#remind me if I failed to tag anything

[shmorp-mcdurgen]

Alternate AU: Fateful Reunion

The BPS gets a call about an abandoned neighborhood, and decide to investigate it. However, they meet a familiar yet malevolent face, and unfortunately, he remembers them as well.

TW: blood, violence, body/face horror, suicide mentions/thoughts/implications, character death

Notes: this. Is the longest fic I’ve posted so far, being nearly 9’000 words long, so. A bit of a long read compared to the others. This is the canon ending to the au’s main storyline, so I hope it’s up to expectations. :)

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Sarah was the one who heard the phone ring.

It was one of the very few nights where Sarah was the last one awake, with both Cesar and, surprisingly, Seth asleep in their own rooms. Sarah was wearing a baggy band T-shirt, which she got at a thrift store, along with a pair of black shorts. She was in the middle of drawing a picture of a crow on her sketchpad when she heard the home phone ring from its hook on the wall. Sarah looked up at the phone through her long, chestnut brown hair, lowering her sketchbook before placing it and her pencil on the coffee table. She quickly approached the phone, hoping to answer it before the ringing awoke the others. She took it off of its base and held it up to her ear.

“You’ve reached the Bythorne Paranormal Society, how may I help you?”

 Cesar was sprawled out on his bed, asleep in a plain white T-shirt and shorts, barely covered by his covers. His jet black hair was a complete mess, the black hair nearly covering up the grey streak in his bangs. His therapy cat Johnny, a grey English shorthair, was curled up against him, sleeping peacefully along with his owner. They rested on the twin sized bed for a while before Sarah swung open the door, flicking on the light as soon as she entered the room.

“Cesar!”

Cesar awoke, looking up with squinted eyes before shielding them from the light with his arm. He groggily sat up, staring at Sarah as he attempted to gain his bearings. “Hmm? What’s up?” Cesar mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

“We have a job to do, get dressed.” Sarah stated.

Cesar stared at Sarah with confusion in his eyes, half asleep but trying to appear awake. “…This late?” Cesar asked. “What time is it…?”

“Uh…almost three?”

Cesar groaned before throwing the blanket off of him, causing Johnny to awake as well and hop off of the bed and onto the ground. “Okay, so…what’s the job?” Cesar asked as he stood up from the bed. However, when he looked back to where Sarah was, he saw that she was gone, instead walking down the hallway. Cesar stood still for a while before shrugging his shoulders. “Okay, cool.”

Sarah approached another one of the doors, which was cracked open slightly. Sarah knocked on the door lightly, waiting outside of the room with an excited smile on her face. She waited for a few moments, tempted to knock again before the door fully opened. Seth came into view, grimacing slightly from the pain in his stiff joints. He was wearing a pair of grey sweatpants as his pajamas, and his straight black hair was partially covering his face. His facial hair seemed especially scraggly, and his eyes were in a half-lidded, tired glare, fixed on the much shorter woman in front of him. “Everything alright?” Seth asked.

“We got a job.” Sarah said with a smile. “In Mandela, no less.”

“…You seem…excited.” Seth stated. “Thought you didn’t like going on investigations anymore.”

“It’s…it’s not about alternates.” Sarah specified. “It’s just some paranormal activity in some abandoned neighborhood. Could just be…your average ghost report.”

“…It’s 3 AM, Sarah. Mandela’s an hour away.”

“So? You’re normally awake at this time anyway,” Sarah said. “Now go get a shirt on, and we’ll get going.”

Sarah left to go get ready, leaving Seth behind as he sighed deeply, rubbing his eyes. It was silly of him to think he could actually get a good night’s sleep for once; at least Sarah seemed to be excited. He turned to his left and saw a pile of clothes on a chair in his room, grabbing a few things off of it before closing the bedroom door.

Sarah stood in front of the couch, holding onto a black backpack as she gently placed gear into it. She was already completely dressed, wearing her black BPS hoodie, dark blue jeans, and black and white sneakers. As she packed, Seth was sitting on a metal chair next to the wall, wrapping braces around his knees and back, over his grey skinny jeans and dark grey tank top. Smoke billowed out of the cigarette in his mouth as he finished wrapping up his joints and putting on fingerless gloves over his scarred hands.

“Do I have to tell you to stop smoking again?” Sarah asked.

Seth paused, glancing over at Sarah before taking the cigarette out of his mouth. “What’s wrong with it?” He asked.

“Nothing, just…don’t do it in the house.” Sarah said. “It makes it smell like shit in here.”

Seth sighed, putting out his cigarette on his thigh, ignoring it leaving a burn mark on his pants. As Seth slipped on his jacket, Cesar entered the living room, Johnny following close behind. He was wearing a white, button up shirt underneath his unzipped BPS hoodie, along with blue jeans and red high-top shoes.

“So uh…what’s the deal? Just…ghosts again?” Cesar asked, turning towards Sarah.

“I think so. It’s what it sounded like.” Sarah responded as she zipped up her backpack and swung it over her back. “Should be a pretty easy job; in and out.”

Cesar glanced at Seth, who was pulling his hair back into a messy bun.

“You have everything together, kid?” Seth asked as he met Cesar’s gaze before standing up from his seat, walking over to the coffee table before picking up a belt with a pistol holster attached to it.

“I guess so, yeah.” Cesar said, holding back the urge to yawn. “Just…wish it was…you know…not now.”

“Yeah,” Seth sighed. “But that’s how it goes.” Seth walked past Cesar, grabbing his trusty shotgun, which was leaning against the wall. He checked to see if it was loaded, and when he saw that it was, he pointed it towards the ground. “I guess we should get going. We have an hour long drive ahead of us.”

“Can I drive?” Sarah asked.

“You were pulled over for speeding last time.” Seth stated. “I’m surprised you weren’t arrested.”

Sarah chuckled slightly, a sly smile forming on her face. “At least my face isn’t plastered on wanted posters.”

Seth let out a not-so-sincere chuckle before sighing. “…Yeah. Whatever, we need to get going.” Seth led the two other members out of the door, closing it behind them after shutting the lights off. Johnny the cat sat in front of the door, meowing before resting his head on his paws, starting the wait for Cesar to get back home.

 The streets were nearly completely barren and dark, with the clouds overhead concealing the moon. The headlights of the BPS’s van cut through the darkness as it rolled down the road, leaving town and heading to the neighboring county. Cesar sat in the back of the van, arms crossed as he leaned back in his seat, eyes closed as he attempted to regain some lost sleep. Sarah sat in the front seat next to Seth, who was driving in silence. Sarah also remained quiet, glancing back at Cesar every once in a while, seeing that he was already asleep. It was almost miraculous that he could sleep in an uncomfortable van when he had trouble sleeping in his own bed. Though to be fair, Sarah found Seth crashed on the floor a couple times.

“What exactly did the person want anyway?” Seth asked, breaking the silence.

“They saw some strange activity in a neighborhood that had been blocked off for around a year.” Sarah explained. “The MCPD wouldn’t talk about it, who would’ve figured, so they called us. They just wanted a checkup. They offered around…400$ for the job.”

“Hmm.” Seth stared at the road in front of him. “I’m surprised; Cesar seemed alright, with going back to Mandela, knowing…y’know…”

Sarah nodded slightly, before her eyes widened suddenly and her breath audibly hitched. “Oh…shit.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I…I didn’t tell him we were going to Mandela.”

Seth froze, sighing slightly before pulling the van over to the side of the road, stopping and turning towards Sarah with furrowed brows. “You…didn’t tell him?” Seth asked, his serious tone making Sarah’s guilt already feel worse. “You didn’t tell him about a job he was going on?”

“I forgot! I was trying to get everything together quickly, i-it just…slipped.” Sarah said, trying to keep her voice quiet.

“Sarah, you know damn well how he feels about this county.” Seth stated.

“I know, I’m…I’m sorry.”

Seth sighed, looking back at Cesar, who was still asleep. “God…damn it.” Seth stared at the ground, his bushy eyebrows furrowed. “…He can stay in the van while we get it done. We’ll…tell him when he wakes up.”

“…A bit of a rude awakening, don’t you think?” Sarah asked.

“Not like we have much of a choice now.” Seth said, shifting the vehicle back into drive before continuing down the road, passing by the wheat field that was to their right. “We’re already here.”

Sarah looked through the windshield, seeing a sign on the left side of the road, reading in faded green letters: “WELCOME TO MANDELA COUNTY.” She slumped back in her seat, crossing her arms and lightly rubbing them. She felt like complete shit. She completely forgot about Cesar’s…experiences with Mandela, and didn’t even warn him about it. He’d go into a fucking frenzy if he knew where they were going. No wonder Seth seemed slightly pissed off; it was an awful mistake to make. Sarah just hoped Cesar wouldn’t be…too upset.

 When the van drove into town, it was clear that curfew had been in effect for a while, as there was no movement to be seen. No cars drove around town, and no one was walking on the sidewalks. It felt…surreal to be back in Mandela, for both Sarah and Seth. Sarah had lived in the town they were in, and seeing the vaguely familiar streets and buildings made her feel nostalgic, though unnerved. Seth may not have lived in the same town, though he too lived in Mandela when he was younger, and he didn’t especially appreciate being back. None of the BPS had especially positive memories with the county; hell, they doubted anyone did.

 Seth parked the van in front of a street, its headlights beaming through the steel bars of the gate leading into the neighborhood. Brick walls stretched on for a couple blocks, seeming to be hastily put together instead of being neatly placed. Sarah stared at the gate, seeing a few of the vacant homes on the other side of it. She furrowed her brows before looking over to Seth. “I...guess we should wake up Ces.” Sarah said.

“I’ll do it.” Seth stated, taking a couple small objects out of his pocket before handing them to Sarah. “Take these lock-picks and unlock the gate. I’ll take care of Torres.”

“You sure?”

“I can handle it.”

Sarah took the lock picks out of Seth’s hands before unbuckling her seatbelt and opening the door, walking out before slamming it shut. Seth sighed deeply, turning towards Cesar before removing his seatbelt and moving to the back of the van. He sat in front of Cesar, hesitantly and lightly shaking his arm. Cesar awoke eventually, groaning slightly as he regained his bearings and realized how sore his neck was from sleeping weirdly. “Are we there?” He asked.

Seth looked at his feet, breathing deeply through his nose. “Yes.”

“…What’s up?”

“…Cesar, you are free to stay in the van for this job.” Seth stated. “You don’t have to join us.”

“…Okay?” Cesar said, sitting up straight. “…Why are you telling me this?”

Seth thought for a moment, biting his lip slightly. “…You may recognize…where we’re working tonight.” He said, scratching the back of his neck.

“You’re acting weird, dude…”

“…Cesar…” Seth looked up, staring Cesar in the eye. “…We’re currently in Mandela.”

Cesar didn’t seem to respond for a second, instead staring blankly at Seth for a few moments. That was until his eyes seemed to widen and his brows furrowed up, his hands noticeably shaking. “Y-You didn’t tell me that.” Cesar stated.

“I’m aware that—”

“I want to go home,” Cesar said, his tone sounding almost desperate. “I-I want to go home now…”

“Cesar…” Seth said.

“Please, just fucking take me home,” Cesar was trembling, holding his arms close to his stomach as his shoulders appeared to tense up. “I can’t be here, I-I just…I just can’t, I can’t.”

Seth sat next to Cesar, seeing that he was beginning to hyperventilate. “Get me out of here, please, just—I can’t—I don’t want to be here,” Cesar mumbled. “He’ll find me, he’ll—”

“Cesar.” Seth stated, lightly resting a hand on Cesar’s shoulder. Cesar jerked around, looking at Seth with silent tears running down his face. Seth could see the fear in his eyes, making Seth himself feel his heart sink to his feet. He sighed before wrapping his arms around Cesar, letting him cry into his shoulder. Seth’s heart hurt hearing his muffled sobs, but he didn’t pull away. Though he was curious on whom the “He” was that Cesar mentioned, Seth decided not to ask further. Last think Cesar needed was prying questions; if anyone knew how awful it was to be questioned about your past, it was Seth.

When Sarah successfully unlocked the deadbolt, she removed the chains keeping the gate shut and pushed it open; all before jogging back to the van and hopping into the front seat. With that, they were able to pass, and the van drove past the barrier and into the barren neighborhood. The warm glow of the streetlights shone on the damp asphalt, puddles still formed from a recent rainfall. The headlights of the BPS van reflected on the dark windows on the sides of homes, illuminating the sometimes cracked glass. Graffiti was covering the outer walls of some of the homes, though the BPS couldn’t help but notice that the vandalism became rarer as they progressed.

Cesar’s leg bounced rhythmically as he sat in his seat, lightly rubbing his fingers over the faint scar across his right hand. His brown eyes stared at the ground, breathing in and out deeply as he tried to fight the urge to panic. He wouldn’t have gone if he knew where they were going; that was a fact. It didn’t help that a part of him recognized the street, though he wasn’t alone in that thought. Sarah too began to recall things about the neighborhood they were in.

It started with a vaguely familiar tree she saw on the side of the road, or one of the homes having Christmas lights on all year despite no one living there. However, it wasn’t until she saw a line of trees blocking the next house that she figured it out. “Stop the car.” Sarah placed her hand on Seth’s arm, causing him to look at her with confusion. He obliged, parking the vehicle in the middle of the road before turning to look at Sarah.

“What’s wrong?” Seth questioned.

Sarah pointed towards the pale grey house that was barely peeking out from behind the trees. “I know that house.” Sarah said, her voice strangely quiet.

Cesar, almost sensing her concern, sat up, looking at Sarah with pensiveness in his eyes. “Wh-What house?” He asked quietly.

Sarah glanced back at Cesar, then to Seth, then back to the house before abruptly opening the door and running down the road in front of the van. Seth watched her for a second before looking back to Cesar. “Stay here, I’ll be back in a second.” Seth then opened his door, following Sarah until he saw that she was stopped in the middle of the street, staring up at something. “What’s going on, are you alright?” Seth asked, lightly placing a hand on Sarah’s shoulder.

“Oh my God.” Sarah muttered. “…This is Mark’s house.”

Seth looked at the aforementioned home, seeing the absolutely terrible state it was in. The pale grey paint on the outer panels was chipping and peeling away, though it was covered by layers of moss and other plants, making it appear to be a yellowish green. The grass on the lawn was almost completely dead, aside from one spot where a few weeds were growing. There were two windows leading to the second floor, with one of them completely shattered, leading to a dark room. Sarah’s eyes were fixed on that window specifically, as she remembered the room it led to. It was Mark’s bedroom, where he stayed in most of the time.

“Mark?” Seth asked.

“My brother?” Sarah seemed almost offended that the name didn’t ring a bell. “H-He wasn’t seen in eight years; I-I…I just…”

Seth looked back up at the house, feeling a strange pit in his stomach.

“I need to go in.” Sarah started walking towards the home before Seth grabbed the back of her hoodie.

“Wait.” Seth stated. “…get your gear first. I need to get my gun too.”

Cesar watched through the windshield as the two walked back to the van, opening the back doors to grab their things. “What’s going on?” Cesar asked.

“We found a house we’re going to—” Seth started, but was interrupted by Sarah.

“I’m going into Mark’s house.” Sarah stated. “We’re seeing if we can find out anything about his disappearance.”

“Wh-what?!” Cesar’s voice squeaked, and his eyes shown horror. “N-No, no, no you shouldn’t…you can’t…”

“I’m not letting this chance go, Cesar.” Sarah said, her voice stern. “The MCPD isn’t telling me shit about him; I’m going to investigate this myself.”

“Sarah.” Seth didn’t say it out loud, but his tone said “Stop talking,” and Sarah took the hint and became silent. Seth could see Cesar shaking, harder than he was before. He looked like he wanted to say more, but couldn’t get anything past his tight throat. Seth looked back at Sarah before crawling into the van and carefully approaching Cesar.

“We’ll be out in no more than ten minutes, and we can go—”

“We need more than ten minutes for this.” Sarah said.

Seth glared at her for a second before turning back. “We can go home after we’re done.”

“I-I…I.” Cesar couldn’t get his words out, instead trying to hold back his tears.

Seth backed away a second, but when Cesar’s expression seemed to become more panicked by the action, Seth paused. “I’ll be back, don’t worry.” He said in a calm tone. “It won’t take long, I promise. Okay?”

Cesar nodded, and Seth exited the vehicle, closing the doors behind him. “God…damn it.” Seth said, turning back towards Sarah before they both started walking back to the house. “Why…why this job out of all of them?”

“What do you mean?” Sarah asked.

“You know how fucking…sensitive Cesar is to this shit.”

“Seth, I don’t expect you to…understand this kinda stuff,” Sarah said. “But I haven’t learned anything new about Mark in nearly a decade. This is the first chance in forever I’ve had to figure out anything about his disappearance.”

“…What do you mean you don’t expect me to understand?” Seth asked, his brows furrowing as they paused in the house’s driveway.

“W-Well…you were an only child, right?” Sarah asked, though she began to wonder if bringing it up was a bad idea. Seth’s nose twitched slightly as his expression darkened.

“Sure, but I think I can understand wanting to know about a loved one’s disappearance…right?” Seth asked rhetorically. “Just ‘cause I never had a sibling like you doesn’t mean I’m heartless to shit like this.”

“Yeah, I…yeah.” Sarah sighed, avoiding eye contact.

“Whatever, let’s…get this done quickly,” Seth continued. “I don’t want Cesar here any longer than necessary.”

Sarah and Seth approached the front door, though when Seth grabbed the doorknob, he found that it was locked. “Is there another way in?” Seth asked, turning back to Sarah.

“If I remember right, there’s a back door that leads to the kitchen.”

Sarah and Seth then jogged around the home to test their luck with the alternative entrance. Luckily, the door in fact existed, though they couldn’t see inside through the window in the door, as it was covered by a thin curtain. Seth tried his luck with the door again, though it appeared to be locked as well. Sarah sighed in disappointment when she saw that it didn’t open, but was immediately startled by the sound of shattering glass. She looked back up to see that Seth had broken the glass window in the door with the butt of his shotgun.

“What the hell?!” Sarah questioned.

Seth looked back at Sarah, his expression almost like a toddler that got caught stealing snacks from the cabinet. “No one lives here anymore.” He stated.

“That doesn’t mean you can just break shit!”

Seth turned back to the shattered window before reaching through it and unlocking the door from the inside. “…Too late now.”

 Cesar sat in the van, his knees pressed against his torso as he thought to himself. He had a pit in his stomach, feeling nothing more than an intense want to go home and get the fuck away from there. He hadn’t been even remotely close to Mark’s old house since nearly a decade before, and Cesar wasn’t necessarily ecstatic to break that record. Nevertheless, there he was; back in the cesspool that was Mandela County, and back in the town he swore to never return to in a million years.

Despite not wanting to move, he hated staying in the van. He was sitting in the cramped van with the extra gear and tech, half of which barely worked. He was alone with the thoughts he desperately wanted to run from, which was almost scarier than being back where he started. Cesar glanced towards the floor, his eye catching something on the ground. It was a spare pistol, resting on the ground next to a box of bullets. Cesar’s watery eyes stared at the firearm before his shaky hand grabbed onto it. If he was going to be in Mandela again, he might as well accept and face it.

 The home smelled of mildew and dust, its stagnant air feeling oddly claustrophobic. Seth walked into the living room, his boots pressing down the old shaggy carpet as he looked around, his gun in hand and his guard up.  Sarah’s flashlight pointed at the walls, seeing the stained and peeled wallpaper. There were the occasional framed photo on the wall, though most were completely shattered or on the ground somewhere. It felt surreal being in the home again, especially seeing that it was in such disrepair. It felt as if it had an air of sadness and despair, though Sarah wasn’t sure why. Either way, she began to understand why Cesar was so hesitant.

Seth walked towards the couch, his eye catching something resting on its dusty cushions. He leaned over and picked it up, examining it carefully. It was a worn out notebook, its yellow cover torn and dirty. He gently placed his shotgun down on the sofa before opening up the notebook, staring at its contents. It appeared to be a sketchbook, though he couldn’t help but feel his heart sink as he stared at the sketches themselves.

The first one he saw was what seemed to be a screaming figure, though it was hastily drawn, and hard to distinguish. It didn’t even appear to be human; more like a half-human, half-animal creature with long and jagged teeth.  Seth turned the page, seeing an abstract humanoid figure grabbing its head, also screaming. Every single drawing Seth saw was all but scribbles, just barely conveying whatever it was supposed to convey. He glanced at Sarah, who was staring at a photo on the wall, with her light trained on it. Seth closed the notebook, grabbing his gun with his free hand before walking over to where Sarah was standing.

“What is it?” Seth asked quietly.

“It’s…a picture of Mark and Cesar.” Sarah said, continuing to stare at the photo. Seth also looked at the picture, seeing that it was of Cesar and Mark in Halloween costumes. At least it appeared to be Cesar, though his face appeared to be scratched out. “…It’s been tampered.”

“Yeah?” Seth said, holding up the notebook towards Sarah. “Take a look at this.”

Sarah looked at the notebook, grabbing it from Seth’s hand before opening it. Her face immediately showed concern and confusion as she flipped through the pages. “What the fuck…” She sighed.

“Was…Mark an artist?” Seth asked.

“Well, yeah, but…not…not like this.” Sarah looked at the ground before taking off her back pack and unzipping it, putting the notebook inside. “It just doesn’t make sense…”

Seth looked back towards the photos on the wall, seeing the broken glass and scratched out faces. Though something seemed to connect them all; every photo with Cesar involved was altered. Some with black marker covering him up, and others with an entire half of the picture ripped off. It was bizarre, and only made Seth’s strange feeling of dread become less and less easy to be ignored. However, that could’ve also been the fact that the house felt so…constricting, despite it being decently big. It almost felt like it was trying to choke him.

 Cesar stood outside of the van, staring up at the house in front of him, grasping the pistol with his trembling hand. He breathed in and out deeply, preparing himself before finally stepping onto the driveway. As he looked for an entrance, or any sign of where the other two went, he felt a strange dread in his stomach. He pushed it down, trying to ignore it the best he could as he walked around the house. He also forced himself to ignore the feeling of being watched every time he glanced up at the second story window.

 Sarah stood in front of the stairway, her light pointed up the steps. She glanced behind her, seeing Seth wandering around the living room, examining certain objects around the house. Sarah then looked back up the stairs, breathing in before walking up the creaky steps. As she made her way upstairs, Seth stared at the mudroom in front of the front door. There was a knocked over table in front of the door, with the shards of a smashed vase next to it. It looked like the signs of a break in, though it was unclear where the point of entry was, as the door was still locked.

Next to the table however was yet another broken picture frame, one that was bigger than the others. Seth crouched down, wincing slightly when his knees cracked before grabbing onto the frame and standing back up, turning it around to see the photo inside. It was a picture of Mark, Sarah, and Cesar all together, though once again Cesar’s face was crossed out. However, words were written on the picture as well, almost covering it entirely:

“I HATE YOU”

Reading over the message made Seth’s heart sink, and not soon after he felt something growing in his stomach. It was an immense feeling of dread; more intense than any similar feeling he had before. It felt like a metaphorical punch in the gut, making him drop the picture entirely.

His breathing quickened as his mind began to connect the dots. The crossed out photos, the eerie drawings, the message written on the photo, even the fact that the neighborhood was blocked off; it all began to make sense. Whoever, or whatever, had been in that house hated Cesar, and not only were Seth and Sarah there, but also the very man the thing living there hated. He just brought his friends, hell, his family to the belly of the beast like a fucking moron. And to make everything worse?

“Seth?”

Shit. Shit. Fuck, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK.

Seth swung around, seeing that Cesar was standing in the kitchen, in front of the back door. Seth immediately jogged towards him, nearly hyperventilating. “Get the fuck out of here.”

“Wha—”

“Get back to the van, NOW.” Seth commanded, not even letting Cesar question him.

“But w-what about Sarah?” Cesar asked. The question made Seth visibly freeze before he turned around, seeing that Sarah wasn’t there. How the fuck did he not notice?

Sarah stepped towards the door leading to Mark’s bedroom, noticing the stains on the wooden floor underneath her. She hesitantly reached for the doorknob, her fingers brushing against the ice cold metal, before she began to turn it—

“Sarah!”

She was interrupted by the sound of Seth yelling for her downstairs, causing her to pull her hand away from the door. She glanced at the door, thinking for a second before ultimately deciding to go back downstairs to see what was going on. As she ran down the stairs, she failed to notice the door open behind her.

“What’s going—” She couldn’t even finish her question before she felt Seth grab the back of her hoodie and push her towards the door, his other hand clasped on his shotgun.

“Get back to the van, both of you.” Seth demanded, pushing the two out of the house. As they hurried around the home, Sarah turned around, staring Seth in the eye.

“What the hell is going on?!” She asked. “You’re freaking us out—”

“Listen, we need to get out of here, I…I can feel it.” Seth stated, his voice noticeably shaking. It was the most freaked out Sarah had ever seen him.

“But I still haven’t found anything.” Sarah said.

“M-Maybe he’s right,” Cesar chimed in. “I don’t feel good about this either.”

“No, it’s not just that, it’s…” Seth attempted to get his thoughts in order. “It’s something more than that, like—”

“Seth, please, we can’t do this now,” Sarah interrupted. “I’m so fucking close, I can feel it!”

“I’m trying to keep you safe—”

“You keep saying that!” Sarah bordered on yelling, trying to hold back her tears. “I need this, Seth. I need to know, and this is the only way I can; I need to help Mark!”

“CAN WE FUCKING LEAVE?!” Cesar shouted, startling both Sarah and Seth. They stared at him, seeing that he was crying, but also looking completely pissed off. “I’m tired of this! Mark’s dead! That’s it! There’s no fucking point to being here anymore!”

“Cesar, what the fuck are you—” Sarah started.

“NO!” Cesar glared at her. “Enough arguing, enough searching, enough fucking self-pity; CAN WE JUST GO HOME?!”

Sarah and Seth were stuck in a stunned silence, staring at Cesar, who was beginning to sob to himself. Sarah felt her eyes sting, and seeing Cesar trembling made her feel even worse. She glanced at Seth, who was almost glaring at her, though he didn’t seem necessarily angry; more…concerned.

“I…Ces…” Sarah looked back at Cesar. “I’m…I’m sorry—”

The sound of four bangs coming from the front of the house interrupted her apology, causing the trio to snap their attention towards the noise. Seth glanced back at Sarah and Cesar, gesturing them to follow him as he raised his firearm. Cesar also grasped his pistol tighter as he followed close behind Seth, with Sarah by his side. When they made it back to the van, they could see the culprit of the noise; all four tires had been blown out.

Seth stared at the ruined tires, his gaze intense and his breathing beginning to quicken. Cesar stared at the tires before looking back towards the house, freezing as soon as his eyes caught something.

“Who…why would someone do this?” Sarah asked.

“I don’t know…” Seth stated, trying to keep his breath steady despite the tightness in his chest.

“Should we walk then?”

“It’ll take too long to get back…hitchhiking’s too risky…” As Seth thought aloud, Sarah looked back at Cesar, seeing that he was completely motionless aside from his shaking hands. His wide, watering eyes were fixed on the house, looking up at something.

“…Cesar?” Sarah asked, lightly tapping his shoulder. No response. “Seth, Cesar’s not…” She trailed off when she finally looked at Cesar was focused on. She too became silent, covering her mouth as she couldn’t help but cry. She didn’t even want to believe what she was seeing.

It looked like Mark; but it wasn’t him.

Mark’s nearly white sweatshirt had turned a dingy grey from years of use, covered in blood and grime. There was a hole in the sweatshirt and black undershirt in his shoulder, the hole stained with red. His dull pink sweatpants covered his legs, along with grey socks, both of which having mud and dirt covering them. His messy, long brown hair swayed in the wind, his one, bloodshot eye fixed on Cesar, burning with hate. The entire right side of his face was a cracked hole, leading to a dark void, with only his lower jaw and teeth visible. Blood streamed down the holes in his face, along with his eye, almost like he was eternally crying. It looked only vaguely like the Mark they knew, while also nothing but a husk of his former self; a hollow being desperately hanging on to its past.

As soon as Seth saw Mark, he swung his shotgun up, preparing to fire before Mark snapped his gaze towards him. Seth felt himself be pushed back, slamming against the ground hard with a thud. His gun clattered against the asphalt, sliding to the middle of the street. Sarah was temporarily snapped out of her shock by the sound of Seth grunting from the sudden pain spike in his back. Sarah hastily approached Seth, crouching down quickly before helping him get up.

Seth looked straight past Sarah, his eyes widening before he scrambled to his feet. “CESAR, GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!” He shouted, seeing that Cesar was still standing still in front of Mark.

The plead didn’t seem to do anything; Cesar was still stuck in place, paralyzed by his own fear. Mark looked to the side, seeing a small piece of rebar resting on the ground next to a tree before he raised his hand towards it. The pole immediately started to hover in the air, Mark staring at Cesar before the post turned directly towards the frozen man, being flung towards him as quick as an arrow. Cesar was barely able to respond before he felt himself being pushed over by something.

“GO!”

Cesar fell to the ground, finally snapping out of his trance. His breathing was heavy as he stared at the dead grass below him. He could hear Sarah crying, along with pained yells behind him. Cesar turned around, his eyes widening when he saw where the noises were coming from. Seth was hunched over, grasping the piece of rebar buried in his shoulder, the blood pouring out from between his fingers. He was bleeding heavily, Sarah staring at him with horror in her eyes. Seth just saved Cesar’s fucking life.

“JUST LET HIM DIE ALREADY!” Mark shouted, his many discordant voices burying themselves in the ears of all that heard it.

Cesar stumbled to his feet, immediately backing away as he regained his bearings. He looked towards Seth before glaring at Mark, swallowing the lump in his throat before he spoke. “WHAT DO YOU WANT?!” Cesar questioned.

“YOU…You didn’t do anything, didn’t answer any of my cries for help!” Mark yelled, blood pouring down from his “face.” “I thought you were my fucking FRIEND! YOU’RE THE REASON I’M DEAD!”

Cesar pushed back the urge to cry before responding. “I NEVER DID ANYTHING—”

“BULLSHIT!” Mark’s voice almost shook the entirety of Mandela to its core, causing the streetlights to flicker and some to even explode. “YOU NEVER GAVE A SHIT ABOUT ME, DID YOU?!”

“MARK, I DID!” Cesar cried. “I FUCKING CARED ABOUT YOU! I THOUGHT OF YOU LIKE A BROTHER!”

“YOU’RE NOTHING BUT A FUCKING LIAR!” Mark screamed, not only blood, but actual tears running down his cheeks. “I WAS NOTHING BUT A PROP! I MADE YOU LOOK BETTER! You wanted everyone to see…look! I can befriend even the stupid, lonely, ANGRY, LOSER OF A KID!”

Cesar felt as if the words were stabbing him directly in the heart. He had no way of telling him how much he cared; how much he valued Mark’s friendship ever since middle school. It was too late to reconcile, as the damage had already been done. Cesar just wished that he saw it sooner.

“Mark, listen to yourself!”

Cesar turned to see Sarah staring up at Mark with fury in her eyes. Seth seemed to visibly struggle more when he saw what Sarah was doing, begging with his eyes for her to back down. He tried to grab her jacket, though she was already out of reach, and every movement only made the sharp pain in his shoulder spike.

“We all cared about you!” Sarah claimed, her hands curled into fists. “I loved you! Cesar loved you! We all loved you; why won’t you just listen to us?!”

“You left me to die…you never came for me.” Mark stated. “I was left to DIE, BY EVERYONE IN THIS GOD DAMNED COUNTY! NONE OF YOU HELPED ME WHILE I WAS STUCK IN ONE FUCKING ROOM FOR DAYS! I…I DIED BECAUSE YOU WERE A BUNCH OF FUCKING COWARDS!”

“THAT’S BULLSHIT!” Sarah shouted through the tears, not noticing that Mark was staring at a rock behind her, making it rise into the air. “I LOVED YOU MARK, I JUST WISH YOU ACTUALLY ACTED LIKE HI—”

A loud crack. Seth could barely process the sound before he felt something splatter against his face, bringing his hand up to his face and wiping it off, staring at the small streaks of red on his fingers. Sarah immediately fell to the ground as a now red-stained rock fell to her side. She twitched, convulsing on the front yard in silence, blood pouring from the large gash in the back of her skull.

“S-Sarah…SARAH!” Seth cried, possibly for the first time in a very long time. He took in a few deep breaths before ripping the pole out of his shoulder, yelling in pain before throwing it to the side and covering the wound with his hand. He scrambled to Sarah’s body, turning it over onto her back. Her eyes were cloudy; unresponsive. “Sarah…” Seth sobbed as Cesar quickly fell to his knees by her side. Seth buried his face in her shoulder, grasping her rapidly cooling hand as he cried. “Oh god…Sarah…I’m sorry…”

Cesar grimaced, tears running down his face before he looked back at Mark. He killed her; his own sister was dead, murdered in cold blood. Cesar pushed himself to his feet, swinging his pistol towards Mark, finally feeling unafraid for the first time in forever. It wasn’t the friend he used to know anymore, and as he aimed for the head, Cesar pulled the trigger.

Click.

The gun wasn’t loaded.

Cesar looked back up at Mark with horror, seeing the rage building in his eye. He dropped the pistol before stumbling backwards, feeling dread building in his heart before he turned and ran. Seth watched him run, seeing his shotgun in the middle of the street.

“YOU COWARD!” Mark shouted, following Cesar from the air.

Seth looked down at Sarah’s lifeless body one last time, taking in a deep breath before reluctantly letting her go, ignoring the searing pain in his shoulder as he ran onto the street, grabbing the shotgun as soon as he reached it.

Cesar refused to look back, though he could see the streetlights rapidly flickering and the light bulbs exploding behind him. He could feel his lungs burning from hyperventilating, and his legs hurt like hell, but he couldn’t stop running. Mark was screaming loud enough to make Cesar’s ears ring, his pure rage being heard throughout the entire town. If Cesar stopped moving, he was dead, and Cesar didn’t want to find out what being killed by a former best friend was like.

Cesar glanced to the side, seeing that one of the streetlights was beginning to bend to the side from the middle before falling off of its base. Cesar put his arms over his head, using one burst of energy to sprint out of the way before it slammed against the asphalt, the light shattering and the metal bending in nearly impossible ways. Mark looked over to the side of the road, seeing a rusty stop sign. He raised his hand towards it, ripping it out of the ground while also snapping the sign off of its post. He glared back at Cesar before throwing the post towards him. Cesar leapt to the side, though not soon enough.

The post grazed his leg, leaving a large gash right before his knee. Cesar yelled, falling to the ground on his stomach. He grasped the rapidly bleeding wound in his leg before turning around, laying on his back as he stared at the injury. His entire body screamed out, sore from running and his throat raw from screaming.

Cesar looked up, tears streaming down his face as he attempted to crawl backwards, staring up at Mark as he lowered himself to the ground. Mark walked towards Cesar, ignoring the sharp pain in his legs with every step as he glared at the man in front of him. “You’ve ruined…everything.” Mark stated, his voice almost sounding like the Mark Cesar once knew. “I trusted you…I cared about you, yet you leave me in the dust the second you’re able to.”

“Mark…I…I’m sorry…” Cesar mumbled. “I…I didn’t…mean to.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Mark growled. “It’s over now. It’s all over.” Mark raised his hand towards Cesar, whose wide petrified eyes were fixed on Mark’s missing face. “I’m sorry it had to come to this.” Mark muttered under his breath.

“HEY, SHITHEAD!”

Mark swung around, seeing Seth standing in the middle of the street behind him, gun trained on him. Mark barely had time to react before Seth pulled the trigger, a loud boom echoing as Mark’s arm shattered, the lower half of it breaking off and slamming against the ground. Mark let out a loud, pained screech, staring at the shattered, hollow remains of his left arm and the tattered cloth around it. Seth cocked the gun before shooting once again, this time at Mark’s right leg. His shin exploded into shards as Mark fell to the ground, his skin cracking as blood poured from the holes in his body.

Mark yelled as Seth grew closer, his gun pointed at Mark’s head, silent tears running down his cheeks. Mark looked up at the tall man in front of him, his one bloodshot eye fixed on the stranger.

“…You…you’re too late.” Mark growled, whispers and quiet laughter accompanying his voice. “You brought them here. You’re the reason this happened. You…you didn’t have to be a part of this.”

Seth’s nose twitched, and his eyes widened slightly. He swallowed hard, attempting to keep his breath steady, all before his brows furrowed and he grimaced. “Fuck you.”

Seth pulled the trigger, but nothing happened. He stared at the gun with surprise, trying to fix the sudden jam before he looked back at Mark, whose one eye was squinted and staring at the gun’s barrel. He then floated onto his one remaining foot before flying up into the dark sky, out of view. Seth looked up to where he went, clenching his jaw. “YOU BASTARD!” Seth shouted into the night air.

Seth turned back to Cesar, his expression turning from anger to worry as he dropped his shotgun. He rushed to Cesar’s side, grabbing his hand and helping him sit up. “You’re okay…you’re gonna be alright, can you walk?” Seth questioned.

“I…I can’t…” Cesar exhaled, staring at the large wound in his leg.

“Cesar, don’t look at it,” Seth gestured for Cesar to stare him in the eyes. “Look at me…I’m…I’m gonna get you out of here.” Seth wrapped Cesar’s arm over his shoulders, supporting him with his arm as they stood up. Cesar winced as he put some pressure on his leg, slowly limping by Seth’s side.

“Wh…What about Sarah?”

The question made Seth’s breath hitch, but nevertheless he continued walking. “You’re going to be alright, just…just trust me.” Seth didn’t want to tell Cesar Sarah would be alright, as it was a complete fucking lie. Sarah was dead, and Cesar didn’t need to be reminded of that at that moment. All Seth wanted to do was get Cesar out of that hellhole. Mourning is for later.

As they walked towards the gate, Cesar yelled out, hunching over slightly, causing Seth to turn his head towards him in worry. “Are you alright?” Seth questioned.

“I…I don’t know…” Cesar said with a grimace. “I don’t feel good…I…I feel sick.”

Blood loss, Seth presumed. “Shit…you’re gonna be fine, the hospital isn’t that far away.” Seth assured, covering up his uncertainty. “Y-You’re gonna get help, alright?”

Cesar looked up at Seth’s face. “I…I don’t know what’s—” Cesar’s statement was interrupted by him yelling again, falling to the ground as Seth watched.

“Cesar!” Seth crouched down beside him, seeing that he was staring at the ground, his face partially covered by his hair. “Cesar, what’s going on, are you alright?! I…I can carry you to the hospital if you can’t walk—”

“Mm.”

“What?”

“MMMH.”

Cesar raised his hands towards his face, beginning to shake uncontrollably as his hands began to claw at his face. Suppressed screams were heard from him as he shook and cried, though Seth couldn’t see what was happening. “Cesar, what’s going—”

Cesar looked up, tears running from his eyes as he scratched at the area near his mouth. Seth’s eyes widened as he finally saw what was wrong; Cesar’s mouth was completely missing, healed over like a scar. Thin red lines covered the new skin as Cesar scratched it raw, all in a desperate attempt to be able to speak again.

“…Oh god.” Seth muttered. Cesar held his hands up to Seth, who helped him get up on his feet. Cesar’s trembling hands were clutched on Seth’s bloody hoodie, trying to hold himself closer to him. His muffled screams for help only became worse as his hands began to shake even harder, his fingers turning a charcoal black. His fingers fell apart as he stumbled away from Seth, who was frozen in both confusion and horror. Cesar watched helplessly as the skin and bones in his hands broke apart, leaving nothing but part of his forearm bones visible as he desperately tried to shriek for help.

Cesar was sobbing, unable to let out a single anguished yell as he fell into Seth’s arms, shaking as if he was suffering from hypothermia. His nose was barely visible anymore, the nostrils being completely missing and it being nothing but a small bump on his face. His wide, bloodshot eyes stared up at Seth, as if he was pleading for him to do something, ANYTHING to save him from his fate, whether he was able to do so or not. “Cesar…” Seth cried, his mind going too fast to be able to come up with anything he could do. “Cesar, PLEASE…” Seth watched helplessly as even Cesar’s gaze was torn away from him, as his eyes shut, healing over and leaving nothing but blank eye sockets in their place.

Cesar’s screams were unable to be heard, and his entire face was missing. Seth stared at the blank, emotionless face that used to be his closest friend. He was gone; the man Seth dared to get close to was gone. Cesar fell to his knees, holding his arm nubs up to his “face” as he desperately wanted to be able to breathe and see again. There was nothing he could do however, and soon enough, he could no longer hear Seth’s desperate cries for him to stay as even his hearing was taken away from him.

Seth tried to grab Cesar’s shoulder, though as soon as he made contact, Cesar appeared to panic, letting out more horrid muffled screams, slamming his forearm against Seth’s hand to push it away. He sprung up to his feet and ran the opposite direction. He slammed against the gate, stumbling backwards before pushing it open and running down the road, disoriented and stumbling around as if he could barely hold himself up. Seth watched as Cesar disappeared from view, his eyes wide and his expression blank.

Seth took a few steps forward, pushing open the gate and looking down the road, seeing that Cesar was already gone from sight. He continued to step forward, tripping over his own feet before collapsing to his knees, with his head hung low in defeat. He didn’t know what to think anymore. Sarah was gone, and Cesar…oh god, Cesar; left wandering aimlessly, sightless, deaf, mute, and scared for god knows how long. Seth had nothing left. His son was gone…all because of him. Mark was right; he brought them to their death.

Seth stared at the ground, emotionless, feeling like a husk of his former self. His shoulder stung and every joint in his body was sore, but he no longer cared. He was empty without them; nothing more than a stupid man with a criminal record and a lifetime of regret. How dare he think he could make friends? How stupid was he? Sarah and Cesar didn’t deserve this…they didn’t deserve any of it, and the one man that did was the only one alive and human. He should’ve taken their place. He should’ve been the one to die, not them. It was all his fault.

“How…pathetic.”

No.

No, god, please not now.

Seth didn’t even need to see who was talking to recognize the voice, his fears only being confirmed by the sight of slender, fingerless gloved covered hands pressing against the ground next to him, connected to mangled, impossibly long arms.

“How poetic.” Adam stated, leaning down so Seth could see his wide smile from his peripheral vision. “Your story starts with you losing your family…and ends with the same thing.”

Seth didn’t respond or even flinch, only slowly turning away when Adam pushed his face closer. “Well…Mark sure can hold a grudge, huh?” Adam chuckled. “Cesar…doomed to a life of darkness and silence for all eternity, I mean, how petty can you get?”

Seth remained silent.

“…Come on, Seth.” Adam said. “…You don’t have to be so grumpy.”

“Leave.” Seth grumbled.

Adam smiled wider when he heard Seth’s broken tone. “…Hey…I’m your friend you know. And you know what? I have an idea that may help you out.” Adam stated. “And all it takes is one simple step.”

Adam reached for the pistol in Seth’s holster, pulling it out before holding it in front of Seth’s face. “…It’s loaded, isn’t it?” Adam asked.

Seth didn’t respond, his empty eyes staring at the gun in front of him.

“Everything gone…in the blink of an eye.” Adam continued. “Your friends…your family…your sanity. Cesar was like your son. You’re the reason they’re in the state they’re in now…they hate you…but I have the solution.”

Adam held the barrel of the pistol, nudging Seth with the handle. “All it takes…is one bullet.” Adam whispered in Seth’s ear, his smile widening further than what should be possible. “And everything…will fade away.”

Seth’s twitching hand grabbed the gun, staring at it as his fingers ran across the metal. Adam placed one of his hands on Seth’s shoulder, his smile becoming more crazed as Seth gripped the handle and pointed the barrel of the gun up. Seth smiled, his smile lopsided and wide as he stood still. Silence fell for a moment as the barrel was pointed into Seth’s chin, until he jerked it to the side and fired.

Adam’s head flung back as the bullet pierced his jaw and out through the top of his head. Adam screamed before stumbling back and falling to the ground, his hands grasping his head as Seth slowly stood up, ignoring the cracks from his knees. Seth turned towards Adam, seeing that his eyes were wide, his dilated pupils focused on him. Seth swung his gun up, firing into Adam’s head, neck, and chest. The series of shots echoed throughout the street until it ran out of bullets. Seth pulled the trigger multiple times before he processed that it was empty and stopped. He slowly lowered his gun, trembling slightly as he stared at Adam’s unmoving body.

“…If you were smart…” Seth muttered. “You’d stay dead.”

Seth put the gun back into his holster before unzipping his jacket, slipping it off as he looked at the wound in his shoulder. It was bleeding steadily from the hole, and needed to be disinfected as soon as possible. Seth held up his hoodie, seeing the now bloodied letters “BPS” written on the front, which was interrupted by a large tear in the fabric. Seth dropped the now meaningless hoodie, leaving it behind as he limped past Adam’s body and further into town.

He wasn’t sure when or where he’d see Mark again, or when he’d start to feel the mental anguish that was surely going to hit him like a freight train, but at that moment he didn’t care. He didn’t even think of anything; unsure of how he would get home. Though he supposed it wouldn’t matter, as the thought of going home alone and seeing an empty house made him sick. All he could think was what he would do when he saw Mark’s hollow face again.

All he knew is that when he saw that bastard again, he would regret letting Seth walk away alive.

[front-facing-pokemon]

[eldritch-nightmare]

some updates uhm. i finished up cody's valentine's day prompt!! i haven't started on bo's or carmina's but hopefully i cant get started on one of them tomorrow if the universe will permit it.

[prettyboykatsuki]

objects in the mirror | j. togame

✮ tags ; afab!reader + fem!reader, reader is so painfully dense / naive, ambiguous relationships, friends to ???, somewhat unrelieved sexual tension, sex toys, guided masturbation kinda, kissing, groping, nipples play, squirting, dialogue heavy, vaguely post canon, petnames (kame-chan and jo-chan for togame, baby for reader) 18+

✮ wc ; 6.4k (you have got to be fucking with me)

✮ a/n ; the one fic i wont be mad if you ask for part two on lolol. title from a mac miller song (my favorite mac miller song) that reminds me of a lot of characters but i felt really fit this fic.

go listen to it. his best track. also this like... mega got away from me. togame sorry for blueballing you.

✮ synopsis ; your only goal is to have a half-way decent orgasm. togame, as your best friend, is determined to help you reach it.

"So," Togame leans back into your bed. "You bought a vibrator and... can't use it? Because you keep psyching yourself out?"

"Yeah," You sigh with your head hung low. "Paid good money for it and it's collecting dust in my drawer. I'm miserable."

Togame smiles a little from where he's laid across the width of your bed, back propped up against the wall slightly with his legs hanging off one edge. You kick his side lightly as he fails to contain his amusement.

"Do you enjoy seeing me suffer, huh? You take amusement in my pain, you bastard?"

"Pfft," He snickers, turning a little to face you better. "It's kinda hard not too. Just seems..."

"You think it's stupid," You frown. He scratches his jaw.

"I wouldn't say that. A little silly but—"

"Which is another word for stupid," You point out. He shakes his head.

"The connotations different. Stupid would mean I'm insulting you. I don't think it's stupid. Ridiculous, maybe." And then he laughs to himself like a jackass. "No... I take it back. It's definitely ridiculous."

"You asshole. I should kick you out of my house."

He smiles knowingly, lazy and bemused. "You're not gonna,"

Smug bastard. You groan in defeat. "But I should."

He doesn't reply, brushing you off as easy as ever. "Sorry. Just not sure what exactly you want me to do with that information."

You throw your hands up in the air. "I dunno? Fucking help me. Offer solutions. Use whats left of your brain after getting the shit beat out of you as a teenager. Something."

"Now who's being an asshole." He quips. You frown.

"I'm sorry," You say easily. Togame smiles softly though you miss it while you're looking away. "But...ugh."

"Got such a way with words." He hums sarcastically before sobering a touch. He's scrolling through his phone not entirely paying attenion. "I don't really get why you're askin' me. Don't you have better candidates for this conversation?"

You give him a long-suffering look. "No. Unfortunately I live here, so the answer is not really. I can't talk to Kotoha or Tsubaki about this. We talk about guys and stuff but it's usually pretty PG."

"So I'm your stand in for a girl best friend?"

You tilt your head. "Huh? No. You're just my best friend. I would bitch to you about this either way."

He stares at you for a long while before scrubbing a hand down his face. You can't understand his sudden reaction, watching in confusion as he takes a deep breath.

"Right. Right, I'm your best friend." Togame mutters mostly to himself, sighing before going back to his usual demeanor. He rubs his under his eye. "Really dunno what you're asking for. You can whine however much you want, though."

"I'm not whining," You pause before sighing again. "Okay. Maybe I am whining, like, a little. But you would too if you were me, okay? I want to..." You make a face, the words suddenly feeling clumsy on your lips. You're not even doing anything and you're getting all weird about it. "I just wanna...cum."

Togame pauses. He sits up, sort of suddenly after that and finally has the decency to take off his boots. He scoots to the edge of the bed with his feet on the floor to do it, and you can't see his face when he speaks again. You don't think twice about it.

"Have you not? Like... ever?"

"Huh? No, I have but it's not really satisfying. It doesn't scratch the itch for me, you know? That's what the toy was for."

Togame takes another minute or two of silence as he takes off his boots. You wonder if it always takes him so long to take them off. Seems inconvenient.

He goes back to laying down, leaning on the wall with his legs spread out. "What kinda toy is it anyway?

"Oh, it's—" You stop in the middle of your sentence, brow furrowing. "Wait. Should I be telling you this?"

"Are you suddenly gaining self-awareness? Little late for that." He smiles.

"That's true," You reply, relaxing again with your arms crossed. "Nothing complicated. A rabbit vibrator, but the kinda expensive ones."

"How much?"

"Twelve-thousand yen. I got it on sale too,"

"No wonder you're so peeved you can't use it," Togame comments evenly. "A lot of money to be collecting dust. You even take it out the box?"

You deflate all over again. "Yeah. Charged it. Cleaned it too. But I put it back."

"Lemme see,"

"Huh? Oh, okay. Sure."

You don't bother asking why Togame wants to see your sex toy. It doesn't occur to you that there'd be any reasons outside of plain curiosity which you can understand. Togame dated a girl long-term so he knows some things, but you figure any girl with a decent boyfriend wouldn't need to make the same use of toys as you do. It'd make sense he's never seen one up close and personal.

You scoot to the edge of the bed and lean slightly as you open the side drawer and pull the toy out where it sits in nice, cardboard package. You pass it off to Togame before sitting back comfortably against your headboard.

He sits the box in his lap and stares at it for a long while.

You wonder if this is weird.

It doesn't bother you much either way, but it it is...

Odd, just how long Togame stares at it. He undoes the top of the folded box, pulling it back to reveal the soft, baby blue vibrator. It's six inches long and curved, with a soft rubber attachment to stimulate your clit and angle for your g-spot at the same time. Made with a high quality velveteen silicone. It has a lot of settings, and does the sort of rumbly vibrations you know feel good as opposed to the mechanical buzz of cheaper kinds.

Completely unused, Togame holds in his hands for a while, grabbing it by the ends. He doesn't touch it in a way that's weird. More like he assesses it. Measures it. You don't know for what though.

"It's cute."

"Huh?"

"The vibrator, I mean." Togame comments, putting it back in the box. His expression is unreadable. Something simmers under the surface of his neutral face but you can't place what exactly. "It's a cute color and the little pointed part here is cute."

You place a hand on your chest and close your eyes in sincerity. "Thank you. I also think I have excellent aesthetic taste."

Another pause. Brief but not.

"Do you want help using it?"

"Wha—"

"The vibrator," Togame clarifies before you get through the rest of your sentence. "Do you want me to help you use it?"

Your mind blanks. Your mouth moves faster than you can.

"...In what way?"

Togame remains steady. "Getting you comfortable and putting in you. As far as solutions go, it's the best I've got."

...Huh?

"Wouldn't that be awkward for you?"

"Is it awkward for you?" Togame replies back.

You stop to consider the question then shake your head.

"I mean...It's you. I trust you and I'm grateful but this..." You furrow your brow and look towards him. "Can you really do something like that with me? Just to help me?"

"Yeah." He replies. The words come so easily to him you're startled. Was he always this casual? You guess in a way but still. It's surprising. "It's the most direct route to solve your problem, I think. Once you've done it once with someone else, you'll definitely be able to do it alone right?"

You reason about this and find it's a somewhat optimal solution. You can't figure out the exact source of your unease about all of it, though it's there. You can't figure out Togame either. You appreciate how much he seems to want to help you but it doesn't make your worries go away.

You frown a little deeper.

"You're thinking about it too hard." Togame interjects. His tone is warm and easy.

"You're not thinking about it hard enough," You respond back. "What are you trying to do anyway? To help."

"Scratch the itch for you. Just think of it like that."

"Does that do anything for you?"

He dodges the question. "Don't worry about me. I'm offering. Promise it's fine."

You frown with your legs crossed, staring at the empty space of the bed. "...I g-guess it's fine? I can't think of a reason to say no."

"You don't mind doing this with me? Or is it because you're okay with anyone?"

You shake your head.

"What are you saying? Of course it's because you're the one asking. I trust you."

He smiles genuinely at that, eyes closed in what seems like relief. "I just wanted to make sure."

Togame opens his eyes again and casts them your way. Your breathing feels shallow under the weighted glance. He sits up a little more and shrugs his jacket off his shoulders, placing it on the pillow next to you. He feels broader without the layer of fabric over his torso, white shirt stretching over his frame as he sits on the bed on his knees.

"Lay down. Get comfortable."

You nod, adjusting the pillows and things and trying not to feel self-conscious or get cold feet. It speaks to your desperation that you're taking this help so willingly and from your long time best friend no less. In the back of your head, you do feel a little strange.

Togame is just being a good friend, that's what you tell yourself. You believe it too.

He hovers above you first. You tilt your head to look at him, the short gap of space between you feeling particularly small while also being miles wide. Your stomach flutters as Togame's eyes fix on your lips.

He leans forward and presses his mouth to yours. It's chaste. You wonder if you look even half as surprised as you feel.

"What was that for?"

"Breaking the ice."

You mumble. "Oh..."

Togame kisses you again that time, and then one more time before speaking up. "You're so naive."

"Huh? No I'm not,"

He brushes you off again that time before sitting up again. He sits between your legs where you have them spread. You have no idea what he's thinking or why he's doing this.

Unlike most people, you usually do have a good read on what Togame is feeling. He's upfront most of the time, despite his posturing seeming wishy-washy. It's a little weird to feel so out of bounds around him, like he purposely has his guard up. You wonder if that guard is for you, or for him. Is he uncomfortable somehow? Is he trying not to hurt your feelings by not being interested? You're not really expecting that.

But if that were the case, there's no reason he would help you this way.

Before you get too entranced in your thoughts, Togame snaps you out of them.

"How do you normally do this?"

You blink and look up.

"Do what?"

"Get off," Togame answers. Your eyes meet and you find yourself wanting to look away. "You said it was unsatisfying so I thought it'd be better if we started there,"

"Uhm," You feel embarrassed trying to talk about this. You're not sure why. It's not something you'd feel self-conscious outside this specific context but Togame just seems more... intense then usual. Like he's being serious about your silly problem. "D-depends? Sometimes I watch porn or listen to audios or read. Not always."

"Got it. How do you touch yourself then?"

He looks expectant. You turn your head to look away from him. The minutes tick by.

"Uhm... just rubbing my c-clit usually. I have uhm, other toys I'll use sometimes too but I need to touch my clit to get off." You wonder if these are too many details. Togame is listening to it so carefully. "Uhm. If i-its too sensitive I'll touch over my clothes too. Sometimes I cum like that."

His face shifts. It lingers long enough for you to notice but not enough for you to process what it was. He's back to his usual self so quickly you wonder if you've made the entire thing up.

"Right. I think I know what your problem is,"

You feel a little relieved at that. "Really?"

He pauses before smiling a little with a friendly nod that reminds you of how you were when you were kids, a face that's unexpectedly kind. "Really."

You look at him expectantly.

"I think you're not building up to it enough." Togame comments, smoothly. You blink at him. "You're a girl, you know? Can't jump straight into it, you need to stimulate yourself more first and relax. You're so focused on cumming it backfires. I'll help you."

"How...?"

"I'll help you relax and help you figure out what you like. Don't think about it too hard and focus on feeling good."

"You really don't have to do this for me," You mumble. He smiles at you.

"C'mon. You just said I was your best friend right? I don't mind, so chill out and let me help."

"Okay," You nod, bright eyed. "Okay....thank you."

He makes a face at you before nodding. "Uh-huh. Of course."

Togame hovers above you with lazy smile. You close your eyes on instinct as you feel your lips press together. His lips are softer than you thought they'd be. A hand cups the back of your neck and brings you closer to him. The weight of his body makes you self-conscious about his proximity. You can smell the scent of his skin, feel his presence surround you as he kisses you soft to start.

The shift in the air surrounding you is gradual in a way that reminds you so much of Togame. He's not intense at the beginning, never is really is - but then his hand goes to hold your knees and pull your legs up. His tongue slips against the closed seam of your lips until they part, until he touches yours and you have to reconfigure how you breathe. He's so good at kissing you it makes you wonder if he's kissed you before and you can't remember. But then it feels good and you're reminded—

If it felt this good there's no way you would've forgotten it.

When you pull away for air to breathe, or start to stumble through a question on how this is helping - Togame shuts you up. It takes it happening twice for you realize it's deliberate. Every time he kisses you a little deeper, and the last time he slips his tongue in so far you'd think he's trying to eat you whole.

You're wet. You're unsure if you're allowed to feel guilty about it, or if you're even meant too. Anyone would be turned on getting kissed like this. You're really unsure about all of this but you're fine because it's Togame. There's no way he'd do anything bad to you or for you.

He's over protective in general, though he's rarely frank about it.

(If you were any less clueless, you'd would know that most times Togame is doing his best to protect from himself. Most times, he feels like the biggest danger to you)

Togame pulls away from your lips when you moan a little. You feel embarrassed at the state your left in and how he looks at you. Picking you apart in his mind but not with ill intent. Like he wants to know every thread of your want.

Again, you think he's going to tease you. Light but still teasing.

"Does that feel good?"

It's a serious question. It stuns you. Just a little. His hand on the back of neck feels hot. You notice the way his thumb caresses your nape and try not to stutter.

"Uh..y-yeah." You reply, trying not to look stupid. "I like kissing. Uhm. In general."

He doesn't react to that, nods in a way you find curt in comparison to how passionately he was kissing you just moments ago. "It'll help you relax." And then, a little softly. "If you want to kiss again and we're not already, ask."

An odd request but you acquiesce with another soft noise.

"Do you feel a little warmed up?"

His eyes are so strangely shaded in this light. You open your mouth to the awkward confession. "Oh... nn. I'm... y-yeah. I'm wet already."

"From kissing?"

You give him a sheepish look. Togame responds with another kiss that makes you feel like you're being driven into a corner. This one is hot and heavy, doesn't build up but starts with an almost oppressive air. He nips at you, teeth tugging at your lips and licking in earnest to your mouth. Long and deep until your brain feels melty, your thoughts swimming and clouded. Longing for touch and release. Arousal threads through the fibers of your muscles, makes you feel wound up tight - a serpents coil. You clench your thighs on instinct at the worsening wetness.

Your mouth feels swollen and bitten when you pull away again and Togame looks a little more like you're used to him looking. An underlying sense of smug self-satisfactions on his face as he looks down at you, not outweighed by his genuine ease.

A look on his face like he likes your company. You find him comforting in how easy it is to see.

"Is it okay to touch you in other places?"

"Uhm. Anywhere above the belt is fine, I think."

"Makes sense,"

He leans up and slides both hands underneath your hoodie. You're not really prepared for... this. You don't know if you can call it sex or not but whatever it is, you weren't intending for it to happening.

"You're not wearing a shirt," His hands feel so big on your waist. Big and calloused, split skin scarred over from fighting. "A bra?"

"A sports bra."

"Right."

He slides your hoodie up over your torso until it's bare and takes your sports bra along with it in one go. Your tits fall from them with a soft swish with how quick he does it, the light bounce making your skin grown hot. Togame hovers above you as he eyes them, palms just underneath but not touching.

"Stop looking so hard."

He brushes past that. "They're nice."

"Shut up," You say for the first time. Togame smiles slightly.

"Not a nice way to talk to someone who's helping you," He says sarcastically. You pout but refuse to apologize. He remains unbothered then goes back to being alarmingly serious. "Do you play with them?"

"H-huh? When I masturbate? Not really. I've never thought too."

"Why's that?"

You shrug. "The guys I dated used to touch them but it mostly felt weird, not good. Never thought of trying on my own."

He gives you a looking asking for permission. You nod. This really does not feel normal but the arousal clouding your brain is a lot louder than your sense of shame.

Togame's hands slide up your sides until he's cupping the roundness of your chest. His thumbs hover against hardened nipples, constrained in the touch. It's different than how other guys have done it for you. He's paying attention to that bit most, and he's going about it softly. Pushing the hardened bud with a light flick that sends a jolt of shock through your body.

He's quick to notice your reaction, green eyes flickering up before doing it again. You squirm, stretching your legs and shifting as another tick of arousal goes through your whole body. Your clit is starting to throb so much it hurts. If it were you, you would've started touching yourself a long while ago. As soon as you felt yourself get wet.

Togame is taking his time, though. And you're feeling it so much it's a little shameful for you. He does it again, touching your nipples - both side at the same time. Your body is pushing for more.

You've managed to keep the noise down but you're pushed over your usual limits. A moan spills from your lips as you push up into his touch. "That's good, huh? Just needed it a little softer and more focused."

You try not to be any more embarrassing. Wouldn't anyone feel weird over this?

He's the most important person in your entire life, and he's seeing you like this. Not judging you, just remaining even and consistent. Teasing you but not enough to make you upset. He's being so careful. Is this the kind of boyfriend he is? You think that must make him popular, so then... why does it never work out? He's never dated anyone longer than a year.

But he's being so sweet to you despite not dating. He's always kind but this is different. You can't imagine who would see this part of him and break up.

You try not to think about any of this but the only other thing you can focus on is him rubbing your nipples and how nice it feels. The moan of his name is pitchy, sounds foreign to your own ears with how high and broken it is.

"Kame-chan," Your voice is warbly when you ask. You just want to stop thinking. "Kiss?"

He pauses. You think he's going to deny you at first.

"Fuck. That ain't fair, you know?"

You don't know what he means, but he complies and kisses you open mouthed as he plays with your tits. Rubs and flicks them just the way you like. It feels so good. You've never felt anything like it before. Your tummy flutters, honeyed lust dripping down your inner thighs.

Your body moves on it's own, your hands carding through his hair as arousal starts to pool. Your panties feels soaked and sticky, through the fabric. You shift again trying to relieve the feeling, brain scrambled by Togame's touch.

You're so horny you can't make sense of anything. Your body is a relentless echo of your wants and needs - demanding attention. His attention, specifically. Need curls up in your chest.

Between kisses you confess this to Togame, who you trust now more than ever despite feeling so incredibly vulnerable. How could you not go with it when he's taking such good care of you?

"Wanna cum so bad," You mutter, sloppy between kisses. Togame takes in a deep breath as he pulls away.

"You think you're worked up enough for it?"

You see through him instantly even in your haze. "Don't be mean to me, you jerk."

"Caught me, huh? Okay, okay. How do you normally do this?"

"Do what?"

"Fuck yourself with something,."

The words send heat sparking against your spine. You tuck your face against his jacket where it's laying besides you and huff. It smells like him. "Ngh. Usually finger myself a little first."

"Got a good idea then." He hums. The sound of his voice, low and smooth, makes you feel comforted. "I'll lay next to you and help keep you distracted while you open yourself up, yeah? Nothing below the belt 'n all. And when you're already I'll put in for you and turn it on."

You sniff. "Okay."

He smiles at you, pulling his hands and body away from you before laying besides you instead. He lets you rest your head against his arm and shoulders - sneaking the rest of his arm around and underneath you, squeezing one of your tits. He presses your body into him and gropes around the bed for the box with your toy, grabbing it from inside before shoving it away.

Up close, you can feel his muscles even better than you could. You wonder how someone so relaxed could be this built but try not to let it burden your brain. He smells so nice. Did he always? You feel too horny to remember, but you like it.

You can feel him glancing down at you, amused.

"Comfy?" Togame's voice vibrates through your whole body.

"Uh-huh."

"If you turn your head towards me I can kiss you and touch you. Keep your mind occupied a bit."

"Oh. That makes sense."

"It does right? Go ahead and start."

You think you should tell him not to watch. Keeps his eyes for himself. But the focus of his gaze makes you burn so much hotter you don't bother. He's already seen so much, anyway.

You shimmy out of your sweat pants until they're down at your ankles revealing your panties. Baby blue printed boyshorts, fabric soaked until they look a nearly new navy shade. You feel his laughter less than you hear it, turning your head to glare at him. He smiles a little at you.

"Those are cute too," Togame comments. You can hear his voice so clearly like this you think you'll collapse if you pay too much attention to it. "Too bad you made 'em all messy."

You swallow a sound, too horny to protest. He stops you before you can take your panties off.

"Didn't you say you normally touch over the fabric when you're sensitive? Do that."

"But—"

"Just trust me," He promises. He kisses your hair. Your heart thuds when he does it. It's an innocent gesture. "It'll make it more satisfying, okay?"

Your shaky as you spread yourself a little wider and slip your hand down between your legs. All the desire you're holding starts to unwind as your middle finger slides over the soaked seam of your cotton panties. They're cuter than normal, printed with florals and lace trimmed. Absolutely drenched in your arousal. You rub a small circle into your clit and your whole body breaks out into shivers, your eyes fluttering closed at the sensation.

You could cum like this. Just from this. But you want something more, something better so you force yourself to go slow.

"It's messy," Togame hums, nonchalant. "You get easier than I thought you would. Are you going slow so you don't cum right away?"

"Don't point it out, aah,"

"You should cum if you want too," Togame suggests.

"No," You whine. "Wanna cum with the toy."

"Wanna cum with a cock inside you, ya mean? A silicone one but still. Not enough to just touch yourself, you need something more, is that it?"

He says the words so casually, so lightly. Almost friedly despite how filthy they are. There's no malice in them.

Spoken like high praise or affection. The kind you'd show a kitten,.

"Kame—"

"Didn't know your had such a need pussy. No wonder it's hard to cum all by yourself, huh?"

"Stop being mean," You gasp. "I'll cum,"

He laughs at that. It's genuine and bright.

"Too much for ya, huh? S'okay. Take these off now. Finger yourself. Make sure you get all that mess you made so we can use on your toy. It'll hurt if it's dry going in."

You feel blindsided by just how much Togame is talking. He's been so quiet, so brief and unreadable. He feels like his usual self too much, to your complete detriment. His voice is teasing, yet warm and sweet. He smells good and he's pressing you all against his chest. Your fingers tremble as you slide your panties down to your ankles same as before. You end up shimmying the rest of your clothes off.

You're so aroused it's easy to get the first finger in. Your hole twitches, the entrance pleasurable as slowly ease your middle finger down to knuckle. You til your head towards Togame as you get adjusted to the intrusion easily from how wet you are, pouting your lips. He gives into the kiss right away, warm tongue and soft lips familiar to you now. You ease yourself into the pace of his kiss, whimpering into his mouth as you slowly open yourself on second finger.

"I want it so bad," You mumble. He laughs against your mouth.

"I can tell. Can barely string a sentence together. You want to cum huh?"

"Uh-huh."

"What a naughty pussy. You're trembling from just fingering yourself. Won't you cum right away if I put in you at once? I'll have to go slowly," Togame explains. He speaks the filth so naturally. "Take my time so you're stretched nicely and not scared anymore. I'll turn the vibrator on after it's already inside so you can't run away from it. You can cum to your hearts content, then."

"I'm still scared," You admit. You're just so horny you're unsure of what else to do. He leans down to kiss you again, nose brushing against yours intimately.

"Don't be scared. Just focus on stretching so you're not so tight. I'll praise you if you take it in easily."

Your voice gives once you manage to get a third in. Togame doesn't stop kissing you, barely giving you enough air to breathe. He plays with your chest with his free hand, and holds the toy with the other.

A string of spit connects you. Your thighs are aching, body burning hot as you look at him directly.

"Wanna cum," You slur your words, speaking in short sentences. Togame grins a little.

"Take your fingers out and show them to me."

Your stomach flips but you comply with the request. Your face burns from how soaked they are.

"Good. Rub them on the toy now. Get it as sticky as you can."

Your heart is pounding is loud in your ears as you clumsily coat your new toy with your own mess. You watch it gain a fresh shine, baby blue turning reflective as you push it against and between your fingers until all of it's coated as best you can.

"That's it, good. Spread your legs now. Gonna put it in. Want me to kiss you?"

You nod sheepishly and close your eyes. Togame laughs warmly before kissing you again.

Your whole body throbs in anticipation for it. A muscular forearm and hand slip between your legs as you spread yourself open, your feet flat on the bed for easier access. Togame forces his tongue into your open mouth, kissing you wet and hard as he tweaks your nipples. You feel pleasantly suffocated from the pressure before gasping into his mouth.

The swollen silicone head of your toy stretches your pussy more than you thought it would. You've never had a toy with angles so the sensations are all new. You can feel it so well inside of you, you can barely keep your composure long enough to stop moaning as just the tip slides in. Togame swallows each noise from your mouth. His kisses feel almost ferocious now when they were so composed before, free hand cupping your jaw from one side.

He fucks it in slowly, rocking the toy by its handle slowly until you get used to it - giving you moments between to adjust. You can feel it bottom out inside of you, the head pressing so precise on your swollen gspot you could cum from bucking your hips. Your sensitivity is over the top. Every touch and and tease and bump makes your cunt clench and throb.

The blunt end of the rubber attachment presses against your needy little clit. Togame moves the toy a little, fucking you with it slightly again. Barely. It still nearly makes you cum.

You feel like he's edging you. Anymore than this, you think you'll go crazy.

"Kame-chan." Your voice is beyond wrecked, throat as one of your hands reaches to cling desperately to his short sleeves. You fist it, teary. "Jo, turn it on please. Make me cum. Wanna cum so bad, 'm so close, please, please. C'mon."

"Turning it on, baby. Easy."

The word baby makes your body melt.

A slight click sounds as Togame turns on the vibrator.

Your whole body lurches at the sudden change. Togame pins you with his own, keeps his hands steady and the toy inside of you without skipping a beat. The soft whirr of the first setting completely unravels you. It feels like every nerve in your body is being pulled apart, electricity through a frayed copper wire. The muscles in your body aching with anticipation after so many dissatisfying orgasms clench tight as your body prepares itself for something so vast your mind can't process it at all. Your hands fist at your sides, clutching the sheets as you get close to cumming.

You're thrashing from the sensation. It's so much, too much - you've never felt anything like it before. You feel full and euphoric and your head is spinning. It feels so good it terrifies you, makes you clench up hard in how unbearably unrelenting it is. There's no pace, no where to escape from. The vibrations are strong but not overwhelming to the point you can't feel them.

You're so senstive all over your body and it's touching you in two places.

Your spine starts to curl into an arch, hips stuttering and twisting as you feel it rushing over your consciousness. Fuck, you've wanted this for so long. It's exactly the high you've been chasing after on your own for so many months it's making your brain feel like like mush. Animal instinct forces your hips up, bucking against Togame's hand where he holds the toy. You're fucking yourself on it. You can hear him laugh as he moves to meet you ruts.

You feel like you're losing your fucking mind.

"G-gonna—fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! I can't, I can't, I can't. Feels so good, Ican't."

He leans in and gets close to your ear, tongue caressing the lobe before biting it soft.

"Yes you can. You want it so bad don't you? Wanna cum all over this cock so bad you've been aching for it. I know you want it, I can see it. Look how much your moving your hips." His voice is shaking, hands flicking your nipples messy and harsh as he speaks. "Look what a mess you're making. You're leaking everywhere. You want it badly right? Don't think about it and cum. Cum as much as you want. Cum for me,"

The last words are the ones to snap the thread inside of you.

Your brain bluescreens as your body seizes before finally, finally giving you the orgasm you've been chasing. You smash your lips against Togame's as your spine arches off the bed, thrashing in place. Something in you undoes - and you feel a wet rush spray from between your legs at the same time your orgasm hits. Your mind feels completely and utterly blanked. Your body is in total rapture, uncontrollable pleasure fucking your brain until you're stupid and slack jawed. It feels so good, so so good. You didn't know anything could ever feel that good in your life. It's scary.

You feel like you could get addicted. Your high rides out for much longer than ever before. In between sloppy kisses, you say the same words over and over and over. Togame grips you close to him as you do.

"Jo," You mutter. "Thank you, thank you, thank you—feels so fffucking good, fuck. I can't, I can't. Off, off. 's too much, I'll pee."

Instead of turning it off, he turns the vibration up by one. Your eyes fly open as you gasp, words rushed. Panicked.

"I can't," You swear, looking at him for mercy. His face is flushed. "I can't, Jo-chan, I'll cum again, I'll—"

"Cum." He says, demands - voice rougher than you've heard it all night. "I know you can. Cum,"

On demand practically, your legs seize up and you cum again a second time in near succession. You feel so fucking incredible you think you're going to die.

"Fuck!"

You squirt again, body nearly giving out as more short spurts soak your sheets and mattress. Your pussy is pulsing in the after math, trembling and clenching so violently. You whine loudly as Togame stops the vibration and pulls the toy out, shivering as it catches on your tight hole before coming out of it with a soft pop.

Your legs are twitching.

Even though Togame has no more reason to kiss you he does. And even though you're well past the point of needing to kiss him back, you do more affectionately than any time prior.

"You made me feel so good it's freaking me out." You admit, shaking uncontrollably.

Togame pauses before breaking out into genuine laughter. He kisses your head, arm wrapping around your shoulders until you're hugged against him.

"You were so sexy like that."

You blink at him, face flushed.

"Sexy?"

"I was really hard seeing you cum," He says, casually looking down. "I didn't know you could be cute and ask for kisses. You're usually more—"

You put a hand over his mouth.

"Whatever you're gonna say shut up,"

He just smiles, cheek against your hair. "I'm glad you got to feel good."

"What about you?" You mumble, feeling your heart pick up just asking. "Are you still hard? I feel like I should pay you back somehow,"

He looks at you seriously. "Do you know what you're implying?"

You fold a little but nod anyway. "Yeah."

"Do you really? The monk thing is a joke, you know. If you offer something like that, I won't be able to stop."

"It's fine," You say confidently before adding, much quieter. "I r-really want to do... it with you."

Togame pauses before kissing you deeply. Your whole body feels molded to him now.

"Damn it." He looks down at you, black hair sticking to his skin. You wanna feel his undercut with your hands in his hair. "You know this ain't normal between friends, right?"

"Uhm, yeah? I figured."

"Don't go around getting help from anyone."

You shake your head. "It's only 'cause it's you."

He scrubs a hand over his face and laughs. "You don't need to stir me up anymore. I'm already hard enough. Can't keep my composure at all."

You tilt your head in confusion. Togame just sighs.

"Don't worry about it." He says, shaking his head. "How soon can I get my thanks?"

Your eyes widen as you clench again. "Uhm. Now, if you want it."

He grins a little lazy, eyes swimming with adoration.

"I do," He hums, laying back as you get up from where you've been laying. "Come over here and let me touch you properly then."

"Is that what you really want?"

You climb ontop of him, bare naked almost as your hoodie falls back down over your torse. Togame slides the fabric up and gives you a meaningful look.

"More than anything,"

[kenjakusbraincum]

can you pls write something about reader being sick and like not the cough and cold kind of sick- like really really sick, and sukuna realising how much he doesn't want to lose her to this sickness and how if she dies, he'll be alone again..🥺

You have NO idea how much I love this idea!!! I did go a bit overboard with it cause I love suffering though 👍 Still, this was SO much fun to write and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Vows

Sukuna x Reader

Word count: 4.5k

Tags/warnings: gn! reader, true form! sukuna, master/pet dynamic, fluff but most importantly ANGST, mentions of weight loss, mentions of violence, implied nsfw, reader dies in the end :( (sorry)

It's not the first time Sukuna has been made aware of your mortality. He recalls many instances when he's been reminded that you are human. Finite. The first time he wrapped his hand around your throat and squeezed with calculation while you were laying under him, and you looked up at him in fear for your life. Your little hand couldn't even wrap around his wrist, much less provide resistance. Or when he'd pull your hair a little too roughly, and hear a crack in your delicate spine. When you'd get sick, and humbly refuse his healing. So little as a tummy ache had you writhing on your bed.

You are so weak, so small, clinging to life like there was anything for you in it, beyond Sukuna. By all means he hates all of these things. So what witchery is this, and why does he care about you so much? Why does he keep you for years, and why does your company bring him comfort he hasn't ever known in his lifetime?

Still, as much as he cares, he doesn't notice when it starts. He's trained you to tolerate pain, after all. It's no wonder you hesitate to tell him. Little things like tummyaches and colds occur to you all the time anyways, and you never complain. Sure, you've grown closer to Sukuna, but he was still your master, and the rules he instilled in you from the start were always fresh in your mind, not to be crossed. Bothering him with everything that feels off always seemed inappropriate.

And Sukuna is just like that. If you're not screaming or crying, he won't know you're in pain. But he notices that you're acting off. And how he reacts really doesn't help your case, or encourage you to speak up about your condition. ''I don't have all day. What is wrong with you?'', he sneers when he catches you pacing too far behind him.

So you just sleep longer and preserve energy for when you are with him. You don't skip around as much anymore, or spend time doing your hobbies. Food doesn't taste so great anymore. You have a cough that gives you sleepless nights because it just won't calm down. And the time you owe Sukuna starts to feel like an obligation. You start to dread it. Dread slipping up, dread annoying him or failing to satisfy him. Dread being disposable.

When things start getting worse, it's hard to hide it even from him. He was taking you from behind one night, and you were grateful he couldn't see the look on your face. You thought you could do it. Sukuna was always demanding, but he would never force you to do anything. If only you told him before you felt yourself struggling for air, and your chest closing in on itself in tightness. You reached one hand back, frantically grabbing his wrist.

''Feathers, feathers!'', words came out as gasps, and you slumped forward when he let you go. You were panicked and crying by then, this kind of discomfort being foreign even to you, even after weeks of pain behind you. He hovered next to you with a puzzled look on his face. He wasn't even being that rough.

''What's wrong? Tell me.'', he said, and reached his hand to feel the warmth of your tears streaming down your face. He swiped your cheek gently. He didn't seem mad at all. Why didn't you say anything from the start?

''I just feel so sick.'', you muster up in between sobs, and shut your eyes. You were too embarrassed to even look at him.

''I see.''. His hand leaves your face, and he traces it from your neck down your spine. The pain subsided slowly, allowing you to relax and find comfort in his arms.

But the effects of his healing were short lived. Just a week later the feeling of fatigue creeps back into your life. Manageable, but lingering. And the cough persists. And it gets on Sukuna's nerves too. He's been quite patient with you, but his patience was reaching it's limit.

You're sitting by his throne as you often do, and as hard as you try to hold the cough in, you just can't help it. His hand finds the back of your neck and squeezes, turning you to him. And he looks at you with all four, terrifying eyes. ''Can you shut up?''

''I'm sorry, I'm trying -'', you stutter, but just end up coughing more. He doesn't wait for you to stop.

''Get out of here.'', and pushes you away. You stumble down the pile of bones and fall, landing on your hands and knees. You don't remember him being this cruel to you in a long time. You look back at him with teary eyes, and he looks back like the merciless monster he is. The villagers awaiting him moved to make space for your fall, taking note of the tense situation.

That day, Sukuna sends word that he doesn't want to see you until you get better. You're forbidden from going outside again, in fear that that is making your 'cold' worse. It's a lonely week in your room, until Sukuna starts to crave you again. It didn't take him a while, counting the couple days he spent convincing himself he doesn't miss you. He does. So when he sends word for you again, and the servants come back to him saying you're still not feeling well... he's worried. So worried he comes to see it for himself.

Sukuna rarely comes to your room. It's the only space you have for yourself, and he doesn't want to take that away from you. Your room is modest. You have a bed, a carpet, and a couple shelves to house the books he's gifted you. There's a desk where you can eat and read, and a doorway to the garden. There's an empty glass of water and a napkin next to your bed. You're still sleeping, but the door shutting behind him wakes you up, so he doesn't get to enjoy observing you in your natural habitat for long.

It's not the first time doors opening and closing woke you up. But you know this time is different. The servants are always quickly shuffling around the room, cleaning up and moving around. Uraume clanks with plates. There is no noise now, other than your strained breathing and a cough brewing in the back of your throat. Besides, the aura that Sukuna brings with him everywhere he goes is recognizable. Especially to you. Heavy.

You turn around, and meet the gaze of his four eyes. ''Master...'', you struggle to sit up, and even a little action like that has spots forming in your vision. Then a coughing fit hits you. You pick up the napkin and put it to your mouth.

Sukuna sees your whole body strain with the effort of coughing. And when you call him master, even your voice sounds different. He knows your morning voice. He missed hearing it, but this... this is not it. You sit with your head hung low, staring at the napkin between your hands. There's a fresh splatter of blood on it. But Sukuna scares you more than the progression of your illness.

''Are you mad at me?'', you ask timidly, meeting his gaze.

''I'm concerned.", he says and sits next to you. You curl up to make space for him. "Two weeks is a long time for a frail human like you to be sick.", he looks at you, scanning your form up and down.

"I rested and drank every tea Uraume told me to!", your defense mechanism kicks in, and you start babbling.

Sukuna dismisses you with a hand and a pained facial expression. "I know.", he says. His brows are furrowed now, and he's looking at the ground, lost in thought.

You feel guilty for annoying him again. You feel guilty for the whole thing, getting sick, draining the energy it takes him to heal you, robbing him of the time with you that he deserves. Owns. He is very generous with the way he treats you, having all that in mind.

You tug on his sleeve. "I'm sorry, Master... You deserve better.", and you're sobbing again. Sukuna gives you a pathetic look, but smiles as he pulls you into his embrace.

"Silly pet. I can survive a couple weeks without your assistance.", he says, rubbing your shoulder.

You run your fingers against the back of his hand mindlessly, not knowing how to respond. Caressing his knuckles, bones, veins... feeling his nails and their sharp tips against your sensitive skin. When you bring his palm up to your lips, your kiss stains it red with blood.

-

You still sleep with Sukuna sometimes. Less frequently, only on days when you feel well enough, and those are rare. You've lost weight by now, sickness making itself visible on your body. You're sitting on his lap and clinging to your robes, scared that he won't like you as much, that you won't live up to his standards. But Sukuna's demeanor about your illness has changed, as he seemed to sense something unusual about it. He flips you over so gently, like you're made of glass, and peppers kisses from your neck downwards, slowly undressing you as much as you allow him. When he takes you, he's so careful. Constantly checking you're comfortable and enjoying yourself. You feel so loved and relaxed, and pleasure comes so easy when you're in this state. It's not the first time Sukuna is this caring with you in bed, but this time is different. This time you can't help but feel like he's saying goodbye.

He holds you afterwards, tracing his fingers over the ridges of your spine and your shoulders. You were always little in his grasp, but now that he feels your protruding bones under his fingertips, you seem all the more vulnerable.

"Will you kill me?", you ask, breaking the silence.

Sukuna frowns. "Nonsense. Why would I do that?"

There's a gulp in your throat. "It won't be long before I can't even do this. I won't be of any use to you then...", you say.

"Stop.", he says sternly. "There's a lot more to you than what you provide me with in bed."

You smile to yourself, but there's still a hole in your chest. Your statement is still true, and you aren't comforted. But this is Sukuna, and you know that he's offered you quite a lot even with that little bit of reassurance. To your surprise, he speaks again.

"Don't upset yourself. It's been a long time since killing you crossed my mind.", he says. "Save the energy for something else."

You nod and thank him. Just moments later, you're asleep. Quicker than ever before, he notes. You usually love it when he lets you cuddle and talk to him. You would force your eyes open when you were sleepy, just to enjoy it longer.

He feels guilty. He's your master, he's responsible for your well being. Yet nothing he does seems to help you long term. Healing you is temporary and he knows that without accessing the source, it will never work. If he could, he would find what was making you sick and rip it out of you with his bare hands, crush it with the force of his palm. He would have to look deeper, open you, and for once, he thinks he can't open a human being. He thinks of you trashing, screaming, and worst of all, looking into his eyes. Just the thought of you like that makes his chest feel like a gaping cavity. Worst of all, he's sure you would let him. He's sure you would forgive him for spilling your blood, and find comfort in his arms again. If you survived, that is. What has he done to you? And to himself?

Now, your head rests on his chest, and you're snoring lightly. For once, a repetitive noise like that doesn't annoy him. For once, he wishes he could listen to it every night. One day, that noise will be the only thing audibly confirming you're still alive.

-

Months pass and you're only getting worse. You barely leave your room now, too weak to even do so. You eat little, and it's showing in your sunken cheeks and eyes. You feel yourself withering away, loosing color, drying like a dying flower. Sukuna is in grief. He struggles to look at you, and visiting you falls heavy on him every time. He always finds himself thinking afterwards. Regretting that he let himself get this attached, wishing that he could simply forget you. But it doesn't work that way.

He goes to see you, after avoiding you for a week. He's Sukuna, he doesn't have any shame. You're sleeping, like you usually are when he comes to visit you. Your snoring is laboured, and it sounds painful. This time, the doors and the silence don't wake you up. He watches you, curled up under a stack of blankets, rising and falling with your struggles to breathe. How foolish he was, to think forgetting you would be as easy as avoiding you for days. How evil he was, trying to forget you while you are still alive under his wing, still his responsibility. Still his.

He sits next to you and leans over you, fingertips ghosting over your face. The snoring stops and you flutter your eyes open, turning in bed and feeling his body next to yours. You smirk at him, eyes adjusting to the light, and smile when you recognize him. ''Master.'', your arms wrap around his neck as you welcome him, your voice dry, but lively as you beckon him closer. ''I missed you.''.

He comes down to plant a kiss to your forehead. ''I missed you too, darling.''. Oh, the things that escape his mouth when he's alone with you. He cups your face, enjoying how much healthier you look with a smile on your face. ''Feeling any better?'', he rubs your cheek, lingering closely above your face.

You nod, but both of you know you only feel better because you saw him. Still, the little surge of happiness that brings you gives you more energy than you've had the whole week. You wiggle to the edge of the bed, making space and inviting him to join you. Sukuna lies down, hooking one arm underneath your neck and pulling you flush against him.

You wrap your arm around him and lean your head against his shoulder. He's still as big as you remember him, unfaltering in the face of your illness. It's comforting. ''You didn't visit in a while. Were you busy?'', you ask, stroking his back. ''How were your days?''

''Monotone.'', he says. ''The villagers bring remedies for you every day, and wish for you to get well.'' It's no wonder. So many times, Sukuna found himself hesitating to kill just because you were sitting on his knee, dressed in something too pretty to be splattered with blood. In the local villages, word spread that you have ''domesticated'' Sukuna. As if such a thing was possible. Or was it?

''Oh?'', you smile. ''I didn't think they would notice my absence.''. You always were supposed to be Sukuna's accessory and nothing more. Remedies and good wishes make it sound like you're more important than just a pet. So it really is that obvious...

''They did.'', he says, and lowers his head, brushing his nose against your face. ''Some took that as an opportunity to gift me new pets.''

You blink at him, a bit taken aback by his honesty. You keep smiling anyways. ''Did you take any?'', you ask, and he sees nothing but genuine curiosity in your eyes. The truth is, you've had a lot of time to think about your place in Sukuna's mansion. You knew, especially in sickness, that you were never entitled to exclusivity with him. You knew that at some point you would have to be replaced, just by the virtue of being a mortal. A human, who would age and become ugly, wrinkled and useless. You were just unlucky enough to meet this fate sooner than you should've.

Sukuna sighs, the weight of the conversation shifting to him. ''Not to bed, no.'', he says.

You're quiet while you think of what to say. You still have a habit of picking words when you're with Sukuna, but the times when he would punish you for improper formulation are far behind you. "Why not?", you settle. You hope the implication is there, that you wouldn't be so mad even if he did.

Why not? Because he thinks it might break him. Because the image of someone else in your place, under him, feels unnatural and wrong. He thinks the guilt might eat him alive. For once in centuries, someone else's needs come before Sukuna's. He is gone, so far gone. You've raised his standards, and he's not sure anyone he takes now will be able to live up to them. Besides, training a new pet to fit your mold would take years, and even then... He couldn't train someone to love him. Not like you do.

''I wouldn't want you to hold back because of me.'', you say, and he realizes he's been quiet for too long. Years ago, if you dared to imply that Sukuna would do such a thing as hold back because of you, that he cared, you would've been minced meat ready for dinner. Now, he looks down at you tenderly when you say it. Well, a tender look from Sukuna is a docile one. You've gotten used to the way that Sukuna communicates love. Subtly, innocuously.

''Worry about getting well, pet.'', he shuts down the conversation, and moves away from you, sitting back on the bed. ''Any wishes? Food? Activities?'', he asks, and feels your forehead with the back of his hand.

Food? No, but... ''I'd like you to stay, please.'', you say, and take his hand with the two of yours, feeling it up with your thumbs.

Sukuna resists the urge to roll his eyes, knowing the thought of annoying him would upset you greatly. ''That's a given. Anything else?''

You pretend to think, then just babble your favorite food. Sukuna takes your order to Uraume. But when he comes back, you're already asleep again. He waits by your side, but you don't wake, so eventually he leaves. By the evening, the plate of your favorite food remains untouched.

-

You can't leave the bed on your own anymore. Sukuna carries you outside when you're feeling good enough. You barely have the strength to latch onto him securely. Still, it's hard to slip out of the grasp of his four arms. He says you've gotten pale. You lay in his lap and bask in the sun, while he tells you about his day or reads a book out loud for you to enjoy. You wish you could talk to him more, but your voice leaves you as days of endless coughing wreck your throat. No herbs and teas ease your condition anymore. You wait for your final day.

And Sukuna doesn't know when he's given up on the idea that you might get better. But he starts spending whole days with you, leaving your side only to sleep in his bed. He tends to almost all your needs personally. You think that if you asked him to get on his knees for you, he would. He is not familiar with this ache that brews in his chest when he looks to his side and doesn't see you there. It feels violating. To be as powerful as he is, and yet completely helpless in the face of the sickness that drains you in front of his very eyes.

He plays with your thinning hair one morning, and you look at him from his lap, as adoringly as always. ''Isn't it funny?.'', you say, and he snaps out of his thoughts to look at you. ''I always imagined dying by your hand.'', you kiss his hand again, planting your dry, blue lips against his knuckles. ''Who would have thought?''.

You, you little human. You made him feel like a fool, like a coward. You made him feel powerless. Who could ever get away unscathed with making Sukuna feel like this? The thought of killing you now, even out of mercy, fills him with horror. He thinks he couldn't live carrying the burden of your death on his back. It's already hard for him as is.

When he's not with you, he withers away in his room, waiting. And when the servants finally come, and tell him you're at your last strengths, he feels as tense as he feels relieved. The servants shake in fear of his reaction, and he simply dismisses them. In a thousand years of his existence, he doesn't remember having to prepare to enter a room. His hand trembles as he brings it up to push the door open. He dreads what awaits him inside.

He expected blood, hysteria, chaos, yet there's none of it when he walks in. Just the pained noises of your breathing. A servant, your favorite, sits by your side and wipes sweat off your forehead. She talks to you in a comforting tone and pats your head gently. When he walks in the room, she lowers her head and moves to leave. It's only a second, but he sees the sad look on your face. ''Stay.'', he orders, and the servant bows and thanks him.

You move your attention to him, raising your hand to greet him weakly. He picks it up and bends down to kiss it. There's tears in your eyes as he settles into a seat next to you, and you open your mouth in an attempt to say something.

''Easy now.'', he shushes you, and helps you into his lap. You lean back, looking at him through a blur. His features appear even more doubled through the tears, and you still find his beauty mesmerizing. Your master. Your own little god and protector. Although he regrets it, you've never claimed the title of his spouse. Yet, he still stuck by your side, until parted by death. In sickness and in health.

He wipes your tears, and the mouth he conjures onto his hand kisses your forehead. One set of his hands caresses your face, the other massages the tension out of your bony shoulders. Sukuna knows how important it is for you to pass in peace. He doesn't want to curse you, or have despair turn you into a curse. "Relax now.", his voice is so soothing, as if lulling you to sleep. "It won't be long". You weep. What did an ordinary human like you do to deserve this honor? To be comforted on their death bed by a god. To be guided to death by him.

"Master.", you sob. "I'm so scared..."

Delicate touch against your skin. Sharp nails grazing your cheek ever so slightly, just barely enough to make their presence known. "Have no fear.", Sukuna looms over you like a snowdrop. "Where you go now, pain won't follow.". You speak to him a little longer. Tell him all the things you always wanted to tell him, but were scared of the consequences. Dangerous words, ones that were rarely associated with Sukuna. Love. And Sukuna is attentive, so human. Your blinking slows and you find comfort in his voice, as he returns every loving word back to you. Your pained breathing follows, and your eyelids are so heavy. But the sight of him is so hypnotizing, you wish you never had to look away. "You are so brave, my little dove. Go now, be free.". You were too good for this wretched palace anyways. The sight of him is etched in your memory as you close your eyes. "It was a pleasure to have you by my side.", you listen, feeling control over your body slip through your fingers. When you can't move, or feel his touch, you still hear his calm voice. "When you're ready, come back to me. I'll be waiting for your return.". Then everything is quiet, for you and for him. The servants cries are muffled by the sheets, where she has her head pressed by your side.

The hallways, silent except for the busy tapping of feet. Outside, the wind blows petals off of blooming flowers, leaving them bare and stranded. Autumn is here to carry you away.

Servants hold their breath when Sukuna walks by. One wrong look at him and the walls would be painted red. Just like before. Before you. And it's not long before Sukuna looks like a monster again - red eyes and a permanent frown etched on his face. Villagers bring bouquets, and lay them to the right of his throne, where you used to sit. He stares them all down, and only for a moment thinks that maybe, humans are not the scum he thought they were. But then he remembers, they only mourn you because you held him back from his destructive tendencies. Scum.

And he kills again. The first is a villager from afar, where news of your passing hasn't reached. Ripped to shreds for mentioning you. The women who screamed, their blood soaks the carpets and seeps through the wooden floor, dripping down to the cellars. He feels like himself again, unhinged, unbeatable.

Until the day is over, and he goes back to his empty room. His cold, empty bed, and the old habit of reaching for you in his sleep, only to grab nothing instead. And the crocheted figures of the two of you on his nightstand, watching him as he struggles to sleep alone. He can't bear it. So he leaves, and doesn't come back for days, weeks, months.

Smoke clouds the skies on the horizon once again, after years and years of peace and clarity. As far as the eye stretches, the world will know of Sukuna's wrath. But as thrilling as it feels to conquer again, when the village is burned and ash covers the grass on the ground, the thought of you still lingers. Your devastated eyes the first time he's killed before you. The first time he's felt guilty about his monstrous nature. When he comes back, no one's warm embrace awaits him. No one's there to brighten up his day. No amount of blood shed and villages burned replace the emptiness you left behind in his heart.

The grief settles, and sits heavy in Sukuna's chest, as he assumes position in his lonely throne again, and gazes at the row of people waiting to beg, talk, offer... bore him. Another eternity of boredom. An eternity of picking through thousands of humans, in vain hopes of finding you again. In vain hopes of recognizing you, even if it's lifetimes from now, when the last memory of your face has already faded from his mind. When generations change, and the thought of a monster like Sukuna being capable of tenderness vanishes. When the fire in his chest, ignited by love, is already a memory so distant, that recalling it feels surreal.

Maybe he will forget you by then. Maybe times will harden him again, and the idea of a pet becoming his lover will make him laugh. But for now, the thought of finding you in a crowd, taking you in his arms and never letting go, is his comfort and safe place. For now, he will wait for you. As long as it takes, like a stone, unyielding against the passing of time.

[tojikai]

Sundered 9: RESOLVE

Pairing: Gojo x reader

• Part 1  |  Part 2   | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Alt. Ending

Genre: Angst

tags/cw: angst, babydaddy!gojo, babymomma!reader, motherhood, insecurities, arguments, mentions of abortion

word count: 7.8k

a/n: sorry, it took so long. i had problems lol mb

You can’t remember at what point everything started going right but you’re not complaining.

 “I don’t think I can continue like this. I don’t think we should continue like this.” 

“Like what?” You looked up at him, a look of worry filling your wide eyes. He stared down at you with an expression you can’t read. You felt his hands trail beside you, before cupping your cheeks, kissing your lips softly. “Toji, was I not-” And he was quick to quell you

“No, Y/N. It’s not on you, stop putting everything on yourself, baby.” He hates that the first thing you think when something fails is your fault. He hates that he’s making you feel like you’re the only one who needs to put in the work. 

After your arguments, Toji’s been thinking that his emphasis on how you’re being pointlessly jealous of a dead person is why you think you’re the only one who has to make big adjustments. That’s probably why you think you have to put in the most effort to make this work.

“Then, what is it? I thought we were doing well, Toji.” The worried look on your face mixed with frustration as you took a step back from him, rubbing your face with your hands. “We are doing well, Y/N.” He was firm with his answer, and you know he’s telling the truth. But why? “We work so well together. But this isn’t the relationship we deserve.” He sighed.

“That doesn’t make sense, Toji.” You pursed your lips, emotions getting stronger. “If we work so well together, then how can you say that this isn’t what we deserve?” You sat on the bed, patiently waiting for an answer.

“We deserve to be in a relationship where we don’t have to remind ourselves how we should be constantly.” Toji mentally cursed himself for putting you in such a situation early in the morning but he doesn’t think he could sleep another peaceful night with everything in his mind. 

“Relationships are things that flow naturally, Y/N. You do not do things just because you have to, or just because somebody told you to do it. You shouldn’t feel like you have to remind yourself what to do.” He breathed heavily, sounding as if he’d been practicing this in his head for a while now. “Is that how you feel with me?” You tried him, only to get the question back.

“Is that not how you feel with me?” Your silence answered his question. There was a pool of hot liquid in your eyes that you wouldn’t allow to fall. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Think of the strain that you’ve been putting on yourself, Y/N. Tell me you had not once thought of letting it all go even just for a second.”

A sob erupted from your throat; one that you didn’t see coming. It’s a thought you always choose to ignore because you really want to try hard for him, for this thing to work. Now, you understand when they say that sometimes it’s more painful to hold on than to let go.

As if getting burnt by holding on to a rope too tightly, hoping that the other end would stop pulling away.

But right now, Toji’s slowly being torn away from you. And you can’t do anything about this unbearable pain that feels like it could tear you apart; limb for limb. You realize that even if he doesn’t pull away, you’d still end up being hurt for this rope that you are holding on to is too far out of your reach. 

“Toji… I don’t know, I thought I found something good with you. And now it just felt like I’m losing all of it like I’m losing—” Toji quickly shushed you, hugging you ever so tightly to him and it scared you. It almost felt like he was letting you memorize the comfort of his body against yours because this was the last time you’d be feeling it.

“You’re not losing me, love.” He consoled you and though, you can’t express it, the words brought you comfort. “I just don’t think we’re meant to be in this setup but that doesn’t mean you’re losing me.” And just like that, the pain was back again.

“Do I not deserve it?” You asked him, almost flinching at your words when you promised yourself you’d never ask anyone that. Toji sighed, taking both of your hands and bringing them to his lips. “Not this. You deserve more than this. You deserve to be genuinely happy without sacrificing anything, without feeling spent.”

You can’t remember, or more like you chose not to carve into your memory how that day ended. The only image you can see in your head is how he cuddled you to sleep, woke you up to eat with him and the kids, and went home. You remember him saying that they could always visit. And you hated yourself for doubting him.

“Mama, look it.” You heard your baby talking to you as she showed you the screen of your phone. It was Toji. It surprised you that you weren’t crying, or hurting as much as you thought you would. Maybe it’s because of the reassurance that you received from him. 

And it’s not something like hoping that you’d be back together again but it’s more of a security that you didn’t just lose such a good man in your life; even as a friend. “Yeah?” You answered, pulling your toddler closer to you just as she started to move near the edge of the bed. “Just wanna know how you're doing.” 

You chuckled, finding it funny that your now ex is calling you, indirectly checking if you’re still crying. It’s normal for him to expect that kind of thing but the difference between this and other breakups is that you actually ended on good terms and with valid reasons, seeking only the best for each other.

“I am a bit ok, surprisingly.” You answered, you heard a sigh from the other end of the line and a tiny laugh from Megumi, probably watching something on his iPad. You looked at your daughter, thinking if she’ll start looking for her little friend tomorrow and how you’re going to handle that. 

“I’m sorry.” You rubbed your eyes, humming at his words. “This is for the best, I guess.” You spoke, remembering how you used to tell that to yourself when you found out that Satoru got himself a new girlfriend; throwing all his promises out the window and choosing to move forward away from you. 

“You know Yui can still come over for play dates, right?” He spoke as if reading your mind. Toji knows of your concern about this matter as you expressed it earlier to him. Yui has spent a lot of time with Megumi and you know how she is with him because he’s her real first close friend.

“I won’t mind if she’ll be dropped off by Satoruf, he could even accompany her with you guys. I won’t mind, really. I know Megumi will ask for Yui.” He laughed lightly, patiently waiting for your answer, only to receive a hum.

“Y/N, you’re free to make decisions now—” You know that he’s talking about your reconciliation with Satoru but to be very honest, that’s not in your mind right now. You might be yearning for that whole family, and you can see Satoru’s progress but that doesn’t mean you can just bounce back like that. 

“I don’t know, that’s not how I really feel, I think  I should focus on building myself as an independent person for now.” You pursed your lips and you could just imagine him nodding his head to your words. “It’ll happen if it’s meant to happen.” You know that Yui needs her father, and you know that if she could talk to you right now, she’d probably wish for the two of you to be together with her.

But you want to know if this thing you’re feeling for Satoru is real or if it’s only because you longed to give your daughter that fulfillment. It’s not a bad thing to want that for her but you don’t know if you can handle another heartbreak for rushing things. “I’ll just let things be for now.” You added, sighing deeply.  

The conversation with Toji went on for a couple of minutes before you said your goodbyes. You know it won’t be like this every night and that makes your chest squeeze but it’d only feel like forcing things if you asked him for that. You’ll move forward. Like you always do. Your child is growing and maybe it’s about time she learns something valuable from you.

—---------------------------------------

“Da!” The little girl squealed as her father entered your apartment. She got up and ran to him, almost tripping on one of her toys. “Careful. I’m not going away.” He picked her up, kissing her cheek. You closed the door behind you, rushing to kick away the things on the floor. It’s still a bit messy because you’re trying to get her ready for the day before you head to work.

“You’re early.” You spoke to him, watching them sit on the couch. “I’m…uh, cooking something. Have you had breakfast?” You bite your top lip as you turn away from them. “I had coffee.” Yui was trying to put a clip on his hair, laughing when she thought she got it done. “Come, eat with us, then.” You picked your daughter up, heading to the kitchen.

“Mama! ‘Gumi?” You put her in her chair, sighing lightly at the mention of her playmate. It has been almost three weeks and you still haven’t told Satoru about what happened with Toji and you. He’s not asking either, but you can tell he’s curious, eyeing you as he enters the small kitchen.

“He’s at daycare. Maybe next week, when Mama’s not busy, alright?” You spoke, placing the food in front of her, and pressing on the plate to make sure that it was stuck on the surface. “Haven’t seen them around.” Satoru cleared his throat, playing it cool as he didn’t want to seem like he was intruding into your “love life.”

“They, uh, they won’t be around so much anymore.” You put the plates on the table, tucking a hair behind your ear as you turned. Satoru pursed his lips, not wanting to pry any longer but the next sentence made his eyebrows raise. “We kinda…Toji and I broke up. So, if not for the kids, we won’t-“ 

“Since when?” If it was before Satoru would probably be thinking about how this is a chance for him but right now, as he sat on that kitchen table, all he could feel was worry. He thinks that you really love Toji and he became your rock during the times when your baby daddy’s acting up.

“Almost three weeks ago. It’s, uh, nothing too heavy. The relationship just became too much.” Satoru doesn’t know if it’s right for him to say “sorry.” He’s scared that it might break you and he doesn’t want to see you cry again. 

He made you cry many times and he hated himself for it. He can’t help but feel like any anger he might harbor towards Toji would be… invalid.  “I didn't think dating when you both already have kids would be so different than when you don’t.” You chuckled half-heartedly. 

“We just don’t think it could stand in the long run, so…” You shrugged, finally sitting down after you placed the glass pitcher on the table. You peeked at Satoru, attempting to read the expression on his face. 

“Look, I know Yui’s always been our priority but if you need a bit of time for yourself, you know you can leave Yui with me.” He cracked his knuckles, not sure of how to help you with this. “You should take a break from work, if you think that’s what you need, I will-“ You placed a hand on his arm, stopping him.

There’s not much he can offer that wouldn’t make it look like he’s trying to take advantage of the situation. That’s the last thing he wants you to think. He thought you were a bit gloomy during the past couple of weeks and assumed it was just a lover’s quarrel or something.

“Thanks. But it’s alright. We’re good, we’re just…not dating anymore.” You let out a laugh, retracting your hand away as you reached for the towel to wipe your daughter’s food-stained cheek. “Megumi and Yui still play together, I mean they’re besties now, right?” Yui giggled at the mention of her friend.

“That’s nice, he’s her first friend.” Satoru smiled genuinely. Aside from Yui’s occasional babbles, Satoru and you ate in silence. Eating together at your home is beginning to become a normal, regular thing now. And for some reason, it doesn’t worry you anymore. 

Getting Yui ready took a bit more time than it should have when she wanted her Dad to pick her clothes. Of course, none of you could say no. You quickly brought out your phone to take a photo of her and her father, holding hands as they stood before the clothes she took out of her drawer.

“It’s chilly. You can’t wear that.” You commented on the shirt she brought out. With a pout on her lips, she continued to pull on her clothes. “We’ll pair it with something. Yeah?” Satoru consoled her, earning a smile from the little girl. “I’ll make the two of you fold all of that.” You joked before turning to pick up a few scattered clothes. 

You checked her bag one last time, counting all the things she needed in your mind. You can hear her laughing as Satoru struggles to put on her boots. She is the happiest when he’s in the house. You fear that she’ll soon start asking about why her father lives in a different house, unlike most kids. 

“You don’t have to worry so much if she left something. We’ll probably be here tomorrow, you know how she is.” Satoru laughed, lifting the child. It’s true that even during the days when she’s supposed to be with her dad, she still asks him to see you. There was one time when they showed up at your work and everybody thought that you’re back together.

“It could be something important.” You sighed, leaning in to give your daughter a kiss. “Be good.” She nodded her head, wiggling her brows in the process, knowing that it never fails to make you laugh. Satoru can’t help but stare, statued by how close you are to each other; paralyzed by the fact that this could’ve been better if he never did what he did.

“Don’t forget the face creams at night, please.” You reminded him, stepping away as you locked eyes. “Of course.” He took the bag, walking towards the door with you trailing closely behind them. “Buh-bye!” She waved at you from her car seat. You watched as Satoru made sure it was locked before closing the door behind him.

“See you in a few days, Mama.” He spoke playfully, and you know that he’s just trying to say it for your daughter but it made your heart swell for some reason, a blush forcing its way to your cheek. This has been happening a lot with him, even when you were still with Toji. You tried to convince yourself that you were just “caught off guard.”

Work kept you busy for the whole day. It wasn’t long until you found yourself on your couch, smiling at the video Satoru sent you. Yui was holding an elephant bowl full of ice cream, focused on the movie playing on the screen. Their matching lilac pajamas made everything more adorable. After sending a reply, you put your phone down.

Days and weeks went by fast. Megumi and Yui played at the park together last week. You thought it’d be awkward but it was pretty much the same with Toji minus the intimacy. He was still chill to be with and he was still very caring towards you. And you admired him for all of it.

“I ran into them at the mall once. I think they went toy shopping.” He spoke, looking over at the kids as they struggled to understand how to make the seesaw work on their own. “Oh yeah, he mentioned that one time.” You replied, before giving a warning to your daughter who’s now so ready to climb the metal board.

Your mind went back to the image of Satoru coming in with boxes and bags, and a little kid trailing behind him, holding on to the hem of his jacket. He couldn’t even carry her because of everything but she was overjoyed, showing off her new stuff. 

“You can’t leave all that here. Her room isn’t big, Satoru.” You sighed, picking your daughter up, “You already have so many toys.” You reminded her but she wasn’t listening at all. “It’s alright, I’ll bring them to my house,” Satoru spoke as he put them on the couch. 

Sometimes you wonder if you’ll ever save up enough to get a bigger space for you and Yui. Satoru once brought it up, offering help but you don’t want that. You’re not together, so to you, being able to provide and improve on your own for your daughter is a goal. You trust that things’ll get better for you, even if you’re alone.

“You two working it out?” Toji's voice brought you out of your memory. You looked at him for a couple of seconds, and he just stared back at you, like he just asked the most normal question an ex could ask. “N-no. He’s not even trying, I mean he never even explicitly tried to show any hint. I doubt that any of us are thinking about that right now.” You rambled and he just nodded.

You didn’t mean to blurt out something like that so casually. But in all honesty, that made you more comfortable and less tense about all of this. He doesn’t make you feel awkward at all. He doesn’t make you feel like you’re stuck in your past with him. It’s almost as if he’s just been a friend, a very close one, all this time.

There was a moment of easy silence between the two of you. You can only hear the noises from the other kids and the two in front of you. But it wasn’t long until it was broken by Toji. “He loves you, you know?” You feel like even the sound of your breaths paused. “I’m not saying that you should force yourself to try again with him. I just want you to know that Satoru genuinely loves you.”

Thinking about it now, you realize that you and Toji never really talked like this about your relationship with Satoru before. It’s always just the problems and the past that you always claimed to be only bitter memories now. 

Toji leaned back on the chair, not caring if you were answering or not. He’s good at sensing the atmosphere, and you’re not in a way bothered by the topic. You were surprised to hear it from him, of course, but you don’t feel troubled at all. 

“Satoru and I had a talk once, just the two of us. I was expecting less from him due to how he treated you before.” He crossed his arms on his chest, eyes wandering as he recalled, “But he was so sure with his words, I was kind of taken aback.” He chuckled, and you wondered what his exact words were.

“No offense, but I feel like that was the only time I really looked at him as a man; a grown man.” He laughed, shaking his head in amusement. “I know 'cause I’ve been there.” He nodded, sounding softer and you just know who he’s thinking about. “The resolve; the determination in him even when he knows that it’s impossible.”

“He has to work on a lot of things. He’s got so much to reflect on.” You sighed, unsure of how to react, not because you rejected the information but because it got your heart drumming in your chest. “We gotta grow as individuals. And if we’re meant to be together, it’s…it’ll happen on its own.” You chuckled, swallowing dryly. 

You don’t know if that scares you or excites you for the future. But you know that it’s gonna be so much better than before.

—---------------------------------------

6 Months Later

“Mama why? Mama why?” You heard Satoru laugh loudly at your daughter's words. She’s been repeating the same words over and over since you started getting her ready. Her hair was up extra nice today and she’s staring at her gown hanging near the dresser.

“Mama whats go on? Huh, Mama?” She asked again, sending Satoru into another fit of laughter. “Baby, I’ve been saying. It’s Yui Day today. Your birthday.” You smiled at her kindly, securing the cute hair clips on her head. “I don’t think she’s fully taken any of this in.” Satoru sat on her bed, looking at the two of you.

Her grandfather volunteered to take care of the preparations at Satoru’s house. The helpers arrived early in the morning and Satoru left him there to pick the two of you up and to help get his little girl ready. You’re still in your house clothes and you’re not even a step closer to being ready. 

“Go take a shower, I got her.” Satoru arrived just as you were fixing Yui’s hair. “Okay, the shoes are over there. Put the headband on after the dress so it won’t mess up her hair.” You reminded him as you stood up. “Yes, Ma’am.” The little girl jumped towards him pointing at her dress. You stepped out and got ready as quickly as you can. 

You were supposed to wear the dress you bought the other week. It wasn’t much and you were worried that it might not look that good, especially with the guests that will come over. You didn’t want to look cheap but you wanted to save so you went for something that goes in the middle. 

To your surprise, when Satoru brought Yui’s gown and shoes, he got another set with him. You thought it was for some outfit change but he soon revealed, albeit shyly, that he thought the dress matched the theme of your daughter’s party so he got it for you. It was a designer dress and a pair of shoes. 

“I’d…I’ll pay for this, alright? I can’t just—” He cut you off with a close-lipped smile and a gentle sight. “Y/N, I know it’s hard to accept this but I already had lots of shortcomings with you and Yui. This doesn’t mean anything, don’t worry. I’m not trying to, you know, I just want you to feel your best during our daughter’s birthday.” He spoke, nervousness still clear in his voice.

“B-but you’re free to decline it if you don’t feel comfortable, sorry, I can take it back to the—” This time you cut him off with a laugh, “I’m sorry this is just so… expensive. I don’t know how to feel if I just openly accept it from you.” You placed the box on the table behind you, sitting down in hopes of changing the atmosphere. 

“Okay, then…just consider this as a gift since I, uh, failed to get you one on your last birthday.” He breathed out the last part as if it was a heavy feeling in his chest that he couldn’t push past his lips. It isn’t as heavy as it was to you though.

Your last birthday was painful to remember, probably the worst one you had ever since you were born even if you never had a big celebration your whole life aside from when you were with Satoru. Last year, your birthday was on the same day as Satoru’s co-parenting schedule. 

That time you were hoping that he and Yui would celebrate it with you. But that morning, he came in with Naomi. With hickeys peeking from his jacket, messy hair, and swollen lips, they picked Yui up. You remember your daughter babbling about “Mama day” in a much less understood baby talk that Naomi still caught.

“Oh, is it your birthday? She said ‘mama day’, right?” Her bright eyes shined at you, dimples showing as she smiled but it didn’t lessen the ache in your chest. “Oh, sorry. Happy birthday.” Satoru spoke, proceeding to take his daughter’s belongings. “We should’ve picked Yui up in the afternoon so, they could spend time together.” She suggested, laughing awkwardly.

“What time did you book the Children’s Museum trip?” Satoru halted, his back turned to you. You were about to interrupt, afraid that you were starting to look too pitiful for the lovebirds in front of you and your child. “It starts at 10:00.” She spoke, adjusting the toddler on her hip. “It’s 9:19.” Satoru read his watch, biting his lips with his eyebrows scrunched together.

“We can’t really leave her now, the Children’s Museum isn’t open every day. You can…uh—” He tried to think, turning to you but you can’t take it anymore. “N-no. It’s alright. You—Yui have fun, baby, alright? We’ll go out when you’re back home.” You waved at the child and her smile soothed you. Almost.

“Happy birthday, Y/N, sorry.” Naomi smiled, avoiding your eyes and you hated it. You hated that she felt sorry for you. You hated that they felt sorry for you. “Enjoy your day.” She added, turning around as she urged your daughter to wave again. “We’ll get going, sorry again. Happy birthday.” He spoke lowly, earning a fake smile and a nod from you.

You closed the door before you could even see him put his hand on her waist and guide them to his car. It was supposed to be. That should be the three of you. You wiped the stray tear that fell from your eyes with the back of your hand. That day, you stayed at home, slept until your mother came and brought food, and refused to tell her the story. 

That night you stayed awake, wondering how many falls a heart can take before it turns to dust, never to be recovered again.

“Done?” Satoru’s voice brought you back to reality. Your eyes flickered to the reflection of the door in the mirror. You were about to respond when the door burst open, and your child trudged in, almost falling as she squealed. “Mama! Pretty Mama!” She pulled at her skirt, turning. “Wow, lovely. You’re so beautiful, baby!” You cooed at her as she hugged your robe-covered waist.

“Dada put this. Dada! This!” You can tell how excited she is by how she shows off everything; from her headband to her anklets and shoes. She even shows it to her father even if he’s the one who dressed her up. You chuckled in amusement, all the pain numbed as your eyes focused on the present.

You looked over at Satoru who tries to look everywhere but you. Your hair’s still wet from the shower, and you’re still in your robe, all bare underneath and you can’t believe it took you this long to realize that. “You’re so pretty, how about we take pictures downstairs? Or with your toys?” He tried to convince her, wanting to give you time to dress up.

“Mama come!” She pulls at you, “Mama has to wear her pretty dress too, so you’ll be twins.” Satoru quickly picked her up, smiling at you as her daughter babbled excitedly, allowing him to distract her as he closed the door behind them. You turned to look at yourself in the mirror once more, drying your hair quietly.

Thinking back on what Toji said, you can’t just believe them after everything Satoru has done.

—---------------------------------------

You can feel Satoru’s light touch as the three of you pose for the final picture of the day before the party ends. It has been such a long day. Yui happily walked around, clapping at the guests when they sang her a birthday song; quite the opposite of what you thought would happen. You and Satoru received a lot of statements and questions as you were greeting the visitors too.

“Oh, you’re back together again, that’s great!” His aunt said to which he quickly answered with a chuckle, “I’d love that, but no.” You smiled at the old lady, thankful for the understanding face rather than pushing.

“I knew you’d be back to Y/N!” His cousin winked at you, raising a fist bump which you couldn’t really reject. Satoru nodded his head, glancing at you awkwardly at how loud the man was being  “When did you guys get back together?” He elbowed him like he was so sure of the information. 

“We’re not…really back together. We’re…This is co-parenting.” Satoru took Yui from you. “Say hi.” And that’s how he changed that topic. He met Yui once when she was a baby and to say that he was mesmerized by how much she looked like Satoru now is an understatement. “How did you manage to turn yourself into a little girl.” He and Satoru laughed and you excused yourself to greet some of your relatives who attended. 

“I would be mad but, oh well, anything that makes that little doll happy.” Your grandma sighed, smiling as she hugged you. “We’re not back together. I’ll bring her here in a bit.” You muttered, pulling at your dress. “That’s a nice dress you have, it looks expensive, honey.” Your mother complimented.

“Yeah, Satoru got it…f-for me. So, uh, we could match the theme. He organized this.” You smiled nervously, worried at how her eyebrows raised. “I’ll be back, Mom.” You added with a little wave before going back to Satoru and Yui who were now looking at you in distress as she got taken by Satoru’s friend.

“Don’t take him back.” was Shoko’s first words to you as you reached them, making the whole table and you laugh. “Stop it.” Satoru grunted, “Give me my kid back if you’re going to be like that.” He rolled his eyes playfully before meeting yours. “He’s still far from that.” You replied, making them laugh again. Satoru knows that you aren’t joking at all.

It’s funny how the people around you have different views regarding reconciliation with him. And you, you don’t want to think of it. Or more like you’re scared to think of it. 

Because you fear that deep in your heart, you still yearn for all of it.

“Yui!” A voice called and when you turned around it was Megumi in his cut little outfit that almost matched Yui’s dress. “Oh gosh, you’re so cute ‘Gumi!” You cooed, hugging the little boy. He would look down at his shirt and back at you as if to show it off. Your eyes wandered around for Toji and you found him speaking to your Mother. You smiled as he waved at you.

“I didn’t see you guys come in.” You spoke as you got close to them. “Sorry, we’re a bit late. He wanted to get another gift.” Toji laughed, nodding at Megumi’s direction who was now walking towards your table with Satoru and Yui. “Thanks for coming.” Satoru encouraged, a little awkwardly.

“Megumi wouldn’t miss his best friend’s birthday.” Toji reached over to fix his son's clothes. You stayed for a bit to talk with Toji and your mom, Satoru took the kids to the photo booth to play with the other kids at the party. 

And now you’re walking the last few of the helpers out the door, thanking them for the smooth flow of the event. Yui already fell asleep on Satoru’s shoulder, just like her little friend. Toji went home with a sleepy Megumi who refused to get carried by his dad and insisted on walking despite the constant stumbling.

Thanking Satoru’s Dad before he heads home, he gives the two of you a piece of advice: “I hope you two are not thinking too much of what to do with what you have.” You both didn’t know what to say. You don’t even get it at first but when he spoke again, it all made sense.

“It will happen if it’s meant to happen. Like before. When you were blessed with this angel.” He softly stroked Yui’s cheek, chuckling when her nose twitched. “Well, that’s all. You’re both doing just great. Satoru, stop worrying about the things with your mom. Leave that to me.” With that, he bid goodbye and left. 

You had to stop yourself from being too curious about what happened with Satoru and his mother. All that you know is that he broke up with Naomi and you thought that she probably tried to stop him, of course. What’s bugging you is the fact that his father had to comfort him about it. Would it be too much to ask?

“Let’s go inside.” He ushered, adjusting his daughter in his arms and patting her head as she wiggled a little before going back to sleep. “I’m glad we hired helpers. I don’t think I can handle cleaning after all of that.” He laughed, carefully sitting on the couch. “I don’t know how celebrities do meet and greets. I feel so drained.” You agreed sitting down on the loveseat.

“I can’t believe she’s three now. It’s like she was still so tiny a few months ago.” His whispers were low; gentle. You could hear all the love in his voice and the tired yet contented look on his face as he gazed lovingly at his child. She could be getting a sibling now, but you fucked around. You caught yourself thinking, biting your lip at the realization of how silly you’re being.

After a short conversation, Satoru decided to put her in her bed. You’re sure that she’ll be awake in an hour or two. You agreed to stay the night here since you considered that Yui might want to open her gifts by the end of the party. She already opened some earlier due to curiosity but got distracted multiple times and ended up forgetting about them. 

“Oh, shit.” You whispered, rummaging through the baby bag with her feet on your lap. You were trying to clean her a little but you ran out of wipes and you forgot to put the extra pack due to the rush this early morning. You carefully placed her feet down to get up and find Satoru. You saw him in his front yard, putting away some things that had been used earlier.

“Does she have wet wipes here? The one in her bag ran out.” You asked him, stepping out of the house. “Yeah, it’s in my bedside drawer, do you mind getting it?” He spoke, carrying a foldable table to the other end of the yard, “Okay.” You found his bedroom door ajar and let yourself in.

Did he specify which one? There are two bedside tables. You went to the closest one, opening the first drawer. You knew you were looking for the wipes and that’s why you came here, you mentally noted that anything in here does not concern you and thus, must not be meddled with. 

But right now you’re staring at the brown envelope with a hospital address and a name with the  “MD, OB-GYN” title plastered on it. You don’t have to have a degree to understand that. You can feel your heart slowly picking up a pace as you think of all the possible meanings of it.

Was Naomi pregnant and they decided to abort it? Did Satoru make her do it? What if he made her do it because of the fact that he still wants to be with you? You can’t really do anything if that’s why but it makes you feel…accountable. Is this why they broke up on bad terms that even his mother doesn’t want to see him anymore?

The envelope was staring back at you and you can’t help but feel like touching it; opening it. You can get your answer right now if you just read what’s inside this quickly. You won’t have to think about all of this anymore. The voice in your head silenced the approaching footsteps and the sound of Satoru’s voice calling your name.

A shadow was cast upon you and the paper. You looked up to see Satoru staring at the envelope with slightly wide eyes. He quickly closed the cabinet, swallowing as he avoided your eyes. “Sorry, I forgot to mention.” He moved away to get the wipes from the other drawer. “It-it’s here.” He walked quickly, urging you to get moving. “Let’s go before she wakes up—”

“What was that, Satoru?” You don’t care how this made you sound as you grabbed his arm preventing him from leaving the room. He wouldn’t have reacted that way; he wouldn’t have disregarded the matter if it wasn’t something to be hidden. Why did he look so alarmed that you saw it? Like you’re not supposed to know about it.

“It was an old test, I forgot to throw it away.” He rasped, staring at your lips; staring everywhere but your eyes. “I know how to read. The date it was delivered shouldn’t be far from the day the test was done, right?” You half blinked, breathing in as you told yourself to calm down. You don’t know how you’d feel if he told you that’s none of your business. 

“Was Naomi pregnant when you broke up with her?” Your voice was a bit more steady, “No.” He sounded small and you could tell that whatever was going on inside his head wasn’t easy to verbalize. “Then, what’s there to hide about it?” You don’t need him to tell you, you could tell that you weren’t supposed to see that.

“I fear that I might be getting a little too overconfident about your feelings for me but—” You lowered your eyes, embarrassed at how that sounded and a bit thankful for being cut off. “She was never pregnant. Sh-she tried…while I was intoxicated. I got her examined.” Satoru rambled, obviously triggered by your words. 

“She what?” You looked at him, brows furrowed and eyes wide, finding it hard to believe the assumption in your head. “I got drunk. She…she tried to…” He walked towards that drawer, pulling out the envelope and the paper inside. 

“Y/N, read it. I couldn't… I didn’t want to tell you. I didn’t want to vent about this to you because that’s all I’ve been doing, I just want to give you all the good now. I’ll try, Y/N, I promise.” At this point, you don’t even know what he’s trying to explain to you but the welling tears in his eyes and the coldness of his fingers against your skin was enough to pull you to him.

The papers were dropped to the floor as you held him to you. His head was bowed down as he cried on your shoulder as if this was the first day he was allowed to cry about this; as if this was the first time he could hold on to someone while the fear, anger, and shame tore him to pieces.

He held onto you as he sobbed his heart out after holding it all in for so long.

He doesn’t deserve this. No matter what he did or said, Satoru doesn’t deserve this. After everything, you can see how much he’s trying. Despite not being promised anything, he’s giving his all. It wouldn’t be easy to forget and it won’t be easy to trust. But the love you feel for this man comes too naturally to be contained.

“You didn’t deserve that…” You hushed him, hearing him blame himself was shattering. Does his mother know? Why did she disappear as well? What really happened? “Satoru, what happened with your Mom?” His breath hitches. The grown man in the room is now in the form of a child, looking for a hand to hold.

“She knew about it.” His cheeks were wet and his eyes bloodshot as he looked up, running his fingers through his hair. You thought there was something wrong that day. But you didn’t think it could be this bad. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t want to ruin this day, this is our baby girl’s day, I shouldn’t have-“

“Satoru, don’t talk like that. That’s beyond your control.” His breaths were shaky. You doubt that even his closest friends knew about this. “My dad and I placed a restraining order against them. I can’t look at those people the same way anymore.” His eyes were closed as he took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think about what you’d feel or think if you accidentally found out…like now. I should’ve explained earlier.” He was referring to your assumptions earlier. “I know it’s hard. I’m sorry, I jumped to conclusions.” You don’t know how long the two of you were staring into each other’s eyes but a voice took you out of the little world that you share. 

“Mama…” A cute, sleepy voice called out from outside of the bedroom. “I’ll get her. Calm your mind, Satoru. It’s over. We’re here.” You have no idea how big of an impact those words had on Satoru. He almost wanted to cry again, to pull you close and cry to you again. 

To see your back walking out of this bedroom door, but this time with the promise of being on the other side, waiting. 

He sat there for a few more minutes, releasing all the heaviness in his chest before getting up to wash his face. Leaning on the doorframe of his daughter’s room, he saw you putting on her little sweaters as you sat barefoot on the floor. “Gumi sing me.” The child spoke with enthusiasm. “He did? What did he sing?” You encouraged, fixing her clothes. 

“Can you sing me a song too?” He interrupted, walking in to sit down with you. It was all it took for Satoru to forget what happened earlier. Eating at home with the two of you always feels like an answered prayer. After that, you helped the child open her gifts until way past her sleeping hours.

Walking you to the guest room felt like the first time you lived together; awkward yet heartwarming. Of course, no boundaries were crossed. He wouldn’t try. And you won’t allow it. At least he got to wish you a good night and sweet dreams again.

—---------------------------------------

Days, weeks, and months went by fast. It’s already been 4 months since Yui’s birthday and now you’re walking with her and Satoru at a grocery store. “Yui, this is for the stuff we will buy, this is not a stroller.” You explained as she tried to get Satoru to put her in the pushcart. 

He wasn’t supposed to be with you here but it’s Yui’s pick-up day and you decided that you need to get some stuff. Satoru asked if he and Yui could join you since he doesn’t have anything planned except for an early movie night with his little girl. “You’re not a little baby anymore.” She hit Satoru’s chest as he pouted teasingly at her.

“Hey. We don’t hit.” You talked to her sternly, making her put her head on her father’s chest, whispering an almost inaudible apology. “Satoru, do not let her hit you, she’ll get used to doing that.” You reminded him, knowing that he can’t ever scold his baby girl.

“Yes, Ma’am.” He replied absentmindedly, bouncing the kid in his arms to get her to laugh. These days, you’ve been getting comfortable with things like this. You’ve been getting comfortable with compliments like “Oh you make cute babies” from old people who take a liking to your daughter.

You’ve been getting comfortable with Satoru pushing the cart for you as you look for what you need, reaching for the items on the top shelf, carrying your bags for you, and driving you home as you sit in the passenger seat.

Like right now.

“Her sleeping schedule got a lot better when she changed her vitamins, yeah?” You responded to Satoru with a hum as you chewed on your fries, handing a piece to your daughter as she kicked on her car seat. “Her doctor recommended that. I’m glad it works, she used to get up so early.” The car stopped in front of your apartment.

“Would you like to stay? I’ll be cooking.” You won’t deny that this isn’t the first time you asked, “I’d love to stay.” And this isn’t the first time he agreed. You don’t know why but you didn’t budge from the passenger seat, knowing that Satoru was rushing to open the door for you. You went to your baby and took her inside, not worrying about your things and the groceries you bought.

You can’t remember the last time it felt awkward with Satoru lying on your couch with your daughter. You also can’t remember how he had a pair of spare house slippers for him here. Walking past the fridge, you saw a photo of Yui and Megumi from their recent pool party. 

Satoru came to pick you and Yui up but you ended up staying for another hour. You can’t remember when Toji and Satoru shed a noticeable amount of awkwardness around them. At one point, you even heard them talking about business like they didn’t try to rip each other’s heads off when they first met. 

You can’t remember at what point everything started going right but you’re not complaining.

“Where’s her choccy-juice?” Satoru mimicked Yui’s words, laughing. “I told her we were about to eat in a few minutes but she won’t listen.” Taking the chocolate milk from the fridge, he stood beside you to fulfill his daughter’s request. “She’s not supposed to have a lot of that.” You sighed, “I’ll just let her have a taste so she’ll stop.” His voice sounded so much softer now.

“Dada!” She came running to the kitchen, holding onto Satoru’s leg as she tried to have a peek at what you were cooking. “Wanna see? Here’s your choccy.” He lifted her, letting her hold the sippy cup as they watched you cook. “Hmm…” Both you and Satoru can’t help but laugh at her reaction. 

You don’t know if it’s because a lot of things happened but they all feel like distant memories; some of which you can’t even clearly see in the back of your mind. Satoru felt like a new man and along with this, the pain of your past continuously fades away each time you see his face. 

You don’t want to name the feeling yet but, you know that all that’s meant to happen will happen. 

Like it did when you had Yui. Like it did when you got sundered. Like it did when you tried with different people. Like it does now, as you slowly, steadily fall back together.

PREV | ALT. Ending

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[bsturnzmtt]

A fic based on Reminder by The Weeknd (angst pls) with Chris

Reminder - C. Sturniolo

Situationship

Paring: jealous!Chris x sub!Reader

Contains/warnings: situationship, orgasm control, edging, overstimulation, creampie (on the pill), spanking, degradation, very rough sex, riding, petnames, use of vibrator.

Summary: Chris flirts and fucks other girls, since you guys aren’t in a relationship you can’t really say something to him. So you decide to flirt with a guy in front of him… so he takes you home and reminds you who you really belong to.

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You have been friends with the Sturniolo triplets for some time now. You are great friends with the three of them. You guys always hangout, have fun, joke around etc. But what Matt and Nick don’t know, is that you and Chris have been hooking up for some while now. You and Chris never really talked about it, you guys would occasionally flirt when no one was around, you would exchange dirty texts, and fuck around. Nothing really serious. Since you guys aren’t really committed, Chris goes around flirting and fucking other girls too. You hate that. You hate that you feel jealous when he does that, but you cant say anything without looking like a crazy jealous girl. So you decided to give Chris a taste of his own medicine…

Tonight you and the triplets are going to get dinner. Chris has been trying to get your attention all night, but you are ignoring him. When you guys get to the restaurant Matt told you and Chris to go get a table while him and Nick try to find a parking spot. You and Chris get out of the car and start walking to the restaurant.

As you and Chris walk to the restaurant, he falls into step beside you, his body crowding yours in a way that's both intentional and unconscious. His arm brushes against yours, a deliberate touch meant to get your attention. He scoffs at his failed attempt to gain your attention. Grabbing your arm, he pulls you aside as soon as you start walking towards the restaurant. “Hey, what's your deal?”

“What do you mean?” You ask feigning confusion.

He raises an eyebrow at you, his eyes glinting in the dim light of the street lamps. His grip on your arm tightens, his face inches from yours. “You know what I mean.” His voice is low, tinged with a mix of annoyance and something deeper, a primal desire.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You say innocently.

Chris lets out a short, humorless laugh. He leans in closer, “Don't play dumb with me.” His hot breath sends a shock of electricity down your spine. "You've been ignoring me all night, and I know you've noticed me trying to get your attention."

“Oh you were? I didn’t catch that.” You say.

Chris rolls his eyes at your response, but a slow smile spreads across his face. “Sure, you didn’t. You're a terrible liar” Chris's eyes narrow, a hint of irritation flashing across his face. “So, stop acting like you don't want anything to do with me." His voice rises, the anger and frustration palpable.

“I’m just not in the mood, yknow…” you say looking at him with a smirk. “And now if you’ll excuse me. We have to get a table.” You pull away his arm and walk to where you ask for a table, and for your luck the guy was cute. “Heyyy, could I get a table for 4? Please?” You ask with a flirty smile and playing with your hair.

Chris grits his teeth as you walk away, his eyes lingering on the sway of your hips. He crosses his arms over his chest, watching as you bat your eyelashes at the cute server. His eyes darkening as he sees the flirty smile and the touch of your hand on the waiter's arm. Chris can't help but feel a surge of jealousy wash over him.

“Jack is it?” You ask as you see the waiters name tag. “That’s a cute name”

Chris watches as Jack's face lights up at the compliment, his eyes sparkling with amusement. He can't help but feel a pang of irritation and annoyance as he sees you two flirting, laughing and smiling at each other. Chris's jaw clenches as you coo over the waiter's name, the possessiveness in him flaring up. He strides over to where you stand, his tall frame dominating the space. "Cute, huh?" His voice is low and menacing, dripping with sarcasm. “So… Jack. What the fuck is taking you so long to get us a table?”

“Oh- uhm right, sorry” Jack says and leads us to our table, and leaves.

You guys get to the table and sit. Chris sits next to you. Chris can't help but glower at you as you take your seats at the table, his irritation and jealousy boiling over. Once Jack is out of sight, he turns to face you, his expression darkening. "What's going on here, huh? You trying to get in his pants or something?"

You scoff “Excuse me?”

Chris leans in, his voice dropping to a low growl. "What the fuck do you think you're playing at?” He tries hard to control his anger, his emotions clouding his judgment. “You were all over him back there.” He reaches out, gripping your thigh possessively under the table. “I saw how you were flirting with him, batting your eyelashes and playing with your hair.”

“Mmh you know… maybe I do want to get in his pants.” You say with a teasing smirk.

Chris's grip on your thigh tightens, anger and jealousy coursing through him. But when he’s about to say something Matt and Nick come to the table. They sit at the two sits in front of you and Chris.

"What's up, fuckers?" Chris tries to sound jovial, but you can hear the edge in his voice. Matt and Nick don't seem to notice, as they engaged in a conversation with each other. "You two order yet?" Nick asks.

“Nope, not yet.” You say.

“Let’s take a look at the menu.” Matt says. We all grab a menu and start reading through it.

“I already know what I want.” Chris says and throws the menu back at the table. You can still feel his hand on your thigh but now he is slowly moving it up.

You breathe heavily and squeeze your thighs. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom really quick.” You say with your voice in edge. You stand up and start walking towards the bathroom.

Chris's grip on your thigh tightens, but you manage to stand up and walk away. He watches you go, his mind running wild with thoughts of what he would like to do to you if his brothers weren’t weren’t here. After a few seconds Chris decides to follow you to the bathroom. “I need to take a piss.” He say and stands up. He walks to the ladies bathroom and stands outside of the door waiting for you.

After 2 minutes you take a deep breath and open the bathroom door, ready to go back to the table and just have a nice dinner with the guys. But when you turn around, Chris is right there, standing outside of the bathroom. “Chris wha-”

Chris quickly grabs you tightly by your arm. “You’re coming with me.” He roughly says, his hot breath hitting your ear. He roughly pulls you towards the table. “Guys I’m taking y/n home, she’s not feeling well.” He says to Nick and Matt.

You looked at him confused

“Oh no what happened?” Nick asks.

“I- uhmm … I’m just not feeling very well… i think my blood pressure is low…” You say that making it up on the spot.

Chris nods his head. “Yeah.”

“Do you need us to come with? I can drive you home.” Matt says.

“Nooo, no it’s fine we’ll uber.” Chris replies.

Chris pulls you out of the restaurant and outside. He looks around for a few seconds and sees an Uber already waiting at the curb. He pushes you into the backseat of the car. The ride to your house is silent. His hand on your thigh all the time. After 10 minutes you get to your house.

Chris gets out of the Uber and looks at you with an intense gaze. He grabs your arm and practically drags you towards your house. His strong grip squeezes you a little too hard.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You say as you two enter your house.

Chris slams the door shut behind you and pushes you up against it. He leans in close, his face inches from yours. “No. What the fuck is wrong with you!? First you ignore me all fucking night. Then you flirt with that stupid waiter in front of me!”

You scoff and push him away slightly. “Are you jealous or something?”

Chris's eyes narrow at your scoff and push. "Jealous? Of who? That waiter? He's nothing."

“Yep you’re definitely jealous.” You say with a teasing smirk.

Chris's face twists in anger, but you can see the jealousy written all over it. "Shut the fuck up," He grabs your wrist and pinches it, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to show control.

“Right, so you get to flirt and fuck with other girls but I don’t to flirt with another guy? You say.

Chris's grip on your wrist tightens slightly at the accusation. "You're mine.” His voice is low and rough, laced with a threat. "I let you flirt and be whatever you want, but you're never touching anyone else."

“I’m not yours” you say with a scoff. “And I can do whatever I want.”

Chris's eyes narrow even further, his anger growing more and more. "You are mine, whether you like it or not." he growls out. “Or maybe you need a reminder of who you belong to.” His hot breath tickling your skin as he says that.

Chris doesn't waste any time, he pulls you roughly to him, slamming his lips against yours in a forceful, possessive kiss. His tongue forces its way into your mouth. His hands roam your body, grabbing and squeezing your curves. He bites your bottom lip hard enough to draw a tiny bead of blood before sucking it into his mouth. His hands grab your hips roughly as he grinds against you, his hardness evident through his pants. "You're mine, and you'll fucking remember it."

Chris's lips trail down your neck, sucking and nipping at the sensitive skin. His hands continue to wander over your body, gripping and groping you. His arousal is growing more and more evident against your leg. He quickly picks you up and makes his way to your room throwing you on your bed. “Strip.”

You quickly start removing all your clothes. You get to your underwear, you slip of your bra and when you were about to slip out your clearly soaked panties, Chris speaks. “Stop.”

Chris's eyes darken as he takes in the sight of you in just your pan. He licks his lips, his gaze roving over your body hungrily. Without a word, he reaches out and rips your soaked panties off, leaving you completely naked. "Fuck, look at you,"

You gasp at his actions.

Chris chuckles darkly at your gasp, his eyes never leaving your body. He steps forward, towering over you on the bed. "You like that, don't you?" he growls, his voice low and husky. "Getting manhandled, treated like a dirty little slut." Chris's eyes flick up to your face, expecting you to protest but seeing a spark of arousal instead, a small smirk tugs at the corner of his lips. He reaches out and rubs his hand over your wetness, grinning at your gasp again. "I love that I can make you gasp, make you lose control, make you fucking horny as hell because of me." Chris's hands cup your breasts, squeezing them roughly as he leans down to capture a nipple between his teeth. He bites down hard, tugging and releasing the sensitive bud. "You're already so wet for me, dirty girl," he teases before bringing his fingers to his mouth and sucking them clean.

You whine at his actions. Your pussy clenching around nothing.

Chris groans at your whine, feeling his cock harden in his pants. His teasing fingers, now wet with the taste of your desire, trace down your thigh. "Look at how impatient you are, already whining and clenching with need," He moves between your legs, and his fingers trace your needy pussy lips, teasingly rubbing your clit in slow circles. "You like that, don't you?" he taunts, rubbing his finger against your clit. "You're so fucking wet and empty.” He stops his movements and walks over to your drawer.

You whine and frown your eyebrows as he suddenly stops. “What are you doing?” You ask.

Chris smirks, finding your whine and frown adorable, like a petulant child begging for attention. He chuckles at your reaction. He continues to dig around in your drawer, looking for something, though he won't tell you what. Finally, he holds up a pink vibrator. “I was looking for something so I can tease your wet pussy as long as I want." he replies, holding up the vibrator for you to see. His eyes stay on your face, watching your expression intensely as he flicks it on and off.

You look at your vibrator in his hands and you feel your self getting wetter. “Ho- how did you know that was there?”

Chris smirks at your reaction, enjoying how flustered and turned on he can get you. "I think you underestimate me.” He moves back over to the bed, letting the vibrator trail lightly over your bare thighs. Your body's reaction to the toy in his hands makes Chris chuckle, his eyes glinting with an amused and lust-filled gaze. "I have my ways, dirty girl," he smirks, bringing the pink vibrator towards your dripping wet pussy.

“Mmh fuck” you moan.

Chris's smirk widens at your dirty mouth, feeling his own cock twitch in his pants at how much you want him. He moves the vibrator towards your clit, tracing it lightly and teasingly. "You like that, dirty whore?" You moan and nod. "Fuck, you're soaked." he growls, rubbing the tip of the vibrator over your clit, making you whine and writhe in need.

“Mmhp Chris” you moan as your head leans back.

Chris grins at your submission, feeling a surge of power and desire. He watches your head fall back, a low groan escaping his own lips at the sight of your pleasure. Hearing his name moaned from your lips only makes him more crazy for you, his own cock painfully hard and swollen in his pants. He continues to tease your clit with the vibrator, moving it in slow, deliberate circles. His free hand moves to your breast, squeezing and pinching your nipple roughly. "You like that, you needy little slut?"

“Fuck yes Chris”

The dirty talk only fuels Chris's desire for you further, his swollen cock twitching in his pants. "Fuck, yes you do." Chris groans back, pinching your nipple tighter and quickening the pace of the vibrator on your clit. “You don’t get to cum until I tell you to.”

You whine. “W-what?”

Chris grins sadistically at your whimper as he slows down the vibrator again, his free hand moving from your breast to grip your throat lightly. "I said no cumming until I give you permission, slut," He growls. "You'll take what I give you and beg for more." Chris pulls the vibrator away from your needy clit, making you whine in protest. "I control when you cum, not the other way around. Now begging for it." He commands.

“Chris mmh please” you beg.

Chris smirks wickedly at your begging, his cock throbbing in response to your pleading voice. "You want this, slut?" he asks teasingly, brushing the tip of the vibrator over your clit again, earning him a loud whine. "mmh fuck” you moan. Chris sees your eyes glazed with need and desire, and he knows he has you right where he wants you.

He moves the vibrator in slow, deliberate circles around your clit. "Beg for it, slut." He demands again, his voice low and husky. Chris grins in satisfaction as he feels your body tensing up, ready to explode. He pulls the vibrator away from your clit again, just as you were about to cum. "I didn't say you could cum yet." He says firmly, enjoying the sight of your frustration.

“Mmhp Chris mmh fuck please” you desperately beg.

Chris chuckles darkly at your desperation, his own cock twitching in his pants. He can see how much you want this, and he loves it. "Do you think you deserve to cum, slut?" He taunts, brushing the vibrator against your clit again.

“Ahhh fuck” you moan.

"Such a greedy little slut," He teases, pinching your clit between the vibrator and his thumb, making you buck and moan. then he brings back the vibrator to your clit and applying more pressure.

You’re feeling too much pleasure and cant take it anymore so you cum.

Chris's eyes widen slightly in surprise as you climax, your body shaking and convulsing with pleasure under his touch. "Fucking slut. Did I say you could cum?" he growls, keeping the vibrator pressed against your still-sensitized clit, drawing out your orgasm for as long as he can.

Chris smirks at you, satisfied with making you cum and also making you break his rules. Chris abruptly pulls the vibrator away from your oversensitive clit. He throws the device onto the nightstand, the vibrations dying out. Chris smirks at your lack of response. "Slutty little girl, didn't I ask you a question?" He grabs you by your throat.

“I-.. Chris im sorry… I just couldn’t… I cou-”

Chris squeezes your throat tighter, cutting off your words. "I didn't ask for excuses, slut" Chris growls out, squeezing your throat as he leans in closer, his lips brushing against your ear, his breath warm against your skin. "Couldn't control yourself? Couldn't do as you were told?" His hand goes down to your drenched pussy. "Look at the mess you made."

“Mmh I’m so sorry Chris” you say.

Chris tightens his grip around your throat, his fingers digging into your flesh. "You should be sorry, slut. You disobeyed me," he hisses, his other hand roughly spreading your pussy lips apart to inspect the mess you made. Chris releases your throat and grabs a hold of your chin, forcing you to look him in the eye. He sees the regret in your eyes he smiles evilly. "You know what happens when you don't do as you're told? You get punished."

As you are about to say something, Chris says “On all fours, slut”

He pushes you onto your hands and knees, forcing your back arched and presenting your ass to him. “Count.” He roughly says before spanking you in the ass.

You feel a sting of pain as he does that. “Ahhh… one” you barely say.

Chris smirks as he delivers another stinging slap to your ass. "Two," he counts out, his palm landing with a loud crack on your vulnerable flesh. He continues this rhythm, each spank more forceful than the last, his anger simmering beneath the surface. "Three, four, five.”

He stops spanking you, leaning down to whisper in your ear. "Feeling the burn, slut?" He continues to speak but his tone becomes aggressive, "You need something to focus on besides the pain? How about my thick cock slamming into that wet cunt of yours?

“Mhm please Chris.” You eagerly nod.

He takes your desperation and grins at you, standing up once again. He guides his cock to the entrance of your needy hole, pushing inside with a sharp groan. He begins to thrust rapidly, taking all the force and aggression out on your body as he slams into you again and again.

“Oh fuck Chris” you moan.

Chris grips your hips tightly, driving into you so hard that each thrust sends a wave of pleasure and pain through your entire body. You can hear the sound of skin slapping against skin as he continues to rut into you like an animal. "That's it, whore. Take all of me," He slams into you harder as he picks up speed. Chris reaches around and pinches your clit, rubbing it in time with his relentless thrusts.

“Mmhp Chris Im going to cum”

He smirks when he hears you, clearly on the edge of release. "Cum for me, bitch." He demands, slamming his hips against yours as his fingers continue to rub at your tight little clit.

“Mmh oh my god” you scream as you cum.

Chris grunts as he feels your walls clench around him, your orgasm milking his cock. He thrusts a few more times before burying himself deep inside you, his hot seed pumping into your spasming pussy. He stays buried inside for a few moments before pulling out, his cum dripping down your thighs. "Oh fuck, yeah”

You fall on the bed tired from your previous orgasms.

Chris chuckles as he watches you collapse onto the bed, finally spent from his aggressive fucking. He admires the sight of his cum leaking from your pussy and smirks. He smirks and gives his cock a few more experimental thrusts, still hard after making you orgasm so many times. He walks over to the bed and pulls you up to sit against the headboard, his hard cock still out and dripping with your juices. He grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him. "Hope you don’t think we’re done here.”

“What?… Chris I-”

Chris cuts you off with a rough kiss, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth as he continues to hold your chin in his dominant grip. His other hand sneaks down to your aching, abused pussy, a finger slipping inside to tease your sensitive insides. When he breaks the kiss, he pulls back and smirks at you, his eyes dark with desire. "You didn't think you were getting out of here that easy, did you? Not after what you did tonight." He moves you further into the bed and sits next to you, his head against the headboard. “Come ride me, slut.”

Chris's gaze never leaves yours as he waits for you to comply. He gives your pussy another teasing stroke with his finger, making sure you know he's not done playing with you yet. "Get on top, whore. I want to see that tight little cunt of yours wrapped around my cock again."

You sit up and barely got on his lap because of how weak your legs are.

Chris smirks as you struggle to obey his command, your legs weak from all the orgasms he's given you. He takes full advantage of your weakened state, grabbing you around the waist and lifting you up to straddle his lap. He grabs your hips, sliding you onto his cock with a groan. "Fuck, just like that.”

“Oh fuck Chris.” You let out a whiny moan feeling overstimulated.

Chris chuckles darkly at your whiny moan, clearly enjoying how overstimulated you are. He holds your hips firmly, guiding you up and down his thick cock. "You like that, don't you, slut? Feeling stuffed full of my cock."

“Mmhp mmh” your mind can’t even puzzle any words to say.

Chris laughs at your incoherent moans, clearly pleased with the effect he's having on you. He picks up the pace, thrusting harder and faster as he holds your hips in a vice-like grip. "Take it, whore. Take every inch of my cock like a good little slut."

“Ahhh Mmhp Chris I.. I can’t.” You moan. “Fuck im going to cum” you let out.

Chris smirks as he hears you moaning his name and begging for release. He thrusts harder and faster, determined to make you explode with pleasure again. "You're gonna cum for me again, aren't you, slut? Say my name as you cum all over my cock."

“Mmhp Chris ahh” you cum.

Chris feels your pussy clench around his cock as you cum, your juices gushing out to coat his shaft. He groans at the sensation, his own orgasm building rapidly. "Fuck, that's it, cum all over my cock like the dirty little slut you are."

Your head falls onto his shoulder, feeling overstimulated and tired.

Chris chuckles at your tired and overstimulated state. "You think you're done, huh? He smirks, still rock-hard inside you.

“Chris… im tired” you say

“Tired, mh?” He smirks and lets go of your hips. “Go ahead and get up. Slut” he says.

Feeling overstimulated and weak, you start to pull yourself up.

Just as the tip your tight pussy he slams you back down again.

You let out a scream feeling a jolt through your body.

Chris laughs at the scream, clearly enjoying your shock and pain mixed with pleasure. "That's right, scream for me, whore." He grunts, picking up the pace again. "I said take every inch of my cock like a good little slut." He thrusts his hips harder, plunging his dick deeper into your needy hole. “I'll show you what it truly means to be overstimulated, slut."

You let out whines and moans of pain and pleasure, your brain barely functioning anymore. You feel yourself close after 5 seconds. “Ahh Mmhp I-“ you squirt all over his cock.

Chris grunts as he still pounds into you, feeling you spasm around his cock, your juices spilling out over his shaft as you squirt again and again,feeling overloaded and overwhelmed. "Fuck, take it all, you dirty cum-slut," With a deep groan, he buries himself to the hilt inside you and erupts, flooding your insides with his hot cum. “Get off already, slut.”

Again you start to pull your self up, and again he slams you down.

Chris smirks at you, slamming you down on his length again and again. "Just stay down there, slut. Stay juicy around my dick." Chris smirks. He's so turned on right now, he won't even leave you a moment to recover. His hands hold your hips still being deep balls inside you. “Oh fuck.” Chris growls low and dark as his cock twitches with each spurt of cum he fires into your pussy, making sure you take every last drop before pulling out, smacking your ass again.

You let out a final moan and fall onto the bed.

Chris watches as you fall back onto the bed, spent and exhausted from the relentless pounding. He smirks, feeling a sense of satisfaction at having taken you to the edge and beyond. “I hope it’s clear who you belong to.” He leans in and grabs your jaw. “You belong to me and only me. Got it?”

You nod in response feeling exhausted.

Chris gives your face a rough, possessive kiss before pulling away. He looks down at your body, still splayed out on the sheets with his cum leaking out of your used pussy. “And know you know. Every time you try to forget who l am…I'll be right there to remind you again.”

With that said pulls the bed covers over you letting you pass out. He walks to the bathroom grabbing some towels. He comes back and cleans you. Once he’s done he gives you a small forehead kiss and whispers “all mine” with a smile. He lays on the bed next to you and cuddling you up. And falls asleep…

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TYSM for 250 followers!! I’m sooo so happy and grateful ❤️

Hope you guys like this fic! This is my first Chris fic! And also first request I do

Also Ty ❤️ for 400 notes on my fic “that’s what friends are for” 💕

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Taglist: @mattstromboli @gwennysturniolo @edgemaster696 @sturnfannn @mgomez2011 @leahsbussy @xoxohlala @stvrnioloxz

(I tried tagging all that commented but idk why when I put the usernames it says ‘no blogs found’ :( sorry)

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[wntrswolf]

love mirage

✧ pair: benjicot "davos" blackwood (fancast) x freader!secret-lover-betrothed-to-a-bracken

✧ theme/warning(s): slight/implied smut, angst, forbidden romance, star-crossed lovers. — (all characters mentioned are of age!) 18+

✧ word count: 1.8k

✧ author's note: hello! this is my first writing! this one-shot was spontaneously written as it was meant more for self-indulgence but i thought why not share it to others who also has a current obsession with the rising blackwood character, right? :-) anyways, reading fics under the benji tags manifested many scenarios in my head, and gave me inspiration to write something. lastly, forgive me for any possible grammatical errors, i still am an amateur in fictional writing. enjoy!!!

It was the dead of night. The sky had been painted in its darkest hue, the moon stood nearly at its peak, offering its gentle glow along the riverbank. The distant chatter that could be heard during a long day's labor was no longer present, replaced by the solemn silence of nature's symphonies—the flowing river, the rustling of leaves as they danced in breaths of wind, and the lullabies of insects as they clicked and buzzed.

The forest was no stranger to you; befriending the woodland for the passing moons. You often wondered if anyone would, or had, grown an inkling of your periodic disappearance following the hours of supper—what others would think of your father’s only daughter growing a rather sudden interest beyond the walls of your family's stronghold. You always made your way out stealthily, though his words echoed in your mind,

“You are our only hope, daughter. Do not fail us.” A stark reminder of your duty, which would soon bring honor to your family's name.

If it means anything, you knew it was wrong from the start. You had never intended anything as such to happen. For the name of a nobleman was bound to yours, yet your lips would chant whispers of another.

Time became irrelevant right before you met him on this cool summer night. There the young man stood, one hand steady on the hilt of his dagger, ever vigilant should danger lurk in the tranquil embrace of the silent woods; his tense body relaxing upon the sight of your cloaked figure before him—a beacon of familiarity. You had planned to tell him about your betrothal tonight.

Although it was not much longer that you would find yourself a whimpering mess under the Blackwood boy. Your sighs mingled with the saccharine words Benjicot spoke, adding harmonies of moans and gasps of pleasure in the serenity of the haven you both made. You often feared getting caught but Benji assured you in these remote lands, he doubted anyone would be near enough to witness anything— not even the treacherous act you both selfishly indulged in. You still pray to the Gods that they grant you both the favor that no eye spies this clandestine meeting; and the many before.

You never really questioned yourself on why you couldn't confide in your father about your betrothal; had you already envisioned the conversation—mayhem would ensue. It was simple, it was the decision he made—securing your family's position through a marriage pact, a political alliance they called it. Duty, you thought yet again.

You didn't know what, or whom, to shift the blame on—or maybe it was the complexities of guilt. your guilt. You knew the inevitable, yet your selfishness, your greed, your immature desire for love; tainting your rationale. Or that maybe you should feel resentment that your father and the Lord of Stone Hedge, Humfrey Bracken regarded their relationship as close as to being kin. Maybe then you would have the strength to ignore your obligations, this once.

You cursed yourself for thinking the way you did, and you cursed the Gods for the decades-old rivarly between the ancient houses—a hatred and feud born long before either of you were born; beyond your father's time, and his father's before him, yet its roots grew, multiplying the petty divide among those that followed after them.

It made you question what started the war between the two in the first place, as sin begets sin begets sin; however, unwavering was the tryst between you and Benjicot—untouched by the strife and grudges.

He knew. You were aware of his knowledge with the woven webs you had with the Brackens; about your father's bond with the red stallion lord. Your thoughts do not come to a plausible explanation as they endlessly spun in your mind.

And all it took was Benjicot's hips to lower into yours, silencing these whirling thoughts.

Your cloak drapes over you, offering its warmth from the breaths of wind, coming from the riverbank. It spared the watchful eyes of the forest spirits from your unneeded bareness. At your side, Benjicot lays as he adjusts his breeches.

“There’s a war soon to come,” he says as he stares at the sky, hands behind his head, ”And I ought for you to know that given the growing wars, you have not left my mind since.” he nervously confessed.

You hum in response, the weight of his words settling heavily in the quiet of the forest. "I fear what lies ahead, Ben" you whisper, your voice barely above a murmur, filled with both longing and apprehension.

He turns to you then, his gaze searching yours with an intensity that spoke of unspoken promises and uncertainties. "No matter what comes, my love for you will endure." he vows, his fingers gently tracing the contour of your cheek.

You turn your head and sit up, feeling around for your discarded garments to dress.

"Did I say something wrong?" he asks, sitting up, his expression betraying confusion at your abrupt reaction. 

"No, it's not that." you breathed out, your back faced to him. It was this very moment you had feared since the first: the inevitable.

"Well, did you not finish as I had?" he ventured in jest, a playful side of him that you loved. "Or is it because I professed my love for you?", hoping his declaration had not caused you to pull away. "Trust me, I will make sure there's nothing—"

"My betrothal..." you did not let him finish, "it's to Aeron Bracken." you said, still facing away from him as you rose from the ground. You picked on your fingers picked in nervousness of his next response. The weight of your confession hung heavy in the air.

At first he thought he had not heard you clearly, as if the world had gotten awfully quiet. It was when you repeated once more, realizing his ears did not fail him as his blood got hot—of you saying the name whom ignited an unexplainable fury in him.

"Aeron Bracken," Benjicot repeated in disbelief of your sudden confession, "The Bracken twat, eh?" — the very same Bracken he encountered in fresh conflict, near the mill's boundary stones. Although he did not show it, the tension in the air was strong enough to burn and linger its flames; his knuckles turning pale as he clenched his fists at his side.

"A craven false king follower... is bound to your name, to you." he chuckles incredulously. 

He paced in the clearing, his footsteps heavy as he turned to you. "And what are you to do about it?" He posed the question, pain plain upon his face, though hope bled through the mask of his composure. Deep down, he already knew the answer. He could scare tell if asking you such question was to self-inflict torment, or just a desperate need to face the harsh reality of your confession— not a difference between the two really.

You finally turned to meet his gaze, "It's my father's decision," you explained softly. "I... I cannot defy it." You stood before him, as your tears glisten in the faint light. Torn between love and duty.

"Ben," you pleaded, your voice shaking. "You know the stakes. It’s my duty. My family's honor—” 

"Fuck honor!" he interrupted, his voice thundering through the forest. He strides towards you, "It was long gone the very moment we first met—" he huffed out. He knew in his heart that despite the love he developed towards you, the tangled web of your kinship with the Brackens would soon unravel the bond you shared— still, he gambled with the odds, just as you had.

He had ever hoped that the old Gods would bestow the blessing of his fervent wishes—that it would be you, not some other maiden, whom he would take to wife. He often dreamed of you bearing the heirs of his house, growing gray together, and watch as your blood flow through the veins that would carry on his legacy. Yet, it was only ever a distant dream.

You reached out to him, to calm the storm raging within him, but he jerked away. "Tell me, then," he challenged, stepping closer with fire in his eyes. "Where do your loyalties lie, beyond this," he motioned between the two of you. "Are you suggesting that your father, and even yourself, are to declare for the usurper cunt of a King?" he whisper-yells to you. “Or is this some sort of arrangement with those Bracken fucks, to get back at us Blackwoods, simply just using me as a pawn, 'cus you know I'm now Lord?" His words spitting at you like venom;

“Oh, you know where my loyalties lie," you spat, your voice filled with heartache, "But I won't stand for you questioning my integrity nor my family's honor to secure a future." You glared at him as your heart stung with hurt, "And to accuse me... I would not dare to commit something so heinous even if i could; I'm not cruel, Benji."

Benjicot's jaw clenched, shaking his head as he stood facing the river, incomprehensible words muttered under his breath.

"I never asked for this," you whispered, tears welling in your eyes. "But I have responsibilities. We both do." you sniffled, swallowing the tension of your throat away, "And I know you know..." you wiped your tears, "we know... that this was bound to occur, sooner or later, Ben." your voice was barely audible, even with the deafening silence the forest came to be. "There's a war coming."

The silence hung heavy in the air, thick with unspoken words and the weight of impossible choices.

Benjicot stood before you, his expression torn between love and anguish. His hands trembled as he gathered his scattered belongings, his movements reflecting the turmoil in his heart. You mirrored his actions, silently picking the remnants of what you felt is to be your last fleeting moment of happiness.

"I swear it," he finally spoke, "would that we were not bound by the enmity between our folks, I would have already vowed myself to you. Long before your father would have you promised to another."

His words pierced your heart with longing and regret, the bitter truth of your circumstances hanging between you like a veil of sorrow. “And I would have gladly accepted it,” you replied with a heavy sigh. "—my Lord."

The Blackwood male nodded, his gaze fixed on yours, filled with a depth of emotion that mirrored your own. With a heavy heart, you both silently acknowledged the futility of your love.

Benjicot turned away first. The distance between you both grew; and his silhouette became one with the dark forest.

You knew that somewhere, amidst the pain and heartache, you would find a way to carry on—a life of uncertainty but fraught with duty. As you walked away from the happiness and love that the forest had given you, the ache in your chest spoke of a love that was lost but will never be forgotten. It would be a bittersweet reminder of what once was, and what could never be again.

[ilylovelyz]

⍣ ೋ climbing up the walls

˚ · . kuroo tetsurou x afab!reader

: ̗̀➛ semi-public sex, groping, slapping, degradation, slight choking, unprotected sex, dumbifcation, hair pulling

you bite harshly into the cotton that's stuffed into your mouth. it's your own panties, forced to have them there in order to conceal your lewd moans and mewls. you don't want to get caught after all, being caught having sex in the boy's locker room will definitely get the two of you in trouble, especially kuroo.

kuroo's hands spread and caress your plump asscheeks like dough, occasionally slapping the sensitive flesh for his own amusement, he spreads them apart, cock twitching at the sight of your untouched asshole. he'll have to take your virginity there too someday.

he grins mischievously, drops of sweat dropping from his chin down to the uncleaned tile beneath you. he angles his hip upwards, his cockhead flush against your delicate g-spot. a muffled moan escapes from your stuffed mouth, shushed by kuroo as he wraps a hand around your neck.

"shh, babe. you don't want anything to hear you being such a slut in a locker room now do you?" he casually says as he fucks his cock into your tight pussy. his fingers rest on your neck, feeling the vibrations of your low moans.

"or do you? y-you like being a little slut don't you?" he groans at his own words, his other hand coming to grope your free breasts, pinching roughly at your sensitive buds. your own hands are glued onto the cold walls, attempting to grab and ground yourself on anything you can.

he takes advantage of your silence, his hand releasing his grip on your neck to wrapping around the ends of your pretty hair and pulling it backwards. pushing himself forward, his chest becomes flush with your back, his cock sheathened in your confulsving pussy to the base. it's stuffing you full, his cockhead kissing the entrance and pushing against your cervix.

you cum at the feeling, you feel like you can't breathe, his cock painfully pushes against your cervix, as if he's trying to break through. "answer me whore." he says sternly, angling his face so he can lick the tears of pleasure off your cheek. he feigns a scoff at your silence, "too dumb to even respond."

with that, he's jackhammering his cock against your cervix, all previous touches of gentleness is disregarded with the way he's fucking you so vulgarly. "i'm gunna c-cum y/n-" he stammers, leaning his body weight against you as he fails to hold himself up.

he steals kisses onto your neck and jaw, his other hand gripping onto your lower tummy. "i wanna cum inside—fuck," he cries out, his hips loosing rhythm as he comes on the verge of his orgasm. with a simple weak nod of approval from you, he's coming with a gutteral groan as he spills his warm load inside of your unprotected cunt.

"hah, shit.." he curses, heaving heavily from the intense orgasm he's recovering from. once he feels more stronger, he's pulling your panties from your mouth, unfolding them and sliding them back up your damp thighs. he fixes up the rest of your clothes before he finally pulls up the shorts of his uniform and embraces you into a hug, settling you down onto the bench with a kiss to your earlobe.

"i love you," he reminds, leaving the embrace to attend his volleyball match.

please like and repost with tags

[re-ikrmso]

bruh what is wrong with me rn my main current thought is ‘i cant take this anymore’ like

take what??? take having no BITCHES? i can take that.

but damn. why i gotta be like this. what is making me fee like thsi

okay i know and if i thought about it id find why but im just . tired.

dont worry about me im just putting thoughts down, if i didnt i think id explode and leave my thoughts splattered over my desk haha. 

[starlost97]

— forgiveness.

summary: After a fight, you decided that the best way to punish Arthur was simply not talking. He couldn't, however, take it any longer after seeing you in a silk red dress.

tags: silent treatment, not really fluff but not really angst, kind of sexual, he begs, Arthur is a simp, f!reader.

characters: Arthur Leclerc.

warnings: reader wears a dress, reader is referred to as "sweet girl".

a/n: the first shortfic to a series of formula 1 one shots! me and my friend did this thing where we write things of our favorite drivers to one another and I decided to post some (a lot) of them. hope u enjoy it! this one's prompt is "wearing a revealing dress while giving them the silent treatment". also, the next one will probably be either a Jenson Button one or a Max Verstappen one!

word count: 342.

requested?: yes! by a friend.

Arthur never regretted something more in his entire life.

Sure, right after raising his voice in his argument with you he already felt like the worst boyfriend ever. You two were discussing his crappy time management skills and since he was already stressed, he ended up telling you to shut up.

And he regretted that terribly.

He had given you apology letters, perfumed them with his cologne — which you once told him was one of your favorite scents — and left them on your nightstand. But that didn’t seem to help much — even though he caught you smiling to one of them one day.

He was already hopeless by day two. He didn’t even know what to do anymore.

But when he saw you with that silky red dress, it was inevitable.

His knees failed him — thank God they did —, and soon enough he was crawling to you, putting his hands on your thighs.

“Baby, please.” He shamelessly begged. He didn’t know how long he could endure this torture anymore. “I might actually go insane without hearing your voice, mon amour.”

His eyes got lost in the way the silk hugged your body. The soft cloth moved around your waist freely, cruelly reminding him of your smooth skin underneath it, making him desperate. Desperate for your body, for your touch, for your sweet whispers against his ear.

“You know I don't mind begging you, don’t you, sweet girl?” Arthur asked, looking up at you. He grabbed your hand, kissing your palm, then wrist, then arm. Slowly, he reached your ear. “I beg you to tell me what I have to do to earn your forgiveness. I’ll do anything, darling. Anything.” He whispers. His desperation was palpable enough for you to touch. “You have me entirely to you, and that means that I’ll do as you wish. So please, baby, tell me how I can show you how much I regret saying those things.”

In the end, Arthur showed how sorry he was.

And how thankful he felt to earn your so desperately desired forgiveness.

[too-deviant]

jackie and wilson.

previous | next masterlist

pairing: luke castellan x unclaimed!reader

summary: you haven't been given a quest, but you have made it your personal mission to make luke castellan smile

word count: 5.3k

content: fluffff, loser!reader, happy!luke if you squint and a sprinkle of loser!luke, brief mentions of suicide but nothing heavy, we finally find out which state reader is from

notes: this is so cute i love them.

PART III — she’s gonna save me, call me ‘baby’, run her hands through my hair

Wading through a misty green lake with Luke Castellan was not on your camp bucket list — something you’d produced with a young girl called Silena who you’d met in the arts and crafts cabin — but alas, here you were; knee deep in pond water and ankle deep in whatever sludge lived at the bottom, hands searching blindly along the floor while you tried your best to keep your chin dry. 

You probably wouldn’t have been there if you were any good at Volleyball — which really doesn’t make much sense with the given context. 

Okay, here’s what happened. It was Saturday at camp halfblood — and while you had been there for a solid three days now, you were yet to experience the joy of the weekends. Not that you knew they were any different, not until Travis Stoll approached you after breakfast. 

“Heyyyy, uh...newbie.” He chuckled, sidling up beside you while you were occupied with deciding whether your camp shirt was better tucked into your shorts or left hanging over them. 

You turned to the boy with an amused smile, reminding him of your name. He snapped his fingers at you, “I knew that. I did. I just prefer newbie.”

“What’s up, Travis?”

He dropped his finger guns, rocking back and forth on his feet and looking at you sheepishly, “Well, me and a few friends were gonna chuck a ball around on the beach and we need an extra player to make it even. Now that Luke’s not an option.” 

He muttered that last bit low and under his breath, not in hopes that you wouldn’t hear but in hopes that Luke wouldn’t — there was no telling how far he was from you at any given moment, but he wasn’t going to tell you that, so he just put on his charming Stoll Smile and said, “So, wanna join us?” 

You didn’t have anything to do that day, and since you’d assumed you were in for another long eight hours of finding out what you were good at and failing, a friendly game of ball (which you were safe to assume was volley, per what Luke told you yesterday) seemed like a great idea. 

Only it wasn’t — friendly, that is. You wandered over to the net set up on the beach with Travis at your side and a taller girl with curly blonde hair narrowed her eyes at you in suspicion, “How good are you at this?” 

“Uh —“ You shrugged, shaking your head slightly, “I’ve never played. We don’t have many beaches where I’m from.” 

“You don’t need a beach to play volleyball, newbie.” Connor Stoll appeared out of nowhere, grinning at you, “But it’s easy to pick up. You can be on our team.”

Their team consisted of Connor, Chris, Poppy from the Demeter cabin, Evie and Evan (twins from the Ares cabin) and now, yourself. Apparently it was a lost cause whenever the Stolls were on the same team, so Travis was on the other side of the net with the blonde girl from earlier — who’s name you’d learnt was Sabine, and who’s godly parent was Nike, which did not decrease your nerves even a little bit. 

“It’s pretty simple once you get the hang of it.” Evie explained to you once she noticed your unsure eyes. “Just don’t hit the ball twice in a row, Sab’s a stickler for that rule.” 

“Other than that, we’re pretty lax.” Her brother tagged on, smirking at you, “This isn’t the Olympics.” 

“Tell her that.” You side eyed the blonde on the other side of the net, who was cracking her knuckles and discussing strategy with Travis and Brynn, an Athena kid with a bright blue buzzcut. 

The twins let out identical chuckles, sharing a look before patting your shoulders, “You’ll be fine.” 

You didn’t have time to quip that the pair of them talking at the same time was a little foreboding before the game was on, and a volleyball was heading straight for you. 

To be fair to you, you lasted longer than expected. Maybe it was your battle instincts kicking in, but you hadn’t missed the ball once — sure, your defence lacked any real strategy and was more you hitting the ball in whatever direction and hoping for the best, but it was working, so why complain? You wouldn’t qualify for varsity, but at least you were one upping a Stoll brother — the same couldn’t be said for most campers, you knew that much. 

You actually thought you were getting pretty good, too. Your team was up by a few points (no thanks to you, all thanks to Evan. Seriously, he was like six foot four) and Sabine was getting angry. Every now and then she’d turn and scowl at Rhea, one of her teammates, and the girl would just shrug in response before returning to her position. But then, just when you started to get confident with it, Travis got you. 

Hard, too. You were paying close attention to your feet, making sure you didn’t trip over any sand when you had to move, and unfortunately didn’t notice the ball coming at you until it clipped you in the face. You went down onto your ass, both hands flying to your nose and groaning when you felt a warm trickle of blood slide through your fingers and down your hands. 

“Holy shit, newbie.” Travis sped over, dropping to his knees next to his brother and hovering over you, “I am so sorry, are you okay?” 

Your speech was muffled and nasally when you replied with a swift, “No, asshole!”

“Shit.” He muttered, looking between Connor and Evie, “Uh, I can take you to the infirmary if you want —“

“I’ll take her.” Evan interrupted. He was crouched somewhere behind you, looking at your teammates over the top of your head. You felt his hands flatten on your back as he pushed you up to stand, the rest of the group joining him and wincing when some blood dripped onto the sand. 

“It’s okay, you don’t have to —“ You held out a hand in his direction now that you could see him, only to press it firmly back against your face when your nose simply started to gush once the pressure had been removed. 

“Yes,” He nodded, “I do. Let’s go.” 

You let him lead you, sending an apologetic look to the remaining teens on the sand — you were pretty sure it looked nothing like an apology since your hands were covering half of your face and there was blood seeping through your fingers, but it was the effort that counted. 

You didn’t receive as many looks as you thought you would’ve on the walk to the infirmary, although you assumed demigods had gotten worse injuries than a nosebleed before, so it wasn’t exactly odd. When you got there, you stopped on the porch and tried to speak to Evan as best you could without letting any more blood spill. 

“You can — you can go.” You said through your hands, “I got it from here.”

He looked a little unsure, but you nodded firmly and he turned back the way he came. It was pretty embarrassing, walking into the infirmary with a bloody nose on your third day at camp, but the Apollo kid who took care of you said it was only a matter of time before you shed first blood, and that you’d better thank the gods it was a volleyball and not a hellhound that did the damage. 

They stopped the bleeding with some sort of special gauze and told you to be a little more careful before sending you on your way — which was when you found Luke. 

You didn’t even see him at first, more focused on folding the gauze you’d been given into a perfect square while you stepped off the wooden porch. But then a voice muttered your name in slight shock and confusion, and you looked up to meet those baby brown eyes you couldn’t help but love. 

You grinned, “JoJo.”

Luke shook his head, “What were you doing in the infirmary?” His eyes tracked all over you, assessing for any visible injuries. When he found none, he turned his questioning gaze back to your face. 

You sucked in some air through your teeth, embarrassed, “I, uh, got hit in the face with a volleyball. Turns out, I’m awful at it.” You let out a weak chuckle, and Luke rolled his eyes in amusement. 

“Of course. I thought baseball was your thing?” 

“It is.” You nodded, “But there’s nobody out here to play with, so…” Then an idea sprung, and your face lit up so visibly that Luke took a tentative step back, “Hey, why don’t you come watch? We’re playing on the beach.”

“Oh.” The boy paused, eyes sliding to the beach and back to you, “I don’t think so…I, uh, tend to spend my weekends alone.”

“You spend your everything alone.” You pointed out with a raised pair of brows. He pursed his lips. You sighed, “Come on. You don’t have to play.”

He looked as if he was thinking about it, and your hopes were raised a little. You liked Luke, you wanted to know him better and one day consider him a friend rather than a guy you harassed every day. But you were very aware of his aversion for all things social — the comment Travis made about Luke not playing with them anymore saddened you, and it pained you to imagine Luke all alone while his brothers and friends still had fun around him. But then his face dropped, and so did yours, Luke shaking his head no. 

“I just…” He shrugged, “I don’t really…”

“It’s okay.” You interrupted before he could spout out his excuse. He didn’t need one. “We can do something else.”

“Oh, I —“ Another shake of the head, “You go back to them, don’t let me ruin it.”

“You aren’t ruining anything.” You said plainly, and you thought that those four words hit Luke a lot harder than expected, because he had this pensive look on his face that didn’t fade until you spoke again, “Listen, I know baseball isn’t exactly a camp sport, but I’ve got a ball. This place has gotta have bats — I mean, if it’s got swords, it’s got bats, right? So we grab them, we go off somewhere and take turns batting. I need to stay in practice anyway, if I’m gonna make varsity.”

You sent him your shiniest smile paired with some doughy eyes, and after squinting at you for a solid ten seconds, Luke agreed to your idea with a hesitant nod. You weren’t exactly expecting him to jump up and down in joy, so you took the liberty of doing that before asking him, very enthusiastically (because if you stayed positive, maybe it would rub off on him), to go look for a bat while you grabbed your ball. 

Chris caught you exiting the Hermes cabin while he was filling up his water bottle using the outdoor tap not far from the porch, asking you what you were doing with a baseball. You explained that volleyball was definitely not your thing and ignored his chuckle of agreement in favour of informing him that you would be teaching Luke how to become the next Babe Ruth. He raised a brow. 

“Really?”

“Uh, yeah.” You replied, a little put off by his reaction. “Is that a problem?” 

“No, no.” He backtracked quickly, hands raised and water sloshing around his bottle as the movement, “I just…I dunno. Luke’s been a little off recently. If I were you, I wouldn’t meddle in it.”

“Meddle?” You asked, shaking your head, “In what?”

“In his…” He puffed out his cheeks, trying to find the words, “His funk.” He shook his head then, eyes glossing over as he thought about it, “He failed his quest, he’s a little butthurt, but…he’ll get over it. Y’know?”

You didn’t know. 

“I just don’t think he needs babysitting.” He firmed, looking confident in his wording now that he’d found it, “He’s just gonna talk your ear off about how much he hates his life until you’re borderline suicidal. I wouldn’t bother, personally. He's a big boy, he can get over it.”

You rolled your lips over each other, staring blankly at Chris as he sent you a polite smile and walked back to the beach. Slowly, your eyes narrowed, and your brows pulled together. But you didn't say anything, you just turned around yourself and walked to where you’d asked Luke to meet you. 

He was tossing the bat between his hands when you got there, dropping it in his left when he spotted you and nodding, “Alright, where are we doing this?”

You stopped, snapped out of a stupor you didn’t even realise you were in and blinking at him. For the first time since you’d met, it seemed that he was more focused and lively than you were. It irked him a little bit, and he frowned, “Sunny?” 

“Sorry.” You responded immediately, shaking your head to rid yourself of your spiralling thoughts, “I just…uh, let’s go somewhere clear. We don’t wanna hit anyone with the ball.” 

Luke led you to a clearing in the woods, explaining that the wood nymphs would be able to help you if the ball got lost in the foliage, so there was no need to hold back the arm you’d been bragging about for the entire walk. You just smirked, raised the bat level, and nodded at him to serve. 

Yes, you were a thousand percent better at baseball than you were at volleyball. You knew that, of course, but it was nice to be reassured. Luke wasn’t half bad either, but you were also a really good runner, so you kept having to remind him that an average level fielder wouldn’t have a chance against his bats — you just so happened to be way above average. 

Plus the wood nymphs were very helpful — apparently they didn’t get to watch many demigod activities other than capture the flag so it was refreshing for them to see you two play, and to actually be able to help. 

All in all, you were having a great time. Which of course meant that you were long overdue for something going wrong. Of course. 

“I can’t find it.”

“What?” You asked breathlessly, staring at the tree nymph who shrugged at you plainly. 

“It rolled into a pond, I think.” He sniffed indignantly, “And I am not climbing into a pond.”

“Oh, and you expect us to?” 

And that, kids, is how you ended up knee deep in pond water and ankle deep in something else — with Luke Castellan right by your side. 

“This is so gross.” You whispered, grimacing as your hands ran over the murky bottom. You couldn’t see anything but your own reflection when you looked in, so you were replying on touch alone to help find your ball. “I can’t believe this. My lucky ball and it falls into a pond! Not so lucky anymore, huh? Yeah, lucky my ass.”

“Hey, Sunny?” A slosh of water rippled over you and you had to straighten up to avoid the tiny waves splashing in your face. They only increased at your movements, but you were too busy glaring at Luke to notice. He pressed his mouth together, holding in a chuckle, “You’re not being very sunny right now.” 

You huffed, flinging your arms out at your sides and wincing when you splashed water on yourself by doing so, “I —“ A huff, “I don’t feel very sunny, Castellan. I am wading in sludge.” 

He actually had the audacity to let a tiny grin slip through, “Wow, the last name? You’re acting like me right now. It’s weird.”

“I can’t believe this.” You repeated, narrowing your eyes at the boy, “I’ve been trying to cheer you up since the day I met you and when you finally do, it’s because you’re relishing in my pain? Fuck you.”

As if he was trying to piss you off, Luke laughed. He actually laughed, exactly like he had yesterday and if you weren’t so annoyed you’d be smiling at him for it. But you were annoyed, so all you did in response was send a wave of pond water at him and drench his front. 

He stopped laughing. You started laughing. 

“Okay, is that how you wanna play this?” He asked, stepping closer, “Is it?” 

You grinned, stepping back. The water moved when you did, and the paired struggle of your’s and Luke’s legs under the water just increased the waves that oscillated around your knees. It slid up to your thighs and threatened to wet the denim of your shorts, but you were too busy prying your foot out of whatever the hell lived at the bottom of the pond so you could escape Luke’s wrath. 

You shook your head, “You don’t wanna do this.”

He nodded mockingly, “I think I do.”

Then it was on. He lunged for you, and you dived to the left in a swift attempt to get around him. Water was splashing everywhere at this point but neither of you cared — especially when Luke’s hands were mere inches from your arms, waiting for your ankle to snag on some algae and pull you back so he could push you over. You were smarter than that though, so you did a swift one-eighty, dragging your hands under the water with you as you did — the wave that accumulated from the momentum doused Luke from head to toe, his curls sticking to his forehead. He wiped them away and blew hard from his mouth before forming a weak glare in your direction.   

Your jaw trembled as you held in what you knew would be some serious chortles — but it was silent. The only noise apparent was the settling of the waves now that you had both stopped moving and Luke’s heavy breathing in front of you. He shook his head, stepping forward slowly, and you braced yourself for what was about to come. 

“Hey!” 

You paused. You shared a look with Luke before looking confusedly at the form that had appeared suddenly between the two of you. It was a girl by the looks of it, only she was made entirely of the water the two of you were standing in. She glared between the pair of you, hands on her hips. 

“I don’t appreciate all this splashing.” You felt suddenly like you were being berated by a school teacher for talking too loud during class, “Are you trying to drain my pond? Are you?”

“N—No.” You responded, shaking your head, “We were just looking for — ”

The water nymph held up your ball with a stern expression, “This? Yeah, it looked like you were.” 

Her sarcasm was not lost on you, and you tried your best not to meet Luke’s eyes, knowing they would fail you the second you did. Instead you looked at the nymph before you and took the ball from her outstretched hand, “Thank you. And, um, sorry…about the splashing.”

She folded her arms, lifting her head and straightening her shoulders, “That’s okay. Now get out.”

You were both quick to exit the water, although not too quick that you made anymore of it splash onto the rocks. Once you were out, the nymph nodded in satisfaction and melted back into the pond, and you and Luke were finally able to breathe. Then, you both burst into laughter. 

“Oh my gods.” You huffed, shaking your head and looking down at yourself, “Did we just get into trouble?” 

“With a water nymph?” He finished, shrugging off his wet shirt and wringing it out, “Yeah. How embarrassing.”

Your mouth was suddenly very dry. You knew Luke was strong — he had to be to fight a dragon and come back alive. To be known as the Best Swordsman in Camp. To be trusted by so many campers despite his newfound, distanced demeanour. But damn. 

You blew out a long puff of air, hoping your reddened cheeks could be excused as some light sunburn. You weren’t as soaked as he was, but you still wafted your damp shirt from your body in hopes that it would dry — and also to give yourself something to do that wasn’t ogling at Luke’s lean figure. 

He spread his shirt out on a rock, ensuring the sun was hitting it right before lowering himself to the ground on the dry grass a few feet away. He leant back on his hands, face to the sky, and revelled in the warmth. You stayed standing, fiddling with the button on your shorts, staring at him. At the scar on his face, at the rest of them along his chest. 

He cracked one eye open, glancing at you, “What?”

“I, uh.” You licked your lips, “Nothing. Nothing.” You muttered, taking a seat beside him and crossing your legs. Your gaze stuck firmly to your lap and you waited for his to return to the sky. It didn’t. 

“You can ask me.” He said then, shrugging. 

“What happened on your quest?” You let slip, and when he stayed silent for a second too long, you realised that maybe that wasn't the question he was giving you permission to ask. “I’m sorry. I know it’s none of my business, it’s nobody’s really. But Chris told me before that you’re in a funk and that seemed like a gross understatement but then again I’ve known you for, what, three days? He’s known you for years, so surely he’s right. But you just seem like it’s more than a funk, and I don’t know what to believe because I don’t know what happened but I also don’t want to ask because it’s none of my business and it’s also very clearly a sore subject because of what happened with Dean. Not that I think you’re gonna fly off the handle or anything, but it’s definitely a touchy subject and I can’t just go demanding all the details just because I wanna be your friend and— ”

A hand over your mouth stopped you from continuing what Luke was sure to be a very long tangent. He looked at you, half in shock, half in amusement, and huffed out a laugh, “Sunny, you need to calm down.”

You couldn’t respond, but you did nod. He removed his hand slowly and you swallowed your embarrassment. Luke sat up fully, straightening his back and clearing his throat, “Uh, okay. Have you heard of that Hercules story? With the golden apples?” 

You nodded, afraid to speak in case you went off on a rant again. He nodded with you, “Yeah, well, my father sent me on that. The exact same quest…except I failed.”

That explained the scar, and the dragon story he’d mentioned very briefly yesterday. He started to go into a little more detail about his quest — and suddenly you were overcome with this…angry sort of sadness. 

Hermes sent Luke on a quest that had already been done. After hearing Clarisse yap your ear off about Kleos, you understood why he’d been a little bummed. Honestly, if it were you, you wouldn’t have even gone. What’s the point in doing a quest that’s already been done? But you didn’t say that to Luke, who seemed a little deep into his story. You just simmered in your irritation while he continued to explain his battle with Ladon, and his ultimate failure. 

“I refused to leave the infirmary for a week.” He chuckled, but it was a little sad. “I mean, I’m supposed to be a leader here, and I fail my first quest? Some demigod I turned out to be.” 

Without even thinking, you shook your head, “You didn’t fail.” Luke looked at you, confused, “You battled a dragon with a hundred heads and lived. That doesn’t sound like failure to me.”

“But I didn’t get the apples.” He explained. “I disappointed my father.”

“Your father…” You said slowly, unsure of how your next words would land, “Who I’m going to assume had never spoken to you until the day he gave you your quest?” Luke nodded after a brief pause and you took that as permission to continue, “So who cares if he’s disappointed? He clearly doesn’t care if you’re mauled by a dragon.” 

“Exactly.” Luke replied, brows pulled together in the way they had been when you’d first met. Angry, irritated. Disappointed. “Everyone keeps telling me to get over it. That demigods have failed quests before and it just means I need to try harder next time but…why should there be a next time? Really, if you sit and think about it for a second, why are we even here? To train, so we don’t die whenever monsters come and attack us? And who’s fault is that? Maybe if our parents were good people, there wouldn’t be any monsters trying to murder their kids. If they cared, even a little bit, they’d do more than just claim us and leave us to die!” 

He scoffed, looking in the direction where you knew the rest of the campers resided — playing games, building weapons, dedicating every waking hour to becoming the best of the best. And for what? For glory? For a pat on the back from a parent who can’t even be bothered to raise them? 

“They don’t get it.” He said then, turning back to you, “They think this is all okay. They’re too invested to realise that they’re just being used. They’re so focused on getting a shred of recognition from the gods that they don’t understand that it’s never gonna come.”

“So…” You finally spoke, your first words in a minute, “What do we do?”

Luke shrugged then, “I don’t know yet.” 

It was silent for a long time after that. Luke stayed staring at the floor and you led back to stare at the sky. He was right, wasn’t he? Sure, you’d only been in this for a little while, but you weren’t stupid. You knew the gods didn’t care — you’d figured out that much when you got to camp. A dumping ground for demigods. Demigod daycare, except mommy isn’t coming to pick you up at three o’clock. Luke deserved to be angry, he deserved to mope — they all did. 

But they wouldn’t. You could sit there and curse the gods for hours on end, but that was still half of you. And that, you thought, was probably the worst part of it all.  

You were so caught up in your feelings that when the tree that had been shading you phased into a nymph and walked away, you jumped halfway out of your skin, “Jeezum crow.”

You looked at Luke, expecting him to either share the same dumbfounded look on his face or be laughing at you — something he seemed to be doing a lot of today — but instead he was staring at you, slack-jawed and wide eyed. You blinked, “What?”

“You’re from Vermont.” 

Your mouth snapped shut, and his expanded into the grin you’d been hassling him for since you’d set your sights on him. You sighed, “Fuck.” 

He let out a disbelieving laugh, “You’re from Vermont! Holy shit. I should’ve known it when you called me a flatlander.” He threw his head back, and you shook yours at his dramatics. But he didn’t care, he just pointed at you, “You’re a fuckin’ woodchuck!” 

“Oh my gods.” You groaned into your hands, pulling yourself to your feet in hopes of escaping his sudden glee. “Is that so bad?” 

“No.” He laughed, following you, “I’m just amazed that I figured it out. I’m a genius!”

“Okay.” You sent him a blank look, but it only lasted a few seconds before your tiny smile was fighting through, “It’s not like you’ve discovered the meaning of life. Calm down.” 

“Never.” He shook his head, “This is my greatest achievement.”

“You fought a dragon.” 

“Screw the dragon!” He gripped your biceps, grinning at you, “You’re from Vermont!”

“You’re not funny.”

“And yet you’re laughing.”

“I am not.”

“You are.” 

“I’m not!” 

____________

“What’d you do to him?” 

You threw a piece of salmon into the fire, glancing at Chris, “I’m getting deja vu. Haven’t you asked me this already?” 

“Yeah, but…” The boy looked behind him, back at the Hermes table, where Luke was perched on the end and waiting patiently for you to come back from the hearth before digging into his food, “This time I mean it. I mean, he still isn’t talking to us, but he’s sitting on our side of the table again. You can be honest with me…” He sent you a grave look, “Did you give him a BJ?” 

“What? No!” You threw a pea at him. “I just listened to him.” You tried to be a little serious, but clearly Chris wasn’t getting the hint, so you relented, “And doused him in pond water.”

He laughed at that, nodding proudly. You turned back to the fire, asking Aphrodite to get rid of your split ends. You’d given up on praying to your father, deciding to go through every Olympian until one of them answered. So far, only Hera had responded — you assumed so, anyway, when a cuckoo woke you up from your afternoon nap. That wasn’t very helpful, but at least it was an answer. You didn’t suspect campers prayed to her often, so she probably appreciated the sentiment. 

“So…” Travis smirked, wiggling his eyebrows at you once you sat down. He sent this look around the group, but even Connor gave him a weirded out look in response. He huffed, “It’s team day tomorrow.”

A collective ohhh seemed to hum around the group, but you were still confused. You sent a questioning look to Luke who said, “For Capture the Flag. Tomorrow is when all the cabin counsellors gang up and decide on the two teams.”

“Then we have five days to strategise.” Travis continued on very dramatically, hands splayed on the table, “And on Friday…we battle.”

That seemed to lift the energy up a bit, the people around you sharing mischievous looks. They started to discuss amongst them who would be the best cabin to ally with, Lana turning to Chris, “Who are you gonna pick?” 

Chris went to speak, but paused. He seemed to think about something, looking slightly scared but still turning to the boy across from him anyway, “I thought maybe…Luke would like to reinstate himself as team captain this month.”

Right, you’d completely forgotten. During your spear lessons with Clarisse, you’d asked her why it was so important that you be amazing at fighting quickly if monsters couldn’t get into camp. She’d then explained the whole situation that was Capture the Flag — how it was a bigger deal than the super bowl around here — before briefly mentioning that Luke had always been Hermes team captain, but stepped down for the last game because his scar was still healing from his quest. Chris had taken over for him, and based off of the looks the people around you were sporting, you assumed they weren’t expecting him to give up his title so quickly. 

You couldn’t blame them. Luke hadn’t exactly expressed much desire to captain this time — he hasn’t expressed much desire for anything these days apparently. You were all waiting for him to let Chris down easy, but instead he looked up from his plate with an indifferent nod and said, “Yeah, sure.” 

Nobody said anything. Except Chris who, when Luke stood to rack up his empty plate, looked at you gravely and asked, “Was it a handjob?”

🏷️ @katherines-imagines @lovingjasontoddmakemewanttocry @jennapancake @cobaltskiez @loveryoushouldcomeoverr @m00ng4z3r @mischiefmoons @woodlandwrites @theo-notts-doll @iammightsadyall @fennecswife @csifandom @tsireyasgf (just ask to be removed/added!)

[gojoidyll]

Imagine taking Katheryne's place for the day in Liyue, and when the traveler comes by for a new commission they are surprised to see you. You, on the other hand, aren't surprised to see them as you expected for them to come by. However, what you didn't expect was to see someone who doesn't belong.

He was clad in expensive looking attire, the contrast of blues and whites matching perfectly with his pale complexion and long silver hair. His eyes were mesmerizing too. They reminded you much of your dear friend Zhongli's eyes despite the major difference in color.

"Oh, y/n, we didn't expect to see you here today! Where's Katheryne?"

"Hello Paimon, Traveler, Katheryne is out for the day and a new commission popped up asking for anyone who was free to take her place. The mora is good, so I decided to take up the job since I don't have anything else to do."

"Oohhh, that makes sense," Paimon answered.

You smiled before directing your attention to their tall friend, "may I ask who this is?"

"This Neuvillette," Paimon introduced with an air of arrogance in her voice, "he's the chief justice of Fontaine! Pretty cool, huh?"

You bowed to Neuvillette, "it's nice to meet you sir."

"No, the pleasure is mine... your name is y/n, correct? The traveler and Paimon talk a lot about you. They were actually saying how they wanted me to meet you at some point."

Before you could say anything, you felt a tug on your sleeve, "miss y/n, your shift is over."

Nodding you turn back to the three before you, "well, as you can tell, since I'm done working for the day, why don't I tag along? That is, if it's alright."

Meeting Neuvillette was definitely interesting. He was both kind and courteous. A true gentleman. Not to mention that you quite like how he spoke to you. His voice was nice, smooth, and definitely easy on the ears. And just as he liked talking about Fontaine, he also liked listening to you.

Most of the time when you hung out with the traveler and Paimon, Paimon was usually the one who dominated the conversation (not that you minded, you weren't much of a talker to begin with), so being the center of attention in a conversation for once definitely made you nervous. Especially when such a handsome and refined man was giving such a attention.

And later you would fail to notice how Paimon and the traveler would give each other a high-five before leaving both you and Neuvillette to talk amongst yourselves. Neuvillette noticed, however, but decided to not say anything.

"You know Miss y/n," Neuvillette started but you gently cut him off, "y/n is fine."

"Y/n," he amended with a smile, "I've actually been quite the fan of yours for some time. And truthfully, it was I who asked the traveler to meet you."

As it turns out, you were actually a performer of sorts. Your voice was something that everyone could admire for hours on end. But at some point you decided to take a break. The life of an adventurer too good to pass up. (You did promise yourself to sing again someday, but for now, you were on a ... vacation of sorts.)

"You- you're a fan of mine?"

"Yes, I always enjoyed your performances when you would grace Fontaine with your voice. And when I heard you had went on break, I honestly thought I wouldn't be able to hear you again."

Your face felt hot all of sudden, it wasn't everyday that such a gorgeous man showered you in such praises. You felt him grab your hand as he stopped walking to look at you.

"Y/n, I-"

"Am i interrupting something?"

You looked to see who it was and immediately broke out into a bright smile, "Mr. Zhongli!"

You gently let go of Neuvillette's hand before walking up to your friend to give him a hug, "I haven't seen you in awhile! Where on Teyvat have you been?"

"Just traveling my dear, nothing to worry about."

As you pulled away to introduce Zhongli to Neuvillette, you didn't notice how the air got thicker and the area more tense than what it was.

Oh, and did I forget to mention that you didn't know that Zhongli is actually the geo Archon? Yeah...

Having two dragons fight over you is quite nice, though.

[ultravioletrayz]

a request? what about your edging miguel and so you let him cum since he begging it however we continuing to do it? and so what about this but with cumplay ? you know,and he.....like into it,like you playing with he cum, on his body.thigh. abs, idk anywhere and just licking it idk?

so a kinda dom/sub!miguel x fem!reader

yea im crazy for a whiny men whos loves anything we do and espically whimper and beg

you with me girlie?

Yes yes yes, totally with you.

The plot for this was inspired by this ask, btw!!

@ce3stvu tagging my bby girl <3

Pairing: sub!miguel o’hara x dom!f!reader

Warnings: 18+, handjob, edging, cumplay, cum eating, dacryphillia if you squint, themes of jealousy

Summary: you remind miguel who he belongs to

A/N: i love dom!migs, but something about imagining that big man all whiny and crying is sooo hot

Word Count: 1K

It’s all that stupid bitch’s fault. The thought is swirling around in Miguel’s head on repeat as his hips pathetically twitch and spasm upwards to try and loosen the grip you have around the blushing tip of his cock. Still, you merely apply more pressure, squeezing his poor head so hard your fingers act as a makeshift cock ring, making it impossible for Miguel to acquire any sense of relief as your other hand fondles his heavy, aching balls with little skill, your only goal being to tease him. 

This was a much better way of reminding Miguel of your loyalty to one another than talking it out. Frankly, you didn’t even know how to approach discussing the topic. You were supposed to be Miguel’s angelic, bubbly little girlfriend. You didn’t want to cause a fight over some random spider-woman from work. 

Instead, you smile from ear to ear as you watch the beads of tears that cling to Miguel’s gorgeous, thick eyelashes as he sobs and begs to cum, after you’ve denied climax after climax with your possessive grip around the thick circumference of his dick. 

There’s no doubt in your mind that other spider-people can hear Miguel’s unapologetic whines from outside his office, and the thought makes your mind a hazy fog of lust and pride. Hopefully, that new girl that Miguel was training, the one that kept running her grubby hands all over his arms and back like you were an idiot and wouldn’t notice her blatant flirting. 

You had initially felt guilty when you pulled Miguel away from his sparring session with the girl, leading him to his office with one goal in mind: reiterating that Miguel is yours and yours alone.

But now that he's been forced into becoming this mess of desperation and sticky pre-cum, your worries and shame have vanished. Only your touch can make Miguel feel this way, making him lose all of his self-control and dignity. And he does the same thing to you. Sure, an outsider would probably say all of this jealousy and possessiveness is toxic or overbearing, but you and Miguel can't help but cling to one another. You're each other's soulmates. That new girl could never compare.

"Hah- ah, fuck! M-Mami, por favor… need- ah! need to cum. Please, please l-lemme cum-!" Miguel begs, his tear-stained cheek squished against the smooth material of your spider suit that conceals your tits, but the warmth of his face seeps through the fabric, his breath causing your nipples to perk up at the subtle contact as you lean over him and giggle. 

You keep your fingers squeezed around his tip, rubbing his swollen head in circular motions as your other hand cups his balls in the comfort of your palm. The tension around Miguel’s tip is almost torturous, making him curse and thrash around in his office chair as he desperately attempts to make your hand slip even slightly so that his dick can breathe again. 

The thick, chocolate-brown hair that adorns the tan flesh from his belly button down to his base caresses your forearm each time Miguel fails to push through the restraint of your fist and thrust into your closed hand. 

You feel bad for taking your insecurities out on your poor, unsuspecting boyfriend, who was just trying to be a good boss and do his job, so you decide to give him a break.

"Yeah? You gonna cum for me, guapo?" You coo teasingly, releasing the pressure around the leaky head of Miguel's cock and instead starting to pump his shaft, your pace fast and sloppy as you make up for the time spent prohibiting Miguel from having any kind of release. 

Miguel's climax hits him like a freight train, his back arching drastically and his claws digging into his seat as his rock-hard cock spurts bucket loads of cum up into the air, the gooey strands of his devotion to you hitting his toned abs and coating the hair on his thighs and stomach, creating a pooling mess of semen, sweat, and tears as he slumps back in his chair and splutters.

You watch with wide eyes as Miguel's cum decorates his tan skin, like an abstract painting of your composition. And you couldn't be more proud of yourself. In a hypnotised state of desire and devotion, you scramble to your knees in between Miguel's spread thighs. 

With a smile on your face, you lick a fat, sloppy stripe from Miguel's pelvis up to his juicy pecs, gathering his cum on your flat tongue and swallowing. He tastes divine.

No other bitch would treat him like this, using her hands and mouth to worship him like you do. You lap up every thick glob of shimmering cum from Miguel's panting body, not even able to savour it due to your desperation to taste all of him.

"You taste so good, Mig." You moan, eyes fluttering at the salty, decadent flavour of Miguel's cum flooding your senses. Your hand keeps pumping him slowly, milking every last drop of his delicious cum from his cock as you worship his body and devour his essence as it glistens on his stomach and thighs. 

Your free hand scoops up some of his mess to watch how the strings make your fingers stick together, before shoving your digits in your mouth and sucking the cum off your fingers. 

Miguel chuckles and moans at the sight of his pretty girl so desperate to please him, all to ensure his loyalty. The fact that you're more willing to drag your wet tongue up and down his cum-covered, shivering body than have a conversation about your feelings is a little odd, but Miguel's not complaining. It's sweet to see how much you love him, and how much you hate that new bitch for thinking she stands a chance against you.

Miguel holds your chin in his hands and stops you from feasting on any more of his cum, directing your gorgeous face upwards so that you're staring into his eyes. You rest your tacky hands on his thighs, making him tremble ever so slightly at the way your skin sticks to his, binding the two of you together. 

Breathlessly, Miguel whispers to you, his girl, his one and only, the love of his life, with a crooked smile on his sweaty, fucked-out face.

"Sólo para ti, hermosa."

sick and tired of miguel being depicted as the “jealous and possessive” one in the relationship. If I had a man like that, I’d be just as crazy

[silverzoomies]

Turkish Delight

peter maximoff x reader smut

chapter 1: sweet talkin'

link to chapter 2: here

warnings: shameless smut, porn without plot, phone sex, mutual masturbation, best friends, dirty talk

word count: 6,368

a/n: hiyaaa !! i'm back with more filth !! peter speaks russian in this one. i've seen people use russian in place of sokovian language before. and since i've been learning russian for a while, i thought i'd give it a shot !! if you're familiar with the language and anything seems off, please let know asap !! as usual, apologies if peter seems ooc, or if my writing isn't up to par !!

tag list (if i forgot you, please remind me !!): @dewberryobssesed @violetharmonscupcake @kaismanwich @jellyluvr @taintandviolent @ahoyladiesz @scene-and-dandylover @quickandsilvers @luttic @billielourdslays

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Chillaxing on the sofa in his mom’s basement, Peter drew out a sigh. His hooded eyes gaped at the TV screen. As he channel surfed, his thumb tapped lazily on the remote. Peter stopped to check each channel in abrupt intervals. Afternoon cable was boring as hell today. It failed to grasp his short lived attention span.

Seinfeld reruns? He saw just about all of ‘em. Soap Operas? Those were more his mom’s thing. Huge pass. Nature documentaries? Could be cool. Guess it depended on which one, though.

Oh. It was the one about the polar bear’s great journey across the arctic! Nifty enough. Except, Peter saw that one three or four times already now. Скучный (boring). Так скучно (So boring).

‘Kay, soooo…TV was kind of a no-go. Instead, Peter popped on the PS1 and settled for a game of Metal Gear Solid. The game’s opening intro was a little too slow for his liking, but Peter forced himself to focus. It sucked he was so antsy today, so fidgety and impatient. He needed some kind of distraction. Any distraction. And he needed one fast.

Peter bounced a leg, half invested in the game’s dialogue. His fingers absentmindedly flicked the controller buttons. Not even five minutes into playing, he found himself frustrated and bored again. This time around, he figured some company might ease his ennui.

He darted across the arm of the couch to a side table. Over a stack of comic books and empty cans of soda, he snatched the receiver to a Garfield phone. Peter dialed a number in less than a second. Too fast, at first. The phone didn’t even register his request. Rolling his eyes, he dialed the number again. Slower this time.

Peter kept the vibrant hunk of orange plastic between his cheek and shoulder. Buzzy ringing echoed on the other end of the line, as he waited for the recipient to pick up. The time it took for a voice to finally respond felt like fifty billion years. Your voice. One of Peter’s closest comrades. The pal he shared most, if not all, of his free time with.

There were days when you visited, and you laid back on the sofa with him. With your legs stretched over his lap and a magazine in your hands, you relaxed. Peter would always do his usual, playing whatever game he ‘bought’ from the local K-Mart. Every time he cursed himself for making a misstep, you giggled. You knew how frustrating it was for him, if he wasn't a hundred leaps ahead of everything. And just to get back at you - but also to hear you laugh again - he’d reach over and dig his fingers into your belly.

He loved that it took such minimal effort to make you laugh. You always had an easygoing warmth about you. And maybe you were also pretty cute too. Sometimes, the crook of your smile made him blush. Oh, and you didn't mind duking it out in Mario Kart sometimes. That was also kinda cool. What more could a lonesome guy ask for? Просто друзья. Ничего больше (Just friends. Nothing more). Yeah. He could be content with that. No problem.

Ten minutes into conversation with you, Peter breathed a yawn into the receiver.

“You know, I’m surprised you have the patience for talking on the phone.” You joked.

The speakers roared with a soft buzz in his ear. Peter didn’t register your words at first. Blinking lazily, he tapped the PS1 controller buttons at rapid speed. In the game, Snake fought off an onslaught of bad guys. Peter faked his offense with a scoff.

“Seriously? Man, what’s up with that? It’s like everyone thinks I can’t do stuff at normal speed without goin’ berserk.” He said, cursing under his breath as Snake got gunned down again.

A small part of him wished you were there, with your legs over his lap, cracking jokes at his expense. Over the phone, you emitted a gentle laugh.

“Because you have? Multiple times, dude!” You said.

Surely you could hear Peter’s eyes roll in his skull.

“Oh, yeah? Name five.” he pressed.

The fast paced clicking of the buttons echoed like a trill in the basement. He overheard the sound of rustling as you shifted in place. If Peter had to guess, he’d bet his left foot you were still lazing around in bed. It was a Saturday, after all. With the hour tipping on the edge of late afternoon. You always moved at the slowest of speeds on your off days.

“I’m just saying! I totally get it. Even I don’t have the patience for chats on the phone sometimes.” You said, and a squeaky yawn followed.

More rustles scuffed from your end, as if you moved to stretch. Keeping his gaze fixed on the flickering, CRT screen; Peter followed flashes of light from each grunt’s gun. His reaction time proved effortless as always. His methods, not so much.

“Nah, it’s cool.” Peter mumbled after a beat, “Doesn’t bother me much if I’m talkin’ to you.  You’re not boring, first of all. And on the off chance I do get bored, I can just say - hey, babe, I’m gonna hang up. And you won’t get-uhhh…” He lingered on his next thought, distracted with gunning down more masked baddies, “You won’t get, like, butt hurt over it."

“Why would I?” You laughed, “Did someone seriously get offended by that?”

“My aunt did once. She got mad pissed ‘cuz I told her I was ‘kinda bored’ on the phone. She made me pass it to my mom, so she could rat me out. Said I showed a ‘lack of consideration'; ‘er whatever.” Peter paused, brows furrowed. In Metal Gear, Snake perished yet again. Peter rolled his eyes once more, “She’s kinda mental, though. это возмутительно (it’s outrageous).”

Your only response was a quiet hum of acknowledgement. Peter broke the silence that followed.

“Hey, you’re not busy today, are you? Wanna do somethin’ later?” He asked, knowing full well you had jack shit to do.

“I don’t know. I’m feeling soooooo lazy today.” You playfully teased.

The soft pattern of your breathing sent electric tingles down Peter’s neck. Shuddering, he shook off those unexpected chills. Another beat, and Peter groaned, as Snake perished over a low poly landscape. You gotta take it slow and stealthy, man - Peter reminded himself.

“Хорошо (okay)? So? Come be lazy over here then.” He replied, “Tell you what. If you do, I’ll go ‘n snag some of those Turkish delights you like. The same ones my mom gotcha for your birthday. Remember? From Sokovia?”

Your voice perked up instantly, bringing a cheesy smile to his face. Homely fondness simmered in his chest, and Peter felt himself blush. He pulled his lip between his teeth, pausing his game to focus more on conversation. Leaving Snake stranded in the middle of the snow.

“Oh my gosh!! No way?? I haven’t had those in forever! Seriously, the ones from Sokovia?” You chimed.

“Hell yeah! But you gotta get outta bed first, dingus. C’monnnn.” Peter whined, “I’m so bored here, babe. Oh! I totally forgot. I finally got my hands on a Gameboy Color too. Swear on my life I paid for it this time. You could come over ‘n try it ouuuuuut.” He teased in a sing-song voice, wiggling his brows.

“Gameboys and Turkish delights? You’re spoiling me today, Peter! What’s the occasion?” You joked over the line.

He shrugged, forgetting you couldn’t see him, “Bored outta my friggin’ skull. That’s what.” After a beat, he awkwardly added, “And maybe I like hangin’ with you? Do I even need a reason?”

“Well, I gotta admit…you had me at Turkish delights.” You feigned a dreamy tone.

Peter chuckled again. Under his breath, he muttered softly, “ Это все, что тебе нужно, да (That’s all you need, huh)?”

“Huh?” You asked, oblivious to his comment, “What’d you say? I didn’t catch that last part.”

Peter ran a hand through his silver locks, leaving his hair loose and messy. Cradling the phone in his other hand, he knitted his lips to one side.

“Nothin’. Don’t worry about it. You want me to come get you? ‘Cuz I can.” He checked his digital watch, decked out in a Star Wars theme, “I can right now, if you-”

“It’s fine. I love going out with you, but I really don’t wanna deal with motion sickness today. I just had lunch too. No offense!” Another yawn rang over the phone, hitching into a squeal at the end. Peter didn’t realize he was smiling so big until his cheeks started to hurt, “I’ll just drive over. Sound good?”

Peter rolled his eyes, sarcastically groaning. He threw his head back into the sofa cushions, playing up his fake frustrations.

“Auuuuuuugh! But that’ll take years.” He dragged a hand down his face, pulling his cheeks under his fingertips, “Is this ‘cuz you blew chunks last time?? You know that doesn’t bother me, right? Everyone does it, babe.”

You made a noise of disgust. Something like an eugh , “Please, don’t remind me. That sucked so much. Yeah, no, I’d rather not. I really need a break from it.” You sighed again. Kind of a bummer, but he could deal.

“It’s whatever you want, I guess. So, when are you gonna head out?” Peter asked, sitting up on the sofa and putting the controller aside.

He bounced a leg at rapid speed, his knee moving in a flesh tone blur of motion. Less from agitation, more due to anticipation.

“I’ll leave soon. Just give me a few minutes. Think you can wait?” You chuckled in that sweet, quirky way again. The melody gave Peter butterflies. Ignoring the fluttering in his belly, he pushed himself off the couch. Grabbing the base of the Garfield phone, Peter cradled the lil guy in an arm. He figured he may as well get dressed, and freshen up before you arrived, “It’s so cold today. I haven’t even gotten out of bed yet! I’m still bundled up in my undies. Got your jacket on too. You left a Game n Watch in the pocket, by the way. I didn’t even know they still made those!”

“Yeah. I totally called that one. Get up already, ya slacker.” Peter joked trapping the phone between his cheek and shoulder again. He scratched his bare chest. His fingertips grazed the sparse covering of white hairs there. Yawning, he nodded, “Okay. Okay. Okay. Sure, just-”

Something about your last statement finally clicked in Peter’s brain. He rapidly blinked, shaking his head fast enough to give himself whiplash. Peter did a quadruple take.

“Подожди (wait)! Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, waiiiiiit …hold on a sec.” He narrowed his eyes, “Say that again?”

“Say what again? The part about the Game n Watch?” You asked, and Peter’s brows furrowed.

“N-Nah. The…did you just…have you been lyin’ around in your underwear this whole time?”

“Uh, yeah? Why? Is this revolutionary information?” You chuckled.

“In my jacket? Like, I didn’t hear that wrong? What’d you like…sleep in it ‘er somethin’?” Peter arched a silver brow, pressing the phone handset closer to his cheek. As if doing so might somehow help him hear you more clearly.

It really wasn’t that big of a deal either way. You borrowed his jackets all the time. Peter never thought anything of it before this conversation. Aside from the fact that - when you did return them, he loved the sweet scent you left behind. The smell of your perfume, with the added bonus of your natural pheromones…

Ебать (Fuck)! Why was he even thinking about this? The two of you had such a casual thing goin’ on. But now, Peter thought of you in a different light. Something friskier. Not that he meant to. Maybe killer boredom + cute friend = horny speedster. Or perhaps the planets aligned in some totally off-the-wall way.

Whatever the case, Peter’s mind raced on autopilot. He pictured the way you might look right now. In your room, spread across your bed in nothing but your underwear and - Ебена мать (Holy shit) - his jacket. With your long legs bare, your knees bumping together as you squeezed your thighs shut. Tummy exposed. And your tits-

Woooooooah there! Slow down, casanova! Peter shouldn’t be…nah, he really shouldn’t be wondering what your breasts looked like. Ppfffbbbbt …’kay, so, maybe in the past he thought about it once or twice. But what dude wouldn't contemplate the hidden mystery of a pal's titties sometimes, ah?

“Well, so what if I did? That doesn’t weird you out, does it?” You asked, a careful waver in your voice.

“Uhhhh…nahhh, babe. Just…” Peter shifted in place, rerouting his thoughts, “Just…got one hell of an image in my head. Might’ve pictured you like that for no particular reason at all.”

Lucky for him, you didn’t seem to think anything of his confession.

“Not much to imagine…” You replied. Сомнительно (Doubtful).

“I mean…pffbbbttt…sure, yeah. Maybe not.” Peter awkwardly laughed, scratching the back of his neck. His voice dropped, a little more hushed, “Unless…you’re wearin’ some really cute panties over there.” Again, he laughed, rushing out a quick, “I’m kiddin’. I’m kiddin’. I’m kiddin’. I’m totally messin’. Just bustin’ your balls, babe.”

Except…he sorta wasn’t. Peter found himself oh-so curious. Twisting the phone's orange wire around his finger, he anticipated your reaction. Anxious you might think him weird for pushing things too far. Never had the two of you charted this kind of territory. It was a minefield, with a 95% chance neither one would make it out unscathed.

“I guess? I think they’re kind of cute.” You added, innocent as ever. Awesome. You weren’t peeved at him, at least. Peter brought the phone to his chest, exhaling an anxious breath to calm his racing heart. When he put the phone to his ear again, he figured you’d moved on. But your cadence shifted. To test the boundaries of your friendship, you teased, “They’re pretty small on me, though.”

Ah. Ah. Интересно. Очень интересно (Interesting. Very interesting). What an unexpected but totally wicked development. Peter lowered himself slowly onto the couch, setting the phone's base on the side table. He eased backwards into the cushions, and tightened his twisting of the phone wire. Swallowing hard, Peter found he had difficulty focusing. Especially with his imagination running so goddamn wild.

“Yeah? …How small is pretty small?” He dared to ask.

Long seconds of silence ticked by at the pace of a narcoleptic sloth. If Peter weren’t so eager to hear what you had to say, he may have torn his hair out. Over the line, you laughed.

“Small enough they barely cover my ass? Why are you so curious all of a sudden?” You cooed.

Peter fluttered his inky eyes, nibbling chapped skin on his lip. Fuzzy pink swarmed the rest of his face, as his mind conjured images of you so effortlessly. Clear as day. Heat stirred to life in his groin, and Peter pictured the way your plush cheeks might hold in tight painties. His breath hitched.

“I-uh…” Peter felt the heat in his cheeks creep down his neck, flustered at lightspeed, “Just thinkin’...maybe you should do somethin’ about that?” He gritted his teeth, pinching the bridge of his nose. What a lame response, “Черт возьми (damn it)!” He huffed under his breath, too quiet for you to hear.

Toying with this newly discovered sexual tension, Peter humorously asked-

“Sooooooo…what color?”

You giggled into the receiver, airy and light. His body registered the noise somewhere , down south of his belly. He wondered if you were as flustered as him. And the visual of your bashful face and shy smile had his heartbeat ramping up to mach 10.

“What? A-Are you for real asking me…oh my god, dude!” Your giggles turned into goofy snorts. Which he found so endearing. Once you composed yourself, you spoke again. Though, your tone came off as more flirtatious, “If you really wanna know so bad…then fine. They’re black. Lacy. With a little bow on the front.”

Дерьмо (Shit)...

His silver brows soared high, disappearing under his bangs. Paying little attention to his instinctive actions, Peter guided his free hand between his thighs. Inwardly, he told himself he was only adjusting his uncomfortable hard-on. ‘Cuz it’d be totally weird if he did anything else…right? Best to ignore the movement of his thumb, as it absentmindedly circled his bulge.

“Huh…that’s so…” Peter blinked, clearing his throat and masking his nerves with a chuckle, “‘Kay, I’ll be up front with you, babe. That sounds cute as hell. Very nice.”

“Really? Oh, please, Peter. They’d be cute on anybody.” You scoffed.

“Uh huh…” He smirked, dropping his tone even lower, “‘Cept, now that I’m really thinkin’ about it? I’m bettin’ they look criminally cute on you.” Peter lazily smirked.

You laughed, breathless like you ran a thousand miles, “Wh-...what are we even doing right now? Seriously, why am I talking to you about my-” The uneasiness in your voice bled through the line.

Your concern was for good reason. Nevertheless, Peter interrupted you mid-sentence.

“Easy there, chuckles. We’re just chatting. Nothin’ too unusual, right? We’ve had some seriously raunchy conversations before. Remember? That time I got laid on a golf course? You told me about that time some dude shot a load in your eye. What’s the difference, anyway?” Peter grimaced, as he recalled your story from eons ago.

You giggled yet again, “Peter, you know damn well what the difference is!” You clarified with a sigh, still playful. The phone wire went slack around his finger, as Peter second guessed himself. He parted his lips, on the cusp of apologizing. Bringing one hand up to the phone, he held it loosely. Your sugary voice chimed again, “I’m kinda wondering, though…what would you think if I told you I’m topless right now?”

His grip compressed around the handset.

“Topless, huh?” Peter cast a quick glance at his hard-on, twitching painfully under his boxers. His mind jumped straight to sinful places again. Peter thought about what your tits probably look like, embraced in his jacket. Nipples hard, grazing the inner-lining. He swallowed, “What’re you tryna tell me? You gonna drive over here in nothin’ but that?” Peter quipped.

A more sultry laugh melted through the receiver. Peter trembled, as your smooth voice coaxed him like a tempting song. His free palm squeezed his bulge, putting pressure to his length over fabric. Peter’s brows turned inward, and he fluttered his eyes shut.

“I guess that wouldn’t be so bad, if it wasn’t so cold outside. It’s freezing today. I don’t know how you can run as fast as you do when the weather’s like this.” Your tone disguised itself with lighthearted innocence again, “It’s not any warmer in my room either. My nipples could cut glass. They’re, like, soooo hard.”

Peter adjusted himself on the sofa, giving the swell of his bulge another teasing squeeze.

“ Ты маленькая соблазнительница (you little temptress)...”  His hot breath fanned the phone.

“I love it when you talk like that…” You replied, “Even if I have no idea what you’re saying. It sounds really hot, to be totally honest.”

“Oh, yeah?” Peter teased his lip with his teeth, speaking in a more flirtatious voice; buttery smooth, “ Я забыл вынести мусор (I forgot to take out the trash)...” For added effect - just to embarrass you more - he tacked on a husky moan.

Peter made himself blush, as the sound came out far more pornagraphic than he intended. The rasp of his voice scraped through the line in a hushed, “ Oh, yeah, baby. ”

The erotic tension you felt from his teasing was palpable, even over the phone. Peter could sense the shift in the way you gasped. So faint, so shy, so cute.

“Oh…oh, wow...uhm…” You tried concealing your bashfulness with more of those candy coated giggles. But Peter could practically hear the blood racing to your cheeks, “What’s that mean? Something good, I hope.”

Peter bit his tongue, lips turning in a cheeky grin.

“It means you’re really turnin’ me on…”

Another hesitant pause fell between the two of you, before you scoffed.

“Oh my god, no it doesn’t! I can hear you laughing!” You griped, snickering along with Peter. A few more tension heavy beats pulsed over the line. You spoke again, “Hey…I’m sorry. Can I put things on pause for a sec? I just wanted to ask…are you okay with this?”

“Are you?” Peter gently asked, giving you ample time to think about it.

“I don’t know…maybe…” You whispered, “Isn’t this, like, super weird for you?”

“I mean…suuuuuuure. It’s totally weird. If you kept goin', I wouldn't be into it...at all...” He bullied you with a playful edge, hoping you could read the flirtatious undertone in his voice.

“Ohhhhh…you wouldn't be?” Judging by the saucy lilt in your voice, you most definitely caught on, “You know what would be even weirder?”

Peter adjusted on the sofa again. Getting comfortable, he laid on his back. His taut legs stretched across the cushions, and Peter propped his head on the couch’s arm.

“Whazzat? Enlighten me, babe. I’m listenin’. You got my full attention.” He teased.

“Your full attention, huh? I must be doing something right.” You snickered, “So…you know how I said I love it when you talk…like that?” Your voice wavered, “What I really meant was-uhm…when you do that on the phone…it makes me kind of horny.”

His brown hues burst open, wider than ever. Peter’s pupils dilated, expanding as far as the universe itself. He swallowed again, his mouth falling open. Your filthy confession set his arousal ablaze, making his dick twitch. As heated desire took over, Peter couldn’t restrain himself. He snuck his fingers under the waistband of his boxers, fingertips gliding over silver hairs. A small piece of him almost felt guilty for doing so.

“It does, huh? Хорошо знать (Good to know).” Peter whispered, tenderly grasping his shaft.

You made a naughty squeak of a noise in response, “Y-Yeah, Peter, I’m serious. You really have to stop doing that.”

“Почему (Why)? Are you soakin’ yourself over it? Gettin’ a lil wet? It’s cool. You can tell me…” Peter heckled, expelling a breath as he gave his dick a single tug.

“Oh, I bet you wanna know all about that, huh? You’re so bad, Quickie...” You teased, clicking your tongue.

Peter’s ears burned, turning pink as he took in the coquettish nature of your voice. Scoffing, he feigned his indignance.

“What?! Hey, nah nah nah! You started this! Это несправедливо, черт возьми (it’s not fair. Dammit)!” Peter laughed, carefree with you as always, “You can’t seriously drop a bombshell like that and expect me not to-”

“Not to come running?” You hummed, sweet tempered, “I’m just messing with you, baby. But since we’re on the topic…I made such a mess of these little panties. Just from listening to your voice.”

Peter couldn’t even pretend he didn’t like the sound of ‘baby’ on your tongue.

“Oh, man…anything but the panties…” He joked, “You should-uh…you should save yourself some trouble. Y’know…take ‘em off, maybe? Might be more comfortable.” Peter hinted, playing nonchalant, “Just tryna be a good friend. Give you some advice. You should for sure take it.”

“But I’m already so cold…” You whimpered, “Your jacket’s so warm. Smells good too. Really good. But it’s not enough to keep me covered.” You spoke with flirtatious innocence, and Peter played along.

“No harm done, принцесса (princess). I’ll warm you up if you need me to.” He reassured, sweet talking you over the phone, “Ты думаешь, что я не позабочусь о тебе? (Do you think I won't take care of you)?" Peter mumbled again. He listened to your sickly sweet laughs, before asking, “So…do you get like this every time we talk on the phone?”

“Mmmm…maybe.” You hummed, “What if I said yes?” You shuffled around again, and Peter’s mind jumped elsewhere. He imagined you shed yourself of damp, black lace. Leaving you wanton and needy in nothing but his jacket, “You know…we’ve been talking about me a lot this whole time. You wanna tell me what you’re wearing? I don’t really have a visual.”

“Oh…me?” Your request caught Peter off guard.

“Yeah, you. Who else, blockhead?” You playfully quipped, smoothing your voice to say, “You don’t have to be shy. I just wanna know, so I can think about taking it off of you.”

Peter didn’t know he could blush this much. Puffing a bashful laugh, he looked down at his body. Mostly nude and toned enough. He had his x-gene to thank for his pecs and hard abs. A fluffy bouquet of silver hairs peeked out from his boxers. Underneath, his dick throbbed, pressing eagerly into fabric.

“Uhm…I’m not wearin’ a lot? Nothin’ special. Just some black, boxer briefs, I guess. Wait, no-” Peter lifted a foot, his lips curling in a goofy smile, “Got my Star Wars socks on too.”

A sensual moan graced his ears, “That’s so hot.” You softly whined, “Star Wars socks? Peter, just take me now.”

Despite the fact you were totally messing with him, that playful comment made his chest tight. 

“Nothing else though?” You pressed.

“Nnnnnnnnnnope.” He drew out the word, popping the P, “Just the-uh…yeah. Boxers ‘n sexy socks. Not much to take off.”

“And you’re pretty fit, aren’t you? You always looked really jacked to me, so-” You said.

Peter cocked a brow, snickering to cover his embarrassment.

“Wooooahhh…you been checkin’ me out, babe?” He asked, darting his dark hues across his athletic bod. Peter flexed an arm, “Sure, I guess I’m in decent shape.” He found he couldn’t dismiss your compliments. Peter looked good, and he knew it. But he preferred hearing it from you, “Hey, you wanna know somethin’, like, way crazy?”

“This? What we’re doing right now is so crazy, right?” You laughed, sounding as bashful as him.

Peter snickered, “True. Truuuue. But, uh…” He shrank in his spot on the couch, pressing the vibrant handset closer into his cheek. Pre-cum seeped through his boxers, as Peter tugged his dick steady and slow. Careful not to stimulate himself too much yet. He dropped his voice to a hushed rasp, “I’m kinda in the same spot you are right now. If you-uh…if you catch my drift.”

The two of you knew each other for a long time. Several years, in fact. But never once did Peter think he’d hear his closest pal say-

“Ohhhh. Are you hard right now, baby?”

Oh. Yeah, this buddy-buddy friendship was in major trouble. Doomed to crash and burn. As soon as the words fell from your lips, spoken in your honeyed voice; Peter’s breath hitched in his throat. He sank his teeth so hard into his lip, he almost broke skin.

“Y-Yeah. Since you-uh…started talkin’ about your panties. I’m sorry, babe. Just been kinda bored and worked up all day.” He sheepishly chuckled.

“You poor baby…” You coddled him over the phone. And while he should’ve been embarrassed, Peter had no problem with you talking like that, “Can I ask how big you are?”

Peter stalled for a moment, before pulling the front of his boxers down. His hardness flopped against his belly, pulsating and ruddy from his teasing. Taking his aching length in his hand, he rubbed the underside with his thumb.

“You mean my dick? It’s-uhhhh…like six, maybe seven inches almost?” He squeezed his cock, milking beads of pre-cum, “But size doesn’t matter, yeah? It’s the motion of the ocean, babe.”

“Noooooo, baby. You’re so perfect. Wish I could see how good you look like that…” You cooed over the phone.

Your kindly words and airy tone made the veins in his dick throb with electric heat. Peter clutched his cock tight, pumping the velvet skin a touch faster. Giving himself just a simple taste of relief. His stomach clenched, hardening his abs.

“Не так идеально, как ты выглядишь (Not as perfect as you look)...” Peter muttered, drawing in a shallow breath, “Babe, I gotta tell ya, I’m really feelin’ this. I’m so into you right now. W-Want you to keep talkin’ like-uh...”

His imagination took his depravity to the next level. Now, Peter thought about joining you in your room. He wondered how soft and smooth your skin would feel. Supple and hot under his fingertips. What might you look like writhing under him, whimpering as he played with you? As he teased you? Man, you were both so screwed.

“Never thought dirty talking with me would turn you on so much…” You giggled.

Peter secured the handset between his cheek and shoulder. With both hands free, he raised his palm to his lips. He drew a long stripe with his tongue, bringing his damp hand to his cock. The slick lubrication pulled a gentle moan from his throat.

“M-Maybe a little bit. Ебать (Fuck), maybe a lot.” Peter groaned, labored in his breathing, “Can you - Ебать (fuck) - you wanna do somethin’ for me? Just a little favor between friends? S’all I’m askin’, baby.”

“Anything you want, Peter.” You mewled.

“Can you- mmmmohgod -” Peter choked up. He almost chickened out, but pushed himself to ask, “Can you touch yourself for me? Please? Пожалуйста, моя маленькая принцесса (Please, my little princess)...” His foreign whispers weaved pretty whimpers from your lips.

“Yeah. Yeah, I can do that, if you want me to. But you have to do the same for me too. It’s only fair, right? Equal exchange?” You whispered, acting playful again.

Peter breathed a guilty chuckle, “Uhm…yeahhhhh…about that…”

You softly gasped, “Have you been-”

“Playin’ with my dick this whole time? Maybe.” Peter admitted. His thumb caught another pearl of pre, spreading the slickness over his sensitive head, “But I’m not, like, totally jerkin’ it yet…” He lied, pressing you to encourage him.

“Oh, you’re not, huh? What are you doing then?” You asked, “Are you being a bad boy, Pietro?” The abrupt drop of his given name shocked him into silence.

Peter felt his groin tighten, and an exhilarating rush electrified his nerves. For the thousandth time, you giggled. And for the thousandth time, Peter’s heart leapt. Dumbfounded, he gathered his composure and played along again.

“Y-Yeah. So bad. You gotta help me, babe. I’m just-...I’m so hard. Don’t think I can stop myself if you keep talkin’ like that.”

Through the receiver, Peter’s ears caught wind of a needy mewl. He gripped his cock hard, guiding his fist in firmer strokes. His legs quivered, and the heels of his Star Wars socks slid across the couch.

“Does it feel good when you touch your pretty cock like that, sweetheart?” You cooed.

Peter almost went straight into cardiac arrest. He jolted in place, feeling his cock stiffen in his grasp.

“Святой трах (Holy fuck)..." Peter suffocated on his own groans. For an instant, his words failed him, “Uhmmm…hah…wow-uh…Ебать (fuck). Feels good, yeah. Don’t think it’s enough. I need-...uhm…I want-uh…”

“Yeah? What do you want, baby. It’s okay.” You spoke so sugary sweet again.

“I-...Я просто хочу увидеть тебя (I just want to see you)...” Peter’s veins tingled under his touch, as he tugged his dick with more urgency, “Shit! I-...how come I never knew you could be like this-” And to Peter’s ultimate humiliation, he whimpered your name. Along with another whiny, “ Ебать (Fuck). ”

“Like what?” Your coy voice teased him over the line.

“I dunno…so-uh…so damn nasty.” He joked, and even through the phone; he knew he had you flustered again.

“I guess we all have our secrets, hmm? Tell me more, Pietro. When you touch yourself like that. With those big, strong hands…how’s it feel?” You asked, driving him to keep going.

Peter snorted a laugh, “Strong hands? What??” His endearing playfulness took a backseat, as he grunted into the receiver, “God…feels like my strong hand’s not enough. Мне реально тебе нужно прямо сейчас. Нужна так сильно (I really need you right now. I need you so much).” His voice fell to a whisper. Pumping his slick, crimson cock through his fist, he breathlessly pleaded, “Talk to me, baby. Please. Tell me-ohhh…tell me what you’re doin’ over there.”

You squealed a sultry giggle, further igniting Peter’s pleasured frenzy. He squirmed in his spot on the sofa, forcing himself to stay put. Battling the forces of the universe, it was all Peter could do not to race to your room. Just to spread your legs and hump you like a speedy bunny.

“Mmmm…I’m just doing what you asked me to…I’m being so good for you right now.” You whimpered.

“Oh. Okay…uhm…far out. Uh…wanna gimme the steamy details?” He heckled again, fumbling his words in his nervousness, “Please, don’t hold off on me, baby.”

“I’m…” Your precious voice wavered, teeming with awkwardness as your confidence dwindled, “I’m playing with my little pussy. Just for you. And I’m so wet. I can’t stop thinking about your hands…so big…”

“Боже мой (my god).” Peter muttered. Combating impatience brought upon by his genes, he willed himself to take things slow. His strokes became steady and teasing, as he edged his aching cock, “Holy shit, babe. Yeah? Keep goin’...”

You moaned soft squeals into the receiver, “I want you so bad, Quickie. Please, baby, don’t make me beg. Can you touch this little pussy for me? Please? Your fingers are so big. I don’t think they’d fit all at once. It’s been a while, and I’m so tight.” Your naughty voice pleaded.

“God, I wanna touch you so bad. Я хочу прикоснуться к этой сладкой киске (I want to touch that sweet pussy).” Peter’s impatience got the better of him, and he quickly gave in. He grasped his cock hard, wringing himself fast enough to make his balls bounce. Creasing his brows, he groaned, “Ohhh..What’re you tryna to do to me, babe? Talkin’ about how tight you are…Ебать…”

“But I ammmm.” You whined again, “I’m squeezing my tiny fingers so tight. It’s so soft and hot for you. Bet it’d feel really good if you stretched me. With your fingers, with your cock - fuck, Pietro. I just need you, baby.”

“Please, baby, oh, please? Wanna be inside you. Wanna feel you. I promise I won’t go too fast. Я обещаю (I promise).” Peter whimpered. But as you mewled again, another forceful wave of carnal heat crashed over Peter. In a quieter tone, he choked, “Нет, я могу. Я пойду так быстро (No, I can. I’ll go so fast).”

“Pietro, you can go as fast as you want, baby. I won’t stop you.” You pleaded, your broken voice so kittenish and wanton, “F-Fuck. I’m rubbing my clit. So sensitive. Thinking about you. Thinking about your mouth on me.”

“Ебать!!” Peter moaned through clenched teeth. His self control rapidly abandoned him. Speedily rutting his sore cock through the squeeze of his fist, his body refused to slow down, “Говоря о скорости (Speaking of speed)...” Peter craned his neck back, raising a hand to keep the handset to his ear, “You gotta stop makin’ all those cute noises, baby. Please…I can’t-”

As surges of horny pleasure circulated through his body, Peter thought of you again. He imagined you on your bed, caged under him between his arms. In his daydreams, he kissed you intimately, touching your pretty, naked body. Peter wanted to feel how wet you were for himself. And hell, the danger of pushing your friendship past its limits made you more tempting. Such a lewd, risky thought pushed him closer to the edge of something righteous.

“Baby, I wanna see you. Can I? Can I see you stroke that thick cock? Would you let me? Ohh, fuck, Pietro.” You whimpered. And your noises were so shamelessly lecherous, you could’ve made a pornstar blush, “Can I kiss it, please? Can I kiss your big cock?” You whimpered.

“О боже мой, пожалуйста (Oh my god, please)!” Peter choked, every word hitching in his throat, “Baby…babe, you can’t do this. Ya really can’t be-” He laughed lazily, his dark eyes falling half lidded. His cock throbbed, bright red and turning purple at the tip. He rutted in a speedy blur, “Stop. Stop. Stop. I’m gonna…babe, I’m gonna bust-” He slurred.

You squealed his name as loudly as your hushed voice would allow. And Peter swore he could hear the slick sound of your fingers. As they played with your pretty, little cunt.

“I’m gonna cum, baby. Please cum with me. Please? Pietro, OH~!”

“я кончаю, я кончаю (I’m cumming, I’m cumming)! ‘M Gonna-” Peter’s moans seeped through the receiver, his wet lips parting and mouth hanging open.

His swollen cock erupted in white-hot jets, coating his pecs and belly. With all his muscles tensed, Peter’s legs trembled. He rode out those lusty waves in tandem with you. The pleasure of orgasm sounded leagues more intense on your side. You took longer to cruise through it, whimpering and moaning Peter’s name. As you did, Peter basked in his momentary afterglow. Keeping the phone pressed to his ear, his head resting on the arm of the sofa; he listened to you with a smirk on his lips. At the end of your journey in ecstasy, your moans turned into flustered giggles.

Peter's thoughts reeled him in again. Imagining you, looking so sheepish and fine in his jacket. Now, he desperately wanted the real deal. To see you in all your post-nut glory. Mere seconds later, his sore cock pulsed to life again. As his hardness squirmed on his belly, Peter breathed another sigh.

On his end, you heard nothing but silence. You kept calling his name, your tired voice infused with anxiety.

“Uhm…Peter? Hey…are you there?” You asked.

And he didn't say a single word more.

[rikiislvr]

☕️ height difference : ot7 line

pairing: enhypen x afab!reader

genre: fluff

summary: you and your height difference problems with enhypen

LEE HEESEUNG:

heeseung was waiting outside your apartment, with flowers in his hands, your favorites to be exact, which were tulips. he had on a white button up and light blue jeans to take you out to the park and chill for the rest of the day. he tried his hardest to keep his smile at a minimum, but once you walked out your apartment building, with your pretty light yellow dress, your hair pinned back by white pins, he couldn’t help but grin like a total idiot. “you look so gorgeous baby.” he smiled at you as you skipped up to him, “thank you- oh my! are these for me?” you gasp at the flowers he held, “they are indeed.” he looked down at you before handing you the flowers, your heart melted, heeseung then cupped your face to kiss you, you tried stepping up on your tippy toes but he was way too tall, so he leaned himself down to press his lips against yours.

-

PARK JONGSEONG:

since jay usually cooks for you and him, you decided to take things into your hands for a day. he was sitting across the counter watching you as you cooked, “i’m definitely not used to this.” he chuckled, since he was always the one who was cooking, “i know! but trust me, i know what im doing!” you nod and stirred the pot with sauce, you were making your infamous spaghetti, you walked over to the cabinet to grab the noodles to start them, you opened the cabinet, as your eyes scanned for the pack of noodles, you groaned once you saw them on the top shelf. you stood on your tippy toes trying to reach, but failed miserably, you rolled your eyes and began to get on the counter, “ay ay ay.. i got it, don’t hurt yourself princess.” jay quickly hurried around the counter, grabbing you and setting you back on the floor, and easily reached up to get the noodles, “why are they so high up!?” you sigh, “maybe because since i cook the most, i put it on the shelf i was comfortable with.” he chuckled, “the top shelf? jeez man you’re tall.” you giggled, he smiled and kissed the top of your head before handing you the noodles.

-

SIM JAEYUN:

you and jake were visiting your parents, jake was very well with his presence around them, you were just glad your parents liked him, you got up suddenly from the living room to go back to your childhood room, everything was still left the same way you left it when you turned 18. it was so nostalgia. seeing the pink walls, the pink bed sheets, all the stickers and things you decorated your room with. it was all coming back to you at once, making you smile, your eyes suddenly widened once you remembered you kept a box with all your memories you wanted to cherish in your closet, you walked over to it, and opened the door, seeing the blue box with a ribbon over it on the top shelf, pushed back. damnit. you only pushed it so far because you didn’t want anyone grabbing it and going through it, you stood on your tippy toes in an attempt to grab the box, but it was no help. you sighed and frowned, looking around to find anything to boost you up, jake then came in the room, smiling as he looked around the room, his smile suddenly dropped once he saw you, “hey? are you okay, what’s wrong love?” jake walked over to you, “could you teach that?” you pointed up to the box pushed back on the shelf, jake smiled and reached up, grabbing it effortlessly before handing it to you, “thank you.. i couldnt reach it..” you giggled, “i know.. it’s okay, you’re welcome. now in return can we look through it together?”

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PARK SUNGHOON: (slightly similar to jakes^^)

sunghoon decided to take you out and spoil you, he took you to damn there every single store in the mall, giving you his card to buy anything you wanted, he would just follow around and adore the way your face lit up at different things, but the way it faded once you saw the price tag, “don’t worry about it babe. get what you want. it’s my treat.” he would remind you, and would also carry all your bags. you guys decided to make one more stop at a bag store, since you wanted a new purse. you walked in the store and began to examine all the purses, but one caught your eye, it was so pretty. it was a black purse with a silver outline, only problem was, it was on the top shelf. you turned to ask sunghoon to grab it, but he was slightly far away, looking around for himself. you sighed and tried to climb up on the shelf a bit, reaching your arm up, but you couldn’t reach, suddenly you feel a presence behind you, a arm next to yours grabbing the bag effortlessly, you turn around and was met with sunghoon, “you could’ve just asked me.” he chuckled and handed you the bag, you smiled and shook your head, “thank you.”

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KIM SUNOO:

you and sunoo always had these self care days, every saturday he’d come over and you two would do face masks, skin care, each others hair and more, which led you to in your bathroom, as he set all his skin care down on the counter, “want me to do your skin care this time?” you ask him, he smiled at you and shook his head, “no, my turn.” he nod and pat your head, making you giggle. you washed your face and pat it dry with a towel, sunoo then grabbed the toner, and you stood in front of him so he could apply the toner onto your face, but he tilt his head, “hm..” he says, he suddenly picked you up off the floor, making you squeal, he sat you onto the counter, and smiled, “what was that for?” you giggled, “it makes it easier since you’re eye to eye with me.” he shrugged and softly applied the toner to your face, you couldn’t help but blush, he was so cute without even realizing it, “are you blushing or is that the toner?” he grinned, “just the toner.” you nod, both of you knowing it was definitely not the toner.

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YANG JUNGWON:

you walked into the practice room, you came to cheer your boyfriend on as he practiced for their recent comeback, he stopped dancing and went to pause the music before running over to you, wrapping his arms around you, “missed you.” he chuckled, “you’re sweating!” you groan as he held you anyways, he pulled away and smiled down at you, “here to cheer me on?” he raised an eyebrow, you nod and smiled up at him, “cute. but first, let’s take a selfie.. so i can save it?” he asked, “sure!” you nod and grabbed your phone, you two walked over to the huge mirror in the room, you went to your camera and held up the phone, only problem was, jungwons face was cut off, due to him being taller than the entire camera, you giggled, “lean down!” you tap his arm, he looked at the camera and noticed how he wasn’t even fully in the frame, he chuckled and wrapped his arms around you before leaning to rest his head on your shoulder, the perfect pose for the perfect photo, as you snapped the camera 3 times. “it’s so cute.” you smiled looking at the results, jungwon not leaving your shoulder, “you’re so cute.” he smiled at your phone.

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NISHIMURA RIKI:

finally, riki had a free day from his schedule to spend time with you after it felt like years since you two had quality time together, and the best way he wanted to spend his free day with you was to go to an amusement park, you guys were holding hands, walking down the amusement park, trying to find any ride that caught both of your eyes, you two turned your head, revealing to you was a huge green rollercoaster, “this one!” you point and jumped up slightly in excitement, he chuckled at your cuteness, “okay then, cmon.” he pulled you along as you two went to the line. before you guys got in line, you saw the “height requirements for ride”, niki chuckled and pulled you to him, then motioned you to stand beside the line that you had to reach, “uh oh, looks like you can’t ride..” he says, you groaned, you were just one inch below the required height for the ride, “damnit! what about you?” you asked him, he walked up to it instead, and expected, he was ABOVE the whole damn stick. “you are literally a giant.” you giggled, “you’re just short.” he scooped you onto his back, “it’s okay, let’s find something else to ride, okay?” he asked you, you smiled and wrapped your legs around him as he began walking with you on his back.

a/n: it’s been a while since i’ve done a ot7 post.. how we feellllinnn? should i do them moreee? i also didn’t pre read so srry for any errors if their is any haha