#idk what's gonna happen in the next few weeks
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Anyone else out here haunted by the unknowns of recovery?
#got a doctor's appointment tomorrow#bout going back on some kind of antidepressant/anti anxiety meds#bc i NEED to. like. the anxiety in particular is really bad and it's stopping me doing Most things#but my brain may be a shitty place to live rn but i kind of know how it works#and i have things i can semi rely on to cheer me up and things i know i can still do#what if the funky new chemical cocktail idk. makes me lose interest in writing?#thay would suck!! ! i just rediscovered it!!!#but i also can't put getting better on hold just bc I've found a bit of a creative groove that i wanna hang on to yknow?#idk. obviously i hope that being on meds that work will make me MORE creative not less#bc maybe I'll be less anxious about everything being perfect and less anxious sbout putting it out there#but it's just that fear i guess of to tackle the unhelpful parts of your brain sometimes the parts you like get caught in the crossfire#i hope I'll become MORE myself not less#but I've been unmedicated for a while now#and my brain isn't a fun place to be but i understand it#idk what's gonna happen in the next few weeks#i hope it's good#mr. bees speaks
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compilation of my other fav palette challenges from the years past... i should do them again sometime......
chara #9 belongs to @askbookwormflareon
#granted theres a glaring issue in one of them#i am not pointing it out lest you end up noticing it when you wouldnt normally~#my art#art q#digital painting#oc#mew#pokemon#purrloin#also i put in my request for availability change#apparently they can reject it...#i just cited second job as reason as to why i need mondays off now#my manager is gonna be super pissed tho cuz they always get mad at everyone who changes their availability#but like i mentally cant keep up with the randomised schedule#esp when i could find out the day before my day off that its my only day i can do comms#i dont have enough time to work my schedule for that w chores and having to go buy food or cat food etc etc#it will come into effect start of next month if they accept it#if they dont then ill just keep resubmitting until they write me upfor it lol idk#i was even nice and specifically asked other higher up staff what the best day to ask off was so it didnt hurt them too bad#but i ranted in stream the other day how like im not responsible for if the store gets fucked just cuz i took one day off my schedule yanno#its not my job to keep that from happening#also im part time and if i was full time id still have 2 guaranteed days off so like ??? idk#scared abt getting the cold shoulder and whatnot the next few weeks from the manager tho#also i stayed up till 4am by accident#and got up at 8am anyways#wish my ass luck
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i think i mentioned that my dad let some guys put film on our windows so they'd reflect the sun a bit more or whatever right....... well they did that yesterday and everything was fine they washed my window and everything but now . i look out and there's a fucking CRACK IN THE GLASS????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????
#i#HOW??!??! ?!?!?! “)”)=!=“)=!=!#HOW EVEN#WHAT THE FUCK#WHAT THEEE ACTUAL FUCK#IT'S SO FUCKING BIG TOOOO?!?!?!??!?#AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA#oh my god they're gonna have to take the whole thing out and then there's gonna be some more fucked up renovation shit going on#it never goes well#literally never#cue when they were doing the whole building and then they had to change our radiators and what had to be like a week long thing turned#into a few month thing#and i had to live in the living room for the entire time#and you might think that this is just a window but oh my god#they're gonna fuck it up they're gonna tear my walls apart again#oh this made me really sad actually wow#my dad was so chill abt it though😭😭😭😭#i'm standing there next to him like how how how did that happen what now how are they gonnafix it#and he just went ¯\_(ツ)_/¯#“idk”#jhdsgagdhsghdhsaghgdas#PLEAAASEEEE SIRR YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO KNOW ARE YOU A DAD OR NOT DAMNNN#ahhhhhhh anyway#i really do hate when there's any sort of renavation going on in my room the mere idea that there would be strangers in my room is making m#sick#😭😭😭😭#IT'S WEIRD I KNOW NO NEED TO RUB IT IN#aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh#mayor of loserville
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sometimes i'm home alone for months at a time coz my parents leave (like rn) and ofc that's usually when the "ooh neighbour scary you never know what you live next to" stories find me which almost spook me but then i'm like. idk why i'd be scared of my neighbours being insane when i'm literally the insane neighbour
#sorry you heard me wake up screaming and begging for my life do you still think im hot#idfk what my neighbours think my street is extremely quiet and i never see anyone#hopefully my severe mental issues and nightly bloodcurdling screams have captivated them body and soul#barking#lonely times#well anyway. my mental health has been sub optimal in a way it hasn't been in years for the past few uh. months?#idk when I'd say it started but i basically dont remember anything that's happened since like. early September so#oh also i had an exam today and i studied for it harder than I've ever studied for any exam ever#and i walked in and looked the teacher in the eye and went. babygirl. im gonna retake this next week if that's ok. and then left#i think they saw that i was literally abt to jump out the window they were really nice
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i said i wouldn’t do it this time but it’s 3am and mods asleep. boy
#welcome to another episode of Luke is insane abt hockey boy!#this time featuring a guy who is actually this time almost (ALMOST) confirmed to be queer#the almost is partly me being insane because I don’t trust anything anymore#but like. there are only so many reasons you wear pride converse. that is not ally behaviour#it just threw me this time I think bc I’d been like no. heterosexual. bc I think I became aware of him when he joined the real hockey team#because the OTHER problem is that the whole time I’d been thinking he was cute as hell (bc he is) and simultaneously being like no. bad.#anyway this meant that I have actually talked to him a bunch without overthinking it this term which honestly has been very cool#not like a whole lot but we’ve played together a decent amount and hopefully will keep doing that#and yesterday discovered hes recommending other people talk to me abt goalieing which is insane to me bc I am truly not that good#but apparently I made an impression!#anyway it does not help that this guy has gotten incredibly good at hockey in the past few months#idk man I make bad decisions (I say as if this was a decision) bc it is now the end of term once again <3#which means absolutely nothing can or will happen until after summer. which isn’t an issue#I’m just frustrated by my tendency to realise these things right before I’m about to not see the guy for X period of time#I also desperately need to stop crushing on hockey boys I swear but in my defence that is the main way I meet people#I think I’m cursed actually. that would explain many things#anyway he also has exams until next Tuesday which means he’ll be at hockey next week but idk abt this week which is devastating#i just wanna have talk to the guy more honestly to see how that goes bc we’ve not rlly talked individually for an extended time yknow.#in other words we have not had A Conversation it’s been groups or like quicker exchanges#he’s kinda quiet but i can’t quite tell which way yknow. I know he’s Watching basically all the time. and he is slightly awkward#which is also kinda cute. he gets a lil rambly when he talks abt hockey and I wanna push that button more#i. topsy if you’re reading this you’re gonna laugh so hard I just realised. he’s captain of the team now.#which sidenote is INSANE bc he started playing with them THIS YEAR#but oh my god. okay.#anyway. I need to start complimenting guys more for multiple reasons but also#1. he dresses very cool 2. he caught me looking at his shirt last week without saying anything (BEFORE I caught the rainbow converse)#i compliment women on their clothes and jewellery and hair and shit all the time but I do not with men bc. I mean do I need to explain.#but this is so unfair I am haunted by existence of boy and here we are once again. posting on tumblr with the possibility of seeing him lik#two more times before summer. might be three or four depending on what he comes to#luke.txt
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crazy how I literally have no energy to do anything ever like isn't that totally wild (my life is literally in shambles)
#guy buried in rubble extending a shaking bloody thumbs up#going home again tomorrow. hopefully for longer this time. i dont know.#i dont know anything about how the next few weeks are gonna go.#and i realized today that theres a very very very good chance she'll die on or near my birthday. or halloween. my fav holiday.#and idk. the sinking feeling of realizing that this time of year that has always been the most enjoyable for me#will from this point forward be my worst memory.#i dont. really know what to do with that.#my birthday's gonna suck this year. lmao.#and very possibly it will also suck every year for the rest of my life. lmaooo.#logically i know ill probably move past it after a while. like i know it gets more manageable with time and all that.#but its just. very overwhelmingly depressing rn while im caught in the middle of it.#hh. i need to sleep so i can make some calls and drive home tomorrow. but well thats not gonna happen i dont think. </3#winter speaks#personal#grief tag#<- might wanna blacklist because. as the kids say. shit has gotten real.
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#today has been a day. as in time did pass. the earth rotated. and i accomplished very little#bc im just feeling paralyzed and not so good. and i guess thats understandable#like i understand y its happening but its not any less frustrating. mostly its just knowing that i have to make life altering decisions in#the next few weeks. and the pressure of: if i dont decide to go for this one project then they dont get a student and they dont get funding#that makes me pretty nauseous. and knowing i have an interview Thursday that im not ready for and i dont really wanna do#and its a product of not talking to people like a human being. like i just dont interact with people much. when im in the lab i mostly#stand around looking unapproachable or go in when i kno there's no one there and i just dont have close friends so i dont really talk to or#text anyone. i just work and fail to get things done. so then when im in a situation where i have to talk to ppl its all anxious shrapnel#or me dominating the conversation bc i cant stand the pauses and i have so much obsessivly rotatinf in my head. and i hate it. im so sick#of hearinf my own voice but no one talk in the way i want them to. i get so bored. and i want to ask pressing and uncomfortable things but#i kno i shouldnt. but i also dont really have a filter so ill just say fucking whatever. which is what i did Saturday when a triggering#topic of conversation arose. so now my lab mate officially knows too much. but whatever wtf is he gonna do abt it. i just get so annoyed#bc now its in my head. thr fact it set me off and that i overshared and that now its in my head. annoying.#and it doesn't help with the writing things i need to finish. bc i dont like feeling like ive done something wrong and one of the reviewers#has good points. which also probably means ill have to redo my 8 days of measurements so far#but i also might b able to shorten the timeline so idk. just a lot is happening rn and i feel the pressure and by brain doesn't like#pressure. and not doing things rn is not good. things need to be done#so idk i dont feel good but it makes sense. by the end of February hopefully things will b figured out#and i should sleep and hope for a better tomorrow#unrelated
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life update no one asked for: worked 300 hours in a month, started my junior year of college, started therapy, realized i hate my major, and i am subsequently changing my major
#made the therapy appointment before i realized i hate my major#so those arent linear but dont even worry that will be HEAVILY discussed in my therapy appointments#kinda worried i’m genuinely going through a midlife (mid college?) crisis and i’m gonna regret that tho#which i dont think i will??? bc my new major is literally my minor and i like it so mich better??? like i think it will be fine????#idk but i also havent felt an emotion that hasn’t jad to do with formula 1 since like. monday april 8th so like. dunno what thats about#like i’m not saying i haven’t felt any emotions since then. but also i’m not saying i have#like i think if i were to break it down the effects that sunday april 7th had on me may have been terminal#crazy shit considering it was stupid as fuck#anyway.#my therapist is gonna jave a grand ole time unpacking all lf my shit#gonna go in talking about all of the stuff that has happened in the past few weeks#and then be like ‘oh btw my parents are also dead and i have no family and it’s like highkey just me but that’s also why i am the way i am’#poor person’s gonna hate their life everytime they see me#intake appointment next wednesday (on my mothers birthday lol) is about to go insane#anyway. y’all actually dont need to know any of this about me but here’s some lore i guess#be back on sunday when oscar piastri wins the 2024 italian monza grand prix#lacey talks
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I would like to make an addendum to this piece with the new chapter out and say that I was wrong about Phillip, he's great, 10/10 he went from being a giant red flag of a character to being genuinely relatable and man do i feel bad about side-eyeing him for that line he said last chapter
Also this chapter finally wrapped up another plot thread I was waiting for it to return to and waaaaaah seeing someone else's POV on Helene is so nice (and we finally got another flashback of OG Helene for like,, the first time in literally forever). Helene being called out as a lonely person who hides her kind feelings behind a cold expression...man suddenly my fondness for Helene is increasing thousandfold
Like literally how the fuck does this manga keep making Helene better and better there's literally nothing disappointing about her character and im STILL shook about it
#The Mighty Extra#no fully colored art today gotta process my feelings over the Helene bits in today's chapter LMAO#Helene continuously getting the best treatment in this story utterly shocks me as someone who is too used to seeing female characters in-#shounen-esque ending up as wasted potential fgkjggfkj#Helene is literally so perfect as a character i love her i love her i love her I LOVE HER I LOVE-#i don't draw Helene enough to show it outwardly but rest assured she occupies 99% of my current brain capacity 24/7#also the way I went from going “oh god why are you like this” to Phillip to “ohhh OHHHH okay no i get it you're very baby” is very funny#that last line makes complete sense for Phillip and it's so cool to see him show off a lot of character development in one go#for a character who is relatively minor i love how the creator made him really understandable and sympathetic like damn#i don't usually care for second lead male LIs but Phillip is surprisingly a strong and endearing character#so much so i think he's now going to forever be embedded in my mind as what a well written character looks like#me before 77: ehhh im not sure if im as excited for this chapter as the next few bc it's probs just gonna end up as#Phillip just being an ass and Fian being jealous about him#this fucking manga every goddamn time i doubt it: hey so want to learn more about Helene and see Phillip get massive character development-#that shows how mature he's gotten but also go back to several plot threads and mysteries and showcase how Lyla is severely in danger and th#war that Fian is starting is something that legitimately needs to happen to keep her safe and also here's a OG Helene flashback that-#you totally haven't been craving for promising to return to why Lyla shipped Helene/Fian in the first place and why she feels guilty about-#taking Fian from Helene (and also suggests Helene deeply loved Fian in the OG timeline which is one big awwwwWWWW and now it kind of-#sucks that Lyla DID rip Fian away from Helene but hey at least Helene has Paris now instead (oh the irony))#fun fact i actually kind of do ship Fian/Helene#at least the OG versions of them#idk seeing how attached Fian is to Lyla and imagining him doing the same to OG Helene is really fucking cute#i am SO FUCKING DESPERATE for the original story behind TME's plot to exist you have no fucking idea#and 78 looks promising as to revealing how OG Helene (/Lyla) reacted to OG Fian's death so like#im begging for next week's chapter already i NEED to get a continuation to that death scene#(also calling it now but if Lyla's real name is actually Helene im going to fucking scream)#(for more reasons than one oh my god)
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packing up and moving everything out of my room, leaving for a week, coming back, putting some stuff back in my room, waiting a week, and then permanently moving all of my stuff out of my house 👍🏻
#whyyyyyy are we doing this three weeks before i move out#you could’ve waited til next summer or literally just like. one more week after i move out#and then all of this would’ve been so much easier#alas. here i am#i’m treating this like i’m dying when in reality i just had to lift like. fifty pounds downstairs a few times#and somehow cut my leg and made it bleed a lot??? idk how that happened#i guess it’ll force me to get organized for my apartment when it’s over#i think it’s kinda funny that i’m gonna just be sleeping on a blowup mattress until i move out though like#what a send off#mine#personal
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#rn the assistant manager is here not the manager#but last week the day started like that and then they switched at 11 so anything can happen ahahahahahaha#there is someone im supposed to train here#i do have flour#but not a 25lb bag. a few 1lb ish bags#i need to make so many cookies. ahahahahahhahaha why would they do that#also 💀 it looks like some other people have been in the bakery trying to do things#bc they're scrambling bc im gonna be gone 💀 too bad lol#no one's said anything about it to me yet. if no one does the next 2 days will be fine#but if they do#idk what to say#im scared#she was a baker girl
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I slept funny the night before last and I must have pinched a nerve or something because I’m on day two of my entire right arm being just slightly off. Like, it doesn’t hurt necessarily but the joints feel stressed, kind of like how they feel when they’ve been sprained, and my skin feels overly sensitive like it does when I have a fever. Idk, it’s just weird and I’d like it to get better please.
#I’m gonna have to ask my doctor wtf is up with my shoulder/neck next time I see her#I splurged on an expensive molded side sleeper pillow and that’s helped with a lot of the pain I’d been having#but I still have shit like this happen every few weeks and idk what to do about it#the nerve pain was so sharp last night that I had a hard time sleeping at all#any time I tried to move out of one specific position I would wake up to pain shooting up and down my arm
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😷🤒Sick Day(Adult!SatoSugu x Sick!Fem!Reader)🤒😷
A/N: Yep this is part of that SatoSugu Teacher AU alongside Moving Day and Nights.
Also, announcement. I have smut writing fatigue after just putting out one and I'm down with a cold right now. So that vampire AU gang bang piece is happening next month. I'm so sorry for this yall. Thanks though to everyone who commented on that and helped me decide.
But I will hopefully be posting a JJK Halloween piece to make up for it. A headcannon/ imagined scenario where the JJK cast celebrate Halloween with my ideal fave pairings in couples costumes and such in this what if AU. And yas it gonna be SatoSugu x Fem or GN reader, idk on that part yet.
All credit for JJK and its characters goes to the madman that is Gege.
* Please DON'T plagarize, translate, or repost my FANFIC content. Reblog, like, and follow instead.
I hope you enjoy!
Your throat feels raw.
Your nose feels stuffy.
And you kept coughing every few minutes.
You should have figured spotting a curse forming from a virus epidemic happening in the hotel across the street would pose a high ass risk of getting infected yourself.
But as a Window, it was your job, as life risking as it was.
The more people inside and around the building got infected, the Grade 4 grew closer to Grade 3. If it kept up, dozens upon hundreds would die.
"Ijichi-san. Disease curse. Transitioning from Grade 4 to Grade 3. Requesting sorcerer help here immediately." You struggled speaking over the phone as you kept coughing, dispatching the address to him, seeing the revolting curse grow in size as its toxic presence spilled, tripping as you tried keeping your distance.
Your head was pounding and you could barely focus as Ijichi-san panicked on his end.
"L/n-san!? L/N-SAN!"
In a moment of ailment, you dropped your phone, causing it to disconnect from the impact.
You were barely able to keep a grip on your phone or walk without faltering as you felt more drained with each passing moment. You blinked a lot as you tried staying alert, stumbling before collapsing against a parked empty vehicle on the street, sliding down to your bum just to rest your aching head against your knees, hugging your legs to your chest.
That curse's smogs began spreading down the streets, into traffic, and nearby occupied establishments.
Believing help wouldn't get here in time through the systematic process, you opted for your wild card, shakily picking up your now cracked screen device.
"Toru. Curse problem. Get here ASAP. Please." Texting the address in your feverish haste, you pressed send before curling in on yourself, welcoming sleep to rest your aching self.
In just under the next few minutes — more like moments — you felt a boom in the cursed energy atmosphere, that curse no longer being sensed. At last, it was done.
The shift from freezing metal to cozy soft fabric stirred you awake a bit. Along with the feel of solid warm arms draped around your shoulders and under your knees. Those big smooth hands squeezing your shoulder and your kneecap had you tugging weakly on the front of that top, pressing your face against your makeshift pillow, struggling to open your eyes as your hearing painted the picture for you in the meantime.
"A majority will spend weeks recuperating. The ones closest to the cause will spend months in the hospital at best. Still though, no casualties. Thank you for the help." High chances it was one of the many medics on site for post cleanup.
"You can thank the young woman here for that. She was the first responder, after all. I'll tend to her recovery myself. Sayonara." You know that voice right away, even when he was muffled, relaxing further in his hold.
"This cold isn't going away anytime soon. Too bad reversed cursed techniques don't make the common cold go away." Your half lidded eyes still had him swooning at how frail and precious you were in his arms.
You murmured, noticing him in his black long sleeved top, matching sweatpants, and face mask with the blindfold. "Blindfolded giant." That's when you realized a face mask was put on you as well, your muffled coughs hitting cloth.
You could already picture him beaming, grinning, as he laughed a bit.
"Correction. Your blindfolded giant, darling~ Now then, let's get you home."
°•○•°•○•°•○•°
Geto typing away on his computer, working on his latest reports.
Gojo straddling his lap, hugging him as he napped against his dear best friend slash hubbie.
The former smiling fondly at the motion before picking up where he left off was their situation before both men's phones began vibrating and ringing.
"Geto-san! L/n-san has reported a disease curse spotting! But she was cut off before I could get further details!"
"She just texted me the location." The sleepiness was wiped away, replaced with firm seriousness, as Gojo started getting off of him to get some shoes on.
"Ijichi-san, do not fret. Satoru will handle the curse." Geto calmly responded over the phone before speaking concerningly to his snowy-haired hubbie. "Toru, bring a face mask in case the affected area reaches where you land post teleport."
Said man smooched his hubbie in kind before slipping on the black face mask to match his current apparel. "Wait up for us, Sugu~"
Seeing you both back, teleporting into your home office, Suguru smooched Satoru the moment he took that face mask right off. Pressing the back of his palm against your forehead to double check for a fever, Suguru's dismay was warranted.
So being there when you awoke from your fever dream tucked in the middle of your guys' giant bed meant Suguru patting your now sweating forehead with a wet rag, you trembling from chills raking your skin followed by feeling warmer the next minute as you coughed into a tissue he handed to you.
"Well dearest, you've got yourself a nasty cold here." Suguru noted with a gray face mask on as well, seated by you on his side of the bed.
"Ah bah." Your raspy spat earned you a cough into your fist before you were offered a filled up water bottle by Satoru who was sitting behind you on his side; blindfold off but face mask back on.
"Welp, I exorcized the curse and brought your cute self back here. Plus I got that report to work on in your precious stead. So you're welcome." He gently ran his fingers through your hair to ease you in whatever way he could.
"Thank you Toru." You slowly sat up and were then handed some cold pills by Suguru to down some water with. "Thank you Sugu."
"Now that we've made our home Ground Zero, you are hereby confined to this room. Drink plenty of fluids. Take your medicine. Get lots of rest. Do you hear me, young lady?" Suguru's smart ass tone made you pout.
"Yes mom." You murmured raspy.
Satoru snorted behind his face mask to which Suguru whacked him in the shoulder across from him with narrowed eyes. "At least Megumi and the twins are living in the dorms now and Tsumiki was able to convince her classmate to stay at her place for a while. Meaning we three have the place to ourselves~"
"Does that mean … I have to sleep by myself?" You whimpered, cracking their resolve. "Neither the Gojo Geto bears, nor the Gojo Geto cats, not even the Gojo Geto giant round plushies can substitute for the real deal." You moped, pointing at said custom made toys lined up on the window seat on the far side of the room.
"Aww, Suguru, how can we deny our lovely sweetheart the company of her valiant handsome knights in the flesh, huh~!?" Satoru dramatized his own cries, muffled though.
Suguru sighed, consigning. "At least one of us should. Who else will be teaching the first years in the meantime?"
"Round robin, then? Last one left standing tends to that noble martyr and gets our dear sweetheart to be their own personal nurse in the end … huh …" That hum and those inquiring eyes could only bode mischief. "I volunteer Suguru to go first!"
"Not gonna happen, Satoru." He immediately denied.
"But to be fed by, bathed by and be doted on by our angel is heaven sent~!" Satoru gushed.
"Which is why you shouldn't be the only one getting that special treatment!" Suguru being jealous at possibly being left out on that.
"Hey!" Your strained shout ends in a coughing fit, curled up in bed, sniffling to which Suguru hands you a big enough tissue to blow your nose in. "I'm dying here."
"Hmm … Yu could fill in." Satoru suggested.
"He is working as a teaching aid part time. And he did say he could help out whenever we needed it." Suguru added.
"Plus Nanamin is on a business trip for the week~ He'll need something to do while waiting for his beloved's return~!" Satoru teased.
"That settles it then." Suguru was smirking behind that mask, you could just tell.
"How lucky you are, darling, to have the strongest duo be your own personal nurses~" Satoru was so smirking his ass off.
"Even though you'll literally get sick of me?" You shyly asked, squeezing your bottle, apprehensive.
"We have strong ass immune systems, Y/n. Comes with over a decade of immense training." Satoru prided on, kissing your flushed cheek.
"If we can risk ourselves in the face of death as sorcerers, this is nothing." Suguru assured, kissing your other flushed cheek. "I'll call Haibara."
"I'll start up a bath for us all. Thank you big ass bathtubs." Satoru clapped to that.
"What do I do?" Even when sick, tilting your head and batting those eyes made the duo smooch your lips at once.
"Just be a good little patient for us, alright, honey?" God that wink of Suguru's left you more hot than usual as he walked off to make that call.
"Besides, being sick with you means being granted a sick leave and getting paid for it! Ah, thank you, my darling sweetheart~!" Satoru did hug you, nuzzle his face in your hair, and left you a wheezing mess.
"Y - You're w - welcome!"
Well, on the bright side, at least you'll all be sick together.
Snuggled in bed, among discarded tissues, wrappers of cough drops, and smooshed in one big embrace of entangled limbs while binging nothing but sitcoms, movies, and anime.
You would eventually get better in a week's time then later tend to your two enamored, affectionate partners and get them back into tip top shape.
But until then, being in their cozy arms, sleeping smack dabbed in between them, that might as well be the key on your quick road to recovery.
The SatoSugu cure, indeed!
#sick reader#jjk#jjk fanfiction#jjk fanfic#jjk fluff#jjk hurt/comfort#satosugu x reader#jjk au#jujutsu kaisen au#gojo satoru x reader#geto suguru x reader#satoru gojo x reader#suguru geto x reader#jujutsu kaisen#gojo x geto x reader#satoru x suguru x reader#gojo satoru x y/n#gojo satoru x you#geto suguru x y/n#geto suguru x you#satoru gojo x y/n#satoru gojo x you#suguru geto x y/n#suguru geto x you#satoru gojo x suguru geto#gojo satoru x geto suguru#goge#teacher au#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader
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Older Art spoiling his 20 something yo girlfriend that goes to Stanford. She looks up to him and listens to him and does whatever he says and basically lives for his praise.
I Feel So High School (Every Time I Look At You)
Request: Older Art spoiling his 20 something yo girlfriend that goes to Stanford. She looks up to him and listens to him and does whatever he says and basically lives for his praise.
and: art being 10ish years older than reader? that’s all i got. go crazy
Hi! Challengers has been on my mind literally since the day it came out, and I think I've read every single fic on here about it, so I figured I’d give it a shot writing one myself. First of all, I combined your requests, hope that’s ok. Second, this is my first time writing for Art, so please bear with me while I try and get the hang of writing his character. I haven’t written a fic in weeks, so my skills are definitely a little rusty. Please be kind! Anyways, I hope you like this. Let me know what you think, and thank you for the request :)
(Warnings: none? idk, maybe very vague mentions of sex, art is divorced, swearing, i guess the age gap taboo. let me know if i missed anything)
—
You should have known trying to explain your situation with Art to someone else would’ve been difficult, but finally telling your roommate everything was just as humiliating as you thought it would be. She always had a knack for nosing her way into your business, and not even you were immune to her federal level detective skills when it came to getting information out of someone.
“And I’m seeing him today,” you finished your rant as you sucked in a breath, wincing as you waited for the bomb to drop.
But it didn’t. Your roommate just grinned, standing up and walking over to your closet. You watched with a confused look on your face until she turned to you, already elbow deep in your clothes.
“So…you have a sugar daddy?” your roommate asked, trying to stifle a laugh as she rifled through your closet to help you find an outfit. “No judgment, I’m honestly jealous.”
You picked a pillow up off your bed, launching it at her when she smirked as you flushed. “I don’t have a sugar daddy! I have a…well—ok, I don’t know what we are. But he’s not my sugar daddy.”
“No, he’s just an ex pro tennis player with a famous ex wife who was also a pro tennis player that he had a perfect little girl with, complete with a house in the Hamptons. Now, he’s…what, exactly? A coach? A commentator? Part of Stanford’s glorified alumni? No, I’ve got it! I know what he is — hot. In a beekeeping age, recently divorced, kind of way.”
You rolled your eyes, standing up to help her look through your closet. “He’s only in his thirties. You’re making him sound archaic and washed up.”
“Look at you, gushing over him,” she grinned as she finally landed on something for you to wear, quickly handing it to you. “At least he has good taste. You’re hot, too.”
Your roommate turned around while you quickly changed, sitting down at the foot of your bed. She talked over her shoulder as you got dressed, her voice full of curiosity.
“So, how did this all happen anyway?”
You sighed, shaking your head. “Remember alumni week with all the guest lectures and presentations a few months ago?”
“You met Art Donaldson during alumni week? What the fuck! Why didn’t you tell me? I wouldn’t have skipped all my classes that week if I thought I was gonna pick up a trophy husband instead of being forced to sit through a mind-numbingly boring presentation from some guy who used to go here that I’ve never heard of.”
“Sucks to suck, babe,” you grinned, finished getting dressed. “I’m good, you can turn around now.”
She quickly turned around, patting the spot on the bed next to her.
“How did this even happen? I’ve never seen you step foot on a tennis court in your life, and I know they wouldn’t have asked him to speak in a graduate lecture.”
You sat down next to her, nodding. “He did a seminar down at the courts for the kinesiology majors or something like that. They were learning about sports related injuries and how to treat them. He told them about how he hurt his shoulder a few years ago during a match, and he talked about all the physical therapy he had to do.”
“You’re telling me you sat through a kinesiology lecture? On a tennis court? When you don’t even study kinesiology?”
“Absolutely not,” you laughed, leaning back against the headboard. “He told me about it that first week while he was here.”
Your roommate giggled, grabbing your hand and squeezing it. “Oh my god! Okay, okay. Spill. Now. I want to know everything.”
You playfully rolled your eyes, but started ranting again anyway.
—
In truth, you didn’t really know what your relationship with Art was. You’d met when returning alumni who’d gone on to excel in their fields came to campus for guest lectures and demonstrations.
In a total mortifying cliche, you ran into Art in a hallway while you were rushing to a lecture that had already started ten minutes earlier. You would have been on time, but your roommate accidentally locked herself out of your dorm, and the RA wasn’t answering their phone. She had an exam she needed to get to, which—in her own words—“trumps your boring book lecture.” You had no choice but to turn around and save her, making the trek back across campus to let her in. That’s how you ended up running face first into Art, your bag and all your things scattering across the floor. By some miracle, at least the halls were empty.
You quickly kneeled, scrambling to pick up all your things. “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going. I’m late for class.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he said, kneeling to help you.
It was then when you looked up, and you felt your heart jump into your throat. Art Donaldson—famous alumni and world renowned tennis player—was crouched right in front of you, handing you half empty tubes of chapstick, a pair of headphones, and a stray pack of gum. Oh god, you thought to yourself. Why me? Why today? You quickly cleared your throat, standing up.
“God, sorry. Thanks…Mr. Donaldson.”
You cringed as you said it, the title of Mr. feeling off as it rolled off your tongue.
“Mr. Donaldson?” he raised a brow, shaking his head. “No, just call me Art. Uh, you know who I am? Am I actually still recognizable here? I figured no one off of the courts would have any idea who I was.”
You glanced down at his shirt, pointing. “You’re wearing a name tag.”
Art paled, raising a hand to awkwardly scratch at the back of his neck. Good one, he thought to himself. Very humble. He cringed to himself as his cheeks flushed, a small smile on his face.
“Right. I knew that.”
You smiled, pulling your bag back over your shoulder as you let out a little chuckle. “I know who you are. Stanford never lets us forget about their prized students.”
“Ah,” he nodded, grinning. “In my day, it was Reese Witherspoon and Jennifer Connelly. Although, Reese dropped out halfway through her degree, so they don’t talk about her much—”
“And Jennifer left Yale to come study here,” you finished. “That’s one they do still brag about.”
Art smiled, leaning back against the wall as he looked at you. You suddenly became very aware of your situation, tearing your eyes away from him to look down the hall where your class was. Art’s eyes followed, and he straightened up, clearing his throat.
“Am I keeping you?”
“No!” you said all too quickly, biting your tongue for a second before you forced yourself to calm down and continue. “Uh, my class already started. It’s not really important, he doesn’t count attendance anyway. And, to be honest, he’s pretty dull. He managed to make Jane Austen boring.”
“Not Bazin’s class, is it?” Art asked, making you raise a brow.
“Yeah, it is. How’d you know that?”
Art smiled, letting out a little laugh. “That’s why I came this way, I wanted to see if Professor Bazin still taught English here. He was a dinosaur even when I graduated. I’m surprised they still let him teach.”
“If they actually read the end of term course evaluations they make us fill out, they wouldn’t,” you mused, making Art grin wider.
“I guess I should let you go then,” Art shrugged, glancing down the hall. “Wouldn’t want you to miss out on something you could use in your scathing evaluation.”
You glanced back down the hallway at your classroom, but you couldn’t get your feet to move. You weren’t sure why, but you didn’t want to go just yet.
All you did at Stanford was go to and from class and stay on top of your studies. It was monotonous and boring, and you were always up to your neck in papers and projects. Other than your roommate, you hardly had any people left you talked to or hung out with. They all graduated with their undergrad degrees, and you moved on to your graduate studies. Your education was important to you, but it got lonely. You almost never took risks anymore. But as you glanced back at him, that’s what you did.
You took the risk.
“Or…you could save me from my misery?” you stuttered out, an awkward smile on your face.
Art looked at you with an amused expression, tilting his head as he waited for you to continue. You swallowed, fiddling with the strap of your bag.
“My classes are almost all entirely in this building. I’m sure you’re sick of talking about tennis, but between here and my dorm, I don’t think I see enough sunlight in a day to keep me going. Maybe you could walk with me somewhere that actually sees the sun? Doesn’t have to be the courts or anything, although I can say with full confidence that I’ve never actually seen that part of campus and I’m in my graduate studies. Uh, maybe you’ve got somewhere in mind? Or you could let me buy you a cup of shitty cafeteria coffee? I promise I’ll refrain from asking you about your career. But, as I’m sure you can tell just by looking at me, I don’t really know enough about tennis to ask anyway.”
As you rambled on, horrified by your own rambling but determined to put yourself out there, Art smiled.
He’d met a lot of girls over the years. Some girls who had a genuine interest in him but didn’t last, and some who saw his fame and fortune as a one way ticket to an easy life.
None of them mattered.
He had married Tashi, head over heels from the first moment he saw her. He had a kid with her, a career with her, a seemingly picture perfect life with her. It didn’t even occur to him to look at other girls until his marriage started to strain under the weight of his career, and he’d almost forgotten what it was like to look at a girl for the first time and feel that sickening but addictive feeling of butterflies fluttering around in his stomach. After the divorce, it felt so foreign to him that he didn’t even try. He had resigned himself to being a single father who co-parents and lives the rest of his life comfortably and quietly.
But here you were, rambling on with flushed cheeks and bright eyes trying your hardest to ask him out, and he couldn’t be more captivated.
There was just something about you. You were pretty, obviously. Anyone with eyes would’ve been able to see that. But there was something else, too. You were still young and not entirely pessimistic yet, with your whole career ahead of you. Probably no more than a few heartbreaks under your belt, able to muster up some sort of courage to fight for what you wanted. He used to have that, and he missed it — admired it, even. As you finally cut yourself off and looked up at him with mortification written across your face, Art saved you from further embarrassment with a smile.
“Um…coffee sounds good,” he said with a shy smile. “Not from the cafeteria, though. If it’s as bad as it was when I went here, I’m not gonna let you waste your meal card money on it. There’s a cart outside of the athletics center, I stopped by it this morning. It’s still good.”
Trying your best to mask the shock you were feeling by his answer, you quickly nodded. “Oh, okay. Sounds good.”
You spent the entire afternoon with him. Coffee turned into lunch, and lunch turned into a long walk. Although you both had things to do, neither of you wanted to say goodbye and go on with your day. You skipped the rest of your classes for the day, letting Art show you around campus. He took you to all the places you had never been, and you kept quiet and let him show you anyway when you passed somewhere you had already been a hundred times. He was polite and asked you about your major and career goals, even managing a graceful smile when it was his turn to tell you about his career and how it unfolded after he graduated. He was careful to leave out the end, but he found himself comfortable enough to tell you about the first few years. You asked what you could, but you really didn’t know enough about the sport to ask much of anything.
“I’m boring you to death, aren’t I?” he asked when there was a lapse in silence after you passed a poster with his face on it for a Wimbledon campaign.
“No, not at all!” you replied, tilting your head up towards the poster. “I’m just wondering how you managed it.”
Art cocked a brow, turning towards you. “Managed what?”
“Not becoming a complete asshole,” you shrugged, making him burst out laughing. “I’m serious! You’re not the first celebrity to come here during alumni week. The difference between you and them is that you didn’t show up and immediately start bragging about how successful you had become. As far as I can tell, you’re the same as when you graduated. That seems pretty rare.”
“There’s not much to brag about,” he shrugged, too humble for his own good.
“A career Grand Slam isn’t worth bragging about?” you asked, turning away from him when he gave you a confused look. “Okay, fine, I may or may not have Googled you back in the restaurant while you were in the bathroom. I was running out of things to ask you, and I figured I should know something about tennis. Anyway, I was impressed.”
Art just chuckled. “I’m flattered.”
After walking a few more minutes, the street lamps turned on. It had gotten late enough in the evening that they were starting to light up around the darker parts of the campus. It was your cue to stop walking and look around, both of you realizing how long it had been since you started talking.
“I guess I should be headed back to my dorm,” you said, a hint of disappointment in your voice. “My roommate is probably freaking out by now. She knows I never really go anywhere after class without her—and yes, I heard how pathetic that sounded as it came out. She’s probably gonna call campus security if I don’t show up soon.”
Art nodded, knowing you were right. And yet, his feet didn’t move. Neither of you made any attempt to leave, still standing under the soft light of the street lamps. Art looked at you with soft eyes, absentmindedly reaching to fiddle with his wedding ring with his thumb before he remembered it wasn’t there anymore. Finally, he cleared his throat.
“Well…I guess this is the part where I ask you for your number.”
“It was nice meeting you, too—” you started, doing a double take once his words registered. “Wait, what?”
Art let out a nervous laugh, shrugging. “You bought me a coffee, it’s only fair that I do the same. I’m here all week. Maybe you’d want to do this again sometime?”
“Uh, yeah! Yeah, that sounds good,” you replied, trying your best and failing to sound as nonchalant as you could.
Art smiled and pulled out his phone, opening his contacts. He handed it over to you, watching as you typed in your number before handing his phone back to him. You fought the heat pooling in your cheeks, fiddling with the strap of your bag. Art grinned, breaking the silence.
“Go find your roommate. Tell her to call off the search party.”
You chuckled, nodding. “I’m on it. Well…bye, Art.”
“Bye, Y/N. I’ll text you,” he replied, enjoying watching you shuffle back and forth on your heels.
He made you nervous. And for some reason, he liked that. He’d spent practically the last decade of his life perpetually nervous. It was nice to know someone else felt the same way.
He watched you go as you turned around and headed back to your dorm, a distant but still familiar warmth in his chest. He’d only known you for a few hours, but he could already tell he liked you. By the time you made it back to your dorm and managed to come up with an excuse for your roommate who immediately interrogated you the second you stepped through the door, your phone was ringing. You excused yourself to the bathroom with a bashful grin on your face, answering the call.
—
You spent the better part of a week with Art when you both had time between your classes and his seminars.
It felt surprisingly easy and normal talking to him. Your small talk about your careers and plans turned into more personal topics, and then you were talking about anything and everything. You were fully aware of the age gap between you two, but it didn’t bother you nearly as much as you thought it would. If anything, it was part of the draw to him. He was also kind and friendly, with a surprisingly self deprecating sense of humor that made you laugh. Not to mention the fact that he was drop dead gorgeous. You had to actively make sure he didn’t catch you staring at him when his head was turned. He made you want to actually giggle out loud, which is something you never thought you’d do over a guy.
By the end of the week when it was time for him to leave and go back to New York, you both were dreading saying goodbye.
It was late in the evening, about an hour before he had to leave to catch his flight. He’d finally taken you to the courts, once again only lit by the street lamps overhead. It was the first time all week he’d stepped onto the court and actually wanted to be there, not surrounded by onlookers who knew every nook and cranny of his life and career. Instead it was you, the sweet pretty girl who made him genuinely laugh when you asked him why the points system would ever use the term love to describe a lacking score.
He fiddled around for a while, teaching you a few serves and how to hold the racquet to hit the ball. Eventually he was on the other side of the net, watching you giggle and chase after the few balls he’d softly serve your way. He could hear you panting and the sound of your shoes skidding across the court, but your laughter was too sweet to make him stop.
Finally, you stopped to take a break, sitting down on the bench. “Don’t look at me, I might cough up a lung.”
“Very impressive,” he smiled, passing you his water.
“Thank you,” you grinned, motioning between him in the court. “Go on, let’s see what you���ve got. I’m down for the count, but I’m sure the ball machine will be more than happy to fill in for me.”
Art smiled, watching you grin at him with flushed cheeks and glowy skin. If anyone else was asking, he wouldn’t have done it. He wasn’t interested in showing off his skills, or lack thereof to put it more accurately as of late — he’d stopped training as intensely after the divorce, no new tournaments waiting for him to come and win. But the look on your face when you asked was just one he couldn’t say no to. Plus, your knowledge of the sport wasn’t that vast. You probably wouldn’t notice if he slipped up anyway. And if you did, you’d be too kind to make him feel bad about it.
“If you insist,” he groaned, but he was still smiling to himself as he moved to the other side of the court.
You watched him play for a few more minutes. He really was something to see. Every movement he made was smooth and graceful, a far cry from the stumbling around and huffing and puffing you had been doing. Every ball hit its target, every serve lining up exactly where he wanted it to. As silly as it sounded, you actually had to prevent yourself from clapping once he finally slowed down and turned the machine off.
“Look at you go,” you smiled from the bench, handing him back his water as he walked back over.
His cheeks flushed pink, and he was silently praying you couldn’t see it from under the low lights. He was too busy getting all flustered to reply to you, and it made you smile. It was silent for a long moment as you stared at each other, before he finally stood up. You followed him, a sinking feeling in your gut as you realized that it was probably time to say goodbye.
It had been a week you had never even dreamed would’ve happened to you, and yet it did. The one risk you decided to take had led to the most fun you’d had in your entire time at Stanford. You didn’t want to see him go.
As you looked up at him with soft eyes and a melancholy look on your face, like you were looking to him for all the answers, Art felt a sharp tug in his chest. He found himself immediately wanting to fix it, wanting to make you smile again — smile because of him. He’d have done anything in that moment to get you to laugh again.
So, against his better judgment, he leaned in and kissed you.
It was a spur of the moment decision, one he almost immediately regretted. But then he felt you sink into the kiss, your hands coming up to his waist to steady yourself. He cupped your cheeks and pulled you into him, unable to stop the smile spreading across his lips.
And that was all it took — he was falling, and falling hard.
—
That was months ago now, and yet, Art still found reasons to visit you.
When there was lapses in tours, or it was Tashi’s week with Lily, he always somehow found himself ending up coming right back to you. He’d pick you up from your dorm, and you’d spend the entire day with him. On weekends, you ended up in whatever hotel he was staying at, telling your roommate you were going back home for a few days. When you weren’t together, you were constantly texting or calling. He even sent a postcard once when the ATP took him to Europe. It was cheesy, but you couldn’t wipe the smile off your face all day when you got it in the mail.
You hadn’t exactly put a label on the relationship, but it was clear to the both of you that you meant more to each other than either of you cared to admit out loud. Quite a bit more, actually.
And Art wasn’t stupid — he knew what your relationship looked like.
Recently divorced, a younger woman by his side. If they knew, the media would paint him as one of two options: an easily manipulated victim of a gold digger, or a washed up athlete who split with his wife that was now taking what he could get, the younger and prettier the better.
But that wasn’t it at all for Art.
It wasn’t just sex, or a new pretty face. You were something different. A breath of fresh air. Someone who didn’t care about his career or money or fame. You had no interest in what he could offer you, or what you could get out of him. You never made him feel pressured to do anything or talk about anything he didn’t want to. He’d spent so many years craving a sense of normalcy and peace. Time and time again, he’d wanted to go to Tashi and beg for a break in his routine. But, always too afraid to disappoint her and everyone else watching him, he stayed quiet. He never got a break. As odd as it was to say, that’s what you were to him when he met you — a break. A minute to breathe, a moment to relax. He always felt that way around you.
Simply put, he was head over heels for you. He didn’t think he’d feel like that for another woman after Tashi until he met you, and it shocked him how easily the feeling came to him.
And it wasn’t just him that had fallen.
You practically hung on every word he said, and soaked up every ounce of praise he gave you. You had never been with someone like him before. Someone so experienced and sure of himself, but just as gentle and patient as he was sure. He made you laugh and smile, and he made you feel safe. For whatever reason he had taken interest in you, you didn’t care, you just didn’t want it to stop. You clung to it, enjoying it while it lasted.
And if either of you had anything to say about it, it would last.
—
By the time you finished explaining your relationship with Art to your roommate, she was already pushing you out the door.
“Go, go, go,” she squealed, tossing you your keys. “Wait!”
She wrapped her hand around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks as she glanced down at the outfit she chose. “Is that a new dress? Did he buy you a dress? Oh my god, please tell me he has a brother.”
“Not sure,” you grinned, smoothing your hand down your front. “Show up to alumni week next time and find out.”
You were already pressing a kiss to her cheek and rushing down the hall before she could get out another word, giggling as you made your way to the stairs.
On the drive over to the hotel, the nerves in your stomach were making you nervously tap your fingers on the steering wheel. You must’ve got caught by every stop light, making the trip even longer. You were practically vibrating once you finally pulled into the parking lot, grabbing your bag and hurrying inside before your nerves got the better of you and made you stand like an idiot in the lobby, trying to muster up the courage to get in the elevator. You coasted on autopilot as you forced your feet to lead you upstairs to his floor, all the way down to his door. You only came back into your body when you raised a hand to knock on the door, pausing to take a deep breath.
Just knock, you thought to yourself. You’re a big girl. Just knock.
You had barely even knocked twice on the door before the door swung open, and you came face to face with Art. Your breath hitched in your throat, and you took a second to take him in. Still as pretty as you remembered, and every bit as alluring. You could feel yourself melting.
The feeling was mutual.
Art let out a sigh of relief, like it was the first good breath he had taken in weeks. A genuine smile crept onto his face as he reached for you, practically making grabby hands like a child.
“Come here, pretty girl.”
You tried and failed to stifle a giggle, immediately burying yourself in his chest. You let out a hmph as you pressed your cheek against him, your arms wrapping tightly around his waist. You could feel his thumb running along the bare skin of your arm, his lips pressing a kiss to the top of your head. He nudged the door closed with his foot, tugging your bag from your shoulder and setting it on the floor without even letting you go. He was warm to the touch, and steady against you. He hummed into your hair, squeezing you tighter.
“There she is,” he murmured, letting out a small laugh. “My girl.”
“Hi, baby,” you giggled, the sound making his heart soar in his chest.
He slowly walked you backwards to the bed, supporting most of your weight as you laid down. He was quick to follow, burying his face into the crook of your shoulder. His arms hooked lazily around your waist, his weight pressing you into the mattress.
This is what you both had been waiting for. This feeling, this moment. Just this.
“You look very pretty today,” he whispered into your skin, pressing a kiss where his lips rested. “All this for me?”
The humor in his voice made you grin, your fingers running through his hair. “Couldn’t let you be that pretty all by yourself.”
Art smiled, pressing his face further into your neck as he let out a breath. You tightened your grip around him, holding him close. You let your eyes close, resting your cheek against the top of his head.
A comfortable silence fell over the both of you, as easy as it ever was.
—
A/N - Hi! So sorry this took so long to get out, thank you for your patience. I keep rereading this and editing it over and over, I’m not totally happy with it. But something is better than nothing, and I’m tired of staring at, so here you go! Hope this is ok, let me know what you think :)
#challengers x reader#challengers#art donaldson#art donaldson x reader#art donaldson imagine#taylor swift#so high school#ttpd#the tortured poets department#the anthology
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Ahem- what if reader gave nerdy!Miguel aphrodisiac ( secretly just to see his reaction if he be extra needy or force 😩❤ idk you choose OR both 😏) and Miguel is trying everything in is power too not cum on reader touches that he normally would have to beg for, but while reader is letting Miguel, this (ONLY)time to goes crazy on her body ,free use!, but it thing like these always have a price to pay😝! And that price is doing her painfully long assignment and carry her bag if there were something Miguel hate well now he going to hate it even more since he doing this for a week or a month! (I bet that Miguel least favorite thing to do) 😘 hope you have a great day though
I definitely SO normal about this😌🙌
STOP RNNNNN i can literally imagine miguel fucking like a RABBIT like omg
cw: aphrodisiac use, mating press, miguel grows balls, he fucks the shit out of you, unprotected sex (wrap it children), squirting 🤭, miguel got a dirty mouth, creampie action once more. i briefly looked over this so expect typos lmao enjoy 💋
it’s been 3 hours. you and miguel had decided to try those viral honey packs you saw, wondering what the effect would be. well- you made miguel try them and see how fast it would take for him to cum.
it started off all fun and games until after miguel’s first orgasm, he lost control. you’re currently in a mating press, pussy covered in slick and cum, your body is practically limp from the pleasure and overstimulation. the sheets are wet from your combined fluids, and your squirt.
“i- i can’t anymore. no more miguel,” you heave out, pushing your hands to his pelvis.
“move your hands,” miguel says unmoved. he looked so fucking sexy, fucking into you, face etched in insurmountable pleasure, his hulking body covered in sweat and hickies. “gonna cum in you, make my mistress a mommy,” he moans out, pounding into you with all he has and you have no choice but to take it with your feet at your head.
“pleasepleaseplease, oh my fucking- ah!” you squeal, feeling your- how many orgasms was it now?- building up inside you, a familiar pressure bubbling up behind it. “i’m gonna- gonna cum,” you moan out, miguel still pounding in you. the sound of your skin slapping together fills up your dorm room.
“cum all over me, mama. i need you all over me,” he groans out, his own orgasm seeming to come close as well. you let out a squeal as your orgasm wracks over your body violently, pushing out spurts of clear liquid all over miguel’s abdomen.
“fuuuuckkk, so good,” miguel moans. he thrusts a few more times, fucking you through the rest of your orgasm, and then spills into you with a groan. he pulls out of your sore pussy, laying on his back next to you in your queen bed.
“i hope you know you’re not getting away from this scott free,” you quip, turning your head to look at his side profile.
back to normal, miguel’s face reddens realizing what had just happened. “a- anything you command, mistress.”
#miguel o'hara#miguel o’hara drabble#miguel atsv smut#miguel o’hara smut#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel o’hara x you#miguel atsv#sub miguel o'hara#you’ve got mail💌#<nerd!miguel3
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Hi, can I get something w the prompt 30? Maybe w Damian.
If it's friends to lovers-
Idk, I just want some inocent fluff and jokes.
I‼️ Need‼️ Sweetness‼️
Prompt #30: laying their head on the other’s shoulder
Today was an exhausting day, both at school and doing your vigilante work. Luckily, before you left back to your place Damian had invited you over, and how could you refuse?
Your bags were taken upon entrance by Alfred and then you were led deeper into Wayne Manor. Damian led you to the living room, or in other words- one of them.
It was a place to just relax and it’s not like any of the other residents were going to intrude so you and Damian whipped out snacks that you both bought on the way and some that were already here.
Not to mention how he had prepared a blanket and sat on the couch next to you…
The plan? It was to watch of movie of course! I mean it was already deep into the night and as much tired as you were- you just couldn’t sleep.
The same could be said about Damian, he was up right alongside you. It was kind of him to.
I mean, it had hardly been a few weeks that you were only friends now turned lovers. Things were bound to get awkward or lovey- or both, eventually.
Well a voice brought you out of your thoughts and back to reality. “So, you know what you want to watch or am I gonna choose?” Damian was standing by you on the couch facing the tv as he scrolled through Netflix.
“Um no I don’t know, how about you decide?” Best to cover up the fact you weren’t paying attention by forcing the question back at him.
“Alright then…” his tone was obviously suspicious but he went along without a fuss and chose a random movie that you weren’t familiar with but knew he enjoyed.
After, he snuck under the covers and sat by your side as the movie began. Throughout the movie you could tell from your peripheral vision that Damian was looking at you to gauge your reaction at certain scenes but you pretended to be none the wiser.
Since the movie was 2 hours long you got a bit lost in keeping track of time. You searched for your phone under the covers and once you found and read the screen you made a mental note of it being 12:00
One more hour to go… which you miserably failed. You were struggling to stay awake and the only thing that snapped you back to reality was a sudden weight on your shoulder.
You turned to face whatever it was, I mean were you really so off guard that this snuck pass your defenses?
Well much to your not so much surprise, it was Damian. His head was rested against your right shoulder and his eyes were closed and you took note of the gentle rising and falling of his chest.
He was so cute and looked peaceful as he slept. You sort of felt an ego boost at the thought of Damian feeling so safe around you that he could not only fall asleep but also let you touch him without rousing him awake.
Which is something you found out when you glided your fingers through his soft hair and gently pushed aside any stray ones from his face.
Maybe it was because of how late it was, maybe because of the lack of light, or maybe just the urge to cuddle with Damian but you let out a breath and let your head go limp and rest on top of Damian’s.
What’s the worse that could happen?
Well not anything particularly bad in your opinion. Luckily it was the weekend so you didn’t worry as much once you awoke but what really bothered you was the snickering sounds surrounding you.
Once you opened your eyes and saw Damian, his usual cool demeanor was gone. His face was flushed to the nines and you soon found out why.
Three of his siblings Dick, Todd, and Tim had found you sleeping there and thought I’d be cute to take a picture.
That wasn’t so bad but you knew Damian so him reacting this way wasn’t so bad.
Until Tim revealed that although he found you all that way, he left and returned with the other two to find Damian planting a kiss to your cheek.
You were shocked and turned to Damian as your cheeks filled with red. “Is that true?!?”
Your question fell on deaf ears and despite that you knew your answer when Damian turned away and refused to make eye contact.
Let’s just say it was an awkward family breakfast, leaving Damian with everything but his honor and dignity.
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