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#at least i'm old enough now to just laugh at it all
shadykazama · 2 days
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Did you get a request? It's headcanons for Haarlep, Dammon, Rolan, and Zevlor accidentally confessing to their gender neutral crush who likes them too. Thanks!
Sure thing! Sorry I took so long 🥲
Haarlep, Dammon, Rolan, and Zevlor accidently confessing...
Haarlep ❤️‍🔥
Was it even an accident? He's very calculated, wins every game he plays- at least in HIS eyes he wins and that's all that matters~
After you come to the house of hope and Raphael is dead, Haarlep goes back to his old master, Mephistopheles. But an archdevil like that rarely has need for an Incubus like him, so he's mostly free to play.
He uses your glamour often, but it's simply not the same as tasting your flesh himself.
He'd visit you every now and then, to get a "refreshment" on you, since you were so very sought after by his hellish clientele.
But one night in the midst of a mind numbing session, he let's slip, "Oh little mouse, if I could take you back to the hells and feast from you each night, I would~"
You'd both pause, and he'd make a perfectly surprised expression, complete with wide eyes and a hand covering his open mouth. His tail curled up deviously.
Whether his exaggerated expression was to cover up his own surprise or the fact that he'd planned to say it all along- you'll never know, but suffice to say the course of your relationship became much more... intense after that.
Dammon 💙
After the savior of Baldur's Gate told everyone who'd been supplying their gear on their adventures, Dammon was flooded with work!
He honestly couldn't thank you enough- but at the same time, there was a part of him that missed being your go-to. He rarely saw you these days, too collapsed with work to see you for long whenever you'd drop by.
But as fate would have it, he'd gotten a break on the very same day you'd decided to drop by.
Despite the promise of work, Dammon's eyes lit up upon seeing you, and he quickly wiped the sweat from his brow to greet you properly.
He was shocked to find however, that you hadn't come to ask anything of him. Rather, you'd remembered from one of your conversations that he'd said he loves the smell of a certain rare flower. That it would become more potent in the heat of his shop, and drown out the smell of iron and sweat. Aaand you'd just so happened to come across a few on your latest journey.
He'd laugh as he took them from you, holding them to his nose to take in the smell.
"Ah just as lovely as I remember, but not half as lovely as you, I'm afraid..."
Just as soon as the words left his lips, his cheeks lit up brighter than his furnace.
Despite your surprise, you still manage an endeared smile, he ends up scattering to apologize but you cut him off with a kiss.
Rolan 💜
Getting saved by you was starting to get old
You were just some stupid adventurer!
Some stupid, reckless, brave, incredibly hot adventurer.
So when his newly found position as the owner of Sorcerer's Sundries was threatened by some idiot who opened an entire wall of cursed tomes...
He shouldn't have been surprised that you showed up.
You were either messing with him or had some divine luck of being wherever someone needed help- ESPECIALLY when it was him. You were there on each of the worst days of his life recently, like some haunting good luck charm.
He grimaced as he watched you. This would take hours to clean up- but at least the entire building wasn't destroyed.
And here you came, sauntering up with that shit eating smirk to proclaim how lucky he was that you were dropping by today for a specific book.
And 'ohh he could give it to you for free as a reward~'
He couldn't roll his eyes harder, but he also couldn't help the smile that played his lips at your dramatic antics.
He didn't know what compelled him, but he leaned down and placed a chaste kiss on your lips, pulling back with a victorious smirk and a blush on his cheeks.
"There's your reward, hero~ You can pay for the book."
Zevlor 🧡
He'd left them. Gods he couldn't believe it.
In his own stupor of glory he'd left his people to the absolute's mercy.
How many died? He wondered, as he made his way out of the mind flayer colony.
He'd been saved, but did he deserve it? It didn't matter- he had people to protect right now and this time he wouldn't fail.
He greeted his people with relief- and with shame. His apologies could be endless, but what he did he could never forgive himself for.
"Zevlor?" A voice called out softly amongst the crowd.
His head tilted up in recognition, hope bubbling anxiously in his chest.
And there he saw you. His heart soared, and then sank all at once.
Out of everyone he'd meant to protect- everyone he'd failed, you were the one that stood at the forefront of his mind.
His head hung in shame as he greeted you, but he was met with no sharp words, nor disappointment. Rather, warm arms that drew him in close.
You were crying, he could tell from the way your body rocked against his, and you squeezed him like you weren't sure he was real. "You're alive."
Zevlor's heart melted as he embraced you, drawing you back to dry your tears. "I'm so sorry, my love."
Your face lit up at the name, and you squeezed him closer once more.
"Never stop calling me that, and we'll call it even."
Sorry if zevlor's seems lackluster 😅 I don't know much about him, but I tried to do him justice. Anyway, I hope you liked it 🫶
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nekohime19 · 2 days
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Mini Mac #7 : When you're emotionally allergic brother have a crush
Let's go for some brotherhood shenanigans! I like writing in Azure pov, it's fun to see them struggling to understand SWK!
“Brothers, what would you do if you wanted to court someone?”
Azure spat his wine and coughed, strangled by his own drink. He saw, from the corner of his eyes, the rest of the brotherhood have similar reactions. Bull King was leaning on the table, folded on himself, his coughs shaking the table itself. Peng threw his glass at the Monkey King, persuaded he was some sort of evil spirit stealing his skin (of course Sun Wukong evaded it easily). Yellow-Tusk dropped his glass on his lap, mouth hanging in shock.
“You're alright, brother?” Asked Azure once he regained a semblance of calm.
“Yeah, why are you asking?” Chuckled the great sage as he stuffed his face with fruits, mainly peaches.
“Because you just asked for advice on courting!?” Answered Peng, indignation strong in his tone.
“What's weird about that?” Questioned the sage with a raised eyebrow.
“Everything!” Shouted the demonic bird.
“Brother, you're interested in someone?” Asked Yellow-Tusk, and this was what they were all curious about. Sun Wukong, the most emotional allergic monkey in the world, the one obsessed with peaches and warfare, the one who never bothered with common demonic traditions before, was interested in someone? It sounded unreal, Azure couldn't even fathom how his brother would be when in love. In all honesty, he thought his brother was the kind who couldn't feel this sort of thing, the kind to not have any sexual or romantic desire in their life.
“Why are you all so shocked? I talk about him all the time! Maybe your old ages are catching up with you, brothers.” Azure ignored the comment about his age (and how it was quite hypocritical of the centuries-old monkey to make jokes about one age) and focused on what was truly important : Sun Wukong had talked about the person he was interested in and said person was a him.
“You did mention someone while drunk, is this it ?” Asked Yellow-Tusk with furrowed eyes. Now that he thought of it, Azure remembered his brother gushing about someone in his drunken hours, but he never took it seriously. Sun Wukong was the type to gush about anything, really. He gushed about a particular shiny rock last week.
“Yeah! Maybe, I don't really remember. But I'm sure I talked about him!” Laughed the great sage with a beaming smile.
“And so you wish to court this person? How long did you two even know each other?” Asked Bull King while serving himself another glass of wine.
“A few months.” Nonchalantly answered Sun Wukong.
“Isn't it soon for initiating courtship then?” Questioned the lion with an indulgent smile, he knew his brother wasn't used to the ways of courtship, so he probably didn't know demons waited for at least a year of acquaintance before initiating any romantic advances. “Are you even sure of your feelings?” In all honesty, if his brother was really serious about this affair, Azure would gladly encourage him. But courtship was no light matter, and the lion wouldn't want his brother to embarrass himself or this mystery person to be hurt if the sage's feelings changed in the middle of the courtship. The brotherhood knew their littlest brother well-enough by now, his interest was usually a fickle thing, never staying in one place, always wandering.
Sun Wukong put down the peaches he was eating, something he rarely did, and narrowed his eyes in thought.
“What do you mean by that?” Asked the golden-furred monkey as he tilted his head.
“What Azure Lion means is that courtship is no laughing matter, brother.” Explained the Bull King. “We never saw you being interested in anyone before, so it is surprising news. You have to make sure you are indeed in love before initiating any sort of courtship.”
“Well then how do I make sure I'm in love?” Questioned the great sage, Azure winced at this question. Love was a rather difficult topic for war-driven beasts like them, he threw a glance at Yellow-Tusk (the most emotionally sensitive of them) and hoped he would have some kind of answer to offer.
“Love can be different depending on the person, it comes in all kinds of forms. You have to question yourself. Do you feel excited around him? Do you wish to see him often? What kind of thoughts do you have about him? Are you attracted to him? You have to sort out your feelings.” Answered Yellow-Tusk, as always the wisest among them.
“Just ask yourself if you like him like any shiny pebbles you always brag about or if you want to fuck him.” Added Peng while he took a new glass of wine.
“Does it really have to be sexual?” Sighed the sage with narrowed eyes, unbothered by the bird's rather crude words.
“Like I said, love can come in many different forms, it doesn't have to be sexual, but it is good to ask yourself if it is.” Replied the elephant.
“Okay, I get it. I mean I don't even know if we could have any intercourse, it wouldn't even fit.” Chuckled the great sage, Azure Lion raised an eyebrow at that, he knew his brother was shameless but this was rather crude compared to his usual humor.
“What, you think you're too big or something?” Snorted Peng, obviously mocking the golden-furred monkey for his outrageous confidence.
“Obviously I am.” Huffed Sun Wukong with the utmost seriousness, Peng choked on his glass and barked a laugh. “Do you even see me, Peng? I'm obviously too big for this.”
“I would prefer if we do not see how big you are, brother.” Winced Azure, not wanting this fest to turn into some dick-measuring contest. “How about you just make sure you're in love?”
“Yeah, I'll do that.” Shrugged the golden-furred monkey as he sat up and stretched. “In fact I'm gonna head back and see if he's still awake, maybe he'll want to see the moon again tonight.”
“Alright, stay safe, brother.” Called Azure as he watched the sage jump on his cloud.
“Who knew the Monkey King could be interested in courtship.” Huffed Peng once Sun Wukong disappeared from view.
“Truly surprising news.” Agreed the Bull King.
“I hope the person he's interested in will share his feelings.” Sighed the lion.
“Don't be such a worrywart, Azure. Even if he's a fool , I can admit this guy didn't gain his title of Handsome Monkey King for nothing, the man he's pining for will be at least intrigued by his good looks.” Replied the demonic bird as he rolled his eyes.
“That is true, in fact weren't you the one who was a bit infatuated with the simian when you first met?” Lightly teased the Bull King with a knowing smirk.
“We promised to never talk about this.” Groaned the lion. “I was young and easily swayed.”
“Fooled by appearances.” Snorted the bird. “I'm more intrigued about what this madman would do for courtship, and if it ends well, what kind of person could even love this chaotic mess.”
“It'll certainly be interesting to see.” Chuckled Yellow-Tusk.
+ memes
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++ cut scenes
SWK *at one brotherhood fest* : and I found this gray rock who reflected the light in such a way it made it look as if a rainbow was dancing on its surface! 🤩
Azure *with a tired smile* : That is impressive, brother. 😀
Bull King *at Yellow-Tusk* : how many rocks did he mention in the last hour? I lost count around five. 😑
Yellow-Tusk *at Bull King* : 45. 😐
Peng *after noticing there wasn't any wine left* : Just kill me already. 😩
Young Azure *looking at SWK playing with his monkeys* : He's such a benevolent King, truly responsible, and very handsome too. 🥰
Now Azure *looking at SWK throws up after drinking three sort of alcohol at the same time* : we will never talk about my crush on him ever again. 😩😐
SWK *after considering Peng suggestion of inrercourse a bit more* : But I think that if I used magic I could somehow make it work. I mean magic can do a lot of things, so I'm sure I could shrink myself to the size of a doll to do it. 🤔
DBK *baffled* : Why would anyone want to be the size of a doll during intercourse? 😳🤨
SWK : why wouldn't you be the size of a doll with someone like Macaque? You are weird if you keep your actual size during sexual endeavors. 🤨🙄
Peng : You're the weird one here, what the actual fuck? 😶😨
Azure : I don't even want to imagine what you would do with such a tiny size during sex. 😰
Yellow-Tusk : How about we change subjects? 😩😬
Azure : I didn't know you were gay, brother 🤔
SWK *thinking gay only means cheerful* : of course I'm gay, I'm always the life of the party! 😆
DBK : how is being the life of the party related to you being gay? 🤨
SWK : What are you saying? Of course you're gay if you're the life of the party, that's obvious. 😉
Yellow-Tusk : I wasn't aware of this rule... 😅
Peng : You're homosexuality aside- 🙄
SWK *Who has never felt like this for anyone beside Macaque and thus doesn't thinks himself as an homosexual* : I'm not homosexual. 😀
Azure :?? 🙃
DBK :?? 😐
Peng :??😩
Yellow-Tusk :??😑
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theclaravoyant · 3 days
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Ripples (Hen, Tommy) - 1400wd
AN ~ i am obsessed with sweet, sweet platonic content and the hentommy moment we may never get, so i'm giving us one.
In the middle of a building collapse (because of course they are), Hen and Tommy catch up. Read on AO3 (~1500wd)
-
It's coming down!
The ear-shattering screech of steel and concrete is the only thing Hen can hear for a long moment after she throws herself forward into the hallway. The roof is holding out here, although the concrete dust isn't helping as the air is becoming dangerously smokey. A torn electrical line spits out aimless sparks. But she's okay.
Grimacing against the oncoming headache, she gets to her feet and takes stock.
“Ravi, you okay?”
“Partial floor collapse back here when the ceiling came down,” Ravi reports from somewhere out of sight. He coughs. “I'm down a floor, but I'm okay.”
“Kinard?”
Nothing.
“Tommy? Come in.”
“Hen?”
His voice is weak, but she's not just hearing it through the comms. Hen turns back to the pile of rubble, sifting through sheets of ceiling plaster and trying to pinpoint where it's coming from. Soon enough, she sees a hand wave.
“Got you,” she assures him. “How you feeling?”
He groans. She frowns as she clears the last of the lighter debris, and can see why, because of course he's not been lucky enough to catch a bit of plaster and plywood. He's stuck face-down, the whole back half of his body pinned under probably a half a tonne of rubble.
“My leg,” he advises. “Right's okay I- I think. Left is really- oh, Christ, I think it's twisted up pretty bad. At least it was. I can't- I don't think I can feel it anymore.”
Tommy's breath shakes like he's fighting off a panic attack as Hen requests assistance. Possible spinal. Even when she manages to get both of their halligans under there and relieve some of the pressure, there's only so much that can be seen from here of his bloody mess of a knee. She can only confirm that it's highly unlikely his toes are actually moving. And sure, it means maybe nothing but maybe it means a pinched nerve or amputation or permanent paralysis or, or, or – in other words; no more being a firefighter, no more being a pilot, no more of a lot of other things too probably and that hurts so much more than the fact that half his body's being pulverised into the floor.
“Come on now,” Hen challenges gently. “You know better than to take it to the worst case scenario.”
He nods as best he can down here. He's starting to feel cold and shake and it's got to be some kind of stress response. Is he going into shock?
“I also know better,” he manages, “than putting myself on the call roster for the craziest firehouse in LA.”
“Yeah, well. We all do stupid things for pretty boys, hm?”
He can picture it, the smirk on her face; equal parts compassion and mischievousness. It makes him feel warmer and stop clenching his jaw. He hadn't even realised he was doing that. But she's right, and she's picked a hell of a time to bring it up, and it's working: thinking of Evan and his boyish smile and his big blue eyes brings his heart rate down, steadies his breathing...
Hen settles in beside him. She's close enough to check his brachial pulse, or grab him and yank him forward – possible spinal be damned - if anything else goes down, but as it is, they wait.
After a few breaths of reassuringly collapse-sounds-free silence, Tommy asks:
“So, how's Karen and Denny?”
It almost makes her laugh. He's still face down and bleeding under a roof and for his tone, they could be stood free and clear around an average office water cooler. Ah, the life of a firefighter.
“They're good,” Hen assures him. “Great, actually. You know, Denny's almost fourteen?”
“Wow. Way to make me feel old.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Evan tells me you guys have a daughter now too?”
“Mara,” Hen updates him. “She's nine. Came to us through foster. She's been through a lot but we're getting there. She's really strong, and she's working really hard, you know, to heal.”
“Good, that's good. Sounds like she's got a bright future ahead of her,” Tommy congratulates. Then a more sombre tone settles into his voice. “Sounds like someone else I know.”
It's something about having your whole life and livelihood hanging in the balance that brings out this sort of confessional in people, Hen knows. She's both always wary of it, and also sort of addicted to the kind of radical honesty that constantly spilling your literal actual guts tends to inspire. So even as she tries to get out - “Tommy, we don't have to do this,” - she braces herself to accept whatever is about to come next as if it's the last thing he'll ever get to say.
“I'm sorry I was such a dick to you,” he says, “back in the day. I wish I could say I just got caught up in the machismo and stuff but honestly I- I didn't know any better. And I didn't really want to try. But you, and Chim, you're some of the best firefighters out there and I didn't give you guys your due and I'm sorry.”
Tears prick at Hen's eyes, and it doesn't help the sweat and smoke and concrete dust that's still settling all around them. She'd patched over these wounds a long time ago but it feels nice all the same, freeing in a way she hadn't anticipated, to get an apology she was never going to ask for.
“You know,” Tommy continues, softer now. “I think you saved my life.”
“Uh, pretty sure I'm up to about six counts of that,” she jests, because she can feel it coming;
“I'm not talking about in the field.”
There it is.
Hen's breath catches in her throat as Tommy finds the courage to recount it. She's felt it coming for a long time now, maybe even years, but certainly since he'd strode into Chim's hospital room all giddy and covered with soot and with Buck she'd kind of wondered. Wondered what her crying and demanding to be seen in the middle of the firehouse floor all those years ago might have actually done. It had done a lot for her, but she'd never quite be ready to hear, let alone to contemplate, what those words might have done for a man who'd grown up in a military family under don't ask don't tell – the same policy that had kept Karen's dream out of reach until it was too late. For a man who'd not grown up having and valuing marginalised experiences; not having a bad-ass, butch as hell mother who'd always taught her to speak her truth, even if that truth was something said mother had struggled to deal with at first. He'd been taught how to be a man and a gentleman and a soldier and not much else. He'd never realised what intimacy could actually be like, what love could actually be like; he'd thought he'd scared off every girl he'd ever had because there was something abnormal about him. Something fundamentally unloveable.
“... Bits and pieces, looking back – you know how it is. I'd just always sort of thought there was something wrong with me. I'd never really seen any other possibility. Until you. So. I know I'm late to the party, but for what it's worth – I see you now, Hen. And I am honoured to call you Captain.”
Hen nods, trying to swallow the lump in her throat as some of those tears splash down her cheeks. In spite of herself she feels something reach back in time and touch her fierce, heartbroken younger self; a promise that it's going to be worth it one day.
“It's worth a lot, Tommy,” she manages. “Thank you.”
Then, the radio crackles back to life.
“Cap,” Eddie reports, “Ambulances from the 133 pulling up. 118 should be on you now.”
Footsteps clamour down the hall toward them, as Ravi, Buck and Chim rush in, backboard and hydraulic jack in hand. Chim pushes the morphine, Ravi pushes the pain point of the rubble away, Buck and Hen slide Tommy out and even though he yelps and moans Buck can't hide the joy and relief that breaks out on his face as they flip him onto his back and slide him onto the backboard in swift, perfectly matched unison like a well-oiled machine.
“We've got you,” Buck promises, squeezing one of Tommy's trembling hands with a sweaty, giddy smile. He glances over at Hen, and checks in - “You good?”
What do you think it is? he'd asked her once. The secret to happiness?
He's in the middle of a burning building, and it looks like it's pouring out of him now.
“I'm great,” she replies. “Let's move.”
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potatocrab · 1 year
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the secondhand embarrassment I have in deciding to look up my old old OLD fanfic account and finding a treasure trove of FOB fanfic written in 2006-2008
and then deciding to read it 
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bumblebeesfromvenus · 2 months
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TF141 getting a boudoir photo album as a wedding gift ♡
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
A/N: THIS WAS SO FUN!!! Great, absolutely phenomal idea, dear anon. Simon's part is very sappy (I cried) which might be ooc for him?? Idk, that's how I write him/interpret his character! :) let me know who's your favorite 👀
~Fi 🐝
《Warnings》: NSFW content. proceed with caution. PiV, creampie, cunnilingus, Johnny's oral fixation (yes, that is a warning.)
It's still very sweet and lovey dovey with all of them bc I'm a certified sap <3
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
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─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
John would be grinning and smirking like a proper idiot when he lays his eyes on those delectable photos of you.
I imagine you had a date night at home, sipping wine on the couch and talking about your wedding that's supposed to take place in only 3 days. He's telling you how he can't wait to see you in your wedding dress and slip that ring onto your finger.
Be prepared to he called Mrs. Price the days leading up to the big day. John excuses it with "Need to practice, love. Don't wanna mess it up in front of anyone, eh?"
Sneaky bastard.
He knows what he's doing, you know what he's doing, all is well because if he only knew what that did to you. You're just talking, trying to get the nerves out now so you can go into your wedding with a clear mind and have a good time. When you tell him you have a gift for him, his eyebrows almost overshoot his forehead. Yeah, he knew that was a thing some people did, but he never gave it another thought.
In all honesty, marrying you was the best gift he could ever get. Which is why he feels slightly guilty that he doesn't have one for you (at least that's what you see, internally he's crushed) but that all goes out the window when you sit back down with a sleek beige photo album that has a little romantic quote on the front.
"And what's this, doll, hm?" His heart feels warm and fuzzy, thinking these are some lovely pictures of you together on holidays you went on, casual trips to the local pub or just some domestic shots you managed to sneak during his leave.
What he doesn't expect, however, is the angelic image of your plush body on full display, draped over a velvet chaise lounge with layered pearl necklaces hanging from your neck. This man is shell-shocked. If he wasn't frozen in place, he would've snapped the book shut.
You can basically see the connections to his brain frying. His jaw slacks, and only after what feels like 10 minutes he regains his ability to think and close his mouth. John is sweating and his cock is rock hard as he flips through the remaining pages.
He shoots you the occasional glance while he's trying not to hyperventilate. You just sit back and savor your wine, trying to hide your laugh behind the rim of your glass. You'd expected a reaction, of course, but you didn't think you'd render the John Price speechless just from a few suggestive photographs of you.
But what absolutely breaks the camels back (or John's, in this case) is the last picture of you. You're kneeling, slightly leaned back and supported by your arms, with one of his Flannels covering your soft tits. That alone would've been enough to drive him crazy, but the sight of his old dogtags sitting against your sternum has him groaning out loud.
The only other thing covering you is a simple pair of lace panties, cupping the soft curve and rolls of your tummy so beautifully, John was ready to take a bit out of that damn page.
He nearly misses the inscription underneath the photo;
To my John; the love of my life, the man of my dreams,
I love you.
You hold my heart and you will forever.
May I be so lucky to find my place in the stars by your side when the time comes, so we'll never have to be apart.
With all my love,
Mrs. Price
And that does it. The album snaps shut and you barely have time to put down your wine glass before John is all over you, taking handfuls of you, whatever he can reach. With how fast he smashes his lips on yours, he nearly gives you whiplash.
He's tugging and pulling at your clothes as well as his own, not saying a thing, just hungrily swallowing every one of your sounds and giggled objections before he decides the couch is uncomfortable and he moves you to the bedroom. You're hoisted up without a warning and you cling to his neck. Immediately, worried words start spilling from your lips, remembering how he'd complained about a sore back just today;
"John, baby, your back-"
"I don't give a flying fuck about my back, love."
He's heaving and grunting like a fucking animal, he's downright feral. Despite all of that, you're still laid down gently on the bed, John would never, ever be reckless with you. But he needs to be inside you now, he'll actually lose his mind.
Usually, he'd spent hours between your thighs first, but he just can't wait. He's pounding you into another dimension but with such gentleness in his gestures, it makes your head spin.
He's holding your hand, breathing sweet praises into your ear despite him filling you to the brim. His urge to claim you goes haywire and he fills you with his cum multiple times before he's sane enough again.
He's covered in sweat and his beard is wet from your spit from all the sloppy kisses he gave you. John will definitely make it up to you and eat you out for as long as you want after.
He'll make a copy of one of the photos and take it with him when he's on deployment, just for the nights he's feeling lonely.
His wedding gift to you are the hickeys on your thighs and tummy and new sheets because you two tore the other ones to absolute shreds.
♥︎
Johnny would probably have a boudoir album for you, too. You get at least one shirtless pic a day, so a whole album of his body on display or in suggestive poses basically screams Johnny. He's already drooling the second he spots that book because he knows what it is and that he's in for a treat.
He's buzzing with excitment.
You never really send nudes for privacy reasons, and then for you to do something like this hit him like a truck in the best way possible. You're standing opposite from him behind the kitchen counter, and you look so nervous to him.
Cue his signature shit-eating grin. You tap your fingers on the dark blue album before having enough of your nerves and just sliding it over to him with a few mumbled words of what it is.
"Awe, for me, mo leannan?" He's a teasing bastard, and he chuckles when you huff and turn your head, obviously flustered. Johnny is legit licking his lips, but when he opens the book, his grin fades so fast.
He knew it would be good, but holy shit, this was so much better than he expected. His pupils dilate as he takes in each of the pictures of you, all of you, all your curves and bumps.
Everything he loves about you. God, you're such a woman, he thinks to himself. Some with lingerie, some without. He's full on drooling at this point, and the only reason why he roughly wipes it away with the back of his hand is to not get it on these sacred images.
He smirks at the picture of you in a tub, all soapy, with pebbled nipples. An obvious dig at his nickname, but, god, does your ass look amazing when it's covered in a thin layer of bubbles. He loves lathering you up in the shower and feeling you up while you're all wet and slippery.
"Good thing I can hold my breath, aye, hen? Might even try to set a new personal record." He's grinning and chuckling meanwhile you give him a sharp glare. You can't deny that the idea intrigues you, though.
But this, oh, this one was him swallowing thickly. It's you in very sheer panties (they're barely even underwear) and his name patch is sewn onto the front. Your hair looks so nice, so do your thighs, he doesn't know whether to look at your eyes or your tits. The button on his jeans is about to pop off from his throbbing boner.
He can't take his eyes off that 'MacTavish' patch that sits right on your lower belly, with the slight curve it has to it from your soft tummy.
Johnny has to hold himself back from gripping the book too hard. He wouldn't want to ruin it.
"Steamin' bloody Jesus, bonnie..."
The album is shut and tucked under his arm, and Johnny jumps over the counter to get his hands on you. Or his mouth, more like. He has a huge oral fixation, so he loves sucking and biting on every inch of your skin. You're pushed back into the bedroom, even though you end up on the floor, and the book is thrown onto the bed.
He rips your shirt up and sucks at your tits and nipples, groaning and moaning at the taste of your skin, all while he's rubbing his clothes cock against your leg. You end up on your hands and knees with one of Johnny's hands on your lowerback while his face is buried in your cunt.
He's eating you out like he's been starved for years, and his stubble is already starting to irritate the skin of your thighs and ass.
You'll have the worst case of beard burn in the morning, but how could you care about that when his tongue is so deep inside of you?
Remember when I said he'd have a boudoir album too? Yeah, now you're in between his legs, your back pressed to his chest with Johnny's album in your shaky hands. And the way your engagement ring catches the dim light of the room has your eyes rolling back.
And Jesus christ, Johnny looks fucking phenomal. You clench around his fingers hard, and he doesn't even have to pull his head from your neck to know what photo you're looking at.
He's smirking and grinning like the ceshire cat, knowing that the image of him in a kilt with no shirt one is gracing your field of vision right about now.
"Ah knew ye'd like tha' one, bonnie..."
Johnny's cooing in your ear, telling you to keep looking at the pictures while he's knuckle deep in your pussy. His bare dick is pressed against your ass and you can feel him rocking his hips to get off.
He's mumbling all kinds of gibberish into your ear, but one of the few things you can make out is "mo bhean"* which pushes you over the edge. You won't be leaving that bed anytime soon.
*(My wife)
♥︎
Kyle is such a sweetheart. I've said it before, and I will say it again, he's such a cutie pie!!! But that doesn't mean he can't or won't get nasty.
He'd offered to make lunch, which was delicious as always, and now you're chatting casually about your day at your dining table. Your fingers are laced together, and he's wearing the biggest smile because all he can think of is how he gets to marry you in just a few days.
He's over the moon. He can't wait to see you walk down the aisle, say your vows to each other, and overall have a great time with all your friends and family.
But the thing Kyle is looking forward the most is the honeymoon. He'll have you to himself for 2 whole weeks and he's stoked. He can't wait to treat you to nice things, love on you, but he's the most excited to fuck you as your husband.
He may look sweet and 'innocent' but this man can fuck, okay. And he fucks well. He knows every little spot that has you mewling and he's so good at using them for his gain.
Kyle will fuck you into the mattress in the Hotel you booked, he's already made up his mind about that, but he wants to absolutely melt your brain by being so loving whole doing it that you can't help but cry out for him.
He has heart eyes at this point, watching you talk about all that happened today and he only snaps out of his dream world when you present the deep red album to him with a sweet smile.
He's got a hunch of what it is so there's a hint of a smirk on his lips. Still, he almost gets whiplash when he opens it.
There's no easing into it, just straight up tits, ass and tummy. And let me tell you, Kyle is loving every second of it. It's no secret that he loves your chub, and that fact that it's extenuated so beautifully in every shot makes his heart and his cock happy. He's a very balanced man after all.
He comments on every single photo because he think it's endearing how you get all flustered and giggly from his compliments.
One picture that has him taking a second, though, is one where you have a lacy band tied around your thigh, with a little golden 'Kyle' charm hanging from it. He's all smiley and giddy, but he does try to discreet adjust his trousers because, holy shit, that's hot.
"Have you still got that, dove? Would love to see it tied around your pretty neck."
All you answer is that he'll have to be patient and wait till the wedding night to find out. He's laughing and teasing now, but just what till you get to the last page, Gazy.
And the way his smile just melts off his face is priceless. His gaze is flitting between you on the page and you sitting across from him with a shot eating grin. All the blood that drained from his face went straight to his dick.
Not only are you wearing a set of lingerie in his favorite color, but you've got his iconic pair of sunglasses hooked on the center of your bra. And that's not all either, his eyes travel upwards and his base cap is sat on your head and you've got that beautiful smile of yours on your face.
He makes an audible noise, one that indicates you took his breath away, when he takes in the whole picture.
"How in hell did you manage to snatch my hat and my glasses from right under my nose?!"
"Skilled hands, babe."
He's laughing at you breathlessly because he's still enarmoured by the sight of you.
And Kyle will absolutely whisk you away and fuck you stupid in front of your bedroom mirror while you're wearing his hat.
It makes him feral, seeing you like that. He's got both of his arms wrapped around your middle and he's panting into your shoulder. He does look up from time to time to see your blissed out face all while still wearing his cap.
He lets out a strained moan everytime he looks at you in the mirror and his hips stutter ever so slightly.
Kyle is just spewing jumbled words of love because he's genuinely so happy. You make him so happy.
He honestly can't wait to give you your wedding gift. It's a little booklet filled with poems or quotes that reminded him of you, or of how you make him feel. And it will make you cry when he reads them to you.
Definitely not because he'll be ballsdeep inside of you while doing so...
♥︎
Simon, Simon, Simon.... first of all, he's completely blindsided by this. And he hasn't got a fucking clue what's in that black book you hand him one night when you're cuddling in bed.
There's just a giant question mark above his head. When you tell him it's a wedding gift, he goes silent and just looks at that album in his hands.
He never really got gifts, which obviously changed since he's been with you, but he's still not used to it. You're so thoughtful. And sweet. And kind, and perfect and-
he turns his head to you when you softly call his name and if you notice the slight sheen of tears in his big brown eyes, you don't mention it. You just encourage him to open the book. And when he does, a small huff and gentle smile leave him because how are you so perfect?
Yes, all of the pictures are all filthy, but they're all radiating of love and softness, and he can't get over it. How are you so soft? Simon can't get enough of you. You mess up his emotions in ways he never thought possible, and he can't help that his heart starts beating twice as fast.
That you did this for him means more than you could ever fathom, and he'll treasure this album until his end. He absent mindedly reaches for your hand as he flips through the pages, trying to tell you thank you when his words fail him, like they did so many times before with you.
He comes across a shot of your neck, a black leather collared fasten around it with a little silver skull charm. It makes him smile just a bit. He knows just how much meaning is behind it.
That you love him. All of him, which includes the Ghost. In cursive, 'Riley' is written right above your heart, and he gives your hand a squeeze.
Although you love the Ghost because it's a part of him, you've shown him that it's not all he is. That Simon is enough. That he should give Simon a chance and that he's not incapable anymore, like he was as a little boy. Ghost is sort of a protector of Simon, something not many people know, that's why he wears the mask outside of duty too. To shield himself.
But as much as the Ghost's service is appreciated, Simon can handle himself now. The Ghost will forever be with him, but so will you, and you'll wipe his bloody hands with a smile. You've shown him that you accept Ghost just as much as you accept Simon, and that means the world to him.
He sniffles ever so quietly, and you lean your head against his shoulder, pressing a kiss to his cheek. He moves on, gently turning the pages, and as much as his heart is touched by your kind gesture of this album, that doesn't stop his cock from stirring. It's pictures of your naked form, after all.
He loves every single inch of you and he's told you and shown you so many times, kissed all your insecurities away and took your mind off any bad thoughts about yourself by fucking you so well and lovingly to the point of tears.
Never, in a million years, had he expected you to return these efforts. You kissed all his scars and held him softly when reassuring any doubts he had. That's when he truly and fully fell in love with you.
He can feel himself getting hotter with every passing image of your soft body bent in different positions and clad in delicate garments, if any.
The best for last, as always, and it's a picture of you kneeling in front of a mirror, completely nude. A picture of Simon in full military regalia is tapped to the mirror and it's surrounded by a bunch of hearts drawn on with lipstick.
His name is written under the picture in your handwriting, and he can see you holding a lipstick, in the middle of finishing another heart. His breath hitches just for a split second.
He swears he'll burn this photo into the back of his eyelids.
It shows him just how great and raw your love for him is, and it makes him all fuzzy on the inside. The text at the bottom finishes it all off, and he's actively holding back tears, overwhelmed by so many feelings for you.
Dear Husband,
We're flawed; but that's how I like us. You're you, and I'm me, and I wouldn't change it for the world. You've made me a better version of myself, and that makes me love you so much more. I'm so proud of you, Simmy.
Love,
Your wife
"Thank you, my love. Thank you for this, and for loving me and for everything you've done for me. I love you"
His words are soft and painfully honest as he gently sets the album aside. You've made him a better man. A better Simon. A happier Simon. A Simon that's slowly starting to heal.
It starts off with a soft kiss that slowly turns more desperate and needy to the point you're gently being pushed back onto the bed, your clothes are discarded, and Simon absolutely worships you. He kisses every inch he can reach and touching you in all the ways he knows you like.
And, yeah, Simon can be rough and fuck you stupid for hours, but tonight, he just wants to feel close to you, and make you feel as good as you make him feel by simply loving him. He's talking you through it, holding you while he makes sure you take every inch of his cock.
His strokes are slow and deep, just like his love for you, and he revels in the way your eyes roll back each time he slides into you to the hilt. The drag of his dick against your walls has you moaning and whining, and when he presses down on your pudgy lower belly to intensify the sensation, you're putty.
You two fuck the whole night like this, no matter how sensitive you are, you need to be close to each other.
And in the morning, he'll wake you up with his face buried in your pussy because he's out of his sappy mood and his only goal now is to absolutely ruin you.
Bonus: I can totally see Simon giving his dad the biggest middle finger known to man all the way in hell when he's standing by the altar on your wedding day. It just screams: 'fuck you, stupidly bastard. Despite all you've done to me and my family, despite all that's happened, I've persevered. I've overcome it all. Look at me now.'
Right after he's smiling up at the sky, knowing that his mum and brother are watching and that they would've loved you just as much as he does <3
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
I hope you enjoyed!! I love all my boys <3
(If you find any typos, it's 2.am. give me a break pls)
1K notes · View notes
chososdiscordkitten · 2 months
Text
I'm Stuck!
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artist: yunonoai on twt
Synopsis: Gojo buys new washing machines nd chooses a shitty placement for em ⸜( ´ ꒳ ` )⸝
Pairing: Gojo x Fem!Reader Content: smut, implied reader is thicker than a snicker, established relationship, teasing, r gets stuck between a wall nd said machines, dirty talk, multiple orgasms (f), a sprinkle of manhandling, he refuses to admit he's wrong, cream pie
(a.n) if u wanna see what I picture- look at this
MDNI
When you first moved in with Gojo, you became all too aware of the fact that he was very particular about his design choices. Almost all your suggestions were vetoed the minute you would offer them.
And when the cheap washing machines that came with his apartment broke; You saw this as an opportunity to control at least one room in the now-shared apartment.
You stood beside Satoru in the laundry room- eyeing the small space and telling him, “If you put them here,” referencing the back wall of the rectangle room, “-it’ll feel more open.” you pointed at the wall. Looking at his pensive expression. 
Gojo was just petty enough to ignore your suggestion. Holding a measuring tape and looking at the 28-inch mark. “The website says they’re this big-” looking up at you as he measured. 
Even if you were kinda right- Satoru wanted to put the washer and dryer pair on the opposite side. Leaving only the entrance of the small room- and a small gap between the wall and the massive machines. 
You parted your lips- about to speak. Remembering the photo Satoru had shown you of the machines- far better and more modern than the old ones that opened at the top. 
These new ones had doors that opened outwards- and as you looked at the gap between where the machines would go, and where the wall was. You were sure they wouldn’t be able to open fully. 
But you held your tongue- knowing Satoru would mull it over for a few days before telling you that you were right. 
The space was small- sure. But you were sure it was enough space to fit through, and besides, how long would Satoru let those machines sit in the wrong place before calling someone to help switch their placement. 
On the day of delivery, Satoru looked at the machines as though they were his pride and joy, like he was the one who did all the washing in the house. 
The way the handymen looked at your idiot boyfriend was laugh-worthy. “They’ll go against that wall”, he instructed. 
You were sure the men struggled more in placing them where Satoru instructed than if they just flipped them and pushed them to the back wall. 
Satoru generously tipped them for their efforts, and once they left, you stood at the small doorway. Looking at the washing machines placed against the wall as though it were a laundromat.
“I hate saying it-” he clicked his tongue, leaning against the machine and looking at you smugly. “But I told you so~” 
You grinned- amused at how right he thought he was. You winced, “Do me a favor real quick-” fighting off the laugh about to rumble from your chest. “Open one of the doors.” 
Satoru furrowed his eyebrows at your request, dragging a hand down to the circular door. Smugly popping it open, only to hear it ding against the wall. You puffed a small laugh from your nose at how his face fell. 
“And..” you started, walking towards him and fwipping your hand up and down- guiding him to move. 
Stepping into the small gap between the machine and the wall with the door open, and letting a small giggle leave your lips as your thick thighs pressed against the metal. 
Satoru looked down at your hips that were flush against the machine- he measured how much space the machines took up. But Gojo didn’t account for the space you would need to do laundry properly. 
You turned your head, looking at him over your shoulder. Watching him pull his lips to the side, thinking up some snide remark about how he was still right. 
Even a week after having those machines in the most inconvenient place- Satoru refused to admit he was wrong. He refused to call the handymen back and have them move the machines where you told him to. 
You were more affected by his mistake than he was. Bothersome little doors that had hit you more times than you could count when they would bounce off the wall. 
And all the times you would feel your hips brush against the open machines- you would furrow your eyebrows. Recalling how petty he could be. 
Truth being- Satoru hadn’t called the handymen to fix the minor problem because when you first stepped into the small space of the laundry room- Seeing your thighs press against the machine made him hope you would get stuck one day. 
As though he had manifested it- the day came.
You were doing laundry per usual- struggling with the stupid doors and growing more and more irritated by the second. 
And when you thought you were finally finished- slamming the dryers door shut and hearing it whirr. 
You turned around to see a discarded sock on the ground, thinking nothing of it and stepping back into the small space- hips pressed against the slightly protruding door of the dryer. Picking up the sock with a small huff. 
Straightening back up and aiming to take a step back. Only to feel resistance from the wall- you tried shifting with even more strength. Only for the wall and machine to refuse to let you go. 
You looked to the machine- recalling all the times this very same scenario had happened. Wondering what went wrong this time. And seeing the clear plastic bubble-like door trap your hips. Add that with the bending- causing your hips to widen in the slightest. 
You sighed- frustrated that you had actually managed to get stuck in the small space. You tried a few more steps- a small wiggle, a aimed step back- nothing worked.
And wearing mini shorts- practically underwear that left your plush thighs exposed against the wall and the plastic door. Knowing it would only hurt if you pushed yourself out. 
You held the stupid black sock in your hand as you contemplated calling out to the idiot that waited for you in the living room. 
You shouted his name once- waiting a few seconds to see if he would come running to see what was wrong. 
Only Satoru was sat with a handful of unfolded socks in his lap, watching the show you normally watched together- so focused on the scene playing out before him. 
You closed your eyes- cringing at the cliche you were in. Calling his name once more- with more urgency and a gruff to it. That’s what pulled Satoru from his focus on the tv show. 
His hand reached for the remote and pressed pause- trying to determine if he was just imagining things or if you actually called out to him. 
And when you called out to him a third time, Satoru tossed the socks from his lap and ran to the laundry room. All the urgency in the world.
Worried you had seen a bug, or a home invasion- or every single dangerous thing he could picture happening. Running into the room asking you what was wro-
His lips parted in amazement once he saw your bottom trapped between the machine’s door and the wall. Staring at your exposed thighs and the crease of your ass.
“Don’t just stand there- go get some baby oil or something to get me ou-” Satoru reached a hand out to your bottom, causing you to silence your directions. His cheeks flushed and eyes glimmering full of the possibilities. 
Satoru sighed and smiled, looking up to the ceiling with closed eyes to thank the deity that had granted him his wish. 
Looking back down to your ass- slightly bent and you trying to reach a hand back to push him off, all but telling him again to go get something to help you out. 
But knowing your boyfriend and his peculiar tastes- this was brewing in his mind from the minute he saw your hips against the small space. 
“I prayed for this.” he whispered, earning a small ‘what?’ to leave your lips. 
Satoru placed both of his hands on your bottom, his long fingers sliding beneath the light fabric of your shorts. Softly groping at the skin and peaked his eyebrows. You only clenched your jaw and closed your eyes. 
Hearing the ramblings of the man behind you. “You should’ve just listened to me.” you scoffed, planting your hands on the wall in front of you as though Gojo was doing a body search, trailing his fingers down your clothed core. 
His eyes dimmed- watching the light goosebumps form on your skin, lightly pressing his fingers against the little mound beneath your shorts. Earning a small exhale laced with a whimper to leave your lips. His other hand groped firmly at your ass, enjoying the view below him. 
“No. I know now I was right not to listen to you.” Satoru grinned menacingly, watching your hips try to shift against the whirring machine next to you. 
The tips of his fingers against your clothed core making you let out a shivering huff. “You still want me to help you out?~” Gojo asked- too smug to be considered as a genuine offer.
Satoru made light circles on the little mound at the top of your cunt- shivers running down your thighs as you tried to muster the words. 
“You must’ve planned this-” he scoffed, trailing his fingers to the side of your shorts. A small damp spot formed on them, telling Gojo all he needed to know. “Prancing around all day wearing this-” 
You parted your mouth- feeling the cool air hit your dampening cunt that pulsed with every accusation he spouted at you. 
Satoru sucked his teeth- placing the tips of his fingers on your clit, causing a small gasp to fall from your throat. You let out a ragged breath, his fingers starting small circles against you. 
Trying to keep your legs from buckling at the slow pace Satoru held. A small ‘tsk’ left his lips, full of feigned disappointment. “Tryna tempt me allll day.” The smile evident in his tone. 
You only breathed a small whimper at his words- knowing it wasn’t true, but what state were you in to deny it? 
“M’pretty sure I saw your pretty pussy a handful of times~” he purred- fastening his pace in the slightest. 
Your breathing took up in pace- trying not to let out the small moans Satoru was pulling from you with every small circle he made against you. 
The bulge in Gojo’s bottoms grew with every little whimper you let out- his hard cock twitching beneath the fabric as soft moans left your lips, landing in his ears as harmonies.
“If you wanted me to fuck you that badly-” he hummed, quickening his fingers and hearing the low squelches coming from your cunt. Knees threatening to buckle as Satoru trailed the hand on your ass up your slightly arched back, pushing up the hem of your t-shirt. 
“All you had to do was ask, baby.” he cooed, watching your hands on the wall start to slip as your moans became louder, feeling Gojo’s hard bulge pressing against your ass. Desperate to get some kind of friction, whereas you- were desperate to finish. 
An orgasm so close it had one of your eyes shut and the other threatening to follow its movements- “You didn’t have to scheme up ways for me to fuck you.” he teased, trying to dig your fingers into the wall as Satoru watched you come undone, cunt clenching around nothing. 
Feeling your core pulse onto his fingertips, small shivering sighs leave your lungs as he works you down an orgasm. You steady your breathing- becoming more aware of Gojo’s bulge pressing onto your plump bottom. 
You clenched your teeth- Satoru’s fingers trailing from your clit down to the source of the slick that coated his digits. The other resting on your side to stabilize you. Wouldn’t want you to come unstuck too soon now. 
You were glad you were faced away from him- your vision bordering on going double and the heat rising to your cheeks just thinking about the cliche you were in. Thinking of how easily accessible you were to him at that moment. 
You started feeling his fingers dip into your entrance- too slow and far too eager to prep you. “Just-” you huffed, feeling his hand halt its movements. 
“Just. Fuck me.”
Quiet- but clear enough for Satoru to hear you. 
Huffed and urged as you said it- it made Satoru realize you were unwilling to go through his teasing prep- and in no possession of the patience needed for it. 
Gojo bit his lip slightly, being able to see the tenseness in your shoulders- it wasn’t about him having a good time anymore. No, your tone made it sound like he was depriving you of something.
Satoru wasted no more than a second in tucking the hem of his shirt between his pearly teeth- a smile on the corners of his lips as he watched you writhe. All but telling him to hurry with the puffs of frustration leaving your lips. 
Though his mouth was busy trying to hold his shirt up- his messied hand pulled from your cunt and landed on the band of his shorts, you could hear the muffled giggles of amusement leaving Gojo’s lips as he slapped the tip of his cock onto your ass. 
Leaky as he was, Gojo still wanted to hear the words from your lips. “Tellme-m’right” he spoke with clenched teeth- muffled and barely legible and in a smug tone. 
You scoffed- biting your lip and peaking up your eyebrows. Knowing Satoru is just petty enough to pull away from you and jack off till he spurt his mess onto your ass. “You were right.” you mumbled, earning Satoru to release the shirt from his teeth with a smile.
“What was that?” lightly tapping your entrance with his tip as your hands pressed onto the wall again- planted to stay upright. 
You sighed. “You were right, ‘toru-” you spoke clearly, earning an appeased hum from Satoru. 
Taking his hand from his base- quickly taking off his t-shirt and lining himself up with your cunt. The only thought in his mind was praising himself for what a good idea the machine’s placement was. 
The second he slowly pressed his tip past your entrance- both you and Gojo could feel the difference between when you would be prepped compared to now. 
Soft ringing in your ears as you let out a soft moan, a light sting pulsing in your cunt as he eased himself into you. 
And Gojo- he swore he could cum right then and there had it been up to him. His eyes threatened to fall back into a soft roll as a groan tried leaving his throat. Falling from his lips with the sound of a whimper laced in it.
Even if Satoru had slid inside of you countless times- it always made his go vision blurry. Never getting used to how warm and welcoming your cunt always felt against his cock. 
Satoru spouted a curse- mixed with a whimper as he held onto your ass, bracing himself as he felt your cunt suck him in. 
With clenched teeth- “S-so fuckin’ tight-” he gruffed- making sure to give you enough time to get used to the light sting before he pulled his cock from you. Hands gripping too harshly on the malleable skin of your ass. 
His cock felt a light breeze hit the skin lathered with your essence, wasting little time before thrusting back into you- setting a slow but deep pace. 
Shutting your eyes tight as Satoru’s thrusts caused your hips to move against the harsh plastic and the wall. 
A few more rolls of his hips were all you had to spare- “Satoru I’m gonna fall-” you huffed, feeling his hands grope at your ass firmly- some attempts to assure you that you wouldn’t. 
A light sheen of sweat formed on your thigh, causing you to actually start slipping with every little thrust Satoru rolled against you.
Though he was whining behind you, he could feel your hips start to give against the machine’s door. 
Gojo mustered all the strength he could, dragging his cock from you. Allowing his leaking tip to kiss your entrance ever so slightly as he gave a hard yank against your hips. 
Hearing a low grunt of relief as you felt yourself come loose-only for Satoru’s hands to move you to the free edge of the machine quickly, aligning himself up with your entrance again. 
Pressing his heaving chest against your back- bending you over as his head rested the crook of your neck. Clenching his teeth with a low whimper- your hands planted against the whirring machine- bracing for him to bottom out. 
Only Satoru planted a hand atop yours- grasping it lightly as he slid himself in slowly. 
A sharp exhale took the form of a whimper as it left Gojo’s lips, invading your ear as you raised yourself onto your tiptoes. Giving his cock a new angle, his flushed tip nudging your sweet spot. 
A choked moan left your lips, the hand on your ass rising to your neck. Pulling you back to his chest and forcing your back into a harsher arch. 
Satoru sped up his pace- barely pulling out and prodding the spongy gspot his cock curved into. Barely pulling his hips from your ass with frustrated whimpers leaving his lips. 
His hand mindlessly rising to the side of your face- your parted lips huffing out small whimpers welcoming his fingers. Hooking the digits that brought you to your first orgasm, onto the side of your mouth as he tried to keep a steady pace. 
You could feel he was still holding back- unknowing why he insisted on keeping a medium pace with his thrusts. You clenched your walls around him in the slightest- “F-faster ‘toru,” you huffed, slightly muffled from his fingers in your mouth- earning for his hips to halt and his hands to raise. 
Satoru gulped- his cheeks flushed and ears hot as his hands hooked onto the ditches of your elbows. Pulling your arms back in tandem with dragging his cock out.
Gojo knew that whenever you bark an order, you were giving him permission to do what every part of his brain was yelling at him to do. 
And as he felt the very tip of his cock reach the taut circle of your entrance- he clenched his teeth, inhaling before pushing himself in.
His thrusts were rough- too deep as your shoulder blades pressed against each other- clearer moans falling from your lips. Satoru’s forearms pulling you back with every harsh thrust- unpatterned and sloppy as he whined into your ear. 
Your calves started tingling from being raised on the tips of your toes. And almost as though Satoru heard you- he released one of your arms and reached down to your thigh. 
A smile took shape in a huff- “Up we go~” he grinned with a breathless tinge. 
Assisting you in resting it on the top of the machine, now easily at level with his rough hips. The foot on the ground barely touched the tile- half of your body on top of the machine as Satoru grabbed a handful of ass. Biting his lip as he looked down to your cunt linked with him. 
With every tenacious thrust Satoru rolled against you- he watched your ass bounce. 
And as though it was instinct, Gojo pulled his gripping hand from your ass and gave you a firm spank. 
You whimpered in response- shutting your eyes and muttering a strained, “Fffuck!” his hand soothing the warmth rising onto your bottom- clenching his teeth with muffled groans leaving his pursed lips. 
Your hands pressing onto the top of the machine as some sort of attempt to brace for Satoru’s quick drilling hips. Keeping yourself up on your forearms as his hand gripped the malleable skin of your ass. Groaning harsher and harsher as he felt his orgasm build in his tummy. 
Satoru knew you were close too- the moans you spewed were now shorter and more breathy. Your cunt twitching around him every other thrust- 
“Say m’right.” clenched teeth and a low tone as his thrusts became even more sloppy- bordering on raising himself from the ground from how harshly he was pushing you onto the machine. 
Gojo stopped his thrusts- nuzzling himself inside of you entirely. And staying still- knocking the air from your lungs with a gasp- “Say.” pulling his cock , “I’m.” a firm thrust, “Right.” urging you to with every deep thrust. 
You whimpered, knowing he was barely bumping his tip against your gspot on purpose. 
“You’re r-ri-” he continued his fast pace again- the words trying to make their way out of your lips. 
Satoru grunted with an amused smile- “I’m-” he sighed, “I’m what?” out of breath and edging himself.
You bit your lip, the knot in your stomach slowly slipping with every little thrust. 
Feeling his unforgiving hips nudge you closer and closer against the wall. Your jaw went slack-jawed as he refused to give you a second to answer. 
All it took was another firm spank to push you over an orgasm- cunt spasming around him as he grunted. Sudden tightness sucking him in with every pull he did. 
“You’re righ- fuck-” you moaned, “You’reright-” babbling as Satoru let out a breathy giggle. More than pleased with your mindless prattling. 
As Gojo succumbed to his own orgasm- you groaned lightly, feeling his seed coat your walls. Warmth filling your cunt as your eyes fluttered closed. 
Satoru rode himself down with slower thrusts, still reaching as deep as he could- but slowing them. 
Wincing softly as his tip got a shock of overstimulation, heavily breathing as he eased his hands from you. 
Leaning over your ass and placing his forehead onto the center of your shoulder blades. 
“Call the delivery men,” you breathed- sighing softly as Satoru rested himself atop you. “And tell them to move them.” you demanded- knowing that if they stayed the way they were now- more little instances like these would keep happening. 
Satoru huffed against your clothed spine. “You just said,” taking a breath and feeling his heart pound in his chest. “-that I was right?” keeping a teasing tone as you tried easing off the machine. 
Wondering how on earth Gojo managed to shift you from the floor to the top of the washer.
-
I luv him sm <3
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daydreaming-nerd · 2 months
Note
OMG I need pregnant reader x bat boys
That first one was so good thank you for that!! 🩷🩷
Pregnant Reader x Bat Boys (drabble)
This is part 2 to You Want A Baby?
AN: Ahh this was so highly requested I'm sorry it took so long. Also i've never really done a drabble and this is defiantly too long but I wanted to feed y'all as best I could.
Warnings: Pregnancy (duh), child birth, talks of sex?, not proof read (sry after writing Young Love Old Money 5 last night my hands hurt)
Of course your mates got you pregnant on the first try. They were the three most powerful males in the Night Court.
The day you found out was like any other, you were quietly reading while Cassian and Azriel were in Windhaven and Rhys was busy doing paperwork.
The sickness had been building all day and at finally come to it's precipice.
After about an hour of throwing up you went to see Madja who confirmed you were indeed pregnant.
You wanted to run home and tell Rhys right away but it didn't seem fair to your other two mates
So you warded yourself to keep your scent hidden and waited till Azriel and Cassian got home.
You sat on the edge of the bed the waiting for the boys to come to bed, clad in nothing but my black silk nightgown (this one was a present from Rhys)
The boys stalked in and the picture of me sitting innocently on our shared bed had them taking their shirts off.
It wasn't uncommon for you all to release built up tension after a long hard day, especially when the boys had to deal with Devlon.
"Wait there's something I wanna show you first," you smile standing up.
"Something you want to show us?" Rhys laughed knowing that when it came to the bedroom it was often the other way around.
You couldn't keep from smirking as you let the ward around me drop, my scent filling the room.
They inhaled long and slow before their eyes snapped open.
"You're?" Azriel asked.
"Pregnant," you smile watching as a million emotions float across their faces.
A beat of silence passes and then...
"WOOO HOOO!" Cassian roared. "We did it brothers!" he boasted clapping each of them on the back.
All of them came over to me to give me sniff, as if your new scent was addicting. You had to crane your neck up to meet all their happy faces.
"How far along are you?" Rhys asked caressing my face.
"Not very, only 6 weeks," you. smile feeling their warm hands roam my body.
"Well you certainly smell good," Azriel smiles burying his nose in my hair.
"Really?" you ask.
"YES," they all said in unison.
Cassian's hands find the hem of the night gown and start to lift it up peering underneath curiously.
"Cassain if you even think about putting your dick anywhere near her right now I will fucking kill you," Rhys growls.
"I'm not I'm trying to see if she's showing yet," Cassian said, eyes squinting.
"Cass it's too early for her to be showing," Azriel laughed at his brothers antics.
"Well she defiantly is, take a look." Cassian smiled pulling me flush to him and lifting my nightgown more so his brothers could see.
Rhys and Azriel squinted their eyes, clearly trying to see what wasn't there as Cass slid a hand over my belly.
"Cassian darling I think that's just my dinner," you laugh.
"speaking of dinner did you eat enough?" Rhys asked.
and so it began.
Ever since the boys had found out all chaos had erupted.
At first they wanted you to stay in the townhouse at all times. Literally locking you up and throwing away the key
That idea took you a long time to talk them out of but eventually you did.
Then came Rhys arguing that you needed at least 5 wards. Which Cassian and Azriel objected to as they wanted full access to you AND the baby.
Evetually you all settled on one ward. Strong enough to keep threats at bay, but weak enough so Cass and Az could touch you and your bump whenever they liked.
Speaking of bump, Cassian was determined to do a bump update everyday.
The man was DYING to see you with a bump.
"You think the baby will have wings?" you asked innocently while we all laid in bed.
Every night it was a fight for who got to sleep next to you as you unfortunately had an odd number of mates.
"Of course it'll have wings, look at it's fathers," Azriel smirked rubbing a hand over your belly.
"I don't know I wasn't in my Illyrian form when it was conceived," Rhysand states, his words reverberation through me from where my head was perched on his chest.
"Pfft please, I already told you it's mine," Cassian boasted from behind Rhys, clearly being an instigator since he wasn't getting to sleep next to me tonight.
"Cassian," Azriel warns.
"I know , I know. We don't care who got her knocked up just so long as she IS knocked up," Cassian smirks.
"Okay but what if the baby doesn't have wings?" I ask once more.
"Then we'll fuck another one into you until you have one that does," Rhys smiled pressing a kiss to my brow
"Oh we're putting another one in her either way. I want a whole litter of children." Cassian divuldged.
"You want that princess?" Azriel asked rubbing lazy circles over my barley there bump.
"Yeah I think I do." I smile.
The boys were territorial when you were barley showing, but the second the numerous dresses Rhys bought you couldn't cover the bump that's when things got scary.
The shadows. The fucking shadows
They were fucking everywhere.
Azriel had been freaking out ever since your guys walk the other day.
You had been taking in the fresh air of spring when a unknowing passerby slammed into you nearly knocking you over.
"WATCH IT!" Azriel screamed in his face his grip on the mans shirt like a vice.
The poor shopkeeper just about wet himself before running off.
"Now was that really necessary?" you asked, crumbs falling out of your mouth from the 3rd chocolate croissant you had eaten that day.
"He nearly knocked down my pregnant mate, he's lucky I let him off with a warning," Azriel murmured clearly still pissed.
"You Illyrian babies," I roll my eyes finsishing off the croissant.
Azriel just sighed and dug his hand into the paper sack to pull out my 4th pastry.
Ever since then his shadows seemed to follow you everywhere.
If you dropped something? The shadows would pick it up.
If you had troubles walking? there was always a dark mass helping you to the bathroom for the 10th time that day.
Every time the baby kicked? The shadows swirled around you to make sure you were okay.
And boy did that baby kick...
Cassian was the first to feel it.
It was a rainy night at home, Cassian was sleeping next to your belly whispering sweet nothings to it when it happened. He nearly jumped out of his skin, and you nearly did too from the pain.
"Ahh!" you hissed in pain.
"Darling what is it? Are you hurt?" Rhys fussed, leaving his desk to be there in an instant.
"What did you do?" Azriel growled at Cassian who was still staring wide eyed at your bump.
"I'm fine he didn't do anything. The baby is just kicking." I grit out feeling another thump.
I blindly reach out and grab one of my mates hands and press it to my stomach.
I watched as the scarred hand flinched at the kick.
"Oh my god I can feel it," Azriel beamed, his eyes glassing over.
"Move I want to feel," Rhys ordered
Azriel was too hypotized to care.
"I am your High Lord, move" Rhys ordered once more and I swear the room shook.
"I'm getting kinda tired of that phrase too aren't you Cass?" Azriel rolled his eyes.
"Yeah she's our mate too," cassian grumbled.
They spent the night taking turns getting to feel the baby which became a nightly occurrence.
Out of all your mates Rhys was the most doting. He had an entire wing built onto the townhouse for the baby.
He even used his magic to enchant the ceiling of the nursery to look like the night sky so it would be starfall in there every night.
Rhys didn't like to admit it, but he loved baby shopping with you.
"Oh Rhys look at this one can we get it?" you smile holding up a little onesie.
"Yes darling of course," he chuckled in amusement, he had probably heard that phrase a million times.
Your eyes scanned the shop of onesies and cribs, you already nearly everything in the store. But the shop owner always made sure to let you know when there was a new shipment as she knew Rhys would buy his pregnant mate just about anything she asked for.
"Oh my god Rhys please the baby is going to need this," I shout holding up the bat plushy. "Please, please, please, pleaseeeee"
Rhys laughs walking over to me to take my hands in his.
"Darling how many times do I have to tell you? You can have whatever you want." he smiles placing a hand on my bump and pressing a kiss to my forehead.
Fae labor was no joke, there wasn't a single aspect that didn't hurt like hell.
Rhys didn't send Cassian or Azriel away on any missions in the weeks leading up to your due date so they could be there.
Your water broke when you were standing in the kitchen reaching for a glass on the top shelf.
The scream you let out is enough to have Cassian running in from the other room.
"What is it princess? Are you okay?" He asked kneeling down to where I sat on the floor.
"The baby is coming," I winced through the pain, taking Cassian's hand in mine and squeezing with all my might.
That was the good thing about having big, strong Illyrian's as mates. They were fucking durable.
"oh shit," Cassain murmered his eyes searching for some kind of answer of what to do. "RHYS! AZRIEL! THE BABY IS COMING!"
My other two mates winnowed there are lighting speed from where ever they were in the house.
It wasn't long until Rhys had me in his arms winnowing us all to Madja.
"Help her please," he pleaded, my cries of pain clearly affecting him.
Madja had Rhys bring me into the birthing suite and lay me down. I could see the worry on all my mates eyes as they watched me write in pain, sweat grazing my brow.
"How can we help?" Azriel pleaded.
"You can't, you must leave us to work," she said referring to the other healers already pressing cold towels to my face.
"Over my dead body do I leave her side right now," Cassian grumbled.
"Do you want her to die? You'll only be in the way general. Use your head." she argued ushering them out and locking the doors.
The hours in between the closing of the doors and finally giving birth were brutal, not only for yo but for your mates.
They sat outside the door and listened to your screams the entire time.
Azriel nearly ripped his hair out from the sounds of them.
They nearly jumped to their feet at the sound of a baby crying from inside.
But then they heard you a screaming again.
Any happiness died out.
After a few minutes they heard the baby crying again and your screams stopped.
15 minutes later Madja came out holding not one but two small bundles in her arms.
"congratulations, you are the proud fathers of two healthy baby boys," she beamed.
Twins
Rhys and Cassian took the twin boys in their arms, as Azriel was too scared to touch them at first.
"They have wings," Cassian beamed running his hand over the tiny wings.
"Is she?" Rhys asked Madja.
"The mother is perfectly healthy. She needs to nurse the babies, but she insisted that I bring them to you first." Madja smiled.
"can we see her?" Azriel asked.
"Of course you can," Madja said.
The boys carried the twin babies in to see you once more.
You reached out your hands for the one in Rhys arms, the oldest, by a few minutes. He gave him to you and thankfully he latched right away.
"You did so well mate," Azriel said placing a kiss on your forehead.
"How did you boys manage to put twins in me on the first try?" You rasped out, voice still horse.
"If you recall it was no small feat," Cassain smiled.
After feeding them both you slept soundly.
While Cassain and Rhys might've been the first to hold your sons, Azriel was the first one to fall asleep with them. One in each arm.
Taglist: @crystalferret202, @nickishadow139, @eerievixen, @why4anne, @loglady00, @heartless-tate, @callsigns-haze, @fxckmiup, @highladyivy, @highladyivy
Permanent taglist: @fides25
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tetsuskei · 2 months
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synopsis: when a coworker brings their baby to work, that sets off the gears in kuroo's head to have some of your own
notes: first installment of oh, baby! repost from my old blog, with some editing done. please enjoy!
warnings: mentions of kids, unprotected sex, praise, body worship, cock warming, kuroo is horny on an astronomical level
interactions and reblogs are appreciated!
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at first, everything is innocent. tetsurō knows his coworker only means well. but tetsurō should've expected that when ‘bring your child to work day’ came at the jva, that he'd encounter at least one infant.
his coworker asks him if he wants to hold their baby after catching him stare at the small child in awe. the resemblance between coworker and child clearly evident. he's so amazed at how strong genetics could be.
then tetsurō wondered how strong his own genetics would be when it came to your children.
to recall back, the conversation of children came up briefly between the two of you. you both decided that it would be logical to wait a little while before trying to have any. kuroo was focused on building up his career and so were you. you just wanted to have your priorities straight and be responsible. nothing's wrong with that, right?
and so the conversation had been left with a pin in it and you both moved on in life. you would question when to have children later.
when holding the child in his arms, kuroo only panicks for a moment (were babies always this small?) before the child naturally curls up into his chest. their tiny hand grabs ahold of his (ridiculously) large pinky before continuing to sleep soundly. they even coo with joy.
"they seem to really like you!" his coworker laughs. "you seem to be a natural with kids!"
tetsurō only crinkles his nose in confusion but he can't help the fluttering in his chest at those words. "i'm not really doing anything but holding them."
they laugh again and nod with understanding. "sure, but you seem to be the type to make a great father, kuroo-san. you're a good person. very patient and understanding. by the way, when do you and the missus plan to have kids?"
and so having been asked the question sent him on a spiral.
by the time he's asked, several years have passed since your first conversation about kids. both you and him are financially stable. you're both lucky enough to live comfortably, and you're both happy where you are in your careers. most importantly, you're both married.
honestly, just the thought of being married to you and having a little family turns kuroo on too much. but he wants to have a family that's better than the broken one he had growing up. the best thing he can do for his kids is show them a healthy and long lasting relationship with their mother. and god does he know he can do that. he loves you so damn much his heart aches. he'll walk across fire for you, and the best part is that he knows you'll do the same for him.
the man isn't really present for the rest of the day, having to be called out during a meeting for being unfocused, and eventually sent home after he lies and says he isn't feeling well. and it's partially true, because now that he knows he wants kids, he feels an empty hole in his chest almost as if a part of him is missing.
and if being 'sick' means trying to conceal the boner in his slacks, then so be it. he doesn't want to relieve himself of his problem, no. not when the only thing on his mind is cumming inside of you raw.
tetsurō comes home to the smell of your cooking, his second favorite scent right after you. just seeing you makes him crazy. he'd been thinking about putting a baby in you all day. his hands itching to get started.
you haven't seen him yet, but tetsurō doesn't waste anymore time. he simply eyes you intently, taking time to admire you and all the soft curves of your backside. your perfect ass. you feel the warmth of him before seeing him and that's enough to startle you.
a small gasp leaves your mouth as you look up at him surprised before a honeyed smile appears on your face. a smile that's only reserved for him. "hi! you're home earlier than usual."
he returns your greeting with a grin. "hi beautiful, how was your day?" he tugs you into his grasp. lean arms encasing you in his hold as he rests his chin on top of your head and massages your hips.
hips he knows that will bare his children.
"it was good tetsu, are you hungry? i'm finishing up dinner now, and we can talk about your day." you respond, focus retuned to the stove in front of you.
he has to admit, the food smells delicious, but he's hungry for something else this evening. and unfortunately he'll have to endure an earful from you later about letting the food get cold, but he doesn't mean any harm. he just has priorities.
he hums, turning you fully towards him. his eyes lower and become stuck on your stomach. brain stuck on the thought of you being round with his child. you would look so cute pregnant. your breast would be filled with milk, too. maybe you'll let him taste—
"'ro?" you voice snaps him from his thoughts. you try to make eye contact with him and he only smiles, not registering a single thing you just said. his large hands take your face in his hold and you feel his calloused fingers run over your cheeks before he kisses your nose and then all over your face.
"tetsurō, what's gotten into you?" you giggle. you didn't mind his affection, don't get it wrong, but there was something oddly...intense about the way he's acting that you know something is up.
the ravenette seems to contemplate his thoughts, carefully reeling over the words in his mind. "i just thought that...maybe we should start...tryin', that's all." he mumbles, mouth pressing kisses all over your skin. you shiver at his touch, at the way his scent and body crowd in on your space.
ah, there it is.
your cheeks heat up, and you know exactly what he means. his words always slur slightly when he's turned on, almost like he's delirious or hooked on lust.
that paired with his cock poking your backside through his slacks.
tetsurō only continues. "today my co-worker brought in the cutest little baby i'd ever seen. looked just like 'em, too. i didn't really understand how children could make someone so happy...but i'm startin' to." he explains, tugging off your pants and underwear in one fell swoop, the cold air hitting your folds makes you jump.
you swallow nervously, "tetsu—"
"made me realize how cute our kids could—will be. they'd be the cutest in the world, i'm sure. wonder if they'd have my eyes and your smile. and hopefully they'll inherit your hair or else we'll be in trouble." he laughs before he undoes his tie, then his shirt, and tosses the garments somewhere on the floor. his belt is undone next and he's quick to unfasten his pants.
you eyes widen, and your heart fastens at the mental image of a tiny child in your arms, the spitting image of you and kuroo.
your husband pauses again, his brows knitted in thought. "do you think...that i can be a good father? for our kids?" he leans his forehead against yours and closes his eyes for a moment as he must be pondering the very question.
“of course.” you nod slowly. "i don't think so, i know so. you'll be great with our kids, tetsu." you answer, running your fingers along his jaw.
"yeah?" he breathes, pulling down his pants along with his boxers. "do you still want some?" he moves your body so that you're sitting safely on the counter away from everything else.
"w-with you? yes..." you answer, voice getting caught in your throat as he prods his fat tip at your entrance. you're already soaked enough that you know he can just...slide right in.
kuroo's breathing becomes extremely labored and his gaze darkens at your words. his single strand of restraint is being pulled taut. "then can we? can we start trying, sweets?" his hands are groping at your chest and hips, and he riles himself up the longer he touches you without relief.
you barely say 'yes' before he pushes himself into you, his jaw going slack as he is enveloped by you, cunt warm and inviting and gummy walls pleasurable beyond means.
his eyes glass over and he's completely enamored by the fact that he can be this close to you. that you trust him to hold you like he is now.
you look up at him with near helplessness as his grip on your legs doesn't loosen up. the stretch of him never is something you think you can get used to, as you feel yourself struggle to adjust to his size. the heavy and thick fullness of his cock is intense. you can feel how it throbs with need.
"do you think—" he moans as your cunt drags over his cock, sucking him in more, "that they're going to be interested in volleyball?" he lets his tip kiss your cervix and you keen, causing a groan to escape his mouth. "you think they're gonna be a middle blocker like me?"
"are you really asking me that right now?" you sigh, fingers frantically gripping the counter beneath you. you move your hips against him and hope that will shut him up.
spoiler, it doesn't. "why not—fuck, just like that baby—it's a genuine question." he buries his face in the side of your neck, and the smell of your lavender soap invades his senses before his teeth choose to bite and scrape at your skin.
"you're such a volleyball nerd, tetsu." you laugh but soon moan as both of your hips move synchronously. "when are you not thinking about it?"
he huffs out a laugh, pressing a kiss to your temple as he presses you further into the kitchen counter. his lips linger against your skin before you felt them curve into a smile. "when i'm busy thinking 'bout your cute self, which is definitely more than volleyball."
you tried to formulate a response but only a refined moan escapes your lips again as kuroo pounds you. the sound of skin on skin filters out any remaining thoughts you had.
"you don't understand how crazy i've been goin' today." he grunts, nearly delirious in the way you cream on him so well. he can already feel himself twitch with the need to cum but as much as he wants to, he wants this moment to last a bit longer. he can't cum before you.
one of his hands lace with your own as he regards you. "been thinking about all the different ways to get you pregnant. of all the cute little maternity outfits you'll wear. of me taking care of you when you get tired and your feet ache. you're going to look so pretty carrying our baby, sweetheart."
he's rambling and you're not even sure if he's talking to you or if he's talking directly to your womb. but his words alone are enough to bring you to your first orgasm, pussy clamping down hard on his cock.
"jesus christ," he groans, struggling to keep composure, "it's like your cunt is trying to suck the life out of me."
you only whimper, legs quivering in a way you didn't know they could as you slip them tighter around his waist. with the way kuroo is bullying your insides he just might be successful at his agenda of getting you pregnant tonight.
he moves your legs over his shoulders, laying you down so your back is pressed against the cold surface of the marble counter. the new angle he decides to rut in you at causes you to cry out in surprise.
"so perfect, so pretty like this split on my cock. gonna be even prettier filled with my cum." his head bows so that he can kiss you and you eagerly meet his lips, the taste of him comforting, addicting, and familiar all at once.
he brings one hand down to your clit, moving his fingers methodically over your bundle of nerves as he coos and encourages you to cum again.
"tetsu, please," you whine, "you feel so good, wanna have your babies." the need and anticipation of getting your husbands cum is starting to make you frustrated yet needy all at the same time. yet the way he's making you feel right now makes you want this moment to last forever.
he must sense what you're feeling and hums, kissing you again sweetly. "oh you're not understandin' me princess," he breathes, hips moving in an animalistic way. "i'm gonna have you knocked up by the end of tonight. that's a promise."
"you promise?" you look up at him with doe eyes, mouth parted as little moans still escape you.
he'd give you the world if you asked. he'd pluck the sun from the sky, too. when he presses his forehead to yours he only professes his love to you like he's saying his vows for the first time. he can feel the tightening of his balls and burning pit in his abdomen as his release creeps up on him.
and when he pinches your bundle of nerves, you cum again for a second time. your eyes roll back in your head and your nails dig deeply into the muscle of his broad shoulders.
tetsurō nearly doubles over when his orgasm follows, and he spills thick, white cords of cum into you. his golden eyes look at you and you swear he cums just a little more from the eye contact you two hold. the hard throbbing and pulsing warmth he provides you makes you clench around him again, a feeling of wholeness and elation when you're finally full of him.
you're both incredibly still for a moment and you just hold each other. he sits you up with regard, and you brush back his sweaty fringe. his large hands massage your muscles before he carefully carries you to your shared bedroom.
he sits down and you realize you're both still very connected.
"t-tetsu!" you grab onto him, eyes widening as your taken by surprised at the new angle.
"fuck..." he hisses.
there's something sensitive in the way he moves inside of you, and you're not sure if that has to do with his cum inside of you or your cunt trying to hold in every drop.
kuroo always liked the notion of kissing your ring finger, because it reminded him that the two of you are joined—united. you start to speak but he does before you can even formulate the words.
"i hope you don't think we're done here." he murmurs, and by the twitch of his cock you know he's serious. him and his damned stamina. exhausted, you only shift your trembling hips to prepare for more.
it's looking to be a long night.
and so it's not surprising when several weeks pass by and when said coworker asks him again about kids, he proudly shows them the ultrasound photo hidden away in his wallet.
he only hopes that after baby number 1 you won't mind more.
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taglist (send an ask to be added): @boosyboo9206 @milkteeboba @kodzukenmaaa @honeybleed
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nariism · 7 months
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{REQ, ONLY IF YOU WANNA! <3]
Can you do a Wriothesley one where we take care of him when he's like sick or injured 👉👈 gotta treat my husband ykyk😞
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a/n: hii i'm sorry this is kind of late! got busy with life stuff so i died a bit. anyways please take this sickfic <3
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you've been spoiling him to no end.
if his sinuses weren't painfully congested and his throat didn't feel like he just swallowed glass, he would probably be smiling.
right now, he just feels miserable.
wriothesley has always prided himself on being the picture of health. to your utter jealousy, there was absolutely nothing in the world that could get him sick. even in the deepest winters with the chill of the sea sweeping over fontaine, he would walk around with only his jacket dangling off his shoulders.
you'd like to think that this is karma for all the times he rubbed in your face how he would never get sick.
"you didn't have to dive into the water like that," you scold him.
"i did have to," he replies stubbornly, lip jutting out like a child. you smear your finger across his pout to effectively wipe it off his face, laughing when his head falls forward against your shoulder in response.
"it’s just a necklace."
"it’s your favourite necklace." he quickly corrects, as if that would justify the extremity of leaping into the sea and not surfacing for three whole minutes.
"oh, sweetest..." you coo, holding his head against you and laughing again (much to his dismay) when he sniffles in a weak attempt to clear his sinuses. "you didn't have to do that."
you can feel him physically deflating in your hold so you stammer out: "but i really do appreciate you getting it back for me!"
the man just pulls away with a scowl, looking like a mixture of a kicked puppy and a cranky old dog. "you owe me for that."
"owe you?" you repeat in disbelief. "and what would you like, hm?"
"feed me."
"..."
his face lights up again with amusement as you freeze, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water trying to process what's just been requested of you.
if it were anyone else, you would have thought it was a joke. but you've known wriothesley long enough to know the telling pull of his smirk, the lazy yet smug expression screaming that he's being dead serious.
and, well, he did leap off a bridge 30 feet in the air after your charm slipped off your neck. and he did manage to recover it, returning to you like a matted wet animal all pouty and shivering from the cold.
the cherry on top of it all was that he insisted on clipping it back around your neck, prolonging his state of being drenched in freezing sea water and guaranteeing his sickness.
so... you suppose you do owe him this at the very least.
that's how ten minutes later you end up straddling his lap, warm bowl of porridge in one hand and a spoon in the other.
"open." you demand, spoon already squeezing past his lips. he chuckles, allowing you to feed him even in such a compromising position.
you look completely flustered, too. he can feel the tremble of the spoon in his mouth as he swallows his meal. maybe it's the iron grip he has on your hips. maybe it's the fact that your bulky, brooding, monster of a husband is acting like he can't feed himself.
either way, your embarrassment doesn't go unnoticed and you're sure he's enjoying every second of it.
"i should get sick more often," he muses.
you groan, realizing that you'd rather take his endless gloating over this.
"no... please don't."
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© ALABOADOA 2023 — please do not translate or post my works to other platforms.
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luveline · 7 months
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i can’t stop thinking about dating aaron hotchner and making a comment about how he’s beekeeping age and he’s like ??? i’m sorry what??
fem!reader
"Have I been in the news recently?" 
You squeeze Aaron's hand in yours and take a luxurious sip of your fancy drink. If there's one thing about Aaron, he's always buying you something nice to drink on days like today. "No?" you say after swallowing. "Don't think so." 
Aaron looks over your head. He's paranoid, with reason to be, but as far as either of you know he hasn't been in the press lately. 
"What are you looking at?" you ask. 
"They won't look when you're looking. Is there something wrong with my hair?" 
"Who's looking at you?" you ask, coming to a stop in the middle of the long walkway. You put your bag down on a low bench and twist to follow his gaze until you catch the wandering eye of a woman your age. She looks away when you spot her, a tell-tale hunch to her shoulders. "Ah." 
"Ah?" he asks. 
Aaron is tall, dark, and handsome. He doesn't seem to know this. He's nearly always frowning as he is now, but the formidable, intimidating aspect of him is somewhat softened when he's out in civilian clothing, a Starbucks drink in his free hand, and your hand treasured in the other. 
"You're, like…" You shrug at him. "You're beekeeping age." 
"I'm what?" 
"You know. You look like someone, a man, who spends his free time keeping bees. You look like you have a good job, and you're handsome." You offer him a sip of your fruity drink. He takes a sip, all the while looking lost. "I don't know how to explain it but I know it's what they're thinking." 
"So this is one of those jokes I'm too old to understand." 
"Not too old. Old enough to keep bees, evidently." 
"I really don't get it." 
"You're hot, Hotchner. Grow up." He laughs and takes another sip of your drink uninvited. You attempt to take it from him and he follows the straw. "Stop! I need this to last at least until we've finished window shopping." 
"You know I'll just buy you another one." He takes your bag and hooks it over his arm, pulling you in the direction of the next store. "After Barnes and Nobles. I could keep bees, couldn't I?" 
"No, because what all these women don't know is that you aren't home the majority of the month. You keeping bees will turn into me keeping bees, and I, regrettably, am not beekeeping age." 
"See, you made out that it was about the hobby itself," Aaron says, giving you a fond look, "but what I'm hearing now is that it's more to do with my age." 
"It's to do with wanting to sleep with you. Your age is a contributing factor to how attractive you are." 
"Nice save," he murmurs, giving your hand a squeeze. 
It's not a save at all. He really is more attractive for how old he is, but he's free to think you're lying. It's probably best if he doesn't understand the full extent of his charm —you spend the rest of the day fending off brave women with an icy glare. 
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yandere-romanticaa · 7 months
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𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓 who took a sudden interest in you once you moved to your new place. Finding this place was relatively easy and the rent was dirt cheap. The previous owner was also beyond eager to be rid of this property as soon as he possibly could be. His demeanor when he was showing you around the place was incredibly odd, not to mention that it made you feel jumpy. He was constantly toying with his hands, the sweat he was oh so obviously trying to hide had already created massive puddles all over his white button up, he even tried putting on some cologne and lighting some incense but nothing worked. You decided not to comment and chose to only follow him around, asking him the most basic questions anyone could think of. At the end of the tour the man had turned fully towards you, a big grin suddenly on his face as he raised his arms slightly upwards in a dramatic gesture.
"I'm sure you'll be very comfortable here. Take these keys - welcome to your new home!"
And with that, he was out the door and gone into the night. Holding the metallic key in your hand you closed the door shut and took one last look around the place for the evening. Unfortunately, you were in no position to turn down a place so cheap. It was this or the streets. It'll only be a few months, you had said to yourself.
What could possibly go wrong?
𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓, who had been following you around the moment you stepped foot into the place. At first he did nothing but observe as he needed to get used to you, his new roommate. It was enjoyable watching you live out your mundane life, cooking, cleaning and the sorts. He was also interested in your possible hobbies - did you read? Write? Paint? Play an instrument? He has been dead for quite a while now and staying dead can get very tedious and outright boring. He always got a little kick out messing with the owners of this place but there were times when he would go overboard. With a scoff, those thoughts were banished from his mind almost immediately.
It's not as though he was here completely alone. There were... others. Hiding in the shadows. Some more dangerous than others. The rest were human souls such as he was, unable to pass onto the other side. They weren't as proactive as he was as they were not too keen on the living.
𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓, who starts leaving you little clues and hints around the house. Old books that you couldn't possibly own, newspapers which dated all the way back to his era. A broken glass here, a suspicious handprint there. He particularly enjoyed praying on you while you occupied the bathroom. Don't get him wrong, he was no pervert! Heavens no!
... Maybe he was a little. No need to worry, it's not as though he can act out on any of his urges anyway.
But there was just something so vulnerable to see you so exposed, so completely alone in your element. There was no one else who could see you like this (he always laughed a little at your cluelessness). Your image was etched into his memory like a record that played over and over, if he had the ability to paint you, he would.
Watching became tedious though. He wanted and needed more.
Even in death, he was still just a man.
𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓, who was trying to get you to talk to him. By simply calling out to him was enough, at least at the start. There was an old ouija board hidden beneath an old bed and it was the perfect means of communication.
He just wished there were other, more safer options than that. He knew all too well that if a person was not careful they could summon something else completely.
That was how he got into this mess into the first place.
That thing would also catch wind of things. He couldn't allow that. Feelings he hasn't felt in decades started to come flooding back but they were even stronger than they ever were in life. Panic, fear and worry - they were all consuming and nothing could ease his mind. Even as he stood at the foot of your bed and watched your chest rise up and down, up and down, there was still no peace for him. He was bitter at your liveliness and your ability to breathe but at the same time, the softness of your cheeks and the song of your laughter became addictive, dare he say like a drug. He wasn't too fond of the fact that other people came over so often, that was not fair.
It was supposed to be just you and him! Even if you didn't know it yet!
𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓 who amps up the hauntings and starts becoming more aggressive. He is sick and tired of these games, he wants you all to himself. Windows are forced open and shut, books and other objects start flying off shelves in the dead of night and you even manage to catch a glance of him one evening in the bathroom mirror.
You tried running out the door, barely even dressed but he had locked all of the door beforehand.
His voice could be heard tandem echoes, all teasing and petrifying. He wasn't sure if he wanted you alive or dead anymore.
He just wanted you to stay.
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lxvebun · 18 days
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challenge accepted!♡
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synopsis: you're surprised when you find out he has not had his first kiss yet, you're even more surprised when he lets you be the one to change that aka your first kiss with Satoru<3
content: Gojo Satoru x gender neutral reader. Fluff!. Written with the highschool arc/satosugu friendship in mind so you'd be in the same grade together, but you can read it however you wish♡ Detailed descriptions of kissing. Around 650 words. Eng is not my first language. Not entirely proofread, lmk if there are any annoying mistakes♡
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He's the strongest around, the Gojo Satoru! He has everything he could want and he doesn't have to prove anything to anyone. He doesn't have to but he does enjoy doing so.
So when you and Suguru teamed up against him, giggling oh so cruelly because here he was spouting out dating advice, saying that Geto will turn into a "grumpy old man" if he continues to reject people's advances, when he hasn't even had his first kiss yet, he knew he had to fix that♡
⁎⁺˳✧༚໒꒱.*
"You don't have much of a say seeing as you haven't kissed, let alone dated anyone yet, Satoru.~" Suguru replies, voice still as gentle as always even when he's dealing with his best friend's nonsense.
You're not entirely sure why your heart skipped a beat at the revelation. Sure it's unexpected given Gojo's flirty nature and good looks, but it's igniting a feeling of something almost hopeful in your heart....you don't like him that, not at all, right? So why is the image of him pulling you in by your waist and dipping down to lock his lips against yours fogging over your mind?
You've gone quiet for a bit as you hoped to make sense of what you're feeling, not unperceived by your friends sitting next to you
"Y/n?" They speak at the same time. You miss the shared glance of concern
You're glad you can blame the afternoon sun for the sudden spark of warmth surging through your body.
"Sorry, yeah, I'm here" you reply a bit clumsily as you make the mistake of looking back at him and the words almost get stuck in your throat. he looks ridiculously handsome with the way his head is slightly tilted, enough to look at you over his glasses, blue eyes shining even brighter in the sunlight, and something as simple as that really shouldn't be as attractive as it is.
Just for a split second you see his eyes soften as he lets his gaze trace of your features before he nudges his glasses back in place and continues-
"You're supposed to back me up, you know?? Tell him!"
"There's nothing wrong with not having had your first kiss yet, Suguru" you say sweetly. Gojo visibly relaxes and that stupid infamous smirk forms on his lips as he nods along with your words. you stifle back a laugh as you continue, "Unless you're Gojo Satoru"
The flail of his arms is entirely dramatic and entirely in character. It's not helping that you can hear the snickering of Suguru beside him too.
He's quiet for a moment as he regains his composure, one of his arms now draped behind you along the bench. He takes his glasses off and hangs them on the collar of his shirt.
"Alright"
.....
"Alright?"
Your body registers it before your brain does, heart fluttering in your chest, a hitch in your breath as he leans in. He's close, but he doesn't close the gap just yet. You can feel his breath fanning over your cheeks and his intoxicatingly good, probably extremely expensive cologne envelops the rest of your senses, makes you a little dizzy as all you see, hear, and feel is him but he allows you enough space to back away if this is not what you desire.
Perhaps your heart already knew what you're mind was just trying to catch up to. You have fallen in love. Fallen in love with Satoru of all people.
You're sure that at least a minute has passed since he leaned in but he doesn't falter and patiently waits until you do finally give him the smallest of nods and then it's over for you, you've fallen too deep now and you cannot and do not want to come back from this, from him.
the kiss is sweet, almost too sweet if you didn't have a sweet tooth that could battle Satoru's. And for a first kiss it's quite heavy, a little deeper and longer than you expected and it continues to linger warmly on your lips when he finally pulls away, face a little flushed, eyes bright, and smirking like he just won the lottery
"Now, listen, Suguru" he begins but you tune it out. Too focused on trying to calm the racing of your heart, too enamoured with the memory of his lips on yours
Gojo doesn't remove his arm from around your shoulder but his other hand has intertwined with yours as he draws heart shapes on the back of your hand with his thumb, silently letting you know this was more than him just trying to prove something, silently letting you know, he'd be yours if you'll have him♡
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Thank you for reading, angels!<3
I haven't written for jjk in such a long time😩 but I started season 2 and I want them to be HAPPY
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marlenesluv · 11 days
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hi there. can i request a fluff one shot with Max Verstappen? Where basically he is secretly dating Danny Rich’s sister, and one time Daniel wanted to surprise her sister back in Perth when he noticed that the house felt different. Like she has like 5 dogs that would always happily greet him, but they didn’t that time cause the dogs were happily with Max and Daniel’s sister. Cheers x.
Puppy Love. (MV)
note: awe, this is so cute!! for sure i can do this :) i hope you like it! (sorry this took so long) also, i made it so daniel didn't know about them at first, hope that's okay!
pairing: max verstappen x ricciardo!reader
warnings: none! this is j fluff
masterlist here -> masterlist link
^ check my list for all posts! ^
Daniel Ricciardo knew his sister never wanted to move out of Perth. She loved the beaches and the warm weather. So visiting Monaco was usually out of the question. But when he saw his sisters Instagram story, he questioned that logic.
She posted a photo of dinner with Carmen, George, and someone he couldn't make out due to the photo being too blurry. Which, he figured, was on purpose.
Y/n, on the other hand, was enjoying her night out with Max, George, and Carmen. Carmen was the only person who knew that her and Max had been secretly dating for about six months now. She assured Y/n that George wouldn't tell anyone, despite some people thinking he's a gossip...which he is. But he swore to keep it private. He understood them being nervous.
"You okay, liefde?" Max asked, seeing you look at your phone with furrowed brows as you bit your bottom lip.
Exhaling, and sending your response to Daniel, you smiled up at Max and nodded. "Daniel's just texting me. He saw my story, wanted to know why I was in Monaco randomly." Max hummed and nodded, putting his hand on your thigh to try to ease the anxiety.
"Y/n, did you hear me?" Carmen smiled, watching the interaction between you and Max. George took a large gulp of his water as he sputtered, "Guys, these fries are way too seasoned-" he coughed again, Carmen smacking his back.
Max laughed quietly, sipping his water as you took a bite of your food and shook your head and smiled.
"Sorry, didn't mean to interrupt with my cough. Go on." George wiped his mouth and sipped some water.
"Sorry, Carm. I didn't hear what you said, what's up?"
"It's okay! I just asked what time you and Max were planning on leaving and going back to Perth."
"Oh, um.... Max? What time did you want to leave again?"
Max leaned back, "It's up to you. We need to get back to the dogs soon. Jimmy and Sassy want to go this time I think." You smiled at his response, "I guess we're leaving tonight."
Carmen smiled and nodded, George and Max now conversing about the next season. You were excited to go back home to the dogs and Daniel, knowing he probably wanted to see you too.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
"Do you think the dogs missed us? Because I missed them- hey! Don't set Jimmy down, I'll hold him." Max frowned as your eyes went wide. "Okay...um, yeah. I'm sure they missed us."
Immediately as the door opened, all five dogs came running towards the door, leaving you just enough time to shut the door so they couldn't run out. Chasing dogs was not fun.
Having the dogs, however, was the best. Scout was an eight-year-old Border Collie. He was your first dog, which you bought when you moved into your apartment seven years ago at the age of eighteen. Scout was one of the calmest dogs you would ever meet. He really was the biggest cuddle dog.
Then, there was Rocco. Rocco was rambunctious, to say the least. He's a chocolate lab that's six years old. Rocco, fun fact, actually met Roscoe, Lewis' dog. You brought Rocco when he was a puppy to the Australian Grand Prix when you got him. Lewis, coincidently, had Roscoe with him. It really was an adorable sight.
Marley was your sweet girl. She's a four-year-old cocker spaniel. She's a sweetheart, really. You loved the way her tail went about a hundred miles per hour when you came home, even if just for going for a run. Max would argue that Marley has attachment issues, but you just ignore that.
Then, there were the two goldens you adopted last year from the rescue: Mochi and Sushi. You may have named them when you were hungry...but who cares. They are both one, and Mochi, a girl. Sushi, a boy. They both kind of looked like Charles and Alexandras dog, Leo.
Maybe you had too many dogs in some people's eyes. But you had a big apartment, and living alone was a little depressing. Yeah, Max flew out to stay over a lot. If he wasn't racing, he was in Perth with you. And you usually came to the races with Daniel. Heidi was a busy woman, and you wanted Daniel to feel supported.
Not to mention how most of the girls loved your apartment. Carmen came to visit a lot, along with Kika and Lily. Alexandra just started coming over as well, usually with Charles, Joris, and Leo. Rebecca also started coming over as well. Let's just put it this way, everyone saw your apartment as a great hangout spot.
You had a lot of windows, all overlooking the beautiful beaches and buildings in Perth. Being smack in the middle of the big city made for gorgeous nights as well. The kitchen was huge and spacious. Your apartment was your safe haven, always making it comfortable to come home and relax.
When you started dating Max six months ago, you brought him to see your apartment. He knew you loved it from previous conversations you had with Daniel when Max was around about when you first moved in.
Max was basically there from the beginning. He knew you since you were both teens. From your first breakup, your failed exam grade in uni, and arguments with Daniel. Max loved hearing you talk; he knew that for sure.
Since the day he first met you, he knew he wanted to try to date you. Your smile drew him in, your laugh made his day, and your personality was addicting. He loved you from the second he saw you.
"Liefje, do you want to watch a movie?" Max asked, looking at you as you grabbed two waters from the fridge. "Yeah, sure. How about Stepbrothers?" You smiled, sitting down next to him on the sectional.
Max laughed, "Alright. Scout? Come here, bud." Scout jumped onto the couch beside you, Jimmy and Sassy on the blanket next to Max. It's like Scout knew that even when Max called him, he knew Max was calling him for you.
As the movie started, Mochi and Sushi went to lay down at the opposite end of the couch. They fell asleep on each other in a matter of seconds.
Marley and Rocco were walking around the house, occasionally entertaining each other by chasing each other around. As you and Max cuddled on the couch and watched your movie, Daniel planned to surprise you.
He knew you were home, you told him that you had landed back in Perth and that you'd be home for a while. And since it had felt like forever, he thought he would show up to your apartment with the key you gave him and cook you guys some dinner.
What he didn't know was that you were already busy, and he didn't expect it.
As he took the private elevator up to your floor, he checked his watch, it read 10:03pm. A little late, but the number of times you guys showed up at each other's home late into the night was plentiful.
Daniel walked up to your door, pausing as he thought he heard something. He thought about texting you but figured it might be the dog sitter. So he unlocked the door and stepped in, trying not to make too much noise to scare the dog sitter.
He found it weird that as he walked in, the dogs didn't come greet him, though. The dogs always ran to the door and jumped on him, happy to see him. He was confused.
What Daniel didn't expect to see when he walked into the living room was you and Max. You and Max cuddled up on the couch watching one of your favorite movies. Not to mention his cats. Neither of you even noticed Daniel.
"What's this?" Daniel spoke, earning a yelp from you and Max jumping off the couch, thinking there was an intruder.
"What the fuck, Daniel?! You can't just break in like that!" You yelled, throwing the blanket off of you to stand next to Max as he paused the movie.
"It isn't breaking in, Y/n. You gave me a key." He said, dangling the key between his fingers.
"Oh.." you bit your lip, Max exhaling as he ran his fingers through the top of his hair.
"You didn't answer my original question. What is this?" Daniel asked again, pointing between you and Max.
"Um.. Daniel, I really don't want you to freak out-"
Daniel cut you off, "What?" Max sighed, "Mate, it's not a big deal, okay? We've only been dating for six months, and she was going to tell you soon."
You sighed, watching Daniel take a deep breath and nod. "Okay, fine. You're happy then?" Daniel asked you.
"Mhmm, I really am, Dan."
Daniel nodded again, "Good. I guess it really only was a matter of time."
To this, you and Max shared a confused look and looked back at Daniel.
"What? You guys seriously think I haven't noticed the way Y/n leaves every race to go 'check out the other garages.' and how you guys talk after almost every race?"
"I mean, I didn't think you noticed..." You trailed off, Marley barking for pets from Daniel.
"Hi, Mars." Daniel cooed, petting Marley as he laughed. "I guess if you're going to date someone, I'm glad it's Max."
Max perked up, "Really?"
"Yeah, man. I trust you; I know you. I also know where you live if I need to come break your toes if you hurt her." Daniel raised his brows.
"I'm not going to hurt her you, nimrod. But thanks."
You smiled; glad Daniel didn't make a big deal. "Okay, um, I kind of want to finish my movie... want to stay, Dan?"
Daniel shook his head, "Nah, I'll go. We can get lunch tomorrow. I'll bring Heidi?" Daniel asked, walking towards the front door.
"Yeah, I'll text you. Thank you, Daniel." You gave him a hug as he ruffled your hair, "Yeah, whatever. Have fun-" You started to close the door as he spoke again, "Wait! Not too much fun!" The door was shut now.
Daniel smacked on the door, "Hey! Y/N? Max? Damnit." Daniel let his head fall on the door as someone on the same floor as you looked at Daniel strangely and sighed.
"I'm her brother- I just, yeah you don't care." Daniel sighed, leaving you and Max alone...something he still shudders at to this day.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
(reposts, comments, and likes are appreciated!^-^)
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fallingdownhell · 3 months
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If it's no bother the whole meeting family and sister being favoured ordeal but with Wanderer, Xiao, Childe and Tighnari please! Yummy comfort...🤤
Honestly.. I did my best with it, but I don't know if I'll do another addition to this from now on. It feels like I'm always writing the exact same thing, and I feel like it's getting boring and repetitive...
Let me know what you think about it, please, because I really don't know.
Characters Included: Wanderer; Xiao; Tighnari
Content: gender neutral reader; established relationship; reader has a sister; hurt/comfort; mention of past (child) abuse; mention of child neglect; insults; slight racism against Tighnari; not proofread yet
Word count: 3,7k words
Requested by: @ahtopoteyto
Enjoy everyone<3
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Wanderer
When you suddenly hit him with the question of wether he wanted to meet your parents or not, he was confused and slightly shocked. From what he had gathered over the time you've been dating, you did not have a very good connection with your parents.
You never really talked about them or told him stories about your childhood. The first few times he asked you about them, he vividly remembers how your face became pale and you simply stating that you didn't want to talk about this. So he let it be, not bothering you with it anymore.
So for you to suddenly ask him this after months of not even mentioning anything related to this subject, he found it highly suspicious.
"Where's this coming from so suddenly?", he asks, taking your hand and sitting you down on the couch next to him. He can already tell how much it cost you to simply ask him that question.
"W-well... I just thought that maybe it's something you'd want. I mean.. normally, in relationships, you introduce your parnters to your parents. So, I thought, maybe we should do that, too..?"
You sounded so meek and unsure of yourself, he hated to see you like this. He may not know the full story about what happened between you and your parents, but if it made you that uncomfortable just talking about them, then that's all he needed to know. He would never knowingly put you through something horrible.
So, to reassure you, he circled his arms around you, pulling you against his chest while placing his chin on top of your head as he just held you like this. "Don't force yourself to do something you don't want to do. Our relationship isn't exactly normal anyways. I don't care about meeting your parents. You don't like them, that's enough for me to also dislike them."
That made you laugh a bit, and he also relaxed a bit, knowing that if that could make you laugh, you were already feeling a bit better.
"Even so.. I think you should know why I don't have contact with them anymore..", you quietly spoke after some time.
"Only if you want to tell me. You don't have to force yourself.", was his answer, but you insisted, finally wanting him to know, since you've already kept it to yourself for so long.
And so, you told him about all the things you went through when you were younger, still living with and depending on your parents. You told him how you were the oldest child of your parents, and for a while, everything was good. There were normal, loving and even spoiled you a bit as a child.
But when you were 6 years old, your parents decided to have a second child, and so, your sister was born when you were 7. And suddenly, it was like you didn't exist anymore.
Your parents focused all their love and attention towards your baby sister, leaving you to figure things out by yourself. They at least still provided food for you, but anything else you were left to your own devices.
By the time you were 12 years old, you were practically living by yourself, though you were still in your parents house. You were cooking your own meals, doing your own laundry, managing school stuff and all that your parents were supposed to do for you.
Your sister was only 5 years old, she was just a happy child and didn't know about the clear favouritism and neglect going on. She was just a sweet child that wanted to play with her sister. You couldn't hate her, since she didn't do anything wrong.
From time to time, you tried to get your parents attention, either with your grades or other achievements, but they always brushed you aside to focus on your sister, since they claimed she needed their attention more than you did.
It hurt, and you kept on trying and trying, until eventually, you realised that it had no sense and you just stopped. You knew that they would never love you like they did with your sister. So, as soon as you could, you started a part time job to save up some money, so you could leave when you needed to.
The older you and your sister got, the more she also became aware of the favouritism. Luckily, it didn't grow over her head, and she tried her best to get your mom and dad to focus on you, too. But they never did. Instead, your sister spent time with you, which you were really greatful for.
When the time came, you were old enough and had enough money saved, you left your home. You told no one, except for your sister. She was sad to see you leave, but she understood why you did it, and wished you the best of luck. Even to this day, you hold some sort of loose contact to her.
Your parents however? You haven't heard a word from them since you've left. You weren't even sure if they've noticed your dissapearance, if they even remembered that they had an older child. But you were glad, you didn't want anything to do with them in the first place.
While listening to your story, Wanderer felt himself get more and more angry on your behalf. How dare they treat their own child in such a way? What kind of a parent would do such a thing?
He was gritting his teeth, clenching his fists. He wanted so bad to make them pay for what they did to you. But then he focused back on you, still in his arms, sobbing as you were telling him your story. No matter how much you reassured him that you were fine, it was still affecting you.
So instead, he focused and channeled his anger into the love and worry he had for you. He tightend his hold around you, planting a soft kiss to the top of your head. "I'm sorry you had to live through something like that. But that's all in the past. You're here now, with me. You've achieved so much for yourself and by yourself, so you can be proud of you. And I'll be by your side for each and every step in the future. I won't let something like this ever happen to you again. And if you ever want me to pay your parents a little visit... let me know."
That last statement brought him a small hit to his side, but he merely laughed it off.
You'd always be his number one. Forever and always..
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Xiao
Having an Adeptus as your boyfriend, the Guardian of Liyue himself at that, you tried to spend as much time with him as you possibly could. For you, that meant spending ever second of your free time in or around Wangshu Inn, sometimes even spending the night there despite having your own living place.
Xiao appreciated this gesture of yours. You knew that he liked the Inn as his place of operation, and you didn't want to force him into spending time at your place, when he would only be anxious the entire time. So it was a compromise you were willing to make.
Today was a nice summer day. You were dressed in soft clothing, allowing the occaisonal gust of wind to cool your skin down as you were standing on the top balcony of the Wangshu Inn, observing the scenery before you. Xiao was currently out somewhere, so you had decided to wait for him here.
While you were observing, leaning your body against the railing, you suddenly felt the presence of someone behind you. Before you could turn around, a pair of arms came around from behind you, encircling your body as his hands found purchase on the railing, next to yours.
You immediately recognized him, a smile spreading as you felt his body leaning against yours, his soft lips pressing against your exposed shoulder.
"You should be more careful. I wouldn't want you to lean to far over and falling to your death.", he mumbled, staying close to you, searching for the physical contact.
You loved how openly he showed his love and affection to you when it was just the two of you, no one else around to witness this soft moment of his. "I'm sure you'd catch me before anything could happen to me.", you reply, intertwining your hand with his.
"And you'd be absolutely right."
You smile but don't say anything more as you stay with him like this, enjoying the way his body feels against yours. If only this moment could last forever...
But alas, it didn't last nearly as long as you'd want it to. Soon enough, you could hear some shouting from below, coming from the reception. You heard the Boss Lady, Verr, call after someone. "Sir, please! You can't just barge up there!"
But whoever that man was, he just ignored her as both you and Xiao could hear the heavy footsteps coming up the stairs. With one last look at each other, you break apart to an appropriate distance, figuring that whoever this was was probably here to seek the help of the Adeptus.
However, as the man arrived at the top balcony, your breath got caught in your throat as you recognized the man standing in front of you.
His eyes found yours, and you saw a glimpse of something wash over his face that you couldn't quite name. Xiao also noticed this, choosing to remain silent for now, but closely watching both of you. He may not know who this man was, but it was obvious to him that you recognized him.
"Dad?", you then asked, still hoping that this was just some bad dream you'd wake up from any second now.
"(Name)! I finally found you! You weren't at home, so I've been searching everywhere for you."
The man, your father, made a step towards you, but as soon as he did, you also took a step back. The motion didn't go unnoticed by Xiao. You were clearly uncomfortable with your father being here, so he was preparing to step in the second things threatened to go out of control.
"What do you want?", you ask him, not wanting to spend any more time in this mans presence than you absolutely have to.
"What, a father can't visit his child?", he asked, letting out a chuckle, but everyone present could tell how fake it sounded.
"Just tell me what you want already."
Your father threw you a glare, but relented nonetheless. "Fine then. Your mother and I were hoping for a bit of financial aid from you. Your sister wants to study at the Academiya of Sumeru, but we lack the money to help her with that. We heard that you were doing pretty good for yourself, so, naturally, you'd help out your family a bit. Right?"
The last word sounded almost threatening, like refusing would cause you serious consequences. You knew that tone in your fathers voice all too well, having been "disciplined" by him most of your life if you ever dared refuse him.
This entire situation was almost laughable to you. You haven't had contact with either your parents or your sister in years, since you finally left their home for good. And now, after years of silence, they suddenly remember you, only to come crawling and begging for money. Which they plan to spend on your sister.
As it always was. It's always been her over you.
"..No.", you say after a few seconds of silence. Hearing your answer, your fathers forced smile drops and he stares at you, like he couldn't believe the word that just left your mouth.
"What did you say?", he asked, his voice ice cold and you flinched a bit, hiding a bit behind Xiao as you were still scared of this man, but you refused to subject yourself to him again.
"I said No. I'm not giving you any money."
Your response was hanging in the air for a bit, when suddenly, anger started to show on your fathers face and he then began lunging towards you, one arm raised as if to slap you.
"You ungrateful, little-!", he yelled and was about to take a swing at you, when suddenly, within the blink of an eye, he was laying on the floor, face pushed onto the ground, with Xiao standing over him, restraining your fathers hands.
"You will not put your hands on them. I won't allow it."
Your father was cursing and screaming, trying to escape the hold Xiao had him in. But the more he struggled, the more force Xiao put into holding him down, which only worsened the curses thrown at the both of you.
Witnessing this, the reality of what would have happened to you if Xiao wasn't there with you sank in, and you felt your knees giving out, sinking to the floor as tears subconsciously began to run down your cheeks.
Noticing this, Xiao quickly reassed the situation as he leaned down to your father. "Leave. And don't you dare ever come back. If I see or hear you bothering them ever again, I won't be so mercyful next time."
Then, he let go of your father and rushed to your side, checking in on you. Your father cursed some more as he finally got to his feet again and quickly left the scene, and hopefully, your life as well.
You on the other hand, were a mess right now. Tears running down, you were sobbing as you held onto Xiao like your life depended on him. He let it happen, soothingly running a hand along your back as he just held you, letting you cry it all out.
After you've calmed down again, he just has to talk about what just happened. "I take it this happened more than once to you?", he asked softly, referencing the moment your father tried to lay hands on you.
You couldn't say the words, so you just nodded as a response. Xiao felt anger rising in his chest, but he held it under control focusing on you, since you needed him right now.
"What else has he done to you?"
And so, with shaky breath and lots of pauses in between, you tell him about all the abuse and the clear favouritism of your sister you've been going through your entire childhood, up until the day you ran away from them for good.
Xiao was in shock that parents could do such a thing to their own child. And even if he wanted to go out and make them pay for their actions, there's nothing he could do. He was bound by a contract to protect the people of Liyue. He couldn't harm them. But he could protect you..
So, he takes you in his arms again, holding you close to him as he softly speaks into your ear. "I'm so sorry for everything that happened to you. From now on, you won't have to worry about them any longer. I'll protect you. From them and any other harm that tries to make their way to you."
And you knew that he meant every word he said. You knew that you could trust Xiao with everything, most importantly your life, and he'd guard it as his most treasured possession. With him by your side, you finally felt safe for the first time in your life...
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Tighnari
Working as a Forest Ranger has always been a lifelong dream of yours. Doing so with the love of your life by your side was that dream actually coming true to you. Sometimes, you just stare at Tighnari, wondering what you did to get so lucky to have him as your partner. How you deserved him in the first place.
He always laughed a bit and softly reprimanded you, but he never did so with ill intent. When he did that, you could always see the genuine love he held for you in his eyes, clear as day.
When it came to your relationship, everything happened a bit slowly, as per Tighnari's request. Since his species only has one partner their entire life, he wants to make extra sure that this will work out.
You take your time with going on several dates, where he explains to you the basics of his kind, what to do and what not to do, with him and others of his kind. But nothing he told you ever scared you away from him. If anything, it made you fall for him even more.
Then came the day when he wanted you to meet his parents, before you were making things official with him. You were nervous to meet them, but luckily, his parents instantly took a liking to you, especially his mom. She was over the top with her sons choice in a partner and the both of them gave you two their blessings.
The day after, you finally made things official, telling everyone of your friends that you were dating, and everyone was congratulating you. Word also spread among the other Forest Rangers, and soon enough, you were also bombarded with congratulations from them, as well.
Life was going good, but there was one thing that Tighnari was still thinking about.
You've met his parents, but he's never once met yours. Matter of fact, you don't even talk about them all that much. He's asked you one or two questions about them, but he soon came to the conclusion that this wasn't a topic you were too fond to speak about.
He did ask you why that was, but when you only gave him vage answers and excuses, he dropped the topic, figuring that it wasn't too important anyways. The main issue was your relationship, not some outside opinion. He thought that you'd come around and tell him more once you felt ready to do so.
Unbeknownst to him, that day would arrive much sooner than he anticipated.
One day, as Tighnari was about to head out for one of his patrols, he noticed you standing at the entrance to Gandharva Ville that led to Sumeru City, talking to two figures he didn't recognize. He thought for a second before he decided to head over to see what was going on.
As he got closer, he began to pick up on some signs of distress coming from you, which already set him a bit off edge. Then, he picked up on the voices and realised that you were arguing with those two individuals. He didn't know what it was about, but that wasn't important.
".. you understand, (Name)? We only want the best for you, so-!"
"Excuse me. Is everything alright over here?", Tighnari interrupted the conversation, and as you turned around to him, he couldn't help but notice the relieved look on your face. He gave you a sympathetic look before turning back to the other two visitors, who looked upset at being interrupted so rudely.
"And who are you?", asked the man, while the woman nodded along with him. Before Tighnari could say anything, you were already at it.
"This is Tighnari, Leader of the Forest Rangers, and my boyfriend. Tighnari, those are my parents.", you said as you vaguely gestured with your hand between them.
Tighnari's eyes widened as he heard you introduce them. He cleared his throat before extending a hand to your parents. "It's nice to finally meet you."
However, instead of taking his hand, your father simply ignored him, while your mother looked at him for a second, before scoffing and focusing back on you. "Seriously, (Name)? You got involved with someone like him? You could do so much better for yourself.", your mother said, looking at Tighnari with disgust, specifically at his more animalistic features.
"..Excuse me?", Tighnari asked again, retracting his hand. He couldn't believe what he had just heard. When he looked back to you, he saw you gritting your teeth, yet when you spoke again, he heard the strain in your voice as you tried to remain polite with your parents.
"Like I already said, I'm happy with my life here. I'm happy with Tighnari. Nothing you do or say can change my mind about it."
"Quit being stupid already, (Name)! Now that your sister isn't taking over the family business anymore, we need you to come back and take over. We also found a suitable marriage candidate for you. If you would just-!"
"I said No!", you interrupted them again, this time however, all the politeness has left your tone.
"I know you only never bothered me about coming back till now, because you were betting on my sister to take over. You'd never force her to do the things you want her to do, but doing it to me is fine for you?
I'm done with that. I have my life here, doing what I always wanted to do, with the love of my life with me." To undermine your words, you stand next to Tighnari and take his hand in yours. The action fills him with pride, as well as the fact that you're standing up for him to your parents.
"So, you can either accept that fact, support me and still be a part of my life. Or, you can leave, and never bother any of us again."
You finish your little speech, your mother gasping at your words, but your father quickly takes her and ushers her away, leading them back to the city.
As the two walked away, you let out a deep breath, relief washing over you as they walked away. You were still holding onto Tighnari's hand when he spoke up again. "I take it that was why you didn't want me to meet them, am I right?"
"I'm so sorry about that. I know I should have told you, but I never wanted you to have to go through that. I already don't have a very good relationship with them, and I didn't want it to affect you, as well."
Hearing that, Tighnari smiled as he turned towards you to take you in his arms. "Thank you", he whispered into yours ear.
You nodded against him. You'd always stand up to your parents again, without another thought, if it meant you were doing it for him...
585 notes · View notes
darqx · 1 month
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Snakes on a post
Another particularly long answer dump since i, once again, have a backlog of things to potentially answer |D
❗️For commonly asked qs please see my BTD FAQ
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Got jumpscared with my own old art for a hot minute there LAUGHS.
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(For those wondering, the naga doodle from here was attached to the ask)
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That is every other Royal that exists in the Nether and also at least some of the demons that challenged him for his Royal title lol.
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Believe me, no one was or is more surprised then me XD;
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So, the thing about where Rire's ichor manifests is that it kinda exists and doesn't exist at the same time. Meaning that his upper back is where the manifestation point is anchored, BUT it can still manifest with a bit of space in between it and his back hence why it will manifest over his clothes and not through them.
So if you touch where the manifestation point is sans the ichor, than you are just straight up touching his back. With the ichor, he still gets sensory input from the tentacles to his back but it's a lot more soft and muted esp the further away it gets from him. As you've seen implied though, he would feel a very sharp pain if a great deal of damage was done to the ichor where it clusters at the manifestation point, since he'd DEF be feeling that straight in his back lol.
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He is definitely a top and the only way he would bottom for anybody is if they somehow forced him to.
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Ah i knew i'd answered this a long time ago [finally found it]! Holy crosses (those that have been blessed) can also burn him but they would need to be in contact with him the entire time. Being a Royal he also has more of a tolerance to these than normal demons.
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Well, unless said person actually has the undeniable ability to make good on their words, Rire would just stand there rather genially with that little smile he sometimes has and let them finish.
And then he might use them as reverse suggestions for dealing with said person (why would you give him any ideas!!?)
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both
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In BTD canon it is quite possible that they actually haven't in person. But we are using creative license here haha.
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Rire heals a lot faster than a human. Cain is not my character so I don't know how his stacks up.
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I've grouped these asks cos they kind of have similar answers - 360° (jk sorry sorry to the second q that is just a very common spelling mistake and I couldn't resist XD; )
Now, even though we mashed all the characs together in BTD, they all actually come from different storylines and so their canons outside the "BTD canon" may differ. This tends to bleed in. With this in mind:
The rules of Rire's canon (eg the concept of Battle Royales and how to become a Royal) don't apply to Cain. Anyway, they don't live in the same place either.
Cain is canonically the oldest and most OP character in BTD lol so yes he is stronger than Rire - you might've noticed, but Rire is never in the same drawing as Cain voluntarily. I play with this along with the "natural weakness" aspect - which I've also referred to as scissors-paper-rock rules XD Basically; demons beat humans, angels beat demons (purely because demons have weakness against holiness).
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It would (be insane) but I hope you are not looking at me to fulfil this :d
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Not really
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His coronation day is a public holiday in his sector so yes XD
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Aww thank you very much for your interest! ≧(´▽`)≦ It's really cool that some of you guys want to actually fund such a thing - I'd have thought you'd have enough of him killing you in BTD1 XD Unfortunately, I have no plans for a Rire game at the moment as I'm working on a webcomic which looks like it will take up all my free time (that being said, he will be in the webcomic at some point).
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Nope! Although i can kinda see why you might think that lol.
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Whatever that one is where he doesn't particularly care what someone else identifies as. It really makes no difference to him or how he will act.
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There are viruses in the Nether that if contracted could potentially kill you, yes. Part of being a Royal is becoming a lot more robust than normal Demons though. As for if/when Rire dies, I dunno maybe either in a Battle Royale somewhere thousands of years down the line or by old age (which is rare for a Royal but not impossible if you play your cards right).
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If you are asking if he has a heat/rut of some sort, he does not |D
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490 notes · View notes
wttcsms · 2 months
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angels like you can't fly down here with me (i'm everything they say i would be), megumi fushiguro ;
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pairing megumi fushiguro x f!reader word count 11k  synopsis people like him don't get happy endings but megumi fushiguro (foolishly) considers himself to be the exception — after all, he has you. content contains yakuza au, childhood friends to lovers, mutual pining, breeding kink, slight daddy kink, attempted sa, minor violence & depictions of blood author's note if ur on my ao3, you know this is from 2021!!! my writing has changed up since then, but i'm going to be releasing a revised version of this which will be rewritten and feature more scenes, more worldbuilding, more plot, relationship and character development, etc!! i figured releasing this on tumblr would help me gauge how worthwhile revision of this fic will be, so lmk if u like this au & want to see it become even better <3
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Don’t do it.
He repeats the command inside his head again, and then one more time for good measure. (And then another time, just to drive the point across.)
He won’t — can’t; isn’t really allowed to — get into (another!) fight.
(Well, there’s a part of Megumi that knows that despite Gojo’s sing-songy warning of “now, now, Megumi, I don’t need a frequent visitor’s card for the principal’s office”, he doesn’t actually care. All he’s really concerned about — if the mild interest the reckless teenager turned legal guardian shows can even be called that — is whether or not Megumi wins.
And he does.
Every. Single. Time.)
For the most part, Megumi Fushiguro is fairly stoic in general, but to a concerning degree when one accounts for the fact that he’s only ten years old. For the odd three or so years he’s been under Gojo’s wing, Megumi’s mask of disinterest stopped becoming a mask and started becoming a part of him.
(Try as he might, Gojo’s not nearly as funny as he thinks he is. Maybe the connection between them might have been stronger if Gojo was a bit more responsible and if he was actually present, but he’s got his own shit to deal with. Besides, Gojo’s under the impression that what he’s doing isn’t cruel, but rather a means to an end. Megumi’s never going to be able to get stronger if he doesn’t learn how to survive on his own.
After all, being alone and having to fight to survive is the life people like them live.)
The older preteens in the area have a bad habit of picking on the younger students. Because the elementary and middle schools are so close together, the younger students who have the misfortune of walking alone tend to be targets for bullies in need of pocket change or a good laugh. Most of the time, they get both.
As of late, everyone’s favorite target happens to be Megumi Fushiguro, the boy with the messy black hair and indifferent attitude, even when confronted by boys two years his senior and almost a whole entire head taller than him.
Last week, Megumi gave the three older boys dumb enough to harass him for money bloody noses, bruised egos, and a thirst for revenge. That was the first (and supposed to be the last) time he got into a fight (for this school year, at least — something Gojo had told him, while winking). So, even when the trio is back together again, taunting him and trying to get him to take the first swing, Megumi keeps walking forward with his perpetual look of disinterest, those cold blue eyes of his staring straight at the path ahead of him, never paying any mind to the gangly bodies of the middle school boys who keep trying to block him from moving.
Don’t do it.
He tells himself this once more. You don’t want to have to inconvenience Gojo. Then, you’ll be stuck listening to him pretend to lecture you. You don’t like spending too much time with Gojo. He’ll make weird jokes. 
The thought of having to deal with Gojo’s presence is enough to get Megumi to unclench his fists.
“Move.”
It’s the first thing he says to the group since they started following him after school. He tells the boy with the brown hair this. The brunet seems to be their ringleader of sorts, and even as nothing more than a ten year old child, Megumi knows that being twelve/thirteen and harassing little kids for sport is a sign of patheticness that will only grow and fester into something darker unless someone beats some sense into them. Obviously, they didn’t learn their lesson from last week.
“Huh? What the hell did ya just say, ya little brat?” The brown haired boy sneers, looking down at Megumi.
School has just let out, so there are dozens of kids of all ages walking down the sidewalk. They’re all aware of the situation happening, but everyone chooses to turn a blind eye to it. Partly because this is such a common occurrence that it just starts to become something that blends into the scenery, but also because there are some rumors surrounding the Fushiguro kid that’s enough to make anyone with a heart of gold reluctant to come to his rescue.
The main rumor circulating around the school is that Megumi Fushiguro has ties to the yakuza. Granted, most kids his age have no idea what the yakuza is, and even those who somewhat know only know through exaggerated definitions from their older siblings. Generally, everyone just accepts the fact that the yakuza is bad, and by default, Megumi Fushiguro must be bad too. Older siblings tell their younger siblings to avoid “that boy” at all costs, unless they want to end up with a finger cut off. Megumi’s classmates huddle together and conveniently choose to look everywhere else but at him when on the playground.
For anyone else, this might have been enough to cause some hurt feelings. Everyone thinks the boy must be some type of stupid to be so oblivious to the rumors centered around him, but the truth is this: Megumi is well aware of what people whisper about behind his back; he just doesn’t care enough to prove them wrong.
And they’re not wrong, anyway.
(For some parts of the rumors, at least.)
Because it’s true — Megumi does have ties to the yakuza. His father, who he can’t seem to attach neither a name nor a face to, must have done something bad. Something bad enough to have him cross paths with Satoru Gojo, the young head of the Gojo Clan, one of Tokyo’s most prominent crime families. It’s the same Gojo who decided to adopt both Megumi and his stepsister, Tsumiki, despite having nothing (so far) to gain from it. After all, why would a teenager willingly assign himself the responsibilities of caring for small children — one who resembles the man that tried to kill him and the other being an ill little girl confined to a hospital bed for who knows how long. All Gojo gets from this deal is a headache, bills, and more problems than necessary.
Megumi’s not really sure how the rumors started in the first place. He thinks it’s because kids his age are easily influenced and have a tendency to run wild with their imaginations. With the rising popularity of gangs from the high school students, this interest seems to have trickled all the way down to the elementary levels. Megumi certainly fits the description of their idea of someone from the yakuza: silent, secretive, scary.
(If they were a little bit older, maybe they would have just seen him as an introvert.)
No matter how ridiculous the rumors get, though, it doesn’t change the fact that the root of them is true: he is connected to the yakuza. After all, he’s being primed and prepped to be someone of value in the clan. Once you’re tied with the likes of them, you might as well just resign to the knot fate’s trapped you with. He’s learned quickly that the only thing harder than getting into the yakuza is getting out.
And because his sister’s and his life both depend on him doing as he’s told, getting out is a funny pipe dream at best and the Fushiguro siblings’ cause of death at worst.
“I told you to move. You’re blocking my way.” Megumi’s tone of voice betrays nothing. Annoyance, maybe, but he speaks flatly regardless of how he’s truly feeling. Gojo says it’s kinda creepy. Gojo also says that being a little creepy isn’t bad.
(Gojo should know; he’s a certified creep in Megumi’s eyes.)
“Oh — so the little boy can speak up.” The boy with blond hair laughs. It’s a nasally sound that grates Megumi’s ears.
He’s not an idiot. Megumi is well aware of the fact that no matter how much he feels like it isn’t true, he’s still just a little ten year old boy. He should be playing with the toy cars Gojo bought him, not worrying about the gritty future that lies ahead. But still, the phrase rubs him the wrong way.
Little boy.
He wasn’t so little when he kicked them down to his height before properly bashing their faces, now was he? Even now, he can feel the anger coming up. He clenches his fists, wondering if he’ll get suspended for fighting right next to school property.
“Leave him alone.”
Another voice appears, but not from any of the boys. No — this time, it’s coming from a little girl on the sidewalk across from theirs. Everyone involved turns to stare at the source of such a command and are greeted with the sight of you with a Hello Kitty backpack. You’ve got a frown on your face that doesn’t match the brightness of your pink outfit.
Megumi recognizes you instantly. You’re in the same class as him. You were in the same class as him last year, too. He tilts his head, trying to figure out what exactly it is you’re trying to accomplish here — and why.
He knows his social standing in the school. If he’s at the bottom, you’re right at the top. A beaming pillar of light, everyone flocks to you like moths after a flame. But you’re alone today, not surrounded by the usual crowd of boys and girls who are often vying for your attention. Seeing you alone enables him to see you more clearly, without all the distractions getting in his way.
You’re small. Shorter than him, and way shorter than the middle school boys. You’ve got a bow in your hair and brand new shoes on your feet. If anybody should be socially aware, it has to be you. Those at the top, Megumi knows, like to remind everyone of their placement. You shouldn’t be here. You should be ignoring him like he’s got the plague, just like everyone else.
All three of the boys start to laugh after sizing you up. The laughter only serves to make you even more irritated, but you can’t speak because one of them is already talking through his laughs.
“Don’t tell me. Is this your girlfriend?”
The group erupts into more laughter, and while Megumi’s expression remains the same as it’s been for the past few minutes, yours only shows your growing contempt.
“She’s no one.” Megumi throws you an odd look, one of neither annoyance nor gratitude for trying to help him out. He uses your presence as a distraction, and he manages to take a few more steps before one of the boys is yanking him back by his bookbag.
“Grab her.” One of the boys says, and the third boy, the one with the messy red hair, starts to cross the street.
Megumi watches as you stay right where you are. Are you stupid? Why won’t you run? The boy still has a solid grip on his bookbag, keeping him in place. He wonders if it’ll be a waste of his breath if he tells you to start running — you probably wouldn’t listen to him anyway.
But then Megumi figures out why you don’t look too frightened, because not even a second before the older boy manages to cross the street to your side of the sidewalk, a man in a suit is running towards you, a scowl on his face.
“You said you were going to the restroom, young lady!” The man scolds you while panting for breath. He surveys the scene, looking at you, and then the middle school boy by your side before turning his head and seeing Megumi in between the other two boys. “What’s going on? Is everything alright? Did they do anything to you?”
“No, Mr. Higashi. B-but—“ Your bottom lip starts to tremble, and even though Higashi is certain that the tears about to fall are fake, the situation itself looks serious enough to the point where he doesn’t call you out on it. “Th-these boys are being really mean.” You let out a high pitched wail that makes the boy let go of Megumi’s bookbag. “They just threatened to attack me and my friend out of nowhere.”
“Your father will be informed.” Higashi frowns, eyeing the guilty boys who look confused and a little shocked at this turn of events. “Mr. [Surname] certainly won’t be pleased to hear about this.”
The middle school boys pale when they hear the man name drop your family’s surname.
After all, it’s the same last name that’s engraved on plaques all over the school, thanking your family for the many donations they’ve received.
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You enter into Megumi’s life that way: unexpectedly. He never thanked you for intervening, but it’s not like you did it for the thanks anyway. You did it, you tell him, because you figured he needed some help.
“I had it handled.” He tells you flatly. “Why are you even sitting here? Your friends keep staring at us.”
It’s true. Stories of what happened are already circulating around both schools, and while all your friends spent the whole entire day pestering you for the full story, you chose to keep quiet about the situation. And now, here you are, choosing to sit and eat lunch with Megumi, someone who also knows the true story of what went down but the only one people aren't brave enough to ask.
Your whole entire table of friends keep their heads huddled together as they go back and forth with each other, every one of them sparing glances at Megumi’s table. It makes the rice in his mouth taste stale. He should have just stayed in the classroom to eat, especially if he knew you would be bothering him.
“Gee, is that any way to treat a friend?” You huff, not at all actually annoyed with him.
“We’re not friends.”
“Too late. I told my dad we were.”
There has been one question on his mind ever since that incident. Just who exactly is your father? He’s not stupid; he knows that you must come from a wealthy family. If the buildings and auditorium named after your family isn’t enough proof, the fact that you always have the latest toys, the nicest shoes, the cutest stationery sets — that’s material proof of a spoiled princess.
You continue speaking, and as if you can read his mind, you’re already answering his question. “My daddy’s called a CEO. But the man you saw is Mr. Higashi. He takes care of me when dad’s away at work, and everything I do gets typed up in a report that dad sees every day. He wasn’t happy about what happened, so he says the boys will get in trouble. He told us not to worry, though.” You have a pleased smile on your face, waiting for Megumi to say something in reply.
“Okay.” He says, after a while. He only spoke because it seemed like you were waiting for him to. “It doesn’t mean we’re friends.”
“What’s so wrong about being friends with me?” You tilt your head. Everyone wants to be friends with you. And that’s before they even figure out that you live in a real life mansion with actual servants, and that sometimes you’re allowed to eat dessert for dinner. Even without the wealth, you still draw people in, whether it be with your bright smile or cheery attitude.
“Don’t you already have enough friends?” He can’t figure out what you could possibly want with him. Even though Gojo’s got the backing of the clan and enough funds to run the Tokyo underground with cash to spare, it’s not like Megumi is in a position to take advantage of it. Gojo hands him a thick wad of cash every week with a tip to “spend wisely, hehehehe”, and Megumi takes the tip to heart. A majority of the money sits saved in his bedroom, underneath a floorboard he spent a week trying to figure out how to loosen without anyone catching on. (Which was actually easy whenever he realized that nobody seems to really watch him to begin with.) So, he doesn’t look like he has money, and isn’t that what all rich kids want? To surround themselves with equally rich kids?
“I guess.” Your bubbly mood seems to dampen a bit at the mention of the other kids. They like you, sure. But they like each other a lot more. The gap between you and the other kids isn’t noticeable at first, but the novelty of having an endless supply of company has lost its luster. Meanwhile, the glamor of your life only keeps the hoards of “friends” to grow as the days go by. It’s always “let’s have a sleepover at [Names]’s!” or “[Name], we have to go to your house because you have the best toys!”. You wonder if they like you, or the shiny things that they get when they’re with you. “But, it’s not like youhave any friends.”
“I don’t need any.” The response is quick — instinctual. Gojo, even if not the greatest guardian by any parental standards, still presses Megumi to have a proper (or, as proper as it can be) childhood.
(“You know, I don’t care if you bring any friends over. Just make sure no one ends up accidentally getting shot, okay, Megumi?”
Yeah, because that’s definitely gonna push him towards throwing as many parties as he wants.)
People in his position don’t have many friends. It’s hard to, he assumes, because of all the killings and betrayals and power plays.
(And, he’ll soon learn that it hurts a lot less to lose an enemy than it does a friend.)
“Hmm. Okay.”
But you don’t get up from your seat, and he doesn’t tell you to move.
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The next day, you’re carrying two bento boxes. The lunches are prepared for you by world class chefs and everything is done in a rather cutesy manner to entice you into not wasting your food. The fruit is cut into pretty shapes, the food has picks with animals on them, and everything is colorful and to your own personal tastes.
You take a seat next to him once again. He looks up for a second, sees that it’s you, and returns back to his meal that looks pitiful in comparison. Leftover rice and some cold meat. You think it’s the same thing he had last time.
“For you.” You slide the second bento you had requested towards him before opening up your own.
“What’s this for?”
“For you to eat, silly.”
“...How much?”
“Huh? All of it, I guess? If you don’t like something, tell me, and I’ll request something different tomorrow.” You don’t quite understand what he’s asking you.
“No. How much does it cost? I'll bring you the money tomorrow.”
“Why would it cost you?” Now you’re really confused.
Didn’t anyone ever teach you that everything comes attached with a price? If it’s not money you want, it must be something else. At least, if Megumi’s judgments are right. (And they usually are.)
“Fushiguro, I brought you this because I want you to eat well and grow strong.”
He wonders what rice shaped like Hello Kitty has to do with his strength.
“Also, so the next time people give you or me trouble, you can fight them, okay?”
Oh. So it’s protection you want. He contemplates what he thinks your request is before popping a piece of food into his mouth. A meal made with care — he can taste the thought that’s been put into it. Shoving his old lunch to the side, he quickly starts eating at the one you brought him.
Okay. So maybe he does accept your offer.
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“Meguuuumi.” You whine out his name, messing up the navy sheets of his bed while he sits at his desk, trying to finish his application for university. “I’m bored.”
“Good. Go to your own house then, and leave me alone.”
“You’re so mean to me.” You sigh, turning your head so that half of your face is pressed against his pillow. The scent of his shampoo still sticks to the fabric, and you subconsciously inhale the scent some more. It’s familiar and reminds you of him, your favorite person in the world.
No one believes you when you tell them that Megumi is your best friend. No one wants to believe that it’s true. After all, the two of you look more like a shoujo manga trope than an actual pair of best friends. The cold, inexpressive dark haired male lead with a secretive past he doesn’t want anyone to know about and the bright, bubbly, ball of energy that is constantly clinging to his side. It’s like looking at night and day with you two.
“And yet, you’re still always here.”
You’re still by his side, even when the two of you reached middle school and high school together, and he spent a majority of his time starting (and finishing) fights.
(“Get off of him!” You screamed, yanking on the collar of one of the boys who happened to be trying to grab Megumi from behind. You don’t have the same amount of strength as them, but everyone at this point knows who you are and who exactly your father is. No matter what the origin of the fight is won’t matter; all that matters is that the precious daughter of one of Tokyo’s richest CEOs got caught in it, and that’s enough to get everyone involved into some deep shit.
Immediately, the boy scampers off, and the other boy Megumi was punching into the squeaky clean floors of the hallway begins to thrash around wildly, eyes wide at the sudden sight of you. Seeing you coming from behind Megumi is like watching the sun peek through a dozen storm clouds.
Megumi gives him one last punch, not nearly as satisfied as he thought he would be. Honestly, getting into fights with low level delinquents is beneath him. It’s not just his knuckles and clothes that are getting dirty; by feeding into the school’s image that he’s this young, violent yakuza heir, he’s dirtying the prestige Gojo claims is oh so important.
“Megumi.” He straightens up at the sound of your voice, which usually sounds so sweet, especially when it’s directed towards him. Instead, you have an uncharacteristic frown on your face and you sound… mad. “Let’s go.”
You’ve got a hand wrapped around his wrist, and people part when they spot the two of you making a hasty exit. The teachers aren’t bold enough to cause a scene with you, and the students know both you and Megumi are practically untouchable — one being the spoiled brat daughter of a rich and powerful businessman, the other, a ticking time bomb with ties to the yakuza.
You don’t stop walking until the two of you are in a secluded courtyard at the school. No one goes here, mainly because it’s in such an inconvenient location and there’s nothing but trees and weeds over growing it. The two of you found it within your first week of being here, and ever since then, it’s become your designated spot to avoid prying eyes.
“I thought you were over stupid fights. You told me yourself that they weren’t the type of people worth beating up.” You scold him, forcing him to take a seat on the bench that creaks under his weight. You make a noise as you inspect the drying blood on his knuckles.
If an outsider were to look at the scene before them, they would gape at the unbecoming sight of you on your knees, in between his legs, too close for a duo who claims to be “just good friends”. But there’s nothing inherently dirty in your thoughts. Instead, you’re staring thoughtfully at his hands, inspecting the minor damage done to them.
Megumi swallows hard as he looks down on you. He shouldn’t be feeling like this — you’re his best friend, his only friend. The only person who’s by his side. If you could read in his mind, there’s no doubt that you would be recoiling away from him in disgust…)
You’re still by his side, even when he told you the truth about himself after waiting years to see if you were truly his friend or not.
(“The rumors—” He starts to say, but you shush him, rolling over on your side to face him. The two of you are lying on the grass in your massive backyard, trying to spot a shooting star that’s supposed to be passing by at any second now.
“I don’t care about that.” You tell him. Middle school was a bitch to deal with, mainly because as everyone was in the process of growing up and “maturing”, so did the rumors they spread. Now, the two of you are halfway through your first week of high school. A new school, a couple of new classmates, and new rumors surrounding the odd pair.
“If I told you the rumors about me being someone you should avoid were true, would you be mad?” He’s lying on his back, still staring up at the night sky. He’s not turning to face you, almost as if he’s scared to look at you.
“Yes.” You answer without any hesitation. “At the person who’s spreading that around.” You clarify, poking him on his side to lighten the somber mood he’s setting. “You’re the only real friend I’ve had in forever, Megumi. I don’t think what anyone says about you would change that.”
“What if I did something bad?” Like kill a person. What then? What would you think of him if he told you the full truth: that Gojo told him that he can’t shield Megumi from the dirtier aspects of this type of life. That he’s spent hours after school, hours after hanging out with you and pretending to be a normal teenager, learning how to assemble, disassemble, and then reassemble a gun. That his target practice isn’t glass bottles lined up in a row or sheets printed out with human bodies. What happens if he told you that his target practice was low level scum from rival yakuza clans that Gojo couldn’t be bothered to kill himself?
“Mmm. How bad are we talking? Like, lied to me when you said my Christmas outfit looked good but half my ass was practically exposed bad or committing a felony bad?”
“What if I told you… that I really was a yakuza heir.”
The silence is palpable and especially soul crushing to Megumi as he waits for your reply.
“It wouldn’t matter to me, Megumi.” You say. You know that this isn’t just some type of hypothetical question he’s asking for fun. From his odd living situation to the intense nature of him in general to the fact that he knows practically everything about you, but you barely know the full extent of his childhood traumas despite growing up alongside him, you know deep in your heart that there has to be something going on with him. Something dark enough to harbor stories about him.
“Are you sure about that?”
You reach for his hand in the dark, finding it without really needing to look. He’s not one that’s prone to initiating physical contact, but you found out that he doesn’t really mind when you reach for him first.
“You can’t get rid of me, no matter how crazy or fucked up you think your life is.” You squeeze his hand, still staring at him.
You don’t notice the shooting star flying past the night sky, but Megumi is looking right at it. He knows what he’s wishing for.
For your words to be true.)
You’re still by his side, even when he brought you to his sister’s bedside. She’s sick, afflicted with something no one knows, not even the private doctors that Gojo’s spent millions on. She was still conscious, albeit confined to her bed when the two of you first met, but she’s been in a coma ever since the last year of middle school. You were by his side as he broke down about the news. It was the first time you’ve ever seen him cry.
So, no matter how much it may seem like he’s pushing you away, you don’t budge. For someone smaller than him and definitely weaker, you’re awfully resilient. And while people make the occasional joke, telling you to “blink twice if you need help”, you don’t pay any attention to them. If only they knew the truth: that you’ve got Megumi Fushiguro, heir to a massive yakuza clan, wrapped around your dainty finger.
He’s so whipped that he found himself asking Gojo for a rare favor.
(“College?” Gojo rubs the back of his neck, staring at Megumi. “I mean, I guess it’ll be good for you. Meet a wild party girl, take her to your dorm room, tame her—”
“An education is the whole point of attending, you know.” Megumi interrupts him before Gojo can jump into a story highlighting all of his sexual endeavors with college girls back in the day.
“Eh. I guess.” But then a grin lights up the feature of the man who [kind of/by definition] raised him. “But y’know what I know for a fact.” He wiggles his eyebrows, his glasses slipping down his nose as he tilts his head downwards. “You wanna follow [Name].”)
It doesn’t really matter if he’s not good enough to get into the university you’ve already received an early acceptance for. Because Gojo tries to make up for being an absent father figure, he fills in those empty spaces with cold, hard cash. All it takes is one nice donation, and Megumi’s wherever he wants to be.
Where he wants to be, he realizes, is to be by your side. Wherever you go, he’ll gladly follow. Funnily enough, despite the two vastly different backgrounds the both of you come from, you both have similar means of getting what you want.
Your father had already looked over the list of universities you had in mind, and all you could do was excitedly squeal and start rambling the moment the acceptance letters came in the mail. Despite the fact that your father’s physically absent from your life most of the time, he still tries to show he cares in the things he does for you. If paying off over half a dozen major universities in order to make you happy is something he has to do, he’ll do it without batting an eye.
It’s the same thing on Megumi’s end. Granted, Gojo’s means are more along the lines of using money as a lubricant and then death as an inevitable. Money talks, a gunshot to the head silences. Nobody can accuse anyone of taking bribes if said accused person is in a grave six feet under.
Sometimes, Megumi wonders how you’re just so oblivious to the fortunate circumstances in your life. You chalk up a lot of your father’s wishes as just “good luck”. In school, you’re placed on a pedestal, revered as some goddess-like, otherworldly being. People are practically tripping over themselves, running towards you for a crumb of your attention. Anyone sane would gladly wield this power and use it for all its worth. Not you, though. Not you, who’s kind and considerate and completely clean from the corruptness that plagues everyone else.
Megumi knows good and well that he’s not a hero — couldn’t be farther from it, if he’s being honest. He doesn’t feel a moral obligation to go out and rid the world of all evil. (It’d be hypocritical, he thinks, considering the fact that he’s most likely belonging under the evil category himself.) From a young age, he’s already known and come to terms with his fate. He’s going to train and learn from the best, and eventually, he will succeed as head of the clan. That is his purpose. That right there is the reason why he’s still alive today. That is why he can find himself sitting at his desk, submitting an application that’s already guaranteed to be followed up with an acceptance letter, ready to pretend for four more years that he’s normal.
“D’you think college will be fun?” You ask him, making yourself comfortable in his bed.
“No.”
You laugh at that. You like Megumi for a lot of reasons, and his honesty is one of them. Despite the fact that he likes to keep most of the darker details of his life to himself, you know that he would never lie to you. In a world full of people who are constantly lying, it gets tiring trying to figure out who’s real and who’s fake. It doesn’t help that you want to believe in everyone either. If you didn’t have Megumi loyally staying by your side all this time, you doubt you would have made it this far in your life without anyone taking advantage of you and your kindness.
“My dad said I can finally get a boyfriend when I go to college.” You say this fact so casually that Megumi almost — almost — gets fooled into believing that this is not a cause for concern. Almost.
“Oh.” He’s at a loss for words. He knows that it’s inevitable; that one day, you’ll find a guy you like and want to get closer to him. He knows that you’re not always going to be by his side, and he knows that it’s going to happen because he’ll have to push you away eventually. The older he gets, the deeper he’s burying himself into his grave. He doesn’t want you to get caught in the crossfire.
It’s not like boys have never tried approaching you before. People have spent years thinking that you and Megumi were a couple, and then after finding out from you that the two of you are nothing more than “best friends”, boys were still hesitant to talk to you. The glare Megumi would give them from behind your shoulder acted as a strong enough deterrent.
“I know. Now the only problem is finding a guy who’ll actually wanna date me.”
“They all will.” The words leave his mouth faster than he can even think about them. He’s not wrong, though. Every time the two of you are out in public together, he sees people shooting quick glances at you, at your ass, at your bright smile. The looks they give are predatory, dangerous, even. If it’s not your looks, it’s your shining personality that draws them all in. And if that’s not good enough, there’s always the enormous wealth attached to your last name. That’s the key to getting them to stay.
“You can be so sweet sometimes, you know that?” You giggle, glad that he’s still typing away on his laptop. If he were to look at you right now, he would see that you’re reacting way too positively to such a lackluster compliment. It’s not like he listed reasons on why anyone would ever want to date you, so he probably could just be complimenting you to make you happy.
(That’s just the excuse you’re going with. You know your best friend — that means you know that he would never say something he doesn’t truly think or believe.)
There’s a secret you’ve been keeping from him. A secret so big that you think you might’ve been keeping it from yourself, too. Something so big that your body simply can’t contain it any longer.
You like Megumi. 
Of course you do. You keep telling the whole world what great friends the two of you are. You talk to him about your dad all the time (which must mean he’s important, because you rarely get to speak to your dad, so you have to choose your topics of conversation wiseley). You trust him more than you trust yourself. Ever since middle school, you’ve been telling yourself that you liking Megumi isn’t anything to be ashamed or confused about. You like him because he’s your friend, and you’re supposed to like your friends.
And then you came to terms with the fact that you like Megumi beyond the borders of friendship.
It starts with you seeing him the way other girls must see him. You’re not blind, you know. It’s obvious that Megumi is far from ugly. If he wasn’t so intimidating, you’re sure he would have had his fair share of confessions, too. Megumi’s pretty, although calling him a pretty boy wouldn’t do his character justice. He’s got lashes people pay extensions for theirs to look like, and the prettiest dark blue eyes you’ve ever seen, and his hair, which he doesn’t put forth any type of effort in, always looks good whereas the same hairstyle would look messy on anyone else.
It’s not just his looks, though. Even if you look like the type of person who would judge others based on such shallow standards, you didn’t approach Megumi simply because he’s attractive. He’s… interesting. He’s got this reputation for being a delinquent, and maybe all the fights on his school record prove it, but he’s surprisingly respectful. He’s the type of guy who gets up from his seat to let an eldery woman have it. He loves animals. He’s honest and sweet despite his seemingly stoic nature, and he’s so oblivious to just how good he is.
Maybe it’s because he’s so blinded by the light that is you. You, with your cutesy bento boxes that used to be made by your team of personal chefs but are now made with your own manicured hands. You, with that bright smile of yours that he wants to always see because god — he thinks he would be willing to destroy the whole world if something were to ever make you so upset. You’re kind and beautiful and everything people write love songs about. You’re so good, and he’s nothing like you.
He’s nothing like you, because he highly doubts that you spend your time fantasizing about him like he does with you. It’s wrong, he thinks. And dirty, and disgusting, and vile. You’d hate him, he’s sure of it, if you knew what he thinks about late at night. That he sits on his bed with his cock pulled out from his shorts, leaking with precum as he strokes himself to the thought of you. Do you not see him as any other guy? Despite your lack of experience, surely you know just how dirty boys’ minds can be? You’ve got to be conscious of the fact that he’s any other guy, right? So, why — why — do you always roll around in his sheets, letting your sweet perfume stick to his sheets. Your tiny tops and skirts are always clinging tight to your body, and you never feel the need to readjust your clothing when it rides up. Do you not see him trying his hardest to look you in the eyes when the two of you are talking, despite the tantalizing sight of your skirt bunching up, exposing the smooth skin of your thighs?
Little does Megumi know (and if you have your way, he’ll never find out), you spend nights in your room, whining and trying to stuff your cunt with the same fingers that painstakingly made him his lunch. He’s your best friend since childhood. He looks at you like you’re an angel, and you don’t want to destroy that image by revealing just how dirty you really are. How every time he gets so close to you, you subconsciously bring your thighs together, trying to rub them together in a poor attempt to relieve some tension. He’d be disgusted with you, you’re sure of it. Maybe even betrayed.
Besides, it would never work out. Megumi doesn’t see you the way you see him. He might look at you with a soft look you’ve never seen him give anyone else, but that’s because you’re his only friend. It’s not like he’s harboring any hidden feelings for you, and just because you’re so convinced that there’s no one better than Megumi around, it doesn’t exactly mean that you won’t feel this way about anyone else.
Megumi’s got a rather monotone cadence with his voice, so you’re not too surprised by his seemingly unethusiatic response to you saying you’re now allowed to date. Still — there’s a slight pang of disappointment when you realize that he doesn’t sound jealous at the prospect of you dating someone else.
You decide right then and there that the healthiest thing to do now is to just bury your feelings for him deep inside your heart, to tightly pack in all those pesky feelings and store them away so you can make room to allow others to fill in his space.
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gumi <3: where are you? gumi <3: i’m feeling tired and i have an assignment due tomorrow. i’m going home. gumi <3: you know i wouldn’t leave without you. cmon [name]. let’s leave now
Megumi frowns at his phone. He can clearly see that all his messages are being delivered, not to mention that he’s already called you twice and has been sent to voicemail twice. He can be patient when he wants to be, but right now, he’s getting a little pissed.
You know that he doesn’t like parties, and you know that he doesn’t hang out with the same people you do. He also knows that you don’t even really like most of the people you surround yourself with, so whyyou suddenly decided to do a 180 and reestablish your throne as the head of the social pyramid, he doesn’t know.
Lately, things between the two of you have been a little… weird. Sometimes he catches you staring at him with a sad smile on your face; one that you immediately replace with your usual one when you realize he’s looking right at you. Despite him asking you if everything’s okay, you vehemently deny that there’s anything wrong, and you’re quick to change the subject.
He thinks he’s losing his best friend, his only friend. And maybe it only hurts because he’s grown used to your presence in his life. Maybe it hurts because you’re his friend. But he knows the truth. It hurts because he’s losing you.
Did he do something wrong? Did he accidentally somehow reveal the extent of his feelings for you? Did you suddenly decide that maybe associating with someone like him isn’t something you’re meant for? Do you…
Do you hate him now?
It doesn’t matter. Maybe it does, but not right now. Right now, he’s more focused on getting the hell out of this stuffy ass living room, filled to the brim with drunken young adults and people he couldn’t care less about. The only person that matters right now is you, and he’s on a mission to find your location.
He’s got this ominous feeling in his gut, like something bad is about to happen. He’s Megumi Fushiguro, for fuck’s sake, so bad things have a habit of following him wherever he goes. But still, he’s made a personal promise to himself that no matter how bad things get, you’ll never get caught in the crossfire. He’s willing to die to keep that vow.
If you don’t reply to him, you most likely have a good reason. He doesn’t want to be clingy, is pretty damn certain he doesn’t even have a right to be, but he’s still worried about you. He’s pushing past the wall of sweaty bodies, trying to catch a glimpse of your hair color, the waft of your perfume, the familiarity of your laugh, but he can’t catch a single crumb of you anywhere.
You’re nowhere in sight, and he’s immediately filled with dread.
He yanks a guy who’s coming from upstairs.
“Ow, man, what the fuc—”
“Is anyone else up there?” Most of the time, the parties are restricted to just the first floor, with the unspoken rule being that only the upstairs should be used for people trying to fuck or to use the bathroom (or, people trying to use the bathroom to fuck). You’re not anywhere downstairs, and if you were simply using the restroom, you would have been back down here by now.
“Shit, I don’t fucking know.” The guy squints at Megumi, as if trying to see if he knows him or not. With the way his expression pales, Megumi comes to the conclusion that the guy might not really know him, but he knows ofhim. Gojo says that with the right reputation, the two concepts are practically synonymous. “But I heard a guy ‘n a girl, I think, walk past the bathroom. I don’t know who, though!”
Megumi lets go of the boy’s shirt, and he’s quick to run off before Megumi can give him any more wrinkles in his shirt — or do something much worse.
He’s thinking. Odds are, it’s probably not even you. With so many people roaming around this house, it’s likely that he just missed your presence. Your phone could have died, so that explains why he can’t reach you.
He finds himself heading up the stairs anyway.
It’s fine. He tells himself. You’re fine. You’re okay. Nobody would dare to touch a single hair on your head unless they want to suffer directly at the hands of Megumi. People around campus call him your guard dog, and it’s not necessarily a nickname he hates.
The atmosphere upstairs is vastly different from the one downstairs. There are no lights turned on, and all the doors to the rooms are closed. He hears a flush coming from one end, and out walks a tipsy girl who’s staggering a bit. There are only so many doors to choose from, and he doesn’t really want to accidentally walk in on two people trying to have sex, but the need to confirm your safety outweighs any possible embarrassment he may suffer from, so he continues on his mission.
The first two rooms are revealed to be empty, leaving just one more. Megumi takes a deep breath before trying to turn the handle.
It’s locked. 
His gut is telling him something isn’t right, but he’s forcing himself to chalk it all up to paranoia. He curses under his breath, wondering why he even let you out of his sights for a single second.
Because he didn’t want to seem clingy. Because he didn’t want you to have any more reasons to keep on pushing him away. 
He decides to call you one more time, and as he’s listening to the dial tone, he hears a faint sound coming from the other side of the locked door.
It’s a phone ringing.
He presses his ear against the door, trying to make out any more sounds he possibly can. Is it still a coincidence when the phone stops ringing right as Megumi is greeted with your voicemail message of “sorry, I can’t come to the phone right now, but you probably should’ve just texted me!”
Without the annoying dial tone distracting him, Megumi can listen a little more clearly to what’s going on. There’s… there’s someone crying.
The voices are muffled, but he can make out bits and pieces of what’s being said.
“—fuck up… crying like a damn bitch… want this.”
He’s heard enough before he’s banging his shoulder against the door.
“OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR!” He’s screaming, hitting it again. There’s a chance, the voice of reason inside of him is saying, that it’s not you that’s crying behind that door. Even if it wasn’t, Megumi still wouldn’t have stood by idly. But instinct is telling him that it is you, and that’s enough cause for him to bang his shoulder against the door once again. He hears a scream, and a male voice cursing.
The force of his body banding against it is enough to have the door really test the strength of its lock. Megumi’s never been the bulkiest person in the world, but he’s still got some defined muscle to him. The door is creaking, almost bending to his will, but he fumbles in the dark for the gun safely tucked away by his side.
It’s a gift from Gojo. To speed up the process when something needs to be done quick is what Gojo said it was for. He’s never used it in such close proximity to you, but desperate times call for desperate measures.
No silencer. He forgot the fucking silencer. With the deep bass rumbling from the speakers, he doubts anyone would be able to hear the gun go off anyway. He aims for the handle, pulling back the safety, and fires once, then twice. With a foot aimed at the door, he kicks at it, pleased to see the way the abused door finally bends to his will.
The open door reveals a scene that makes Megumi see red: you, with tear stained cheeks and your clothes bunched up and strewn across the floor with a guy Megumi vaguely recognizes as someone sharing the same Econ class as the two of you — Mahito.
“You fucking bastard.” Megumi practically lunges forward, tossing his gun to the side. He doesn’t see reason, is numb to common sense at this moment. All he feels is the need to hurt this fucker. To make him bleed, to have him on the brink of death, to see the light of life leave his dark eyes.
Mahito is fast, but even he couldn’t imagine the speed that Megumi would possess when pushed to the edge. This is different from the fights you’ve witnessed during school. This is something entirelydifferent.
The first punch has Mahito wincing in pain. The second, third, and fourth ones are thrown back to back, and there’s no time given to recover, no chance to gain the upper hand. He’s falling down, and Megumi’s on top of him, drawing back his fist only to slam it against him again and againand again.
Megumi knows he’s got something fucked up inside of his head — what other explanation is there to reason with why he finds this bloody violence so satisfying? His knuckles are bloody, and he can’t tell where Mahito’s blood starts and where his own ends. There’s a wild grin on his face, one that you’ve never seen before. You’re not sure if it’s a trick of the shadows, but the feral expression on Megumi’s face transforms him from your loyal best friend to something monstrous.
“‘Gumi, st-stop.” The words stumble out of your mouth as hiccups, but you don’t miss the way Megumi’s raised arm freezes in its higher position before he slowly brings it back down to his side. He’s breathing deeply, and all is silent in the room.
As if the sound of your cries is enough to snap him out of his daze, it’s almost scary how fast his mood shifts. Just a second ago, he was hellbent on beating Mahito to a bloody pulp, and now the darkness drowning those blue eyes of his is practically gone. He makes his way to the bed, each step hurried but still hesitant. Do you even want to be near him right now? 
You answer his question with some more small sobs. “‘Gumi, I—”
“Shh, it’s okay, [Name].” He’s picking up your clothes from the floor, ready to help you get dressed. “Everything’s going to be okay.”
“Megumi.” His name seems to be the only thing you’re capable of saying right now. After he helps you get dressed, he’s thrown off guard when you cling to him, with your arms wrapped around his neck and your wet cheeks pressed against his shoulder.
The moment the two of you are exiting the room, both of you far too wrapped up with the other to pay him any mind, Mahito lets out a laugh before groaning at the pain Megumi inflicted.
The two of you don’t know what you just started, but no worries — Mahito has the means of ending it.
It’s only a matter of time.
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You’re too good to be true.
You won’t listen to him when he tells you this (you never do), but he swears you’re a fucking angel or something otherwordly. There’s no other possible explanation for just how breathtakingly beautiful you are, or how you’re the only thing consuming his every thought. Despite the fact that all the blood on his hands has reached an amount that he’s sure he’ll never truly be able to wash it all off, you don’t shy away from his touch. As a matter of fact, it seems like you’re keening for it.
“‘Gumi.” You mewl out, sticking out your tongue to lap at the precum on Megumi’s thumb.
You’re well aware of just how dangerous your boyfriend (the title makes you giddy every time you refer to him as that) is, but you know him. You know that the hands of a killer are the hands of your lover, and most of the time, you have a hard time believing the awful things he’s had to do with them. Because right now, those hands that are meant to be weapons are handling you with care, touching you so gently, you would have thought you were made of glass and ready to shatter.
“Look at you, all spread out for me. What happened to my precious, shy little girl, huh?” He removes the hand that was cradling your face back to his cock, stroking his length, the saliva from your tongue acting as a minor lubricant. The first time he fucked you was the first time you’ve ever had sex with anyone ever, and it had been the start of an addiction. You love Megumi. You love everything about him, from his character to his tenacity, all the way down to his cock, with its red tip that’s sticky with pre and leaking out more as he stares down at the obscene position you’re in.
Your face feels warm as he stares down at you, his eyes darkened with a mix of love and lust that you don’t think you’ll ever get used to being on the receiving end of.
“Need you, need you so bad, please, ‘Gumi—” You’re staring up at him, giving him your best doe eyes.
“Fuck.” Just the sight of you beneath him, completely bending to his will, whining out for him to pretty please fuck you has him ready to cum right on the fucking spot. He’s pressing the tip in, his breathing faltering just the slightest as the warmth you provide envelopes the most sensitive part of him, nearly causing him to lose all self control right then and there.
You let out a cry as he pushes himself deeper in you, making himself at home in your gummy walls, one hand gripping your hip and the other holding onto the headboard.
“You feel so good for me, baby, shit.” He hisses, waiting for you to adjust, impatient but willing to bear it if it means it’ll feel better for you in the long run. After all, there’s nothing he wouldn’t do, nothing he wouldn’t endure, just to ensure your happiness.
“Mm — ah — please.” There are still tears welling up in your eyes — precious girl, he hasn’t even began to properly fuck you, and you’re already tearing up? The sight of you completely and willingly at his mercy is enough to get him to start rutting his hips against yours, the satisfying sound of skin slapping against skin resounding and bouncing against the walls of his bedroom that is starting to feel more like the both of yours.
“Y’feel so fuckin’ good for me, baby.” He groans, his pace quickening, the thrusts getting sharper and rougher with every roll of his hips. You’re powerless against his strength, and this type of easy submission feels so natural, feels so good, when it’s him that’s taking advantage of it. “You’ve got the sweetest pussy, y’know that?  I could fuck you forever.”
His praise goes through one ear and out the other with you, but your heart swells up to twice its size. Even if you can’t focus on the words all too clearly, you’re still aware that Megumi’s probably praising you. You can come to this conclusion because he’s always praising you. He’s always so sweet, so gentle, so loving — when it comes to you, that is.
“Hng — daddy!” You can’t help but let out a high pitched moan as he hits that sweet spot inside of you that makes you buck your hips up.
There’s no way you don’t know what you’re doing. Clenching around his cock like that, making those cute little noises that he can’t help but want to hear all the time, and then calling him that.
“Daddy, daddy, daddy.” 
Forget igniting something within him; you whining for him, calling him something that’s the root cause of all his childhood traumas… That’s like dousing him with gasoline and tossing a lighter at him. He’s going to burn through all his energy, channel all this dark, feral energy, and use you as the one unfortunate enough to be on the receiving end.
He fucks into you so deeply that if your eyes weren’t shut tight, there’s no doubt that you wouldn’t see the unmistakable shape of his cock outlined against your tummy. The headboard is banging against the wall, and the squelching sounds of him roughly thrusting in and out of your sopping cunt is so lewd and so dirty that if you had any room to harbor a single ounce of shame, you would be downright embarrassed.
“How about you make me a daddy, huh? How about I fuck a baby in you?” He won’t lie and say it’s not something that’s never crossed his mind. The thought of your stomach round with a life the two of you created is enough to get him to continue with this near-brutal pace he’s set forth. “Doesn’t it sound nice, baby? My baby giving me a baby, what—” He grits his teeth as you tighten up. “—a fucking dream.”
“Baby. Wanna have your babies.” You cry out, tears spilling out and wetting your cheeks as your arms find their way to his neck and broad shoulders, trying to pull him in closer. The heat building up from within you feels like you’re about to fucking explode. “‘Gumi, I love you, Iloveyoupleasegimmeababy—'' Your words are practically unintelligible as you slur them out, the words sticking together as you cum all over his cock, all that pleasure that has been building up now physically tangible, if the white ring encasing his cock every time he pulls out is evidence.
“Fuck! You feel so fucking good. Always so fuckin’ tight.” He’s reaching his own end, and you’re just lying there, trying to recover from such an intense orgasm but unable to as your too sensitive walls clench around the constant intrusion of his cock. Spurred by your little love confession and his mind imagining his daydreams coming true — you, as his cute little housewife, taking care of the kids the two of you made together — he finally shoves himself as deep as he physically can, making sure that as he cums, nothing will spill out.
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“‘Gumi.” You whisper, your head resting against his chest, listening to the beat of his heart. “Did you mean it when you said you wanted to start a family?”
He’s silent for a minute.
“I wouldn’t mind starting a family with you.” And he means it. He knows this life isn’t one meant for children — look at how he turned out, for god’s sake — but he thinks that for you, he can do anything. Even make a family work out. As long as it’s what you want, he doesn’t mind how hard it may be.
You snuggle closer to him, burying your face in the warmth of his chest. “Good.” You mumble. “I wanna start a family with you, too.”
Megumi feels… at peace. Like he’s got the whole entire world in the palm of his hands. He wraps his arms around you, and realizes that no — right now, he’s got his world right in his arms.
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Mahito likes to play with his food before he devours them whole.
Humans are just so… vulnerable. Even the coldest people have a heart; it’s only a matter of whether or not they find someone warm enough to defrost it. Megumi Fushiguro, for example, likes to walk around this world, acting indifferent and claiming to follow his own moral conduct, only to give himself the biggest weakness he could possibly harbor: you.
He still remembers that party. He still remembers the way you were dressed like a little slut, completely oblivious (or maybe you were just acting coy) to the wolfish stares all the guys were giving you. He had the same class as you. Seen the way you clung to Gojo’s charity case, as if the ground would swallow Megumi whole if you let go of him. You’re cute, and you scream naive virgin, and that’s precisely why Mahito wanted to take you to that bedroom and have his way with you.
And then, your infamous little guard dog bared his teeth and pummeled him into the hardwood of a stranger’s bedroom floor.
Grudges are cancerous. If you don’t deal with it right away, it develops into something worse. It takes over all your internal organs, ruining you ‘til the only thing you can focus on is getting revenge. And the longer you wait, the more vengeful you get. It doesn’t become a matter of ruined pride or reestablishing honor — it becomes about inflicting the most pain one possibly can. It becomes about suffering — about transferring your pain, your anguish, onto someone else.
Mahito isn’t the type to hold grudges, but for Megumi, he’ll make a special exception. He wants to see just how well trained the boy is; after all, he’s been taken under the wing and supervision of Satoru Gojo, the myth himself. Surely, his student must be nearly as skilled, right?
It’s been a long game of watching and waiting on Mahito’s end. A lot of lurking in the shadows and gathering intel. It’s a lot more boring than he anticipated, but today’s the day where all his hard work finally comes to fruition. Megumi Fushiguro is going to regret ever interfering with him that one fateful night. The burning humiliation he’s felt has long since fizzled out, but since he’s already been set on the path of orchestrating Megumi’s destruction, he figures it only makes sense to see it through. You only can let go of a grudge after you get your proper revenge.
He’s been leaving Megumi all sort of taunting, teasing threats any chance he gets. Mahito’s got nothing but disgraced yakuza members on his side; those who have committed acts vile enough to get them kicked out of what is essentially a group of criminals. He knows how to be twisted — hell, twisted might be the only thing he knows how to be.
Killing girls that resemble you and sending him the photos. Taking videos of you when you’re out in public alone. Leaving voicemails for Megumi, ones that leave him pale faced and unable to breathe as he listens to how Mahito wants to tortue you.
Megumi’s been on edge for the past few months, unable to explain to you why. It’s why you don’t understand why Megumi won’t let you go back to your car, even though you left your phone in there.
“I’ll go. Or, we can go together.”
“You have to wait for our coffee! And besides, I don’t even know where I left my phone. It might not even be in the car, but you’ll just waste your time searching for it if it’s not there.”
“So then why do you have to go look for it?”
“Because it’s my phone? Also, I reeeeeallly don’t wanna have to wait for our coffee, so I figured looking for my phone in the car would kill some time.” You give him that sweet smile of yours that he loves so much before waving him goodbye. “I’ll be back by the time our order is ready, pinky promise!”
At the end of the day, it’s all luck. Mahito realizes this as you happily skip out of the crowded cafe, headed towards your car to search for your phone. He doesn’t know why you’re returning back to your car, doesn’t even really care. All he knows and all he cares about is that you’re headed there alone. And while you’ve been alone plenty of times, he’s never had an opportunity quite like this one. A chance to finally detonate the bomb that’s been lying dormant underneath your car, ready to be activated at the press of a button. He could’ve killed you plenty of times already, but it’s not enough to merely murder you. He wants to make it a spectacle, sure, but he also only cares about one audience member watching: Megumi.
From where he’s hiding, blending in with the rest of the customers from the bakery across the street, he’s got a decent enough view of Megumi, who’s sitting by the glass windows, watching you with furrowed brows as you unlock the car door.
Mahito can’t help the cruel smile that spreads across his face as pushes the remote connected to the bomb.
Nobody expects to hear the loud, resounding boom of something exploding. The surrounding cars parked next to yours have their alarms going off like crazy; it’s nothing but high pitched, blaring noises blending together to create a disruptive harmony. People are screaming, someone is on the line with emergency services, and—
—your precious car is set aflame, reduced to a burning pile of scrap metal no salvage yard will take.
In this moment, Megumi Fushiguro��s world crumbles to ashes.
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