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#but let me know if you made a piece and it isn't in the tag
llondonfog · 11 months
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thschei · 4 months
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I'm sure other people have done this already but I wanted to make my own
(The photo for "everybody lives" isn't the exact frame it's said, but I couldn't get his grin at that frame to look flattering, so I took 1 from right before he says it)
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The way people keep telling Carmy he's dead (because they mistake him for his brother), not even that he should be dead like his dreams say, but "you're dead," "aren't you dead," and it makes him seem like a ghost, like nothing more than a reflection of loss, but at the same time he keeps the restaurant alive because he IS still alive and he knows it so he keeps on making food (which obviously is massively connected with life and life-giving) he keeps on going into the restaurant because he's! not dead! Even though people keep telling him he is! Alexa play Hesitant Alien by Gerard Way!
(I still haven't been able to watch more than two episodes but I am Always Thinking About Them)
no but like!! that's the thing!!! is he keeps being told he's dead and it's not even on purpose but his dreams tell him it SHOULD be!!! and YET!!!!!! he keeps choosing to live and to try to get better and to try to make things better for other people!!! and WITH other people!! and this is very clearly illustrated specifically in the way he consistently apologizes to people when he screws something up/is a jerk!!! he is TRYING. trying for life and connection and healing and hope. Alexa play Famous Last Words by My Chemical Romance
#literally the second song i put on this playlist akskskdjksjs#(the first was punisher by pb bc ''i can't open my mouth and have nothing come out even if i could wouldn't know where to start#wouldn't know when to stop'' makes me think REALLY HARD about sydney)#i have like half of hesitant alien on the playlist maybe once you get to see the rest of the episodes I'll send it to you/post it#but like#YEAH it's about CHOOSING to live and CHOOSING to grow and get better and keep hoping!!!!#it makes me SO insane#the thesis i think really is ''and then you put the fire out'' bc that's.. a very specific but succinct way of summing it up#you can let everything burn down around you- life work hopes dreams- because of the pain and maybe that would#make it all stop hurting. ''if this place goes away it'll take all my anxiety with it''#and it isn't carmy who says then you put the fire out- it's MARCUS who says it and then carmy repeats it#(this is from ep5 sorry skskjfhdk it really is the thesis moment tho)#bc not only is it about making that choice to ''put the fire out'' and keep on living#but also. it isn't a one-person thing. you cannot do it alone he can't do it alone!!!#there needs to be COMMUNITY!!!! richie putting out the actual fire towards the end of the show etc etc etc#syd is the sharpie that works she's the missing piece!!!#idk why i can write meta better in tags shdhssj whoops#this ask may have made my day btw ily <3#Lu rambles#asks#meta finding tag#the bear#BTW GRACIE BABE when u get to watch the rest pleeeeease feel free to throw Thoughts into my inbox 👀#i eagerly await your opinions on the rest of it skksskkskks
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inkskinned · 4 months
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most writing advice is good as long as you know why it is good, at which point it is also bad. the hardest thing (and most precious thing) about being an artist is that you gotta learn how to take critique. i don't mean "just shut up and accept that people hate your work," i mean you need to learn what the critique is saying and then figure out if it actually helps.
i usually tell people reading my work: "i'm collecting data, so everything is useful." i ask them where they put the book down, even though it's too long for most people to read in 1 sitting. i ask them what they thought of certain characters. i let them tell me it was really good but i like it more when they look a little stunned and say i forgot i was reading your book, which means they forgot i exist, which is very good news.
sometimes people i didn't ask will read my work and tell me i don't like it. and that is okay, you don't have to like it. but i look at the thing that they don't like and try to figure out if i care. i don't like that you don't capitalize. this one is common, and i have already thought about it. i do not care, it's because of chronic pain and frankly i like the little shape of small letters. you use teeth and ribs in all your work. actually that is very true. i don't know what's up with that. next time i will work to figure out a different word, thank you. you're whiny, go outside. someone said that to me recently and it made me laugh. i am on the whine-about-it website as an internet poet. you are in my native habitat, watching me perform a natural enrichment behavior. but i like the dip of whiny, how the word itself does "whine" (up/down, the sound out your nose on the y), but i don't know if i want to feel whiny. maybe next time i will work on it being melancholy, like what you would call a male writer's poetry.
repeated "good" advice clangs in a bell and doesn't hold a real shape, dilutes in the water. like sometimes you will hear "don't use said." you turn that around in your head and it bounces off the edges of your brain like it is a dvd screensaver. it isn't bad advice, but it feels wrong somehow, like saying easy choices are illegal! sometimes i will only use "said." sometimes i will just kick dialogue tags out to the trash. sometimes i make little love poems where the fact that i do not say "said" is very bad, and makes you feel bad in your body, because someone didn't say something. i am a contrary little shitbird, i guess.
but it is also good advice, actually. it is trying to say that "said" sometimes is clutter. it makes new writers think about the very-small words and very-small choices, because actually your work matters and wordchoice matters. "i know," you said. "i know," you sighed. "i know." we both know but neither of us use a dialogue tag, because we are in a contemporary lit piece.
it is too-small to say don't use said. but it is a big command, so it gets your attention. what are you relying on? what easy choices do you make? when you edit, do you choose the same thing? can you make a different choice? sometimes we need the blankness of said, how it slides into the background. sometimes we don't.
i usually say best advice is to read, but i also mean read books you don't like, because that will make you angry enough to write your own book. i also mean read good books, which will break your heart and remind you that you are a very small person and your voice is a seashell. i also mean you need to eat books because reading a book is a writer's version of studying.
my creative writing teacher in the 7th grade had a big red list of no! words and on it was SUNSET. RAZORS. LOVE. GALAXY. DEATH. BLOOD. PAIN. I liked that razor and love were tucked next to each other like birds, and found it funny that he believed we were too young to know the weight of razor in the context of pain. i hated him and his Grateful Dead belt, where the colored teddy bears held up his appraisal of us. i hated his no list. it is very good/bad advice. i wasn't old enough yet to know that when you are writing about death you are also writing about sunsets and when you write about love you are tucking yourself into a napkin that never stops folding.
back then my poetry was all bloody, dripped with agony when you picked it up. i didn't know there is nothing beautiful about a razor, nothing exciting about pain. i just understood sharpness, which he took to mean i understood nothing. i wrote the razor down and it wasn't easy, but it was necessary. that's what i'm saying - sometimes it's good advice, because it's not always necessary. and sometimes it is very bad advice, because writing about it is lifesaving.
hang on my dog was just having a nightmare. i heard that it is a rule not to write about dogs - in my creative writing mfa, my teacher rolled her eyes and said everyone writes a dead dog. the literature streets are littered in canine bodies. i watched the rise and fall of his ribs (there is that word again) and had to reach out and stop the bad dream. when he woke up he didn't recognize me, and he was afraid.
it is good/bad advice to say that poems and writing have to mean something. it is bad/good advice to say they're big feelings in small packages. it is better advice to say that when my dog saw where he was, he relaxed immediately, rubbed his face against me. someone on instagram would make fun of that moment by writing their "internet poetry" as a sentence that tumbles across a white page: outside it is sunset and my dog is still in a gutter, bleeding a galaxy out of his left paw. or maybe it would be: i woke the dog up/the dog forgot i loved him/and i saw the shape of a senseless/and impossible pain.
the dog is alive in this one, and he is happy. when i tell you i love you, i know what i said. write what you need to write, be gentle to yourself about it. the advice is only as good as far as it helps. the rest is just fencing. take stock of the boundaries, and then break them. there's always somewhere else you could be growing.
i love you, keep going.
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suguann · 4 months
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I HOPE YOU STAY—GOJO SATORU
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✎. he’d asked why your coworkers weren’t waiting outside with you—it's not safe here—at the same time you asked for a kiss. it just sort of slipped out. | wc. 2.8k+
tags. fem!reader, grinding, unprotected sex, oral sex, some mutual pining (it's implied he doesn't know how to talk to reader), there is not a world where gojo isn't rich, fwb to lovers, jealousy, gagging on how very much in love gojo is with reader and she doesn't see it, praise kink, pet names [18+ only]
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You’re not sure how it all started.
(As how all arrangements like these seem to start.) 
You remember calling Gojo on a night out with your coworkers—one too many cheap vodka cranberries in your system clouding your judgment—just as he left the office for the day, asking if he could pick you up from a shady nightclub downtown. 
(You’d hardly been acquaintances, and there was a long period of time where you’re sure he only tolerated you for Shoko’s sake since she’s the one who dragged you into their group of friends. You’re always the last one he acknowledges in the room, and he seems to clam up when you’re alone together.
You refused to let it get to you. Especially when you only see him a handful of times every other month or so, although less now that you’re around, and you pretend it doesn’t eat at you.)
It’s still a mystery why you called him out of everyone you know—you had to scroll through an endless amount of contacts just to find a message you sent him months ago that he left on read with the express purpose of annoying you—and even more surprising that he answered.
You didn’t know him as well as Shoko, but maybe a secret hidden part of you knew he’d help if you were in a pinch.
“Hello?” 
(He might be the most infuriating human you know, but he has a voice like rich bourbon. 
He’s also stupidly attractive. Beautiful, even, with his straight nose, soft-looking mouth, and thick hair that adorably curls around his ears. However, you’d never say that to his face, for his head would get too big.)
“Do you think you could give me a ride?” It was almost a miracle that your words didn’t slur.
You half expected him to hang up, but then he asked for the address, and several minutes later, he pulled up to the curb in his shiny sports car that probably cost more than everything you own combined and watched you stumble into the soft-leather passenger seat. 
It should be embarrassing how long it took you to buckle your seatbelt, but then you finally got a good look at him and took note of his expensive-looking suit: his tie slightly undone, shiny watch and cuff links glinting under the passing street lights, how his hair looked like he ran one of his bear paws for hands through it several times. 
You think it was the first time you realized he was as tall as he was wide.
The quintessential businessman in a three-piece suit. You understand the appeal now. 
(That je ne sais quoi that makes you want something out of reach. Why your friends from college ask if he’s single when all you see is a man who never takes anything seriously.)
He’d asked why your coworkers weren’t waiting outside with you—it's not safe here—at the same time you asked for a kiss. It just sort of slipped out.
Gojo gave you a look that would have made you giggle if you weren’t serious. “What?”
“I want a kiss,” you told him again.
It was the little once-over he gave you afterward, the way he missed the exit to your street and took the one that led to his, how he kissed you until your knees were wobbly and weak, and you could barely walk to his door in your heels as he pressed small ones around your mouth while his fingers sunk into your hair.
(That. That—)
You came against his thigh—staining his Burberry suit while he whispered dirty things into your ear—right there in the hallway where anybody could see if he didn’t have the whole floor to himself.
“Fuck, baby,” he groaned into your mouth once he had you in his room, his hands trailing up and down your sides until he found the zipper for your dress and tugged. "I can't believe this is really happening."
(Later, you spend a lot of time analyzing what he meant.)
You urged him toward the bed when he had the black slip of fabric pooling at your feet, dropping down to your knees in front of him, and together, you scrabbled at his pants, shoving them around his hips. You’ll never forget how hot and heavy he was in your hand that first time, how your fingers barely touched and looked so small in comparison.
There was a thick vein along the underside of his cock, and you trailed it with your tongue, going up and up until you took the slightly purpling head into your open mouth.
You kept taking more of him until you couldn’t go any further without gagging, which wasn’t far because he was big—possibly the biggest dick you’ve ever seen outside of porn—and it made you a little dizzy how quickly it robbed you of air. 
“Holy shit.” He stroked your hair so softly, so sweetly, groaned things that made you preen and nuzzle into his touch. “You’re so good at this. You gonna let me cum down that throat?”
That made your belly flip—the fact that Gojo Satoru, of all people, called you good—a stone creating a current of new possibilities.
You hummed a muffled “Uh huh” and squeaked when he held your head down—the coarse hair at his pubic bone brushing against your nose—cumming down your throat in hot, heavy spurts, and you’re surprised you swallowed it all because it was a lot.
He fell back against the mattress, freeing you of his grip, arms spread wide and panting as he lay there with his eyes closed.
“Was it good?” you asked, licking away the small amount of cum that escaped the corner of your mouth.
That got him to pop his head up to look at you, a hint of something too soft on his face than you were used to from him. “Come here,” and he let you crawl into his lap.
A sigh escaped his lips as his hands hovered close to the side of your waist before letting them fall back against the mattress. “You’re trouble, you know that?” he mumbled after kissing your forehead.
(That’s how you think it started.)
~~~~~
Everything’s fine.
Perfectly fine before Gojo sits by you, casually planting himself between you and the newest member of your group of friends, Nanami. You roll your eyes at how childish he’s being, refusing to react to his blatant jealousy.
Then he inconspicuously rests his hand on your knee. You jump at first, and the few people sitting at the table with you glance at you curiously, including Gojo, who gives you a mischievous little smirk that can only mean trouble. 
Again, you roll your eyes and choose to ignore whatever is going on in that lizard brain of his.
That doesn’t last long because he’s leaning across you to grab a handful of pretzels, only to lean in close, lips brushing the shell of your ear as he sinks back into his seat.
“You look so fucking good in this dress right now.” His voice already sounds hoarse, stretched thin—raw with want—and you inconspicuously rub your thighs together under the table. “Are you wearing what I bought you underneath? You’d show me, yeah?”
(Because he buys you things now—perfectly normal for someone you’re sleeping with who’s not your boyfriend, but maybe your friend—and sometimes you playfully call him Daddy when he has your wrists tied above your head with one of his silky ties.
And who cares if a few of your things and a toothbrush have found their way into his place? He lives closer to your job. Nobody can blame you for choosing convenience over a forty-minute ride through the subway.
Normal.)
Distantly, you’re aware that you aren’t alone, and there are several ears within earshot distance, but that doesn’t stop the little gasp that escapes past your lips. 
“Satoru, knock it off.” You glance around the table to make sure no one is paying attention, your tensed shoulders relaxing a little when you find everyone too preoccupied with their own conversations.
Gojo already has acknowledged this, too. 
“I bet you still taste just as sweet as you did this morning. You have no idea how much I want you. It’s making me hard just thinking about it.” At that, you peek down at his lap to find the prominent bulge pressing against his khaki pants. 
“Oh?” voice soft when you finally tear your eyes away from his crotch to meet his heated gaze again.
“Mhm.” 
Oh. 
You can tell that he sees your walls cracking, that it would only take a few sweet words before you finally caved: “You’d let me have another taste, wouldn’t you?”
Your breath hitches because, yes, you would. 
That’s how you find yourself with your thighs parted and one of your legs draped over his.
You bite your lip, trying to hold back the moan threatening to escape while the rough pad of his middle finger presses small circles over the top of your panties. His fingers tease, exploring the slick seam of you and retreating when you start arching your hips up into his touch.
It feels like you can’t breathe—or perhaps you’re too fearful to find out what other noises you’d make if you did—practically choking on the torturous (because that’s what this is) pleasure you’re receiving, and you’re ready to beg. You really are. However, you aren’t prepared to face the mortifying consequences if you happen to open your mouth.
Something that sounds a lot like, please, just waiting on the tip of your tongue.
It feels like every pair of eyes at that small table are on you, but they’re none the wiser to what is currently happening beneath the party-themed tablecloth, still laughing and mingling around the yard as they celebrate Geto’s birthday. 
It’s not as if it’s all that obvious, either. 
Gojo is turned away from you, currently in the middle of a discussion with the birthday boy himself. You have no clue what they were talking about because you’d stopped paying attention a while ago—not that you’d be able to listen if you wanted to with Gojo’s fingers turning every spun cotton candy thought back into melted sugar. 
He traces lightly over the covered seam of your lips before finally slipping under the silky material—his skilled fingers working slippery circles at the apex of your thighs—and the subtle relief forces you to swallow another moan. 
“Satoru,” you warn under your breath, grabbing his wrist to stop his movements. But the feel of him patting your sticky, sensitive clit with three fingers cuts off all of your protests, forcing you to sit there and let him play with you.
Heat crawls up your neck as he explores your slick folds, the loud music, and chatter, thankfully hiding the wet sounds produced between your legs. 
He does offer some mercy when he notices the slight quiver in your thighs, how they jump and jump until he stops teasing to press to fingers inside you and grind the heel of his palm into your clit. Your hips start rocking forward against his hand slightly, and you pray nobody notices because the heat spreading through your belly is almost too consuming to stop now, making you dizzy with it. 
Your abs hurt from how hard they clench, and your legs shake, culminating in a slow drop just before you resurface. Gojo can probably feel it—attuned to your body after all these months—and starts moving in a steady rhythm, and—
The breath you’re about to take gets caught in your throat, fingers gripping Gojo’s wrist and the ledge of the table as you tip over the edge. Your legs tremble while you convulse onto his hand, and you have to lean into him to keep from falling out of your chair. 
His fingers bring you back down, slowly, rubbing soothingly against your inner thigh as the fog gradually dissipates from your brain. And what you’d give to hear him call you his good girl at that moment—
“Hey, are you okay?” Shoko asks you from across the table. “You don’t look so good.”
All eyes turn towards you, including the smug little gleam in Gojo’s. 
“Yeah,” you squeak before standing up hastily. You pull Gojo up with you, not caring that it’s the same hand covered in your sticky-wet slick. “I just remembered that I need Sa—Gojo’s help with something.”
Only a few are dumb enough to believe that lie, and you avoid the smirk Shoko gives you as she watches you practically drag Gojo toward the house.
(Because, of course, she knows.
And perhaps she’s not the only one.)
~~~~~
The tipping point in your relationship—the one that turns it from a maybe into a definite something, and not just two people who have been having sex and somewhat living together for six months—happens on a night Gojo comes home late from work. 
(Exactly five minutes to eleven.)
You’re not usually the jealous type, but you’ll admit that dating someone like Gojo—rich, attractive, owns more Tom Ford suits than you have jeans, and just important enough that he has an assistant who runs said suits to the dry cleaners—can stir up some insecurities.
A more reasonable person would lay out the facts like a deck of cards: you know he’s someone’s boss’s boss, so he likely had to stay behind to fix someone else’s mess, but the proverbial chip onto the poker table comes with his new assistant. 
Hinata.
A girl who’s fresh out of college and around him more hours of the day than you see him during the week, and from the few times you stopped by his office, you can tell she has a thing for him—her lack of subtlety could compete with Gojo’s nonexistent observation skills.
Much later, after you’ve slept on the softest sheets you’ve ever laid on, you’ll admit you overreacted. How you shouldn’t have thrown blankets and pillows at him from his bed for him to sleep on the couch with as soon as he walked through the front door—not to mention how you never give him a chance to explain himself and keep huffing whenever he opened his mouth.
After the second pillow (almost comically, if you weren’t so upset) hits him square in the face, he drops the blankets to grab your wrists.
“Would you stop throwing blankets at me and tell me what’s wrong?”
"Like you don't know," you hiss unhelpfully just to be difficult.
"I wouldn't be asking if I did." This time, his voice is softer when he says, "Talk to me."
"It’s your assistant."
He frowns. “My assistant…?”
“Yes, your assistant,” you huff, making an unsuccessful attempt to yank your wrists free. “She obviously has a thing for you, but you’re too thick to notice. You forgot your phone, and she answered and said you were busy...”
He probably sees the vulnerability on your face. Hears what you’re not telling him because he presses a kiss to your forehead—I’m not seeing anyone other than you—another to your mouth before he’s showing you with your thighs pressed to your chest that every piece of him (even the parts he doesn’t show to anyone else) is yours.
“You want me to send this video to her to let her know you’re the only girl I want to fuck?” he grunts, making sure his phone captures the way his cock pushes in and out of you, hissing dirtier things that only you hear—the tightest pussy he’s ever had. “Would you like that?”
“Y-yes,” you whine, fingernails digging into his hand wrapped around your throat. “Please, Toru. I want it.” 
“So fucking dirty,” he growls, even though he’d do it for you anyway.
He stuffs his cock into you over and over again until you’re a twitching mess underneath him, the walls of your cunt clenching down around him as you cum with a squeak.
“There you go,” he groans into your ear, tossing his phone to the side to pin you against the mattress so he can reach that tender spot deep inside you that made you cum so hard once your foot cramped, his teeth sinking into your shoulder. “Is that what you needed? To make you cum because you’re mine? Fuck, baby—I’ll never get tired of this perfect little cunt.”
“Better not,” you whimper, eyelashes wet, squirming beneath him as he fucks you hard into the soft sheets.
“Never, sweetheart, never.” Gojo’s thrusts turn rough and brutal, almost working you into overstimulation just to prove a point. "You're my girl. The only one for me."
It's not quite an 'I love you,' but it's close.
Afterward, he pulls you between the sheets, holds you close with a hand cupping the back of your head, and asks you to stay.
“For good this time. No more leaving in the morning,” he whispers, lips grazing your cheek. “You like the walk-in closet and the clawfoot tub. We have enough room to turn the spare bedroom into an office for you because you like how sunny it gets in there during the day.”
It’s not a question, but you still say ‘I do’ because you really like how the word we sounds coming from him.
“Then…stay.”
…You say yes because it’s not as if you want to be anywhere else.
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ambiguouspuzuma · 1 year
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The single most important piece of writing advice I would give to a lot of amateur writers is to write less beautifully - or at least to write beautifully less.
I rarely find a piece of writing I can't read because it's too simple, or too concise and to-the-point - not memorable, perhaps, but also not a headache on a page. On the other hand, I see loads of pieces which are effectively unreadable because they're far too rich to swallow, and badly in need of watering down a bit.
The absolute worst culprit is the dialogue tags and stage directions. I'm a big fan of letting people write in their own style, but I would love it if a lot of writers could please cool it with letting me know every time a character blinks or licks their lips. I don't need to know that, especially if it happens every time they speak.
So many dialogue excerpts look like this:
"So this is how we talk?" he queried quietly, his eyebrows furrowed into knots. "Apparently," she replied with a puzzled grin, bouncing on the balls of her feet with restless energy. "Isn't that... exhausting?" he questioned, a lop-sided smile snaking its way across his lips. "The bouncing?" she asked shyly, her eyelids fluttering in shame. "No, of course not," he told her, his lean arms reached out to pull her closer. He buried his face into the mess of her hair, taking a deep breath of her perfume. "I just feel a little nauseated by all of these actions." "I don't know what you mean," she giggled, brushing the hair back out of her eyes as her cheeks flushed red. "Don't worry," he sighed, rolling his eyes up towards the ceiling.
I'm assuming this is a convention that comes from somewhere, given its ubiquity - perhaps somewhere in the world of fanfiction, where there will be short, intimate pieces entirely focused on the ways in which characters interact with each other. But to me, in an original work, it's so exhausting that I can't make it down the rest of the page.
Dialogue may be the worst, or most obvious offender, but the same principle extends pretty much everywhere else. Each line doesn't have to be some great quote you can hang on your wall, and it's hard to read a whole story written like that.
There's been some recent backlash on here against modern films where every line of dialogue is a quip, at the expense of building an authentic conversation, but that's how a lot of people start out writing - thinking that each sentence should be made as flowery as possible, when too many flowers in the same pot will crowd each other out.
You need to leave some gaps to let the sunlight in, and illuminate the beauty of the occasional flourish you do include. Think of it like vanilla extract, to make a reference that was topical when I started writing this post: you need to add a little for flavour, without which the writing will be too dull, but tip the bottle and I will actually be sick. Write beautifully less. Learn to embrace the prosaic.
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kenslilove · 4 months
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᯽៰ ͘ ࣭⸰ 𖥔 ͙ࣳ Who’s Little Sister?! Pt.2
preview: You called him your boyfriend? Why would you do that? Draken isn't sure he's cut out to be the boyfriend to Takemichi's precious little sister...
ft. Ken "Draken" Ryuuguji x fem!reader
wc. 9kish... help 🫠🤪😰😵‍💫🥴🤡
W. NFSW 18+ MINORS DNI, age gap (Draken is in his late 20’s and owns the bike shop, reader is in their early 20’s in university), fem reader (takemichi’s little sister), crybaby/bimbo reader, angsty in the middle, Draken is very insecure of his ability to be in a relationship, slight exhibitionism (Draken fucks you while on call), multiple cream pies, messy make-outs, oral (m!receiving), mating press, squirting, lots of praise, aftercare, lots of pet names, it gets soft and passionate at the end 🥹🥹
an. The long-awaited part 2 of “Who’s Little Sister.” I put my heart, soul, and pussy into this piece. I think it's my favourite thing I've ever written in all honesty, it very much encapsulates how I think Draken’s and I’s relationship would start. God, I love him so much. It’s also the first time I've written anything remotely angsty though, and I can’t tell if it's lame or not LMFAO. Please, let me know what you think. I'm so very happy to be reposting this piece on this blog to share with yall, it’s literally so important to me <33 and I’m so so happy this is the fic that is bringing back my writing spark! Part 3 will hopefully be even better than this 🙏🏼🤭 Constructive feedback, comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated. 
extra note: Listen to “Nothings gonna hurt you baby.” By Cigarettes After Sex during the last scene. It’s Kenny’s and I’s selfship song and help inspired me for the ending <33
tagging: @enchantedforest-network @eveningatthemoviesnetwork and @shoyosdoll bc you've been such a supporter of this fic hehe <33 i hope you love part 2 as much as part 1 <33
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“Draken-Kun, are you coming tonight?” 
There was silence on Draken’s end of the phone as all the other males on-call waited for a response. Mikey was the first one to say something back, annoyance clear in his tone as he spoke directly into the receiver, making his voice sound much louder than necessary. 
“Oi, Ken-Chin, get off the phone if you’re just gonna ignore us.” 
“Sorry–” Draken finally responded, his voice seeming just a bit more… strained than usual. Not enough for the boys to notice until he grunted softly, what seemed to be creaking or something muffled in the background of his audio call. 
“You good, dude?” Mitsuya piped up, his own voice a little muffled due to a sewing needle between his lips but nothing like Draken’s. 
“Oh yea, fuckin peachy–” Draken breathed in response, his huff coming out as a soft laugh when a bit of sweat started to roll down his temple. 
If he was being honest, he wasn’t really paying attention to the call, how could he, when you, Takemichi’s precious little sister was underneath him, sprawled out and trembled as his cock drilled into you at a steady pace. You were biting down on your bottom lip so hard, Draken swore that blood would free itself soon from the delicate flesh, your eyes screwed shut as your pretty chest bounced with each thrust of his hips. You were trying so hard for him to be quiet, just like he instructed as soon as he picked up the phone. The attempt was adorable, considering how vocal you usually were for him. 
But Draken was twisted, he knew that deep down, so he just couldn’t help himself when he angled his hips just right so his cock head would jab right into that gummy sweet spot within your walls. You yelped, pleasure shooting up your spine, only for the sound to be cut off by the smack of Draken’s free palm clamping over your mouth. 
“Who has a girl over~?” Baji piped up, suddenly very much interested in the conversation. Draken laughed shallowly into his receiver, his hand tightening up along your jaw as he continued to ram into the spot that made you see stars. You couldn’t even control your babbles when he did this, an endless stream of whimpers and sobs being muffled into his palm as you held onto his wrist for dear life. 
“Gotta go, Text me what time I needa be there–” Draken didn’t wait for a response from his friends. Instead, he hung up quickly, abandoning the device somewhere on the bed. When he released the hold on your mouth you whined at him, the tears finally spilling from your eyes. 
“K-Kenny, Kenny please– Please–!” 
“So fuckin loud pretty, all the damn time,” Draken says it with a grin, easily manhandling your thighs over his shoulders so he can fuck into you deeper. He presses a kiss to your ankle, right beside the anklet he bought you as your pussy flutters so desperately around his cock. 
“O-Oh! Please, Ken–!”
“Please what?” Draken grunts, his hips slapping up against yours ruthlessly now as his release comes dangerously close. He knew you weren’t far behind. Had learned your signs very early on. Your toes would curl, your eyes would get foggy, chest stuttering. Your pussy would milk him so tight and leave rings of arousal on his cock. 
And he loved every second of it. 
“Wanna cum, needa cum again–!” you pleaded with him, nails digging into the muscles of his flexing biceps. He nodded in agreement, his own voice becoming hoarse due to the sheer squeeze of your pussy. Although his pace started to get sloppy he still fucked into you, one hand slithering between your sweaty bodies in order to massage ruthlessly at your clit. 
“Go on then, cum, make a fuckin mess f’me gorgeous.” He breathes, licking his lips when you throw your head back with a cry. The mess you make on his cock is breathtaking, arousal squirting from your used hole and dousing his hand, wrist and abs. He swears under his breath at the borderline painful grip your pussy has on his cock when you finish, one final thrust allowing him to spill ropes of cum right up against your cervix. 
Draken’s trembling when he falls onto his elbows over you, his breath coming out a bit shaky as his cock still twitches within your walls in the aftermath of both of your highs. He starts pressing wet, opened-mouthed kisses along your neck and face to help you come too, a soft chuckle leaving his lips when you whine softly. 
“You okay baby?” His voice is a whisper, and as the energy slowly comes back to you he smooths his palm over your cheek, thumb swiping under your eye to pick up leftover tears. You nod, one of your trembly hands lazily dragging through his black locks of hair. “Mhm, m’good, Kenny. Help me sit up?” He does, one big palm on the back of your neck to help you to sit up against the headboard. 
He presses a smooch to your lips before easing himself out of you, both of you wincing softly from the loss of contact. It’s only when he pulls out completely and his softening cock falls against his thigh that he realises just how big of a mess the two of you made of yourself and the sheets. It makes him swell with pride, a grin slowly curling on his lips. 
You’ve come a long way, from the sweet girl who was just learning to cream on his cock to the messes you’ve made on his bed on the daily. 
“M’gunna get a cloth.” He says, handing you a glass of water and your phone as soon as he stands to keep you occupied. His muscles are still a bit tingly as he stands, arms stretching up and above his head as he heads towards the bathroom. 
“Nice butt!” You call out, making him snort softly as he stands before the bathroom mirror. He can’t help but admire the marks you’ve littered across his neck and chest, the cute little bruises reminding him of the shape of your puckered lips. He then examines the nail marks you’ve left along his forearms and shoulders, some of the red pathways breaking in the middle to show little droplets of blood. Lastly, he sighs dreamily at the sheen of your arousal that coats his pelvis, a ring of white still layered at his base. 
Man knew he was in heaven. 
When he came back to the bedroom after tidying himself a bit, as well as with a cloth in hand you were on the phone with someone, giggling into the receiver and looking up at Draken with a playful glint in your eye. 
“I’ll actually meet with you later, m’with my boyfriend right now~” Despite the way your giggling increased and you squealed to your friend about how you’ve mentioned him before with such excitement, Draken was anything but that. 
His chest tightened up, crease forming between his brow. Boyfriend? When did that become his title? 
“Kennnnnny~” You snapped him out of his thoughts, though his brows stayed furrowed. “Hurry! The mess is only getting bigger over here.”
One hand was planted on the mattress as he gently wiped the dampened towel over your pussy and thighs, your hand coming to cover his, making him pause in your tracks. “Shouldn’t scowl so much, handsome.” You murmur it gently, thumb gently smoothing between his brows in an attempt to fix the crinkles there. “You’ll get wrinkles~”
“You called me your boyfriend–” His voice was blunt, which took you by slight surprise. A little pout formed on your swollen lower lip as you subconsciously squeezed at his wrist. 
“Well, yea–”
“We haven’t talked about that.” He was still being blunt as ever, so much so it almost startled you, made you feel much smaller under him as he sat up on his hunched, throwing the soiled cloth into the laundry bin. 
“I-I know…” You simply muttered, chest started to feel tight as you watched just how serious his face had become. He was tugging his strands of black hair into a low bun when you sat up a bit more, fingers gently brushing over his chest. “But I just thought, thought that we were together…”
And it wasn’t wrong for you to think that way. Ever since that first night at Draken’s apartment the two of you had been secretly hanging out. You went out to restaurants, and the local arcade took his bike to the mountainside and watched the sunset. The two of you had bought little things for one another, like the gold anklet that sat pretty on your ankle and the hello kitty keychain that was currently attached to his bike keys. You even made sure to turn off your location so Takemichi couldn’t see just how often you were having sleepovers at Draken’s place. 
You two did the things that couples did together. You two did the things that you saw Takemichi and Hina do on the regular. Dare you even say, you did things with Draken that he and Emma used to do–
Plus, he was fucking you every chance he got. 
“Well, maybe you shoulda thought about talkin to me about it first before you go squealing that I’m your boyfriend.” His tone was harsher than he wanted it to be, a tone he usually used with his friends but never really with you. It had you suck in a soft breath, suddenly feeling very exposed curled up in nothing but his bedsheets. 
“You don’t have to be so mean–” 
“M’not being mean, I’m being realistic. It ain’t cute to just assume I’m your boyfriend when we haven’t talked about anything official.” He was off the bed now, tugging up his boxers. When you didn’t respond he sighed. “We hang out and fuck around, why do we need to be more than–” 
When he turned around again to look you in the eye his own voice caught in his throat. Your eyes had gotten wide, a glossy layer of tears hiding the usual beautiful shine your gaze held. Your lower lip was trembling softly, fingers clutching onto the covers so tightly he noticed how your knuckles turned white. 
“Hey–” 
“M’gunna go.” You interrupted, the crack in your tone only making his heart plummet harder in his chest. As you got to your feet, his blanket securely wrapped around you he grabbed both your shoulders. 
“Hey, don’t be like that (Y/N), you don’t even have a ride–” 
“Gunna call Michi.” You slipped out of his grasp by tucking yourself out from under his hands, bending to grab at your clothes scattered across the ground. 
“Like hell you are. We’re not telling him about us, remember what happened last time?” Draken could still hear the boy's ruthless comments after that first night, the crack of Baji’s fist against his jaw– 
“Don’t care, wanna go home.” Your muttering had gotten softer, ready to slip into the bathroom and shut the door right in his face. 
“Would you stop being such a brat?” Draken grabbed at your arm this time, tugging it back towards him. He himself hadn’t expected it to be so forceful, the little squeak you released and the falling of tears instantly making him let go of you. You both stared at each other a little shocked, Draken’s breath froze in his throat and his fingertips went a bit cold as you looked at him. 
Teary-eyed, shrunken in. Scared. Were you scared of him? 
Without a word, you finally went into the bathroom, and it was only then that Draken let out his frustrated breath, cheeks feeling hot as he clenched his fists up at his sides. Fuck, what the fuck was happening right now. He hated this nonsense, hated just how frustrated he felt, hated that look on your face, hated that he couldn’t even really understand what emotions were running through his head. 
Why was he mad anyway? Why was any of this really a big deal? 
He used his own phone to call you a cab, knowing you wouldn’t actually call Takemichi to pick you up. You had also gotten an ear full after getting caught, and as much as you trusted your brother, the last thing you needed right now was a lecture. You stayed locked in the bathroom until Draken gave the wood a gentle knock with his knuckles. 
“Cabs here…” He murmured. You didn’t look at him when you walked out, eyes bloodshot and downcast and when slipped past him fully clothed. He watched from the ledge of his bed, jaw set rigid as you so casually adjusted your bag over your shoulder, now a little overfilled with the stuff you had started to accumulate in his bathroom. Something slipped from your fingertips onto his kitchen counter before you made a beeline for the door, Draken only getting up when it closed firmly behind you. 
He approached slowly, that odd feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach seeming to grow, expanding into his chest as he noticed the subtle twinkle on the countertop. It was the anklet he bought you, dainty, gold, shiny, his initials hanging from the small tag. 
“Fuck—!“ His emotions boiled over into anger, face red when his fist connected with the drywall. A crack formed in the white fall, his knuckles taking on a deep purple almost instantly as he pulled his clenched fist back to his side. Instead, he let his forehead rest in the dent he just made, thoughts spiralling, making his heart pound in his chest. 
Had he really just done that? Made a big deal over nothing? Put his hands on you? And for what? 
You called him your boyfriend… was that really… so wrong? 
Was he really so set on “not being a sister fucker”, did he really care so much about what the boys thought, what people said about him, that he was willing to let you go? 
He wasn’t sure how long he stayed leaned up against the wall like that, thoughts running wildly through his mind, making it pound. Eventually, when his eyes started to get sore, narrowing down in an attempt to hold back unwanted angry tears he moved back to his room to plop himself down into bed. And he didn’t get up for the rest of the evening. 
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It had been a week. 
One whole week since you had left Draken’s apartment, and the two of you had not spoken since. Day three was when Draken caved and texted you, considering you had turned your location off for him so he couldn’t check up on you from time to time. 
“Are you okay? Please, we need to talk.” 
Radio silence. The message was left unread by you. He even sent another the day after, just a quick message but a little more firm than the last. 
“Don’t shut me out like this.” 
And still, nothing. It was killing Draken from the inside out. Each day that passed made him more anxious than the last. Were you okay? Did you hate him now? Were you crying to your brother? Draken couldn’t ask Takemichi about you, cause he didn’t even know you two were a thing in the first place. But every time he saw his black-haired friend his heart would stutter, tightening up in his chest. 
You laughed just like he did. Were you laughing right now? 
Draken had a bad habit of letting things like this consume him. Almost everything seemed to remind him of you or something the two of you had done and it was driving him a little crazy. And all because you had called him your boyfriend. 
All because Draken was afraid to commit to someone again despite his need to do so. All of his friends always thought he was so mature, and yet here he was, working through feelings that were staring him right in the face like some teenage boy. 
He kept his headphones in at the shop, his body hunched slightly on the stool he set up beside the bike he was currently repairing. The music was loud, drowning out not only the background noise but his thoughts that seem to repeat themselves over and over. His brows were slightly furrowed when he lifted from the busted engine only a moment, just enough to wipe away excess sweat that built up on his brow. 
That’s when he caught a glimpse of you. It made his heart pause mid-beat, breath hitching in his throat. He caught the last bits of you as you rounded the corner that led up the stairs, probably in search of Takemichi But that didn’t matter. 
Draken found himself scurrying from his seat, the stool skidding from under him as he was quick to follow suit. With long strides, he made it to the stairs and there you were, hand on the railing, one of those cute little skirts he loved hugging your waist just right. He called out to you, twice actually, quickly pulling his headphones from his ears when you actually turned to look at him. 
“Hey–” 
“I won’t be long.” You simply responded, voice sounding much too sad for Draken’s liking. He noticed how your hand tensed up on the railing when he approached and it made him frown. “I’m just grabbing something for Michi–”
“I wanna talk to you.” He took another step, a tentative one. He hated how your eyes were already getting a little glassy. “Let’s just talk, sweetheart.”
“Don’t wanna talk, Ken.” There was that familiar shake in your tone, the one he had become very aware of. You were just like your brother in so many ways.
His sweet little crybaby. 
“C’mere…” He was on the step right in front of you now, the levelling allowing him to lean down just a bit so his face could be close to yours. You took your time meeting his gaze, fingers now fidgeting with the hem of your skirt. “It’s okay baby…” 
“You–” He could tell you were trying to gather your bearings, trying so desperately not to crumble and let the tears fall that were already sitting in your lashes. He was patient with you, scared that if he went in too strong you’d just run off from him again. You sucked in a shaky breath before continuing. “You really hurt me, Draken.” 
He could have hissed, chest getting a little tight. He hated the way that nickname sounded coming from you. 
“I know, I know little love and–” 
“Do you not wanna be my boyfriend? I thought you liked me.” 
“I do like you–”
“Then be my boyfriend.” It had been a bit more firm than he expected, your brows set and a little pout on your lips after you spoke it. Had things been a little different, he would have told you just how proud he was of you for standing your ground like that. 
“It’s not, it's just not that simple.” It was his turn to think his words over, lips catching between his teeth as those doubtful thoughts started returning to him. He was right, wasn’t he? It wasn’t that simple because– 
“Why not?” You were being blunt again, words bordering on angry as you sniffled. The first few tears finally fell and Draken wanted nothing more than to wipe them away. 
“Well to start, there’s your brother–” 
“I don’t care what Michi thinks!” You groaned it out as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I wanna be with you, Ken–” 
“But–” He really hated that he couldn’t seem to find the right words. 
“What are you so afraid of?”  
That really made Draken stop, eyes widening just a bit as he looked back into your teary ones. Your chest was heaving a bit as the silence sat heavily between the two of you. Draken blinked, once, twice, brain reeling over this one simple question. 
Draken had been in many fights, grew up in a brothel, seen blood and gore and sex and a lot of things people shouldn’t see. He wasn’t scared any of those times. So, why now? Why was he so scared now as he looked into your eyes that were basically pleading with him for an answer. 
“I–” His words were shaky, and finally broke the intense gaze the two of you were sharing as he looked down. “I dunno.” 
There was another beat of silence before you continued up the staircase. Draken only looked up when he knew you were at the top, far enough away from him that he didn’t have to feel like your gaze was piercing him. He wished that he didn’t look though, wished that he hadn’t seen that sad smile on your lips. 
He never wanted to see that ever again, not on you. 
“I hope I’ll still be around when you figure it out.” 
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Drake wasn’t sure how much time had passed now since he had seen you. The first few days he refused to even think about that interaction on the stairs. That sad smile of yours easily pulls his heart apart and thinking back on it only made him more and more pissed at himself. 
So instead of thinking of you, he filled his time with work. He found himself opening and closing the shop, despite Inui trying to make him go back to their balanced schedule. He took on more projects, burying himself under the weight of grease and bolts instead of dealing with the weight that now sat in his chest.
You hadn’t come back to the shop yet either, he had a feeling you’d never come back. 
What got Draken out of work early one night was a call from Mitsuya. He called twice before Draken reluctantly picked up the phone, the annoyance clear in his tone as he held the phone to his ear with his shoulder. 
“Ya know m’working–” 
“Well, you sound just delighted to hear from me~” Mitsuya hummed, chuckling when he heard Draken’s grunt from the other end of the phone. Mitsuya was organising threads by colour when he spoke. “Come over tonight?” 
“I don’t feel like partying,” Draken answered back right away. What he meant though was that he didn’t wanna go in case Takemichi was there because then he would only remind him of– 
“It’s not gonna be a party doofus, it’ll just be us two.” Draken made a look of disgust, more so at the insult than anything else. “Just come.” 
“I have shit to do here–” He was trying his best to get out of this, but if anyone could see through Draken’s bullshit, it was Mitsuya. 
“You’ve locked yourself in that damn shop for the past week, I know you can make a little time to go out. Let Inui close tonight.”
“Nah, it’s my night.” It wasn’t.
“Bet you haven’t even showered.” 
“Oh fuck off–” Draken grunted, sniffing himself only because Mitsuya wasn’t there to give him the side-eye. He scowled softly to himself when the scent he picked up coming from his overalls was far from pleasant. “Will you quit nagging me if I come, mom?” 
“Absolutely buddy.” Mitsuya was chuckling softly, rolling in his chair to pull back up to his sewing table. “See you at 7, doofus.” 
Draken wasn’t given the opportunity to snap back with something clever, the phone went dead right away. With a huff Draken resultantly found himself putting his tools away, tucking his overused workbench in its proper corner so he could head off to Mistuya’s. 
But not without a shower first. 
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Draken’s hair was still damp when he headed for Mitsuya’s place. With how fast Draken sped his bike down the freeway, it only took about ten minutes tops. Draken lugged a case of beer with him up to the familiar walkway that belonged to Mitsuya’s townhouse. When he opened the door he still had his work glasses on, a lazy grin tugging on his features when he was met with the sight of Draken’s scowling face. 
“Would you look at that, he showered.”
Draken just rolled his eyes, nudging past Mitsuya and making himself at home. The two found themselves quickly situated on the couch, spread out on each end and open beers on coasters. Mitsuya had pulled out his old N64, so the two were currently in a round of Mario kart. The silence had been comfortable between the two, as it usually was until Mitsuay finally decided to speak up. 
“So, what's got you fucked up?” 
“What?” Draken said with a short laugh, his eyes staying glued to the tv screen. 
“You only get all solitary like this when something is really bothering you, so–” 
“Nothin’s up, m’good.” Draken simply grunted, which quickly turned into a scowl when Mitusya passed him for first place in the game. “Quit distracting me.” 
“Is it Takemichi’s little sister?”
Draken almost choked on his beer, finally looking away from the screen to look at Mitsuya who was still calm as ever. Only after he passed the finish line did he meet Draken’s gaze, one brow lifted up. 
“What about her?” 
“You were seeing her–” 
“I was not.” 
Now it was Mitsuya’s turn to laugh, a hearty one too that only made Draken’s brows furrow further. He pulled his glasses from his face, sighing out as he shook his head. 
“You think you’re so hard to read, but you’re not.” Mitsuya kept talking before Draken could bark at him. “I know you kept seeing her after that night.” 
“Okay, so?” Draken wasn’t sure why he was getting so defensive, maybe it was because it pissed him off that Mitsuya knew him better than he knew himself. 
“So, did you two break up?”
“We were never together.” Draken simply stated, going to start another round of Mario kart. But as soon as the words left his lips he hated the way they sounded, and now that they were out there, floating around his head it made him grip his controller a little tighter. 
“Oh, you weren’t?” Mitsuya said, that dumb smile of his making Draken shake his head, grit his teeth even. It was Mitsuya’s turn to scoff, tipping his beer back to polish it off. “You are such a fuckin doofus dude.” 
“Watch your mouth man–” 
“Why are ya doing this to yourself?” Draken sucked in a little breath. The silence hung in the air between them a little and Mitsuya rolled his eyes when he saw how Draken’s head tipped slightly to the side in confusion. He continued as he opened up another beer. “Why aren’t you letting yourself be happy? You can do commitment, you’ve done it before.” 
Draken felt a little frozen in place, eyes unfocused as he tried to process what Mitsuya had so obviously laid out for him. His heart started to pick up in his chest as he really thought it over, well at least tried to. “Yea, I did it before and look what happened.” 
Flashes of his relationship with Emma were impossible to ignore. How things went from wonderful to terrible so quickly. How the two of them became each other's world so fast for it all to crash and burn. The fighting, the lies, how he was so scared after he lost her but to also lose everyone he loved. His found family was all he had, and if they had decided to up and leave– 
“Sure, it was a bad breakup,” Mitsuya spoke with a simple shrug of his shoulders, looking at Draken’s pained face over the lip of his bottle. “But it didn’t stay bad, did it?” 
“Guess not…” Draken murmured. It didn’t. He didn’t lose his best friends, he didn’t even really lose Emma. After time apart and some growing up, the two had gone back to speaking terms. 
“So, let yourself be happy, dude.” 
“But she’s another little sister–” 
“Yea you have a type.” Mitsuya couldn’t help but laugh, especially after Draken sent his controller flying at him. Mitsuya thankfully caught it, holding a hand up in defence. “Relax! I’m joking… The boys are gonna bug you about it, but Draken, who the fuck cares.” 
Draken slowly nodded at that, allowing himself to really think it all over. He had never been the type to care so much about what others thought about him. He was letting himself get in his head for something that was already over and done with. Rubbing his hand over his forehead, he picked up another beer, shaking his head as he twisted the top off to chug some of it down. 
“I hate you, you know that?” He mumbled to Mitsuya, which only made him laugh out loud in response. He clinked his bottle up against Draken’s. 
“Love you too buddy. You should really make up with her.” Draken eyed Mitsuya over the lip of his beer. “I assume you said some dumb guy shit to her.” 
Draken pouted, mumbling something along the lines of “maybe I did” before he took another drink. Looking down the stem of the bottle Draken sighed softly, thinking of that sad smile on your face. It made him scoff at himself. “I just– I’m not sure I’ll be able to treat her right, as her boyfriend.” 
“Well, she’s stuck around this long, hasn’t she?” Mitsuya started to set up another game of Mario Kart for the two of them as Draken nodded slowly. “I’m sure if she didn’t think you’d treat her right, she woulda left.” 
Those couple words were left lingering in Draken’s head the rest of the evening. Mitsuya didn’t bring it up again, and Draken didn’t dare to. But as he started to pass out on his friend's couch, he had one too many beers to be driving himself home, he really thought over what Mitsuya had said. What he knew was right. 
I’m sure if she didn’t think you'd treat her right, she woulda left. 
Draken chuckled softly to himself, his palm coming up to slap him right on the forehead. The sting made him hiss to himself, but it's what he deserved. He’d never admit it out loud, but sometimes he wished his brain worked the way Mitsuya’s did. 
“I’m such an idiot.” He spoke, and it was Mitsuya sleepy agreeing with him on the couch beside him that had him laughing all over again. 
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He knew you’d be finishing classes up on campus right now, had picked you up and dropped you off many times before to know that you’d be coming out of the big college building any minute now. He parked right out front, his hands dug deep into his pockets as he watched the door. His eyes scanned over many faces, all different kinds, all of them filtering through, onyx gaze trying to lock onto– 
You. 
You were in the middle of giggling, those familiar wrinkles showing up around the corners of your eyes, your pretty manicured nails holding the books you had tighter to your chest. The image made him smile fondly, lips upturned just a little when the two of you finally made eye contact. 
He was more than grateful that you returned the small smile. The darkest parts of him had conceived him; you'd simply walk right by him, or even turn around in the opposite direction. But instead, you excused yourself from your friends, who all couldn’t help but side-eye the older, imitating dude leaning on a motorcycle, dragon tattoo on full display with his hair pulled up in a loose ponytail. As you approach he speaks, unable to keep his eyes off your own. 
“Hey.” 
“Hi, Ken.” Just the way you say his name makes his heart flutter a little. He moves to the side, opening up the small compartment on his bike that’ll allow you to put your books inside. 
“Come with me?” He asks, and the momentary silence makes him feel more nervous than he had in a long time. You could say no, he could have taken too long. You could have already slipped right out of his fingertips and it would be all his fault– 
“Okay.” You simply reply, and your smile doesn’t falter. It stays as you tuck your books away, as he places his helmet on your bread and helps you adjust the straps. You in front of him on the bike just as you had on that first night he picked you up. His hands easily swallowed yours on the handlebars, and before you knew it the two of you were speeding off towards his place. You knew that because the route had become too familiar after the many times he’d whisked you away after school. Your heart was beating fast in your chest like it normally did when you rode on Draken’s bike. It filled you with a type of adrenaline you hadn’t been able to find anywhere else. 
That and the fact that his hands seemed to be holding yours tighter than usual. 
After a couple of sharp turns and uphill roads, you two made it to Draken’s apartment. He gave you your space as you two headed to his room a couple of floors up, his heart seeming to be in his throat. He needed to relax, he knew exactly what he had to say to you, knew what he had to do, and yet as he fiddled with his keys a bit to find the right one that opened his apartment, the familiar scent of your perfume was making his brain a little foggy. 
It was the warmth of your fingers that shook him from whatever haze he was in, the tips of his ears feeling a bit hot as your fingers easily tugged the right key, helped him slip it into the lock. “It’s this one, Ken.” You say it as if your presence alone isn’t making him weak at the knees. 
He just nodded, allowing you in first. Shoes were slipped off and the two of you found yourself in his kitchen. You stood right in the middle, your arms tucked neatly behind your back, hands clasped. He missed the way you used to make yourself at home, grabbing something from his fridge or sprawling out on his couch. 
He wanted you to be that comfortable again. 
“I really needed to see you.” He started, his voice a little hesitant. He cleared his throat, fingers once again in his pockets. He looked everywhere but at you, despite the way he felt your gentle gaze burning into him. “I needed, I just–” He huffed. “I really fucked up–” 
There was your familiar warmth again, but instead, you were grabbing at one of his hands. So easily your fingers threaded into his, and suddenly the weight in his tummy didn’t feel all that heavy as he looked down at you, those wide pretty eyes he had missed so fucking much. “You did kinda fuck up–” You murmur, which makes him huff again, this time with a hint of laughter behind it. “I know I did. I know.”
He pulled you in a little closer, and he was so very grateful that you weren't resistant. In fact, you melted into his chest, your face finding that familiar comfortable spot against his peck, cheek pressed up against where you felt his heartbeat, which was currently pounding in his chest. He sucks in another breath, one hand coming to gently pet your head. “I’m sorry, I’m real sorry sweetheart…” He feels the way you start to tremble and it eats at him, brows furrowing up. “Please, don’t babygirl, m’tryna apologise to you–” 
“Don’t be dumb like that ever again Ken.” Your voice waves and he knows you’re about to cry, but he doesn't stop you from speaking, if anything, your shaky words only make him hold you tighter, a fond smile coming to his lips. “Don’t leave me like that again!” Your voice cracks and Ken has to chuckle under his breath, but there's no bite to his laughter, only fondness. “Next time, just talk to me. I-I know I’m younger and inexperienced b-but I know what I want and that's you–” 
That's when he finally stops you, one big palm cupping your cheek. He tilts your head up, thumb smoothing over your cheekbone before he's pressing a smooch to your lips. You both seem to relax against the embrace, and when he feels a salty tear hit his thumb he swipes it away, lips parting from your just enough so he can murmur against them. 
“I know, lil love. I know.” When your lower lip trembles a bit a smile breaks out on his lips. One that makes the corner of his lips twitch, little wrinkles showing up around his eyes. His hands cup your neck so gently, thumbs pressing up against the underside of your jaw. He murmurs again, this time his words slurred along with your breathy, soft whimper. “I want you too…” 
This time the kiss is desperate, needy. Your fingers turn white at the knuckles when you grip at his shirt, lips moulding against his own. Draken’s tongue is impatient, slithering into your open mouth and reexploring the warm cavern that is your mouth. He huffs when your chest presses flush to him, and with ease his big hands cup your thighs, scooping you into his embrace. Your legs cling to his waist without a thought, the giddy giggle bubbling from your lips and against his own making a bit of blush rise on his cheeks. 
Oh, how he missed that sweet, sweet sound. 
Draken tries not to trip over himself as he carries you off to his bedroom, his back hitting up against the door at the same time your teeth playfully tug at his bottom lip. He drops you down and the bounce of your body has both of you a little too excited, Draken’s shirt easily coming off as he tugs it up over his head. 
“Lemme show you how badly I want you, baby.” His voice has already gotten deeper, and as his big hand comes to cup the back of your neck to pull you in for another kiss he’s a bit surprised when both your palms press against his chest, pushing him away an inch.
Surprised and panicked. Was he moving too fast, did you think he was just using you in your vulnerable moment? Had he really fucked up so soon again– 
His breath left him in a huff when his back hit the mattress, your body rolling over him. He blinked a few times as you straddled him, palms pressed against his chest and your face heated. He could tell that a flush was working its way up to your cheeks when you looked down at him, your body slowly scooting down from his waist to his hips. 
“No, let me s-show you.” Despite just how nervous you were, Draken could tell by the way you chewed on your lower lip, how your fingers trembled a little, undoing his belt and zipper, his cock still twitched with excitement underneath you an odd sense of pride flowing through him. 
You had come a long way, from the virgin he met all those months ago. He had just been the biggest idiot and here he was, pushing his hair from his face so he could watch how your pretty little hands handled his semi-hard cock with such care. How you looked at him first, batted your lashes when you leaned in and pressed the sweetest of kisses right to his tip. 
“Oh fuck—“ 
Yea, he was never letting you go again, ever. 
You took a deep breath through your nose before taking his tip between your lips, your eyes never leaving his dilated ones. He propped himself up on an elbow, free hand easing the hair away from your face. It was a sight that would be burned into his mind forever. Wide doe eyes, hand barely wrapped around his fat base, pretty lips suckling away at his tip. 
“You’re gonna be the fuckin death of me pretty girl.” Draken chuckles breathlessly, and the little glint in your eyes tells him you would have smiled had your lips not been preoccupied. He kept his hand gentle on the back of your head as you slowly took more of him, your tongue flattening out against his underside. His head tilted back in a groan at your steady pace, the warmth of your mouth making his skin prickle with pleasure. His fingers curled in your hair just a bit, enough to hold him back from jerking his hips into you, make you gag– 
He’d save it for another time. 
“Atta girl…” He murmured, chest rising and falling a little faster as you gained your rhythm. Your eyes peaked up at him again, before you got back into it, cheeks hollowing as you took as much of him into your mouth as possible. You reached about halfway, which Draken noticed made your brows furrow up. 
“S’okay, we’ve got plenty of time to make it fit, keep going lil love.” He encouraged, and you listened, head continuing to bob faster, sloppier. Draken could feel your drool dribbling down his shaft and onto his balls and it made him shiver. It didn’t help that your ass was up high, practically swaying like an excited little puppy just to be sucking him off. Swearing under his breath a moment as his balls suddenly felt all too tight, he pulled you off his cock, the pornographic pop of your lips making him grunt, you whine. The string of drool connecting your swollen lips to his cock was thick, and when it snapped onto your chin Draken could feel himself getting lightheaded. 
“W-Why did you–” He silenced your whining with another fierce kiss, and without hesitation you were manhandled back into his pillows, flat on your back. He has no problem working your soiled panties off your thighs, deciding to just tuck the extra material of your skirt into the waistband “Felt fucking awesome.” Your panties are tossed right over your shoulder, a cute yelp leaving you when he hauls both your thighs up, over his shoulders. “But I wanna cum in this pretty pussy.” 
From this position your pussy was split wide open for him, your clit poking out and throbbing from under the hood. He sighed, content, pausing his previous actions to lean in, pressing the softest of kisses right up against your clit. 
“My pretty pussy.” His soft touch is gone, replaced with his burning desire to claim you again. A few rubs of his cock against your slicken folds, along with your drool is enough to get his cock wet enough to slip in. His breathing hitches once his head makes it past the tight ring of your muscles, the squeeze vice-like just from the simple intrusion. 
“K-Ken–” 
“Shh, I know.” He coos, hunching over you. With your thighs on his shoulders, his shifting has you in a mating press, a position that all too knew and is making your head spin. Your tummy folds the closer he gets to you, the pad of his thumb rubbing soothing circles into your clit while the other intertwines with the hand you had gripping the sheets close to your head. “S’always gonna be a lil tight, isn’t it babygirl.” 
You’re already moaning in a wonton fashion, eyes struggling to stay open as he rocks his cock head in and out, his thumb working at your nub. When your pussy starts fluttering for him he works in a few more inches, needy sounds spilling into each other mouth due to his lips staying inches away from your own. “Gonna take it all f’me? Be my good girl?”  
You nod, and when you look at him again your eyes have that familiar glassy sheen he’s grown to love. He kisses you right under the eye before with one good push his cock is all the way inside. The sound you make is downright sinful, something between a cry and a mewl and it has Draken’s cock twitching within the tightness of your cunt. It makes his vision go a little stary, the growl he releases vibrating through his chest. 
“Good fucking girl.” The slap of his hips into your ass resounds throughout the room, squelching soon coming from between your bodies. In this position his cock nuzzles your sweet spot, seeming to reach down deep, into parts of you that you didn’t even realise existed, and it quickly has you falling apart, babbles freely spilling from your lips, tears wetting your hot cheeks. Draken is quick to kiss them away, his fingers tightening around yours as he puffs hot pants along your face. 
“D-Deep~!” You manage to squeak, and Draken has to crack a grin, his hips suddenly stopping their brutal pace just so he can roll them instead. That had you gasping, drool spilling from your hung lips as you look up at him with a gaze that's already beyond fucked out. “S’real deep baby, s’good though yea?” 
You nod, fresh tears on your lashes. “Only the best for my baby.” He utters, hips switching back and forth between rutting and grinding. He’s convinced you’ve already cum on his cock, the amount of slick bubbling around his shaft and the tightness of your walls are his hints, but he keeps going, needing to fill you up after so long. Despite your cries, he brings his hand back to your clit, his rubs becoming sloppy. He only releases your hand to cup the back of your neck instead, keeping your foreheads pressed together. 
“Eyes on me, lil love.” You do manage to open your teary eyes, meeting his dilated pupils. “Good, good girl.” His body starts to twitch, broad shoulders rippling and his thighs starting to tremble as his own release quickly builds in his gut. “I– fuck. Baby, I love you, pretty–” 
And despite just how dumbed out you were moments before, those words seem to bring some clarity to your eyes. Your fingers tangle into his sweaty hair, gripping it at the roots for your sanity. The pleasant little laugh you let out and breathe against his lips makes his heart jump against his ribcage. 
“I love y-you Ken, love you so much, Kenny–” 
His climax hits him hard, the full-body chill he experiences making goosebumps rise along his spine as he fills you up. The feeling of his warm, thick cum is enough to have you coming undone right along with him, the sensation being yet another new one when liquid seems to gush past your little hole. It makes Draken’s balls tighten up instantly, the warm splash of your arousal onto his fingers that still gently coax pleasure out of your clit. And he can’t help but grin, a boyish grin that quickly turns into a grunt. “Fuck, fuckin squirtin on me, how cute.” 
He doesn’t pull out, he can’t. He needs to be close to you, keep your limp body tucked carefully underneath him. You’re too far in to even notice the mess, your whines and whimpers dwindling down into soft breaths as he turns to his side, keeping you in his chest. His cock slowly softens in your walls, and even then, Draken’s keeps you glued to him as you both come down, tremors and pants still coming over both of you. 
“Sweetheart.” He murmurs, face nuzzling up against your temple. When he gets a whine in return he holds you closer, careful to ease your face away from his chest so he can cover your tear-streaked face in kisses. “You’re okay, my baby…” 
Draken is usually more responsible than this. Then to let you two doze off without a proper clean-up. But feeling your soft heartbeat against his, your fingers still lost in his hair, your lips pressed right up into the crook of his neck and puffing soft air, he just couldn't bring himself to let go. He didn’t want to let go now, or ever. Keeping you here, wrapped in his embrace, he was certain that you’d be there tomorrow morning too, with that beautiful smile he had fallen stupidly, hopelessly, in love with. 
Fuck it. He was taking on the little sister fucker title with pride. 
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“Kenny, your hand is sweaty.” You murmur, trying to hold back your laughter when he shoots you a glare, pulling his hand away from you and dramatically rubbing it along his jeans. 
“Fine, just won’t hold your hand, brat” He grumbles, and that sets you over, wrapping your arms around him mid-walk to press small kisses along his collar bones. 
Draken hadn’t felt this nervous ever, in his entire life (this was a lie, he’s just dramatic as ever). The two of you were only steps away from your place, the same place you and Takemichi lived in together. Everyone was there, the entire found family, and you two were now official…
He was getting flashbacks of the group chat, his friend's ruthless behaviour, the way Takemichi hadn’t talked to him for one whole week, and the sweet satisfaction Baji got when he got one free punch to his jaw for Takemichi’s sake. 
“Maybe we can tell them next week, or over a call. Whattya think lil love,” Draken murmured, his face hiding in your hairline. Your sweet laughter sent that familiar warmth through his chest, and one good tug on his hand had him reluctantly walking back towards the house. “You’ll be fine.” You say with a smile, pressing a kiss to the back of his hand. “We’re gonna do it together.” 
When you hopped up onto the front step, Draken’s eyes trailed down to the sweet dangling sound that was the anklet looped around your ankle. The gold one, with his initials, right where it belonged. The sight had him calming a little, brows furrowed in the way they usually did when he became focused. “Right, together.” 
“Michi-nii!” You call out once the two of you enter the house, the sound of music and chatter already filling the front entrance. Draken holds your hand a little tighter as if he had been entering a place he’d never been before. 
“Living room!” Takemichi calls out, surrounded by founding members of toman, each huddled around the kotatsu table that was covered in snacks, beers, and cards. Oddly enough the chatter died down as Takemichi was dealing out for another round, a laugh leaving his lips. 
“You guys gonna take this round seriously–” It was Mikey’s elbow into his ribs that silenced him, a little puff escaping his lungs. He was about to complain when his eyes were brought to what everyone seemed to be staring at. 
And that was you, beaming smile and all, with your hand held tightly by Draken’s, who couldn't seem to make eye contact with anyone. 
“Hi Michi~ Hi everyone! What are ya–” 
“Finally.” Mitsuya was the first to mutter, leaning back further into his spot on the couch. “Chifuyu, you owe me 20 bucks, told you they’d come out today.” 
“No fair!” Chifuyu blurted out, grumbling when he reluctantly pulled bills from his pocket. Pah and Peh were the first to start laughing, clinking their beers together.” 
“Wait, you knew? How?” Mikey questioned Mitsuya, who triumphantly took the money from Chifuyu with a laugh of his own. Kazutora was even starting to crack up, hiding his smirk behind his beer. 
And despite all the commotion, Takemichi sat dumbfounded, eyes glued to yours and Draken’s intertwined hands. When he did finally speak, it only made the group that much rowdier. 
“Well, what the fuck is this–” 
“Time for another punch,” Baji said with that signature grin of his, basically hoping from his spot on the couch. 
“Wait wait!” You said, your pout only stirring the pot further. “No one is punching anyone! We’re–”
“We are dating,” Draken said, eyes a bit narrowed as he spoke. “We’re dating, Takemichi, I wanna date your sister, and I’m gonna.” 
There was another round of silence in the room, but it didn’t last, not when Pah mumbled under his breath. 
“Classic sister fucker–”
“Well, you could have at least asked first?!” Takemichi was dramatic as ever, tears swelling up in his eyes at the thought of his precious little sister being tarnished by the big, mean, scary man that was Draken. He let go of your hand then, being just as dramatic as Takemichi if not more so “I did ask, I just asked in front of everyone.” 
“But you’re already dating, have been a while no…?” Classic Mitsuya, stirring the pot and making everyone act up yet again. 
“Now why would you say that you ass–”
“C’mon Michi, I’ll punch him again for you, one good punch like last time–” Baji was punching at the air for emphasis. 
“Sister fucker behaviour,” Peh said with a shake of his head, only making Pah laugh harder. 
And amidst the bickering and nonsense that always seemed to break out between the boys, you took a seat next to Mikey, taking the Taiyaki he had to offer you with a little huff. He noticed the anklet, observant as ever as you rolled your eyes when Takemichi actually started crying, something about you losing your innocence. 
“He’ll treat you right.” You looked at Mikey, who spared you a small smile and a pat on the head. “Draken–”
“I know!” You responded happily, eyeing him as he held Baji back, the nerves he was feeling earlier long gone. You took a bite of the Taiyaki and giggled. 
“I can’t wait to be with him, forever!”
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property of kenslilove, do not copy, repost, translate, or move onto any other platform!! 
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m00nsbaby · 10 months
Text
AITA for texting my fiancé that "this isn't working"?
Steven Grant x reader.
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Tags & warnings. None. Yes, this literally is just a silly little thing that I read on reddit and I thought it was so funny lol. Reader is gender neutral!
Word count. 823.
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Moving in with Steven was one of the best decisions you could make in your life, right after saying 'yes' when he proposed.
The only inconvenience came at a precise time between morning and afternoon, sometimes even at night, all depending on the mood of his boss. Waiting for Steven to return from work was such a headache, boring hours and dead time as you tried to find your own job.
The upside was that you now had complete freedom to organize his apartment to your liking, and if anything needed a complete makeover, it was Steven Grant's dark and disorganized home.
You had just made a completely necessary expense, a gigantic mirror that was clearly bigger than your capabilities. Worse yet, considering that if there was something you despised with all your heart, it was the mere idea of reading an instruction manual.
When the mirror arrived, the Amazon delivery guy mocked you to your face for your difficulty in handling the box and getting it into the house.
You: Baby, the new mirror just came in!
You hit send after the message.
You: I’m going to try to put it together but I may need your help later.
And just as you said, you got to work with the phone by your side, waiting for a response from Steven.
You assumed Donna was in a terrible mood because at least two hours went by without a reply, although you were really too busy to worry about that.
For a moment, you insisted on the idea of finishing assembling the darn mirror before Steven arrived home, but that clearly didn't happen because for the two and a half hours of effort you put in, you didn't feel like you were really getting anywhere.
Plus, you had extra screws that shouldn't have been left over.
You: This isn’t working and at this point, I think I need to just give up.
You put the phone aside and lazily lay down on the carpet. Why was assembling furniture so hard? Although not as difficult as having to accept that you couldn't finish it on your own.
You stayed there not knowing how long, but you estimated it was a few hours because you heard the front door indicating that Steven was home. The smile lasted only a short while because as you straightened up to greet him, he walked past you without even looking at you, heading straight to the bedroom.
"Steven?" you questioned, slightly furrowing your brow. You stood up slowly, giving him time to exit the room.
When you finally confronted him, your heart almost jumped out of your chest. His eyes were red, completely filled with tears.
"What happened, baby?"
"Why?" he asked, his voice breaking. It shattered your heart into pieces.
"Why what, Steven?" He sniffled, and you searched his gaze when he started avoiding you.
"Why are you giving up on me?"
You nearly killed him right then and there.
"What are you talking about?"
He didn't take long to pull his phone out of his pocket and shake it a bit in front of your face; he was on the verge of sobbing.
"Y-Your messages, you were breaking up with me."
The moment Steven mentioned your text messages, you had to press your lips together to keep from laughing in his face.
Your expression almost made him cry harder. Were you making fun of him?
"Steven." Your voice came out in a playful tone as you almost burst into laughter. "I was talking about the mirror."
"Huh? What mirror?"
"The new mirror, it arrived." Your eyes were almost watering from holding back laughter. "I'm guessing that the previous messages didn't send; I was talking about not being able to assemble it on my own."
You stepped aside to let him see the mess you had made on the floor, with the mirror halfway assembled.
Steven exchanged glances between the things and you.
He looked at the things.
He looked at you.
He looked at the things.
He looked at you.
Realization hit in seconds, and you couldn't say anything more when you felt Steven's arms squeezing you against his chest. You couldn't stop laughing even though your laughter sounded odd, muffled by the fabric of his shirt.
"Bloody fucking hell, love!" Steven cursing was definitely a special event. It only made you laugh harder. "You almost gave me a heart attack!"
He lifted you off the ground, and tears were already streaming down your face. It took much longer than expected to calm down from the laughter.
Still breathless, you let him kiss your face, as well as embrace you with his strong arms that refused to let you go.
"Still, I need you to check the mirror." You took a deep breath, your cheeks already reddened, one of your hands held onto him, and the other wiped the corners of your eyes. "I think I damaged it."
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lizzieisright · 2 months
Note
omega abs ? 😣
oh my fucking god yes
female alpha!reader x omega!abby
Palestine: what can you do
Summary: Abby is sure she will never meet her dream alpha after what happened with Owen. And then she meets you.
Tags: dead dove: do not eat. a/b/o universe (female alphas have dicks), modern AU, descriptions of smut (heats/ruts), Owen is a piece of shit, reader is a sweetheart. Also I'll always make Ellie and Abby friends because their dynamic cracks me up every time.
Notes: this one is genuinely weird in terms of my writing style. It's 6k long for no reason except that I wanted to see how everything will play out and build some kind of omega!abby lore. Also it was meant as a bullet point thingy like hcs, but then it got too long, so the sentences might sound weird.
If you guys want something specific with omega!abby, reqs are open.
Me: *slaps the title of the fic* this bad boy can fit a whole multichapter in it.
/-/-/-/-/-/-
There's one thing Abby knows for certain when she turns 19: she is not a typical omega.
Abby's scent is not too sweet: she smells more like fresh roses than vanilla. All other omegas have more prominent scents, and Abby sees how alphas favour them. She is insecure about her scent, and she is not too prideful to admit she wants alphas to like her. Like any other omega Abby feels pressured by society to look a certain way - and she is already tall, so she starts going to the gym to get fit, to look more attractive, to grow that bubble butt everyone's talking about. She just started university and she wants to be cool.
(Ellie tells her it's all bullshit. Ellie is her biggest supporter and she is the one who growls at other alphas when it's needed. It's hilarious, because Ellie is fucking tiny. "I'm still an alpha, Anderson!" Ellie whines usually and Abby flicks her forehead.)
The gym works: she gets more attractive. Her butt is round, her arms are toned and her shoulders balance her hips, making her waist look thinner. Abby meets Owen and she thinks he is the one. He is the first alpha she spends her heat with. And well, maybe it's not how she imagined it would be, but Abby doesn't complain. After all, perfect alphas only exist in books and movies, not in reality.
(she dreamt about feeling safe and protected with her alpha, feeling loved and taken care of. Owen is all growls and bruises.)
Ellie hates Owen's guts. There's always some sick smell when they're in the same room, and Abby is doing all she can to manage it and make two of the most important alphas in her life like each other. Owen tries to convince Abby that alphas and omegas can't be friends - and it works. Abby stops spending too much time with Ellie, tricked into thinking that Ellie actually has feelings for her. Ellie lets it happen.
(Owen is so much more violent during ruts. Abby knew this too: alphas are ruthless in ruts, but she didn't expect being borderline assaulted. Again, she doesn't complain. She is in love, and Owen knows better.)
Abby keeps going to the gym, and in time her muscles grow and show more. Abby is happy - she put so much work into her body and it shows now! She is so much stronger now, and she doesn't mind that her waist is not so tiny anymore. Abby feels powerful.
Owen, however, gets grumpier with every pound of muscle on Abby's body: he doesn't like it. He doesn't support her when she shows how much progress she made.
Then he starts joking about it. He tells her it makes her look less like omega. That she is almost as big as he is. That people won't be able to tell who is the alpha in their relationship. Abby swallows everything and starts doing more cardio. She wants Owen to be happy. She wants to be his mate one day.
And then one day Abby catches Owen with another omega.
She is small and smells like coconut, she is everything Abby isn't.
Abby wants to die.
Abby calls Ellie for the first time in months, sobbing violently. Ellie picks her up and spends the night soothing Abby, and the next day beating the shit out of Owen. Yes, she is tiny, but alpha strength is alpha strength, and Ellie is furious.
Abby doesn't really recover from this. She thought Owen would be her first and her last, but now her dreams and her self-esteem are in ruins.
Abby blames herself for Owen's cheating. She blames herself for building her body, for not being omegy enough, for having a weak scent, for not being what he wanted. 
So Abby grows distant, believing she has no worth as an omega. She avoids alphas, she doesn't recognize when someone's interested. She doesn't let herself smell other people. The only alpha she still talks to is Ellie, because Ellie is Ellie. Her best goblin friend who doesn't even react to her heats, because she is so used to Abby.
(it actually breaks Abby's heart a little: is her scent so weak it doesn't affect alphas at all?)
Her younger brother, Lev, moves to the city for university when Abby is in her graduation year, and Abby puts her energy into taking care of him. She comes to his place from time to time, bringing food or snacks for him. They have movie nights as well. It makes Abby feel less alone. Less useless.
One day Lev asks her to come to the party with him: it's his first time going to a party and he has no idea what to do, especially since there'd be really cool people who are his seniors and he doesn't want to have an egg on his face. 
"Can you ask Ellie to come as well? Please? I need more cool people on my side."
Abby laughs and makes sure Ellie is going to come. Ellie adores Lev, so she agrees immediately.
This party is on another level, Abby thinks. It's not frat bros and awful alphas like it was when Abby went to parties with Owen. This party looks like all smart and successful people in the uni decided to get piss drunk, and it is as cool as it is hilarious. Abby knows some of them - she waves at Nora and hugs Manny when he sees her: they're only people Abby kept in contact with after breaking up with Owen. They stopped being friends with him the moment they found out what happened.
Lev is very nervous. He clings to Abby's arm and she laughs kindly.
"Hey, relax. You're supposed to have fun."
"Yeah, I know." Lev says, a little irritated, but it makes Abby and Ellie laugh again.
Ellie takes everything in her hands and comes back with three beers, opening them for Lev and Abby. Abby chuckles at her typical alpha behaviour, but doesn't tease her. They share a drink, and Lev is still nervous, so Ellie takes him to the dance floor and he finally relaxes next to his second favourite person and his first favourite alpha.
Or so Abby thinks.
She watches another person come to them, and by the way Ellie tenses Abby guesses it's an alpha. Abby tenses too: the protectiveness kicks in.
But the alpha smiles and hugs Lev like Abby does: like if this alpha was Lev's older sister. They talk for a bit and then Lev points in Abby's direction. The alpha nods and waves at Abby. She waves back, confused.
And then this alpha makes her way to Abby.
Abby is caught off guard: the alpha is hot. She is also friendly judging by the smile and the way she treated Lev, and Abby can’t decide how to behave around her. She is not bitter after what happened with Owen, but she is definitely out of practice of talking with hot alphas.
You watch Lev's sister's face go through a variety of emotions, and it makes you chuckle - you too would be confused. But you want to meet her and make sure she knows Lev is taken care of: he is under your wing. He is a sweet kid, shy one, and you know how nervous he is about everything, so you want him to have this safety net.
"Hi!" You say cheerfully and give your hand for a handshake. You try not to think of how beautiful Lev's sister is, how much her blue eyes hypnotise you. She is fucking adorable, that what she is. 
"Hi?" And her voice is soft too. You blink to clear your mind and tell her your name. You can’t smell her, but you’re pulled to her like a magnet.
"I'm Lev's student guide." Abby nods, not sure if she is okay with an alpha around her baby brother.
"I'm Abby, Lev's sister." You beam at Abby and she feels her stomach flutter. Abby quickly tries to kill the butterflies, but you seem so genuine. She can't smell you when there's so many people around, and maybe it's a good thing.
“Lev gave me your number as an emergency contact, and I just wanted you to know if an unknown number texts you that Lev is puking after doing beer pong, it will be me.” Abby can't help her chuckle: you do sound genuine. Abby feels like you really care about her brother and it makes her feel better. 
Lev and Ellie come back and Abby looks at how Lev's face lights up when you smile at him. Oh no. He has a crush on you. It breaks Abby’s heart: she sees how you treat him like a baby brother, and Abby knows Lev has no chance. She also thinks if she looked like this when she met Owen, all star-struck and hopeful. At least you look like a better person.
Abby also feels how tense Ellie is around you. Another alpha thing, but this one is annoying - Ellie’s protectiveness is borderline territorial, so Abby glares at her. Ellie glares back, but some of the tension goes away.
You ruffle Lev’s hair and ask him to enjoy the party and find you if they need anything. Ellie only fully relaxes when you’re lost in the crowd.
“She is the coolest.” Lev tells them and Ellie huffs. “She always helps me around. Saved my ass a few times as well.”
“Well, kid, I don’t want you to get hurt by her, okay?” Ellie says and Lev blushes. 
“Don’t worry, Ellie. I know nothing will happen.” Lev smiles. “She likes people on her level. Someone like you, Abby.”
Abby’s heart skips a beat in pain. There's no way an alpha like you would like an omega like her. 
Or if there is, then there's something wrong with you and you shouldn't be around her brother. 
“She doesn't seem too bad.” Ellie says almost through her teeth; she is as annoyed at her nature as Abby is, but she tries to have a clear head. “But if she hurts you, I'll kill her.” 
Abby would laugh, but the image of Owen's bloody face and a broken wrist don't let her. It's a good thing he didn't press charges, too humiliated to admit he got his ass kicked for cheating. 
Abby forgets about you until she is getting ready to sleep tonight. She puts her palm under her cheek, blissfully unaware, and takes a breath that is full of your scent. It shakes her, having an alpha scent on her, and Abby can't control herself.
Abby's cheeks burn, her heart picks up speed. Her cunt throbs. 
You smell amazing. It has an edge, like any other alpha’s scent, but it's not suffocating. Well no. It is, but it doesn't feel bad, it makes Abby bury her nose in her palm and take a deep sniff. It makes her feel safe. 
And Abby is terrified. She can't like your scent. It's dangerous, she can't risk herself like this, it's stupid. Lev has a crush on you, for god's sake! And even if she could, you'd never look her way. You're a good alpha and good alphas like pretty, small, sweet smelling omegas. Not Abby. 
She doesn’t know that she also left some of her scent on your palm. She doesn’t know you’ve been smelling it the whole night, addicted to the smell of fresh roses and memory of pretty blue eyes. She doesn't know that you struggle to control your eyes from changing to alpha red the whole time. 
You're ready to claw walls after meeting the prettiest omega of your life that you know is sweet and kind and smart: Lev really can't shut up about his sister. It's fucking eating you alive. 
And you have no idea when you'll meet her again, but then you remember that both of you are in the same university. So you start trying to figure out her schedule. You know she is a med student, so you take a chance at going to the library. 
And you're not wrong: Abby is there, looking miserable as she takes her notes. Your instincts kick in and you try to think of a way to make her feel better, but you get your shit together: it would be creepy. 
So you just walk over and ask to sit next to her. Abby is surprised, but she lets you anyway. 
It's awkward. You both are trying to not inhale too much, but the scents are respectively addictive: you smell her fresh roses and she smells your spice and safety. You want to bury yourself in her neck and mark her, scent her, make her yours, but you push these thoughts away.
“How's Lev doing?” Abby asks, not being able to concentrate anymore. It's even more embarrassing that you both smell of attraction, but it doesn't really mean anything: it was proven to be an instinct thing, therefore not reliable in human society. It just makes everything awkward for everyone.
“He is excellent, honestly. He got interested in charity work and I think he will soon be cleared to volunteer at animal shelters.” 
“Good. Thanks for looking after him. I don't want him to get hurt, you know?” Abby didn't mean to say this, but you catch the meaning of her words anyway. She can smell a faint hurt coming from you, but it's not big enough. 
“I'll do whatever I can to make sure he is safe.” You promise Abby and her attraction grows. You blink, but get back into conversation, trying to find more about Abby. 
Abby is.. reluctant. She is polite, but her answers are short, and you're not an idiot, you can take a hint, so you apologise for taking her time and go. 
Abby watches you go and gets filled with sorrow. You seem so sweet, and it scares her. She can't understand what is your angle and why are you bothered with her. She is sad because she wants you to be bothered with her. She wants you to like her; but Abby's brain doesn't even entertain the idea of it. Plus, Lev is crushing on you, it would be absolutely unfair of her to like you. 
The sour smell of sadness makes Ellie restless when she gets to the library half an hour later for their study session. She looks Abby over and tries to piece together what's wrong. 
“Did something happen?” 
Abby is also reluctant to tell Ellie, but she does it anyway. Ellie frowns the whole time, not pleased with another alpha upsetting her baby. Abby is quick to defend you and say that it's she who is the problem. Ellie kicks her under the table. 
“You are not a problem. It's Owen in your head again! Let go of this asshole. There are better alphas than him, fuck, any decent alpha is better than him. Don't assume shit.” Ellie tells her and Abby nods. 
Abby decides to try. Maybe at least she can make a friend. So the next time you see her in the library, she actually smiles at you. 
You swallow. Hard. Abby is gorgeous. 
So you sit next to her and surprisingly, the conversation flows so much better than the last time. You think she was just super busy back then.
Abby is so fucking oblivious it's not funny. She talks to you like she'd talk to Ellie: she doesn't believe your scent, convinced it's just nature and alphas are like this sometimes, so she is relaxed. You can be friends, she thinks. You're great and smell amazing, so you can be friends. 
You're almost salivating the whole time. Abby is cute as fuck, and she is hot as fuck: she takes her hoodie off and stays in a tight crop top, and you ogle at her arms and shoulders. She is incredible. 
“I know we've just met, but I can't leave without asking. Would you go on a date with me?” 
Abby's scent spikes in surprise, and then anxiety. An awful, sick smell that makes you back off. 
“Oh. Oh, I'm sorry.” You tell her, eager to get rid of this stench, to keep Abby calm and safe. 
“Are you sure?” Abby asks, not really believing her ears. 
“I mean, I really want to get to know you better.” You admit. 
“Lev has a crush on you.” Abby blurts and you laugh kindly. 
“I know. We talked about it with him. I don't let this stuff slide when it happens.” It makes Abby feel a little easier. “But if you're uncomfortable, I totally get it. I'd love to be your friend as well.” 
“...I need to talk to Lev first.” Abby admits, her cheeks feel hot. 
“Of course. Let me know then.” You smile sweetly, your scent is so full of attraction it's hard to find an excuse for it, so Abby just ignores it. 
She smells excited now and you beam. “You’re so pretty.” You blurt before you can stop yourself, but Abby starts to smell so sweetly and her cheeks are rosy now, you feel on cloud nine. 
“Thanks, I guess.” She says, shy, and you nod. You say your goodbyes and leave Abby to study. 
Abby thinks she's gone insane. Or you've gone insane. There's no way you actually asked her on a date. 
But Abby wants to go so much. She didn't admit it, but she was getting lonely, and then suddenly you came along and made her heart beat faster. 
So she gains courage and talks to Lev. He gets sad, but not the sour kind, the faint lavender of regret. 
“I told you she would like you.” Lev smiles and Abby hugs him, trying to comfort him. “She is good, I promise.” 
“I'm sorry, Lev.” 
“Don't be.” Lev chuckles and they spend the evening watching the movie. 
Next day you text Abby to find out if everything worked out and she gives you a positive. You grin like an idiot the whole day and plan the date.
You don't get all romantic on your first date, since you feel like Abby might get anxious, so you two just go to a bar and have a game of pool. 
It's perfect: you both are competitive, you get to see Abby bend down and you get to flirt a lot after a drink. Abby is wearing high waisted jeans and her bubble butt looks amazing in them. You don't know this, but Abby was desperate to make herself look more like an omega, and even if she couldn't hide her shoulders and biceps, she wanted to compensate for it, showing off her butt. 
Abby is oblivious to your hungry eyes when she takes a hit, but you're struggling. Abby is sweet and she smells so fucking good. You're itching to touch her, but you keep yourself in check. So instead you compliment her. A lot. 
Abby is flustered: no one ever talked to her like this. No alpha made it clear to her that they found her this attractive. But you keep your mouth running. “Your shirt looks so good on you.” “Sorry, I can't stop staring at your shoulders. They're very nice.”
Abby laughs at this one and feels more comfortable in her own skin. So she opens up. “My ex didn't like that I work out so much.” She chuckles, and you look at her in mock offence. It makes her laugh. 
“What a fucking idiot. Only cowards don't appreciate muscle mommies.” You scrunch your nose and Abby laughs harder. 
“God, what is this nickname?”
You get flustered and Abby feels all giddy. She didn't expect any alpha to get flustered, especially not because of her. “You know. When girls, especially omegas, build up a lot of muscles? People really dig it.” 
“Do you?” Abby asks, coy, and she sees the red flash in your eyes. It makes her press her thighs together. 
“Yeah. Yeah, I do.” You say and there's a hint of an alpha voice. Abby's chest is going to explode. 
You don't kiss Abby properly tonight, instead opting to kiss her hand: you like her, and you don't want to rush it. Abby gets flustered and you can't help the spike in your scent that makes Abby's cheeks red. 
(No, you don't get off on her scent when you come home.) 
(No, Abby doesn't fuck herself on her fingers when she comes home, burying her nose into her palm where she can catch your scent.) 
You both take it slow. You kiss her for the first time on your third date and Abby folds in your hands while you purr and knead her sides. 
Abby starts spending more time at your place, where you just cuddle and watch something. You start catching her scent all around your apartment, and it's driving you crazy. You want Abby to be yours so desperately, but you make yourself think with your head and not with your dick, so you don't rush.
You're in your class when you get a call from Lev. You don't pick up the first one, but when he calls for the second time, you walk out of the class and take the call. 
Lev is crying. 
Turns out his heat came during his class and now he is scared of going home on his own. Your instincts kick in and you grab your shit at a lighting speed before storming to Lev. You text Abby while you're running, and then your mind shifts into protective mode. 
It's hard being around an omega in heat: it's hard for the both of you. Lev clings to you while you wrap your arm around his shoulders and walk him from campus to his place. You know your eyes are red and you're low-key growling, but you keep comforting Lev. 
“It's okay. I'll get you home, and Abby is going to be here, okay? I'll keep you safe, don't worry. You're doing great, just a little more, can you walk a little more for me?”
Your voice soothes Lev and you make it to his place where Abby is already pacing in worry. 
She takes a look at you and her breath hitches. Your eyes are red and so hungry, Abby feels horny and sorry for you: she doesn't know how much willpower you need to keep your head straight when there's an omega in distress and in heat. 
You both get Lev inside his apartment and you retreat to the kitchen while Abby takes care of Lev. She fusses around, gives him pills and sends him to take a shower. You sit straight, your firsts tight as you watch your girlfriend being all motherly. This mixed with the smell of heat makes you feral. It gets harder to control, especially when Abby stands in front of you, her gorgeous scent in your nose. 
“How are you?” She asks, compassionately. And you grit your teeth. 
“Can you-” You start with a growl and you smell Abby's arousal. “Fuck. Can you come here?” You pat your lap.
The moment Abby sits down you grab her and bury your nose in her neck, your arms are tight around her back. Abby yelps when you press her closer and her scent spikes with arousal, making you growl. 
“I'm not- I'm not going to do anything. I just need a moment.” You growl and Abby swallows. Her arousal tickles your nose and you growl louder, pressing your nose closer to her scent glands.
Abby is so wet in her pants she is afraid she will leak on you, but she can't help it: you're usually so sweet, hiding your nature, and now you're acting so alpha-like, and it does things to her.
“Shit. We can't-” Abby's arousal gets mixed with anxiety and you want to sneeze to get it out of your nose. 
“We're not doing anything. Not like this. I just need a redirection.”  You take a deep inhale full of Abby's scent and you finally settle down. Your voice returns and you feel like you can control your eyes again. You ease your hold on Abby and the anxiety goes away. “Did I scare you?” 
Abby is baffled. It's such a big contrast to how Owen treated her before, she is lost for words. You're worried if you sniffing her scared her while Owen didn't care if he left bruises.
The air gets filled with the smell of fresh bakery - the scent of love and affection - and you almost tremble under Abby in excitement.
“A little. I was worried if you'd stop.”
“I have excellent self-control, baby.” You wink at Abby and she slaps your bicep.
She moves a certain way that makes her pelvis move against yours and you grunt: the scent of Abby's arousal got you half-hard already, and you're kinda sensitive now. 
Abby also feels it. She grows red and you giggle, kissing her cheek. 
“Lev is going to be out of the shower soon, I should go.”
“Okay.” Abby gets up from her seat on your lap and you pout. “Do you want-” Abby shakes her head. It's a stupid idea. 
“Do I want what?”
“Something with my scent?” 
You swallow and nod. Abby stands for a second, thinking, and then just takes her shirt off, letting you see her in a bra. You see her small tits covered by her lacy bra and adjust your pants. She is so fucking hot and this is so not the time, but your cock twitches and gets harder with every second while you stare at the most beautiful omega in your life. 
“You're a fucking menace.” You growl again and kiss Abby with hunger, the rumbling in your chest resonating in hers. Abby goes pliant and kisses you back. 
It takes you two tries to get away from her, but Abby is so delicious it's insane. 
You spend the evening in your apartment, getting off on Abby's shirt, fantasising about her going into heat and how you would take care of her and how good you would make her feel. 
You're together for a few months now when Abby's heat comes. You can smell it on her the day before, when she is all whiny and tired, sleeping for the bigger part of the movie on top of you. Her usual rose scent is getting stronger. 
“Are you close to your heat?” Abby hums in agreement and you swallow, staring at the ceiling. “Okay. I can smell it.” 
“Oh.” Abby is surprised. She doesn't have a very prominent scent so she didn't expect you to notice. “Oh I didn't think you'd smell it.”
“Your scent is my fucking heaven, of course I would.”
Abby blushes. Deeply. And you feel her press her thighs together. It makes your dick twitch. 
“I think it'll start tomorrow.” 
“Do you want me to be with you?” You ask innocently and Abby chuckles. “I mean, we haven't done anything yet and I understand if you want to wait and have normal sex first. Well, if you even want to have se-”
Abby cuts you off with a kiss and you relax. “We can try normal sex now.”
And you do. It's slow and sweet and you both laugh when you bump heads and knees and when you have to fumble around for lube since you're messy, but it's perfect. 
You're not aggressive, but you still growl and claw at Abby's soft thighs, and it's a perfect balance of care and pure animalistic want, and Abby feels wanted. She kinda wants to see your control break. 
And then you dip down between her thighs and Abby yelps and pushes your head away, shy. “You don't have to-”
“I really fucking want to. But if you don't want me to, it's okay. I won't.”
“I've never done it before.” Abby admits, embarrassed. She asked Owen to do it once but he looked weirded out by her ask, so Abby felt ashamed to ask again. You stare at her in shock - a good-natured one - and Abby hides her face. 
You slow down and get on her level again, gently moving her hand away. “Hey, it's cool. I didn't mean to belittle you, I just- you're so pretty and so gorgeous, who wouldn't want to go down on you?” Abby looks at you, so deeply touched by your care she feels her eyes water. She smells of love again and you giggle, burying your nose in her neck. “We don't have to do it.”
“I kinda wanna try.” Abby murmurs, smiling, and you beam at her. 
“I'll go slow, okay? Tell me what feels good and what's not, yeah?”
That's how Abby ends up being eaten out for the first time. She loves the feeling of your mouth on her and how your fingers curl inside her. She loves how your eyes gradually become alpha red the closer she is to cumming. 
She comes down from her high and looks at you, half naked and red-eyed, like a predator you're meant to be, and her cunt throbs. 
Abby rides you until you're a grunting mess under her as she massages your tits and clenches around you. You growl, but you don't grab her or hurt her, just let her have fun, and Abby is so fucking happy. 
“I can't wait to spend my heat with you.” Abby moans and you cum immediately, filling her up. 
This time Abby gets to feel safe and taken care of during her heat as you attend her every whim, every request, from “cum inside me” to “I really want some chocolate ice-cream”. You do everything, and Abby can't be happier. She texts Ellie as much when you're out to get her ice-cream and Ellie just sends vomiting emojis. 
Of course then she tells Abby she is happy for her and that she is going to be a best woman at your wedding. 
Abby doesn't want to admit, it scares her, but she wants to be your mate one day. 
You come back not only with chocolate ice-cream, but with some junk food as well. Abby can't help but to drop to her knees right in the hallway. 
You also help Abby recover after the heat, bringing her snacks and letting her nap every chance you can, and Abby knows she is in love with you. She doesn't even need to tell you: she constantly smells of love and lust around you now, but she decides to do it anyway.
You're balls deep in her while she pinches your nipples and nibbles at your scent glands, making you whimper in her ear. “Fuck, you feel so good around me.”
“I love you.” Abby says sweetly and you shudder on top of her, and Abby feels how your cock twitches when you cum. Abby feels your fangs scraping her scent glands and she cums too, milking you. 
“Fuck, baby, shit! I love you too, I love you so fucking much, shit-” You pant and Abby grins. 
Abby likes making a mess out of you. 
For some insane reason, Abby's excited for your rut. She didn't like spending ruts with Owen, but you're so gentle and patient, Abby is sure she'll be okay. 
Your rut comes after a month after Abby's heat. Abby likes how possessive you get in pre-rut, even though you start growling at Ellie, which doesn't end well with Ellie's explosive temper. You get along well any other time, but the constant stare down irritates Ellie to the point when she tells Abby, “go fuck the crazy out of your alpha, she is so fucking annoying. Yeah, you.” Ellie stares at you while you tug Abby closer on your lap, scenting her. “Oh my god, get a fucking room. I know Abby is like, your Jesus or whatever, but it's too much.”
Abby just giggles and enjoys how your growling changes to purring. Abby turns to you and cradles your face. “My alpha.” She murmurs and Ellie groans.
“I fucking hate you guys.”
“Not our fault you fell in love with another alpha, Ellie.” You chuckle. 
“Fuck off.” She growls and two if you laugh. 
Abby stays at your place and you get to fall asleep with her in your arms.
On the next day you wake up with a heavy head. You're already hard and Abby is right there, soft and sleeping. You think about how her wet hot pussy feels around your cock and your pheromones spike up so high Abby wakes up. 
She can tell right away that you're in rut. Your scent is suffocating. It's not soft, safe suffocating scent that Abby likes, it's the one that gets stuck in her nose and makes her cunt clench around nothing. She wants nothing more than to get on her fours and present herself for you - this is how much power you have over her. 
“My rut-”
“Yes, I-”
“If you don't want to be here, I think I can hold off for 10 minutes and let you leave.” You growl and it only turns Abby on. 
So she does what she wants - she gets on her knees, her cunt right in front of your face, and arches her back. 
“Knot me, baby.”��
All your restraints break. You're rough and you make Abby take everything: if she is not cumming on your cock, she is cumming on your fingers as you fuck your cum back into her, or she is sitting on your face. Abby struggles to keep up with you, since she is not in heat, but she can't wait to take your knot, and she tells you as much. You growl and fuck her harder, feeling your release building up. Abby is so pretty under you, covered in marks, her tits red from your mouth. She spreads her legs and you pin her thighs by her sides, watching your cock disappear in her pretty little pussy. You finally push your knot into Abby and she whimpers, tries to adjust to your size, but you rub her clit and she clamps on you.
“Mine. My omega. My girl.” You growl loudly while Abby clenches around your knot, thrashing on the bed. It's too much pleasure and she knows you're far from done.
And Abby is right. You make her cum on your knot four other times, and only after she makes you cum again - which means she cums st least three times more - you give her a break. You're still sweet, but now it's possessive sweetness. You don't let her do anything, bathing and feeding her, but she is so exhausted she doesn't even notice. 
“I wanna nap.” Abby tells you when she is snuggled against your chest. It's a small break before you would get horny again. 
“You should. You did so well.” Abby giggles and nuzzles your neck. 
“Don't wait if you get horny again. It would be a nice way to wake up.”
“I fucking love you.”
“You better. You're my alpha. It's a requirement.”
“You call me your alpha again and you're not napping, babe. Go the fuck to sleep.” You kiss her forehead and Abby laughs.
Abby doesn't know if it's luck or destiny, but this time she is sure: you are the one for her.
(and she is right.)
343 notes · View notes
whetstonefires · 1 year
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I am a bit surprised at your tags saying you like jar jar, I don't really know anybody who's a fan in 2023. What's the appeal there, would you say?
Did people like JarJar more in the past? I remember when the prequels were new, his poor actor almost died from the harassment. Surely the venom against JarJar has only weakened.
But mmmmm...I guess what I enjoy about JarJar is he just. He sucks so bad. Nobody has any use for him. He's not just bad at emergencies and space and knowing you have to pay for food, he's not even good at Gungan-ing.
But he's just kinda allowed to be like that. He's there. The other protagonists are varying levels of Ugh Why but they don't try to solve him. He gets Recognition From His People at the end of TPM and fails his way upward in galactic politics and has good intentions and tries sincerely and fucks up so so bad, and is dumb as hell.
He doesn't get punished by the story for being a loser. He's allowed.
That's what made so many people so mad at him back when, and I do get it because any scene he's in is hard to take seriously, he's walking bathos, he's like Original Swamp Yoda without the redeeming kung fu drama. But also wow yikes no.
Let me sit with this a bit and let me see if I can turn this vibe into words better.
Like @husborth was totally correct in saying the whole Gungan plotline was a waste of screentime, a fun little excuse plot allowed to run riot due to unchecked directorial hubris, and contributed to the prequel films being atrociously paced pieces of cinema. But (somewhat consequently) there's something luxurious about JarJar Binks being allowed to go around existing so much, something I think is prototypical of the whole prequel tone and its contrast to the snappy war-film energy of the original trilogy in a way that...really works to create the atmospheric contrast between life in the Republic and life under the Empire.
The Republic was a bloated ancient mess of a government riddled with corruptions, and badly out-of-whack power balances and decayed support nets that weren't technically corruption but weren't working well either, and inefficiency.
And also what the fascists like to call decadence. You know?
Like one of the consequences of having a tolerant diverse society is that even when poorly run and afflicted with capitalism it is going to be full of fantastically annoying weirdos who don't have anything better to do than embarrass people by talking, and there's nothing to be done about that that morally can be. You can't Force Choke people for annoying and have a free society. We all gotta make our peace with the fact that JarJar Binks has every right to exist.
Not that JarJar Binks is necessary to any specific piece of media. I am not advocating for annoying gag sidekicks in general. But I am saying that JarJar Binks is metaphorically inevitable, whenever people are allowed to just kinda be.
So his presence on some level feels political to me, inasmuch as Star Wars are actually political films at all, which isn't very much. But definitely not none either!
Also I am old enough to have grown less susceptible to secondhand embarrassment so I am able to forgive JarJar his cringe. He can still be a little painful to watch! But I do like that he's there.
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wonderlandwalker · 5 months
Text
Trying to Forget | Finnick Odair x Reader
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THG Masterlist / Taglist / Inbox
Summary: Part 2 of Remember. Finnick is trying to make peace with simply being your friend, because he thinks that is better than not getting to see you at all, but he might be proven painfully wrong. Find part 3 here
Content Warnings/Tags: Memory loss, insinuations of smut, angst, foreshadowing
Word Count: 1.3k
A/N: I have seen all your requests so here it is, part 2 of Remember. Happy ending is unfortunately not part of my vocabulary so this will have to do. I want to write more as a continuation of this but I have a big exam coming up so unless someone wants to take that for me I might have to take a break for a little bit
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He still wasn't used to it, to see you there, to see you sitting next to your friends and how he had to join them as if that’s all he was, a friend. And don't get him wrong, he was glad you were there, he was thankful they had found you, but it hurt too.
You spend your days as if nothing was wrong, and he supposes to you there wasn't. He had to hold himself back from falling to your feet and praying to the gods to give you back to him. And he didn't understand what he had done wrong to deserve this punishment. He knows he has made mistakes in his life, but surely the cruelty of his current situation could not be matched by any and all of his past. When you look at him with those eyes full of excitement he wants to kiss you and make you remember, but it would only push you further away. So he pretends, he pretends he’s okay with the way things are, that he is okay with being a friend. 
He tries to let go, he really does. He tries to separate you from his love for you. He tries to remember not to hug you from behind when he walks into a room, but every time he remembers a piece of him withers away. 
And he doesn't know how to deal with this, because whenever he was upset, he would go to you. He would talk to you, or lay down next to you, and your presence would assure him he’d get through it, it would show him what he was doing it all for. But your presence isn't assuring anymore, it's shattering.
So he’s stopped touching you, he’s stopped looking at you like you’re about to remember him again, he’s stopped showing you affection. But he doesn't know what to do with himself, he’s spent as long as he can remember loving you, and he doesn't know where to channel this hole that is threatening to swallow him. So he makes sure you have everything he knows will light up your days, even if you don’t remember, he’ll remember for you. He makes sure they don't run out of blueberry jam because he remembers the time you told him it made the perfect breakfast with yoghurt. And whenever he does, you always look so surprised, asking him how they possibly could have known, but the real question is how he could possibly ever forget. 
Yes, he’ll remember for you. He’ll remember how you get cold at night after a long day, and he convinces someone to stack an extra blanket on your bed. And you might think it’s a coincidence every time, but he’ll never let coincidence make a turn for the worse. 
He sees when you go to visit the doctor, but he doesn't know what is going on anymore, because he isn't your boyfriend anymore. He’s asking people, bribing people to tell him, but it rarely works, because it’s confidential, and he no longer holds the privilege to your heart. 
There’s a small party tonight, and he knows you’ll be there. He knows because you’ve become close to Johanna, you laugh with her and you spend your days with her. And he’s glad that you’ve found someone you can talk to, but he still wished it had been him. In a way, it’s a small victory, because Johanna has taken pity on him. In any other situation, he’d tell her he didn't need it, he didn't need anyone's sorrow to comfort him, but he’d just be lying to himself and she knows it too. In any other situation he would have shut down on himself, he would have locked himself in his room and not come out. But you’re still here, haunting him like a ghost from a comforting dream he once had, so he goes on as usual, but it might be worse this way. 
Yet he still takes every crumb he can find, and so here he is. He’s standing around talking as if everything isn't so very, very wrong. He sees you walk in, and he wants to look away, because he doesn't want to make you uncomfortable, but he just can't. He remembers the dress you’re wearing, and if you had too he would have called you cruel for it. But he knows you don't, he knows it's just him basking in the memory of your skin against his, and that you probably don’t even remember what he feels like anymore.
He recalls the memory as clear as day, but if someone has been repeating them in their head like he had been, there wouldn't be any other option. You’re wearing the dress you wore on your anniversary last year. He had seen you wearing it and insisted on staying in, but you just laughed at him and called him silly for the idea, he didn't think it had been silly. He thought that if you had let him, he would have cancelled everything he had spent weeks planning. Because truly, all he really needed was you. You had shown him the dress and asked him how you looked. He had said you looked good enough to eat, and he was ready to prove his point to you over and over until the sun went down and took his vision of you with it, and even then he would have gladly continued.
But this time he doesn't get to, he sees you walk in with Johanna by your side, and he honestly doesn't know if this was intentional, but the grin she gets when she sees him watching tells him it isn't purely coincidental. Johanna had taken pity on him, but she was testing him as payment. 
All he wants to do is walk over to you, take your hand and kiss the soft base of your palm as you start to giggle nervously. He wants to, but he can’t. He can’t because this time you won't grace his ears with laughter, you’d just pull away. And he tries not to think of the way he wants to trail his fingers from your silk hair to the top of your dress. He tries to distract himself from the urge to kiss you while he drags the zipper down your back. He tries not to remember the way you used to moan his name as he traced a path up your thighs with his lips. 
He wants to forget, he wants to forget so he can find peace again. With all of his might he tries to forget, as if that will make everything more bearable. But in reality, if he did forget, he didn't think he would ever forgive himself.
He tears his eyes away from you and starts to leave before you can meet them, and if he hadn't, if he had given into his wish to keep getting lost in the vision that you were to him, he might have seen the smallest spark of memory flash through your eyes. He might have seen you walk his way to greet him with a new sense of sentiment, trying to nourish the bubbles that had surfaced after the storm. But he never gets the chance, because he has convinced himself keeping his hopes up was futile, he had resigned himself so much to a life of admiring you from a distance that he didn't even consider it might not be forever, that even the cruellest of circumstances can't keep two people destined for each other apart. But if he wasn't careful, the scissors of the fates might take it from him once more before he got the chance to see it.
Part 3: The Will of the Moirai
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barleyo · 6 days
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Rural Bliss.
Real Dad! Leon X F! Reader (smut)
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A/N: You, as a reader, are responsible for your own media consumption. It is up to you to read the tags that I have provided and determine whether or not this is a piece of writing that you would like to partake in. If not, scroll on by, if you do, please enjoy! Remember, I am not responsible for any discomfort you feel if you choose to read this.
Tags: incest (daddy-daughter), dub-con, oral (f receiving), LARGE AGE GAP (18 and 40+), pwp (light plot), mentions of predatory behavior, mutual creepiness, dark and disturbing content, choppy ass writing
Wordcount: 1.8k
!!! DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT/DARK CONTENT !!!
Your mom had finally done it. She found a halfway decent guy and let him wife her up faster than you could say 'I do.' You weren't exactly mad about it. He was a decent enough guy, and he made your mom happy, so whatever. The only part that you were against was the fact that you would be staying with your estranged father for the rest of your summer until your mom and her boy-toy got back from their extensive honeymoon.
Your dad fucked off pretty quickly after you were born. Moved himself far away into the middle of nowhere, not once reaching out or keeping in touch. A small part of you wanted to know him, but a larger part of you was pissed that you would have to now temporarily live with a man who you could just barely remember the name of. 
What was it again? Leonard? Lucas? No, no, that's not right. Leon? Yeah, something like that. Leon. 
Leon, the man who left you and your mom. The man who, instead of raising you, decided to lick his wounds in the deep country, likely making a meager living off of growing potatoes and carrots. The man who was a stranger, connected to you only by blood. 
The man whose front porch you were currently standing on, banging on his door without a care in the world. You looked around while you knocked. It was a large bit of land. A few neighbors nearby, but not within spitting distance. At the very least, this town had a few stores with maybe a few people your age lingering around them. 
"I'm coming, damn it!" His steps were loud, you could hear them from all the way outside. The heaviness of his work boots must've weighed him down quite a bit. The screen door flew open and his face softened. "Oh, hey kid. Didn't know you'd be here so early. Come in." 
You followed him inside, letting your eyes trail his face and frame. You'd only seen a picture or two of him before. He wasn't quite what you were expecting. He looked a lot older now than he did in the photos. More tired, less lively. His crow's feet and smile lines stuck out, but if the lonely, uncomfortable vibe of his house was any clue, you assumed he hadn't been smiling much in his life. 
He wasn't bad looking, though. Time hasn't weathered him, and you could tell he took care of himself. His arms and chest looked strong, clearly he had found some way to stay fit out in his desolate chunk of farmer-country. You could see why your mom picked him. He looked like a good one, despite his fleeting nature. 
"You're gonna be stayin' for a few months, yeah?" Leon didn't seem uncomfortable with your presence, so you felt a bit more calm.
"Yeah, I guess so. Mom didn't really give me all the details, just kinda sprung it on me."
"Believe me, I know," he said under his breath. "Well, this place isn't much, 'm sure it's not what you're used to." He locked the door behind you and flashed an apologetic look. 
"It's fine. I'll make it work." You looked around. It looked lived in, strangely worn despite nobody else ever living there.
He led you down a dimly lit hallway, the floorboards groaning beneath their weight, until they reached a single room. It was a small bedroom, adorned with faded wallpaper and completely wooden furniture. The single window offered a glimpse of the bare, green landscape outside. 
"This'll be your room. You can unpack your things."
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Hardly a week passed by and you were already sick to death of living with your dad. His jokes were bad. His cooking was shit. His attempts at bonding with you were creepy at best and damn near-assault at worst. He let his hands drift all over you when he pulled you in for hugs and tried pecking a kiss on your mouth before you went off to bed each night, and damn it, you let him.
Again and again, every night, letting that old man press his chapped lips against yours, holding back your urge to force your tongue into his mouth.
He bought you gifts that no other fathers would think about getting their daughters. Skimpy little clothes that left nothing to the imagination, while he wrote it off by claiming ignorance.
"That's what girls your age wear, right? I can't keep up with what you kids are into," Leon would say, covering his ass with feigned dopiness. 
His only redeeming quality was that he was hot and mostly oblivious. It was fucked up to think about it that way, but without having much other male contact during your stay, Leon was starting to becoming quite the piece of eye candy. The best part is that he thought nothing of it, acting like his teenaged daughter spending hours staring at his half-naked, sweaty body while he worked in the hot sun was normal. Just another day. Nothing special. 
He didn't make you work on the farm with him, so you got to do all the watching. You got to see those strong arms lift hay bales for the horses and chop trees for firewood. Most of your days were spent watching him from the front porch, mentally cursing yourself out when you felt your thighs clench together instinctually at his sexy movements. 
What was wrong with you? 
Were years of fatherlessness finally catching up to you? Couldn't muster any real love for the old man, so sexual yearning was the next best thing? Eye-fucking your dad and sharing touches that lasted too long were the cost of him skipping out on you.
You rationalized it the best you could. Maybe you didn't actually want him, maybe the solitude of the countryside was getting to you. Maybe there was something in the air, some kind of sex-pollen floating in the breeze that made you wanna get bent over by a man twice your age that just so happened to be related to you. Closely related.
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Leon didn't really know how to treat a woman well, but he tried his best with you. It was his first time really being a dad, but honestly, he hated it. Being a 'dad' sucked, especially when he'd rather have his daughter as his girlfriend. 
You made him so frustrated, so unsure of himself. Leon's only experience with girl's your age was in getting them liquor they couldn't legally buy themselves, fucking them like plastic sex dolls, and leaving them for someone else to woo and screw. 
He couldn't quite do that to you, though. He couldn't get you drunk and take advantage of you, pumping and dumping in you without a care about your pleasure. He had to take care of you, your health and comfort. All he really wanted was to take care of your body.
You were his little girl. He'd fuck you like he actually gave a damn about you if he ever got the chance, and he most definitely wouldn't be leaving you for anyone else.
That type of thinking brought him here. 
"Daddy, please..."
The walls in his house were too damn thin. He could practically hear each thrust of your fingers into your cunt from his bedroom. Your bed screeched agonizingly against the floors, punctuating your moans and hisses of pleasure. 
He saw his opportunity and took it. He had waited long enough, and this was the least he could do, right? You needed him, right? Right.
He pushed your door open, not having the decency nor the self-restraint to knock. You felt your body go still, but kept your hands between your legs. 
"If you needed me, coulda told me. Don't like t'hear you in here whining." Leon sat on the edge of your bed, crawling his way between your legs. "Fuck, that's pretty." 
He took in the sight of your fingers stuffed into your pudgy cunt, slick dripping between each digit. 
"No, you're—! this isn't what it—" you tried prying your fingers out, but a strong hand wrapped around your wrist to keep you in place.
"Isn't what it looks like? How about what it sounds like, huh? Sounds like you want your daddy to dull that ache in you." 
He was so far gone. He normally never did this. Leon was a man who took. He took younger girls virginity, mouth, pussy, or other. He was the one that got sucked off and got his perv dick wet. But for his baby? You, the little nymph who fell gracefully into his grasp? He was foaming at the mouth for a chance to slurp your pussy.
"Open up, come on. Got nothin' to be shy about," he urged, forcing your legs open, pulling your fingers out, and shimmying closer to you. "Nothin' I haven't seen before."
That was somewhat of a lie. Sure, he saw pussies all the time when he bullied his cock into them, but he was normally never nose to clit, ready to lick.
He stuck his needy tongue out, lapping up the juices that you worked up when you rubbed yourself raw. He swirled around you clit as a test, trying to see what felt good for you. He soon settled on puckering his lips around your bud and sucking, swapping his spit in and out of his mouth to keep you lubed up. 
Your voice broke with hushed whines and chants. Yes's and oh's rang out, filling Leon's ears and his ego. 
He pulled his head back and lob a wad of spit onto your clit, chuckling when you shivered. 
"Feel good?" His thumb traced your clit in little figure eights. 
"Mm, s'good." Your hands trailed through his thick, soft hair. You gripped it tightly, pulling his head back to your cunt. "No, don't stop, jus' need your mouth again."
His sharp, strong nose bumped against the top of your pussy while he munched down on you greedily. His tongue traveled around you in an indecisive manner. One moment, he was using flat strokes to lick on your swollen nub, then pointing his tongue while he fucked it in and out of you. 
Despite the sporadic nature of it, the warmth and wetness of the contact of his mouth on you felt like heaven. It didn't matter what he was doing, as long as he was looking up at you with his piercing eyes and swallowing down your slick, you were satisfied.
"Dad, oh my God, yes!" It felt like venom coming off of your tongue when you moaned it, but tasted like honey at the same time. Something about it was so wrong, but felt so natural.
As your legs tightened around Leon's head and trapped him between your thighs, you knew it was meant to be. You were meant to be your daddy's princess. You were meant to feel like mouth on you, to be spoiled by his tongue, words, money, and his cock. You had been missing out on it for so long. 
You spent the rest of your summer making up for lost time, discovering just what having a daddy was meant to feel like.
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justporo · 6 months
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Headcanons for Astarion and Tav spending winter time
Aight, writing for the fluff challenge has me thinking about this a lot, so why not exploit it some more, eh? Some of these are/will be used in the drabbles plus more stuff. So, here we go:
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Does Astarion like winter? For sure not, this vampire is made for summer time, elegant summer clothing and also... a beautiful summer tunic on his partner is just so much more beautiful than all the winter clothes (and easier to take off, he has a point there)
You can convince him though that winter time has its perks because there's so much more cuddling and who really wants to get out of bed when it's that cold outside, right?
Astarion will however use every given opportunity to make a fashion statement - expect beautiful but dramatic, winter cloaks with fur, elegant gloves, winter tunics with beautiful embroidery (although he might enjoy just throwing on a sweater at home - especially if you had it stolen before and your scent still lingers on it)
Also winter festivities were mostly hurtful reminders this far, but now? With you by his side, he will enjoy them a lot more
Also: let's not forget that it may be cold outside but the nights are much longer and give you more opportunity to be out and about
He sneakily hangs up a mistletoe somewhere in your place and waits like a predator to assault you with kisses every time you catches you under it; "Astarion! This is the tenth time today! You know you can just ask me for a kiss, don't you?" "But darling, where would be the fun in simply asking? Isn't it so much more romantic when pure chance makes us meet here under the mistletoe time and again, my love?" "It's not chance when you keep lingering under it, Astarion!"
He enjoys decorations a lot more than he'd care to admit, he enjoys when your place smells of fresh pine from wreaths and other stuff you've put up and he likes the cosy atmosphere all the spread candles are creating for the two of you cuddling up while a snowstorm howls outside
Speaking of: expect Astarion to become the embodiment of a cuddly cat during winter time; he'll snuggle up with you under some blankets, in front of the fireplace, maybe with a nice book to read and a mug of mulled wine to enjoy
Astarion will also make sure you stay appropriately warm: no matter if he buys you a wooly sweater or makes you a nice coat himself; "My love, I'm cold enough for the two of us, you don't need to take on this quality of mine."
One more thing he absolutely loaths is: snow; he doesn't get it
Sadly you also can't change his mind by throwing snowballs at him - oh no! This will only cause him to show you that his rogue skills make for very good aiming and you'll soon both just be completely frozen; but it's worth it because you could swear you heard him laugh and see him smile despite him proclaiming this all childish
Once he figures you are very much into all of this, he puts some more effort into it - he wants to see you happy; every time Astarion goes into the city and walks across the winter market, he'll bring you something: maybe something sweet, maybe a small piece of decoration - you feel very appreciated, you just hope he paid for that stuff and didn't just steal it; Astarion is elusive on the matter
The most important thing for him though is that he gets to spend winter time together with you - with all the gifts and challenges it may bring
Tag list: @spacebarbarianweird @sunfire-ancunin @tragedybunny @dependsonthedream @tallymonster @magazzne @micropoe10 @aoirohi @my-bunny-prince @lumienyx @fayeriess @azukiel @darlingxdragon
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Being Chosen...By A Baby
Lt. Simon "Ghost" Riley x F! Single Mom (COD MW(2/3))
Warning: Fluffy stuff, Baby Fever, MAJOR BABY FEVER
Summary: Simon Riley isn't too particular about babies, until he meets yours.
Word Count: ~1,670 words
Master List | Tag List Request (Tag List At The Bottom)
A/N: I loved writing this, it's been on my mind for a while. I didn't like the ending because I didn't know how to end it lol
Edit: Pronouns and names were all over the place but it should be fixed lmao thanks for letting me know
Imagine being chosen by someone. Someone intentionally looking at you and thinking - contemplating, deciding - and choosing to pick you. It’s as simple as picking you to ask for directions, ordering a cup of coffee, and begging to touch your skin.
But it’s something special when someone as small as a little child is looking at you and choosing you. No one knows what goes on in their mind, behind those curious eyes, those rosy and chubby cheeks, that little button nose, that babbling little mouth with teeth fighting to make way. No one knows what those cute little chubby cherubs think when they decide to reach out to grab anything and everything in sight.
The grip of a child is mightier than anyone Lieutenant Simon Riley has ever seen.
Lieutenant Simon Riley - the infamous Ghost. He’s not supposed to exist. The enigma.
Yet… out of anyone who could have found him and had a mighty grip on his gray fleece jacket was your little chunky cherub made of a can of Pillsbury crescent rolls, looking at him with big curious eyes, absorbing information like a sponge. Your little infant son of nine months old, sitting comfortably in a little wrap carrier so that he can comfortably lay against your chest, he has seen Simon and reached out and grabbed a little handful of his gray fleece jacket with no intention of letting go.
It was a quick day for you so you didn’t need the baby carriage today, the wrap keeping your son against your chest would suffice, you liked having your baby against your chest anyways. In the city, it was easy to get around by walking and public transport, but you needed something in the next town over so you had to take the train. The platform for the train was nearly empty, you were early, so you had some time to yourself and your little boy giggling and babbling away, occasionally wiping his nose and talking to him about the plans for the day.
Slowly but surely, people started to pile in as the time went on, the train would be arriving soon.
Even a ghost needs a place to stay, right. On the occasion that he is home, he tends to stay out of his home, usually to replace food that had spoiled while he was gone. Simon arrived at the train station and waited on the platform. It wasn’t too cold, but chilly enough to wear his gray fleece jacket.
It was nice and quiet until more people started to pile up onto the train station. Usually he didn’t mind until people started to get into his personal space, which rarely happened anyways. Even in more civilian clothes, in a place where people barely recognize him, despite him living there, people tend to stay away from people who look mysterious.
As more people pile into the station, he slowly moves towards the center of the station. Huffing slightly to himself, he glances slightly at the giant clock. The train would be arriving soon. As he waited, he’d hear bits and pieces of conversations from people about their lives.
He didn’t mind it, he felt more human.
After a while, he heard something he didn’t hear often.
An animal?
No.
A baby.
The baby seemed to continue to babble, getting louder as he moved again. For some reason it made him curious. It’s not that he wasn’t fond of children, his childhood was pretty fucked up, but a child was an innocent being in this cruel world. Sometimes he wondered what he’d be like if he’d spent more time around children - or what things would be like if he had children.
But that’s just a random thought in his mind. A man like Lieutenant Simon Riley - with the sins and atrocities he’s been through and committed, he has no business having children. He is the one mothers tell their children to stay away from. He is the boogeyman underneath a child’s bed.
Hearing the babbling again, he instinctively turns his head and looks around for a moment, then looks down, seeing the source of this little creature.
An infant child, probably no more than 9 months old, a drool covered fist in his mouth, the other arm flailing in every direction. And you, holding your child wrapped in a long cloth and tied around your waist, Simon couldn’t figure out how you held the chunky child on your chest with just a scarf. 
You were on the phone with someone talking about baby related things. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you and your baby. Such a mundane sight. A mother and her child. He glanced at your hand caressing your child’s chubby and rosy cheeks. No ring. Single mom? No wait, that’s rude. 
Cracking a small smile at the sight, he looked at the child for a moment, finding amusement in how you tried to sooth your child as you talked on the phone, swaying your hips slightly. You kept your eyes on your little cherub the entire time, playing with your son’s cheeks, making him giggle and smile, occasionally acknowledging him, calling him your honey bun.
Then you got caught up with your conversation and looked away. Your child looked around for a moment, content and happy. Simon didn’t know what he found so amusing and intriguing about this child. When he thought about children, he thought of crying little messes, unruly children, little rascals who were nothing but trouble.
This little dough-boy? He had an urge to just poke his little rosy cheeks. You were holding your son, Simon practically stood right next to you but he couldn’t tell you what you were talking about. Your little cherub had dampened his senses.
More people started to fill the train station. The train would soon arrive. Simon was practically next to you. At this point, he didn’t mind being next to you and your baby. As more people surrounded the three of you, you glanced up at Simon and smiled sheepishly and mouthed ‘Sorry’ in an attempt to apologize in case she’d bumped into him. Simon saw as you wrapped your free arm tighter around your baby that was tightly wrapped against your chest.
It’s ok. You’re fine. He didn’t even know you, but he didn’t want anything to happen to you or your baby. 
He knew the train would be arriving soon so he looked up at the time and looked to see if the train would be coming soon. Staring was rude. He had manners.
Not even a moment passed after he looked away did he feel a slight tug on his arm. Suddenly aware of his surroundings he looked down again. Your little munchkin demanded attention from the behemoth of a man named Simon. You were still on the phone, looking away.
Simon smiled at the sight and sighed in relief. You little rascal. Their eyes met, for such a cute little thing, your son looked at Simon intently, studying him. Simon was wondering what he was thinking. The little hand that had such a strong grip on his fleece jacket tugged at him to come closer.
“Curious little thing, aren’t you?” Simon said, using his other hand to wave at your child, making him smile slightly and let out a gleeful sound.
You turned your head at the sound and laughed at the sound of your son laughing, then blushed when you realized he was pulling on Simon’s sleeve. She quickly said her good-bye on the phone and hung up, then looked up at Simon, smiling sheepishly.
“I-I’m sorry, sir-” You gently pulled on your baby’s arm to try and get him to let go of his arm.
Simon let out a small chuckle as he waited patiently, smiling at the sight, “It’s fine. He’s got a mighty grip, alright.”
You chuckled as your child started babbling at Simon, as if he could be understood, refusing to let go despite your attempt to make him unhand Simon, “Once they got you, they don’t want to let go.”
You glanced up at Simon, seeing a small smile on the man. He reached up also with his free hand and gently held the child’s wrist, “I ain’t going anywhere, you can let go of me now. I think we’re going on the same train.”
Your child finally let go but continued to try and reach out for Simon, instantly taking a liking to him. You sighed as you looked up at Simon, the train finally approaching, “I’m sorry again, sir-”
“It’s fine, really. You’ve got a cute one.” Simon smiled at you and your child, who was still mesmerized by him.
You smiled up at him in return, glancing down at your son, then back up at Simon, “Haha yeah, he is something.”
Once the train doors opened, people quickly exited the train as quickly as people entered.
“This is my train-” You looked up at him and then toward the train, then attempted to walk forward. But people rushed around them. You kept your arms around your child and Simon felt the need to stay close, this way people would actually walk around you as you and Simon stepped into the train. 
Once inside, you found a seat and sighed as you sat down. The seats filled up quickly and Simon ended up sitting opposite of you and your baby.
Smiling awkwardly at each other, you apologized again for your son grabbing onto him.
“It’s fine, really. I like his determination.” Simon looked at him as you turned slightly so Simon could see her son’s face, who smiled when he saw Simon again. “What’s his name?”
“Joseph. But I think he likes being called Joey.” You said as she caressed little Joey’s cheek as he cooed at Simon.
Simon gave her and Joey a genuine smile this time. Joseph… Tommy’s son…
“I’m Simon, what’s your name?” He looked up at her.
“Y/N. It’s nice to meet you, Simon.”
Tag List:
@ateliefloresdaprimavera @galagcica @sweetybuzz25 @wisedinosaurpolice @itsasecrets-things @ronbon @lieutenantlashfaz @piper570 @shuttlelauncher81 @thanksbutno98 @gabriellathegreat @kult6 @loadedberetta @sarahs-secrets2 @whore4dilfs @addy3114 @ollie71526483 @blueoorchid
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candysims4 · 9 months
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SWEET TOOTH SET
Oh my gosh, I am so excited about this new set and finally releasing it! I seriously can't get enough of these pieces - they're just so cute! Every little detail is lovely, from the bow in the hair to the hearts on the nails.
AS IT’S TOO MUCH TEXT, I’LL LEAVE THE DESCRIPTION OF EACH ITEM PLUS THE CREATOR’S NOTES BELOW THE CUT.
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ALL ITEMS ARE:
TEEN TO ELDER
BASE GAME COMPATIBLE
MADE FOR FEMALE FRAME
DISALLOWED FOR RANDOM
360º GIF & THUMBNAILS (HOSTED IN IMGUR)
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MY SITE (NO AD.FLY): BONBON HAIR | APPLE PIE NAILS (TWO VERSIONS) | BISCUITS EARRINGS | CHERRY TART DRESS (TWO VERSIONS) Free release on 17th October 2023
PATREON EARLY ACCESS + MERGED OPTIONS
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TERMS OF USE | SEND YOUR FEEDBACK | REPORT AN ISSUE
Thanks to all the cc creators that I used in the pic. And thanks to @maxismatchccworld, @simblrcollective, @s4library​, @wewantmods​, and everybody who reblog this post!
If you’re a cc finds and want to be tagged when I post, please, let me know. You can send me an ask or in DM.
With your help, more people can know about my work! 💖 Love you all, XOXO 💖
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DESCRIPTION OF EACH ITEM:
BONBON HAIR
HAT GAME INCOMPATIBLE
6.476 POLYGONS
119 SWATCH COLORS - 24 plain colors from EA Color Palette - 95 plain colors from my Candy Color Palette
YOU WILL FIND IN LONG HAIR OR/AND STRAIGHT OR/AND UPDO
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APPLE PIE NAILS (TWO VERSIONS) Same colors description for both versions.
1.320 POLYGONS
113 SWATCH COLORS - 55 plain colors - 58 color combinations
YOU WILL FIND IN ACCESSORIES/FINGERNAILS
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BISCUITS EARRINGS
360 POLYGONS
10 SWATCH COLORS - All plain colors
YOU WILL FIND IN ACCESSORIES/EARRINGS
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CHERRY TART DRESS (TWO VERSIONS) Same colors description for both versions.
5.446 POLYGONS
55 SWATCH COLORS - All plain colors
YOU WILL FIND IN FULL BODY/SHORT DRESS
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CREATOR’S NOTES:
Let's start with my favorite item of the set, Bonbon Hair. It's the cutest hair I've ever created, and I'm really proud of it. The bow is adorable, and I was finally able to make a great 3D model of it. I'm really happy with how the hair looks - it's exactly what I had in mind. I hope you love it too! One thing to note is that the bow on Bonbon Hair isn't removable and won't work with hats. Usually, I prefer hairstyles that can be worn with hats, but for this one, I needed more space for the bow's texture. I also drew the bow's shadow onto the hair's texture to give it more depth and a better overall look. I also made sure to keep the polycount low - around 6k polygons. I could have made it lower, but it didn't look as good in movement. So, I kept it at a higher polycount to maintain good movement without too much distortion.
I designed the dress to complement the hairstyle, adding a bow at the back for an extra touch of charm and romance. I used a new mesh from the latest kit that I couldn't wait to franken-meshing with it. My goal was to create a vintage silhouette and style, and while I'm not sure if it was successful, I'm very happy with the final result. At the end of the day, it looks cute, and that's all that really matters.
The nails are a kind of old wip that I finally decided to finish. It's one of the cutest designs I've ever come across, and I was determined to recreate it in The Sims. I love a stiletto design, and for me, one of the best nail art is this one; it matches the nail's format and is so cute. The nail includes two color options but only one spec option. However, I plan to create additional versions in the future, including a glossy and matte finish, possibly as part of a mini set that I'm working on that will have this and other versions of some of my recent clothing designs.
Next up, we have the Biscuits Earrings. These were originally a work in progress meant for a different set, but while I was styling the Sims, I realized how well they matched with the current Sweet Tooth Set. So, I quickly finished them up and included them as part of the set.
By now, it's all. Unfortunately, I've been working very slowly lately; thanks to this heat wave, I feel most of the day like I'm melting. It's scorching in here, guys. I don't understand how a person can say global warming is a lie; really, how?!
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asdfghjklmals · 8 months
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BACK TO SCHOOL✩༶‧˚
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GENRE + T/W: sfw, fluff. WORD COUNT: 4.5k words. TAGS: satoru gojo x fem!oc. adoptedkiddos! megumi & tsumiki. overprotective!oc.
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SYNOPSIS: oc gojo girlfriend and satoru take megumi and tsumiki to get registered for school! AUTHOR'S NOTE: this was such a random piece that was sitting in my drafts, but i wanted to write more of guardian oc gojo girlfriend and satoru. oc gojo girlfriend will throw down with anyone who says shit about her kids or her man lol i think it's her scorpio sign. and y'all know she joined the pta because she's spiteful hahaha. REMINDER: if you want to imagine yourself in oc gojo girlfriend's character descriptions instead, please do!
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"satoru, you have to take megumi and tsumiki shopping for school supplies and clothes after your morning jujutsu practice today." you called out to him while brushing your hair, "i can't go with you because i'm showing the first years around today... and then we need to take them to register for school tomorrow morning."
satoru stepped out of the steamy shower, a towel wrapped around his waist, eucalyptus body wash aroma filling the air. he made his way to your side to peck a kiss on your cheek. his wet hair dripping all over you, bright blue eyes gazing at you in adoration.
"sure thing sweetheart, but don't get mad at me if i choose something for the kids that you don't particularly like."
you held his cheek in the palm of your hand, glaring at him, "just make sure the kids' clothes match and don't waste their money. the kids don't need designer clothing."
satoru gave you a smirk and squeezed your shoulders as if he was saying ‘fine…’
“i gotta go. don't get into any trouble, okay?”
"me? trouble? never heard of it." satoru winked at you.
you glared at him as he grinned, kissing him quickly on the cheek before you attempted to leave his room.
"(y/n)?" satoru called out to you.
you turned around to see what your boyfriend wanted. "what is it, satoru?" you groaned, "i'm gonna be late."
"you gotta give me a proper goodbye kiss. none of that soft bullshit."
you reluctantly walked back over to him and giggled. "you are too much, satoru gojo."
how could you say no to a freshly showered satoru gojo enticing you with a kiss?
satoru pulled you into his lap as you straddled his waist. "now i'm definitely going to be late." you laughed.
the white haired sorcerer whispered in your ear, "just one kiss and i'll let you go."
later that day: satoru's pov
satoru, tsumiki and megumi walked around a local shopping mall in tokyo. there was a specific clothing boutique in ginza that you liked to buy clothes for the kids at.
the two fushiguros trailed behind their guardian. megumi sure missed your presence today. why did gojo-sensei have to take them back-to-school shopping instead of you? megumi always felt more comfortable whenever you were around, he always felt so small around gojo-sensei. your comforting presence always made him feel better.
tsumiki tugged at satoru's uniform, "sensei, how come (y/n) isn't coming shopping with us?"
"she's busy showing the first years around the school today," satoru smiled, "—so your cool and totally awesome sensei is going to take you guys shopping instead."
the trio entered the familiar children's boutique as an employee recognized satoru and waved. "good morning, satoru! no (y/n) today?"
"not today. she’s busy with student body president duties this year," satoru flashed a smile at the employee. he turned to his partner-in-crime, “—tsumiki, let's start with you first.”
satoru started browsing through the girl’s clothing for tsumiki. during his scan, he spotted a pink tutu. he thought that it was adorable, and tsumiki had to have it. he thought to himself, 'i'll probably get a lecture for this one, but it's too cute to pass up'.
tsumiki ended up choosing pink and neutral colored clothing. she was such a girly girl, and you had so much fun dressing her up and taking her to her dance and cheer lessons.
once satoru finished picking out some new pieces for tsumiki, he started to look at clothes for megumi. picking out clothes for boys was much easier since he knew nothing about girls' clothes. he rarely bought you clothes for that reason, especially since he knew that you were so picky.
satoru chuckled to himself when he thought of the time where he tried to buy you lingerie as a joke and almost got a high pressured water cannon shot to his face. luckily, he had his infinity on or you would've drowned him in the yokohama bay.
the white-haired guardian picked up two pairs of jeans in navy blue and black. he added shirts that megumi could layer, and new shoes into the shopping cart. he noticed that megumi was growing out of his clothes and shoes now. that kid was going to have a growth spurt soon. megumi brought over a couple of pieces of clothing he wanted and placed it in the cart innocently. satoru peered over at him.
"did you get everything you wanted, megumi?"
the child avoided eye contact with satoru, "yeah, i did."
he turned over to the older fushiguro. "—and what about you, tsumiki?"
she shot a bright smile at satoru, "yup!"
“alright, let’s head to the stationary shop.”
satoru and the children went towards the cashier to check out. he swiped his black credit card to pay for the clothes.
"sensei, that's not the bank card!" tsumiki gasped, wondering why satoru didn't use the card that was intended for tsumiki and megumi’s use.
satoru chuckled, "you're right, kiddo. this is from me and (y/n). consider it a back-to-school gift."
tsumiki's eyes sparkled, "whoa, thank you gojo-sensei!"
"thank you, sensei." megumi added to show his appreciation too, however he still avoided eye contact.
satoru smiled and ruffled megumi's hair, "you're both very welcome. make sure to give (y/n) a big ol’ hug when you see her tonight too, okay?"
the two fushiguros nodded obediently at him. of course they would give you a hug when they got home to show their appreciation. they loved you with all their hearts. you were the mother figure in their lives that they didn’t know they needed.
providing for tsumiki and megumi with your own money was something you and satoru talked about when you decided to take in the kids as your own. the plan was to set aside their financial aid money so that they would be set once they turned 18. since you and satoru came from wealthy clans, it was the least you two could do for them.
"next, we need to buy school supplies..." satoru announced as he held the shopping bags full of clothes in one hand and his shopping list that you wrote for him this morning in another, "—then we can go back to jujutsu high and have some dinner."
satoru felt his phone vibrating in his pocket. sure enough, it was you.
"hi babe." satoru greeted you over the phone with a smile.
"how's shopping with the kids?" you asked.
"i know you're going to yell at me when i get home, so i might as well tell you now—i bought tsumiki a tutu."
"satoru gojo... a tutu?!"
satoru corrected you, "excuse me, but it's 'sweetheart' or ‘babe’, to you."
"satoru..." you grumbled.
he corrected you again, "babe—"
satoru chuckled at your stubbornness, using his last name whenever you were trying to be serious with him did not scare him as much as it used to. he could tell when you were truly upset with him and when you weren’t—and this was not one of those times.
"fine then. babe, a tutu? really?" you asked in disbelief. you pinched your nose bridge in annoyance.
"it was too cute, i couldn't resist." satoru argued, "—plus, i used my own card. so don't chastise me."
you changed the subject, "is megumi doing okay without me?"
"he's just being himself... quiet." satoru cocked his head to the side to see what megumi was up to, "sounds like you're showing favorites, sweetheart. how come you never ask about tsumiki?"
"because i know that tsumiki already loves you, it's megumi i'm worried about. he's so shy around you." you explained, "—and i don't have favorites. i love them both equally."
satoru flirted with you, "what about me? am i not your favorite? do you even love me?"
"i definitely love them more than you." you teased him, "are you coming home soon?"
satoru ignored your comment about loving the kids more than him. he would make it his mission to make sure you loved him more than anything in this world.
"we'll be home soon. the kids are picking out their school supplies."
"principal yaga said that we're having a dinner to celebrate the new students. so make sure you’re back on time, please.”
satoru rolled his blue eyes so far back in his head he hoped they would get stuck. that meant that he'd have to see principal gakuganji, and he was definitely towards the bottom of his list of favorite people at jujutsu high.
“okay, babe. whatever you say.” satoru sighed.
you giggled over the receiver, “i love you, satoru gojo.”
“i love you too, sweetheart.”
satoru clamped his flip phone shut and placed it back into his front pocket. he called out to the kids, “what do you say we get some ice cream before we head back to jujutsu high? (y/n) says it's okay if we're a little late.”
the next morning
your alarm rang while satoru groaned in your chest, face buried against your sternum as you cradled his head with your arms.
"five more minutes..." satoru mumbled breathlessly into your chest.
you tried to sit up, satoru refusing to let go of you with his strong arms. you grabbed your pillow and hit him upside the head with it. you got a lucky strike, no infinity.
"wake up! we told principal kinomoto that we'd be early."
satoru took the pillow you threw at him and tossed it on the ground. he grabbed you by your waist to pull your body on top of his. you squealed as you tried to get out of his grasp.
you held his face in the palm of your hands. "wake up, babe."
satoru continued to groan. you peeled his arms off of you and stepped out of the bed. he watched you make your way into the bathroom. you were wearing one of his white uniform button ups and his briefs. your messy hair cascaded down your back. you were a sight to behold in the morning. satoru felt like he was hiding a national treasure in his room whenever you were with him.
satoru reached his arms under his pillow, stretching his long body. he called out to you, "did i ever mention that you look great in my clothes?"
you rolled your eyes at him before shooting back a half-grin. god, he loved that crooked smile of yours. he gave you a scoff in return. you ran the water so you could wash your face and brush your teeth.
after you and satoru spent the early morning sneaking kisses on each other and getting ready together, you both walked over to tsumiki and megumi's room to get them ready for the day. you took care of megumi as satoru took care of tsumiki. while you were buttoning up megumi's shirt, you watched as satoru brushed and tied tsumiki's hair into two perfect pigtails.
the 7 year old reached for her jar of butterfly clips and handed them to satoru. he picked out two pink ones to clip into her hair, making sure her bangs were out of her face.
you patted megumi's shoulders, smiling at the younger fushiguro, "there we go, megumi. you look so handsome in your new shirt."
megumi blushed, looking down at his tan-colored button-up. "gojo-sensei chose it for me."
"lookin' good there, kiddo." satoru smiled at him and then turned to you, "doesn't tsumiki look great too, sweetheart?"
you smiled back at satoru and tsumiki, "of course she does. she's my little girly girl."
tsumiki twirled around in her new pink dress. she was so darn cute. satoru bent down to tighten the straps on her shoes. he pat her head as she hugged his leg. the kids were so tiny compared to satoru. you really did look like little family when you were out in public together.
after getting ready, tsumiki and satoru led the way to the dining hall while you and megumi trailed behind them. the four of you grabbed breakfast before heading out into the city.
at the elementary school
you could hear the whispers about you and satoru through your spirit birds. the other mothers were asking each other if you and satoru were actually tsumiki and megumi's real parents, how old you two were, and many other unsolicited questions and thoughts.
you had all the registration paperwork for megumi and tsumiki in your backpack as you sat down at a pavilion table to fill out the remaining papers with satoru.
"babe—" you turned to satoru who was watching tsumiki and megumi play on the playground, "should i put you down as the primary emergency contact?"
satoru had a red lollipop in his mouth that he got from the front desk, his sunglasses were resting on his nose bridge. he took the lollipop out of his mouth to reply to you, "sure, sweetheart. but why not put yourself down?"
"well—" you bit your lip in hesitation, "i was thinking that since you can teleport, you could get here faster if anything happened to the kids." you rested your chin on your hand and leaned into him. he put his arm around you, pulling you closer.
"makes sense to me."
you and satoru watched the kids in adoration as tsumiki already made new friends on the playground. she was prancing around the field while megumi was hanging on the monkey bars.
two women approached you, startling you and satoru out of your focused adoration for the kids.
"excuse me. are you those children's mother?" the woman pointed at tsumiki and megumi. "—the one with the brown hair and the blue hair."
"we're their guardians." you introduced you and satoru, "i'm (y/n) and this is my boyfriend, satoru."
the second mother playfully hit the first mother on the shoulder, "see? i told you that they're too young to be their parents. she barely looks like she's in high school."
"why do you ask?" satoru asked defensively, furrowing his eyebrows.
you put your hand on satoru's arm, a motion to tell him to fall back and that you'd handle this. he always came to your defense when it came to you or the kids… but he knew that you were on a different level of overprotective when it came to tsumiki and megumi. satoru just sat back and continued to watch the show.
"well, this school is a very prestigious school for children. we know almost everyone and all the families who attend here... and we've never seen you two around or those two kids." the second mother sneered at the both of you.
the first mother feigned shock, "they don't have a mother or father... that's so sad."
you glared at the two women, "just because we aren't their biological parents doesn't mean that they aren't being properly cared for. satoru and i have given them everything they need and they are in a loving environment."
you weren’t sure how loving an environment like the tokyo jujutsu high dorms actually was… but you and satoru made it clear to tsumiki and megumi that you both loved and cared for them, and that if they ever needed or wanted anything, it was theirs. the world was their oyster with you and satoru by their sides.
"well then. that's good to hear." the first mother started to turn her back towards you, "it was a pleasure meeting you, miss (y/n)?"
"(l/n)." you corrected her. just because she was older than you didn't mean that she could call you by your first name.
"we hope to see you around at school events." the second mother interrupted, "we volunteer at the school quite a bit. parents... or shall i say... guardians that volunteer help their kids gain recognition within the school. i'm sure we'll see you around if you don't want your kids to fall behind."
the two women started to walk away, snickering between themselves. satoru waved them off and patted your thigh to try to calm you down.
"just ignore them, sweetheart. they’re just old women whose husbands don’t actually love them." he tried to comfort you, grabbing your hand to kiss your knuckles. “—and i love you, so you’ll never be like them.”
you motioned one of your spirit birds to fly forward, following the two women. satoru sighed in defeat, he knew you weren't going to just ignore them. he started to grin though, this was one of things that made you so attractive in his eyes. it was that fire in you. you never stepped down from a fight.
"that blue haired child looks like he's going to be trouble. look at him! he looks like a delinquent." "we need to make sure that our children don't get involved with them. we don't even know what their guardians do for a living." "how are they even paying for tuition?" "i doubt those two can even afford to pay for the tuition here. they’re just teenagers!"
you grit your teeth, jaw clenched in anger, lips pursed. satoru could feel your cursed energy waver. he nudged you one last time, "babe, come on. let’s just go back to filling out paperwork."
"you heard what they said about our kids."
you slammed your pen against the table. you got up and walked towards the two women. satoru signed and folded his arms to watch the remainder of the show. he wished he had popcorn for this. he was ready to hold you back if needed, but he actually liked seeing you get feisty like this. he knew you could hold your own against anyone, including him.
"excuse me!" you called out to the two women, "hey! you two!"
the two mothers turned around, looking back at you, appalled at your approach.
"say one more thing about megumi and tsumiki!" you pointed at them with your index finger. "let's see what happens!"
"don't you know where our families come from? ever heard of the (l/n) clan or the gojo clan? the audactiy of you two to question how we can afford to pay for tuition. their tuition was paid fully in cash. you can ask the cashier over there." you pointed towards the cashier's window.
the first mother stammered, she was shocked that you confronted them, "well, i—"
"just because i'm young doesn't mean that i can't be a good mother to megumi and tsumiki." you snapped at them, "those two 'delinquents' mean the world to me. i can provide them whatever they need or want in order for them to live a happy life. maybe you two should focus on your own children instead of mine."
"that's enough out of you!" the second mother snapped back at you, "who do you think you are? who taught you how to be so disrespectful towards your elders?"
"—can i ask what's going on here?" a man with gray hair and grey eyes approached the three of you, interrupting the cat fight. satoru jumped in his seat and started to whistle, pretending not to have been listening on the sidelines.
"oh! principal kinomoto!" the first woman ran to his side, "this rude child was just causing a scene!"
principal kinomoto recognized you, "(y/n) (l/n)?"
"hi principal kinomoto!" you waved.
the two mothers looked at you in shock. they were surprised that you and the principal were already acquainted, wondering how you knew him.
"what's all the commotion about?" the principal asked again.
"well, these two had some stuff to say about my kids." you reported back to the grey haired principal, pointing at the two women.
"i see… is this true?" the principal turned to the two, "you know we don't tolerate this type of behavior. the (l/n) clan donates heavily to all the schools in tokyo. let's not jeopardize their generous contributions to our school due to some unwarranted comments."
the two women's jaw dropped. they were speechless. they absolutely knew about the (l/n) clan. they just didn’t think you were from that (l/n) clan.
"(y/n), we have much to catch up on. i saw that you and satoru are enrolling two children here."
"what's up, principal!" satoru called out. satoru made his way to you and the principal. he put his arm around your waist and shook hands with principal kinomoto.
he introduced satoru again to the two women, "mrs. fujiwara, mrs. yoshida. this is satoru gojo. the gojo clan also donate tremendously to this school as well. as a matter of fact, they're the ones that paid for the new library last fall."
"you two may leave now, i have to speak with the principal." you said to the two women, "you should go find your children."
mrs. fujiwara and mrs. yoshida quickly turned around and called for their children from the playground. it looked like they wouldn't be bothering you or your kids any time soon.
"ignore those two. they’re known for their gossip. let's sit down and catch up." principal kinomoto ushered you and satoru back to the table you were sitting at. "(y/n), how is touya? i haven't seen him in so long!"
"he's great. he's working on becoming the head of the household."
"—and are you at jujutsu high with satoru?"
satoru ruffled your hair, "yep, she is! we're third years now. gonna graduate soon!"
"so tell me about these kids you're enrolling." the principal peered over at the playground.
"would you like to meet them?" you asked with a smile. “they’re just the best kids.”
satoru called out to the two fushiguros, "hey! megumi! tsumiki! can you guys come here real quick?"
megumi jumped down from the monkey bars, tsumiki slid down from the metal slide she was on. they both ran towards you and satoru. tsumiki jumped into satoru's arms while megumi attached himself to your side.
"principal kinomoto, meet megumi and tsumiki fushiguro." you introduced the two fushiguros to their future principal with a cheeky smile, "—they're mine and satoru's kids."
"kiddos, say hi to principal kinomoto." satoru said, "he's a good friend of ours."
principal kinomoto reached his hand out for a handshake, "nice to meet you two."
you and satoru watched as tsumiki and megumi nervously shook hands with their principal and said hi. they were so cute in the way they interacted with him.
after getting acquainted, you shoo'd them off, “you two can go back and play now.”
they quickly smiled and waved, running back to play on the playground with their new friends. once megumi was back on the monkey bars, you turned to the principal, "principal kinomoto, i do have some concerns."
"what's on your mind, (y/n)?"
"i'm not worried about tsumiki fitting in, but i am worried about megumi." you sighed, hoping that megumi would be okay in school without you.
satoru added, "—megumi might cause a little trouble for you, principal."
the grey haired principal laughed, "is he a troublemaker like you, satoru?"
"you have no idea." you scoffed.
"the kid's a zen'nin with the ten shadows technique." satoru mentioned.
principal kinomoto looked at you and satoru, "you don't say?" he adverted his attention to megumi on the playground, "what shikigami has he tamed have so far?"
"just the demon dogs. he's starting to see nue and gamma though. so don't be surprised if you see two puppies named shiro and kuro on school grounds." satoru chuckled.
principal kinomoto was actually a grade one jujutsu sorcerer and was in the same class as touya. after graduation, he left to work as a non-sorcerer because he didn't like the mental toll being a jujutsu sorcerer put on him. he ended up going into education because he loved kids. if he couldn't save children from curses, he would save them another way, through education. him and his wife, mrs. akita, ran the school that you were enrolling megumi and tsumiki at. it was satoru's idea to register the kids here knowing the ties they had with the jujutsu society.
“don't worry. tsumiki and megumi will be taken care of here.”
"thanks so much, principal." you let out a relieved sigh, "that's one less thing to worry about."
"being a parent is hard," the principal laughed, pointing at you and satoru, "—but you two... when did that become a thing?"
"she fell in love with me at first sight." satoru interjected with a cocky smirk.
"—absolutely not." you threw an ice shard at his infinity, "i can't get rid of him... it's been almost two years now? satoru broke my domain expansion from the outside when i was sparring with touya. that's how we first met." (read 'love at first fight' here)
principal kinomoto teased you both, "—so it was love at first sight?"
"more like first fight. satoru didn't even like me at first." you told the principal. he was enthralled with your love story.
satoru rolled his eyes, "—that's not true!"
"i'm actually surprised that your brother didn't kill satoru when he found out you two were dating." principal kinomoto shrugged.
"god, touya and satoru love each other. they're bestfriends now. sometimes i think touya loves satoru more than me."
"well, give your brother my regards," principal kinomoto got up from his seat, "i have to get back to the office. i'm sure i have plenty of parents waiting to meet with me."
"take care." you waved.
"yeah, take care. we'll send the check for the monthly donation this week." satoru called out to the principal. you and satoru were now in charge of the clans’ donations to the school since you'd be visiting the school often.
principal kinomoto waved and brushed you two off, "don't worry about it. take your time with the donations. akita and i are happy to have megumi and tsumiki starting at the school."
you and satoru watched as the principal walked away from the pavilion table. you both sighed in relief. you didn’t think that being ‘parents’ at such a young age was in the cards for you and satoru... but he just had to bring home two adorable children for you to raise.
"that was hot." satoru giggled. the corner of his eyes started to wrinkle as he tried holding back his boisterous laugh.
"what was hot?" you asked.
"the way you stood up to those two moms." satoru said, "i love when you get feisty."
you leered at him, a cheshire grin spreading across your face, "—oh you love when i get feisty?"
"—but not with me!" satoru quickly said with his palms up in defense.
you rolled your eyes at him and finished filling out megumi and tsumiki's registration paperwork while the sly sorcerer snuck tender kisses on your cheek.
you scribbled your signature on the last line. after a moment, you turned to satoru, “should i join the parent-teacher association?”
EXTRA:
“(y/n), can i get the 64 pack of crayons with the sharpener in the back?” megumi asked in hopes that you'd say yes. he had always wanted the 64 pack of crayons.
satoru looked at the younger fushiguro, “you only need 12 crayons to color. who do you think you are? picasso?”
you glared at satoru and turned to megumi, “yes, you can have the 64 pack, megumi. get one for tsumiki too. and your gojo-sensei will pay for it."
"wha—hey!" satoru called out as you, megumi, and tsumiki walked away from him to head to the next aisle.
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