to way too much locker room talk with your brother - but this was ridiculous.

“What? Too big?” He flashes you that infuriating grin. Palming his rock-hard cock through his boxers at the way your beautiful eyes trace the outline of his cock, all swollen and big. So intimidatingly big. “Damn, sweetheart, if I knew that this was how I’d get that feisty lil’ mouth of yours to shut up then I’d have done it a lot sooner.”

And you don’t even know if you’re breathing, the pads of your fingers dancing along his bulge. Tracing those prominent veins. Thumbing that little damp spot at his fat head. “You wouldn’t have.”

He hisses as your soft hands dip into the hem of his underwear. Voice cracking slightly, “I wouldn’t.”

Then you’re gasping - in sync with Satoru’s low moan - as you finally let him spring free. Thick cock hitting his sculpted abs, red tip smearing precum in a lewd little pool. Weeping and so so angry at the sight of you.

At the heavenly feeling of your thumb teasing under his sensitive slit, “Oh, shit.”

He’s throwing his head back when you give an experimental pump, all the way from his pretty tip to the tufts fo white at his hilt. Fist gliding all over the thumping veins. Bucking his hips up like such a slut into your touch.

“O-oh fuck.” he cracks an eye open at the way your hand looked so small compared to his dick, how well you were taking care of him. “Been ngh- dreaming of this since I learned what handjobs were, y’know? Hah- shit- ya gotta stop before I fuckin’ pass out.”

And Satoru thinks he could cum right then and there at the way you’re bringing your soaked index up to your mouth. Batting your lashes as you suck on them with a lewd pop! “From jus’ that?”

“You have no idea.”

That’s all it takes for Satoru to throw your still-quivering thighs over his shoulders, effectively shutting up whatever tease is on the tip of your sharp tongue by kissing your swollen folds with his fat head. Giving it one, long drag.

Your mouth is sagging open at the slow, torturous teasing. The sheer anticipation that had your mouth running, “S-so much for ah- jus’ being ‘friends’, huh?”

“Oh, sweetheart.” And you’re flinching from Satoru’s deep, dark tone. The way he’s bracing his fingers so bruisingly on your hips, reeling all the way back till his tip was just kissing your hole. “We stopped being friends the day you married me on that playground.”

And then he’s slamming in - pushing past that first, feeble ring of resistance, gummy walls stretching out so perfectly for him. As if he fit right in - and he tells you that. Pants it into your open mouth a little over fifteen times, in fact.

“Shiiiit, look at you.” he can’t tear his eyes away from the side of your lips stretching so wide to try and milk him. Sloppy entrance stretching out like magic. “S’like you’re made for me, huh? This pussy is made f’me?”

“Ngh- fuck, Toru! S’too big-” you keen, feet flattening on the mattress. As if to escape. To maybe fucking breathe.

Not even half-way in yet, but aleady torn between pushing away and sinking yourself down on his swollen cock for more more more-

“Don’t you dare run away.” he warns, looking up at you through his long lashes. “I’ve waited too long for this. N’ you’re not taking this pretty pussy away any time soon.” Inch by fucking inch. Grinding in short, sharps jabs - no rhythm of rhyme, like they were genuinely out of control. “Way too f-fuckin’-” All the way until your puffy folds was meeting his hilt. Finally. All the way in. “-long.”

And once Satoru had you split apart on his dick - had those tears rolling down your cheeks, cunt swallowing him so sluttily - it’s like something snaps.

Because he doesn’t waste a second - he’s already wasted almost two decades, anyway - filling you up with his mean hips. Not fucking easing you into it because you always did bring out that part of him, the part that him looping two strong arms around your waist. Pulling.

“Oh- f-fuck c’mere.” Satoru gasps, pressing your body so crushingly against his. Kissing your shaky shoulers, your sweaty forehead, the gentleness so contrasting to his hips.“God I’ve missed out- fuck fuck fuck-”

You’ve never seen the great Gojo Satoru - campus sex symbol - so uncomposed. Eyes half-lidded, just boring into yours, mouth slack in a soft oh! as he drags his cock all over inside your gummy walls. And the sight is so heavenly that you make the mistake the mistake of cracking a minute smile.

Just barely curling your lips before - “Don’t smile at me like that.” He’s dipping down a hand to roll your ravaged clit between two bullying fingers. “Fuck, she’s gonna be the death of me. Right?”

You keen at the- stimulation? The strech? The sheer embarrassment as you realize that Satou’s still talking to your sloppy pussy? Nodding so mockingly up at you as he plows on, “Mhm, she says you needa be ngh- knocked down a god, you’re tight- peg or two. So- get- ready-”

He’s using this as an excuse to sit up on his knees, dragging you onto his lap so easily like some ragdoll.

“That’s more like it.”

You’re sliding deeper down his painfully hard cock - all the way till his heavy balls rest beneath your ass, clit rubbing against his pelvis every time he bounces you like some slut.

Deep. Ruthless.

“Keep your eyes open, sweetheart.” He chuckles, and you’re screwing open your eyes that you don’t even remember shutting. Trying so hard to stop crying out at the feeling of the curve of his dick massaging your walls. “Ya gotta hngh- see the o-only one who’d fuckin’ you properly, right?”

You squeal when he’s taking your clit captive once more. Finger quick, deft. “Y-yes.”

But that wasn’t enough for Satoru - it might as well never be. Because he’s only ramming his hips up further. Like he’s pushing into your stomach, your lungs, all the way into your cockdrunk brain. Fat head alternating between kissing your poor, abused cervix and all those sweet spots he’d mapped out with his tongue.

“Sounded unsure to me.” he’s pouty against your hardened nipples bouncing enticingly in his face. Fingers quirking faster on your clit, “Maybe I should ngh- stop then?”

“No!” Your hips stutter against Satoru’s. Nails clawing down the sculpted panes of his shoulders, leaving red angry marks for him to take as a sign tomorrow morning that no, it wasn’t just one of his dreams this time. “No no no- m’sure. You’re the only one makin’ me feel this way.”

You can feel the way he’s twitching wildly at your words, dick thumping harder inside your sensitive cunt.

He punctures each word with a heavy, calculated thrust. Hand stretching and squeezing open your cunt from behind to let him slide impossibly deeper. “Hmmm, I’m not convinced.”

Your stupid mouth is only capable of letting out broken, choked-up little moans of his name, ankles locking around those dimples at the end of his spine. “S’you–”

“Still not convinced.”

But he’s still speeding up his movements, just dragging you up and down his cock. “Who else made you hah- feel this good?” Sure to claim you from the inside out - to leave marks everywhere. Heavy balls on your ass, weeping tip on your cervix, lips bruised as you whimper at his murmured, “That ex of yours?” Biting down your neck, “That barista that always flirts with you?” Pulling away only to breathe into your lips, “Who?”

“ I- fuck it’s only you, Toru.”

“Sound convincing to you?” Satoru hums down at your cunt, biting his lower lip at the way you were milking him so good. Your slick soaking him all the way down to his balls - so needy in a way he never thought he’d see. “Yeah-” be breathes, nosing at your neck. “She agrees- fuck does this tight lil’ pussy of yours agree.” A few tears, a few gorgeous marks down his back, and he was finally convinced. “You’re mine.”

You don’t even realize it when you’re cumming, and Satoru doesn’t either.

Both of you too caught up in each other to recognize that familiar, white-hot pleasure running down your spine - all the way down to where he was so mercilessly buried in your cunt.

And you’re well into the blood roaring deafeningly in your ears, the sight of Satoru - all wrecked - blurring as he fucks his hips up. Harsh. Eyes rolling to the back of his head as he paints your quivering walls white.

Cumming and cumming so hard that you can feel his seed dribbling down your thighs, making such a mess all over Satoru’s lap. Your poor, overfilled cunt soon bloated and unable to keep up with it.

“Toru–” you whine, like a prayer. Milking the fucking soul out of him while he gently paws at your messy hair.

“Shhh, I know I know, sweetheart.” Such a stark contrast to the way he was filling you up like his favorite sex toy. Not even bothering to move anymore, one hand on your hip, moving your limp body up and down his sensitive cock to fuck it deeper. The other still playing with your clit, “S’alright, my girl”

Satoru’s hands never leave you, and he prays that now that he got a taste - well, you better be alright with them not leaving you for as long as he lives.

“As long as you live, huh?” you chuckle groggily, a noise so dreamy that Satoru can’t even be mad that he said it out loud. “And all that riling me up these years. Do you have a degradation kink or something?”

“Well, only one way to find out~”

“Oh shut up you-”

SLAM!

“Yooo, I bought dinner from that- WHAT THE FUCK?”

There were only two more lessons to be learned:

Always lock the door. Always. And in case you don’t, a bouquet of lollipops will do the trick to a Suguru reeling from the newest addition to the family.

Cheap takeout tastes better with an apologetic Suguru, and an ice pack to his cheek - and you to kiss it better.

A/N. Can you tell I kept listening to that one Artemas song while writing this?

Plagiarism not authorized.

#gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk #jjk fic #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #tonywrites

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wordpress-blaze-45468677 · 7 days ago

Text

The Worst Pittsburgh Pirate Offense of my Lifetime?

The Pittsburgh Pirates commenced May with successive series losses, recording an 0-7 start for the month, which stands as their worst performance to begin May since at least 1970. The Pirates opened the month with an 8-3 defeat against the Chicago Cubs and subsequently lost three consecutive games to the San Diego Padres, being swept in the series with a combined score of 15 to 5 and batting averages of .264 compared to .218. The downward trend persisted as the Pirates visited Busch Stadium to face the St. Louis Cardinals, where they were swept again in three games, with a cumulative run margin of 13 to 4. To date in May, the Pirates have been outscored 36 to 12 and have faced opponent batting averages of .277 compared to their own .183.

While preparing to write this analysis, I considered whether this might be the weakest Pirates offense I have experienced in my lifetime. I am now 37 years old and have been an avid Pirate fan since as early as I can remember which is around 2000. Upon examining historical data, it actually is.

For comparison, I noticed the 2010 season during which the Pittsburgh Pirates had a record of 54-105 with an offense that ranked in the bottom three in most categories. This particular season stood out, prompting further investigation. The team's performance, especially offensively, was notably poor. In 2010, the Pittsburgh Pirates' offense ranked 29th in team batting average at .242, 28th in OPS at .678, and 29th in runs scored with 587. Comparing this to the current year's statistics revealed a concerning trend. The Pirates' 2025 batting average is .219, and their OPS is .625, far worse than the worst Pirates team I've ever witnessed in my lifetime.

Among the nine starting batters in 2010 compared to 2025, Joey Bart has a batting average of .264 and an OPS of .764, compared to his 2010 counterpart, Ryan Doumit, who had a batting average of .251 and an OPS of .738. A rare occurrence where the 2025 batter outperformed the 2010 batter at the same position.

Enmanuel Valdez, the Pirates' first baseman in 2025, has a batting average of .209 and an OPS of .657, whereas Garrett Jones, his 2010 counterpart, had a batting average of .247 and an OPS of .720. At second base, 2025 starter Adam Frazier has a batting average of .229 and an OPS of .607, as opposed to Neil Walker's 2010 statistics of a batting average of .296 and an OPS of .811. K’Bryan Hayes, the 2025 third baseman and once perceived to be face-of-the-franchise, has a batting average of .254 and an OPS of .619, compared to Pedro Alvarez’s .256 batting average and .788 OPS.

The 2025 starting shortstop, Isiah Kiner-Falefa, has a batting average of .280, whereas Ronny Cedeno had a batting average of .256 in 2010; however, Kiner-Falefa's OPS is .663 compared to Cedeno’s .675.

The Leftfield spot shows perhaps the most disturbing differences, with Tommy Pham in 2025 hitting .183 with an OPS of .480, compared to Jose Tabata’s .299 batting average and .746 OPS in 2010. In centerfield, 2025 O’Neil Cruz has a batting average of .246, and Andrew McCutchen had a .286 average in 2010, but Cruz has a higher OPS at .861 compared to McCutchen's .814. Rightfield comparisons show Lastings Milledge in 2010 with a batting average of .236 and an OPS of .700, while Bryan Reynolds in 2025 has a batting average of .219 and an OPS of .632. Finally, since DH was not part of the National League in 2010, Delwin Young is considered for comparison. Young batted .236 with an OPS of .700, while 2025 DH Andrew McCutchen averages .257 with an OPS of .750.

PositionPlayer (2025)Batting Average (2025)OPS (2025)Player (2010)Batting Average (2010)OPS (2010)CatcherJoey Bart.264.764Ryan Doumit.251.738First BaseEnmanuel Valdez.209.657Garrett Jones.247.720Second BaseAdam Frazier.229.607Neil Walker.296.811Third BaseK'Bryan Hayes.254.619Pedro Alvarez.256.788ShortstopIsiah Kiner-Falefa.280.663Ronny Cedeno.256.675Left FieldTommy Pham.183.480Jose Tabata.299.746Center FieldO'Neil Cruz.246.861Andrew McCutchen.286.814Right FieldBryan Reynolds.219.632Lastings Milledge.236.700DHAndrew McCutchen.257.750Delwin Young.236.700

Upon reviewing the data presented, it is notable that Lastings Milledge, whose performance during his tenure in Pittsburgh has often been regarded as subpar, actually exceeds the performance of Bryan Reynolds, who is consistently recognized as one of the Pirates' leading hitters.

Of the 18 categories mentioned above, the 2025 Pirates offense exhibits proficiency in only six. It is noteworthy that while the 2025 Pirates offense is projected to have 27 shutouts, the 2010 offense was shut out only 15 times during the entire season.

After thorough investigation, I believe that the 2025 lineup is the worst Pittsburgh Pirate offense I've ever seen which inevitably led to the dismissal of Derek Shelton.

Source: The Worst Pittsburgh Pirate Offense of my Lifetime?

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navybrat817 · 11 days ago

Note

Miss Navy! What if the reader joined the thunderbolts and fooled around with Bucky?

Bahaha. I have a thot, nonnie.

Not Exactly a Secret

Pairing: Thunderbolts!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: You and Bucky are really good teammates... and more.

Word Count: Over 1.1k

Warnings: Kissing, implied smut, humor, team bonding (kind of), Thunderbolts spoilers, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Using this beautiful @nixakimbo edit for reasons (you know why if you've seen Thunderbolts!). ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

In hindsight, they all should've seen it coming.

You were the last to join the team and easy to get along with. You could roll with the punches and keep up with Alexei, put John in his place when he stepped out of line, sympathize with Bob, and have a blast with Yelena and Ava. Hell, you even congratulated Bucky on his six month stint as a Congressman and swore he made a difference. He admired your kindness. He admired you.

The team thought Bucky was just being extra welcoming since he always found an excuse to be around you. If you offered to cook for the team, he was beside you in the kitchen ready to help. If you wanted to spar, he dropped what he was doing to go to the training room. And if you suggested a movie night, he sat next to you with your favorite snacks ready to go and a blanket in case you got cold.

Everyone noticed that Bucky smiled more when you were around. He laughed more, too. Turned to you for advice and didn't mind staying up late to chat or exchange books. Your room also happened to be beside his and he spent a lot of time in there, more than a regular teammate should.

The recent movie night you snuggled against him and started to doze off. If anyone else had tried to snuggle with him there was a chance they'd lose a hand, but not you. “Mmm. You're so good to me, Bucky,” you said when he picked you up.

“You know me. Just being a good teammate,” he replied, holding you close the way a boyfriend would and not at all like a teammate.

Yeah, they should’ve seen it coming.

Bob stumbled upon you by accident. He had forgotten his hoodie in the common room after one of the movie nights and froze when he spotted you and Bucky making out on the couch. He stood there for a full minute torn because he wanted to get his hoodie back, but he didn't want to interrupt. He ultimately decided against it when Bucky pushed you back on the cushions. On top of his hoodie.

“I’ll just… I’ll get it tomorrow. And I’ll wash it. Yeah, yeah. I'll do that. It’s fine. Everything’s fine,” he mumbled as he went back to his room.

You were kind enough to wash it yourself the next day and offered to buy him a new one, but he declined. It was nice that you offered. And he was happy because he saw how happy you made Bucky.

Yelena caught the two of you in the training room. For a moment it looked like Bucky was trying a new move on you and she almost asked him to show her how it was done. Tilting her head after a few seconds, she realized what she was seeing wasn't a defense move at all. If there was any doubt, the grunt he let out and the moan you gave him in response when some clothes were moved aside told her very loud and clear what was happening. And it would've been rude to stay and watch.

“Oh, I'm not sparring on that mat again,” she muttered.

She did spar on it again after Bucky cleaned it twice.

Ava didn't catch the two of you doing anything. She phased in the kitchen one day while Bucky was eating and making a mess. The exasperated look on your face when you tossed him a paper towel was adorable, as was the smile you two exchanged. Bucky never looked that soft around anyone else.

“You eat pussy like that?” Ava asked to get a rise out of Bucky when another drop of sauce hit his shirt.

“Yeah, he does,” you said without skipping a beat.

Ava laughed, thinking it was a joke at first, before she caught Bucky staring you down and licking his lips. You bit your lip and Ava almost phased out of the room to give you two some privacy. You beat her to it by sauntering out of the room with a smirk, the super soldier hot on your tail and leaving his mess behind.

“Thank you for not using the counter since we eat here!” Ava called out after the two of you.

Bucky had you on the counter the next day so he could eat, too.

Alexei found the two of you in his limo tangled up in each other. You couldn't explain why you and Bucky decided to fool around in there, but you wanted to have some fun and the limo was there. And it was clean. The Red Guardian wasn't at all upset. In fact, he felt honored that the Winter Soldier wanted to have sex in his limo and blasted “Pony” to set the mood.

“That’s what I talk about!” he cheered before Yelena dragged him away.

She also decided then and there that she’d always ride in the front seat of the limo.

John was the last to know, which surprised no one. After a successful mission, he realized neither you nor Bucky had answered a question he asked. Whatever smartass comment he began died in his throat when Bucky unashamedly kissed you. There was nothing gentle or chaste about it. It was a deep, filthy kiss and he felt like a perv watching.

Bucky must've thought something similar since he gave John the finger all while he continued to kiss you and you gripped his hair.

“Are you guys…” John trailed off since the rest of the group didn't seem at all surprised by the display. “Wait, did everyone know? Was I the only one who didn't know?”

“Yes, dime store Captain America.” Ava rolled her eyes. “Everyone knew.”

Whether it was the insult of being the last to know, John looked offended. “Even Bobby? And since when did the two of them become a thing?”

Bucky broke the kiss to glare at the blonde. “Yeah, asshole, Bob knew,” he replied.

“And it wasn't really a secret. We just hadn't officially announced it,” you said, giggling when Bucky’s lips found yours again.

Apparently the display was the official announcement.

“I really did know,” Bob smiled before he cleared his throat. “I, uh, found them in the common room.”

“Training room,” Yelena said.

Ava nodded. “Kitchen.”

“Limo!” Alexei shouted, hitting his chest. “My limo.”

“Jesus Christ,” John muttered.

Bob shrugged. “I think they make a good couple.”

“Of course, you do,” Yelena said, a small smile forming on her face as you and Bucky carried on. “I think so, too.”

Yeah, lovelies. Loved the film. Not at all sorry. Catch more shenanigans with Game Nights. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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coconutdays · 14 days ago

Text

sex, money, feelings dont die

s. you come back home after spending a year away from your friends, suguru geto among them. and you think you've gotten over your suppressed feelings for him, you think

w.c. 11.2k

w. fem! reader, kickboxer/business student!geto! x reader , mutual pining! friends to lovers! fluff!, smut! virginity loss! (but it's not that big of a deal, you'll see why) masturbation!

a/n: ummmmmm I thought about this while watching a suguru edit. this is a little slowburn, but not painful I think idk I stayed up to finish this. will proofread later I need sleep. mwah hope you like.

you are beat up the first morning you wake up in your home after spending a year abroad.

your head is pounding, the light is agonizing to stare into, and your back is tense after spending the last 24 hours running around with the fattest luggage on earth, sleeping on stiff airport lounge seats, and sleeping on the stiff plane seats, or at least trying to.

buzz-buzz-buzz-buzz-buzz-buzz

fuck's sake

"let me sleep, let me sleep, let me sleep." you groan painfully into your bed, body short circuiting on the jet lag and reminiscing on the peaceful sleep you were just having.

buzz-buzz-buzz-buzz-buzz-buzz

"oh my-"

knock-knock

your head whirs up and looks towards where the door to your apartment would be outside of your room. and you hear a faint, familiar voice calling out your name cheekily.

exhausted, you get up and out of bed to open the door.

"as much as I missed you guys, I just traveled across the world and my body is still recovering..."you groan, walking to your couch and flopping onto it, eyes still a bit puffy.

"my body too would also miss the crisp baguettes and wine for breakfasts," gojo slyly comments as he slides into your apartment with one step and plops into your--small--beanbag, his legs poke out comically while he inhabits the light pink ball of foam.

a light whiff of cigarette smoke and cherries inhabit your room too when shoko throws a warm? bag on your back and picks up your legs so she can sit underneath them.

"I told him you wouldn't want people at your door this early." she sighed aloofly.

"nothing a breakfast bagel can't fix." gojo snickers

you finally open your eyes and sit straight up, digging into the brown paper bag that was once on your back

"or two." he adds, watching with a smirk as you take a hearty bite out of the first bagel

when you gulp it down and clear your throat, you point a finger at him then to your suitcase in the corner of the room, "there are four boxes of pierre herme macaroons in there with your name written all over them."

"aw you thought about me."

"yeah I really do," you speak gruffly between heavenly bites, "paris doesn't make this shit."

"there's no bagels in Paris?" shoko tilts her head, a blank look in her eyes

"shut up, you know what I mean." you almost moan, faintly rolling your eyes back in pure bliss before forming a realizing thought and turning to gojo, "did you come here this early for your macarons gojo satoru????"

his smile is blank and so are his eyes, you can tell, even through his stupid glasses.

"eat that second bagel, why don't you, my favorite friend who I've missed so dearly."

right before a slight scowl forms on your face, shoko interjects.

"he did cry when nobody else wanted to drink the nth pornstar martini with him at the function the other day."

"hey!"

you giggle a little and feel your sleepiness and grumpy mood fading away. (thank you gojo's breakfast bagels and shoko's disrespect)

"no need to worry anymore babygirl, daddy's home." you smile, lazily hugging the armrest of your couch

gojo huffs and puts a hand close to your face, "I saw your stories unfaithful slut, those cheese fiends were matching your freak, with espresso martinis of all things."

"but did I ever drink a pornstar martini without you?" you poke back, slapping his hand away

you can tell gojo is thinking and has been left speechless, but just as much as he's a victim to shoko, so are you.

"that she posteddddd."

"you guys are not allowed to wake me up this early and bully me, either of you," you state as you jump up and address the both of them before heading to your fridge to serve yourself some water.

"anyways, where's suguru?"

"training." shoko answers airily as her head lolls onto the armrest.

"he's been super focused lately right? I think he deactivated his instagram like the first month of me being in France."

you remember feeling bummed out every time you posted a pretty picture and never saw him in your views.

"that's an understatement," satoru scoffed snarkily, "I do not understand such a dedication to kickboxing when he's deadset on business."

"can't a guy have hobbies?" shoko questions, not at all seemingly bothered by Geto's dedication to sport such as satoru is.

"you guys want coffee?" you ask, about to turn your back to turn on ur espresso machine.

"yes," gojo says before adding a quick, "but from the cafe two blocks from here."

eyes squinted, you turn again and lean against your kitchen countertop, "I literally have a coffee machine."

"you drink that pretentious small espresso shot crap, weirdo, I don't want that"

"okay but I can just pour milk for yours?"

"I doubt you can make an iced vanilla biscoff latte here." he scoffs

"satoruuuuuu~" you whine, exhaling as you stare up at your ceiling, "I have to wash my face and get ready! I wasn't mentally prepared for that."

"I'll buy you a pistachio matcha latte," he grins, toothy and sharp, "with that creamy oatmilk you like that's an extra 2 dollars."

"I missed you and your bank account so, so much," you say whole heartedly, sending him quick air kiss of appreciation with your middle and index finger as you trot into your bathroom to start getting ready.

on the walk to the cafe, you fight and try to suppress the wondering your conscious has for suguru geto.

you're friends, have been since your freshman year of college, and that's all you have been. there's always been a feeling there in regards to him, but you've never touched on it for more than you've thought about it (repeatedly.) you just couldn't bring yourself to break that peaceful friendship or to even think about crossing it.

sure you noticed the day he deactivated his socials.

sure you like wearing his hoodie/jackets and acting like nothing of it.

but it's not like you took up the scholarship offer in Paris because maybe your favorite city in the world could distract you from hoping he'd ever flirt with you.

it did

"oh is that the rock climber?" shoko asks as she peers over your shoulder and onto your phone.

"indeed it is," you mutter cheekily as you answer the French fling's text, "he thought I was leaving tomorrow instead of yesterday, lmao"

"no goodbye sex?"

"fingering me is hardly sex," you look at her with a side eye

"woah, couldn't get over the 50/50 thing after all huh?"

"never," you sighed, putting your phone back in your pocket, "the least he could do was service me a little with a few orgasms after I had to pay for my own drinks."

"so who did you fuck?" satoru interjected, visibly curious as he stood in line with you guys and simultaneously read the coffee menu for any new sugary drinks

"nobody," you sighed, "didn't feel like anyone was worthy losing my card to."

but all this and here you are, shoving thoughts of him to the back of your mind. it's all become so natural that compressing any thought of geto isn't an overthought process anymore. you've forced yourself to become near careless about him, silencing the voice that cares every minute of every day. you don't know if you're in love with him or containing a small crush on him, that's how scared you are.

"understandable," satoru reasons, whilst picking his phone out of his pocket to read something.

"hey, look at that, haibara wants us all to come for drinks at his place tonight," blue eyes sparkle at you from beneath his glasses that he's purposely let slide downwards, "you know he makes the best lychee and passionfruit martinis."

"and dirty martinis." shoko pipes in

both you and gojo stare at her in slight disgust before he returns to giving you his puppy face.

"as long as there's a ride home involved, I hate sleeping at other people's places."

satoru stands straight up in glee and claps his fingers together, "great! don't worry about that, suguru doesn't drink anymore because of how uptight he's been lately."

the whole day becomes hang out with satoru and shoko day after that. you can't exactly go home by the time you're done with your matcha latte and your stomach starts rumbling for lunch, especially when trust fund baby satoru offers to pay for lunch. then he drags you both into a museum he's been wanting to see, and suddenly it's nearing sundown and it's time for dinner.

"let's go buy pizzas for haibara!" satoru exclaims with a pep in his step as he leads the way for you and shoko to follow after him.

when you get to haibara's apartment, everyone's already there.

various chimes of your name are said as you begin to greet everyone after being away for so long.

utahime hugs you particularly tight and fusses over you, "thank god you're back, you look so beautiful, shoko's too careless to have conversations with sometimes."

fearing your friend would be offended, your mouth open and closes, unable to figure out what to say until you turn to look at her sleazed on the couch and already lighting a cig.

"it's true," she shrugs

"I'm glad to see you too hime." you smile, embracing her in the hug again.

you hear a familiar voice speak when you let go of the embrace

"there wasn't really anything for me to wear haibara, had to settle for this shirt."

geto stands at the door to haibara's bedroom, one hand up and holding onto the frame as he calmly peers down at his shirt and then to the owner of it.

why was he wearing haibara's shirt? and why does it look so...

and suddenly he's looking at you, eyes softening just a bit as he greets you by your name and starts to walk towards you.

you'd imagined, hoped seeing him again would warrant more excitement from him, but no he's still the same calm and collected guy he's always been.

"suguru" you smile, ignoring the way your heart races at the side hug he gives you

well, his body isn't the same. god, how often has he been training? you didn't know his arms could be that veiny.

"satoru texted me that you've been with him and shoko all day." he starts, lips only slightly, minisculely turned upwards as a way of being polite towards your presence.

"since eight in the morning." you sigh, looking over at the freakishly tall giant already breaking into one of the many pizza boxes he bought.

"he missed you." suguru looks at his best friend too, making a face of disgust for a moment when satoru finishes a pizza in two bites.

"I missed him too," you breathe, smiling a little, "wallet or no wallet."

that makes suguru laugh and you're so thankful tails evolutioned off of humans or else you'd have a hard time controlling the urge to wag it back and forth at the reward that was making geto suguru laugh.

"I missed you." he says once his laugh falters away

"me too." you respond, fighting the awkward and terrible pit in your stomach

did he really miss you? miss you? how much did that mean for him?

it doesn't seem like a lot because he gives you a small grin before walking towards shoko and striking up a conversation with her. and gojo hithers you to him from across the room to start drinking your first martini of the night.

you've forgotten how drunk you get with gojo.

your vision is tunneled and you dont know what time it is or what is even what.

"oh brother." you groan, stabilizing yourself on the kitchen countertop. you had gotten up from being sprawled on gojo's back on the floor because you wanted a slice of pizza and the journey seemed quite treacherous now. so far, yet so close. you just had to open that pizza box.

until a hand made its way into your vision, opening the box, getting a slice, and offering it up to you. its a pretty hand, a silver ring on the index finger, veins running up it and onto the arms

of suguru

he's smiling fondly at you

"hungry?" he asks in amusement

"yes, thank you." you gulp, otherwise unable to show how flustered you are due to the immense alcohol in your system and insatiable hunger.

once you take the slice from him, geto begins to slide a chair out and helps you land on it considering it was a little high.

he sits across from you on the kitchen island.

"parmesan?" he has the bottle in hand, jeering it to you

"mhm" is all you can say through a muffled mouth and take the parmesan bottle for yourself.

"is this anything like the pizza over there?" he asks again in amusement

"no," you shake your head gruffly, almost groaning from how wonderful the taste is on your inebriated mouth, "but I can appreciate this right now."

you feel as if you've finished your pizza far too soon, knowing that the part of you that's embarrassed is subdued and screaming that you've been far unladylike in front of suguru, who eyed satoru so disapprovingly when he did it.

suddenly,

"you have some..." suguru leans over just a smidge and brushes your cheek with his thumb, "...parmesan dust."

"oh," you try to keep your jaw closed amid the surprise of his actions, "thank you."

"you want another slice?" he nudges his head in the direction of the box next to him, eyes innocently waiting for a response.

he sees you open and close your mouth again, hesitant on a response before he decides for you and gets you another slice.

"you need something else in your stomach to keep the martinis some company." he smiles a little and motions for you to look at the plastered satoru on the floor, "he's done already, so don't worry."

"thank you." you almost pout as an appreciation to his mercy and figure you should ask what was on your mind earlier, after chewing and swallowing a bite gracefully. you were going to be more conscious of this second slice.

"why are you wearing one of haibara's shirts by the way?"

"Oh," his eyebrows only raise a little and he looks down at the extra tight black shirt, "he was trying to imitate those street vendors that make slushies out of regular soda before you three got here."

"and haibara being him, I figure somewhere along the lines it erupted all over you." you giggled a little, imagining the mess

"that you are correct." geto smizes. he then looks around to the various bodies thrown across the room and zones in onto the floor.

"are you ready to go now satoru?" he asks, one brow quirked up, wondering if his best friend heard him or not.

you turn a little to look at him too and he only turns his face so that his cheek is resting against the floor.

"I don't think I'm even ready to get up," he grumbles, "you guys can go without me, I'm fine right here for the night."

feeling alert already at the idea of being alone with geto, you ask satoru if he's sure

"your back is going to hurt a lot in the morning Toru." you plead internally

"don'ttttttt careeee." he burbles

you're about to open your mouth to urge him again, but suguru gets up and nudges your arm lightly, keys already in hand, "don't worry about satoru, he doesn't have anything important tomorrow anyways."

then his hand is reached out towards you, probably to help stabilize you as you get off the ridiculously tall chair.

hazily, you take it and start to follow him out of the apartment and to the parking lot

his back looks really good in that shirt, you note. every muscle is carefully outlined, every movement of his being emphasized.

"hey," he turns his head over his shoulder to peer down at you, "why're you back there."

suguru then reaches a hand behind your back lightly and motions you to walk in front of him.

"oh, my bad," you murmur, having been snapped back into reality.

the rest of the walk to his car is quiet. and when you get there, suguru's leading you to the passenger seat, opening the door for you, and leaning in to buckle you in without even asking if you could do it.

when he starts the car, you see the time on his front screen.

3:43

"oh my god," you gape at the time, then look at geto while he starts to back out.

one hand on the back of your seat.

"hm?"

and that's all it takes for you to resume what you were going to originally say, finding all the scattered gibberish in your brain to form and communicate the thought.

"weren't you telling utahime that you had to get up early for training? it's so late..." you point at the time

"I do," he shrugged, eyes on the emerging road

"I'm sorry," you lightly pout in guilt

suguru gives you a quick once over and he grins so faintly, "I don't mind."

"let me send you money for a coffee or something." you turn in your seat to look at him pleadingly, eyes scanning him for any hint of resentment

he laughs

"I'm flattered," he smirks, amusement lingering in his tone, "but I'm not taking your money."

you slump in your seat at the rejected offer before you remember something and quirk up in your seat a little

"at least let me give you the gift I got you when we get to my place?"

"sounds like the perfect exchange." he nods

when you wake up, its 1 p.m. and you're surprised you slept through the many alarms on your phone.

you remember everything from the night before and you're not hungover, thank god.

you reminisce on the moments you shared with suguru, even the ones you're embarrassed about.

"arghhh why did I force him to walk all the way up for his gift," you groan into your pillow, "wasted like fifteen more minutes of his time."

a small shriek leaves you as you headbutt yourself on the bed, "why did I do that."

its been about a week and a half since haibara's hang out. which has given you enough time to finally get used to being back home. you reorganized your place to accommodate for all the trinkets and decor you brought from Europe and cleaned out your closet.

you finished everything in time for your hangout with satoru

"Hey Toru." you lean down to give him a quick hug from where he's seated snugly, slurping on a sundae

and suguru

"hey." you breathe, not gulping when he gets up and hugs you to greet you.

when you sit down, you notice your heart is racing and your breathing is just a bit labored

probably the long walk over

"we got you strawberry mochi and a matcha latte," gojo mutters through the straw he's still slurping on, eyes zoned in on particularly nowhere? on the table in front of you all.

never separate this man from his sweets...

"oh thank you satoru." you say appreciatively, happy he thought of you

"thank suguru," he mutters back, "he paid."

your eyes drift to suguru, who smiles unphased, and lifts a hand up to minimize the gesture of paying for you, "satoru knew your order already, I just offered to pay."

"oh," you try not seem too disappointed that he didn't go out of his way to know your order, "well, still, thank you."

"it's no problem." he settled back into his seat comfortably

"didn't offer to pay for my sundae." satoru rolled his eyes

geto's eyes creased a little, as if internally smiling, and said, "didn't you eat out almost a third of my fridge yesterday?"

"whatever," satoru rolled his eyes, "buy me a second sundae then, im already finishing this one up."

"I'm not familiar with anything you've just said. are you feeling light-headed?"

"oh puh-lease," satoru starts to nag, "you can hear me just fine. stop acting like an idiot."

suguru fakes a look of confusion and concern, which makes satoru bolt up out of his seat and start heading towards the door to enter the parlor. and you're pretty sure you hear him say something about taking a bite out of your mochi when you're not looking.

the idiocy makes you giggle a little and you don't notice when suguru turns his head from looking over at a grumpy satoru to you, a slight upturn of his lip at being able to make you laugh.

flash!

after a blinding white light attacks your eyes, you're met with five schoolgirls, all with their phones out.

you'd think they'd be ashamed but?

"you guys are going on my Pinterest!" one giggles

another one is laughing almost as if she's on a sugar rush, very manically, "I hope my boyfriend is as hot as him one day. oh my god. aha aha ahahahahah!"

"you're so so so pretty." a ditsy one with a valley accent deadpans, nearing your face and making immense eye contact, "I know that you guys have the hottest sex."

your jaw drops and you look at suguru in shock, embarrassment out the door at being a coupe and more surprised by the actual words these teenagers are spilling out.

suguru's no better, no other movement on his face except for his raised eyebrows and wide eyes.

the ditsy one speaks again before they start to trail off, "I'm using you as hairspo for my next hair appointment."

and it goes in one ear and out the other because your mind is still stuck on the, 'I know that you guys have the hottest sex.'

what the fuck? what kind of crap was she imagining?

what was she thinking about?

hottest sex?

like flashbacks that never happened, vivid images of you on your knees and suguru drilling into you from behind play in your mind quickly.

he's so big in person and the thought is so palpable when he's next to you...

stop!

you feel your cheeks heating up and a shiver runs up your back.

you try to laugh to brush it all off, "they were probably high or something. or just really really extroverted..."

the tips of suguru's ears are the slightest pink as he finally makes eye contact with you.

"yeah," he breathes, "without a doubt."

"what were those schoolgirls yappin about?" satoru asks, a bit careless, as he plops back into his seat, a new sundae in hand

"nothing."

satoru glares a little at the both of you, his brow quirked up a little, "yeah sure."

you're shopping later at the mall with the both of them, a slight awkwardness between you and suguru that the both of you cover up by only really interacting with satoru and not the other unless satoru was involved in the interaction.

satoru is drowning in what looks like eight bags of clothes when he halts your walking and jeers his head towards the store next to him.

Victoria's Secret

"Didn't you come with us so you could buy new stuff here?"

Yes you had.

But that was before a group of teenagers made you feel awkward about discussing/associating anything nearing sex with suguru now.

"yeah..." you try not to stutter as you start to walk in

god, satoru is so unabashed and careless that he's going to accompany you too. and if satoru goes in, so does suguru. if suguru didn't want to, he would surely have to right now or else satoru would question him.

you know what, maybe suguru isn't overthinking it like you are. surely he isn't clinging on to the idea of sex with you.

yes, exactly.

bracing yourself, you walk into the store, pick up a bag, and ready yourself to start filling it up.

you've forgotten about your awkwardness with suguru after a while of being amazed by all the pretty options in front of you

and satoru, for the most part, is quite mature in this store.

for the most part...

"ha, look at those," he points at a mannequin wearing crotchless panties and at the same panties decorating the table beneath it, "get them."

disgruntled and rolling your eyes, you respond, "yeah sure when I'm getting screwed."

"girls wear lingerie for themselves you know."

"yeah I know," you huff, "and I do. but I can wear crotch on lingerie under my clothes. that's just plain old porn panties for not single people."

"you're such a debbie downer," he groans, "if I were a girl, id wear those with or without out a man."

"well, im a girl and you're not so." you say in a sing song voice as you check out a bra in your hands and toss it into your shopping bag.

"wait where's suguru?" gojo says, having noticed that his best friend's presence was quiet.

and that was all it merely was because suguru was scrolling through his phone, seemingly unphased by the store, paying no attention to what you and satoru were looking at.

"oh." gojo shrugs before he moves on to checking out more underwear with you.

and he spots a particularly cute set of babydoll's that you've grown enamored with, staring at all of them.

"those are very cute," your white-haired friend says

"and very expensive," you whine, having seen the price tag on one of them, "I don't know which one I want to take home."

"hm," satoru whirls around and looks between the mannequin wearing the see through pink one and the see through baby blue one.

"hey suguru." he calls out

suguru looks up from his phone and is slightly confused by where satoru's standing.

satoru has his chin in his hand, "which one do you think would look better on her."

suguru faintly gulps and quickly regains his normal calm confidence, slipping his phone back into his pocket.

"whichever one she'd feel the best in." his eyes smile for him

"oh don't be a prude," satoru gags before pestering him again, "really, pick one."

"why don't you pick satoru?"

"because I think both are too pretty." his eyes gleam, staring at both of the babydolls in question

suguru sighs then looks at you, who so happens to already be eyeing him down, eyes wide for a response.

"the pink one." he mutters quickly, eyes immediately darting away.

there's a loud sigh of relief from satoru when suguru finally makes a decision and you pick up the pink one sitting at the table.

"I think that's all for me," you breathe, skimming over the rest of the store quickly.

and before you make your way to the register line, you stop near suguru

"thank you sugu."

it's a Friday night that you've got all yourself the next month following the incident with those girls and suguru.

you've shaved, washed and blow dried your hair, did a thorough skincare routine, and put on the babydoll you bought last month.

you feel hot and have plans...in mind.

you've seen a little bit of stuff on twitter just for a spur

and there you are, sitting on your dildo, cheeks heated as you sit up and down on it.

you're unabashedly thinking about suguru.

truth be told, you haven't been able to get him off your mind since those schoolgirls planted the thought of that hot sex with him.

he's just so big and lean.

god

you remember satoru making you go with him to pester suguru while he worked out, considering his gym was next to his apartment complex and he had agreed to invite you both and shoko for a watch party of the scream movies that day.

he looked mad when he trained on his kickboxing, eyebrows furrowed and eyes dark on whatever he was taking out his strikes on.

you figured he'd make a similar face beating your pussy up.

that same trail of sweat making its way down his spine. thigh veins twitching all the same at the force he'd use on you.

"su-"

knock knock

the blood drains from your face and you immediately feel yourself getting dry

"oh my god, who's here at 10 p.m.?!" you whisper shout to yourself as you scram to put your dildo back in its hiding place and through your night robe on.

you take a breather and check through your door's peephole

a big blue eye meets yourself and zooms out when satoru leans back and reveals that suguru is also with him.

you open the door quickly, slightly angry.

"why are you guys here?"

you keep your eyes on satoru, afraid even looking at suguru would reveal somehow that you'd just been vividly imagining sitting on his dick.

satoru seems impressed as he looks at your very short night robe, thighs out in the open and he shrugs, raising a bag of fast food in his hand, "wanted to hang out with you."

unable to refute his friendly gesture, you move so that the both of them can come in.

"you were ready for bed early," he comments, setting down the food on your kitchen island.

"it's ten p.m. satoru." you sigh, spotting that they didn't get drinks, so you try to find some cups for the Diet Coke in your fridge.

you realize they're in a cupboard.

that you'd have to lean up to

you're about to ask satoru to help you, but he's far too focused in setting out the food for all of you and suguru's just there, standing watching you and satoru, mostly you, in awkward silence.

"um, suguru," you pipe

he fully turns his attention to you. argh, you didn't think having 100% percent of his attention would be so drastic than having 80% of it as opposed to earlier, but it did

"can you get some cups from here?" you point at the cupboard, "I'd get them but uh-"

you look down at your very short nightrobe and exposed skin and suguru's ears turn pink at the tips

"yeah, no problem." he says quickly, moving to open the cupboard and gets out three ceramic pink cups.

you, meanwhile, open your fridge and get the Diet Coke jug you've had chilling, thankful you put it in the top shelf and not the bottom, having avoided the risk of bending to get it.

you sit down next to suguru, unfortunately, since satoru took the single seat across.

"so," you start to pour drinks for all of you, "what were you guys up to before this?"

"nothing," satoru mumbles through a mouthful of fries, "we were supposed to watch t.v. at suguru's place but the internet went out in his building."

one of your brows raises, "and you came to hog my t.v.?"

"no," satoru glares at you a little, "the burger place was right by your place and I wanted to stop by."

"plus," he adds, "I didn't bank on you being ready for bed so early."

then something lights up in his head and he stares at you quizzically, a smirk forming, "were you getting off before we got here? is that why you're all dolled up and dressed for bed like you've got first name dil last name do coming over?"

"ugh," you groan, "gross, satoru!"

"shoko and I went with you to buy that eight inch purple girth monster," he laughs, "you were sooooooo on it."

you roll your eyes and decide to ignore him, taking a bite out of the burger in front of you.

"take it easy on her satoru," suguru swoops in softly to defend you, "I remember how disgruntled you were when I found you with the door open during our time as roommates."

"hey! we agreed to never mention that to anyone else!"

you start to laugh, embarrassment only a tinge less than it was before, thanks to suguru.

although their sudden presence had interrupted your orgasm, you looked forward to the moment in which they would leave.

but satoru somehow, being the annoying giant he is, finds a way to make suguru and him stay the night at your place.

"satoru, I don't think my back can support sharing this couch with you." suguru tries to reason

"oh come onnnnn, we've shared less at frat parties before" satoru chippers, beginning to roll himself into a ball in one of your blankets.

pitifully, you share a look with suguru and hand him a blanket.

"sleep well guys." you yawn before turning off the lights and heading to your room.

your very empty room.

and you can feel your panties dampening again.

no you shouldn't.

you get into your bed and stuff yourself under covers, hoping your body gets the message that it needs to sleep.

it doesn't

so you count sheep.

nope

force your eyes closed and hope it just knocks you out.

nope, you were in that weird limbo of sleep and no sleep.

you don't know how much time has passed but you assume its late enough that both of the boys are asleep, so you shoot up out of your bed and lean over to open your nightstand, flipping your covers off in the process.

the desperation never wore off, your panties were drenched and you didn't even have to play with yourself to spread your lubrication or open yourself up a little.

biting the bullet, you lift a leg up with one arm and use the other to press the head of your dildo inside.

your breathing was extra labored, but that was nothing compared to the moans you'd let out if your friends weren't sleeping in the room next door.

then you start fucking it into yourself slowly, inch by inch, and it feels oh so good. even if it was see through, you pull down the straps of your nightgown and let your tits out, letting the air hit them and put you in a further state of vulnerability.

then in a matters of seconds, you're pounding yourself as hard as you can without making a noise from either lips.

your eyes are rolling back and it's hitting that angle so well that-

the relief washed over you faster than expected, orgasm a little ruined because you wanted to relish in the feeling longer.

so there you are, dildo still inside, one hand over your stomach while you let your breathing go back to normal.

"I needed that anyways." you whisper to yourself, feeling your chest heaving up and down.

knock knock

"you've got to be fucking kidding me." you shriek to yourself in the quietest manner possible as you rapidly stash your dildo away and fix your nightgown back on.

you dash to your door and open it a little, only letting the top of your head and eyes peer through the side considering what you were wearing.

there's suguru, hair down and shirt ridden up just a little, face a little surprised at the way you opened the door

"yes?" you ask, quickly peering at his happy trail

"is it alright if I use the restroom?" he asks, a little sleepy

"yeah," you gulp, "just let me get back in bed so I'm not indecent when you come in."

"alright, just tell me when."

and you leap onto your bed, immediately tugging your cover on top of you.

"you can come in." you say meekly, hoping he can't see how disheveled you are. the moon was especially bright tonight and it always lit up your room nicely during nights like this.

suguru opens the door immediately and smiles at you a little as he walks towards your restroom.

you smile awkwardly back

he pees you assume, because you've barely seen three tiktoks on your phone by the time he comes out.

"did I wake you?" he asks while he approaches you on your bed, taking a seat at the end.

having him so near the spot where you just pummeled yourself to orgasm made you shiver a little in fear.

"no," you almost stutter and put your phone down, "I was struggling to sleep."

"so was I" he laughs a little, "satoru sleeps so selfishly."

and your blabber mouth, stupid fake facade that you aren't affected at all by him speaks up.

"you can sleep with me."

you're both caught by surprise at your offer except only suguru expresses it, his eyebrows have raised innocently

and you cough up another remark, "it's not like you can really see what I'm wearing and you can just turn to the other side."

"I don't want to make you uncomfortable-" he's about to get up

and you act so stupidly again

"I don't mind suguru, your body needs good rest with all the strain you put on it." and there you are, flipping the covers open from the other side of your bed and tapping it for him to get into.

hesitantly, he gets up from the end of your bed and walks towards the open spot, "are you sure?"

"yeah," you nod, other hand hidden under the cover and gripping the sheets under you, "we've slept cramped up next to each other on road trips. what's the difference with all this space?"

you both know the difference

but he slowly gets under the covers with you anyways, positioning himself on his back, stiff as a board as he looks up and tries not to look at you, well that's what it looks like and you understand why.

"I'm sorry if I snore." you peep, also staring up at the ceiling

suguru turns to look at you a little, "you snore?"

"I don't know..."you respond, following in his lead and peeking at him from the corner of your eyes, "but I'd be really embarrassed if I did."

"well, I'm sorry if I do too." he gives you a small smile, one of those tight lipped ones, no teeth, just the softness the moment in them.

then your phone suddenly starts ringing loudly.

and you scram to shut it off, putting your phone on night mode

"who was that?" suguru peers at you, neck turned more to look at you now.

you gulp, "some guy from paris. I should block him soon anyways."

"you were seeing each other?"

well you did go out with him various times and continuously stayed lots of nights with him. hell you even showered with him a couple times.

"hardly." you brush off

"shoko would talk about you always spending the night at a Claude's place. didn't you text her that you had to pay for your own uber once?" he said it so smoothly, without a thought

you shrink a little into the bed, "well yeah but I never saw him as something serious and we never sealed the deal. I didn't think you'd know about him..."

"shoko often aired out what you'd be texting her in the moment." he breathed, one arm behind his head as he went back to staring at the ceiling again.

"so you know about how hard I partied and stuff?" you asked, hoping that maybe they showed him all your selfies and outfits, casual and sexy.

"yes." he nodded

he seemed so serious and a hopeful part of you wanted to say he seemed...jealous?

does he think you saw a lot of guys on your nights out? what is he thinking?

"I liked it," you started, making the path for a way to comfort him if that was the case, "but I wasn't a big fan of having guys try to pull me to dance with them. I missed you and satoru being there to stop guys from hogging on me."

his ears perk up a little and he looks at you again, almost as if he's waiting for you to continue, so you do, stupidly but it was at attempt

"I'm just glad I'm back with you guys."

"I'm glad you're back too."

"you guys finally freak it?"

you get a sudden whiplash and wake up to find satoru standing at the end of your bed, one leg propped up on it while he brushes his teeth.

you lean up, making sure to cover yourself with the covers and notice the comfort of suguru's arm leaving your head.

HUH

you're at a distance from him, you would've definitely noticed his body pressed against yours, but he's turned in your direction, one long arm splayed out and oh my god

you had been using it as a pillow.

he starts to wake up too at satoru's sudden intrusion and squints sleepily at him, starting to stretch a little. the covers must've shoved off of him a little because you can see his v-line when he groans.

which reminds you that he must've not recalled/felt you on his arm just now. he probably would've been so awkward.

you calm yourself down enough and go back to looking at satoru.

"oh probably not." satoru, with a mouth full of toothpaste, mumbles without a shame after looking at suguru still being fully clothed and your reaction at sleeping on him

"satoru," your vision and brain is still blurry from waking up, "is that my toothbrush?!"

"no," he borbles offended before walking back into your restroom and beginning to clean his mouth out with water, "I have a go-go bag here."

"since when do you have a go-go bag here? and where the hell did you hide it?"

"since you left me your apartment key to take care of your place before leaving," he's already spit out the last of his toothpaste and is sassily walking back to you and suguru, "and I have it in your closet all the way at the top."

you fall back into your bed, rolling your eyes at his weirdness, "why do you still knock then?"

"I have manners?" he looks at you like you just asked a stupid question

"I found his bag in my laundry room." suguru sighs, running his hands through his face.

"well it's impossible to hide anything in your apartment considering we're the same height." satoru rolls his eyes, "haibara's like 5'10 so he can't see that I have mine at the top cupboard above his stove."

"normal habits follow you satoru," suguru sighs, flipping the covers off his lower half and standing up, "but you outrun it."

"track was my thing in high school." he shrugs

you haven't seen suguru since then. it's been two weeks and you've no sight of him. you were hoping he'd make an appearance at satoru's apartment today, seeing as he was hosting a House of the Dragon watch party.

"oh suguru? he's not coming," satoru shrugs as he plops onto his couch, next to shoko and tugs the bowl of popcorn from her, "he's working on his startup. something about a big client needing something by tomorrow."

then it's been another week, no sight of suguru with anyone at any hangout.

you don't feel that optimistic when haibara and satoru beg the group to show up to the club tonight, with pregaming at satoru's apartment.

you're dressed in a tight little white dress when you show up to satoru's apartment, clinging onto shoko's arm because of how cold it was.

and you feel so happy that you still put 100% of effort into getting ready because there was suguru, seated on one of satoru's couches, watching in amusement as haibara attempts to teach satoru how to make a negroni.

your own excitement blinds you and without thinking, you slip in past everyone and stand in front of him.

"I thought you wouldn't be coming tonight." you look at him in slight marvel, astonished that he finally made an appearance

he makes a face of surprise at you, well you think it's surprise at what you said. you probably came off too strong because his ears turned a little red. what else could it be?

god he was taking a little too long to respond. had he been trying to avoid you? was he-

"it wouldn't be gentlemanly of me to leave your protection solely up to satoru would it?"

and just like that his soothing voice brushes over your entire body

"it would not." you giggle a little when you sit next to him, hoping your perfume reaches him and relishing in the fact that his arm was already hung over the part of the couch you inhabited.

"but what have you been up to? I haven't seen you in a while."

suguru's eyes soften at your curiosity, and unbeknownst to you, his heart swelled at the fact that you noticed his absence.

"I've been finishing up a personal project of mine," he says warmly, "if all goes well, I'll probably come close to affording an apartment like satoru's soon."

affording an apartment like satoru's soon?

that's like

a lot of money

a lot

and why is him getting more money in his bank account making you fawn even harder for him

well, the stability, duh.

but you have to act cool

"are you sure you want to live in the same apartment complex as satoru gojo?" you tease?

"I said like," he shoves your leg a little with his own, "I don't think I would be able to stand living under the same roof as him again."

"well I don't think he could either," you giggle, "he says you're too much of a homebody and always say you have food at home."

suguru makes no attempt to defend himself and shakes his head instead at the complaint from his best friend, "I find it wrong to say I'm guilty when there's nothing guilty about cooking your own meals."

"are you good at cooking? I know you posted on your close friends about some meals here and there, but it's been a while since you deactivated your account."

"I'd like to think I'm good," he pauses, looking at you for a moment before continuing, "I'd make a pasta for you but I don't want to challenge the likes of Italy and France."

"now that just sounds like an excuse to not cook for me," you squint your eyes and scrunch your nose at him playfully

"I make no excuses," suguru drinks from the glass of water in his hand, eyeing you with the same playful aura, "I'll let you try if you want, but you can't make any comparisons."

"deal." you huff a little, reaching your hand out towards him.

"deal." he agrees, setting down his glass to shake your hand.

you don't drink a lot in the pregame

or at the club

something about suguru being there, sober, and able to control every moment makes you want to do the same.

so you're surprised that you're not at all even tipsy when you gently grab his hand and motion for him to dance with you amongst the crowd of your friends and other strangers.

it doesn't really feel awkward.

satoru's dragged you plenty of times to dance with him. haibara's kinda twerked on you a couple of times.

how is this any different?

at least that's how your mind approaches it, unphased by the sensual rnb music and your waist in suguru's hand.

when your arms reach around his neck eventually, you note he smells intoxicating, like amber and leather.

when you've known the club to normally be a place where you cause a ruckus with satoru and haibara, this is quite the opposite.

you didn't know you could feel so grounded

maybe it was the lack of alcohol to spur on the party animal in you, but this was fine. your brain felt woozy enough from breathing in suguru's cologne.

it's only when you feel a tap on your back that you and suguru are interrupted.

suguru juts his jaw for you to look behind and when you turn, there's shoko a lighter and a cigarette in her hands. you and suguru follow her outside for her smoke break, the bare minimum for her protection, a norm.

"how come you haven't been following satoru's pace tonight with the drinking?" she sighs melodically as she puts a cig in her mouth and cusps a hand around it while the other lights it.

"um," you avoid suguru's presence, feeling something that you just can't quite point your finger at, "I think im pmsing, so...I don't want to trigger any cramps with the drinking."

"fair enough." she blows out a puff of smoke as she says that

"and when are you going to ever drink again suguru?" she lets her head fall on her shoulder, lazy eyes looking at him.

"when are you going to stop smoking those?" he asks in return, leaning against the wall behind him and looking at the people in passerby considering this was a busy street during the night.

"soon." she shrugs

you and suguru exchange a look between each other at the response. shoko's been saying that since freshman year.

and your small moment is interrupted when you see a frantic utahime waving her hand, nanami and haibara holding up a very pale satoru between them as they walk out of the club and towards you guys.

the three of you meet them at the middle and utahime starts to explain.

"satoru threw up on this vip table trying to make it in time to the restroom..." a slight look of disgust on her face

"you guys know I can't stand the smell of cheap vape smokeeee~"he whines from between his two friends, body slumped over

"oh." you also grimace imagining the situation

"we're going to walk him back to his place." utahime tries to convey with sorry eyes that she's sad the night had to end like this

"it's okay." you say and turn to shoko, "are you going with them?"

her place was on the same side of town as theirs, and they were probably going to stay at satoru's anyway. he had more than three bedrooms and was always ready for sleepovers.

"yeah," she says, moving forward to poke at satoru's chest, almost as if he were a lab rat, "you guys fine to-"

"nice tits pretty girl!" you hear a holler next to your ear

and its some guy walking by with his two other friends, clearly inebriated but its also clearly not enough for him to blame the behavior on it. and his target couldn't be anymore obvious when he's making the nastiest eye contact with you, or more so your chest.

"come again?" suguru says sternly at him, he didn't yell but...

you could hear him well and clear alright.

the guy stops walking and turns to you and suguru, speaking with a sassy stupor, "I said her tits were nice."

you look up behind you and suguru is biting his cheek, something you've never seen from him. you can tell he's mad and so can the other guy.

"you her boyfriend or something?" he smirks, relishing in the way suguru scowls at him as he nears the both of you, "if you're not saying shit ill fuck her little pussy right in front of-"

BAM!

multiple oohs are heard when suguru sucker punches him. and height is the only thing that helps your offender, because he does manage to stay up and land a punch to suguru's nose.

but before you can react and head over to check on him, like lightning, the guy is the ground after suguru hands him an uppercut.

and there goes satoru, vomiting on the side of the road too.

which you don't seem phased by because suguru just defended your honor, and won, so quickly.

but you're also really worried because his nose is bleeding when he turns around.

ignoring the pain of your heels finally setting in, you click clack over to him and move the hand he's using to grab at his nose so you can inspect him.

you're not sure if he can tell you're somewhere between feeling lusty and worried when he looks down at you, but he looks serious still as he makes eye contact with you.

and satoru barfs even more

"I can't handle blooddddd~" he cries which ushers a panicked utahime into calling shoko over and asking if you'd be fine heading back with suguru, making sure he's fine at the end of it.

when they start heading off, you pull out your phone from your purse, "let me get us an uber to your place."

your hands are shaking a little in adrenaline and you jump a little when suguru swipes your phone from your hand and hands you his, uber app already open.

he's continuously wiping his nose as he painfully murmurs, "not letting you leave my place alone, I'll drop you off at yours first, put your address, I'll pay."

worriedly, you want to deny him, but the thought is intimidated out of you when he stares you down.

"ok-okay." you speak a little shakily

so much for you thinking you'd be cool and calm in a situation like this.

you dragged suguru into your apartment the moment you got to your place. you had finally noticed the small cut on his nose bridge and near his eye and really insisted on patching him up.

you also were scared that he'd somehow get a brain bleed and die on the way home out of sheer anxiety. so you wanted to keep an eye on him for a while to keep your mind at ease.

suguru is sitting at the edge of your bed, watching as you rummage through your restroom for your first aid kid. and when you finally find it, you're rushing to him and setting it down next to him, beginning to filter through it for the alcohol wipes.

"close your eyes," you ask breathlessly, still feeling the after effects of your adrenaline, "I don't want to irritate your eyes accidentally."

suguru listens to you and closes his eyes, a slight grimace already on his face in preparation for the sting you're about to bring to his cuts.

he hisses a little when you press on them

"sorry."

"it's okay." his eyes scrunch a little and you can see his hand on his lap, opening and closing as a reflex to the sting.

then you take out the antibiotic ointment to start spreading a little on his wounds. his body relaxes a little when he sees that the bothersome part is over and he keeps his eyes open, watching you.

you feel so hot under his gaze, you can't help but blabber when you're in the process of putting cream on his nose bridge

"you really have been putting the work in at kickboxing huh." you say awkwardly, trying to do a fake laugh, but

"did I scare you?"

suguru's burning a hole into your face with how intensely he's looking at you

you almost choke on your breath

"no."

"you were shaking when you were typing your address on my phone."

oh he noticed

you didn't want him to misunderstand

"well you didn't scare me, but I was scared for you, still am. I don't want you to drop dead on the street." you answer a little shakily, having forgotten to reach for the small bandaids.

"besides what girl gets scared of the guy who defends her honor..." you add

"shoko almost gagged when nanami made a guy apologize to her." he quips

"well that's shoko," you shrug and look off to the side, "I liked it."

you're about to reach for the bandaids when his hand on is holding onto one of your arms, gentle but it sustains all your attention.

"what do you mean?"

"well we all know shoko's a lesb-"

"no, when you said you liked it."

explaining that to him is complicated. when you said that you liked it you know that you mean that your panties got a little sticky watching him spit out blood that tried to seep into his mouth from his nose. the memory makes you subconsciously rub your thighs together. but you'll just brush it off as a normal like, as in it flattered you.

unbeknownst to you, suguru spotted the movement between your legs.

"it was flatte-"

"then why do you look so nervous trying to tell me that?"

a bit exasperated and heavily flustered, you stomp your foot a little and avoid looking at him, "suguru, please stop. you're making me nervous."

"what's there to be nervous about?"

"we're just friends." he adds

and his eyes light up watching when your own shoot towards him, your offense front and center.

and for the first time, you can see how he looks at you with so much yearning?

"am I wrong?"

christ, has he always looked at you with this much desire?

you're speechless and even though the signs are pointing towards the obvious, you still form a sentence that spares your feelings.

"do you want to be wrong?"

"yeah."

you feel shaky again

and it's not because you're scared.

"can you please stop looking at me like that?" you beg, avoiding his eyes again, almost about to hyperventilate from the pressure his stare is putting on you.

he grabs your other hand and leers you close to him, breath tickling your neck since you're so stubborn on not looking at him.

"do you still want to be friends?" he asks

and even though it sounds seductive and suave, you can make out the slight genuine yearning to know if that's what you want.

so you look at him again, trying to swallow the nervous lump in your throat

"you know how I feel." you plead

"no I don't," he laughs a little painfully, "I've never said anything because I don't know, so tell me."

you stare at each other for a while, his patience everlasting as you muster up the courage to say something that shouldn't be so embarrassing.

"I don't want to be friends."

"do you want me to go home?" he asks, thumbs rubbing circles on your wrists.

and its the quickest answer you've given him so far

"no."

and you want it

bad.

so so so bad.

but you have to get the question off of your chest.

"what-what do you want to be?"

"each other's if you'll have me." he breathes, looking up at you still

he's saying all the right things. and he's here. you're freshly shaved and waxed and wearing the hottest lingerie under this. fucking hell you wouldn't even need foreplay to take him right now, you're preening at the thought of having him.

"do you think satoru packs condoms in his go-go bag?"

it just slips out of your mouth so easily and you want to be embarrassed, but you're to eager for that.

"I know he does." suguru gets up quickly, eyes darting to your closet and then to you, "are you sure?"

and it's like some sort of instincts take over because you take the hands that are holding yours and place them on your tits, motioning for him to squeeze them.

"I'm really sure."

the action has him baffled, a pink flush face you've never seen on him while he stands there taken aback. it gives you a little confidence to remove his hands and take off your dress. then you let him watch as you get on the bed, sitting on your heels as you take his hands in yours again to plead.

"I want you in me suguru."

"fuck." he curses, before rushing towards your closet and yanking the infamous go-go bag and tossing it next to the bed. he starts to take his shirt off soon after, immediately reaching for your face when he gets into the bed with you

he's a sensual kisser. sensual as in you're pretty sure it'd be illegal to kiss him in public.

he kisses like he's fucking your mouth with his own. and it has you shivering into his touch, pussy aching for him to fill you up.

you pull him in by the belt loops of his jeans and whine, "take it out please."

your words make him groan into your mouth and he reaches one hand down to help yours unzipper his pants and push them down.

you feel his raw length slap across and press onto your mound when he grinds against you

"you haven't done this before right." he almost says darkly as he stares down at where your bodies would be meeting soon.

"no." you moan, watching him as he stuffs his dick under your panties and slides it back and forth on your pussy lips.

he shivers at the contact and dips his head into your neck, mouthing and biting at the skin there, "fuck, you're actually drenched."

and for a moment, you both get rigid at the euphoric feeling of his tip catching on your hole so easily.

"I'm not sure I'm going to last long with you right now," he all but exhales shakily, hips still moving back and forth against you

"that's fine, just keep going."

and he's about to reach over in the bag for a condom when your lust takes over so much that you stop him and line him up with your hole.

"just do it like that please."

he moans as your ministrations and looks at you for reassurance, "are you sure?"

you can tell he's fighting so hard not to move

"just use my pussy please suguru, I need it so bad." you complain, reaching down to pull your panties further to the side, chest heaving from carnal need for him.

suguru leans closer to pull your see through bra down, and begins to suck harshly on one of your nipples when he starts bullying his cock into you.

you can feel every vein when he starts to sink into you and fuck, his tip is so snug and big, the feeling of it ridging against your insides every time he brings it in and out is dizzying.

you're so focused on the feeling of his thick dick filling you up that you've barely noticed how suguru's folded your legs back. both of you now entranced in the way he's balls deep in you, a loud wet pap sound accompanying every thrust of his.

"you like that sweet girl?" he heaves through deep fast thrusts, mesmerized by the way your stomach moves just a little every time he bottoms out.

words aren't something you're capable of right now because when you try to respond, all you let out is shriek

this is nothing compared to the way you've tried to pummel yourself with your dildo. his hands are everywhere and he's got you right where he wants you. you can't escape him.

and when you thought he couldn't his pace and force grows stronger.

you're basically screaming now.

"yesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyes." is all you can say, so dumb on his cock that you can't help but want more and more

"fuck, don't talk like that," he groans, almost as if to himself, "I'm gonna end up creaming your pussy if you keep that up."

"cream it please." you beg loudly, "wanna feel us get messy."

your tongue is basically salivating at the though of his balls coated in cum and slapping against your clit, strings of mess forming from how intense it is.

and he starts twitching into you, rushing to kiss you as he pumps inside of you. thank goodness, it feels like its spilling out of you in heaps.

you're so happy, so so happy.

"let's do doggy yeah?" you pull him in by wrapping an arm around his neck, grinding your hips against him for more

"whatever you want," he nearly whines, pulling out of you just so he can flip you over and push your back down.

you feel hornier like this, pussy more exposed and growing needier with the feeling of his cum seeping out of you. it makes you wiggle your ass for him to fuck you more already.

and without warning he does just that, slipping into you again and gripping your ass so hard when he starts using you like a fleshlight.

"fuck, yesyesyesyesyesyesyesyes," he mumbles to himself, "tiny fucking wet pussy. love it so fucking much. fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck."

you're thoughtless, just utterly brain dead from how hard he's going on you, from how much your pussy is getting split open again and again.

this goes on for hours, so many positions covered by you and suguru. foreplay was never involved at all during that time, neither of you wanting to go without feeling each other so crudely connected for more than a second.

you actually fall asleep cockwarming him even, the both of you too stubborn to stop that you fell asleep still trying to get it on.

neither you or suguru hear the jingle of your apartment door being opened later that day. both too fucked out and tired to wake up.

but you do hear when the door to your own bedroom opens, and suguru quickly gets on the defensive, covering you with your bedsheets and about to-

"satoru!" you both yell.

"woah," you hear laughing through the door, "you guys really stayed up all night fucking? everybody's been calling you guys since two."

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