#i've been dying to talk about it for a hot minute
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bridgeportbritt · 2 years ago
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SimDonia Royals and Natural Hair
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Prompted by today's post, I figure it's a great time to talk about natural hair and why the SimDonia monarchy doesn't allow it. So buckle up for some SimDonia lore.
You may have noticed that although the SimDonia Royals are majority black, the black women almost never wear their curly hair in public. Especially for events and portraits and such, it's always straight hair.
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There is a reason for this. But first a little background on natural hair for those who don't know.
Basically many black people have naturally curly/kiny hair. Throughout Western history, black people especially women have been discriminated against for their hair. Natural hair has been deemed unprofessional, unkept, messy, etc. This has caused many black women for centuries to turn to products like relaxers (chemically straightens hair), hot combs (like a flat iron), flat irons, wigs, etc. to achieve the straight hair that was deemed appropriate. There's some basic context for you. Now, let's get into SimDonia history.
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We mainly have these two women to thank for the hair politics we see with SimDonia Royals today (note that I'm saying royals and not society as a whole. Royals run by totally different rules than regular folk).
On the left, we have SimDonia's first Queen, Queen Ophelia. While on the right, we have SimDonia's second Queen, Queen Katherine. Both Queen's by marriage.
As we can see, Queen Ophelia is white and she has naturally straight hair. Ophelia's legacy is one of the most famous and highly respected of any Queen. She was the first after all and paved the way for how tradition was set for the other royals, especially women. Basically, she became the standard for many things from etiquette to fashion and even hair. Royal women have emulated her style for years to the point where other styles are deemed prohibited.
Then you bring in Queen Katherine who had the worst legacy of any Queen since her husband abdicated from the throne. As you can see, she is black and she has naturally curly hair. She was also never afraid to wear it even in portraits and such. But since her legacy was tarnished there are things that royals don't do because of her. Some of her tiaras aren't to be worn, her jewelry, and unfortunately her curly hair.
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Now of course, SimDonia royals fashion royals have never truly been set in stone. The expectations have always been unwritten until now. So, you will see it from time to time like when Diana brought the curls out on her world tour in Sulani or when Bria wore her curly hair on The Style Report during the swimwear episode. We often see Ella and Lillian wearing her curls from since rules are less strict on minors/non-senior members.
However, it is more set in stone with Diana's new rules that hair should be "still and neat" and "in place at all times" implying that curly hair is not allowed. So, we shall see where things land. More to come!
Thanks to @crownsofesha for that amazing photo of Bria and Emmitt for an event coming up!
And @storiesbyjes2g for opening up the pandora's box in my head one more time lol
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silverselfshippingchaos · 2 months ago
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pals listen I know he like. Attempted murder in this scene, but...
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cherryyluvs · 13 days ago
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Backseat Tension
synopsis: a cramped car, too little space, and Mark’s lap becomes your seat.
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˖ ── Mark G. x fem!reader | warning: NSFW, public tension, heavy makeout, semi-exhibitionism, dry humping, messy kissing, grinding, teasing, mild voyeurism
You don't even remember how it happened or how the hell you ended up in Mark's lap. Something about there not being enough space, and him saying “You can just sit here.” Like it was no big deal.
The car ride was cramped, squished in the back with bags and boxes from Rick helping William move into his new college dorm. You tried to squeeze into a corner, but there wasn't enough room. Not with all the stuff piled in the backseat. Boxes of books, bags of clothes, and a few random things that Rick hadn't packed right. The space was a mess, leaving you no choice but to sit on Mark’s lap.
Now here you are.
Stuffed in the backseat, on his thighs. Not only that.
It's hot.
No windows down, no nothing. The Ac in the front is blasting but you couldn't feel it, but you could feel his hands resting low on your waist. His breath warm against the side of your neck.
And every bump in the road has you feeling him.
The tension is insane.
You try not to move and ignore the way his thighs shifted beneath you. Your shorts are definitely not doing a good job of separating the two of you.
You feel him,
God, you feel everything.
Ignoring those dirty thoughts of what would happen if you just had five minutes alone. Ignoring how his hands have slid a little lower or how his fingers twitch, like he's fighting every instinct not to pull you closer. His lips ghosting over your shoulder, just enough to make you shiv–
“Is everything good back there?” William’s voice suddenly cuts through the silence.
You froze
Mark stiffens under you.
You sit up straight, way too fast. “Y-Yeah! All good! Great, even.”
Rick glances at William with a sly smirk. “You sure? Kinda quiet back there..” You swear you hear William snort.
Mark pressed his face into your shoulder, biting back a groan. “They know,” he mutters under his breath.
You whisper, “Do you have to be this close?”
“I'm not doing anything” he lies through his teeth, but the grip on your waist tightens just slightly. You can feel how hard his breathing is, how hard he is beneath you. You pretend not to notice the bulge underneath you.
Another bump in the road. Mark lets out a shaky breath, his lips ghosting your skin. “Stop moving so much.”
You glanced towards the front seat. Rick is adjusting the music, but William? He's peeking in the rearview mirror with a knowing look. “Beheave back there” William says in a playful voice. “Or we’re kicking you out.”
Mark leans in closer, whispering to you. “We wouldn't even make it to the sidewalk.” You know he's teasing but his voice, the way he said and how he's looking at you, like he means it.
You swallow hard and try to focus on anything else, the road, the music, the way William and Rick are bickering over directions.
But all you can feel is Mark.
The second William pulls into the gas station, you know.
Oh you know.
Rick’s talking about snacks, asking if anyone wants something from inside the gas station and Williams’s too busy reading the pump instructions like he doesn't already know how gas works. But Mark has that look. Ready to pounce on you look.
“You stayin in the car?” He asks in a low voice. Your heart skips a beat. “Yeah. Why?” Mark doesn't answer. Not with words anyways.
You shiver at his touch, his hands move higher. Cupping your breasts through the thin fabric of your shirt. “They'll be gone for five minutes.” Pulling you closer, “And I've been dying for hours.”
You try to say something clever but he captures your lips in a slow, deep kiss. His mouth moving against yours with a hunger that takes your breath away. His tongue slipping past your parted lips to explore every inch of your mouth.
Hard and needy.
You moan into the kiss, your hands tangled all in his hair. The kiss is messy and sloppy. The car rocks slightly, just a little at first but enough for you to pull back. "Mark–"
“They can’t see us,” he cuts in, voice thick, eyes half lidded. “Windows are foggy and you're shaking.”
You are. You haven't even noticed and the worst part? You don't want to stop. “Look at you” He breathes heavily. “You wanna get caught don't you?” You can feel your arousal building up, your panties soaked with your juices. “Shut up,”
The car creaks and rocks with every shift of your hips.
You try not to moan. His mouth sucking on your breast while his hands fondles and pinches your nipple. Grinding on his thighs, letting out a sound you couldn't even describe, feeling the urgency. You reach down, fumbling with the button of his jeans.
Desperate to feel his skin against yours.
And then–
A muffled voice from outside. “Yo Mark! You want a drink?” William’s shouting from the gas station door. You stopped. Lips swollen, legs trembling.
Mark bites back a groan, forehead pressed against yours. “If he comes back right now. I swear im-”
You slap his chest. “Get it together!”
He chuckles. “You're the one on top babe,”
You cleared your throat. “Red slushie” you said, voice barely steady.
“We’re not even halfway done.” He whispered.
And he was right, you were nowhere near finished.
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elllisaaa · 7 months ago
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THINK AABOUT THIS
horny bsfheeseung who can't control himself when he's with you and eventually ends up fucking you on a rainy night
i'm thinking about it yes, because imagine HORNY BSF!HEESEUNG who was only supposed to come spend the afternoon at your place and watch a film with you. it was a cold day, so you were wearing a hoodie three times too big for you, some shorts and your warmest socks. you had already set up the couch - cozy blankets prepared for you, snacks and drinks scattered all over your table. and you were just so excited about finally spending time with him that heeseung felt really guilty about the way he couldn't help feeling hot under the collar when you hugged him and dragged him to the couch, snuggling up against him because you were freezing.
you put on the film, but heeseung cannot focus on it at all. everytime he tries to look at the tv screen, his eyes are drawn back to you - to your pretty face, pretty eyes, and pretty lips that he's dying to kiss. he's not usually this bothered around you, he has self-control, but there's just something about you today and the way your scent intoxicates him more than usual that makes him hard in his sweatpants. but it's okay, heeseung thinks, he just has to go through the movie without being suspicious and then he can go home.
wrong. not even halfway through the film, rain starts pouring outside. and it doesn't seem to stop. its raining so much that when the movie ends, you decide that it's too dangerous for heeseung to take his car to go home now. "but it's okay, you sleep here." and heeseung wants to say no, because he knows that if he stays in your presence one more minute, he's going to lose control. but you're actually right, he cannot drive in this weather.
so heeseung tries to not look at your ass too much as you bend down to get him another pillow so he can sleep on your couch comfortably. and he tries to not get distracted by the way he can still see the outline of your boobs, even under your oversized sweater. it's hard - and he's very hard by now - but he really tries. he's aware you're just being sweet, he's aware that you're not feeling the same as him, he's aware that he's being pathetic, but just cannot stop himself when you bend down again in your tight shorts to pick up a pack of gummies that fell to the floor.
"fuck, y/n, can you stop doing this ?" you turn around, the bag of candies in your hands and a clueless look on your face as you plant your innocent gaze into heeseung's lustful one. "stop doing what hee ?" - "bending over like this, showing me your pretty ass. that is if you don't want me to fuck you, baby." he eats up the way your cheeks immediately grow red, mouth opening and closing without knowing what to say anymore. the smirk on his face widens as he gets closer and you don't back out, dropping back the sweets once he wraps his arms around your waist. "so, what do you say ?" his lips are brushing against yours with how close he is, but you don't mind it, you just him to kiss you now. "yes, please."
heeseung doesn't waste any more time talking before he grabs you by your neck to pull in a kiss that leaves dazed, your mind blank, breath short from how good his tongue alone makes you feel. he chuckles when you chase his lips, fists closing around the fabric of his tee. "you want more ?" - "heeseung, please, don't tease me… i've waited for this long enough." the realization that you had been wanting just as bad is what sends heeseung far away, too far away to have control over himself anymore. "shit, i'm sorry princess, i'm gonna make it up, yeah ?" you nod and the next thing you know is that heeseung has you bend over for him on the couch, your shorts and underwear pulled down just enough so that he can push his cock inside of you.
"feeling so good baby, knew you would, i knew you would be perfect for me." you only moan louder at his words, trying to keep a bit of sanity as heeseung pounds into you like an animal. but in the end you don't mind the way his hand presses against your lower back, under your hoodie that he didn't take the time to throw away, forcing your back to arch even more, his cock hitting even deeper into you. "hee ! i'm close, i'm close please…" - "gonna make you cum all over my dick and then fill you up. everybody's gonna know you're mine this way."
and you don't deny, because in the end that's what you want. as you come down from your high, slowly opening your eyes that fall on the raindrops hitting your windows, you wonder if he really means it. "shit… you're still so tight baby, makes me want to fuck you again." you only whine at his words, letting him grab your hair and yank your head back. and you don't dare ask him what's gonna happen after, you just want to enjoy the way he's making you feel a little longer.
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velvetlilith777 · 5 months ago
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spreading the gospel because i think this combined with his after marriage dialogue make people think he's never affectionate like that towards you which just - isn't true. just because he takes some space sometimes doesn't mean that he isn't capable of wanting you near/being touchy.
Something that baffles me off is that people tend to think that Sebastian would not show affection in public once he's dating. One thing that I've learned from his character is that he does not care about what people think about him. Being shy and being introverted are two different things. If he feels like touching you, he will. And he'll be especially touchy when you play pool with him with the excuse that 'he's teaching you'.
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whump-imagines · 5 months ago
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Stomach Flu
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Buddie x reader
Wc: 1700 ish
You laid in bed trying desperately to fall asleep. Some kind of stomach flu had found you and was clearly trying to kill you. All night you’d been fighting blankets because you'd be hot and then freezing and then hot again. And when you'd thought maybe you'd gotten comfortable the nausea would hit.
The toilet was your new best friend. You’d spent a decent amount of time clinging to the bowl for dear life. It was worse than any bad night of drinking you had ever had.
So now you were momentarily a comfortable temperature and not as nauseous so you didn't dare move as you begged for sleep to come.
Next thing you know the bed is jostled aggressively as Buck jumps onto the mattress and asks, “You're still in bed?”
The sudden movement sends a jolt of pain through your skull and nearly causes you to puke. You launch yourself out of bed and into the bathroom. Falling to your knees, you empty the non-existent contents of your stomach.
Eddie is knelt beside you a moment later. He takes your hair in one hand and rubs your back with the other.
“Ugh. My best friend, we meet again,” you mumble into the toilet bowl.
“Again?” Eddie asks. “What do you mean again?”
Rolling your forehead across the arm supporting your head, you glance at him and notice Buck in the doorway. “Well this is like the thousandth time I've been here since yesterday. I think I'm dying.”
Eddie runs his hand over your head then presses the back of his hand to your forehead. “Baby, why didn't you call us?”
“You were working. I didn't think I needed help puking my guts out.”
“One of us could have come home,” Buck says. “Or we could have brought supplies home.”
“Supplies?”
“Soup, Tylenol, tissues, maybe…” Buck listed.
“I'd just puke it back up. Everything in comes right back out.”
“Alright, are you done for now? Do you want head back to bed?” Eddie asks.
“Moving makes me more nauseous. And my head hurts.”
“Have you had any water?” Eddie asks.
“Tried. Failed.” You lean back and the world spins. “This sucks.”
Eddie shifts you so you can relax back into him. “I bet. We're going to get you back into bed and get a bucket so you don't have to come lay on the floor in here anymore. Okay?”
“‘Kay.” You snuggle into him, enjoying his warmth.
Eddie manages to get up and lift you without too much jostling. “Can you go lay on the bed and I'll give her to you?” He asks Buck.
“Okay.” You hear the jingle of Buck’s belt and then the clank of it hitting the floor. Next, your set gently on the bed cuddled close to Buck, his arm your pillow.
“You're warm,” you announce and you press yourself even closer and move your head into his chest.
“I'll be back soon,” Eddie says. “Try to get some sleep if you can.”
You whine, not wanting him to leave. “Where are you going?”
“Back to the station. We need an IV kit, fluids, zofran, and probably Tylenol.”
“I don't want an IV.”
“Sweetheart, you're very dehydrated,” Eddie explains. “If you can't keep down water then you need the IV.”
You sigh. “Fine.”
Buck chuckles and presses a kiss to the top of your head.
Eddie leans over and kisses your head then a quick parting kiss to Buck’s lips. “Love you guys. I'll be quick.”
“We love you, too.” Buck says.
A minute later you hear Eddie’s keys jingle and then the front door open and close.
“Sorry I woke you like that earlier.”
You snort a laugh. “Not your fault, you didn't know.”
He runs his fingers up and down your side and shoulder in random patterns. “Try to sleep,” he suggests.
“Can you tell me a story?” you ask.
“What kind of story?”
“I don't care. It's just soothing to hear you talk,” you tell him. “Might help me sleep.”
He starts to tell you all about flamingos because he knows how much you love them. He explains everything from how they get their color to their migration patterns and before long you feel yourself sinking into a peaceful sleep.
You wake to the sounds of Buck and Eddie laughing. You can tell they’re trying to be quiet but the giggles are shaking you and the whole bed. “What's so funny?”
“Crap. Sorry, we didn't mean to wake you,” Buck says.
“It's fine. I need to pee anyway.” You shift to roll onto your back but end up leaned against Eddie. “You didn't tell me what was funny.”
“Just a dumb video on TikTok,” Eddie explains. “How're you feeling?”
You take a moment to consider your answer. Your head still hurts but not as much. You still have nausea but it's much more bearable. “Shitty, but kind of better.”
Buck rolls and then stands before offering you a hand. “Come on.”
“Where are we going?” You reach over to take his hand, noticing the IV line for the first time. “I slept through that?”
“Bathroom,” Buck answers.
“Exhaustion will do that,” Eddie answers your second question.
Buck helps you up and your muscles protest the change in position. He wraps an arm around your waist as you sway slightly.
You take a deep breath and blow it out. “I'm good. Let's go.”
Eddie stands and grabs the bag of fluids you hadn't noticed hanging on a command hook on the wall.
All three of you head to the bathroom together and as you sit you look around. “I like this view of the bathroom much better than the other.”
“I prefer this, too,” Eddie says. “Especially the knowing you're not as dehydrated.”
“Yeah, you already look so much better than this morning,” Buck adds.
You slowly make your way back to the bed and as you're making yourself comfortable you catch a glimpse of the clock. “Holy crap! How is it almost 11?”
They both just chuckle. “That's what happens when you sleep for three hours,” Eddie explains.
“I think that's more sleep than I got total all night. Guess I needed a better pillow,” you laugh as you look at Buck.
“You could have had that all night if you'd called us. I'm going to go make you some soup,” Buck announces as he leaves the room.
“I'm not hungry.”
Eddie sits down beside you. “You have to try a few bites at least, okay?”
You pout at him. “I don't want to puke anymore.”
“You shouldn't. I gave you some zofran,” he tries to sooth you.
“Fine.” You roll your eyes “But you better have that bucket close by.”
He presses a kiss to your forehead. “It's on the floor right here, but you're not going to need it.”
“You're awfully optimistic given that I'm still nauseous.”
“You said you felt better,” he chastises. “Is it still as bad?”
Leaning back into him, you explain, “I said I feel shitty. Shitty is better than feeling like death. I'm less nauseous, but still nauseous.”
“I'm sorry you feel shitty,” he intertwines his fingers with yours and lifts it to kiss your knuckles. “The soup should help you feel less shitty. Hopefully you're just nauseous because you have nothing in your system. So just try a few bites, okay?”
Buck returns with a tray in his hands. “I have soup, the old fashioned chicken noodle just like you like. I also have saltine crackers, oyster crackers, sprite, and water.” He sets the tray in front of you and then leans in to kiss you.
You pull away quickly. “Don't kiss me. You'll catch this plague.”
“I'll risk it.”
You lift the spoon and drink a spoonful of the broth and then you pause, waiting for the nausea to get worse. When it doesn't, you continue slowly with more broth and then eventually the noodles and a couple crackers.
Eventually you manage to eat almost half the soup and a few sips of water before you set the spoon down. “I'm done. I can't handle any more right now.”
“That's fine. You ate way more than I expected,” Eddie says.
Buck takes the water and sprite off the tray and sets them on the bedside table before taking the rest away.
“Can I have my hand back yet?” You lift the hand with the IV line and give him your best pouty face.
He shakes his head. “No. I will unhook the fluids when that bag is gone but I want to keep the IV lock for now until we're sure you're going to keep all that down.”
You roll your eyes. “Fiiiiine.”
He laughs. “Do you want me to have to poke you again if you do puke more?”
You stick your tongue out at him. “No.”
“Thought so.” He boops your nose. “Glad to see you're feeling better.”
Buck returns and snuggles in beside you on the bed. “You want to pick a movie to nap through?”
You smiled and they both groaned. “Sleeping Beauty! Oh, wait, Enchanted… no, I actually want to be awake for that. Sleeping Beauty for sure.”
“Why do you make us watch princess movies when you know you're only going to watch ten minutes?” Buck complained.
“Because it's fun.” You shrugged. “Plus, then I get to dream I'm a princess.”
Buck raises an eyebrow. “Are you saying that if we switch to football as soon as you're asleep you're going to dream about that?”
“Probably.”
“Sleeping Beauty on one condition…” Eddie started.
“What?” you asked.
“Next time you get sick while we're at work, you call us immediately.”
“No,” you argued. “Because there won't be a next time. This is awful. I don't want a repeat.”
“Fine. If! If by some small chance it happens or if you just get the sniffles… you call.”
“Deal.”
Eddie gets the movie set up and you make yourself comfortable. This time you use Eddie as a body pillow and Buck drapes his arm over your waist.
The movie starts and you almost instantly feel yourself drifting. “Love you guys.” You mumble as you close your eyes.
They chorus an “I love you too,” as you fall into a dreamless slumber.
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stunie · 10 months ago
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what are ur headcanons for hoshina and kafka? not like fic hc but just like things you think fit them???? i've read up to volume two and just started watching it (lit watching episode 1 rn) and am curious
if we're talking nsfw tho, imho kafka would so do worship/praise. man's single and in his 30s. touches a titty and is just thankful for the opportunity DFLDJSFdsFJ
note: ok wait i haven’t done this type of lil paragraph thing in a while :’) but also omg euphie i’ve been dying to talk about them! (more specifically, hoshina has kinda been lurking in the back of my mind for a bit). also, if u wanted sfw ones too lemme know !! & btw i am also so so so excited for u to see a certain scene w hoshina <33
mdni. explicit smut (18+). 600 wc. f!reader
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SOSHIRO HOSHINA.
Hoshina is a huge tease. I mean this as … he’ll decide to give you your usual morning kiss a little more passionate than usual- just enough to get your stomach all hot, but he doesn’t do anything past that. Except throughout the day, you think it’s kind of weird that he keeps accidentally brushing against you, crotch coincidentally pushing against the swell of your ass multiple times, but it’s not hard enough for you to be able to tell if it was deliberate. By the end of the day, you’re practically throwing yourself on him, to which he responds with “Ah— you’re a needy one, aren’t you?”
Also likes risk to some extent. After filling you up with his cum, he has you pull up your panties and go about your day. The sight of you all feverish and awkwardly rubbing your thighs together to try and keep his cum from dripping down your thighs really gets him going, and he’s not against the idea of leaning down every now and then to whisper what he’s planning on doing to you tonight— straight into the shell of your ear, and sometimes he’ll give it a teasing bite before he’s right back to normal. Honestly just likes the process and feeling he gets from getting you all pent up and needy.
Of course, edging. Absolutely thrives on the sound of your voice begging him to stop teasing and just give you what you need. It’s even more exciting when he listens to you, except now he gives you too much— and now you’re whining that you can’t take it, to which he reminds you that it was your idea from the start.
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KAFKA HIBINO.
Has the nastiest breeding kink. I think he’d be weak from anything relating to this (i.e. is losing it when you’re soaked, when you squirt, when he cums on you, even the noises your sopping cunt makes from each thrust). Also drunk on the idea of just filling you to the brim, but more so because he just loves to watch his cum spill out of your cunt. Likes to dump it deep inside you, watch it leak out, then his finger comes to smear it with your own slick, pushing it back inside before he asks if you’re okay with another round.
Also … scratching. you asked him to put you in a mating press just once, and as soon as your nails first dug into his shoulders at the initial stretch, he knew it was over for him. He’s practically growling each time your nails rack up and down the muscles of his back, slamming his hips into you harder because he wants you to do that again and again. Also a sucker for when your legs wrap around him to pull him deeper inside you.
And i agree with the praise. I can picture him looming over you with a strong hand cradling your head against the crook of his neck. He’s completely breathless, but he’s still reminding you through a grunt every few minutes that you look so fucking good under him.
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http-tokki · 11 months ago
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ʚ⁺˖ ↠ blue
ᰔ pairings: dabi/touya todoroki x fem!reader ᰔ content/tags: mha spoilers, childhood pov, abusive childhoods, childhood crush, blood, allusions to self harm/suicide, explicit language, smut, kinda not really, its smutty talk, angst, allusions to s/a, power dynamics, time jump to when touya is like 26, creative liberties have been taken with the original story, set in the century 2400 ᰔ wc: 10.5k ᰔ a/n: so there is a bit of a weird timeline with this one. instead of touya dying at 13, I've made it he dies at 16 and the subsequent events are a lil delayed, in the manga he is 24 atm but here i have him as 26, please suspend your disbelief for a sec cause the amount of work ive put into this so it makes sense, i almost went crazy
March 10th 2460 Touya: aged nine You: aged eight (and three-quarters)
Breakfast is at five, lunch at twelve, and dinner at seven.
The clock hands tick over the first five graduations and onto the sixth, meaning it is six minutes past seven and dinner is late.
Lateness is not tolerated by the Todoroki clan.
No reason, whether it be big or small, would be accepted nor understood by the head of the family, and punishment for being tardy ranged from groundings to lectures and in the most severe cases, a beating. However, those parameters do not extend to said head, who you think to be more akin to that of a prison warden than a father.
You watch the housekeeper slide the last of the food onto the table and take another look at the clock.
7:08.
The table had been set, food diligently prepared and presented, plates piled high with greens and dripping meat, three different kinds of fish, an array of soups, and other liquid foods. Mrs Todoroki often had trouble eating, so instead opted for warm broths and hot teas, and they were all going cold while you waited for Mr Todoroki to come in from Touya’s nightly training. Saliva coats your tongue as you breathe in the heavenly scents wafting from the mountains of food, your stomach growling in protest at not being filled with the delicious smells.
Ten minutes pass and just before the eleventh has a chance to be observed, the sliding doors to the dining room whoosh open. With the ease and casualness of someone who is above the law of the household, Enji Todoroki strolls in followed closely behind by the eldest sibling.
Touya trails behind his father, movements sluggish and slow, his frail body slumped in exhaustion and what you would only later realise as terror. You can almost see the muck that weighs on his body, dripping off sharp bones in big flat globs of swamp green mud, seeping into the reeds of the tatami mats below. Fresh wounds litter his arms, blooms of dark red blood pock the sterile bandages that were hastily wrapped around his limbs. The stark white began at his wrists and climbed up and up his arms until they disappeared beneath the sleeve of his t-shirt. You follow Touya, eyes lingering on his wounds as he sits down opposite you.
“Fuyumi. Is he-“ Your question is hushed, spoken from the corner of your mouth to avoid raising suspicion of the subject.
“He’s okay, we don’t talk about it.” Her answer comes in a rush, eyes darting towards her father like a prey animal watching their stalker.  “Just eat.” 
Fuyumi’s mouth pulls into a frown for a quick second before her attention moves to the food before her.
You nod, attention shifting from the boy across the table to the plate that had been prepared just for you. A small helping of meat and fish paired with a big serving of rice and vegetables, the nanny even going as far as to put it into a divider plate as though you were a toddler, but you thanked her regardless, smiling up at the haggard-looking woman as she nodded politely and moved onto tending to baby Shouto. The food only holds your attention for so long before you glance back up at Touya, watching as he cuts into his steak with the precision of a man far beyond his years. Each move slow and calculated; every shift of his arms or turn of his head deliberate and purposeful, small actions to avoid raising awareness of his person. Come to think of it, all the children, save for Shouto, moved like that. As if they were in constant apologetic states just for breathing, existing, and with their father you understand why, but it doesn’t stop you from staring at the boy before you.
"Stop looking. He doesn't like it when you stare." Fuyumi whispers, smacking her knee against yours.
"But it looks like it hurts." You whisper back, unable to look away from the red splotches on the white bandages.
You want to ask if he is okay. If he needs a doctor and who did that to him? Was it a bully at school? How was the school not getting involved if he was being bullied this bad?
"Fuyumi," Touya sneers from across the table. "Tell your friend to stop staring at me."
Unabashed hatred simmers in his blue eyes as his glare falls on you. Heat rises to your cheeks, stumbling out an apology, and vowing to never look at him again.
No one had ever looked at you like that. With such hatred and malice, you didn’t even know existed.
"He plays rough, always falling over at school," Mr. Todoroki’s voice booms throughout the room, so loud and sudden it is like a thunderclap on a clear day. "You've got to be more careful, Touya. What would people think if they saw you like this!"
The lack of care for his son’s well-being gives you pause mid-bite. The vegetables fall from your fork as goosebumps skitter along your skin.
What would people think if they saw you like this?
What would they think other than he had been in an accident? Is Touya’s broken body a regular occurrence that people would be so used to seeing that it would start to raise suspicion? Had he been hurt on purpose? Why would Mr. Todoroki say that? Did Mr. Todoroki do that to Touya?
Your attention is pulled outwardly as Natsuo starts to talk about his day, telling his mom and the housekeepers all about the latest games and toys at school, the newest edition of a card game you like captivates you and your thoughts are swept away from the strange boy across from you. 
Dinner ended as it always did.
Mr. Todoroki called the housekeeper over to deal with the mess and children as he retired to his office and Mrs Todoroki took her evening walk around the grounds of the estate. You can’t stay the night despite it being a Friday, you’re never allowed to stay the night. Fuyumi had stayed at yours plenty of times, your parents never saying no to another friend but never you at hers. You thanked both her parents and waved bye to her brother before the youngest housekeeper walked you home. That’s how every Friday night ended.
That routine had become a staple in your life, going on two years, before there was a change to the way of things.
------
July 1st 2362 Touya: aged eleven You: aged ten
The shift was subtle and gradual, like the way a house is warmed by a fire on a winter’s eve. Slow and steady, seeping into all corners of the once-frozen house until all you know is warmth and you can’t remember how the cold felt. That’s how you would describe Touya’s presence in your life. From the arctic interactions each Friday night at the dinner table to someone you would call a friend.
The first thaw of the ice wall that had formed around your friend’s brother, was an accident.
Knee deep in the heat of summer, you had rushed over after summer school, swimmers in your backpack and a dream of jumping into the fresh cold heaven that was the local pool. You had come looking for Fuyumi, hell-bent on getting your poor friend out of the stuffy old house and somewhere she could have fun without the risk of her dad making her or her siblings cry.
You had come to hate Mr Todoroki.
He hadn’t done anything to you personally to deserve the contempt you held towards your friend's dad but you had heard enough from Fuyumi. She had told you all the times he made her mom cry. How there would be arguing and then the sounds of breaking plates followed by her mom’s cries. Mrs. Todoroki never said anything was wrong, never alluded to anything other than a mild argument but there had to be something more, right? Adults didn’t cry over nothing!
“ ‘Yumi, let's go to the pool!” you call down the hall. “I’ll buy ice cream this time.”
The housekeeper had let you in, instructing that your friend was in her room finishing up some school work but after you checked her room and found no sign of her, you went looking.
That is how you found Touya.
Walking into the bathroom under the assumption you would find Feyumi, you are greeted with a situation you are not old enough to understand the severity of.
Touya slouched on the bathroom floor, surrounded by bloodied towels, unspooled bandages, and uncapped ointment tubes. A piece of gauze caught between his teeth as he attempts to bandage his bleeding hand.
He shouts at you to leave, his command broken as he hiccups around the sobs falling from him. Scorched skin covering the majority of his arms, fingers red and blistering as they shake.
That image sears into your brain. Imprinting itself onto your eyelids so that each time you fall asleep, you see Touya; broken and bloody.
There isn’t much you remember from that afternoon, only flashes and stills that live in the recesses of your mind.
The feel of the cold tiles on your exposed legs as you knelt before the once terrifying older boy who had never had a single nice thing to say to you.
The smell of salt and metal of his fresh blood.
The sound of Touya’s cries as you peeled incorrectly placed bandages off raw and exposed skin.
The acidic taste of bile in the back of your throat upon first laying eyes on the scene before you.
It had been too much for little you to comprehend so you just forgot most of it. Thrown it into a locked drawer in your mind and lost the key.
That was the beginning of the thaw, a gruesome and bloody beginning to a friendship that spanned years and ended just as horribly.
------
September 23rd 2463 Touya: aged twelve You: aged eleven
“So it's this really old movie that my mum used to watch” you explain as you click on the familiar title screen. “It’s about a girl who gets transported to this weird world and she has to solve some weird riddle to get out.”
Touya looks at you like you had grown a second head but accepts your weird movie recommendation. You sit down next to him, popcorn bucket jiggling as the couch sinks under your frame.
The beginning animation of Spirited Away starts and the familiar tune wraps around you like a warm hug. This was the movie you liked to watch whenever you felt sad, and you noticed Touya was a little sadder than normal these days so you offered to have a movie night. His siblings had all said yes but upon discovering that the movie was one from decades ago, backed out. So with just the two of you left, you sit in silence and watch as the beautiful world comes to life.
It’s a nice moment between the two of you, sharing something so personal with someone you would have never considered a friend and here the two of you were, watching a movie. Like friends!
“I’m gonna call you Chihiro cause all she does is cry and that’s all you do too,” Touya announces as the credits begin to roll.
“I do not!” you retort, slapping his arm lightly. “I cry a normal amount for a girl my age!”
Touya rolls his eyes. “Whatever, Chihiro.”
------
February 14th 2464 Touya: aged thirteen You: aged twelve
Spring is only a month away yet it feels as if it were the middle of December.
The cold of winter had sunk its claws deep into the city and it seemed as if it did not have plans to let go of it anytime soon. Everyone in Tokyo bundled up against the frost that coated the wind but it wasn’t the cold that had your hands trembling as you gripped a single rose.
It was Valentine's Day and you were about to ask Touya to be yours.
The nerves that had built in your stomach had taken over your extremities. It was as if your entire body was a live wire that every so often touched an exposed pipe and jolted.
In the two years since the bathroom incident, you had grown closer to the oldest Todoroki, sparking a friendship that consisted of more than smiles and shy hellos across the dinner table. Phone calls and text messages were the daily, walking to school and home together was the new norm, all things that one would consider friendly but there was a part within your heart that was growing to like Touya a little more than a friend. You knew it was a crush, you weren’t a little kid anymore, but you also knew that he was unattainable for many reasons. One was that he was a sibling of a close friend and the other being that he was not someone who thought about life that way. There was no room for crushes in Touya’s world. There was only hero work. How to become a hero and then how to become the number one hero.
You had heard this speech a million times. His plans to surpass his father in the rank of heroes and become the ultimate symbol of peace. Heroes had no time for girlfriends, only villains.
But you had no plans of becoming a hero so there was no real reason you shouldn’t try, right? Your mom had bought you the flower this morning, picking up on the crush that you had developed on your friend and very excitedly pushed you to give Touya a gift.  
“What do I do with this?” Touya asks, confused as he takes the flower from your hands.
You had stopped halfway through the walk home and turned to your friend, eyes wide with fear, and shoved the bloom into his hands. Originally the plan was to hand it to him as you said goodbye for the afternoon but you were swiftly running out of ways to regulate your breathing to counteract the anxiety wreaking havoc in your stomach.
“It's for you” you answer, eyes trained on your shoes. 
“Me?” 
“Yes.”
“Are you asking me to be your valentine?” There is a pause. “Do you like me?”
Yes.
“No!” you lie, shouting the word even though you didn’t mean to. “I felt bad that you hadn’t gotten anything, so I got you something and there you go, it doesn’t mean I like you.”  
You hear footsteps, watching Touya’s shoes move closer to yours. “Just admit, you like me.” He teases. 
“I do not!” balling your fists, you stomp your foot. “I already told you why I got them now shut up before I take them back!” 
Another pause. 
“Thank you,” Touya says gently. “Even if it's just cause you felt bad for me” 
Spring had come early for Touya Todoroki.
------
June 28th 2466 Touya: aged fifteen You: aged fourteen
Romance had blossomed between the two of you, then wilted, then blossomed again, then wilted again.
Teenage hormones had been unleashing havoc on your friendship for the past year. One day you were fine and the next, barely speaking but it wasn’t anyone’s fault.
“You two just need some time apart and then you can talk about it, you guys will sort it out.” Your mother had cooed, stroking your hair back as you cried one afternoon after you and Touya had had a ruthless argument.
The topic of fighting was always the same. His insane need to overtake his father and prove him wrong. The need within him had turned insatiable. Morphing from a dream that would one day be achieved with dedication and hard work into something that was turning your best friend into a ravenous beast.
“You’re not listening to me. I need you to listen to me.” Touya shouts as you walk home together.
“I am. You’re just not making sense.” You roll your eyes at your friend, turning your attention away from the raving lunatic walking beside you.
“Why would your dad have it out for you? He’s your dad?”
Touya huffs and stops, hand wrapping around your wrist to pull you back.
“My dad isn’t like your dad. He doesn’t love me or any of us. He just wants us to be better than All Might.” His words are slow as if explaining something to a toddler. “He knows that I am more powerful than him and now he’s scared that I might beat him so he wants me to stop training.”
You groan out his name, annoyed at the constant conversation topic. “Your dad wants you to stop training because you keep hurting yourself. He has told you that a million times, he’s just trying to keep you safe.”
“If he wanted to keep me safe, he wouldn’t have let me train like this. This isn’t about me being safe, this is about me outranking my dad.”
“Touya-“
He continues his tirade. “Enji has realised that I am better than him and Shoto but he doesn’t want his loser son who can only use fire to become the number one hero. I don’t know why you’re on his side. Why can’t you be on my side for once?”
“I am on your side!” you shout, yanking your arm away from his grasp. “I’m always on your side, why do you always make it seem like everyone is against you!”
Touya’s mouth snaps shut at your sudden outburst.
“I can’t keep having this argument with you. I feel like you don’t even want to be my friend so you come up with this stupid stuff to push me away and if you want that, fine. Just tell me so I don’t have to listen to you anymore.” You huff and turn around, starting on your way home without your friend.
You don’t hear his footsteps follow you.
His apology comes in a text later that night.
I'm sorry, Chihiro. Can we still be friends?
------
October 19th 2466 Touya: aged fifteen You: aged fourteen “Can you promise me something?”  Touya’s words become mist in the mid-autumn night.
“Depends.”
You turn to face your friend, feeling the dew-soaked grass squish beneath your shoulders. Hidden behind the garden wall, lost within the shrubbery the two of you hid from the housekeepers who had been tasked with wrangling the children in for dinner. Touya had run first, taking off down the hall the second he heard the call of his name and you followed, unaware as to what you were running from but you followed him everywhere so why wouldn’t you now?
“Please don’t forget me.”
“Forget you?” your brows crinkle in confusion. “Why would I forget you? Are you going somewhere?”
Touya is still on his back, attention rapt on the stars twinkling above him.
“Just when we get older and go to different schools and things change, you know.” He sighs. “Just don’t forget me.”
You sit up, concern overtaking your confusion. Why was he talking about this stuff now? Your friend turns to look at you, mouth pulled down in a frown as tears line his cerulean eyes.
“I won't.” You shake your head, scooting closer across the grass and grab his cold hand, interlocking your fingers together, you squeeze and swear an oath. “I promise, I won’t ever forget you.”
November 24th 2367 Touya: aged sixteen You: aged fifteen
Nights come quicker in winter.
Which means less time spent with Touya.
But at least there is a little extra time when he walks you home on an evening.
It is a little awkward. Walking so close together but not actually touching aside from the occasional brush of fingers that sent your heart into a sprint. There is something unspoken between the two of you, something that teeters on the edge of romance but not something that you are both ready to dive into. It’s not like you are kids anymore, if you are going to date, it will be different than if you just liked each other. You will have to act like a girlfriend and not his friend and you didn’t know how to be a girlfriend. Was it any different than how you acted now? Plus, kissing and hand-holding. God, you want to kiss him.
You both stop at the gate of your house. The lights in the living room are on which means your parents are up waiting for you.
Touya drops your backpack at your feet.
There is a beat of stillness between the two of you, the tension rising with every second. You had not spoken a single word to each other the entire walk home and you don’t think you will even say goodbye. Touya offers you a tight smile and steps back, confirming your suspicions of a silent goodbye.
"Hey, I need to tell you something." You blurt out the words, not wanting him to leave just yet.
"Yeah?"
"I…umm," you stammer, slipping your hands into your jacket pockets. "I know it's your birthday in a few weeks, so I wanted to know what you want as a present."
"That's a question, Chihiro” Touya's mouth lifts at the corners. “You said you needed to tell me something."
“I got mixed up." You amend.
"You sure? There isn't anything you need to tell me?" Touya pushes, taking a step to close the gap.
"I'm sure. I just got confused" You nod, affirming your choice of words. “What do you want as a gift?”
"Hmm,” He pauses and takes a few more steps closer, lips pursed as if deep in thought. “Well, I want some of those cookies your mom makes." 
Touya stops a few feet from you, close enough for a hug but not close enough that it was weird. 
You laugh. "Really? That's it? You don't want a proper present?"
He nods. "Wrap it up, and it'll be a proper present.”
“Okay, cookies it is” You mirror his nod and smile. Your palms start to sweat, cheeks and ears begin to burn as you look up at your best friend.
“Any more questions?” 
You shake your head. “Nope, that’s all.” 
“Okay, well I’m gonna go 'cause I should have been home ten minutes ago but you are such a slow walker” he teases, bouncing up on his toes. 
“I-Um,” you stutter, unable to come up with a snappy comeback due to his proximity. “Go home before you get into trouble.” 
“I’m gonna.”
He makes no move to go.
Silence fills the gap.
“Ahh, well I’m going to go since-“
You’re interrupted by a soft kiss against your cheek. 
You still, unable to move at the realisation that Touya had just kissed you. 
“Okay, I’m going.” He announces and takes a step back. “I’ll see you on Monday?” 
You nod, raising a hand in goodbye as he starts back down the street.
“I hope you like me too, 'cause that kiss made me late and my dad’s gonna kill me!” he shouts back, already halfway down the street. 
“I do…like you…back” you shout awkwardly, feeling every inch of blood your body had flood into your cheeks. “Good luck. Hope your dad doesn't kill you!” 
------
November 30th 2467 Touya: aged sixteen You: aged fifteen
You speak at Touya’s funeral. 
The third speaker of the ceremony, having been urged on by Fuyumi and Natsuo despite your protests, and the one to close off the day before his ashes were taken home. You tried not to cry, bottom lip wobbling all day and you would have made it had you not been shoved on stage, microphone held to your face as you unfolded the crumpled sheet you had stuffed into the pocket of your coat.
The rest of the day was a blur as was the week,  then the month and only after six full months of grieving daily, crying god only knows how much, did you finally start to see the light at the top of the hole you had buried yourself in but unlike the times you and Touya would play together, his warm hand wasn’t there to help you back up.
------
January 4th 2477 Touya: aged sixteen You: aged twenty-five
You think about Touya Todoroki often.
How your best friend had been killed in some freak accident. How despite his father rushing into the flames to save his son, had come out unscathed yet all that was found was Touya’s jaw bone. It didn’t make sense and you had driven yourself crazy with theories surrounding his death. It was an accident, they had all said. Even if it was an accident, Enji Todoroki was not innocent.
You think about the kind of man Touya could have been if he had lived, what kind of hero he would have become. How he would save the day then turn and smile at his adoring fans, blue eyes blazing bright with pride. You often think about his eyes, remembering how they softened whenever he would smile at you, brighten as you offered half of whatever snack bar you had that day. You think about him enough that you think you’re going crazy when you look up into the eyes of a stranger and see Touya staring back at you.
"Touya?" you whisper as you stare at the strange man.
You had walked headfirst into their chest while crossing the dark street, ducking under awnings to avoid the winter rain. Hoping to cut ten minutes from your usual walk home, desperate to beat your roommate home and into the warm embrace of your apartment’s limited hot water, you took the risk of walking down the alley; what you weren’t hoping for was to bump into your best friend’s dead brother. There was no way it was him, maybe he was a distant Todoroki. Enji did seem like the type to spread it around so maybe a few illegitimate children were running around with the eyes of Endeavour.
His hand reaches out to grab your arm, nails digging into your exposed flesh. You want to wince, to cringe away from him but something within you is telling you to hold your ground. The stranger pulls you closer, all false bravado leaving you as you realise what’s about to happen. Your body tenses, hands uselessly curling into fists at your side.
"Who the fuck are you?" a harsh whisper cuts through the quiet patter of rain.
The hand your arm tightens when you take too long to respond. 
“I’m sorry, I thought you were someone else.” Your answer whooshes from you, all air leaving your body in a single sentence.
The stranger ducks his head to get closer to yours and you turn your face away, afraid to look into the face of the man who had the eyes of a long-lost love. This had to be some sort of joke, right? You were not about to be assaulted by a guy who had Touya’s eyes, there was no way the universe was that cruel.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to I’m sorry, please.” Hot tears roll over your cheeks, your bottom lip quivering as you fight the frown wanting to form. You were not above begging despite knowing it wouldn’t do any good, if there was some way to get out of this situation alive and unscathed, you were going to try it. 
“Hey,” the stranger calls to you, shaking you gently. “Hey, I’m not gonna hurt you.” 
Great, he’s playing mind games now. You’ve seen enough true crime to know that there are no good people left in the world, especially the ones who lurk in alleyways.
A cold hand reaches out and grips your chin, lifting your face to his. The gesture is intimate, gentle and familiar.
“I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean anything by it. I'm sorry, I-“You’re sobbing now. 
“Look at me” he interrupts, fingers tightening on your cheeks.
He repeats his order when your gaze doesn’t move.
You sniffle, blink back tears that refuse to stop coming, and focus your attention on the man before you.
“I’m not going to hurt you so stop crying,” his voice is soft.
The hand that was on your arm now cups your cheek, thumb brushing away the tears that coat your cheeks. His skin is rough and warm, but there is a bite of something cold on his palm. He holds you with such tenderness you feel a tug at your heart not for any feelings towards the stranger but because you had never been held like this before. That a complete stranger who was probably a crazy psycho villain was holding you with the care you hold a baby animal with.
“I need you to stop crying and answer me, can you do that?” he asks, nodding as his thumb continues to brush over your cheek. 
You nod, taking in a shaky breath. 
“Good girl.” Heat floods your cheeks. “Now, why is a pretty girl like you walking alone at night?” he asks softly.
You blink up at him, surprised at the switch in demeanour. 
“I just finished work and this is shortcut.” you don’t have time to come up with an elaborate lie. “I’m really sorry about the whole name thing, you just look like a friend who died and I thought that maybe he wasn’t actually- I’m sorry” You feel the tears welling up again. 
“Well, he’s not me.” He sighs, removing his hands from your face. You kind of miss the warmth they had. “I’m sorry you lost someone, but I don’t think accusing strangers of being dead people is a good idea.”
You nod wordlessly, too stunned at his shift in tone to formulate a response. The man reaches up for the hood of your raincoat, pulling it over your head tight to shield you from the rain. 
“I need one more thing from you okay?” he asks, ducking his head to look into your eyes. “You gonna listen to me again?” 
“Okay.” Your voice shakes. 
“Don’t mention that name to anyone else, alright?” 
He waits for your nod and then releases your hood. “You’re such a good listener” The fact he is praising you has your heart spinning. Wasn’t he ready to attack you a few minutes ago?
“Now go home” he nods his head to the exit of the alleyway. You follow his nod and look back at the light-filled street. “And don’t walk down backstreets anymore, you could get hurt.” 
By the time you turn back to face him, he is already halfway down the alleyway arms raised in a farewell. You watch as he turns the corner and only when he is gone do you let yourself breathe. ------
March 6th 2477 Touya: aged sixteen You: aged twenty-five
"Let it go, dude," Natsuo sighs for the umpteenth time as he packs his books away. "You're lucky you didn't get hurt. He could have been a complete psycho."
Your friend is right and has been every other time you have brought up the strange man from the alley and you can tell by the way he shoves the textbooks into his backpack that his patience is running thin. Over the years, you had grown closer to Natsuo, looking at him like a little brother who you could force to hang out with and do things Fuyumi didn't want to. Unfortunately for him, he was the first person you called upon meeting the stranger (Knowing Fuyumi would have had a heart attack upon hearing about your encounter). Initially, Natsuo was concerned, terrified for your physical and mental wellbeing even going so far as to suggest letting his father know about the incident to launch a formal investigation but you were quick to shut that down. You hadn’t been hurt and the man didn’t seem to be skulking in alleyways to assault anyone so there is no reason you should get heroes involved.
"Dude, he looked so familiar! I know him," you press on, hands splayed on the library table as you lean in as if you were about to reveal a secret. "I think he was a childhood friend."
You had purposefully omitted the fact the stranger bore a striking resemblance to his dead brother or how his entire aura radiated familiarity and warmth something you only really felt from said brother.
Natsuo laughs and zips his bag closed. " 'Yumi was your only childhood friend."
"Fine, a neighbour, maybe I don't know, but I know him."
"Should I schedule you with my family psych, or will this fade by next month?" You frown at Natsu, sigh, and then give in to his pronounced lack of interest.
"I don't need to see anyone because I know I'm right," you start to pack up your things. "But, just for you, I won't mention it again."
------
May 17th 2477 Touya: aged sixteen You: aged twenty-five
You feel stupid.
Really fucking stupid.
So monumentally stupid with every single decision that has led you to this moment. Led you to stand before a thick metal door, the sliding peephole pulled back to allow the man guarding the entry a view as to who knocked like some girl scout. The box of cookies in your hands does nothing to evade that image.
“I have a meeting with…Dabi?” you look down at your phone, squinting at the blurry name on your screen then back to the man guarding whatever was in that building. “I think.”
You have no idea if you’re being set up. If the person you had been corresponding with was the infamous villain or just some poser but what you have deduced from your months long investigation is that you had in fact met Dabi in that alleyway so whether it was him or not you were about to meet, he is your only lead into finally figuring out what exactly happened to Touya
“You think?” You hear the smirk in his voice at the uncertainty in yours. “I think you might have the wrong door, sweetheart.”
It is the right door. The creepy encrypted message you received gave you this very location with the exact time to arrive. This was a giant risk on your behalf. Trusting strangers on the internet to give you accurate information as opposed to being lured into a trap for human trafficking but the need to know more about the mysterious man you had met weeks ago was gnawing at your insides so much that you were more need than person. The hunt had begun with a very broad search into Touya’s death and the records surrounding the tragedy before very quickly veering into villain records and archives. There was a small lead with a hospital admittance for an unidentified burn victim in a hospital a prefecture over from Tokyo but that went cold when the body of the patient was identified two weeks post mortem through dental records. You had all but given up when a weird email in your spam box caught your eye. It was from an unknown sender, hence the immediate spam allocation, and had nothing but a link to a chat site. There is no amount in the universe to quantify the stupidity in your subsequent actions from clicking the link to chatting with the stranger on the other side of the screen but they had the information you wanted and so you followed their instructions to a bookstore, then a bar and then finally an internet café where you logged into the already open discord chat that had the location of the final meeting point. You quickly snapped a picture of the chat before it disappeared and three days later, here you stand in a deserted alleyway surrounded by boarded-up doors and graffitied walls.
“This is the address I was given.” You explain, holding up the phone so the guy can get a look at the message. “I promise I'm not with the police or anything, I just have some questions for Dabi and I know that makes me sound like I’m a police officer but I’m not and I’ve been looking for him for weeks so please, let me in.”
Your mouth sets in a frown and despite wanting to look intimidating and rough, you know you look like a child pouting in an attempt to get more cake. “Please, I’ll give you some cookies if you want.” A shitty bribe but a bribe nonetheless.
The man snorts. “You really have cookies in that box?”
“Yes. Fresh and homemade made and some of them can be yours if you let me in” You wiggle the box.
There is a beat of silence then the sliding peephole slams shut.
Fuck.
You close your eyes, disappointed in the fact you had come so far only to be shut down by some guy behind a door. Maybe this was the universe stepping in and preventing you from getting killed or trafficked. Maybe you should let this whole thing go.
Just as the last of your hope leaves you, you hear the click of a lock and then the door is sliding open. The man who you had been speaking to not ten seconds ago stands before you, muscular tattooed arms crossed over his equally muscular chest.
“Choc chip?” he asks, eyes trained on the box in your hand.
You nod.
“Fine, come in” The man tilts his head in a gesture to welcome you in. “Leave some on the counter.”  
You nod again, your pace quick as you enter the building beyond the door.
The hallway is dim and damp, filled with cardboard and wooden crates stacked along the walls. The ceilings are high with exposed piping and hanging fluorescent bars that would have once lit up the entire walkway. Light bleeds beneath the many doors that line the hall, muted sounds following the flashes of colour that leak from the closed-off rooms. The smell is unpleasant, with mildew and mould growing along every available surface but what did you expect a dirty unoccupied building to smell like?
“Where’s the?” you turn to ask about the counter, but the man has disappeared. The door slides shut caging you in from the outside world, from an escape if need be. “Hello?” you call out and take a step back, dried leaves crunching beneath your feet.
Fuck. Fuck.
You turn on your heels, heading for the door you had stepped through a few seconds ago but are stopped by a familiar voice.
“Did you really bring me cookies?”
You whirl, fingers tightening on the box between them. “Yes, but if you don’t want them, it’s okay. I just thought that I might-“
You watch as the man you had met weeks before steps into the dim light. Breath catches in your throat as you are met with the face of the villain that has filled your screen for weeks now.
Dabi.
He is taller than you remember. Towering a full foot over you, his intimidating figure looms in the dim light. Your eyes follow the line of his scarred skin over his cheeks, down his neck, over exposed collarbones before disappearing beneath the neck of his shirt. Heat fills your face at your wandering gaze and you’re thankful for the lack of lighting.
“Who says I don’t want cookies?” Dabi smirks, taking a step out of the shadows.
“No one.” your answer is a broken stammer, earning a bemused snicker from your companion.
You take in a breath and square your shoulders. “I just don’t want to accuse you of anything.” A better delivery.
The villain hums and takes another step closer. “So, it is you then.”
Another foot closer, and when you don’t back away, one more. His steps are careful; small and reserved as if trying not to frighten you anymore than you already are. The routine is repeated, a hesitant dance of pushing proximity limits until he is less than a foot away. Blue eyes narrowed on you, brows furrowed in intrigue. Same blue as before. Same blue eyes as Touya.
His apprehension and fascination leave as quickly as it came, and you're left staring at a man who looks as if he wants nothing more to do with you.
“So, pretty girl, what can I do for you?” tone casual, pet name rolling off his tongue effortlessly. “You’ve gone through all this trouble to what?”
The thought of lying did cross your mind on your way over but you had already jumped through enough loops to get this meeting, you aren’t in the mood to play games and risk his irritation.
“I wanted to talk to you about something.”
Dabi tilts his head to the side the way an animal does to hear better. There is something so unsettling about the he moves, something not entirely human.
“Talk about what, angel?” his eyes blaze blue as he notices the twitch in your lips at the byname. “About the league? About you? Me?”
“About you.”
Heat pools in your stomach at his affectionate pet name, embarrassment following suit. You should not be letting him get to you the way he is, but it could also be a good bargaining chip. If you couldn’t afford his services monetarily, physical payment would not be entirely painful.
“We can talk about me but first, I want to ask you something.”
“Sure.” The false confidence you had summoned before has not left you yet.
The insincerity of your act is palpable, but Dabi lets you go, lets you take this small win.
“How long did it take you to find me?” his question is genuine, interested in just how exclusive access to him is.
An exhausted sigh leaves your body at the mention of the time that you had put into locating him and his lips quirk at the gesture.
“Four months and 2 weeks, I think.”
An irrationally long time but there are questions that demanding answers.
“So, you’ve spent almost five months thinking about me?” he taunts.
Me. The emphasis on the pronoun doesn’t evade you but you don’t have time to dwell on his excitement.
“Yes. And now I’ve answered two of your questions, can I ask one?”
Dabi shrugs and reaches for the box in your hands. Rough fingers brush against the back of your hands, goosebumps skittering over your skin at the contact. He takes his time opening the small white box, bottom lip pulled between his teeth in contemplation at the contents before him and after a full minute of silent deliberation, does he pick one. Slender unscarred fingers dig into the box, fishing out the biggest and most chocolate filled treat.
“Did you make these?” Dabi holds up the choc chip cookie, inspecting the biscuit in the low light.
“That’s three questions now.” you announce as the unofficial score keeper. “and yes, I made them this morning.”
The making of the desserts had been a coping mechanism on your part. Too nervous to sit still but not so overstimulated you were willing to exercise to shake off the extra energy, you turned to an activity you hadn’t touched since university. The recipe was one you know by heart, having it gifted to you by your mother on your eighteenth birthday, you were free to think as your body worked through the motions. However, the purpose behind you baking said sweets was not entirely self-soothing.
Dabi nods and bites into the biscuit.
“I know you already said you don’t know the guy I mentioned when I first met you and I haven’t mentioned him to anyone again just like you asked me, and I figured with you being a villain, you might have connections that I don’t have and you can access more information as to what happened to him and I promise that I can pay. I’ll pay whatever you want but I don’t really have that much but I’ll pay in food, and that’s kinda why I brought some cookies to show that I can bake but that will only be a small amount because I’m good for a couple thousand-“ you reach into your back pocket to fish out your wallet. “I promise, I won't ever mention this to anyone, but I just really need your help, Dabi.” The juxtaposition of your pastel purple Kuromi wallet holding thousands of dollars as payment for a villain’s services almost makes you chuckle but the lack of recognition from your companion causes you to pocket the purse.
Dabi’s stare is unamused as he chews.
“Why is this guy so important to you?” he asks around a mouthful of chocolate. “You’re willing to blow thousands on some dead guy, not to mention you’ve risked your life coming here, so why is he so special?”
Your fingers curl into a fist, nails digging into your palm before you relax and answer.
“Because he died in a really weird way, and I need to know if there was anything I could have done to prevent it.”
“That’s a stupid reason.” Dabi spits out.
A frown tugs at your mouth.
“He’s dead. Who cares how he died and whether you could stop it or not.” He continues, rolling his eyes as your pout forms. “What’s the real reason you’re looking for answers? There’s something else.”
“It’s stupid.” You mutter, suddenly embarrassed at the reasoning for your investigation.
“Ohh, it can’t be that stupid if you’ve put all this effort in.” Dabi croons. “Come on, angel. You’ve gotta tell me why if I’m gonna do all this work looking for him.”
You take in a deep breath in hopes of smothering the tears that are threatening to spill but the lump sticking in your throat has other plans.
“Because he was my best friend and I loved him and I never got to say goodbye.” You sniff, nose starting to run as the tears build. “Please.”
Dabi stares at you.
“You made these?” the question comes out of left field.
You blink at the villain, unaware as to where he is taking the conversation but answer him nonetheless.
“Yes, I did. It’s stupid I know, bringing cookies as a bargaining chip but I-“
“Your mom’s cookies are better.”  Dabi interrupts.
My what? My mom?
“What?”
He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “I’m sorry but her cookies will always be the best.”
Your jaw slackens as you stare at the man before you.
“My mother?”
“Yes. Your mom made better cookies, and it’s not for lack of trying. Yours are really good, but they’ll never beat your mom's.”
Is he fucking with you? Is this some elaborate psychological warfare that he enacted on all his victims? Are you about to die? How does he know about your mother’s cookies?
“Aww, don’t get upset Chihiro. I'm just being honest.”
The nickname rattles your soul.
Touya.
Before you can even register that you are moving, you have crossed the space between your bodies and swung at the villain.
Your clenched fist collides with his jaw, surprising him out of his teasing. Arms wrap around your waist as you collapse against the villain. Your knees break the fall, bones scream out in pain as they slam into the concrete, and you brace for further impact but it never comes. There is a moment when you truly believe you are going to be killed, incinerated into nothing but ash for your assault but nothing happens and so you are left with no other choice but to get answers from the man under you. There is no clear choice as to why you chose violence, some primal part within you acting out of instinct. There isn’t enough time for you brain to catch up or even process that information that had been thrown at you. . In most high-pressure situations, you would retreat inwards and carefully unpack each and every detail of the occurrence like you were a kid under a Christmas tree; not a package left untouched, but you don’t have that luxury in the current moment.
Hot fat tears stream down your face as you grip Dabi’s cheeks in your hand, his skin rough beneath your fingers.
“You’ve been alive this whole time?” you cry, fingers digging into the gaunt flesh and when no answer comes you ask again, the palm of your hand connecting with his cheek in a sharp slap. “You left me to think you were dead, but you’ve been alive?”
Below you, the villain stares up in disbelief. Eyes wide at the mad woman above him, screeching like a banshee let loose. His thin shirt is scrunched tightly between your fingers, pulling the material taunt against his body. You have no control over your actions, feral and bowing to your emotions. You watch as your hand slips to his neck, pushing at the base of his throat.
Finger wraps around your wrist, pulling your weight off his windpipe and then the world shifts.
You are flipped over as easily as a leaf in the wind. Now on your back, the dust that had been kicked up from the floor sticks in your lungs and you cough as you cry.
Dabi hovers above you. Legs on either side of your hips, hands pinning yours above your head preventing you from causing any more harm to him. You try to kick, to wrench your hands from his grasp, throw him off you with your hips but nothing. You fight back against your opponent, teeth gnashing as you desperately try to find purchase on skin but he has done this too many times before to leave anything to chance. All points of access to an injury on his behalf are sealed up, held high above you and there is nothing you can do to reach.
Your cries are loud and deep and aching. Air leaves you with each heaving sob and you fear you may never breathe again. Spit and tears mix in a hot mess across your cheeks and you would wipe away the mess if not for your hands held above.
“I hate you so much.” You seethe, teeth clenched as you breathe in. “I fucking hate you.”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” You hear Dabi apologising over and over again.
A hand brushes over your forehead, then your cheeks, then your jaw.
“You left me.” You wail. “You left me there, all alone.”
Your chest heaves, air being gulped down as if you had been held underwater to the point of drowning and it felt like you had been. You had been held under for so many years and now you were getting a moment of air, and your brain could not process it. 
You take a few more breaths, calming the blood roaring in your ears and pounding heart and finally when your breathing returns to a semi-acceptable rhythm, do you finally acknowledge the man above you.
Dabi glides his palm along your jaw, thumb brushing over your cheekbone before resting his fingers along the side of your neck.
“I’m so sorry.”
A frown pulls at the corners of his mouth.
There is no longer a villain before you. Dabi does not exist. The boy above you is Touya. Your Touya.
You knew it. You knew it was him all along.
“Is it really you?” your voice is hoarse from crying.
“If I answer, you need to promise to keep it a secret,” he whispers, free hand curling in the ends of your hair that lay splayed out beneath you.
“Promise.” You nod and hold out your pinkie the way you did so many times as children.
Touya interlocks his pinkie with yours.
Fresh tears prick at your eyes.
“Hi, Touya,” you whisper.
“Hi.” He whispers back, hand pulling away from yours to glide over your jaw and slot into the hair at the nape of your neck. “I missed you.”
You wrap your arms around his waist and pull his body against yours in a bone-crushing hug. A laugh leaves your friend as he loops his arm around the back of your neck, holding you close. You pull back, face now centimetres from him and wait for him to make the next move. Your body follows his breaths, following his lead just the way you would follow him all those years ago. A lump forms in your throat and you know you look insane; hair mused, cheeks flushed and soaked in tears, eyes still red and crying.
Touya closes the distance, mouth hovering above yours and you think he is going to kiss you but nothing comes.
“Did you really love me?”
A sob leaves you involuntarily.
“I loved you so much, you have no idea.” The truth spills from you. “I love you so much.”
At the confession, Touya kisses you.
His mouth is soft on yours in the gentlest of kisses, almost as if he was afraid that you would fall apart if he pushed any harder. You part your lips to test the waters and when Touya follows your lead opening his mouth against yours, you grip onto the shirt bunched up around his waist. He lets you lead, lets you take control and set the pace for the first few minutes. Following your moves and pressure against your body to not push you any more than you already had been but as you whimper beneath him, his demeanour shifts.
Fingers tighten in your hair and the hand that had been holding himself up comes to rest on your waist, slipping beneath your body to pull you closer to him. Your mouth opens wider beneath his and you feel his tongue trace your bottom lip before flicking into your mouth. Menthol and chocolate fill your senses and you scramble for more, hands gripping his face as you desperately try to get your fill of him; of Touya. The steel of the staples bites into your palm but you don’t care, don’t care what form you have him in, you have your Touya back.
You’re being lifted off the floor, hoisted to sit on his lap, feeling the entirety of his body against yours.
You pull away to stare at him, not believing this is happening and that at any moment you are going to wake up or snap out of your delusion.
“Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” Touya asks, eyes frantically searching for the reason you aren’t kissing him anymore.
Your chest constricts at his concern. The same sweet and caring boy you fell in love with all those years ago.
“I’m okay, I just-“You stroke his cheeks and he leans into your touch, inhaling a shaky breath. “I missed you so much. There was so much we didn’t get to do.”
He frowns and nuzzles further into your palm. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. I don’t want you to apologise, I just want..” You can’t form the words. Can’t articulate the need within you for him. All these years you’ve held a torch for your deceased best friend. All these years you could have had him with you and now that you do, you aren’t letting go. “I just want you.”
Touya’s frown deepens. “Even now?”  His thumbs stroke circles along your clothed skin.
You know he is referring to his crimes. All the bad he has done and probably will do. You do not care. You had long ago abandoned your hope in the heroes of society, having been granted a look into the past of the now top hero. There is nothing for you in that world, nothing on offer that could sway your feelings for the man below you.
“Even now, and tomorrow and the day after that and yesterday and the day before and the month before that” You smile, knowing you weren’t making sense but none of this made sense. “I never forgot about you.”
Touya’s eyebrows knit together in an expression you don’t know and for a moment you panic; worried you had crossed a line that you didn’t know existed. You want to apologise, take back the words that had so carelessly tumbled out but his grip on your body stops you.
“I never stopped thinking about you,” he sighs, hands sliding up to press into the small of your back.
“Really?” you beam, unable to stifle the excitement that grows in you at his confession.
You are no longer an adult woman sitting in a dirty and dusty warehouse; you are fifteen and hearing your crush confess words you had been so desperately wishing to be spoken.
Your best friend’s fingers trailing over your spine pull you back to the present.
“Never for a single second,” he tests the waters and slips one hand under the hem of your shirt. “I never wanted to forget you.”
When no protest on your behalf comes, Touya slips his other hand beneath the material and begins to trace shapes into your skin.
“What did you think about?” your question is breathless, head beginning to swim as you feel heat bloom in your stomach.
Touya hums in thought, fingers beginning to climb your ribs. “Good things. Great things actually.” hands splay over the band of your bra. “some bad things but that isn’t important.”
Your thighs slip further apart at the implication; weight now fully resting atop his hips. There is no doubt that he can feel the heat from between your legs, the warmth that had begun to pool in the seam of your panties.
“Bad things?” you ask the question without knowing what kind of answer you would get. “I was nothing but nice to you, what bad things could you be thinking of?”
You feel his cock twitch at your innocence. Perfect.
Your answer comes in the form of an action. Touya leans forward and captures your mouth in a searing kiss. All teeth and tongue as his fingers pressed hard into your spine, holding you against his body as if you are a buoy and he is lost at sea. Your own hands begin to wander, sliding from where they came to rest on his neck, into the hair at the nape of his neck and as he digs his teeth into your bottom, you pull at the strands between your digits.
Touya pulls away, breathless.
“I always kept an eye on you, you know.” he pants, pushing your body away only enough to ogle you freely. “And I’ve gotta say you grew up so well.”
There are two thoughts that cross your mind in that spilt second. One: to bring up the fact he has kept you within his sighs for years, has been in the shadows of you life and how there is a part of you, not that big but enough to plant a seed of betrayal, that you can’t forgive him for that. Two: to throw caution to the wind and give into the part of you that aches for him.
The latter wins out.
“I did always think that Dabi was really handsome” you admit, an air of nonchalance in your words.
“Oh yeah? Even with all the new mods?”
“New mods?” you laugh. “Why do you make it sound like you’ve upgraded a game or something?”
Touya laughs with you.
“I’m serious,” vulnerability swims in his eyes as he looks up at you waiting for praise. “Do you really think that I’m still handsome?”
You nod and duck your head closer to his. “I still think you’re so handsome and you will always be handsome, which is really unfair.”
His lips are pressed against yours in a soft kiss. It's gentle and sweet, with no hint of the darkness lurking just below.
“Even after all these years how do you manage to make me so weak?” Touya pulls away to admire you.”You, my pretty girl, are my weakness.”
He tucks your hair behind your ears, holding your cheeks in his cupped hands and pulls you back in for a kiss and you melt into his touch at the possessive compliment.
“All these years, I never thought I’d get to talk to you again let alone touch you.” His mouth moves to your neck, pressing sloppy open-mouthed kisses against your skin. “but, fuck, have I thought about it.”
Your skin flushes at his confession.
His teeth sink into your neck, hard enough to leave a mark but not enough to break the skin.
“Thought about kissing you like this” his words are slurred.
Slick begins to pool in your panties, the seam of your jeans dampening.
“Thought about having you in my lap, just the way you are and how good you’d feel on my cock.”
Your head swims at his words.
“When I saw you again for the first time a few years ago, it took everything in me to not walk up to you and kiss you right there and then.” He bites lower, nipping at your collarbone.
Rough hands make their way under your shirt, exploring the expanse of your back.
“Thought about holding you and kissing you and taking you home.” he bites again. “God, the amount of time I’ve spent imagining you under me or spread out just for me.” Breathing becomes hard. “All for me, just for me.” He chants your name as if it were a prayer.
You grind your hips over his, feeling his cock hard and aching beneath you. Touya groans against your throat, fingers digging into your skin. Hands begin to wander downwards until they find purchase on the buttons of his pants, stopping at the metal for approval from the man beneath you and when it comes in a rushed yes, please you flick open the clasp. Your movements are awkward and nervous, having never thought this would happen and you can tell Touya is just as jittery. His fingers dip under the waistband of your pants, toying with the soft elastic of the band. Your hands follow his and pull at the material, trying to pull it down but stop at the realisation there is no way you could do this and still look seductive.
“I’m trying really hard to make this hot, but I don’t think it’s gonna work.” You admit, giggling at the absurdity.
Touya shakes his head, removing his hands from your hips to hold your face again. “I don’t want to fuck you here.” He presses a kiss to your nose.
Before you can ask, he is answering.
“I’m not gonna have the first time I fuck you be on a dirty floor in a random building.” A kiss on your right cheek.
“But what if I want that?” you retort, hand reaching down between the two of you.
His breath catches as your fingers brush against his clothed cock.
“I know you want that,” he pulls your hand away and entwines your fingers. “and you know I do too,” A kiss to your left cheek. “But I had a plan back when we were younger,” he brings your hand to his lips. “and I’ve already had so much taken from us that I’m not letting our first time be taken too.”
Your heart squeezes. He really is the same boy you fell in love with.
“So as much as we both want it, please let me do this, okay?”
You pout, a habit you had formed long ago that usually got you what you wanted from him.
“Please, baby.” The pet name is a gut punch.
 You nod and hold up your pinkie.
“You promise?”
Touya grins wider than you had ever seen and entwines his finger with yours.
“I promise.”
May 17th 2477 Touya: aged twenty-six You: aged twenty-five
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ᰔ a/n: NOT PROOFREAD! ohmygosh, this was a long haul. I wrote it and then rewrote it and then rewrote it and so on and so forth till I got here. tiny TINY smut cause i didn’t wanna write a whole ass thing so I might do a one shot of it later. this exhausted me holy- also shout out to billie eilish lmao her entire new album helped me write this mainly chihiro, the greatest and blue but also harry styles' as it was and madds buckley's brother
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delusional-day-dreamer · 10 months ago
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So High School Part¹- k.m
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‣ kate martin x celebrity reader (inspired fully by @ellienator)
‣ wc: 1216
‣‣ synopsis: reader, who has been famous all her life (think mckenna grace or peyton elizabeth lee), reveals her celebrity crush in a Vanity Fair interview with close friend, Sabrina Carpenter.
‣‣‣ a/n: pre write: i'm so obsessed with the wcbb x celebrity trope, also sorry it’s so long but i wanted to use this fic to practice writing more dialogue! after: i started around one a.m. and somehow finished this at almost FOUR AM after writing non-stop... (IT WOULDN'T LET ME UPLOAD THIS, I TRIED LIKE TWENTY TIMES)
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"I swear to god, you have to stop touching your hair y/n," my manager, Alyssa, looked up from her phone just to scold me for the second time in the last twenty minutes.
"I'm sorry but I literally cannot help it right now Lyss, you don't understand how nervous I am for this," I insisted to her. "I'm so stupid, out of all the men AND women in the entire celebrity pool world wide, why did I have to say that Kate freaking Martin was my celebrity crush," I whine, albeit childishly, while squirming in the leather seats of our limo.
Three Weeks Ago
"Hi my name is Y/N L/N, and today I am here with Vanity Fair with the one and only..." You introduced yourself to the camera before gesturing to the woman next to you, one of your closest childhood friends.
"Sabrina Carpenter! And today we are going to be testing out a little lie detector test," After growing up on Disney sets together and respectively journeying out of the acting industry into music, you and Sabrina had only grown closer over the years you had known each other.
As the proctor introduces how the interview will go, Sabrina volunteers you to be in the hot seat first, and with some small bickering, you relent.
"So let's start of small just to test it out you know, how old are you?" Sabrina asks you from the other end of the table.
"I actually just turned 23 years old," you respond calmly, happy that your friend was taking it slow. With the proctor's approval, the two of you move on with the questioning.
SMALL TIME SKIP
"What is your biggest ick in a relationship? Wait I think we've talked about this before right?" Sabrina animatedly asks, eager to hear you response.
"No yea we definitely have, but the thing is for me," you start, "I don't have a type, like at all. Man, woman, celebrity, athlete, a totally regular person, I don't really care. To me, if you're attractive then you're attractive right?" Sabrina nodded in agreement to your statement. "So it's not often I get icked out, however, my biggest and literal immediate turn-off is when they start being overwhelmingly jealousy or being possessive about me, even like just being overbearing about my every move is an immediate no for me. It's honestly why I've been single for a while now," You respond thoroughly.
It was no secret to your fans that you were bisexual, considering your last very public relationship was with a woman.
"That's honestly such a valid ick, like if you think you own me then please escort yourself out that's honestly so gross," Sabrina piggybacks off your answer. "But I'm dying to ask and there's no way you expected me to not ask you this question, but, you've been a single lady for quite some time now," Sabrina teases, wiggling her eyebrows repeatedly at you.
"Oh no, I know where you're going with this," You complain, already beginning to feel a flush rising in your face.
"Do you have your eyes on anybody right now? Specifically, do you currently have a celebrity crush?" Sabrina asks you with the widest, most smug shit-eating grin on her face as she watches the blush begin to form on your cheeks.
"Yes I do," you mumble, rolling your eyes at your friend in the process.
"Who is it?" She pushes, knowing that once she asked, you basically had no choice but to answer according to the interview rules.
"Dude that's so not fair I don't wanna tell the entire internet that," you protest weakly.
"Come on! It's not even that big of a deal, besides you're super hot, I'm sure she'll be flattered," Sabrina insisted to you while trying to hold back her grin.
"Sab!" You groan as her big mouth reveals the gender of your crush, automatically giving away part of their identity.
"Oh shoot sorry," She quickly apologizes, covering her mouth with the interview question card in her hand. "But like, you're gonna tell them who it is either way so I'm not sure it matters," She adds in slyly, reveling in the red flush that had now visibly engulfed the entirety of your face.
"Okay fine whatever, it's Kate Martin," you mumble under your breath looking down at your shoes, attempting to escape the embarrassment burning inside of you.
"No that's definitely cheating, you have to actually say her name," Sab giggled at the state you were in.
"Oh my gosh fine," you exclaimed while waving your face with a paper from the desk, trying to lessen the appearance of the blush on your face. "It's Kate Martin alright? She plays basketball at the University of Iowa, has just declared for the WNBA Draft, and she's incredibly attractive, so literally sue me." You end the mini rant with both hands in the air, embarrassed and mildly annoyed at the fact that your friend had coaxed you into admitting your crush.
Sabrina laughed in delight, smacking her hand excitedly on the table in front of you to in response to your confession.
"OH MY GOSH, OH MY GOSH, tell me you've seen the edits of her on tiktok because there's no way you don't have any favorited or saved on your phone," Sabrina wheezed through her bout of laughter.
"Obviously I've seen them but I haven't favorited any of them," you defended weakly.
"That's a lie," the proctor informed you two, which sent Sabrina into a second round of wheezing laughs.
"NO WAY, how many? Like a hundred? Two hundred? More than that?" She exclaimed, somehow managing to tease you while still being out of breath with laughter.
"Like two or three maybe, like at most," You lied, despite knowing that they would find out.
"Still lying," the proctor slightly smiled, only furthering Sabrina's howling laughter to the point she nearly fell out of her chair.
"My god, you could at least pretend to be a little less overjoyed at this," you grumbled, attempting and failing to hide the giggles beginning to spill out of you at the sound of your friend's infectious laughter. You eventually gave up on trying to pretend being annoyed and joined Sab with her maniacal laughing, unable to control yourselves for the next few minutes.
"I hope you realize I'm so getting you back for that," You teased Sabrina as the two of you switched seats to continue the second half of the interview, your questions and Sabrina's answers.
END OF FLASHBACK
"Y/n it's not even that big of a deal, you just said she was attractive, it's not like you professed your deep-profound love for her," Alyssa insisted.
"I practically admitted to favoriting tiktok edits of her Alyssa, I'm literally doomed," you sighed dramatically leaning your head to the cool glass of the limo window.
"Yea well," Alyssa began, texting on her phone once again, "You're just gonna have to put on your big girl pants and deal with it because we're almost there and they wanna interview you on the red carpet and right when you enter the theater, and it’s quite literally the WNBA Draft, so there's no way they're not gonna bring up Kate," she informed you.
"I'm actually gonna die," you declare.
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Thanks for reading all the way through! I'll be coming out with part two very soon!!
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muwapsturniolo · 25 days ago
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Anxiety ⚠ M. Sturniolo
"so why do i feel like my life is a mess...? everything seemed so good."
⟢ ANGST!!!! obviously, this has to do with anxiety. in no way shape or form am i trying to glorify anxiety or romanticize it. this more so is me projecting but also taking inspo from other sources that have expressed the way their anxiety takes form.
divider cred @bernardsbendystraws
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The party started off fun.
He was having a good time, surrounded by people who were his friends, along with a few new faces. He had a drink in his hand, a smile on his face, and overall good energy.
Nothing could bring him down, he was on top of the world.
He was standing with Chris and two other girls, all of them laughing and talking with each other.
Time seemed to suddenly stand still when he made eye contact with a girl across the room. She was pretty, a diamond in the rough, Matt thought to himself. However, there was something off about her, something he couldn't put his finger on.
All he knew was that the closer she got, his palms grew sweaty, the grip on his cup tightening. The air in the room felt suffocating, his chest getting tight as he tried to breathe. He felt stuck, like there was a human-sized fly trap keeping him stuck in place.
She approaches him with an eerie aura, everything around her turning into visible static that he could feel in his limbs. The red flags in his mind were waving at a concerning pace, warning him that danger was near. She looked him up and down, her black beady eyes judging his attire and what seemed to be everything about him.
He licks his lips and opens his mouth to speak when suddenly, she leans in, her shockingly cold breath fanning over his face.
"You don't belong here."
Her simple yet harsh statement sent his mind into overdrive, every rebuttal he could have given dying in his throat before he could make a sound.
"Look at you, trying so hard to fit in with these people when they don't even want you here. You try so hard, and yet you still manage to be a loser. You've been nursing the same drink for hours, you look a hot mess, and you're pathetic attempts at flirting are comical. You keep trying to be like Chris, and you never will be, he's better than you."
His chest gets tighter at every blow she lands, his hands starting to shake. His mouth starts to feel dry, the need for water or any type of liquid is strong, yet he remains stuck in place.
What is going? Who is this girl? Why is Chris just letting her say these things to him and not stopping her?
"Look around Matthew, everyone's looking at you, judging everything about you. You should leave before they start poking fun in your face. Who knows, maybe Chris will join in, after all, you've been attached to him like a puppy, seeking his attention and validation."
His eyes dart around the party, his tremors growing worse seeing everyone looking at him.
Meanwhile, Chris was starting to grow concerned. He noticed the way Matt zoned out, staring off into the crowd of people. He noticed the way his breathing had become labored, his face turning almost green as if he was going to be sick. He noticed the way his hands started to shake, the way he swallowed harshly.
He tried to get his attention, nudging him softly, saying his name, even waving a hand in front of his face, but nothing worked.
"Matt!" He finally shouts, drawing the attention of most people.
It seems like the air is punched back into Matt's chest, a loud and harsh gasp leaving his mouth as he snaps his head towards Chris. Their eyes meet, Chris's filled with concern while Matt's hold fear.
"Bro I've been saying your name for like the past five minutes, you good?" Matt goes to answer, but the words die in his throat once more as he sees more people staring at him.
He couldn't do it.
So he quickly left the party, his drink tumbling to the ground as he fled, ignoring the way Chris shouted for him.
A few days later, the three brothers sat in the car parked across the street from a random gas station. They were filming a video and everything was going smoothly until things took a turn.
Chris and Nick, the more passionate ones, had started arguing over who knows what. Matt had tried to intervene, finding the whole thing funny and laughing out. However, Chris and Nick weren't listening, continuing to speak over him.
He catches a glimpse of something moving out the corner of his eye, his eyes darting towards the windshield.
His blood runs cold seeing the same girl from the party, her talon-like fingers sending him a daunting wave. He swallows harshly and rubs at his eyes, hoping that his mind was playing a trick on him. When he looked back at the spot, the girl was gone. He visibly relaxes, letting out a sigh of relief and closing his eyes briefly.
He only has a millisecond of peace, when the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.
"Matthew."
His eyes dart open, immediately landing on the rearview mirror.
All the air leaves his lungs when he sees the familiar black beady eyes staring deep into his soul.
How was she in the car? Who was she? Why aren't Chris and Nick freaking out over this stranger being in their car? He tries to speak, the urge to voice his panic strong, but he gets shut down by Nick.
"Shut the fuck up Matt!''
"See Matt? They don't want to talk to you. They don't even care about you. You're nothing but a pest, an annoying pest who they have to call their brother. I'm sure if they had the chance to continue their career without you, they'd take it. You bring nothing to the channel, besides being a driver that is, that's why they keep you around. otherwise, you're useless."
She says her words nonchalantly, like her words were so right and it was no big deal. She said her words as if they weren't sending him into distress.
"T-thats not t-true..." He says softly, basically a whisper.
She chuckles, pushing her body off the seat and leaning closer so she can whisper in his ear.
"You see the things people say online, your so-called fans calling out your lack of effort. You've heard the way Chris and Nick call you out. you've heard the things they said."
"N-no ... N-no that's not right..." His argument was weak, he and the mysterious girl knew it.
"When are you going to stop lying to yourself?"
"Why are y-you doing this?"
He refuses to turn his head, scared to meet her face to face, knowing she would end up haunting him in his dreams.
"Because...You need to hear the truth, Matthew."
His fingers clench around the wheel, his knuckles turning white with how much tension there is. He's so caught up in the mentally draining conversation he's having, he doesn't even notice his foot starting to push down on the gas pedal, the speedometer reaching 70.
"The people you surround yourself with, the people you call friends and family, they don't like you, they don't want you. They lie to your face Matt, I'm only telling you the truth."
She so convincing without even trying.
He finally turns his head, his blue eyes meeting her dark ones. That same menacing smile makes its way onto her face when she sees the look of realization in his eyes.
She sits back in her seat, waiting for everything to finally play out.
Nick and Chris suddenly realize the sound coming from the car, seeing Matt's foot on the gas pedal as his hand is wrapped around the gear shift.
They freak out, Matt flinching as their yelling is now directed towards him.
"What the hell is wrong with you?! Are you trying to kill us?!"
"Why the fuck are you acting like a dumbass?! What is wrong with you?!"
His breathing becomes labored, knowing that his brothers are mad at him and "hate" him, being too much to handle. He begins to spiral, basically falling out of the car as he swings the door open, ignoring the way Chris and Nick shout for him to come back. He quickly makes his way into the gas station, missing the way the static figure trails behind him as he heads straight for the bathroom. He slams the door shut and locks it, flinging himself into a corner as he tries to breathe. The salty tears pooling in his eyes make him clench them shut.
"Shhh, it's ok Matt, I'm here."
Her voice, her siren-like voice, rings out in the bathroom. He flinches feeling her cold arms embrace him, her attempts at comforting him feeble but somehow working.
"It's ok, it's all going to be ok. I'm the only real friend you have, the only friend you need. it's all going to be ok."
And she was.
She was the only friend he had now, watching over him constantly, haunting him.
He shut everyone out, blocking most of the numbers beside his family and deleting them. He shut out Chris and Nick, leaving the two confused.
They knew he was struggling, Chris telling Nick about the party and how Matt just freaked out. They came to the conclusion that his anxiety was getting bad, they just couldn't understand why it was, or why it happened so quickly.
He stayed cooped up in his room, refusing to leave the house. he also refused to film, leaving the other two no choice but to upload without him. They begged and pleaded for him to come out of his room and spend time with them or film, but each time, they were met with harsh words.
The words hurt, but they didn't give up.
But it seems like Matt did.
He lays in bed staring at the wall with a blank look, the messy room reflecting the mess he called his mind. He feels the bed dip behind him, the all-too-familiar coldness embracing him.
"Isn't this better?" She voices, her nimble fingers tracing his ink-covered arm.
He says nothing, but his silence is loud.
"You don't have to worry about the hate from those fans now. You don't have to worry about the fake friends judging and using you. You're finally at peace now."
She tries to convince him this was right, that this was the best outcome for him, but he can't help but feel like this was wrong.
"So why do I feel like my life is a mess...Everything seemed so good."
He turns towards her, his bloodshot eyes tracing her blurry figure.
"It wasn't good..."
"But it was..." He bites back.
She becomes angry, her fingers suddenly holding his arm tightly. "No it wasn't Matthew. I thought we have been over this, stop lying to yourself!"
He feels this anger form in his chest, an anger he's never felt before. He jumps up from his bed, standing over her with a look of disgust.
"you're lying! Everything was fine until you came along! It wasn't perfect but it was fine! You appeared out of thin air and turned everything to shit!"
"I have never lied to you! Any and everything I said has always been your own thoughts just voiced out loud!" She screams at him, her voice booming and making the ground shake.
He stumbles back, falling to the ground and curling into a ball as she shouts every negative thought he's ever had into the air. His raw and bitten fingers tangle in his greasy and messy hair, tugging at the strands with such force that he can feel the clumps falling out.
"Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!" He begins to scream, his voice raw as tears form in his eyes.
He couldn't handle it anymore.
"Chris, Nick!" He sobs out for his brothers.
The two had heard him talking to himself, giving each other worried glances. But when they heard the shouting and the panicked call out of their names, they jumped up and ran to him. They burst into his room, tripping over each other and the things on the floor as they rushed over to his crying form.
Their stomachs drop seeing him curled up in a fetal position, his eyes bloodshot as he continues to sob and dry heave. They fall to their knees and wrap their arms around him, trying to bring him some type of comfort.
And it works.
They were warm, unlike the mysterious girl with beady eyes who was always cold. He could hear their heartbeats, their words of tender love and care, feeling like a breath of fresh air compared to the harsh words that had been spewed towards him for months.
"I-I'm sorry I-" Nick cuts him off, hugging him even tighter. "Shh, it's ok, it's fine, you're going to be fine, we are going to be fine."
"We got you, you know we always got your back. We're triplets, it's the best bond to have." Chris adds on, wiping Matt's tears away.
"I-I need h-help, I don't w-want to keep feeling like this." Matt says, shaking, still trying to catch his breath and reel himself in. Nick and Chris eye each other, nodding softly before focusing back on Matt.
"We'll get you help, whatever you need to be ok."
The reality was he was still drowning, the cold and harsh waters filling up his lungs and dragging him down, but he was close.
He was close to reaching the surface and he would continue the fight for air.
He stares into her eyes, letting her know this fight isn't over but he plans on winning.
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xanaxspritz · 11 months ago
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【"GAME SET MATCH!"】
an: i've been cooking up this for a while. this is 100% inspired by challengers and i took my time with it. i hope y'all enjoy!!! :D
cw: porn without plot, m/m/f threesome, afab!reader, spitroasting, cum swallowing, creampies, throatfucking, cunniligus, gojo talking you through it, satosugo, slight overstimulation, college athletes!au
word count: 1.2k
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"'toru, this is a dumb idea."
"first one to get her number gets to keep her."
"that's if she even comes."
the boys lay in their beds. satoru laying upside down scrolling through his phone, and suguru lounging, cigarette in hand. asking the hottest girl in D1 tennis to come to their hotel room was a delusional, but bold move. you didn't seem impressed by the invitation, or the obvious flirting that the two were laying heavy on you. but satoru insisted on asking away and here they are, staying up late, an hour past the time that was agreed upon.
"satoru, i'm getting tired," suguru complains.
"you're free to go to sleep. i didn't want to share anyways," he smirks.
a soft knock, rapping three times rings throughout the room. the two exchange glances, and then rush to open the door.
suguru greets you first, smooth and suave, asking about your day and brings you inside the room. satoru follows, hurriedly tossing the scattered clothes on the floor into the closet. you sit on one of the beds, satoru and suguru standing awkwardly above you.
"well," you began. "you invited me over for a reason."
they stare at you intensely for a beat, then immediately sit themselves on either side of you.
"is this a thing you guys do often?" you ask with amusement.
"no," they both say in unison.
satoru cleared his throat., "we just thought..."
"that you were really cute" suguru finished.
you smiled. having two hot guys begging to fuck you was not on your bucket list. but here you were, sandwiched between the top two male players in D1 tennis.
the sexual tension was thick and slightly awkward. they were clearly waiting for you to make a move first.
you start with suguru, placing a small peck on his soft lips, tasting a hint of tobacco. he kisses back, but with more force. satoru watches before nibbling on your neck, leaving kisses up and down your collarbone. you turned your attention to satoru to kiss him. he meets your lips passionately, hungrily swirling his tongue around yours. backing into suguru's arms you the stiff bulge forming in his pants, hands roaming underneath your shirt.
you pulled away, leaving the two to look at you as if you were a piece of delicious cake waiting to be eaten. you stared back.
"kiss," you say.
they hesitate for a moment, before their lips crash into one other's. it was evident enough from the kissed that they really liked each other. you sat back and enjoyed the view for a moment before joining in.
things got hot and heavy quick. not even 5 minutes later you were on your back, panties off, with suguru between your legs and satoru making love to your tits.
"I've been waiting so long for this," suguru whispered into your thighs, before diving into your slick arousal, his finger lazily circling your clit, sending a shiver down your entire body. gojo nibbled and licked on each on of your erect nubs, pulling off of each tit with a loud audible pop.
"ah-god! that feels so good," you cried.
"just like that, baby girl," breathed satoru. "he''s good at that isn't?" nudging his heads towards suguru. "but I've been dying to eat that sweet little pussy, my turn."
suguru looked up in annoyance, reluctancy switching places with satoru. you pawed at suguru's boxers impatiently, eager to get his cock out.
it was big (no surprise there) with a slight curve to the left. you spat on your hand before working his shaft that was hanging above your face, suckling on each testicle hovering over you. suguru moaned, putting his cock into your warm plush mouth, groaning at the way his your lips wrapped around his cock.
while suguru was much more sensual, satoru lapped at your pussy like he was dying of thirst. his tongue flicked your now swollen and used clit, his long, slender fingers pumping in and out of your walls.
you whimpered around suguru's dick which in turn made him fuck your face harder. "she has an amazing mouth, 'toru," said suguru.
"oh? well these lips are really good too," replied satoru muffled in your pussy. you start to squirm from overstimulation of your tired-out clit, but satoru firmly held down your thighs "ah ah don't runaway from me now baby girl. " eyes rolled back in complete bliss, you wondered if it was possible to die of too many orgasms within 24 hours.
"I think she's dying to get fucked," smirked surguru.
"I call dibs. i texted her first."
"no, i definitely wanted her first. you just like to bandwagon."
"not true!"
you giggled and fought to roll your eyes. how typical for them to bicker while you were getting ravaged during a threesome. you flipped yourself over from your back, sliding suguru's cock out of your mouth. you looked up at him with wide doe eyes.
"fuck me please?" you asked. "I kissed you first, its only fair."
suguru chuckled, kissing your forehead, "don't worry 'toru, you'll get turn soon."
satoru pouted between your legs, but eased you over to your knees in doggy position, your pussy prepped and primed for a good fucking. taking suguru's place, he stroked his hard length before holding your head down to take him full.
you couldn't see what was happening behind you. all you could feel was suguru's tip rubbing against your hole, and then letting out a cry you didn't know you were holding in when he pushed in. it felt like he was ripping you wide open with his thick cock, but you eventually found a good rhythm- deep full slow strokes going in and out of your wet cunt.
your moans were muffled by satoru's cock, and with every hard thrust from surguru you took satoru's dick even deeper down your throat, gagging leaving you gasping for air.
"so hot," murmured satoru, pulling your up in a ponytail "she feel good?" he asked suguru.
"mhmm, just divine," he groaned. "so fucking tight. fuck, i don't wanna to pull out."
"then don't," satoru egged him on. "cream inside that pussy, fill her up."
suguru's thrusts became quicker, his heavy balls slapping against your ass. from hazy eyes you watched satoru stroke himself, a trail of spittle connecting your lips to his cockhead.
"that's right, I bet you'd love that huh baby girl? you want his hot cum deep inside you hmm? maybe i should fuck his cum out you..."
"y-yes! I want it inside m-me..."
"give it to her suguru, cum inside her."
"I-im cumming 'toru!" suguru grips your hips as his white hot load fills you up deep inside, at the same time you see sprouts of white liquid dripping down satoru's fist. he rubs the remaining cum on his cocked on your lips, letting you lick his cum-covered fingers clean.
you feel suguru pull out of you, pulling back on his boxers. satoru spreads out on the bed, his softening cock out proudly. and then there was you. what were you suppose to do after a threesome anyway?
"come cuddle with us suguru," satoru smiled, motioning you to come closer next to him. he threw an arm behind your head, while suguru laid on your other side, pulling an arm around your waist. you felt warm and fuzzy.
you don't know how you guys managed, but the three of you slept peacefully and snug on the single queen bed. you may have won the women's championship, but the real award was this night spent together.
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rootspiral · 5 months ago
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Agatha All Along deep dive: episode 7 part 1
(Wandavision entries: [1][2][3])
(AAA entries: ep1 [1][2][3][4] ep2 [1][2][3][4] ep3 [1][2][3] ep4 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][+1] ep5 [1][2][3][4][5] ep6 [1][2][3] ep7 [1][2][3][4][5][6] ep8 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9] ep9 [1][2][3][4][5][6])
ah yes, episode 7, a notoriously low stakes one that people are not emotionally invested in whatsoever. a mere 9.1 on IMDB, nothing to write home about.
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we start with lilia dying, because life and death are a never ending cycle. and also because the people who made this show are evil
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she's like a teardrop. good fucking shot.
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meanwhile billy is marching on, puffing his chest, all stone faced. agatha is pretending to be a nice little guy, to make friends.
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she's really TRYING, okay?
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rio's busy reaping alice's soul, but we don't reveal that until later. and LMAO agatha being all like, I'm gonna be OPEN and HONEST and a good ment- except for that I donwannatalkabouthat
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agatha after she babysits a little boy once, scares him shitless and tries to kill his mom: we CLEARLY had a connection there
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that poor little dash in the subtitles. fighting for its life to convey the chasm of time she leaves between ex and best friend
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LET'S HEAR IT FOR REBECCA WHO RAISED THIS BOY FOR FAR LONGER THAN WANDA OR AGATHA EVER DID
but the unfortunate fact is, wanda still is his mother. or rather, she's the witch who thoughtlessly created him and left a big scar in her wake. he has to deal with all that.
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marvel's powers that be: wanda maximoff is definitely dead-dead
jac schaeffer and co. every chance they get: she sure is!!! *big fat kathryn hahn wink at the camera*
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if they ever do a 'marvel most iconic line' poll we as a fandom are voting for this one. just to be clear.
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I saw some reactors going ooooh it's ho***rts. HOW DARE YOU SIR. that's the wicked witch castle. billy maximoff would never.
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I've been asking myself WHY agatha simply doesn't tell billy about the nature of the Road, not even now that everything else is out in the open. the only answer I can come up with is that the Road is real and it's here and deadly, it's not in any way an illusion. and since the Road is linked to billy's emotional state, we dont' want him to go ballistic one he realizes he's been killing witches. agatha has decided she can only soldier through at this point and get herself and billy's home, they can talk about the implications later. yes, she's really scared of what billy can do.
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I've also been trying to figure out the moon phases:
Full moon - water phase, blue, Jen.
Waning moon - fire phase, red, Alice.
Blood moon or lunar eclipse (still a full moon): spirit phase, purple, Agatha
Waxing moon: air phase, yellow, Lilia
New moon: earth phase, green, Rio
so we get full moon, waning, full moon again, waxing, new moon. they're completely out of order??
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this whole trial is the equivalent of billy calling lilia a slur. no fr it's billy repeatedly beating lilia over the head with a stick and going, reCLAIM IT RECLAIM THE DAMN SLUR YOU WITCH
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i find kathryn hahn as the wicked witch of the west alarmingly hot and i don't know what that says about me
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billy is like, i effin KNEW I'd look this good. oh god, the Road was just an excuse to cosplay as maleficent all along
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i love how these two find themselves alone for five minutes and immediately proceed to BUTCHER a trial. i'm overusing tumblr lingo these days and all, but I still gotta say it: there is one single braincell in this whole coven and lilia has it. it's like leaving two children in charge
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a cursory google search tells me the two sphinxes represent light and darkness, you need to learn how to control both for the chariot to move forward
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she always is!! sort of. kind of. mostly.
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agatha, who's about as spiritual as a q-tip: how hard caN THIS BE
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I can totally see her as a con artist counting cards in vegas
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somehow I cannot picture evanora homeschooling her. or sending her to school at all, for that matter. you know this bitch is self-taught.
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someone with more time than me should totally check if there's any rhyme or reason to the cards these two buffoons drew
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I'm gonna end this entry with lilia's eyes again so it's another nice circle. a fun little ouroboros!
damn patti has such big doe eyes
go to episode 7 part 2
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jeyunhos · 5 months ago
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Reputation | jyh
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pairing: professor!yunho x college student!fem!reader cw: power dynamics, professor x student, cunnilingus, 18+ minors do not interact. Summary: Your creative writing professor is so hot you're about to fail his class. Dying to help you, the both of you figure out a new method to increase your penmanship. A/N: glasses yunho is driving me crazy, you hear me, CRAZY
You ever had a teacher with a sort of reputation? The crazy one, the smelly one, the strict one... There's probably a repertoire of clichés and boxes you could fit every single one of this semester's teachers in, but recently, you had grown fond of one particular class: Creative Writing, with professor Jeong Yunho, the dreamy one.
Yunho had a reputation alright, a reputation as the one teacher every girl fell for. Leave alone his absolutely stunning looks, he was kind, patient, and gentle, an all-rounder of a teacher who could instruct a rock on how to write wonderful pieces if he put his mind to it.
One problem, you didn't care for his class at all. Sure, it was fun to try but you were close to failing due to your enormous crush on the man, and you figured your were doomed to continue that way, since the only way to get over him, was to get under him.
You were busy daydreaming about being tied to his office chair as you walked the corridors when you heard your name bounce off the walls and a light trotting behind you. You were snapped back to reality and turned around only to see professor Yunho himself joining you with a huff of his cheeks.
"Phew! I got to catch you." he said excitedly, panting lightly from the sudden outburst of energy he had used.
"Professor" you started, trying to hide your delight and surprise "Is something wrong?" you asked, wondering what he would probably need you for.
"Do you have ten minutes before you head home? I've got to talk to you about your recent piece." in between his large hand he wiggled a foldered set of printed sheets with your most recent submission written on them.
"Sure, right here?" you asked, looking around at the vast prying eyes around you.
He answered with a shake of his head "Join me in my office for a bit."
You followed behind the man through the crowded maze that your school was, he was fast due to his long legs, and hence you were walking slightly behind him. The breeze would carry a bit of his cologne into your nose whenever it blew, heightening the infatuation you already held for him.
Rumors were also true, he was a complete gentleman. The second you got to his office he opened the door and moved aside to let you past and held the chair out for you to sit.
"So," he started as he fixed his suit jacket the moment he sat down "I'm worried about your final grade." Yunho went straight to the tone, which let you know that whatever fantasy you were having about being bent over the desk was not happening.
"What do you mean?" you feigned innocence, knowing damn well that you were close to repeating the class. Well, not that you would mind staring at him for another whole semester, but it wasn't exactly something you could afford.
"Yes, however..." he started, pulling the file open to look at the printed version of your work "Despite having submitted every assignment, your scores have been constantly low and that's because," he cleared his throat, as if trying to find less harsh words to describe your work "the pieces are just not good."
You felt a blush, proof of your embarrassment, creep around your face through your neck, your sight lowered in shame, something he immediately noticed. Your final project was writing a short story about romance, with a twist, and an ending of your choice.
"Let's go over some lines slowly" he said with a gentle, charming smile "For example, this one 'in that moment they felt they were falling in love'" he explained. "Do you see what is wrong with that line?"
"They weren't falling in love?" you asked innocently, not really sure of what he wanted you to answer.
Your little joke caused him to laugh in the form of a chuckle. He was mostly amused by the hardness of your head. He leaned backwards and looked up at you.
"Have you ever been in love?" he asked nonchalantly, as if he was asking 'how have you been?' to an old friend.
With you, you thought to yourself, but of course that couldn't leave your lips.
"Not exactly sure." you admitted finally.
He let out a sigh and nodded mostly to himself .
"In writing, you don't really want to tell the audience what the characters are doing or feelings are experimenting, it reduces imagination to a mere instruction." he explained "You want to tell them about everything else but the actual feeling. So, say, if the characters were falling in love, instead of saying it straight out, you want to describe the way their hearts raced, or how they couldn't pry their eyes from each other despite the chaos around them, or how they longed for something so much more than a mere graze of their lips." he tried to explain to you, but in your face he could see you were not grasping it. "But I guess that's hard if you've never experienced it first hand."
You nodded along with every bit of his explanation, and there was a hint of disappointment and hurt on your face when he finally finished his sentence.
Picking up on this, he gently tapped his hands on the desk and reincorporated himself to lean forward "Let's try something else." he proposed, catching your attention "I'll give you a week, rewrite the thing, but don't do romance, do erotica instead." he asked with a smile on your face.
"Erotica?" you inquired, quite surprised by this new task.
"It's hard to say we have experienced love" he said "But we've all been aroused, it's in our programming as mammals" with a grin, he handed the folder over to you "All my notes are there, write some erotica, send it to my e-mail, and we can talk about your final grade, alright?"
With a swipe of his hand, he ended up dismissing you. You obliged and left the office, albeit reluctantly since being alone with him had been a delight, and headed home to begin working.
Not that you were foreign to fantasizing about sexual scenarios, especially involving him, but putting them into words was a whole other ordeal. 'We all have been aroused' these words resonated in your head, and so, you got all hands on deck.
Four days later, your final manuscript was in his inbox, and only a few hours afterwards you got another e-mail:
[email protected]: Please meet me at 8:00pm in my office to discuss the grade.
8? That was kind of late, but you figured he was in a rush since the semester was ending soon and all the final grades had to be uploaded to the school online system. Plus, it's not like you were exactly in the position to refuse anything, your passing grade was at stake.
You dolled yourself up a bit right before the agreed time, just in case you figured, and went on your merry way. The university halls were creepily abandoned due to the late hour save for some offices with the lights still on, part of being the end of the semester you guessed, and it made you feel uneasy; said feeling disappeared almost immediately once you reached the right door. "Professor Jeong Yunho" it read.
"Come in" you heard a raspy voice call after you knocked.
He himself was a sight to behold. Hair slightly disheveled, suit jacket laid over the back of the chair, black turtleneck shirt on. He looked tired and felt like so.
"So?" you said with a cheery voice, trying to lighten the mood, as you approached the chair.
He let out a sigh, similar to last time but now more exasperated "Still not good." he blurted out.
You could tell his guard was down, because the Yunho you knew as your teacher wouldn't talk so roughly, yet there was something thrilling about said demeanor, something inherently hot to seeing him so worked up.
"You keep describing the actions, this is even worse than the romance one." he added some salt to your wound "'they kissed roughly and she was pinned down to the bed'? This is not a report, this is supposed to be exciting, where's the erotism, the magnetism, the-" as he was ranting on his own with you sitting across his desk, looking amiss of words to be honest, he stopped himself half way when he came to a sudden realization.
"The...?" you tried to ask once he was staring at you in utter silence.
"Close your eyes." he ordered.
"What?" despite your eagerness to obey him, almost naturally, you had to double check that you were listening correctly
"We're going to do a little exercise, close your eyes." he said once more.
You finally obliged and shut your lids. You weren't entirely sure what was happening around you, but promptly you felt a presence behind you.
"I'm going to do a couple of things, I want you to describe to me how you feel when I do them." you could tell he was the presence you had felt from the direction of his voice.
Fuck. You had to be careful, this was getting dangerous. Despite your eagerness to be his little toy, you knew if you didn't tread lightly you could find yourself reported or expelled if he didn't feel the same. So, you made a mental note to actually pay attention and figure out if this little predicament could work out in your favor.
As you were conjuring your evil plan in your brain, he began to work on his own. You felt the tip of his fingers on the back of your hands, slowly crawling up through your forearms, your biceps, and finally your shoulders.
"Talk to me" he urged when you didn't respond "How do you feel?" he repeated himself.
"Warm." you said out loud, your eyes still shut.
It's not like you weren't trying, really, but his touch had wiped your mind blank effectively.
His head shook firmly in disappointment, there was no getting through to you no matter how complex the method he was using, and how certainly... risky. But he couldn't deny this new way was getting him excited, possibly in ways it was not exactly code-of-conduct-appropriate.
"I'll help you." he leaned over further to repeat the movement he had done seconds before, his head hovering next to your ear. "When I touch your hand your skin feels soft, almost silk-like. I grow curious, so my hands travel further up, your forearm is delightful, it sets within me a hunger I can only sasiate with the subtle violence of a bite, but I can't bring myself to do it, not just yet, there's so much I want to explore, so I continue my path until I get to your neck."
His words were beyond arousing to you. The way his hands and body mimicked everything he spoke of was setting your skin ablaze. You wanted him badly, and you had made it your resolve to finally get him to sleep with you, you didn't know how, but you were determined to lead him where you wanted.
"Try again." he instructed, his hands moving away from your neck. "Tell me how you feel."
You were slightly disappointed at the lack of contact, and you were worried you might have missed your window. However, something else entirely caused a gasp out of you. His lips were now grazing the base of your neck and you could feel the hot breath that came out of his mouth straight onto your skin.
"My skin feels like crawling with heat," you began to say "A tingle travels from my hand, following your touch all the way up to my neck; my expectations grow and I wonder just how far you will take this. Your lips wake the goosebumps whenever they touch, and I crave to feel them over my body."
As you spoke, you could lightly hear his breath hitch and, for a second, you could swear he was going to do it, he was going to kiss your neck, but he stopped.
"Seems like you got it" he said as he pulled back after clearing his throat. He moved from behind your chair to lean against his desk, his rear almost laying on it; his arms were crossed over his chest once you opened your eyes.
"Hardly" was all you could say, and you stole a glance at how his pants seemed to have gotten tighter on the front.
"Hardly?" he asked, his head tilting "Is there anything else you're struggling with?"
It was going to be like that, huh? He was not going to drop the teaching charade. Well, you knew a thing or two about playing the student in despair.
You stood up from where you were sitting and walked over to Yunho, your hands hidden innocently behind your back. He was getting a kick out of it, you could tell, perhaps Mr. Jeong was a lot more sinful that he looked at bare glances; well, you'd indulge him.
"Kisses, for example, how do you go from 'looking at each other' to 'kissing' without saying something lame like, I don't know, 'they kissed'?" now you were guiding the situation to where you wanted it to go, you figured.
"Well, with kisses you want to start slow, not quite jump right to it." he began to explain, still keeping his intellectual facade "Like..." he continued, his hand slowly raising to land on the back of your neck, his fingers playing lightly with the back of your hair. His eyes landed on yours and you could finally feel the desire that had been pooling between your legs mirrored in the darkness of his pupils "...this."
Once he finished his sentence he leaned in closer, his lips brushed yours and you tried to close the gap, but he pulled back the slightest. 'Fuck' you thought, but the second you wanted to pull back the hand that was holding your neck forced you otherwise.
Your lips melted together with his almost immediately and he had to inhale a sharp breath; it was only innocent for a couple of seconds, because after his free arm snaked around your waist, his palm to your lower back, all logic fell off the window. From both parts.
The chaste, educational kiss faded quickly and was replaced by his tongue brushing against your bottom lip in attempt to ask for entrance, a permission that was granted immediately. He was exploring the entirety of your mouth, ravishing on the taste of your tongue against his.
It wasn't long before both of you were consumed by the unmistakable desire to break one sacred rule, of diving into unexplored taboo of sleeping with your teacher. He picked up on it rather quick, and shortly he was pulling away.
He bounced himself off his desk and his hands guided you by the hips to turn around, flipping your positions. His hand was certainly gentle, but with such sturdiness you wouldn't even dare disobey his silent commands. One of them held your hair and pushed it down, bending you over his desk with your clothes still on.
This last statement didn't remain true for long, as his needy fingers quickly dived on your lower garments, dipping roughly inside the waistbands and pulling down altogether.
His lips pursed at the sight of your bare ass and cunt all laid down for him, his right thumb trailing your slit and clit teasingly.
"I don't have to narrate what happens next, do I?" he asked. It was his own version of asking for consent.
"I'll still take notes." you teased back, looking over your shoulder.
He let out an amused chuckle and you saw him begin fumbling with his zipper. There was a rumor that he was packing down there, and you were now confirming it with your own eyes. Not ginormous, but certainly a bit above average.
From his pocket, he pulled out a condom which he carefully ripped open to roll it over his shaft; once securely wrapped, he positioned himself on your entrance and slowly began to push it. The slightly painful stretch was delightful, poetic almost, to you.
"You okay?" he grunted under his breath, trying his best to not start pouding right away.
You simply replied with a positive hum and that was everything he needed. With enough force he began to thrust into you, deep and sensual at the beginning, and you could feel him gradually getting rougher.
You were smart enough to keep your moans at bay, but when he started to push all the way in to the point it felt like rearranging you, it became harder and harder. He couldn't be sure that there weren't other teachers around, since it was still around eight thirty, so he had to help you somehow; one of his hands as kept on your hip as grip and the other one had to be pressed up against your mouth. The palm was so wide it almost covered your nose too, and he was extra careful not to accidentally suffocate you.
As a result, your head was pulled back and slightly to the side where he was pressing from, leaving an area of your neck free to his admiration. His thrusts continued to pick up the pace and roughness, and at some point they became so strong the desk began to slide backwards, making an annoying, dragging sound with every thrust.
Yunho was forced to let go of your hip and bend over to hover over you. He was tall enough that his head reached yours and his hand was able to hold the other edge of the desk to stop it from dragging on the floor. As a consequence, your skin was near his lips once more, and he decided to give in to his previous temptation and bite down gently on your skin, leaving a hot mark behind but not a bruise.
"I can't hold back much longer." he said into your ear in an almost apologetic tone.
Your agreement was muffled by his hand, but you let him know it was okay. He continued to grunt and pant heavily against your skin with rough, powerful thrusts into your cunt, but the rhythm was more erratic, and you could tell he was close.
Finally, with a moan of your name that he muffled with your neck, he came.
Being honest, you were a little disappointed that you hadn't gotten to orgasm yourself, but having fucked him was already prize enough, you were not about to get greedy on an already wrong and thoroughly enjoyable sexual encounter.
As you were sunked in these thoughts, he pulled out from you and began fixing his clothes rather quickly. Following his lead, you leaned back up and reached down to pick up your own until his voice stopped you.
"Woah, woah, what are you doing?" he asked, reaching quickly after putting himself back in his pants to avoid you from putting your own back up. "No, no." he continued quickly, his free hand bending you over once more. "Rule number one of erotica: the woman is never left unsatisfied."
You weren't sure what he meant by that, was he going to fuck you again? Maybe, but you weren't sure he could just right away, sure he was young but.. oh.
The long lap at your clit from behind surprised you greatly and caused a long, quiet moan out of you. You could feel him lapping and sucking at your slit with renewed energy, and it was driving you insane just how well he was eating you out.
As he continued his ministrations with his tongue from behind, one of his thumbs reached for your clit, circling it slowly and deliberately, he knew pretty damn well where everything was and he was not about to be shy about it.
Your legs began to tremble, and he was moaning into your womanhood with every taste of it which only added fuel to the fire within you. It wasn't long before you started to feel the familiar tingle on your stomach., and seconds later you allowed yourself to cum against his mouth.
Satisfied with his performance and having reached his goal, he helped you with your clothes back up and walked over back to his chair with you still bent over the desk as you regained your composure. His head tilted so his cheek was almost touching the wooden surface and he could be eye-level with you.
"I expect your story by tomorrow, okay?" he said with an innocent smirk.
"Yes, professor" you said in between pants before you raised to your feet again "And thank you, this was very useful." you added.
That night, you went back to your home and began writing in extreme detail everything that man had done to you; all while changing names, locations, and times, of course. Nothing more erotic than keeping a secret, after all.
The story came out naturally and easily, with a newfound talent that you could have sworn was not there before, somehow Jeong Yunho had managed to fuck it out of you, and so, when you began to struggle with the last lines of your work, the image of his smiling face gave you a strike of genius:
'..and as the young girl hardly waddled out of the room, feeling refreshed, brought anew, she came to the realization that some men really do live up to their reputation."
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kfaem · 7 months ago
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play video games with the LADS
i feel bad for not writing more for xavier but i honestly dont know how to write his character all too well
also i did go a bit heavier with sylus lol, sorry about that
also warning for cursing and probably ooc for xav and raf, im a sylus and zayne girly so i focused more on them lol
Zayne
I feel like our doctor would lowkey love farming/life sims like Harvest Moon, Stardew Valley, etc. cause he'd like the mundane grind of it all.
you'd introduce him to Stardew and leave for like 3 hours to do some errands and whatnot and when you return his farm is like fully functional and he's already rich.
when you ask how in the ever loving shit he got so far he said he just played the game as he saw fit. which also includes him doing the tasks on the board at Pierre's.
now whenever you both have free time, you two sit down and play a game together, enjoying the calm that it gives while making Zayne feel like he isn't doing nothing.
Sylus
i feel like he'd enjoy fps games?? but like, not accurate ones, yk, he wants to play a fps that has magic and shit in it.
he wouldn't play alone since he gets bored too fast, he needs you there with him.
dies "accidentally" so you have to revive him every few minutes, he'll sigh, leaning back on the sofa before looking at you, who is absolutely glaring at him for dying for the third time in a ten minute period.
whenever you visit, you two have a habit of sitting down and playing together, cuddled together with the lights dimmed and some snacks and beverages of choice (hot chocolate, tea, coffee, maybe some alcohol wanted)
he acts like he doesnt enjoy it all that much, but it really is some of his favourite times spent with you.
also, the twins have interrupted you guys a few times. they're pretty wicked at whatever games you guys end up playing too lol (pico park with sy and the twins? ultimate rage, the angriest you've ever been)
Xavier
isn't it canon that he's really good at video games? i could see him joining you in games like powerwash sim, a little to the left, or crime scene cleaner.
he'd probably want to play something thats more gameplay heavy (i've never played but i could see him playing the zelda games) but he honestly just wants to be close to you so anythings fine
the slower games dont keep him as well energized so be ready to nudge him awake when you two are in the middle of a powerwash sim map.
Rafayel
house flipper, unpacking, dress to impress
anything that includes fashion/design he is so fucking in dude, gets actually invested in dti and hates playing in most of the lobbies since those kids dont know how to vote for REAL fashion
at some point he kinda tunes you out and gets really invested in what game hes playing. its not that he doesnt want to pay attention to you, he just really wants to do his absolute best and if he focuses too heavy on what you're talking about (ie. shit talking the children in the lobby who are not sticking to theme)
after hes done with the task he zones in on, his attention is fully back on you and you guys will collectively bash the others who arent on theme
he calls it a bonding moment between you two
when one or both of you make it on the podium, he gets excited beyond comprehension lol
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denjjisgf · 1 year ago
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SHE LIVES IN MY LAP
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megumi fushiguro x reader
SYNOPSIS ✧˚⋆。 in an unexpected turn of events, you find yourself falling into the sheets with a new friend. as the days get shorter and nights no longer sticky and hot, your insatiable summer hookup appears to be more than just a seasonal arrangement.
CONTENT WARNINGS✧˚⋆。 general: 18+ minors dni, alcohol consumption, megumi is a fuckboy sex!! minors dni!!! nsfw: afab (she/her) reader, vaginal sex, oral (m&f! receiving), 69ing, m! masturbation
W/C✧˚⋆。9.1k 
AUTHOR'S NOTE✧˚⋆。 hihi! it's been so long since i've written anything. this a repost of a series i decided to scrap, i've decided to come back from the dead to finish it in a one- shot! i hope everyone likes it __〆( ̄ー ̄ )
playlist
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JUNE✧˚⋆
notification center:
[ suguru:: we’ll be there in ten. make sure to bring sunscreen! ]
[ satoru:: and make sure to wear something skimpy ;) ]
you set down your phone with huff, trying to suppress a chuckle at your friends. checking the time one last time, you scramble to get the last of your things, tossing everything and anything in your bag. three rasps at the door stops you in your tracks, your sandal clad feet patter to your front door as you wonder who could possibly be here. standing in the frame was gojo, forearm lazily propped against the wood, leaning into you with a proud look on his face. 
“you guys said ten minutes, it’s been three, satoru. i’m still not ready.”
cerulean eyes peer down at you over gojo’s staple circle frames, a smug smile adorning his face as he gives you a quick up and down look. “well, good thing you still have time to change. i said skimpy, i know you can do better,” he says with a smile and mocking tone. almost as if it was rehearsed, the lanky silver fox’s partner in crime pops his head out behind gojo’s shoulder. “don’t be mean satoru!” suguru says with a playful slap on gojo’s shoulder. “you look great, y/n. let’s head out!”
the car ride to the docks is just as you had expected: chaotic. the two men argued the entire way, each one convinced they knew the best way to a place they have never been too. and at gojo’s instance, the three of you ended up taking a twenty minute detour in the wrong direction. when you finally pull into the dirt parking lot, suguru turns in his seat to face you in the backseat, “we’re here,” he says, a hand scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. “sorry about the confusion earlier. satoru said he looked up directions before we left, but i should’ve known better than to trust him.” 
“what are you talking about? look! we are here!” gojo’s exclaims pridefully, swinging open his door and stepping out. he stretches, hands linking together over his head with a sigh, his loose t-shirt raising just a little to expose his milky white skin and toned body. “and it’s all thanks to my great directional skills.”
your door opens suddenly, suguru’s head peeking inside wearing his gentle and familiar smile, linking his arm with yours to pull you out of the backseat. “so,” you turn to suguru questioningly, “how exactly do you two know these people?” 
instead, gojo replies, quick and concise. sneaky almost. “close friends. we go way back. i practically raised those kids, taught ‘em everything they know.” suguru snickers at his friend’s words, the pair exchanging a dangerous glance that, if you didn’t know them as well as you did, you would’ve missed. “almost a little too well, if you asked me,” the dark hair man added, lips upturned into an innocent smile, but eyes deadly and secretive. all too knowing if you said so yourself. the two men continued on the path towards the docks where the party was being held, long strides keeping themselves paces ahead of you, ending the conversation abruptly. 
“what’s that supposed to mean?” you shout expectantly, patiently waiting for an answer, but dying on the inside to know.  suguru stops in his tracks, head looking over his shoulder and gaze falling on your own.
“what’s the fun in telling you now?”
ᰔ summer was megumi’s favorite time of year. it always brought his favorite things: reckless decisions and girls in bikinis. he made a sport of feeding hot girls sugar sweet words like frozen strawberry daiquiris, serenading them into his bed night after night. his friends’ annual summer kickoff party was his ideal playing field, so many people, so many choices, he never knows where to start. 
you see, there are several factors that went into the tradition of their party. now that he and nobara left for college, yuuji, commuting locally, prepared the get to together in their arrival. a proper summer kickout. on the surface level, it appeared to be a fun, festive way for people to get shitfaced, washing away the stress and anxiety of finals with clear liquor and cheap beer, but for megumi, it was so much more than that. when summer finally rolls around, the heat melts off layers of clothes, making everyone hot and bothered in other ways besides the weather. it’s everyone’s fantasy to have a silver screen summer fling, after all, no one wants to spend the hottest time of year alone. this party was the perfect setting for lonely women to lay some groundwork and find the perfect rent-a-boyfriend for three months. and what’s better than horny, hopeful women?, megumi thought. 
megumi plays his role of the cool, calm, and collected silent guy like a pro, having girls all on him or stealing glances and fluttering their lashes when he comes around. he smiles to himself, scrolling through the new additions to his contacts list. the familiar ring of laughter causes his ears to perk up, raising his head to find the friendly faces of gojo and suguru. trailing behind them was someone he had never met. 
who, are you?  
his stare drifted to meet gojo’s, the white haired man pushing his sunglasses down to the bridge of his nose and raising an eyebrow with a taunting smirk. megumi didn’t need words to know what gojo was telling him- come say hello, i know you want to. he turns to face the other direction, legs moving to walk as far away from you before curiosity gets the best of him and he caves into gojo’s all too tempting game. 
nursing a solo cup filled with god knows what, megumi stalks you the entire party. he can’t seem to take his eyes off you, being short and brash when girls come up to him, focus completely astray and only on you. his eyes widen, swallowing thickly as he watches suguru and gojo tug and pull at your coverup, nudging you to undress and get in the water with them. gojo pulls your hands into his own, holding them up above your head. he yanks you closer, bringing your face inches from his own causing you to recoil into suguru’s chest, ass pressed firmly to the front of his hips. turning to look his younger friend dead in the eyes, the smallest glint of daring challenge reflecting in suguru’s dilating pupils, fingers teasingly playing with the hem of your sundress. 
megumi glares. hard. jealousy disguised as irritation, his jaw ticks at the spectacle his friends are putting on. regardless, he feels himself get warm, fidgeting with the collar of a shirt that he wasn’t wearing and readjusting the discomfort in his swim trunks. he watches, making eye contact with suguru, who has long since abandoned his hovering position and settled below you, face in front of your ass. large hands slide the flowy fabric up your thighs, bunching it at the tops of your hips and sliding a finger under the waistband of your bikini bottoms, snapping it against your skin. you gasp at the sudden smack to your sensitive skin, your mouth making a pretty o shape that has megumi’s eyes rolling. “oops, my bad i didn't mean to snag you there,” the dark haired man purrs, soothing the sting with a careful rub. you shove the two of them away, a scowl dressed on your face, “i can undress myself without the help of you idiots. what are you doing?” despite your tone, megumi can clearly see your frazzled state, red blush spread across your cheeks and chest. 
you dirty girl, i bet you liked that, huh?
megumi’s mind was running a hundred miles an hour. he couldn’t stand to be here anymore. you had long abandoned your dress and your bathing suit left little to the imagination. the straps of your top digging into your neck, triangles cover the bare minimum of your breasts leaving them spilling out the sides. sitting down in a lounger, he faked innocence, sunglasses set high on the bridge of his nose to cover his wandering eyes. he kept a close eye on you throughout  the party, observing the way your body moved as you danced, as you emerged from the water, wet and dripping.
the last straw was when suguru and gojo convinced you to join them at the makeshift bar on the shore. the two men took turns mixing you drinks in plastic cups, laughing at your pinched face as you downed drink after drink, the bitter taste of alcohol making you stick your pretty, pink tongue out in disgust. yet, you continued to take cups from your friends, enjoying the light fuzziness and lowered inhibitions taking over your body. raising your cup to you lips, suguru tipped the bottom to make you down the contents, the burning sensation of liquor running down your throat and trickling out of the corners of your shiny lips. long slender fingers pluck the plastic cup from your hands with a chuckle, “woahh, slow down there. you’re making an awful mess of yourself.” gojo tilts your face up to his own and checks to make sure megumi is watching. he brings his thumb to swipe away the remnants of the sticky liquid running down your chin and licks it off his finger. that’s it, megumi thought, standing up from his seat to leave the party, his nerves beyond irritated from his friend’s incessant dick measuring. 
“yo! megumi!” yuuji calls out, running towards his raven haired friend. “do me a favor and run up the road to get some ice bags! the beers are drowning in warm water right now,” with a firm grasp on your wrist, the energetic boy spins you away from your conversation and straight into a stranger with a thud. your hand laid flat against the expanse of their chest, holding yourself steady from yuuji’s previous uncontrolled movements. 
“i even found you a buddy to go with you! megumi, meet y/n.”
“it’s, uhm-” he falters, hints of crimson bashfully spread over his cheeks, conscious of the heat your palm emanates onto his bare skin, manicured nails scratching lightly over his peck and sending shivers down his spine. he felt like a fool, finally getting the opportunity to have you and all he can do is fumble over his words. your doe eyes were wide and glossy from the alcohol, and what only you know as desire. looking into his eyes, dark and narrowed, attention solely focused on you, you feel yourself get hot. shy almost. you chalk it up to being tipsy bordering on drunk. 
“c’mon bro, take the keys,” the jingle of car keys cut short as megumi brings his hand up to catch the lanyard haphazardly tossed at him. “now hurry up! everyone’s waiting!” megumi rolls his eyes and takes your hand in his own, dragging you towards the parking lot. “hold on, let me tell my friends i’m leaving! what if you kill me or something?” 
“don’t worry about it, gojo and geto were invited here by me. you’ll be fine.” you stop in your tracks, almost losing your balance in the soft sand, “wait, so you’re the one who invited us.” 
“invited them, you mean. just,” he sighs with frustration,”let’s go, i want to get there and back.” he drops your hand and begins to walk away, leaving you in his shadow. “are you coming or not?” he asks, looking over his shoulder, low eyes and the smallest of smiles, willful temptation written all over his face. 
“yea. i’m coming.” 
leaving a few steps of space between yourselves, megumi leads you through the maze of the parking lot. stopping at a car you can only assume as yuuji’s, you watch the dark haired boy squeeze his way to the passenger’s side door and opening it. “i’ve been drinking, i really shouldn’t drive.” 
he sighs, shoulders dropping in exasperation as if he can’t believe the words that just came out of your mouth. in an instant, you feel his hand wrapped delicately around your wrist, fingers hovering over your pulse point, your heart beating faster as he slides you front of him and ushers you into the seat. he leans into you, faces inches from yours and eye contact never breaking. for just a moment, the two of you drink in the sights of each other. you admire the faint scatter of sun blessed freckles on the bridge of his nose, the curvature of his lips, soft and slightly pouted. and in this moment, you can’t help but find him attractive. just for a moment though. 
“don’t you think i know that? you practically crawled on all fours to catch up.”
he moves swiftly, pulling the seat belt over your lap, clicking it into place. you look to the side, avoiding his stare and he can do everything but ignore the subtle pink dusting across the highpoints of your face, the smallest of indents forming as you bit the inside of your cheek, deep in thought. you were bothered by his words and he loved it. something about seeing you like this, annoyed and bothered. he needed to see more. as wrong as it was, he was losing it, he could feel himself being pushed to the edge, the threads of intricate control being snipped, leaving him loose and fraying. megumi loved his flirtatious games too much, but needed more time to pull you apart, like lovesick girls do to flowers, petal after petal till nothing was left. bare. 
“too tight?” he asks. you shake your head, unable to speak, words unspoken on your tongue and thoughts void from you mind, plucked away by his nimble touch and wrapped around his finger. “let’s go then.”
ᰔ “soo,” his hand meets to back of your headrest. “do you like to cuddle?” he cranes his neck, hooded eyes low and lazy as he searches the back windshield, reversing from the parking spot. 
your faces twists with displeasement, jaw dropped and eyebrows knitted together, “what kind of fucking question is that?”
“the kind of question to get you to make that face,” his voice honeyed and teasing as he counters your expected response. silence fills the car, satisfaction spread out in a small smile and slightly crinkled eyes as megumi soaks in your frazzled reaction. he likes to see you irritated, to push your buttons. megumi likes to toy with headstrong women, to make them whining messes for an arrogant man. an asshole. you could practically hear the winning bell ring: megumi, one. his game of banter beginning with your speechless defeat. 
but he was gorgeous. his hair dark and perfectly messy, his bangs swooped low enough to shape his face but show off his eyes. colored like a storm, you could stare into them for hours. the summer sun did his justice, his tanned skin glistening under its magnification. a physique of the gods, you try not to stare and he pretended not to notice. 
you settle into your seat, the alcohol catching up and sending your head spinning. watching out the window, you fall into your thoughts, figuring out a way to break the silence. “so what’s your deal?” you exclaim, folding your hands into your lap and turning to look at megumi, focused on the road and contently ignoring you. “i know you have so much going on inside that pretty little head of yours.”
“y’know, i saw you drink a lot, maybe you should stop talking and save these questions for later? maybe when you’re sober?” 
you roll your head to your shoulder to turn to him with small smirk. oh, so he wants to be like that, “and i saw you talking to a lot of girls, maybe you should stop being a slut?”
he chuckles, side eyeing you with a playful glare and a tick in his jaw, clearly enjoying the banter. “i bet you think you’re real funny.” 
“and you must think you’re cute. we all have our flaws, megumi.” 
he slides his palm along the wheel, turning into a parking spot and bringing the car to a stop. he hops out of the driver’s side, jogging around front of the car and opens your door. he follows you over to the white cooler in the front of the convenience store where you play with the padlock, the hinges creaking as pull the handle open. 
reaching into the ice cooler you tug on the bag relentlessly. megumi brings his hand to grip onto the door’s frame, leaning in behind you, his breath shallow and warm against the shell of your ear. “do you need help?” the sheeted ice cementing the plastic down to the bottom of the container loosens as it cracks, “from you? no thanks.” you lean down into the cooler to yank on the bag with better leverage, determined to prove a point: you did not need help, and you didn’t need megumi either. the plastic tears from the bag and your hand flies up causing you to stumble backwards, banging your head on the roof of ice box. you yelp, quick to bring a hand up to your throbbing head, wincing at the touch. you turn to lean your back against the cool metal only to be met by megumi, who takes the opportunity to get closer, his hands cupping your face with concern. he makes room for himself between your legs, inching closer to you, “are you alright? does it hurt?”
he leans in closer as he flits his gaze from your eyes to your lips as if he’s done this a million times.
it all happens so fast. you blink and he’s rushing you, pressing his lips firmly against your own. you tug at his shirt, opening your mouth when he runs his tongue over your bottom lip tantalizing slow, tasting you thoroughly. you both walk backwards, lost in the kiss, until you feels the hood of the car hit the back of your calves. you break away from each other panting lightly, your hand caressing alongside his jaw and his own planted firmly on your waist. you nod your head, motioning towards the car and he smiles.
he can’t keep his hands off of you. his hand scrambles to open the door, too distracted by the curves of your body, missing the handle a few times. you grab onto his shoulder, ushering him a few steps forward, pushing him in front of you to make room for the door as it swings open. “get inside,” he whispers shakily. his mind is racing, his voice long gone of its normal confidence to command.
you fall back, your skin making contact with the leather, hot to the touch and sticking to your sweat sheened back. you run your fingers through his hair as lowers to meet you, his knee bent between your legs, one hand parting your thighs, inviting himself in. scrambling back to make room, you seat yourself back pressed against the inside door. his hand comes up to the window with a slap, bracing himself above of you. your hand cradles his face, your thumb stroking along his jaw, before enveloping his lips with yours once again. you taste sweet like peaches, hints of tequila on your tongue as you take turns welcoming each other into your mouths. you mimic his breathless moans of pleasure and fill the car with your whines, your hips colliding with his thigh as you mindlessly grind against him. your kisses become sloppy, teeth gnashing and spit everywhere, desperation and need filling both of you to the brim. 
clutching his shirt in your fist, you use the momentum to push him into seat position, swinging one knee over his leg, and grounding yourself in his lap. he kisses you feverishly, his head light and spinning, completely overwhelmed by the intoxicating taste of you. adrenaline coursed through his veins at your movements, hips grinding slowly on top of him, relieving the pain of his aching cock. you thread your hands through his hair, carding through his soft locs before tugging his head back to expose his neck. a moan slips from his lips, pink, spit slicked and swollen while you smear kisses on his collarbone. he paws at your chest, he pulls your breasts out from your bikini top, taking a moment to admire you. 
“you’re so hot. i haven’t been able to take my eyes off of you since i saw you,” he groans, a palm pressed to the small of your back he leans into you, taking your nipple into his mouth. you bring a hand up to rest on the crown of his head, moans spilling from your lips, coaxing him to continue. he eats up all of you. mentally recording every inch of your body, every cry sounding heaven in his ears, just to shamelessly replay this moment for his convenience. his hips cant with yours, messily grinding for relief when he reaches to pull his trunks down. “m-megumi, wait,” you plead and cup his face with both hands. he stops, panting between the valley of your chest, catching his breath while nuzzling against you. “not now, not here.” 
the two of you drove back to the lake in silence. separately your thoughts run wild at what just happened. pulling into a parking spot, megumi turns to you in the passenger’s seat, mouth agape slightly, the words you both want to hear on the tip of his tongue. he needs to see you again. the last thing megumi had expected this morning was to share a heated makeout session in the backseat of his best friend’s car with a borderline stranger. he never acts out of impulse, every decision thought out and calculated with precision. what you both had done crossed so many lines in megumi’s mind. honestly, what was he thinking?! it was broad daylight, parked in front of a mini convenience shop, while on a trip the two of you managed to stretch 20 minutes longer than it should have. he should be racked with guilt. he should be ashamed of his lack of self control. and if he was smarter, he should have never agreed to leave with you when yuuji asked. but something festered deep inside him, flipping up every stone of reason and leaving the boy on his hands and knees, grasping at the cool, level-headed persona he once had down to a t. 
twisting your head slightly, you scanned his face, searching for a clue- anything- to what he might say next. your fingers drummed on the car door, suddenly self conscious under his scrutinizing gaze. almost as if he sensed your discomfort, megumi drops his head down low to meet your eyes, a feather light slide of his fingers under your chin to draw you closer. a breath stops dead in your throat at his close proximity, noses grazing against one another as his takes his lower lip in between his teeth before looking sideways out the windshield. yuuji comes barreling at you two with an open smile, two cans held sloppily in both hands.
“‘s about time! what took so long? were you guys fucking or something?” he stutters out, a drunken flush to his sun kissed skin. megumi chokes at his friend’s comment, his adam’s apple bobbing nervously and guilt so obviously displayed on his face. you elbow him, motioning to grab the bags of ice in the backseat. you watch his arm reach down, the muscles in his bicep and forearms flexing deliciously, making your head spin and the dull throb of your arousal grow steadily. you have got to get out of this car. it was hard enough to keep your hands off of him in the parking lot earlier, but he was just too close. too accessible. too desirable. the things you wanted to do to him, the positions you wanted to bend into for him making you swoon. 
lost in your daydreams, you had failed to notice yuuji’s perplexed face and megumi’s shameful pout, like a puppy that chewed up its owner’s shoe, the energy now tense. “we forgot to buy the ice.”
ᰔ the worst part about apartment buildings are the thin walls. unfortunately for the neighbors of megumi’s current conquest and tomorrow’s history, they are the ones being royally screwed over that evening. bangs and thuds came from mutually sharing walls and laminate wood flooring belonging to a girl whose name megumi can’t seem to remember. rolling off her body and over onto the sheets, megumi stares up at the ceiling, a blank expression worn on his face. 
a hand creeps up his chest, a singular finger dragging up over the valley of his abs and scratching lightly over his chest teasingly. his mind begins to race, arousal causing his dick to twitch under the thin cotton sheets. megumi is no stranger to scores of nail shapes and crescents on his skin, littering his body, but this time, it just feels…well, it feels wrong. since your encounter the other day, he hasn’t been able to get you off his mind, his body buzzing with the excitement of a chase, of someone who won’t cave in right away and give him what he wants, of someone different. the physical gesture of the woman lying besides him so genuine can’t be anything but superficial when it’s your handprint branded into his skin instead. 
as soon as light snores fill the room, megumi rises from the bed, picking up his scattered clothes, eyes adjusting to dark. his phone buzzes on the nightstand next to him, the low vibration close to inaudible, but his ears pique up in anticipation. the screen illuminates a long awaited text message from an unknown number followed by another incoming notification; “come over.”
he had begged gojo and geto days ago for your number, swallowing his pride and stooping low to get the chance to see you again. at first, they had told him no, savoring the moment of keeping you their little secret and away from their junior’s prying eyes and wandering hands. it wasn’t often that the two had something megumi couldn’t. but after some calculated bribery and forced compliments and praise, gojo had slid your contact card into megumi’s messages. he had texted you immediately, too impatient to wait any longer and all too eager to get you underneath him, but his only response was a delivered text and empty chat. 
copying the address you sent, he pastes it into the maps app on his phone, his fingers shaking, adrenaline and desire replacing the blood in his pounding heart and sending it straight to his head. he’s delirious, head spinning and eyes blown out from lust. he feels like a teenage boy again, completely void of control and arousal raging throughout his entire body, consuming him whole. grabbing his keys, he opens the front door of the apartment and takes off. 
JULY✧˚⋆
ᰔ you’re deep into summer now, the buzz of power lines gentle while the world spins on around you. everyone has settled into the season, your city now booming with vacationers– seasonal and first timers– while locals stick to tradition. you love it, the late night bonfires, the crowds along the pier, seasonal fruit stands and sunrises. july is a constant stream of life and excitement, you thrive in the feeling of endless possibilities. 
shortly after the first time megumi pulled up to your place, he found himself tapping his homescreen, waiting for your texts nightly. you’d call for him and he would show up, the gas tank full and heart beating fast. he’d drive you to the not so secret secret look out spot, a perfect view of the valley and the lake, before unfolding you in the backseat with lust alone. yet only he knows this himself, deep down, that megumi would’ve gladly ripped open his chest and handed you his heart if it meant you could stay by his side in the eternal summer heat.
over the past month, you realized you hadn’t learned much about megumi. you knew he was simple. liked what he liked and didn’t what he didn’t. he never did stuff he didn't want to do, but acted selflessly at times. he was smart, always the most intelligent person in the room, for better or for worse. there was an unnerving edge to the man’s impenetrable walls that irritated you. despite the lack of intimate exchanges of emotion, you could no longer deny the feelings you had when you were with him. you had to tell him.
you couldn’t shake the fear of everything crashing and burning, your heart being stomped on when you inevitably find megumi buried in another person. he shamelessly used women, gardening a persona of the stoic playboy while away at college. if someone asked for proof, he’s got more than enough ‘are you up?’ messages and shameless videos reeking from his phone, the stench of his sexual conquests known without the visuals. he’s been spending so much time with you. he wouldn’t have the time to be messing around with other people, right? you tell yourself. just have fun, it’s a fling. it’s just sex. nothing more… right?
most nights, you’re straddling megumi in the driver's seat, one hand bracing yourself on the wheel, the other sliding against the center console, and both of you moaning at the sight of you slowly sinking down on his cock. 
“god, you feel so good. this all for me?” he slurs at the warm hug your pussy greets him with, “just accept it, this filthy pussy is mine.” he fucks you open with precision, molding your insides to fit him and only him. you pant, your lips open in the prettiest shape and drool collecting in your mouth while the stretch of him burns just right. veins prominent like he’s pumping iron, he grips on the fat of your hips to hold you up, your legs shaking while you slam down to meet his hips halfway. everything is so lewd, sweat perspirated on your foreheads and pressed together to breathe the same air. your eyes meet and he whines, the slapping sound of his balls hitting your ass fills the car. 
leaning back a little, you arch your back and let the moonlight bathe you from the foggy windshield. the coolness of the air relieves you from heat of his body moments before. he’s slowed down now, pushing his cock up to bury itself deeper inside of you with a slow grind. bringing his hand up to smack your tit hard, he leaves you red before smoothing away the pain with a tug on your nipple. a free hand finds comfort on your back while he takes your breast it into his mouth, swirling his tongue around and nipping playfully when he pulls away. meeting your gaze, megumi’s dick throbs inside you at the sight and you feel him thicken and speed up his pace. 
“ah! o-oh my,” you’re cut short by the graze of his teeth along your bare chest, ghosting bites and leaving wet kisses. your walls coax him in with every thrust. you’re close and he’s gone, you feel him chasing after his orgasm as he draws you closer to yours. 
“megumi please- don’t stop! right there, megumi, -ah!” 
megumi moans, ropes of hot cum spilling over his hands as he falls back his pillows. it’s been a week since you’ve texted him. it’s been a week since that time in the car and he’s still chasing that feeling of your slick dripping down his dick while you squeezed him of everything he’s got. he feels unsatisfied while he takes a tissue and cleans himself, longing for your tongue wrapping around him, swallowing the load he haphazardly tosses into the wastebin. 
raking his hands through his hair, loose strands fall back to cover his eyes, and he searches his bedsheets for his phone. chains of messages and attachments crowded his notification center but none from you. he was disinterested in everyone but you; he thought about you constantly, wondering what you were doing at any given moment. he was infatuated and beyond annoyed. why are you suddenly playing hard to get? why do i miss you so much?
he never worked this hard, he was overly confident in his skills of making women scream and curl in his hands. but your quiet remarks of praise, the smallest “yes, megumi” or “megumi it feels so good” he’d do anything to hear that breathy tone you used just for him. now it’s been a week and he’s starting to miss you more than ever. 
ᰔ everyone has their favorite time of day. there are people that chase dawn like a dream and those who thrive in the mid hours. there are people who wait, soaking in the maturity of time till the late hours. and yours, were the times of day you laid in bed with megumi. 
a few midnight dates later, the boundary between you two was redrawn as megumi chased your up the stairs to your place. after a long night of 21 questions and the pad of mad libs you bought together now complete, you had settled into the car seats with heads turned to share a gaze for what felt like an infinity. summer lived around you, the sounds of insects and faint traffic in the background but inside the car with megumi, you were forever frozen. his phone chimes and the moment faded under the fluorescent light. “do you want to get that?” you asked, looking at the phone and back at him. 
“no. not really.” he reached for your hand, flipping it so his palm is flat against yours. locking eyes with your own, he spoke softly, “i was wondering if i could stay the night.”
graduating from the backseat, the two of you learned your bodies moved in sync, following the same mess of footsteps in the hall and onto your bed. he spun his hands over every inch of your body, devoted all night and getting lost in you as if it was the first time all over again. afterwards you’d laugh hours into in the morning, waking to outstretch in an empty bed, wondering what time he left this time.  
 from the very night you slid into his passenger seat, you were trapped. locked in by seatbelt, megumi became the driver of your summer’s escapade. night after night, days turned weeks, you grew to purr for the sound of his engine pulling up to the street in front of your house. his smile, those words of adoration he lets slip when you touch on him just the way he likes. what was once playful was treading dangerous waters. you chewed the cherry stem of your milkshake and woke up in the concerned look drawn on gojo’s face. 
“have anything you wanna share with the group?” he teased, gesturing to the empty booth. you two would take a break in the week to catch up and meet at your favorite diner. normally it was all jokes and gossip. you made it a rule not to talk to gojo about his friends, the messy group being a tense subject for him at times, a can of worms that explodes into angst and a soured mood. you felt off based to talk to him about megumi, since all you know about their relationship is that it’s rocky. but a part of you is dying for solace and gojo knows megumi better than anyone, so you decide to take a chance. 
“i’m worried my feelings for megumi are more than a crush.” gojo looks up at you quick, surprised by your forthright response. “oh, we’re getting straight into it,” he pushes his drink out of the way and folds his hands attentive on the table, grinning like a fool. you hadn’t talked to him about megumi since he asked for permission to give the man your number. “shut up, you asked- and it’s not like it’s love or anything! we’ve only been hooking up, y’know, here and there.” you ramble, filling the silence with excuses and filler, dancing around what you truly mean to say. gojo could see right through you. the truth was, you did love megumi. you wanted to be with megumi more than anything.
“what if this isn’t just a summer fling?” you voice goes soft, breaking at the smallest words, “what if i’ve gone and fallen for the guy who was supposed to be temporary?” when you were with him, you felt so good, so real, something you had never felt before. the sex was incredible, but looking past that, things were different now from before. the situationship you signed up for was different. small talk turned playful in the late nights. suddenly, you were texting each other good night and awaiting at the photos he’d send at work or smiling with yuuji and nobara while hanging out, letting you know he was busy, but couldn’t wait to see you that night. 
“are you sure you want to get into something serious with that certified hoe? you can never trust them when they leave for school,” your friend laughs at his joke and you smile small. gojo can be nothing more than an antagonist at times, an echo of the voices screaming at you to end things with megumi. maybe they are right, you think.  “but maybe you should just talk to him.”
AUGUST✧˚⋆
ᰔ on day eight of radio silence from you, megumi broke his double texting rule and asked you to hangout. he was driving himself crazy, no longer able to stand the silence without you. he stared at the empty chat, hovering over the unsend button when three bubbles appeared on the screen. 
i’m free around 7. i think we should talk
talk?, he thought, what would we be talking about? he panicked, you must’ve met someone else. you were leaving him even though there was nothing to truly leave. ever since megumi has met you, his entire world has turned upside down, unable to find his heartbeat steady around you. at first it was lust, he couldn’t help but crave your touch. but as he tries to ease himself of this foreign feeling, megumi realizes his mistake.
your relationship had thrived off the simplicity of no strings attached, free from lingering feelings and unrequited love. but somewhere along the way, megumi got lost in tangled limbs and soiled sheets. you had woven every fiber of your being into a tight leash around his neck, reeling him back in every time. he wanted you to think he was a changed man. he is a changed man! he smooths his hands down his pants and sent you a short response back. he was determined to see you later that evening ready to convince you the best place for you was in his lap, with him. forever. 
you eyed the clock with dread, each tick crawling unbearably slow as you wait for megumi to arrive. when he texted earlier, you felt your stomach drop. after unintentionally ghosting him, you didn’t expect him to text you. it had been over a week since you had left his message unread, hoping he would get the hint and all your blossoming feelings would fade away with the memories of him in the fall.
so in the hour prior to his arrival, you pep talked in the mirror, you made lists of pro and cons, and battled with yourself on how to tell megumi you couldn’t see him anymore. when he got there, you were going to be firm and assertive, and tell him that you simply were not interested anymore! you were going to be honest about you feelings and lay all cards on the table, despite your anxiety saying otherwise. it was the mature thing to do, you told yourself.
when you open the door, megumi is on you, swallowing you whole by taking his head into your hands and locking your lips with his. he pushes you out of the door frame and the entire time you’re welcoming him deeper into your mouth. he kissed you with a thousand words of love and hoped you got the message. you break the kiss, lightly panting against his mouth. his hands were still holding your head close to his own, keeping you close and in arms reach.
“it’s been eight days,” he says low. “where have you been?” you’re surprised. from his initial kiss at the door to this now sudden care and concern. you search his eyes for clues and turned up empty. he was as distant as ever with a hint of fear swirling in his dark eyes, leaving you shrinking into your skin. he walked forward and you stepped back, moving further into the hall. meguimi’s arm reaches to block your passage in the hall, cornering you towards your bedroom. “well? are you gonna answer?” your heart quickens, all of your preplanned speeches disappearing from your mind when he’s looming over you. is he angry?
you’ve reached your bedroom, the door ajar. “i- i didn’t know how to tell you. can we talk please?” you sputter out, nervous now that he’s got you trapped against the door frame. megumi’s brows are knit together and his nostrils flare in irritation, you’ve never seen him angry, much less upset. his eyes looked cloudy and you desperately yearned to reverse time. you’re stepping into the dark room and he follows. 
from the moment the door shuts, he’s tearing yours and his clothes off and pushing you onto the bed. he’s more eager than normal, his pants tight from his erection and hands shaking just slightly. he takes ahold of your chin and ushers you into a kiss, shimming out your pants. you slide a hand to his cheek and let his tongue meld with yours. “i don’t want to talk right now,” he says like a secret. he exhales and lets his mouth shift to smear open mouthed kisses against yours and down your neck. you lift your arms up to let him take off your shirt, catching you as you fall back to the bed. he pulls off his own and lowers himself to kiss down your chest. 
he suckles on your skin, love bites and bruises swelling in his wake, while his grip is tight on your waist, dragging your hips against his erection and guiding your legs to wrap around his body. he looks up at you with pleading eyes,“ just let me love you. one last time,” he breaths against your tummy, hugging your middle tight. you feel heat bloom in your gut, your walls clenching under his gaze. you look away, shy, and attempt to cover the blush dusting your cheeks. he smacks a wet kiss on your cheek before rolling onto the bed beside you. in that split second, the room spins and your heart beats with the warmth of his body besides you. your heart swells, did he just say love? 
the belt clanks as he undos it and pulls his pants down in one movement. he situates you on your knees around his head, blown pupils lost in the other as you look down at him. “are you ready?” he asks. you nod and he hums with acknowledgement. with that, you rise up to all fours and let his arms weave between your legs. he repositions himself to have his face aligned with your cunt and exhales with satisfaction at the sight. 
almost as if he’s seeing you for the first time, megumi’s heart pumps desire through his body. you knew exactly how to get him riled up more than anyone else and you’ve barely even touched him. “it’s been so long since i’ve tasted this pussy,” he groans, drinking in the view of you, legs wide and trembling at the strain of the position he has you in. “i missed you.” 
his eyes float back to your weeping cunt in front of him. he feels your body tremble with anticipation, his breath fawning over your skin and stare burning into you. he moves his index finger around your hole, inspecting it, pulling your sticky lips apart and licking them clean and you gasp.. you lower yourself down to elbows and let a glob of spit fall onto his cock, stroking him as he pulls your pussy apart by the threads. “fuck, that feels good,” he sputters, thrusting up as you take him into your mouth. you gag on him, tears collecting in your eyes, “did you miss me too?” he teases, his voice low and sets the hairs on your body on edge. the blood is rushing to your head and megumi’s teasing leaves you hot and dizzy. matching sloppy circles with your slurping of his cock, megumi slots his fingers in your hole and focuses on your clit throbbing and pulsating in his mouth. 
“mm.. you did. look at this mess,” your moans vibrate around his shaft when he pushes two fingers inside you shallowly. he lets them tease you and focuses on the erect bundles of nerves at the top of your pussy. he peels the hood of your clit back and lets himself suck on you further, lets his head get crushed between your locked legs no longer slack in his grasp. his fingers are deep, further in you than before, dragging sweet pressure along your walls. the pleasure he’s giving you making you grind along his face. he ruthlessly slams his hips up into your open jaw, balls hitting your chin as your spit pools pathetically out of your mouth from the overstimulation of everything. his dick slips out of your mouth while you choke out for air, your throat stretched from his rough thrusts. you rest your head on his thigh and watch his cock bob while he buries his face between your legs.
your resistance wearing thin, your mind spins with each stroke along your walls. “megumi, i’m gonna cum!” he’s coaxing you open, letting your slick drip down his fingers, squelching and filth fills the room. you unfurl in his hands into a wet mess, and megumi eat you like a man starved. you can feel your orgasm hurling towards you when he sucks your clit back into his mouth, letting your mind go numb with pleasure. megumi groans when you spill into his mouth, he watches you cream around his fingers before licking them clean. 
cleaning you of your sugar sweet essence, spread thick and shiny on his lips and chin, he throws you forward to face the foot of the bed. you feel his bare chest slide along your back, allowing one hand to trace the curves and dents of your body. he feels up every inch of your exposed skin before laying his palm flat on your shoulder, shoving you flat against the mattress. “tell me you want me,” you can’t breathe and his fingers walk up your arm meeting in the crevices of your knuckles.”tell me you need it, you need me to make you feel this good.”  your ass is up, pussy fluttering in response to his airy voice, hot and slow against the shell of your ear.
 “ y/n, tell me you need me.” 
he rocks his hips against your ass, pushing his cock down to slide between your folds and coat himself. he fucks your wet thighs, groaning selfishly while you vibrate for him. you’re so sensitive and his tip catches your clit with every stroke. you're wrapped up in his scent, his sweat, every sensation and brush of his body on yours more than you can handle. all of his actions are so drawn out and agonizing, his very touch leaving you raw, your senses overloaded. interlocking his hand over yours, he laces his fingers so tight it hurts. 
“please, hurry, i-” he slides himself inside of you without warning, pushing past the resistance of your walls and letting your initial pain manifest in tight squeezes instead. “oh my god, it feels so good,” you gasp out, moans cascading from your lips while you adjust to his length he hisses and pulls your ass apart to watch the rest of him get enveloped in your silken pussy. you twitch and reflexively rut back against him, chasing your orgasm, and using him for pleasure. “i need you, megumi. please, don’t tease anymore,” you whine and let your ass bounce back against him once more. he grins wicked and his eyes rolls at the needy cling of your heat around him. 
both hands grab at your waist, pinching it tight as he fucks you rough, dragging your body along his shaft without forgiveness. he works his hands in your hair, pulling at the roots to yank you upright, your limp body a whimpering wreck, like putty in his hands. with you against his chest, he angles himself just right to continue thrusting into your sopping pussy. his hand holds your hips down and your back bows when the other forcefully cups over your mouth, muffling your moans. megumi has never been this rough with you, more often than not, gentle and serving, not handling you without a care. your thoughts are screaming his name and your body is on fire under his touch. with every thrust, he finds heaven between your soft thighs. 
his hips fumble and are sloppy as he ruts into you, “i’m gonna cum. oh fuck- cum with me.” messy fingers meet your clit as megumi rushes to pull another orgasm out from you. you’re seeing white when megumi spills his cum inside of you, warm and thick, your pussy milking him. panting, the two of you fall to the bed in a tangle of limbs, exasperated and smiling. you whine when he pulls his half hard cock of out you, your pussy sensitive and sore when you feel his cum push out of you with every achy throb. 
stillness settles in the room, but the awkward silence is suffocating. after sex, you’d have to pry megumi off of you, his still sweaty body stuck to yours while he peppers you with kisses and adoration. he treated you like the most precious woman in the world and laying beside you is another man. you turned your head to look at him. his stare was focused on the ceiling, unmoving, his body looked tense. your let your hand skate to his side, where you nestled your fingers within his. your fingers are soft and comforting, all of his nerves soothing at the slightest touch. 
“is everything alright?” you ask with concern and megumi wants to cry for the first time in a long time. was he ready to lose you already, he asked himself. he mourned the memories you hadn’t created together in the ceiling fan whirs. he can’t speak, all his words on the tip of his tongue, but he can’t seem to muster the strength to tell you about his feelings. you sigh and release his hand, tucking yours together in your lap. 
“i wanted to talk to you about us. summer is coming to an end and i’m afraid i can’t keep doing this. i think it’d be best, for the both of us. things can just go back to normal,” his ears are ringing, the blood drumming so loud it’s drowning out your voice. megumi feels like he’s sinking in the ocean, watching your body float above him and leaving him to drown in murky waters. “you’ll go back to college and i’ll stay her. i’m sure you have a bunch of.. people waiting for you,” you force a smile and he sees insecurity crack in it. of course it’s about his (erm) history with women. he feels the shame and pain of every woman he had left broken, making them feel alone. to make matters worse, you’re so calm and collected, he feels like he doesn’t even deserve your kind rejection. he wasn’t ready to lose you. not yet. 
“megumi, are you listening to me?” you ask. when his face turns to meet yours devastation written all over it, his eyes look misty like he was on the verge of crying. “megumi! what’s wrong?” 
“so that’s it? you’re done with me? i don’t want things to go back to normal. i love you! i love you and- and you’re just afraid! after all everything we’ve been through, our time meant something to me. i thought we had something. not just a summer fling.” his words knock the air from your lungs– love?! of all the things you had prepared for, having your feelings be reciprocated was last on the list. you tingled with joy, the sensation making you high. 
“i haven’t been with anyone else. it’s only been you, since we met. i don’t want to be with anyone else” megumi rolls onto his side to stare at you, hoping his words reached you, and that you’d receive them with open arms and change your mind. your hand knots itself in his hair when you kiss him, fast and overly excited. he smiles against your lips and deepens the kiss.
“i love you too.”
- a few months later
“baby, can you believe it’s december 5th already? i’ll be home in two more days.” megumi pulls his scarf up to cover his mouth, cold air puffing from his mouth. he was on his way home from class when he called you, relieved from finishing his last exam day and hearing your voice. his smile is hidden from the camera, but you see it anyways  
“i can’t believe the semester is over already. i can’t wait to see you,” you giggle while tying the slipnot of your current crochet project, it’s a hobby you’ve recently picked up, gifting out mittens and hats to all your friends when the temperatures dropped. 
“i’m ready to be home with you.” he says. things with megumi have been more than expected. since he’s left for school, you talk daily, receiving the same adorable photos, most of the time of him studying or out on campus. you share pictures of you on the quad with yuuji and voice memos telling him how you miss him. he’s come back twice for long weekends, surprising you after your last friday class, and taking you for lost time. things couldn’t be any better. 
the two of you chat all the way to his dorm, making plans for his return, and reminding him not to forget gojo’s birthday gift when he leaves. 
“i love you megumi! i’ll see you soon”
492 notes · View notes
atzhrts · 3 months ago
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ALSO lowkey thanks for bringing up pegging with wonbin because i've been dying to talk about it for a fucking hot minute
https://x.com/shubai79795185/status/1805596720619045267?s=46
actually this is all i'll say🧍🏻‍♀️
-🪼
nsfw link minors dni
i mentioned this 100 times already but wonbin really is the definition of pretty boy for me. just imagine how pretty he would be on all fours, heavy dick hanging useless between his legs as you thrust into him. lube spread against his (pretty) ass cheeks and his hair disheveled from you pulling his head back. his pretty whines and whimpers filling the room alongside the sound of your thighs meeting the back of his.
fucking him into the mattress, hard nipples rubbing against the fabric with each of your thrusts. wonbin grinding his ass back into you, seeking your strap deeper while letting out the most pornographic moans as his red tip rubs against the mattress topper, leaving a wet trace.
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