#couldn’t have went to another character! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

toomanystoriessolittletime · 2 days

Text

into you

Summary: After almost giving up the hope to become a big actor you get offered the leading role in a period drama, leaving you to spend three months in Scotland with your male co star Dieter Bravo and maybe falling in love with him.

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x fem. reader

Wordcount: 2.247

Rating: T

Warnings: fluff, falling in love, implied smut, kissing, really cheesy movie lines I made up, confessions of feelings, reader is in her late thirties, Dieter playing the piano

A/N: Another one for @undercoverpena April showers challenge! What's better than a Pedro character in period clothing in the rain? Making out with him hehe

follow @toomanystoriessolittletime-fics and turn on notifications to get notified when I post new fics

You couldn’t sleep.

The moon was shining hrough the window of your hotel room, an old castle in the middle of nowhere somewhere in Scotland.

You had come here almost three months ago, having gotten the first big job of your career, the lead role in a period drama. The first lead role you ever got. The first big job you ever got.

For years you dreamed of being a big movie star.

Much like every young person who came to LA.

Which had been almost twenty years ago. You had been about to quit trying for that one big role that would finally grant your your big success last year.

By now well in your thirties (the forties getting closer and closer), not having any major success apart from some multi episode secondary character on some netflix shows in the latest years, you gave up hope that you would make it.

Sometimes the residuals you got from playing Chandler Bing’s awkward girlfriend for two episodes almost twenty years ago on friends had been the only way to pay your rent.

You were looking into going back to school when your agent called you, talking you into going to this last audition. It had been as a favour to them that you agreed, the contracts between you and the agency already canceled towards the end of the month.

They had always believed in you and you hated saying no to them because of that reason.

Maybe it was you having nothing to lose that left you going into the audition and blowing them all away. Not that you thought you did until your agent called you not even twenty minutes after you went out of the audition, asking you to come back to read opposite the male lead.

Still you didn’t let yourself getting your hopes up, walking back into the office building, back into the room you had been in before, now with an additional face smiling warmly at you.

You didn’t know that in the next two hours your whole life would change.

Not just because they offered you the job.

No, It was the day you met Dieter Bravo.

Of course you knew who Dieter Bravo was.

You had admired him since he starred in the high school drama series you definitely did not tape every episode from when you were in your teens.

And there had been no posters of him in your room growing up, nope.

But like almost every teen crush, it faded over the years.

You grew up, and he did too. You knew he had won an Oscar some years back, you saw the movie in the cinema back then.

He had made headlines after that, naming him the next big thing.

But lately the only headlines you remembered of him had been of his drug escapades and dating life.

So you had been a little reserved when you first met, hoping he would be professional enough throughout the audition.

Hope you shouldn’t have had, because Dieter had turned out to be professional in every single way.

Now, after spending almost two months with him, playing opposite of him, acting that you were in love with him, you found yourself wishing he would be a little less professional.

Groaning you sat yourself up in your bed, clicking the lamp on the bedside table on, reaching for your phone.

2:43 am.

Taking a deep breath and releasing a long sigh as you exhaled you let your head fall back.

In twenty four hours you would be on a plane back to the states, already on your way to shoot your next movie, your career seemingly finally starting off now that you were starring in a movie with Dieter Bravo.

You should be beyond happy.

Everything you dreamed off finally seemed to come true. You had three jobs lined up that would pay more than you had made in the last ten years combined.

Yet the thought of waking up every morning and not getting to spend the day with Dieter made it all bittersweet.

You had spent a lot of time together since getting to Scotland to shoot this movie. Not only on set, but apart from it too. He had been here before, shooting another movie and invited you out some times, showing you around. You had dinner together almost every night be it in an restaurant he wanted to show you or in the hotel. You got to know the man behind the persona you learned he put on for the public for and over the last weeks you had found yourself falling for him.

Your fingers cam up to brush over your lips, the lips he had kissed.

More than once.

In front of the camera.

But before you went to bed tonight, he walked you to your room and he had kissed you good night. Without cameras rolling. Without people around. Just you and him. His warm hand on your cheek, your back pushed against your hotel room door as he towered over you, his other hand resting on the door behind you.

You were out of breath when he parted from your lips, wishing you a good night, leaving you watching after him with your lips parted, your brain still trying to process that he had just kissed you, as he went down the hallway until he disappeared into his room.

You were too giddy to sleep, getting an old sweatshirt on before you grabbed your hotel key and walked out of your room, hoping he was as sleepless as you were and downstairs where you had found him often during your stay.

You could hear the faint sound of a piano as you entered the lobby, the night manager giving you a small smile as you walked past, following the sound.

In the far back corner of the lobby was a piano where you found Dieter playing a melody you did not recognise.

You had found him here before, in the beginning when you could not sleep because you were too nervous to fuck this big chance you got up.

He told you that his art supplies hadn’t been shipped yet, and that he usually painted when he couldn’t sleep.

And so instead he played.

And you listened, sitting next to him until you both almost fell asleep, before he walked you to your room, only to be up some hours later to shoot a movie where his character denied to be in love with your character, pushing your character away until a big dramatic scene where you would finally admit your feelings to each other.

Sitting down on the seat next to him as he played now, you let your head fall against his shoulder, hearing him inhale as he continued to play.

His lips brushed against your temple and you closed your eyes, just listening to his song.

When he finished you looked up at him, his eyes were already on you, an unreadable expression on his face.

„Couldn’t sleep?“ he asked.

You hummed in agreement.

„Too many thoughts in my head,“ you whispered and he nodded. One of his arms came to wrap around your back, pulling you closer against his side.

„You wanna talk about those thoughts?“ he asked and you chuckled.

„Don’t wanna fuck the big scene up tomorrow, well today,“ you said and he gave you a small smile.

„If someone is gonna fuck up it’s me. You make me keep forgetting my lines,“ he winked and you felt your cheeks growing warm, remembering the many occasions Dieter had seemingly spaced out during some scenes, looking at you with an expression you couldn’t place.

„What do you mean?“ You asked, and he sucked his bottom lip in, before he shrugged and there it was again, that expression in his face, his eyes big as he looked at you.

„I can’t stop looking at you. You’re so talented and beautiful and kind and so damn intelligent. Sexy….,“ he winked „You just blow me away and it’s like my brain stops working when I look at you sometimes. I never really felt like this before…“ he whispered and you blinked at him.

„What I am trying to say is, I like spending time with you. I like talking to you. I like kissing you, touching you,“ he grinned and you huffed.

„Especially when it’s just the two of us. Last week when the director called cut when we were in bed….“ He closed his eyes, shaking his head.

You had rushed off after finishing the scene with him, having to take care of the ache between your legs in the bathroom after spending almost six hours in bed with him, shooting numerous sex scenes.

„I wish we had been alone,“ he whispered his face getting closer to yours, his lips brushing over yours.

„Dieter,“ you whispered, his hand coming up to cup your cheek, his lips pressing against yours and you shivered.

„Yeah?“ He asked.

„We are alone now,“ you whispered and he nodded, before he kissed you again, deeply.

„Would you like to have sex with me?“ He whispered and your lips twitched into a grin which he mirrored before he kissed you again.

„Take me to your room, Dieter,“ you said, giggling when you found yourself pulled in the direction of the elevators in the next moment.

„This is madness,“ you shook your head, the rain coming down on you without mercy, drenching your many layers of clothes.

„Why? Why is it madness that I have fallen for you?“ Dieter asked, in character, his white shirt clinging to his chest.

You huffed a laugh, your character in denial about the feelings not only she had, but he had too.

„Because we are both engaged. And not to each other. We have to end this. I have to….“ You shook your head, closing your eyes, before you looked up at him. Dieter having closed the distance between the two of you, but not close enough to touch. The raindrops where running down his nose, his hair clinging to his face.

He looked like a wet dream straight out of a Jane Austen novel.

„All these times we spend in each others arms, they don’t mean anything to you?“ He asked.

„It was a mistake. It shouldn’t have happened,“ you said, Dieter’s character seeing right through your lie.

„Do you love me?“ He asked and you did not have to play the small smile that sneaked to your lips for only a moment before you fought it down.

„It doesn’t matter,“ you said, turning away from him, but his hand wrapped around your wrist, stopping you before you could go.

„It matters to me. ,“ he whispered, broken, and the tone of his voice made you want to cry.

The rain continued to fall as you gave the camera time to capture both of your faces.

„Of course I love you,“ you finally said, looking at him over your shoulder.

„Then stay,“ he pleaded. You began to shake your head, when he pulled you against his chest, one of his hands on your cheek, brushing your hair that stuck to your face to the side, his eyes gazing deeply into yours.

„Stay and allow yourself to be happy,“ he said, almost begging.

„Stay here and let me love you,“ he let his forehead fall against yours and your eyes dropped close, pictures of the night he had spend with you filling your mind, the way his forehead had rested against yours as he filled you over and over and…

You opened your eyes and Dieter’s lip twitched for a second, having caught your unintended pause.

„What about our families?“ you asked, „What about my sister? She’s in your house getting ready to marry you today,“ you asked.

„They will understand. They have to. And if they don’t, I’ll take you away where we can live our life without the judgement of others. You’ll never have to worry for money.I love you, please be with me,“ his nose brushed against yours.

You felt his other hand on your lower back and you gasped.

„Then take me away,“ you whispered, feeling his smile against your lips as he finally kissed you, your arms wrapping around his broad back, fingertips brushing over his drenched clothes as he deepened the kiss.

The first thing you realised when Dieter parted from your lips was that the rain had stopped and that it was quiet around you. Too quiet.

Looking at Dieter he gave you a sheepish smile before you looked around, finding the crew around you looking at the both of you, Dieter’s PA holding two robes in his arms, giving you a wide smile.

„You gonna listen when I call cut now?“ The director teased with a wide grin and you let your head fall against Dieter’s chest, mortified, but he just chuckled, before he helped you get into the robe his PA had brought over.

„We’ll meet in an hour for the wedding scene, do not be late,“ the director reminded everyone, giving you and Dieter a longer look, and you nodded. Dieter grabbed your hand, and you looked at him.

„Can’t wait to marry you,“ he winked and kissed you again, before you both were rushed off from the set to get ready.

And you did actually get married.

Seven months later.

On a beach.

In the rain.

Without any interruptions.

#undercoveraprilshowerschallenge #my fic #Dieter Bravo #Dieter Bravo x fem. reader #Pedro Pascal #fanfiction #fanfic #fan fiction #pedro pascal characters #dieter bravo fanfic

150 notes · View notes

marvuders · 1 day

Text

"No swearing, Mooney!" — Wolfstar

warnings: heavy food mentions word count: 3,187 characters/era: sirius black, remus lupin, baby!harry potter, mention of other marauders. au where james & lily lived. summary: Remus is tasked with cooking breakfast for himself, his boyfriend, Sirius and their friend's baby Harry. It doesn't go quite well at first, but everything works out in the end.

Remus quickly glanced over his shoulder, but he couldn’t help but stop and take in the moment. His boyfriend, Sirius, was jumping around their lounge room with the largest smile on his face, his hair bouncing around with him, his baby hairs starting to stick to his forehead that was quickly becoming sweaty. Their friend’s toddler, Harry, was just as excited as Sirius was. He couldn’t call it jumping, but Harry was bouncing with Sirius’ movements, laughing as they went.

It was such a sweet moment, he wished that he had his camera nearby. Muggle cameras couldn’t do justice to this moment. It was small moments like these that made Remus fall in love with Sirius all over again.

The coldness in his hand quickly reminded him what he was actually meant to be doing, Remus caught the short end of the stick this morning and was meant to be cooking breakfast for all three. He placed the milk down on the counter, rubbing his hands together as he looked at the messy counter in front of him and the recipe he didn’t quite understand. Remus never really understood the appeal of cooking, he couldn’t do it, he didn’t enjoy it and he certainly didn’t enjoy the clean up afterwards either. His mother always said that he’d have to find a partner who could cook, or to learn how to quickly. Well, jokes on her, because he did find someone who is actually good at cooking. Which made him wonder why Sirius wasn’t cooking and playing with the baby instead.

But hearing the endless laughter of Sirius and Harry made his forthcoming battle with food a bit easier to handle. He brought the recipe to the front of the counter, skimming over the words that presented themselves as jargon.

“Okay… so that much milk,” Remus whispered to himself, “I need containers right? Right.” He flung open the cupboard door, picking one of the measuring jugs and a small bowl from the thousand of plastic containers. He measured the milk, it wasn’t exact but that’s for only him to know, then added it to his ‘mixing bowl.’ Sirius said he needed that.

“Crack two eggs into a separate bowl,” He continued reading, his eyebrows furrowing with each line. Remus got another bowl out and the eggs. Well, turns out he is worse at cracking eggs than he is cooking in general. First attempt, he hit the egg against the bowl too hard and it shattered everywhere. Second attempt saw half the shell go into the bowl. Third attempt was quite alike the first. This when he started to get frustrated.

“Bloody shit!” Remus said, upon the forth egg falling out of his hands and breaking before he could even get it near the bowl. He took a breath and stood there, with the shattered egg in front of him on the floor.

“Okay, what the actual fu-”

“HEY!”

Remus turned to find Sirius standing in the lounge room, with his hands dramatically sitting on his hips. His long black hair sitting in front of his face, certain parts sticking up from where no doubt Harry had messed it up. The toddler was sitting on the couch, thumb in mouth, excitedly looking between himself and Sirius.

“Don’t you dare swear in front of the baby!” Sirius dramatically exclaimed, tilting his head slightly as he huffed and puffed, the corner of his mouth fighting off a smile. “Lily will kill me if we give Harry back swearing and cursing, Lupin!”

Remus lifted his hands up to his chest, displaying his open palm to Sirius, proclaiming his ‘innocence.’ Sirius slowly started to smile and let out a chuckle, lowering his hands from his hips as he lowered himself next to Harry. Remus found himself smiling, feeling a bit calmer than he was a minute ago.

“No swearing, Moony,” Sirius pointed his finger in Remus’ direction. “Sorry mum,” He replied, quickly flashing a wink at his boyfriend, who had already gone back to play with Harry. The short bust of silence did not last long.

Remus grabbed a few paper towels from the roll, bending down to wipe the shattered egg off the floor, then the ones on the counter. He didn’t figure there was a point in trying to save any, they could always buy more. So all failed attempts went into the bin. After some quick cleaning, he grabbed a few more eggs out of the fridge. Remus was just about to pick up the first one, to crack against the bowl when two arms wrapped around his waist from behind and he felt Sirius pressed up against him, resting his chin on Remus’ shoulder. He could sense that he was smiling, no doubt already thinking of an insult about his egg-cracking skills. Sirius and James had made immense fun of Remus in the past about how he couldn’t cook.

“You’re putting too much pressure on them,” Sirius softly said. He proceeded to wrap his hands around Remus’, guiding them as they softly cracked the egg against the bowl, and further cracked it open to let the insides fall into the bowl. Sirius had to lean around Remus to peer into the bowl, he wasn’t quite tall enough to see over his shoulder. Of course, this time there wasn’t any shell within the bowl. Remus smiled, as Sirius quickly grabbed the other egg and cracked it into the bowl, another perfect crack.

“You can’t live without me, babe,” Sirius cockily said, as he withdrew his arms, smacking Remus on the arse as he laughed and walked back to Harry. Remus shook his head and smiled, he knew the cocky remark was coming, sooner or later.

With two eggs perfectly cracked, he looked back to the recipe, moving through the steps and attempting to clean as he went. Sirius taught him it was best to clean whilst you cook, although he never understood exactly why. He had the stovetop on, the grease in pan and bread in the egg-milk mixture. So far so good. Remus moved two pieces of bread into the pan, and luckily they didn’t stick.

A few minutes later, and it was time to flip the bread. Remus caught himself holding his breath, everything had gone good so far— other than the eggs of course, but flipping was the crucial part. Remus chucked the utensil down on the counter with a heavy thud, taking a heavy breath. Both pieces of bread were burnt. He chucked the temperature down a notch, running his hands through his hair. Remus felt rather frustrated and annoyed. Any other baby-less day, he would’ve been thinking out loud and swears would take up most of his dialogue. And he probably would’ve tried to bribe James or Sirius to step in and do it for him. Everyone knew Remus and cooking didn’t exactly mix. But himself and Sirius had been trusted to babysit, and a part of that was supplying a meal, and not cursing. He took another deep breath and continued to wait and cook the bread. Wait and flip, wait and flip, try not to curse, wait and flip.

“Okay, I’m fucking done! Why is it so fucking hard?” Remus yelled, chucking the burnt bread into the bin and turning off the stovetop. “It’s just fucking bread? Fucking bastards of things.”

He continued to chuck things all over the kitchen, the utensil just made it into the sink, the bowls got shoved to the side, making loud noises as they went. It wasn’t long before everything was even more of a mess than it was before, and Remus just stood there in the kitchen, his chest heaving up and down as he took heavy breaths. He lifted his hands up, burying his face in them.

“Hey,” Sirius whispered, slowly walking over to the kitchen with Harry lifted and sitting on his hip. “Moony, hey, babe?”

Remus lowered his hands, turning to face Sirius. He went to go speak, opening his mouth slightly, but soon closed it when no words came to fruition.

“It’s okay, we all know you can’t cook,” Sirius’ tone was light and caring but with a hint of humour. “But,” he paused, hiking Harry further up his body, “you gotta stop cursing in front of the baby.”

There was a moment of silence before Remus started to laugh which Harry quickly copied and joined in. All three boys were laughing in their disaster of a kitchen, bits of eggs, milk and burnt bread all over the place. Remus made eye-contact with Sirius, smiling softly as he mouthed ‘I’m sorry.’ Sirius quickly responded, shaking his head and walking forward a few steps to gently kiss him on the cheek.

Remus took Harry out of Sirius’ arms, wrapping one arm around his legs and bottom, whilst his other hand supported his upper back and shoulders. Harry’s hair resembled James’ hair- dark, wavy and full of volume. His bright green eye’s paralleling Lily’s, having the same level of innocence and mischievous intent behind them. Harry reached for Remus’ face, playing and prodding with his cheeks, pushing around the skin and making Remus look like an utter idiot— but it made Harry laugh.

“Pete’s gonna get us drive through and bring it over,” Sirius said, walking back into the kitchen, “to save you trying to cook again, Moony.”

“Thank you Pads,” Remus replied, removing his upper hand from Harry’s back and chucked a few utensils in the kitchen sink. Sirius started to do the same, not exactly cleaning but just general tidying. It’ll make it easier for when they did eventually get around to cleaning.

Remus didn’t quite know how Sirius could make such a trivial task comforting and relaxing. He slowly rocked Harry, whilst wiping the benches with his spare hand. Sirius cleaned up the leftover food and rinsed out the bowls whilst making small, banter comments under his breath about Remus’ lack of cooking skills, and cleaning skills. It had calmed all the previous tension he was holding from his outburst with the toast.

“I’m just saying, Moony, my mother’s hair would turn instantly grey if she even looked at the mess you left our kitchen in!” Sirius exclaimed, dramatically putting his arms out for further flair.

“Lower your voice, Black,” Remus softly said, tilting his head towards Harry, who was now almost asleep, his head resting in the crook of Remus’ neck, his little hand grasped onto a section of his top. Neither of them couldn’t help but smile. “The baby’s trying to sleep.”

“Least it isn’t swearing,”

“I hate you, sometimes,”

“If only I knew how bad a cook you were before I said yes.”

Remus squinted at his boyfriend, if there wasn’t a baby in his arms, he probably would’ve tackled him. Sirius stood there, a grin plastered on his face, his hair messy and in need of a haircut, his graphic tee had no sleeves, showing off his arms quite well. Remus had briefly forgotten about their banter, taking a minute to admire Sirius’ stature, his toned arms and how he always managed to pull off ripped skinny jeans.

“Hey!” Sirius whispered with force, “I just insulted you, idiot, don’t have anything to say?”

“You’ll make up for that later, Pads.”

“Pete’s out the front,” Sirius said, with his phone in hand. “Be back in a minute.”

Remus carefully peered down at Harry, moving incredibly slowly in an attempt to not awaken him. He was fast asleep, with a small pool of drool forming onto his top. Grabbing his blanket off the top of the couch, he slowly wrapped it around Harry before placing him in his make-do bed just beside the couch. Harry settled in nicely, his face moving ever so slightly reacting to whatever that little head was dreaming about. Sirius was back rather quickly, with food in hand.

They both sat down on the couch, their bodies leaning up against each other. Sirius reached into the takeout bags, pulling out the pancakes and fries that Pete got from them. Remus quickly went for the bag chips, or the best chips, in his opinion.

“I do love you, you know,” Sirius said, with his mouth half-full, “I love you and your crappy cooking skills.”

Remus lifted his arm, wrapping it around Sirius’ shoulder, pulling him in closer towards his own body. “I love you too, I couldn’t eat without you.” He laughed, reaching for some more fries.

It was a comfortable silence within their apartment. The two of them sitting on the couch, enjoying each other’s company and physical affection, whilst Harry slept in his make-do bed beside them. The smell of fresh takeout filling their senses. It was moments like these that Remus knew he made the right decision a few years ago. When he had the choice to keep his feelings to himself or take the gamble and potentially ruin his friendship. He was incredibly grateful that he took the risk; otherwise, he wouldn’t have one of his best friends beside him, stuffing his face with chips, with his body pressed against his own. And he certainly couldn’t call that best friend his boyfriend either.

Remus squeezed Sirius into a side-on hug, resting his head against Sirius’ hair. He couldn’t help but smile whilst they both continued to eat their not-so home-cooked breakfast. It was this that he had longed and yearned for, a sweet life that he never thought he could have, let alone deserve it.

“I really fucking love you, Sirius,” he whispered, taking another bite of food. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”

Sirius turned to eye-ball Remus, smiling slightly. “I really trucking love you too, Moony,” he paused, “but how many times do I have to tell you, no swearing in front of the baby!”

“He’s asleep, idiot,”

“Still! We’d never be allowed to babysit again.”

They both started to laugh, Remus moved forward, brushing their noses together. He closed his eyes as he started to close the distance between the two of them, Remus could feel Sirius smiling as he pressed his lips against his loves. Sirius kissed back as he tilted his head up, falling perfectly together. It was soft and light, Remus' chest felt light but full of emotion at the same time. His face seemed to form a smile without putting any thought into it. He couldn’t imagine any other place that he felt more happier or safer, with his lips against Sirius’, their limbs against one another.

Sirius pulled back first, giving Remus that warm smile, the type that included his eyes, where these little lines in the outer corner of each eye would appear, and his eyebrows would lift slightly. It was when Sirius was the most beautiful.

There was a specific thought that rushed through Remus’ head. He had to actively try to stop it from coming up and out of his mouth. He couldn’t ask it yet, no, not yet. Could he?

Sirius had turned back to the remainder of the food, it gave Remus a minute to think. He’d been wanting to for months, he had pondered different moments, different ways to ask it. He had even second questioned whether they were at that point in their relationship, whether he would actually say yes. Remus knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with Sirius, he was convinced that Sirius was the love of his life.

Remus found himself lifting his body off the couch, his legs threatening to drop out from underneath him as he walked towards their shared bedroom. He’d brought a set of rings a few months ago now, it was an impulsive buy. Remus dug them out of the hiding spot, opening the boxes and looking over them.

His chest pounded, he felt like he was dreaming- nothing seemed real, but he couldn’t help but feel that he was making the right decision. He quickly shoved the boxes in his pyjama pockets and walked back out to the lounge room.

“Sirius?” His voice shook as he spoke, he stopped a few feet in front of his unsuspecting lover. He could feel his hands getting clammy, his mouth felt dry, his heart pounded more than he had ever felt it do so before.

“Yeah, babe?” Sirius licked his fingers of sauce, looking up at him. Here goes nothing.

Remus slowly lowered down on one knee, pulling the ring box out of his pocket as he did. “Sirius Black,” he paused, opening up the box, revealing the ring and pointing it in Sirius’ direction, “I love you more than I can even begin to describe.”

“Rem-”

“Wait,” He interrupted, “I want to finish first; I wouldn’t be where I am without you. I can’t live without you. I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Remus took a breath, he continued, “Padfoot, will you marry me?”

It felt as if the next ten seconds lasted forever, just staring at Sirius, awaiting an answer. He watched as Sirius moved the food off his lap to where he sat a minute ago, and his hand started to shake out of his control as Sirius lowered himself to the floor, level with himself.

“Yes,” He whispered, his hands clasped Remus’ shaking ones. There were a few tears forming in both of their eyes, Sirius didn’t seem to mind and just let them fall down his slightly blushed cheeks. “I’ll marry you.”

A relieved chuckle escaped Remus’ mouth, he took a heavy breath. His mind kept replaying ‘yes’ over and over again. It didn’t quite seem real. They were both crying on their lounge room floor, grasping one another. Sirius leaned forward, moving one of his hands to the side of Remus’ face, running his thumb back and forth along his cheek.

“I love you too, Moony,” Sirius cried, “so, so much.”

“Sirius Lupin has a nice ring to it,” His voice was barely audible, but he could see Sirius smile.

“It does, doesn’t it?” Sirius sniffled as he pulled the ring out of the box, offering it to Remus and held his hand out. Remus chucked the box aside, slipping the gold ring onto Sirius’ finger, it matched his skin tone immensely. “It’s beautiful, Moony.”

The silence was full and warm, there weren't any words that came to either of their minds. It was truly the perfect moment.

Remus gripped onto Sirius, not wanting to let him out his arms, and he moved them both against the side of the couch. Sirius quickly settled in his lap, resting his head against his upper chest, there wasn’t a doubt that he could hear how fast and loud his heart was beating. Remus shut his eyes and lifted his hand to play with his now-fiance’s hair. Smooth as silk, like normal with a slight scent of pine. It was another one of Remus’ favourite things about his partner.

“You’re stuck with me forever now, you realise that right, Lupin?”

“Well, you’re stuck with my cooking, babe.”

26 notes · View notes

evergreenfields · 14 hours

Text

In Another Life

Hurt, no comfort, I’m ready to break my own heart.

Your flatmate is dating Soap and he’s everything you want.

Pairing: Soap x your female flatmate, one sided female reader x Soap, Captain Price x reader.

CW: low self esteem, character death (spoiler, not explicit), catcalling, voyeurism, masturbation, PIV sex.

A/n: I hella projected lol. Reader is broken.

——

Soap is dating your flatmate.

Most men that your flatmate brought home were wet wipes, but this guy was some kind of special forces. His eyes were electric blue and he had the thickest eyelashes, he went by Johnny but he also went by Soap, you never learned why. You had to mentally pinch yourself while staring at him, he was everything you wanted in a partner. You hated the creamy mess in your underwear when you were in his company.

He was muscled and shaped like an upside down triangle, you had to look away when he would pop out from their room in the night. Muttering “sorry ‘scuse me” as you squeeze past the narrow corridor, ignoring the rumble of his “no no, I’m taking up all the room, lass.”

You caught his thighs and bulge in his compression shorts when he left for a run in the morning. Later, your flatmate traipsed into the kitchen muttering “I can hardly walk after last night, let alone run!”

You laugh and slap her arm playfully as you leave the room. You’re an expert at that now. That’s not to say you were never happy for her, but your phone was currently not blowing up with your latest dating app matches.

——

On the off chance Soap arrived when you were coming out of the shower, he only ever looked at your eyes and quickly got out of your way. He only had eyes for your flatmate. You got to your room and stood in front of the mirror and wondered what your flatmate and other women had that you didn’t.

——

Soap was full of energy, ready for a laugh but very protective. You would listen from your room when he dropped her off late at night after a raucous night out on the town.

“Call me tomorrow, alright?” His voice is muffled.

“I’ll be fine.”

“Just call me when you wake up. You look like you need a lie in tomorrow. I’ll bring you breakfast.”

Tomorrow morning comes and Soap is early with a bag of food from a brunch spot nearby, he even brought you a coffee too. You thank him too much, maybe it wasn’t the coffee you were thanking him for.

——

Your flatmate and Soap came home late one night absolutely drunk out of their minds, they wobbled through the front door trying to dance to a song playing on his phone. They see you and it’s like they have heart eyes.

“Y/n, it’s y/n, THE GOAT!” Your roommate yells.

“The GOAT!” Soap hollers.

They both flop into the sofa either side of you. They’re too drunk to notice your teary eyes. You pushed the soggy tissue into your sleeve.

A dance tune starts up and before you can even recognise it, Soap bounces up with hands held out towards you both.

Your roommate grabs one hand.

You’re next.

You take Soap’s hand and you arc off the sofa, he’s strong.

You’re pressed up against his side. He’s hard, large and warm, you try not to enjoy the bodily contact as you all boogie to the song. You start to smile until you remember he isn’t yours.

——

“It’s only 2 days but I’m so excited,” she talks about her friend’s wedding in the south of France, “I’m wearing this dress” she flicks through her phone gallery “and Johnny is going to wear a kilt!” Muscled calves, big smile and rugged hands clasped at his front, Johnny looked like a million bucks.

“I love it, you’ll match!” You managed to squeeze out. You imagine the memories they’ll make and photos they’ll take. That night you have a 2nd date, you are excited by the fact he has asked you out again. It filled you with something resembling happiness.

You are meant to meet at a station out of town but you couldn’t find him at the small station and the path towards the car park was unlit and dodgy. When your date found you, he was annoyed that he had to pay for parking. He kept throwing red flags at you.

But still you slept with him because you wanted to feel touched and desired. You regretted it and then you had to take the train home later that night because he “had an early start to work tomorrow.” You wrapped your jacket around yourself to keep out some of the cold, trying not to be annoyed that he didn’t even attempt to make you orgasm or show any aftercare. You delete his number from your phone.

Later that weekend, the duo arrived home.

“We bought you back some chocolate!” Your flatmate says, Johnny swings his bag off his back, he passes it to you with 2 hands like it's a bar of gold. It could have been, with the way you looked at it.

“Aww guys you didn’t have to.” Your mouth is dry.

“Johnny found it, I didn’t know you were a sea salt and caramel fan!”

You put the chocolate in a drawer because you didn’t want to get used to tastes you couldn’t indulge in.

——

“He’s a prick, forget about him.” Your flatmate says pointedly about a new guy you were dating.

“Oi who’s a prick?” Soap walks into the kitchen, taking your flatmate’s waist in his hand.

“No one-“ you turn away.

“A fuck boy that y/n isn’t seeing any more.” Your flat mate sounds proud by what wasn’t her decision.

“He isn’t a fuck boy.” You know you’ll regret clarifying the point, “we didn’t fuck, so he’s not. He’s just a prick.” You and the conversation. Soap whistles.

Later that night when you’re washing the dishes, Soap approaches you.

“Listen, forget about that guy,” he says low, you’d follow that voice anywhere.

“Thanks.” You squeak quietly.

“You will find what you're looking for, keep pushing and you’ll look back on this shite with a smile, maybe a misty eye, ey?” He bends forward to catch your eyes as you were trying to avoid them.

He smiles, you smile. He leaves, you remain.

The suds disappear and you turn off the tap, left in silence.

That night, they have muted sex, you hear their attempts at muffling moans and stifling strained grunts. You hear the bed frame squeak on the last hardest thrusts, then silence for a while. You imagine they feel warm, tingly and flushed, chests heaving. Eventually you hear footsteps come and go from the bathroom, the toilet flush going and the door shuts again. You wait for your heart rate to stabilise and your heart ache to subside.

——

“We’re going to the pub, wanna join us? Johnny’s friends are going to be there.” Your flatmate asks you.

You wonder if they’re as hot, funny and protective. You tell yourself you’re just going along for a chat, but part of you hopes it leads to something more; you put the hopeless in hopeless romantic. Put yourself out there, that’s what everyone says.

You wear a nice outfit that makes you feel pretty, your confidence isn’t abundant but you’re feeling yourself.

You arrive at the pub, you meet them, you chat, you drink, you leave.

Nothing about the evening was bad, his team were really nice, all huge and charming in their own ways. Their Captain was a greyhound with an intense gaze that seemed to follow you. Gaz’s girlfriend arrived and you thought you heard some rumblings about Ghost being pushed to date.

The Captain was receptive to you, leaning in to listen, you thought you saw him glance at your lips and legs. He helped you off the tall stool you were sitting on, taking you by your waist to help you down. You know not to push, men hated when women pushed. Well, they hated when you pushed. And you didn’t want to make anything awkward between you and your flatmate. So you left without asking for his phone number or a date, but he hugged you tightly and held your gaze for longer than you thought usual.

When all three of you got home, your flatmate shouted at the top of her lungs “you and the Captain huh?! Practically undressing each other with your eyes!” You laugh and immediately feel your ears going red. You were stoked that someone else noticed because you thought it was all in your head, as it usually was.

You didn’t notice Soap put a hand out to stop her.

“Babe. Babe-“ he says “don’t go there.”

Your heart tightens. Your flatmate puts her hands on her hips, confused and a little offended as if to say ‘I know what I saw.’

“It ain’t like that, the Captain is… Price is… Look, he’s married to the job.” Brows knitted, the jovial spirit replaced with seriousness, “we don’t sit around and talk about it but he ain’t the type to mess around.”

You play it off “we were just talking, it’s not a big deal.”

It hurts when Soap says “good, because he’s a lifer.”

You close the door to your bedroom and mull Soap’s words in your tormented mind. The fuzziness you felt replaced by emptiness.

Part of you willed it to be wrong, that you were the woman to pull the Captain out of his self fulfilling and self imposed prophecy. You almost laughed at your audacity.

“I can’t even get a text back, why would he be interested?” You stare at the ceiling, the alcohol left your system and the room was uncomfortably still.

——

“You like tha’, lass?” you hear Soap rasp, you’re not sure if he’s taking her from behind or if he’s on top of her. The faint slaps, skin on skin, indicate it’s either doggy or the standing position your flatmate had once whispered about. The loud moans indicate it’s good.

You don’t breathe. You just listen.

“Oh god, Johnny please!” Your flatmate whines, the force of his thrusts evident in her stuttering voice.

You close your eyes and see yourself with Soap under you, knees folded under his bulging arms, hips pistoning into you with ferocious need. You argue with yourself but then you quickly surrender and slip your hand into your knickers. You draw tight circles on your clit while your eyes burn with tears unfallen. Undiluted shame and need fills you. You breathe sharply through your nose and then hold your breath, staying as quiet as possible. Both of your hearts raced, thumping against your ribs.

“Tha’s it,” you hear his muffled voice grunt. You imagine his massive hand grasping your breast, your hand follows. Their bed frame groans but yours is silent. Your flatmate’s voice gets higher in pitch and she comes loudly, he grunts, swears, the mattress squeaks. You push two fingers into yourself and quickly find your spongy spot, electricity rolls through you.

You come undone shakily and silently, tears springing immediately from your eyes as you ride the wave of your orgasm. Your hand clasps across your mouth as you try to stem the noise of your sobs. You feel disgusted and disgusting. You wipe your eyes with your sleeves. You check your phone, no text from him. You manage to fall into a restless sleep.

——

One night, you and your flatmate encountered an asshole at the station.

“Nice bit of skirt, that.” He leers at your flatmate.

“Fuck off, you prick!” You shout back without breaking stride, not caring he was bigger than you. This confidence was new to you. Or was it anger?

When you arrived at the music venue, your flatmate told Soap what happened, you couldn’t hear them as the music was loud and you were at the bar. You could see the look of concern and regret on his face. He stormed over to you and he pulled you into a bear hug.

“Thanks for taking care of her,” he says to your temple. He releases you but keeps his arm around your shoulder as you wait at the bar, his weight is comforting and protective. He then helps you carry the drinks over.

He adds “I’m sorry Gaz and Cap couldn’t make it, paperwork.” You’d heard that one before but this time you gave yourself the benefit of believing it.

During the gig was a slow acoustic song that hit a little too close to home so you snuck out to the toilet to wait it out.

But you could still hear the music as you leaned against the stall and picked at your nails, doing breathing exercises you’d read about, through your tears.

——

You began to feel like the only man in your life. You even treated yourself to a massage because the touch deprivation reached a fever pitch.

You scroll through the website trying to find an available masseuse. Their headshots were small but you were on the lookout for a man with a thick neck and prominent traps, you knew the silhouette you were looking for. Your masseuse didn’t have a Mohawk but he was close enough that when you closed your eyes, his hands, his pressure and weight became Johnny’s.

——

You were invited again to a party with the squad, moods were good but there were hints of them being away for an extended mission. While you heeded what Soap said about Price, you wanted to know it from the horse's mouth. You bantered with the Captain, and he bantered back, at first. It turned to flirting and you playfully slapped his bicep, joking that you could drink him under the table, knowing well enough that you couldn’t. You ignored the looks from Gaz and Ghost - it’s like they knew something you didn’t. And they did.

You found yourself outside with Price. He’d asked only you to come outside, you felt giddy at the prospect of him wanting to be alone with you. He was smoking a cigar, you stared at the lit end, hoping it revealed some kind of secret you could finally be privy to.

It was cold outside, bitterly cold.

“You’re a lovely girl, y/n, you’re, smart, pretty, ballsy,” he says, almost to himself. You’re immediately familiar with the tone. What came next would hurt. Your breathing quickens and there’s a pit in your stomach.

“I’m not in a place where I can give you what you want, what you deserve, darlin’.”

The alcohol seemed to dissipate from your system. Rejection was one hell of a way to sober up. You look down at your shoes and chew your lip to stop it from trembling.

You knew better than to beg, to make compromises, to ask for a chance. Nothing would convince him. Maybe another woman could. But not me. So you turned to humour because it was safer than being vulnerable.

With wet eyes and wobbly voice than you couldn’t hide, you say “so you think I’m pretty?”

He hits you with a look that you’ll never forget.

“In another life-“ he quietly began.

You cut him off, agreeing, “in another life.”

You both went indoors and you summoned a smile from the deepest recesses of your being. You left early that night.

——

It was with bated breath that you left your room ready for your date. You were in a beautiful outfit that did wonders for your confidence. You spun around a few times in the mirror.

Johnny was at the foot of the stairs and he looked at you with his big blue eyes, you’re sure you saw his pupils grow. Your phone buzzed but you ignored it because you enjoyed being under his gaze.

“Look at you! He’s a lucky lad!”

“Wait, let me see!” Your flatmate's voice came from the kitchen.

Your phone buzzed again. You pull it out to see a stream of texts from your date.

“Oh you look gorgeous, girl!” You barely hear your flatmate. Blood rushes to your ears.

You read out the text message.

“Sorry can’t make it, hungover lol.” You sound distant, as if it wasn’t related to you.

“Fucking prick.” Soap says with no hesitation.

“Y/n…. Babe.” Your flatmate pulls you into a hug but you’re limp and embarrassed.

“Fuck it, I’m going out anyway!” You exclaim, pretending to be okay you practically rush out of the door.

The door shuts behind you. You want to cry but you squeeze your eyes shut and start to walk towards the station. You don’t last long, your vision is wet and nose runny. You end up at a riverside cafe, watching the world go by without you. What a shitty year, you tell yourself.

——

You hear a hushed conversation a week before Soap is due to leave for a few weeks. You kept your headphones on and nodded at them when you walked past, giving them privacy.

You wish you could be in someone’s inner circle, but instead you were grateful you could float around theirs. You put a mental reminder in to take your flatmate to dinner while Soap was away and to keep her from watching the news.

——

“Turn it down!” You yell at your flatmate while you go to answer the door, the radio is on blast while you both cook.

Through the peephole you see the unmistakable beard of Captain Price.

“Oh John, hi!” You can’t hide that you’re happy to see him. But then you notice his grave expression.

“Hi love, sorry to come by unannounced,” he’s standing straighter and his smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “Is your flatmate around?”

“Yeh, come in.” Your stomach drops. You didn’t need to call out, your flatmate is already by the door.

“No,” she recognises the look.

“I’m so sorry, love.” Price says quietly.

“Oh god no!” She cries out and sobs, her entire body shakes.

You put your arms around her but your eyes are on Price, wet and unflinching, waiting for the confirmation of the news.

His blue eyes are overcast and tired, he nods and looks down.

“We’ll have to take you onto base if you wish to go through matters,” Price says quietly. You helped your flatmate get her coat on, understanding that you couldn’t go with her.

Price dropped her home later that night, you plated up some food for her but she couldn’t eat. You hugged each other on the sofa until one of you fell asleep first.

It felt like Soap would be bursting through the door with his infectious energy at any moment, but the silence was deafening.

——

You weren’t invited to the funeral as it was behind closed doors. You didn’t know what to do with yourself, you went from crying to intense panic attacks to bouts of guilt. You missed him, you missed his presence. You thought about the way his eyes would light up when you suggested shots at the pub, how he’d walked you both home and how safe you felt. Sure he wasn’t holding your hand but for a moment, you felt wanted, taken care of and significant. You felt terrible for mourning someone else’s partner so deeply and intimately.

Price came by a few times in the next few months, sometimes you were home, sometimes you weren’t. When your flatmate finally came out of her room, her eyes red and complexion weak, she would walk around the house like an apparition.

“I can’t do this without him!” She would plead, “I miss him so much.” You rubbed her back, silently wiping your tears, telling her you were sorry, over and over.

“John came by today, he sends his best.” She says.

“Bless him,” you say quietly, trying not to read too much into it, because all the meaning you longed for wouldn’t come.

“You never told me what happened with you both that night.” She asks, brows knitted in concern for you while her heart was shattered.

“Soap was right about him.” You said, “and that’s okay.” You breathed, hoping the more you said it the more you would believe it.

——

‘What cannot be said will be wept’ you read the quote over and over, you’d seen it online and it immediately brought Price into your mind.

His visits became less frequent, but he came by again to check in with your flatmate. He looked like he was carrying the world on his shoulders and you wanted nothing more than to pull him into an embrace and comfort him.

“Come in, she just got in the shower, want a tea while you wait?”

It had been 6 months since the news.

“How are you holding up?” Price asked.

“M’okay, trying to be there for her as best I can.”

“I know it isn’t easy for you either.” He said, “you’re doing good by her, you’re a good friend.”

Guilt and shame rushes through your system, you didn’t feel like a good friend.

“He was so good to her-” you start to sob, hands across your mouth, willing it to stay inside so you never have to confront how you really felt about him.

You’re surprised to be suddenly in his embrace. John consumes you, you’re completely surrounded by him. You grip his jacket, afraid to let go. His right hand rubbed your shoulder blades and his left hand held onto your waist tightly.

“I’m sorry love,” he whispered, “and I’m sorry I wasn’t good to you.”

“You don’t have to apologise for anything John, you haven’t done anything wrong.” You sounded throaty.

“I made you believe in something I couldn’t give you.” His voice is quiet, you feel it against his chest.

“In another life,” you manage to sob his phrase back to him, he can feel you inhaling hard, trying to catch your breath.

“Another life.” He says back, kissing your head.

“Take care of yourself, John” you say with a ragged voice looking straight into his eyes. You grab your bag and push past him out of the door. You can still see his sad eyes in your mind.

Immediately you regret leaving while he was still available and present. But then you think if he wanted to say more he’d have done so. Life is choices, he made his choice. And I wasn’t one of them. Your legs take you away from him, into the bitter cold.

#cod fanfic #captain price x female reader #captain price x y/n #captain price x you #john price x female reader #john price x y/n #captain price x reader #john price x reader #john price x you #john soap mactavish #soap cod #soap x reader #codfanfic

31 notes · View notes

katerina-marie · 2 days

Text

Bathtub Confession (Eres Tú)

Sukuna x Reader

Part 3 to this

The one where you learn that certain confessions don't always have to be romantic, but others certainly do.

Word Count: 5.7k

Notes: Part 3 of my Sukuna x Reader celebrity!au. Takes place directly after part two. Song of inspiration: Eres Tú by Carla Morrison

Content: bandmember Sukuna x actor female Reader (referred to as such, but left descriptively vague), no y/n, manager Nanami, bodyguard Toji, actor Gojo, found family vibes, some angst, fluff, crack, humor, out of character Sukuna (he's so fluffy), suggestive, maybe lightly explicit, tho no sex actually occurs just yet (sorry), so please avoid accordingly.

-------------------------------------------------------------

“Should I change my name?”

A beat of silence. A drop of water.

“No.”

“Should I get a wig?”

Another beat of silence. A clink of glass on tile.

“No.”

“Should I flee the country?”

A minuscule half second of silence.

“Not if you’re going to quit paying me,” Toji grumbled.

His response made the frown on your face dip down further on your lips, and you rolled your head against the back of your porcelain tub to stare at the ceiling.

“Is that all you see me as?” you whined, “A paycheck?”

“You want me to lie?”

“That’s it, I’m going to drown myself.”

That gets a long, heavy sigh from your bodyguard and you can hear him readjust himself on the chaise lounge seated in the middle of your expansive bathroom before he carries on.

“First off,” he grunts, “no you’re not. That would require me to pull your sad self naked from the tub, and we both know we don’t want that. Second…you know you’re not just a paycheck.” Toji goes quiet for a moment. “I’d like to think that we’ve become a sort of family over the last couple years, you, me, and Nanami. Shoot, even Megs too when he’s around.”

His soft confession brings a smile to your face, and you turn your head to the right to look in his direction from behind a large mahogany privacy screen. It stands tall, wrapping just barely around the ends of your tub where your feet and head lay, keeping you securely tucked away from any prying eyes. It found its way there long ago, because this wasn’t the first time that Toji had played therapist from his dedicated chaise while you lounged in a hot bath and the two of you shared a bottle of wine.

“Thank you,” you whispered to him, “I’m grateful you’re my friend…and my family.”

“Don’t worry about it, I know you are. But don’t go on getting too upset or sentimental just because you’ve had a rough day. Things haven’t been that bad,” Toji said, and you groaned at the reminder.

After finally arriving home safely—no thanks to you—Toji immediately went into damage control mode and spent the afternoon fielding phone calls and text messages, though nothing too serious had been blown your way yet.

You had received a none-too-pleased email from the producer of the movie you and Satoru were co-starring in, accusing you of sabotaging the release by not waiting to reveal your relationship with Sukuna until after the movie premiered in a few short months (as if he couldn’t tell that what happened today wasn’t by choice). Luckily, Satoru swooped in with his sweet-talking words and buttered the producer right back into promising extra money for a job well done. Though Satoru’s idea of fixing things was convincing the producer that the only premise that sold better than a classic love story was the angst of a good ol’ fashioned love triangle, and he was more than happy to play the jilted lover dead set on winning you back. You wondered what it must be like to live in such delusions.

What really put the cherry on top of a bad day was the text you received from Sukuna shortly after arriving home. It wasn’t anything particularly worrisome, a straight to the point, “I’ll call you this evening, busy smoothing a couple things out, x,” but it had you in a fit nonetheless. After sending a quick affirmation back, you threw your phone across the couch in your living room and flung yourself onto the nearest surface to bemoan your miserable existence. Toji was not amused when that nearest surface happened to be his chest, and he only offered you five minutes of soaking his shirt with snot and tears before he drug you upstairs to your bedroom, turned on the hot water to your tub, and shoved you into the bathroom with a promise to return with wine if you quieted down for just a second.

So here you were, an hour later, soaking under a mountain of peppermint scented bubbles while you toed at the hot water handle at the end of the tub.

“You think if I begged hard enough Nanami would let me come stay with him for the rest of his vacation? I’m afraid I’m in need of a tropical escape,” you told Toji, already calculating in your head how quickly you could pack your bags and be on the next plane to Malaysia.

Toji chuckled, “No, I don’t think he would, considering he refused to tell us anything more about his trip other than what country he’d be in and when he’d be back. You showing up would take seven years off his life. Add three more if he opens up the door to you sobbing like you’ve been all day. Besides, running away to another country just because you’re afraid to talk to your boyfriend is a cowardly move.”

You ‘tsked’ at him for calling you out on poor behavior and slouched further down into the hot water in shame-filled defeat. Instead of wallowing in it further though, you popped your ankles up on the rim of the tub, tossed your arms back to hang behind your head, and clapped twice to get Toji’s attention.

“Another glass of wine, please,” you mocked in as snobby an accent as you could manage.

“What do you take me as? I’m not your damn butler,” he complained, but you could hear the quick successive cracking of his back as he stood up from the chaise and stretched.

“Just one more and that’ll be it, I promise.” You considered what else could entice him into doing your bidding. “I’ll let you be done for the evening and take the day off tomorrow if you also bring me a plate of cheese and crackers, please.”

Toji was silent before letting out a begrudging “fine” and shuffling out the door without another complaint.

You marveled in the silence, nothing but the occasional lap of water as you adjusted yourself in the tub to break it. After a few minutes, however, you realized the absence of conversation was the perfect environment for your thoughts to run unhindered, and that was not something you cared to partake in at the given time. Trying to concentrate on anything else though was futile, and perhaps trying to wade through your own head for a few minutes would leave you feeling better when you chose to pointedly ignore it once your butler…ahem, Toji, returned with your snacks.

Besides falling on national television—and underneath Gojo Satoru nonetheless—you had a particularly difficult time deducing from yourself what exactly about the accidental revelation of your relationship with Sukuna caused you so much embarrassment. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to be associated with him or that you always intended for the relationship to remain secret until it had reached its course; your desire was quite the opposite, actually. It was a feeling best left to baser animals and bedroom activities, but the idea of staking a claim, proving that he belonged to you in a way, was not unappealing and not something you could talk your way out of thinking, especially with the world the two of you lived in.

If you got down to it, the real problem lay in your unfortunate habit of caring what people thought. You didn’t want Sukuna to see you as childlike, only a few years younger than him in age but miles behind in maturity. You didn’t want him to view today’s incident as a misfortunate foreshadow into the “what if’s” of your relationship. Neither did you want the world looking at the two of you and questioning how exactly something like it came to be. Where Sukuna was all sharp angles and dark colors, suave nonchalance and carrying a presence that demanded to be seen, you felt painfully opposite. You wouldn’t self-deprecate and believe that you were unworthy of standing beside him, but just cognizant of how different you felt. More like something that could be just as appreciated, but more likely to be overlooked and favored over something brighter. A “mismatched pair” is what they would call you, something that struck you so vividly that the pressure in your chest increased ten-fold. You knew he would hear it, see it, be made aware of it, and while he may not agree right away, you wondered how long it would take for the sphere of influence to get to him too. The anticipatory grief (as your actual therapist called it, usually followed by anxiety) of waiting for someone you valued so much to realize that he had better options was enough to make you consider running away from the whole thing entirely.

And that’s how you came back to scheming your departure from the country. If you hurried, you could probably towel off, pack a bag, and slip out the back before Toji realized (you wondered if the big oaf had decided to take a nap instead of bringing you snacks for how long it’d been since you last heard him). Surely Nanami wouldn’t abandon you in your time of need if you were wailing at him over the phone in the airport of a foreign country.

But alas, you heard your bathroom door open, effectively cutting off any means of escape.

“It’s about time, Toji. What took you so long?” He neither spoke, nor took another step. “Eh, no matter. Bring me my snacks, please.”

Footsteps continued again and before you could chastise Toji further, a voice spoke up from right behind your privacy screen.

“Should I be concerned with the normalcy of your bodyguard attending to you while you’re naked in the bath?”

The shock of hearing Sukuna’s voice caused you to jolt, sending your legs into the water with an unmistakable splash and leaving you to scurry back into a sitting position from where you had slipped dangerously close to submerging your whole head underwater. The indecency of it all would kill you if this conversation that was about to happen didn’t.

“I assure you,” you started, hoping you didn’t sound as wrecked as you felt, “it is not nearly as salacious as you made it out to be.”

Sukuna hummed. “Really? Because it sounded as if you were expecting him, and when I ran into him downstairs he told me to tell you that he would be back up to deliver wine and cheese shortly. Sounds like a romantic evening to me if I’ve ever heard one.”

You were relieved to hear a hint of amusement in your boyfriend’s voice, but horrified at what he was saying.

“Please stop implying things that’ll make me gag.”

Sukuna chuckled, but was quiet for a minute until, “You have five seconds to tell me to stop before I move this privacy screen so we can talk face to face.”

You shot upwards, looking around hurriedly as you tried to scrape the remaining bubbles in the tub to strategic places in order to maintain your dignity, though you realized a moment later that it was probably unnecessary. With a second left, you brushed tendrils of your hair away from your face and wiped your thumb across the top of your lip to remove any remnants of a wine stain from your skin. In the next, Sukuna was pushing aside the privacy screen and looking down at you with a blank—but not unkind—expression. You eyed him warily as he walked up to the edge of the tub and dropped a cushion from the chaise Toji was sitting on earlier to the floor. He settled himself down onto it and then placed his elbow on the edge of the tub so he could lean in close to you.

“Hello,” you whispered to him, settling both your arms down next to his and then resting your head against them. A small smile crossed his face.

“Hello to you too.”

You were surprised at the lack of tension in his face, no clenched jaw or heavy brow to be seen, and as you trailed your eyes further down his torso you noticed its absence there too. His shoulders were relaxed, and his chin was cupped in the hand propped up on the tub so he could gaze at you with those unnervingly observant eyes of his. You wished he’d been wearing a t-shirt instead of the thin navy turtleneck he currently had on so you could focus your stare on the black tattoos decorating his body. Aside from being intricate, and distracting, they always gave you something to look at when meeting his eyes felt like too much.

The tenderness of Sukuna’s knuckles meeting your temple forced you to look back up at him, only to see that he was following the path his fingers were making over your skin. They grazed over your cheekbone, feathered down the bridge of your nose, and then were skimming over your mouth, his thumb catching ever so lightly on your bottom lip. His hand didn’t linger there, and it was quick to skate over your jaw before his thumb landed under your ear and the rest of his fingers tangled in your hair while his palm cupped your neck. With a slide of his other hand up your arm and down your back to press between your shoulder blades, Sukuna brought you close enough to him that he was able to reach the rest of the way over the tub and kiss you. His lips remained pressed against yours for a second or two before he broke away, hesitated, and then leaned in to do it once more, twice, and a third time.

You were the one that put space between the two of you, sitting back in the water and drawing your knees to your chest. You desperately needed to inhale without smelling the crispness of his aftershave or the spiced warmth of his cologne, both of which were guilty of making your head spin.

“You’re not mad at me?” you asked, breaking the silence before he had a chance to, before you lost your nerve. You watched as his head tilted slightly to one side, his expression a touch befuddled, but full of disbelief.

“Why would I be mad at you?” He questioned slowly, moving himself to his knees on the cushion so he could go back to resting his arms on the tub.

“I don’t see why you wouldn’t be,” you told him, your voice a bit sharp. “I inadvertently told anyone with access to the internet that we were dating, without even talking to you about it, and then proceeded to flee the scene like a coward instead of getting back out there to present myself as confident enough to own up to my mistakes. Not to mention the fall with Satoru right before. It’s embarrassing. The whole thing made us—me—look like a giant mess!”

Your voice cracked on the last word, and you bit down on the inside of your cheek until you tasted iron. Sukuna looked pained, and he reached a hand out to play with your fingers as they sat at the top of your knees.

“You’re not a mess,” he said, rubbing his thumb in small circles over the middle knuckle of one of your fingers, “and I’m not embarrassed either. I never intended to keep us a secret, and I’m not trying to implicate you when I say this, but I don’t think I ever implied doing so that evening.”

“Well, yeah,” you huffed, the twinkle in his ochre-brown eyes and the mischievous grin on his face as he hinted to the night the two of you cemented your relationship into the category of “official” making your face get warm, “we didn’t do a whole lot of talking after that point.”

You tried to jerk your hands out from under his to cover up your cheeks, but Sukuna was unrelenting in his hold, and you gave up before continuing on, “I know you never implied that you wanted to keep our relationship hidden, but that’s been the theme of whatever we’ve had going on these last ten months. We were sneaking around from the very beginning, we lied about it to Yuji and Choso, and then let’s not forget about the whole incident of being caught by Satoru,” you pointed out to him, feeling the slightest bit smug when he looked chagrined.

“I apologized for that,” he reminded you, his voice tone faintly defensive. You squeezed his hand in comfort.

“You did, and I’m not upset about it.”

You took a deep breath and cast your eyes everywhere except Sukuna, taking in the details of your bathroom as you tried to muster the courage to share your insecurities with him. He never let his attention on you deviate, and between that and the heat of the water you had been in for almost two hours, you were beginning to feel lightheaded, and everything finally came rushing out of your mouth.

“I feel like we’re mismatched! It feels like everytime someone looks at us, they’re going to wonder why, like we don’t fit well together. And I’m not saying I believe that, or that you would believe that, and I know this whole thing sounds ridiculous because it is ridiculous, but it’s hard to get outside of my own head about this when I already love you so mu—,”

The startled look on Sukuna’s face is what clued you in to the fact you had said something you had not intended to. You snapped your mouth shut with an audible click of your teeth and used your feet to push away from him and to the otherside of the tub, wrenching your hands out of his grasp.

If someone asked why you never liked to talk about your feelings, this was why. Why the words that came out were never as eloquent—or as sane—as the thoughts in your head was something you’d pay so much money to figure out. And Kento was about to have no choice in letting you hide out with him for the rest of his vacation because you were no longer asking, and if he was interested in keeping his job he would do so without complaint. Even so, you considered that forcibly releasing Kento from the grip of a career that was so wrought with overtime would be another mercy for the overworked sal—,

“You know what I think,” Sukuna murmured, bringing you out of your own head to focus with rapt attention on the blissfully contented expression he wore. His fingers curled around the tops of your arms as he reached out to slide you back to his side of the tub, and when you were close enough again, he pushed his nose into the plushness of your cheek to nuzzle there affectionately. You were transfixed by a small tan freckle on the edge of his eyebrow that you somehow hadn’t noticed before.

“I think this whole time you’ve been so focused on pleasing everyone around you—which isn’t necessarily unadmirable, I promise—and treading with extreme care to take into consideration my feelings about our relationship that you haven’t noticed what’s been going on…or I haven’t been doing a very satisfactory job of making it apparent.”

He said the last part more under his breath, but didn’t give you a chance to interject with an objection before he carried on, making intently sure your eyes were on his. “From the very beginning, even when all I had of you were fleeting touches and secret meetings in questionable places, I was always bound to fall in love with you.”

You didn’t know what to say, what to think, and trying to wrap your head around the fact that what you considered to be one of the worst days of your life was ending with unintentional confessions of love in your bathtub wasn’t helping. So you did what you could and traced a finger down one of the tattoos under his eyes, hoping he would keep talking.

“We aren’t a mismatched pair,” he insisted, his eyelids fluttering slightly at your gentle touch, “I think we compliment each other quite well, so please, don’t try to hide or run away.” He fixed you with a pointed look that told you Toji had warned him of your current status as a flight risk, and you ducked your head slightly and in a way that you hope conveyed repentance.

“Because you must know, I will always be chasing after you.”

You wasted no time in hurrying to crush your lips against his and throw your arms around his neck, because what else was there to do when words couldn’t suffice, other than to surrender to the melding of bodies?

Sukuna reciprocated in fervor, breaking apart from you only to stand up from his place on his knees, and reached down to cup his hands under your bottom, lifting you out of the tub and securing your thighs around his hips while his mouth found yours again.

He seemed to care not that you were dripping water on the floor and soaking the front of his clothes from where you were pressed tightly against him. He stumbled back a couple steps until the back of his knees made contact with the chaise, and the two of you fell back onto it. Sukuna adjusted you to straddle his lap, his hands clasping at your hips while your hands scrambled down his back to pull up his shirt. You ground your pelvis down against him as he dropped his head to mouth at your neck, and the rough groan that elicited from his throat had you deciding that your bed was too far away to justify taking time to separate, and that the convenience of the chaise was worth going to the trouble of having to buy Toji a new one. You had no more than let the thought flutter through your head when an obnoxiously loud knock resounded through the bathroom.

“You two haven’t drowned yet, have you?”

Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

Sukuna ripped his lips away from where he was sucking a mark into the space where your shoulder blended into your neck, and met your gaze with one that dared you to intervene.

“Don’t even think about it,” he growled, using the grip he still had on your waist to hold you in place while he rolled his hips up into yours, and you prayed that the moan you let out wasn’t as loud as it sounded. Even if it was, you hoped Toji would get the hint and make himself scarce.

“Look, I get it,” your bodyguard remarked, sounding both amused and vaguely uncomfortable, “but it’s kinda, maybe important.”

With both the mood dashed and your anxiety spiked again, you patted Sukuna on the shoulder in a bid to get him to let you slide off his lap. He rolled his eyes, exasperation—and lustful desperation—painted clearly on his face, but he helped you down without giving you any grief and grabbed a black fluffy robe from where it was draped over your privacy screen. He held it out so you could thread your arms through it, and then he proceeded to tie the belt securely around your waist.

“Come in, Toji,” you called, moving to sit on the chaise while Sukuna came to stand at your back.

Your bodyguard waited a moment before opening the door, peeking his head around first and then sauntering in with his normal arrogance to lean against your bathroom counter just a couple feet in front of you.

“Glad to see that nobody’s drowned. There’s only one of you I’d be willing to do mouth-to-mouth on,” Toji joked, clearly proud of what he had come up with. You felt Sukuna’s hands come to rest on the tops of your shoulders, his fingertips digging into the muscles lightly. They relaxed when you bought one of your hands up to twine your fingers with his.

“So, to what do we owe the interruption?” you asked. The amusement on Toji’s face vanished, and in its place came weariness.

“I just got off the phone with Nanami, and—,”

“You called him?!” You yelped, springing up from your seat, “I begged you not to!”

“Whoa, Whoa,” Toji cautioned, raising his hands up in a surrender, “easy with the accusations. He called me. He knew.” And before you could open your mouth to ask how, Toji’s expression darkened and his eyes flicked up over you to glare at Sukuna. “Uraume called him.”

You whirled around to look at Sukuna, who—thankfully—seemed just as surprised by the news as you did.

“I didn’t ask them to do that,” he assured you, then turned to Toji, “did Nanami say what they wanted?”

“Just to talk about the whole situation, more or less. Nanami said they only talked for about ten minutes, but they’re planning to discuss things more when he comes back in five or six days.” Your bodyguard sighed and crossed his legs as he leaned back further against your counter. “He was nearly ready to hop on the first plane home, but I managed to convince him to finish his vacation. Told him it’d damn near break your heart if he came back early.”

You plopped back down on the chaise, bone tired and completely ready for this whole day to be over.

“Thank you, Toji. I’m sorry for jumping down your throat like that.”

“Don’t sweat it, Princess,” he said, pulling a vaguely familiar set of keys out from his pocket and pushing himself off the counter to walk towards the door. “You two going to be okay if I head out? I have some errands to run and then I’ll probably crash at Megumi’s tonight instead of the staff quarters.”

You nodded at him, sending him off with a wave before shifting to look back at Sukuna.

“Stay with me?” you pleaded. He answered with a kiss to your hair, and then offered his arm so you could stand from the chaise. He followed after you into your bedroom, and the faint flutter of clothing made you glance back over your shoulder. Your heart began to race at the sight of his bare chest, tattoos displayed in full glory. You must have made some kind of noise because he looked up at you from where he was draping his shirt over the back of a lounging chair in the corner of your room.

“I hope you don’t mind,” he said sheepishly, “my clothes are wet.”

You shook your head, tugging your bottom lip between your teeth as you watched the muscles in his back flex as he bent down to push his jeans to the floor, leaving him in simple grey underwear. There must have been something written all over your face as he began to walk towards you, for he was reaching out to pull you into him as soon as he got close enough.

“I’m tired, Sukuna,” you warned as he pressed your cheek to his chest, though you wondered if you could muster up the energy to continue where the two of you had left off in the bathroom. Surely he would make it worth your while.

“I know,” he told you, voice light and good-natured, and he tightened his arms around you briefly before stepping back and nodding in the direction of your bed, “why don’t you go get comfortable. Toji left your snacks on your dresser. Want to finish them off before bed?”

With a grateful nod, you turned to leap onto your bed, sitting down in the middle and wiggling with excitement as Sukuna came to join you. He sat the tray of food and wine in between the two of you and crossed his legs underneath himself before picking up a piece of cheese and offering it to you. You smiled in thanks and began to nibble on it while he surveyed his options.

“Mhm,” you started, an errant thought popping into your head, “I’m assuming since Uraume knows that Yuji and Choso know now as well?” Sukuna raised his head slowly from where he had been studying the various snacks, and the hint of guilt on his face wasn’t confidence inspiring.

“They do,” he drew out, observing you carefully, “they were both watching the interview with me.”

You groaned as white-hot embarrassment flooded your body, and you fell back against your pillows, grabbing one to shove over your face to muffle the bitter laughter you couldn’t control. “What do they think?”

“It’s nothing you should be worrying about,” Sukuna said, suddenly sitting by your head and lifting the pillow off your face to set it above your head, “you know they adore you. Choso was his normal, level-headed self. He’s happy for us. Yuji was just as ecstatic once he got his laughter under control, if a bit disappointed that we hadn’t told him.” Your boyfriend paused, his face darkening suddenly, and you watched with interest as a muscle feathered in his jaw.

“What?” you asked, pushing yourself back into a sitting position and poking him in the arm to urge him to explain. He shook his head, clearly annoyed.

“You know what that little shit said immediately after? He thought that you and Gojo had been secretly dating and were waiting till after your movie was over to say anything.”

Obnoxious laughter erupted from you, and you hurried to slap your hands over your mouth to try to conceal it as Sukuna’s face fell.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you rasped out in between giggles, unable to stop it as you watched Sukuna sit back against your pillows with a huff and a crossing of his arms.

“The little idiot is just dense. And delusional. Anyone could see that you and the q-tip don’t have any real chemistry.” He sounded an awful lot like he was trying to convince himself of the truthfulness of his own statement. You wondered, affectionately, at which brother was a touch deluded. You were a fine actor, thank you very much. And you were about to open your mouth and say so when something ‘plinked’ off the window next to your bed.

Strange. Your bedroom was on the second floor.

Sukuna jerked his head up, all traces of humor forgotten, and the two of you listened for the noise again.

Plink.

“What the hell,” he muttered, pushing off the bed so he could go inspect the noise, “stay right there.”

You appreciated the concern in his voice as he began to lift the window pane open, and he had just begun to stick his head out to look around when something small smacked him right between the eyes, sending him butt-first to the floor.

“Sukuna!” you gasped, rushing over to kneel by his side and lift his hand from where he had it pressed to his forehead. You didn’t get a chance to fawn over him any further before he was up on his feet and striding to your bedroom door.

“Be right back,” he growled, throwing the door open and cursing all the way down the stairs.

You heard something land next to you on the floor, utterly perplexed when it turned out to be a rock from your flower beds. You got up and tiptoed over to the window, just barely lifting your head over the pane as to avoid becoming another victim of a flying projectile, then shot to your feet when you caught sight of a familiar white-haired costar outside beneath your window.

“Satoru!” You screeched, dumbfounded by his mere presence and the way he waved up at you, completely unbothered, “How in the world did you get through the gate?!”

“Hey! There you are!” He called, with a lazy grin on his face, “that’s not really important right now.”

“I would disagree!” You yelled back down to him, making a mental note to have Toji go over all the security points around your property after his day off. “What are you doing here?”

Satoru laughed sarcastically before the smile on his face suddenly disappeared, and he propped his hands up on his hips. “Where is my car?”

No. Way.

“You’ve got to be kidding me, Satoru.”

“Nope! Give me back my car. It’s one of a kind!”

You groaned, reaching up to massage the burgeoning headache you could feel at your temples. “Are you sure it’s not out there in the driveway? Toji left just a bit ago, so you shouldn’t be boxed in or—,” you cut off when the memory of your bodyguard twirling an unfamiliar set of his keys around his finger as he left your bathroom flashed across your memory.

Oh god, that absolute bastard.

Satoru must have caught the horrified look on your face, as well as how you suddenly stopped talking after mentioning Toji because his face blanched even paler than usual, and his voice was two octaves higher in distress when he hollered back up at you.

“Does that criminal have my car?!”

You deserved a vacation at this point.

“I’ll call him in the morning, Satoru, I promise. And I’ll make sure he washes it for you or whatever you want, just come back tomorrow.” You hoped placating him with the prospect of torturing Toji would convince him to leave, but no, he still stood rooted to his spot down below.

“As fun as that sounds,” he mocked back up at you, “I can’t.”

“What do you mean you can’t?”

He looked a bit like a toddler caught with his hand somewhere it shouldn’t be. “Suguru dropped me off and then left in a hurry. He said he had something to do.”

You couldn’t believe that the universe thought that pairing those two together in any capacity was worth the absolute chaos they unleashed on the poor, unsuspecting population.

The slamming of your front door caught your attention, and you figured your boyfriend was about to make himself known.

“Look,” you sighed, backing away from the window slightly, “you can borrow one of my cars and swap it tomorrow when Toji brings yours.” You ignored Satoru’s protests and started to close the window. “Just apologize to Sukuna for hitting him between the eyes with a rock and he’ll open the garage for you.”

You caught the confusion on Satoru’s face, and just barely heard his panicked remark as you shut the window.

“Oh, fu—.”

-------------------------------------------------------------

Whew, that one took it out of me, not gonna lie. Angst and I are not friends.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #ryomen sukuna #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x you #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #gojo satoru #toji fushiguro

24 notes · View notes

saelique · 3 days

Text

chapter one. ignorance is bliss

˚｡⋆୨୧˚ tw + cw ノ dark content・character death・graphic descriptions of gore + blood・mentions of nausea・reader implied to have put fyodor on a pedestal・overall kinda not suitable 4 all audiences・12- are highly recommended to not interact

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈・⟡・┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

𓂃 ࣪˖ 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐀𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐒 the library floor as two children sat behind a bookcase, reading a novel together.

the evening light shone through the window and the sun prepared to set. but the two were still immersed in their own fairytale world, away from reality.

the boy whispered the words in the book, while the girl turned its pages, the sound of paper repeatedly flipping every few minutes gently was comforting.

it was really the perfect spot to relax. the perfect amount of golden light and it was warm in the late autumn season, where leaves began to turn yellow, red, and orange. leaving trees bare and naked.

“so what happened next ?” the little girl urged when he paused for breath, pressing closer to her friend to try and read the printed foreign words on the book. “be patient.” he gently scolded, but all the same continued the fairytale.

“the prince then went on a far, far journey to search for his beloved, and he suddenly-“

three knocks on the door. “young master ? your dinner is almost ready, please come out to the dining room to eat.” a maid called through the wooden door. and the children were brought back to reality, the fairytale world fading away once again.

“eh ? already ?” the girl sighs, her lips forming into a pout. “I’ll read the rest of the story for you soon. so don’t worry, okay ?” the boy reassured. “I’ll be back soon. so feel free to keep on reading, okay ?” he reached over and ruffled his companion’s hair lightly, messing it up.

“hmph ! you better keep your promise !” “of course.” and with that, he left, leaving the girl alone in the library.

years passed, and autumn passed and winter stopped by, snowflakes falling down rapidly. truly a shame that the young master couldn’t go outside to play in the snow. after all, he was too sickly a child to even move too much.

the Dostoevsky family was truly one that is easy to pity. a frail and ill heir, a absent father that was away for work, almost never home, and a mother that lost her own mind and even called her own child the devil.

you blew your hot breath against the ice frosted window and drew shapes on it, small hearts and stars.

it was freezing today, and fyodor was most likely in bed, having yet another high temperature fever.

you missed the crisp days where you two would just sit down and read books together. it was a wonderful thing to experience, and you sometimes fell asleep on his shoulder, his voice lulling you to rest after a long day of cleaning and helping to tend to him.

Slowly, the snow melted away, leaving the earth to slowly grow back its plants and flowers. spring had finally arrived. the birds sang happily, their songs cheerful and pretty.

time passed and from a little girl who ran around and hid away from her chores, you turned into a mature yet aloof young maid, always forgetting about her duties.

you changed, while Fyodor stayed the same. he was still the calm, collected, mature and reliable young master he always was.

you thought he was perfect, with his pale and soft skin, pretty magenta eyes who would soften whenever he sees things he likes, pure black hair that was left quite long, and a slender figure.

you always thought that he would look beautiful as a girl, and you did tell him once.

you remember him staring at you in shock before gently patting your head. “I suppose I would.” he agreed, and returned back to reading his book while you left his room after giving him his medication that the doctor prescribed a while ago.

you really did think he was perfect.

running a orphanage for the less fortunate children, going out for visits when he could in town, a popular social figure.

but that very image of him shattered like fragile glass, breaking into millions of little pieces, never able to piece or fix again.

Because you had witnessed him push down a new maid down the stairs.

it happened too quickly, in a flash. So much so you still cant believe if you dreamt of it or not. they were both just chatting by the stairs, the maid blushing and giggling while tucking her dark brown hair behind her ear.

then she was shoved down, the sounds of a heavy object dropping down the floor. red painted the wooden steps, some of it slowly dripping down the steps, creating a gorey sight.

you felt your blood turn ice cold and sweat ran down your face, hands and neck, swallowing your saliva before running away, suppressing the blood curdling scream that was itching your throat, before quickly shoving the apron you were wearing into your mouth, you rushed back to your room as quietly as possible, trying to process what just happened moments prior.

digging your nails into the palm of your hand hard, creating small crescent moons as you shook and trembled, teeth chattering as you squeezed your eyes shut, shaking your head to clear the horrible, horrible image that imprinted on your mind.

you quickly breathed in and out, feeling as if your heart would burst out of your chest, dizziness and a headache starting to form.

was that really the same person who would read you fairytales and laugh at your horrible jokes ? who would constantly cover up for you ?

you wanted to throw up, a feeling of unease and a feeling of nausea in your stomach as you lurched, instinctively slapping your hand to your mouth as you shuddered.

you should really stop thinking so much about this.

clumsily getting up from your cowering position from the floor with the help of leaning on your bed, you managed to stumble through the door and leave, making sure that no one saw your disheveled and nervous form

making your way to the garden with a little trouble, you arrived there with a sigh.

“[name] ! c’mon ! help me with these weeds !” svetlana called, snapping you out of your dazed trance, holding a basket of weeds, her hands sore and red from the pulling.

“hm ? you look really sickly [name] are you okay ?” svetlana asked, worried as she placed the back of her hand to your head, staring at your complexion.

“n-no- I- uhm- well- I-“ you stuttered over your words as you felt tears almost threatening to spill over, biting your lower lip.

“wha-? hey, hey, it’s okay [name], calm down/ I’ll fetch-“

“maybe she’s suffering from heatstroke ?”

a cool and kind voice interrupted the both of you. you stiffened, your pupils dialating as you shakily turned your head to reveal who you wanted to avoid the most.

“hello, surprised to see me ?”

he smiled, one that radiated of innocence and kindness. one that made you sick to your core. how many times had he attempted murder ? how many people had he killed ? judging by his act, it wasn’t his first one. Fyodor then coughed into his handkerchief. A few droplets of blood on it that was most likely his.

oh god what if you were next ?

you had to live. you can’t die yet. you didn’t even get the chance to go to the capital and have fun. and that romance novel you’ve been reading, how many chapters have you read ? oh yeah. you just started ! and the plot twist ! you’ve been saving it for days !

“oh ! young master ? aren’t you supposed to be in bed ? and I suppose . . . today is a hot day after all.” she sighed, before gently taking your arm. “mmm, stay safe you two. thank you for working hard today as well. I’ll see you around.” and with that, he went off to god knows where. Probably to hide any evidence leading to him.

“I’ll bring you a wet cloth, how about that ?” svetlana kindly suggested, while you sat there in silence.

the day ended with you in bed, staring at the ceiling blankly. you ended up finding that corpse again with svetlana when the both of you headed to your room. Only when you saw that body this time did you let out the scream that was begging to be heard. you kept on shaking, seeing the mass amounts of blood and and everyone ended up concluding that it was a accident. that maid had quite a reputation for being clumsy after all.

you sighed and closed your eyes, letting sleep catch up with you and catch you in its embrace.

you woke up hyperventaling. tears streaming down your face and sweat clinging onto your nightclothes. it was still too early, with the sun only starting to rise and the dark night sky fading to a lighter colour. Your heart thumping more and more as you tried to take deep breathes in.

Who knew dreaming of being murdered would feel so real and scary ? the time for you to head up to his room arrived and as you took the tray, the feeling of nausea filled you. you wanted to tell someone, to confine in someone close like svetlana.

but no one would believe you. you couldn’t even believe it yourself. now every trip to deliver him medicine was only going to petrify you, your legs shaking as the floorboards creaked and twisted under your steps.

the only reasonable thing to do was to avoid him of course. but how long could you keep this up without him noticing. his eyes that usually provided you comfort now only added to your paranoia, that he would one day decide to murder you.

why would he even kill you though ? there wasn’t any reason to kill that maid after all. she never made any trouble or inconvenienced anyone. so, what was his goal ?

you shuddered as you walked up the stairs. it was best to feign ignorance. then run the fuck away from this hell hole the second you gathered enough money.

ignorance truly was bliss wasn’t it ?

you were so going to shoot yourself in the head if you see another goddamn murder again. holding the tray tightly, you placed it down the floor and knocked.

“young master ?” you gulped, “I’ll leave your medicine here. I’ll go now.” drawing in a sharp breath, you ran away as fast as you could, before he had the chance to open the door or reply.

you needed to get out this place quickly before you get killed in the worst way possible. and fast.

“hm ? she already left ?” a young man muttered, before bending over to pick up the tray that was placed on the floor. “she didn’t see what happened yesterday . . . right ?”

“I’ll have to kill her before she tells anyone then. just to be safe . . .”

just be wary and be on your fight or flight mode at all times, okay ?

#౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆ : novels !#bsd x reader #Fyodor x reader #dostoevsky x reader #fyodor dostoevsky bsd #fyodor angst #fyodor dostoyevsky bsd #bsd x reader angst #bungo stray dogs x reader fluff #bungo stray dogs #bungo stray dogs x reader #bsd fyodor

48 notes · View notes

cocogum · 3 days

Note

how long have you been watching wakfu

Hey moth ✨✨

I’ve actually been watching Wakfu since 2012.

The first time I heard about it was when I used to have Netflix and even then, that was back when the streaming platform didn’t have Season 2 yet lol

What drew me into watching it was mainly cuz of the cover. This one specifically 👇

It used to only show Yugo opening a portal and because of the style, it made me wonder what the story could be about (at the time I used to think Yugo looked pretty cute so that was also another reason lol).

I remember how my first instinct was switch the language to English when I first watched it. THAT WAS THE BIGGEST MISTAKE OF MY LIFE. The reason why I switched it for english tho was because netflix was primarily English so I thought that the French language of Wakfu wasn’t the main one (and I thought it sucked without even taking a second to listen to it 💀 ) Thankfully, as soon as I heard Alibert and Ruel talking, I IMMEDIATELY went back to the settings cuz I knew I fucked up. I ain’t listening to this trash again lol

So I switched it to French and i realized it was a thousand times BETTER than the English version. That’s when I realized Wakfu was french.

I loved the places and the people. It was something I’ve never seen before. The French dubbing was so smooth and funny I loved it so much. The “fillers”, which let’s be honest weren’t actual fillers, were also so fun to see with the whole gang.

Even at the time, I used to believe there would eventually be something between Amalia and Yugo lol cuz ain’t no way you guys constantly hug like this for the dumbest reasons.

When Season 1 ended, I really hoped they weren’t gonna do us like that because I really wanted a season season. At the time I didn’t think ankama already did Season 2 (since 2011 💀) cuz I thought Netflix was always on time so it took me some time to wait for it but a year passed by and it finally got here!! I was so happy that day you had no idea. I had to wait for a whole year before it dropped so my ass was pretty much traumatized after seeing Dally die for the first time I legit thought that he was gonna come back cuz of Nox’s machine but nope 💀 I remember being so sad when I first saw that ending. I really didn’t want it to end, I got too attached to these guys (Amalia was still my favorite back then cuz she was too relatable)

So i watched Season 2 in 2013 AND I LOVED IT. Again, they couldn’t disappoint me. It just got better from that day on.

That’s when I slowly started to dig deeper into Wakfu because there were so many references to things that Yugo and the others were saying that I didn’t even understand. I then learned that Wakfu was based on an MMORPG with the same name,Wakfu, and that there was a prequel to it, Dofus. I also saw how they even had a side story called “Mini Wakfu” which were just shorts from Season 1. I watched that mini series on youtube back then.

Because of Season 2, I was now sure that there will be more to it because so much has been said and yet so little has been explored. So I waited, bought myself some time by watching other shows.

That’s when the ovas happened.

And oh my god I was not ready for it.

The ovas released in 2016 on Netflix but had already been a thing since 2014. Blame Netflix.

And again, there were so much more references that made me feel so confused like who Otomaï was, Ogrest (who was only a giant mention in Season 1 to me), Maskemane, Echo, Sipho, Harebourg, etc.

I was confused but so intrigued because it made me learn that the Krosmoz was A LOT BIGGER than what I thought it would be. And that’s what I like. I love how a story has multiple timelines, has complex strange plot holes in certain places that makes you want to become a theorizer, has so many diverse characters and relationships. Things like those are why I fell in love with the legend of Zelda and fnaf franchises.

That’s how I learned about the mangas, comics, different games (Dofus, Wakfu, Krosmaga, Dofus touch, minor Dofus games on the App Store, etc.) as well as cancelled games (Islands of Wakfu, Wakfu: Les Gardiens, etc). I even started learning more about the Dofus era by going through Dofus shows like “Dofus : Kerub’s Bazaar”.

Right after the ovas, I watched Goultard’s special episode, Ogrest’s special episode, and Nox’s special episode. Then, I saw the Dofus movie featuring Joris and his mom before watching the show. After, I read the wakfu manga that was supposed to situate itself between Season 2 and the ovas. At the time, there were only four volumes so I binge read them all on a google drive that someone was kind enough to share publicly (that google drive doesn’t exist anymore). All of this happened in 2016 btw.

After that, I waited for more news of Wakfu but my dumbass got sidetracked because of binge watching other shows while waiting. I was joining multiplie fandoms while unconsciously waiting for more of Ankama. And that’s how I missed Season 3 that came out in 2017 💀💀 I’m so dumb my god all I had to do was wait another year but noooo youtube had to show me the new season trailer in 2018 instead!

I went back to Netflix, freaking the hell out, binge watched the whole season, got emotional, loved Oropo for kissing Amalia cuz I knew there’d be drama, absolutely adored the whole percedal family being a family, trying not to laugh at Adamaï’s look for the first time, expecting Ruel to get hard over money, and LOVED the drama between Yugo and Amalia. I WAS A FAN OF THEIR SHIP SINCE SEASON 1 FOR CRYING OUT LOUD which is why I was so happy that we finally got to see so much more of their problems being addressed.

After that, I knew I needed more so I went back to reading comics. I bought the actual volumes 1 to 4 of the wakfu manga (because I wanted to have a physical copy of them even though I already read the story) and then waited for the fifth one. As soon as volume 5 released in 2019 (July 4), I TOOK IT FROM AMAZON’S HANDS CUZ VOLUME 4 WAS KILLING ME WITH IT’S ENDING- (I’ve been waiting since 2016, I wasn’t gonna wait any longer).

In 2020, I joined the best wakfu amino on the amino app, and then mainly went looking for Ankama related things like their anime Radiant (I started reading the manga first and ABSOLUTELY LOVED IT FOR ITS ORIGINALITY. But I still can’t believe that it got released back in 2013 tho…) and then watched the anime that came out for it (the opening song was good but I hate how the anime changed some things to the story. The manga is better but the anime gets its fair share of popularity so I guess that’s good).

In 2021-2022 I think that’s where I heard about the kickstarter for Wakfu Season 4 and I was mind blown when I saw the trailer for it.

In 2023, I bought Ogrest’s volumes 1 to 4 because I’ve been waiting to read and know more about Ogrest and what was the deal with the Sadida dolls since I heard about those from some people. My god the manga was so good!! I’m still waiting for that volume 5 but I’m extremely certain that it will come very soon now since Mig, the illustrator for the Ogrest manga, has been giving small sneak peeks here and there lately. It was also in the same year that I learned about the One More Gate game and watched Oropo’s special episode.

Then came 2024. And that’s where I went ape shit. Now you know everything ✨

The latest thing I bought from Ankama shop in 2024 now was the standard version of the Amalia figurine, the vinyl disc pack containing Krosmoz osts, and the Wakfu S3 artbook (tho the artbook was actually not something that you can find in the Ankama shop. I had to dig deep on Amazon and find a seller willing to give it away).

So yeah my history with Wakfu is a pretty messy one and has always been all over the place mainly because I was so slow back then to realize when the releases were happening and how the lore was actually constructed lol

Like it took me so much time to understand that Wakfu was only one piece of a bigger puzzle set and being unaware of so many things back then is still something I tend to regret. I understand that it was because I was still a snotty kid back then who didn’t know much about the internet but I can’t help myself to think how easy it was to keep up the pace 💀

At least I won’t have to think I’m late anymore because I’ve got a better idea of how it all works now.

Wakfu has been playing a huge part in my life because it’s always been at the back of my mind no matter what fandom I was in at the time. Sure, it was at the back burner but I never had the intention of forgetting about it. It holds way too many memories of the simpler times and has a lot of great ideas I think I’ve never seen other shows have.

30 notes · View notes

the-witch-of-one-piece · 2 months

Text

Congrats to Monkey D. Luffy!I’m so proud of him and all his accomplishments. He never gave up and is still fighting!!! Oda did amazing job with his character!!! OUR FUTURE KING OF THE PIRATES

#congrats luffy!!!!!#I’m so proud of you!!!#we all are!!!#monkey d luffy #monkey d. luffy #luffy #one piece #one piece luffy #best main character of the year!#couldn’t have went to another character!#Crunchyroll #Crunchyroll anime awards!!!!#one piece monkey d luffy

260 notes · View notes

el-im · 2 years

Text

nico called today and I told him it was a good thing he didn’t end up coming over bc I’m laid up in bed w a 104 degree fever and feeling like all hell and he was like. oh I’m so sorry to hear that. so when can I see you ?

#and I love him #captain's log #I’ve been sleeping in 1 hour intervals since 3 in the morning when I woke up and was in so much pain I couldn’t go back to sleep #so I took a shower and made some tea and soup then went back to bed #only to wake up an hour later and have to pee so I’d do that and make another cup of tea #and that happened over and over again until now which is 1:20 pm #and I’m dreading the nighttime because I know it’s going to get so much worse and I’ve already taken two showers today just to stand in hot #water for an exorbitant amount of time. and now I’m like. maybe I should take an epsom salt bath because I feel like I can’t fucking move #anyway ! mia—who got me sick in the first place—was good enough to go to the store and grab some orange juice and soup so I love her #and interestingly. what I really wanted to talk about #was the fact that in the weird intervals of hour-long stretches of sleep #i dreamed like 8 or 9 episodes of star trek strange new worlds #which. i have not seen an episode of. nor have I seen any of the short treks or discovery so I have no concept of who any of these fucking #characters are beyond what I’ve seen in gifs/a trailer or two #but they were weirdly detailed.#in one spock and hemmer (hemmler??) were competing in a chariot race #and their wheels were made out of warm colored crystal that was orange in the center and graduated into a pink quartz like color at the edge #and hemmer transfigured himself secretly into a serpent when they were riding their chariot next to another one #and he scared the shit out of the rider and they veered off course #at which point he was flung through the air and became himself again #in another one because he has psychic abilities #he had to sacrifice himself by connecting with the psychic creature that was controlling the ship #and only through entering that thing’s mind and destroying it from the inside out was the rest of the crew freed #this also had to do w the episode where they were all in like. fantasy gear and were being forced to act out one of the literary works (?)#of these higher dimensional beings ? Like puppets #*puppets #idk if that’s what was actually happening in the episode because again. i have not seen any snw #but he died basically at the end of that ep by infiltrating their mind and freeing everyone #so

5 notes · View notes

elfindreams · 4 months

Text

I’ve been dipping my toes into larp which is very great but also like. Especially with oneshots, what are you supposed to do when you’re still attached to a character but the story has ended and the made-up world they inhabited and the other characters who they’d interacted with no longer exist, so they’ve just Ceased To Be, where are those feelins supposed to gooooo

#admittedly the LARP today was uhhh. weirdly not well-written on several levels and I’d be iffy about playing other games by the same author #and the basic story premise was pretty dark in the first place #but we worked with it #and BOY OH BOY things went places #like the characters were all in a dungeon awaiting their execution in a few hours #for having been servants to an evil sorcerer even though some of them weren’t even working for him by choice #lots of arguing going on + debate over someone possibly snitching on the sorcerer’s apprentice to the guards in exchange for freedom #and/or how the loyal ones might help the apprentice character escape #my guy was in total despair for quite a lot of reasons but then formed a very sweet but brief and doomed bond with another prisoner #when she got the chance to escape alone he did what he could to help and spent their last few moments coaching her #on how to hide her identity and survive and find somewhere to live in the outside world #then he tried to save himself plus another character who was just a kid and didn’t deserve to be there but both couldn’t go #so he saved the kid (or at least did what he could bc there was no way of knowing if they actually got out)#and paid DEARLY for it but was totally at peace while lying on the dungeon floor as a bloody pulp because at least he’d done something good #his last IC words were something like ‘’I did what I could. I did as much as I could. I’m ready to meet god now’’.#also bc of magical fuckery as explicitly described in the rulebook it’s totally unknown where his friend ended up or whether she lived #we decided that she probably maybe hopefully survived though ;—;

1 note · View note

tteokdoroki · 7 months

Text

ೀ⋆OCT 16TH CLUELESS ━━ megumi fushiguro + step-cest !

୨୧ — caution, you are now watching. megumi fushiguro + step-cest. are you totally buggin’ or is your college-goer, goody two shoes step-brother kinda into messing around with you? (7.6K)

୨୧ — rated r. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact ! nsfw, heavy smut, dark content, characters aged up to 20s, college!au, enemies to lovers (?), step-cest, photos, videos, fingering, choking, praise kink, panty sniffing, body worship, riding stuffed animals, daddy kink, soft sex, unprotected sex, bimbo-ish + fem!reader, step-brother!megumi fushiguro.

୨୧ — director’s note. lets gooo another kinktober installment! i actually haven't written for megumi in ages and this is kinda long so...i hope this is okay? sorry this is late btw, please enjoy! <3 - m.list ⋆ kinktober m.list ⋆ taglist ✧

let’s get one thing straight.

not all daddy’s girls are dumb.

on the contrary, you’re actually highly intelligent and thoroughly educated — graduating at the top of every single one of your classes in high school, despite negotiating a fair portion of your grades with your teachers. after school, however, you couldn’t quite figure out what you wanted to do and everyone else you knew spent their time growing up around you. daddy wanted you to go to college, get your degree so you could find your footing in the world…he would even pay for it too.

but like every other twenty-something year old girl your age, you were completely and utterly clueless about the direction you wanted to take.

perhaps that was the reason as to why your step-brother, megumi, annoyed you so much. indoctrinated into your family unit of two (yourself and your father, of course) — megumi had joined you to play happily-family when his mother married your father. their fast-paced union didn’t last long, however, for your parents were quickly divorced by the new year…and apparently, you can only divorce people. not children. meaning that your older step sibling had decided he would much rather stick around for the long haul.

it could even be said that megumi fushiguro was an even bigger daddy’s boy (or kiss ass) than you were a daddy’s girl. he went to college on daddy’s money, ate on daddy’s money and got jobs using daddy’s money and power. now, he’s some big time hot shot at an environmental law firm and it irks you just how much your father is pushing for you to be just like megumi. in everybody’s eyes, your step brother was the picture perfect child, an example to follow, a fine gem.

and since your father liked that so much; likes how responsible and diligent megumi is — it would explain why your older step-brother could get away with sneaking up on you in your own house (favourite child privileges). “what are you all dressed up for?” the husky lilt to his deep voice sends shockwaves through your system and a shiver down your spine, making you jump away from the fridge you’re rummaging through.

“a party.” you say frigidly. the dark haired male makes a face and you roll your eyes at him in a disapproving manner. as if megumi was in any position to judge you for your plans and late night endeavours. he was a boring old college student clinging to his younger step sister whilst you were doing society a favour and helping your friend get together with the guy she liked.

it’s what you do! helping the less fortunate instead of studying for some boring piece of paper and graduate degree.

you were such a good person.

turning away from the cool air and dull hum of the fridge freezer, you tuck a few juices to be used as mixers for the party into your bag — ignoring the heaviness of your step brother’s admiral blue gaze as it slips over the curve of your waist, the expanse of your thighs and the bounce of your chest peeking out from your skimpy little get up. it’s funny, how you’ve never liked the way boys have looked at you in the past — but something about the way he drinks you in as if you’re the last glass of water on the plant makes your legs shaky and your breath turn short and…

“can i come?”

with his lips pressed into a thin line and his emotions hidden behind the perfect mask of his perfect face — megumi slams the fridge door shut, to make you squeak again. his brows raising expectantly while he waits for your answer. “a-as if fushiguro.” you huff in annoyance, jabbing the older step-sibling in his shoulder as he towers over you. “aren’t you too old for house parties? i wouldn’t want you to cramp my style.”

“i’m not that much older than you.” he laughs, it’s melodious sound sending a warmth through your body.

rolling your eyes, you snap back. “you’re old enough.”

you make yourself small as you pass by him, attempting to escape his suffocating presence. he makes you feel weird, and you don’t exactly hate it — sure megumi is annoying, snarky and a little mean but he’s… attractive, like next level attractive. he’s got those dreamy sea-storm eyes that make you feel as though you’ll die and go to heaven, a sexy smirk that gets you hot and bothered even if it’s not directed at you. all of your friends have had crushes on your step brother at some point, ones that cause jealousy to brim just under the surface of your skin, pricking you like a thousand tiny needles. your jealousy totally doesn’t have anything to do with you trying to hook your friend up tonight by the way (lying to yourself makes you feel better).

however, feeling this way about megumi is wrong, nowhere near normal. anybody could have told you that — it’s just that your family relationships make things complicated and you don’t want to make this weird between you both. you’d never admit it, but you do enjoy the back and forth sibling-like banter the two of you have. would ruining that be worth it? even if your step-brother was like…everything you’d ever wanted in a guy; not like those snot-nosed, unhygienic, monkey-brained losers you used to go to school with.

instead, megumi was smart, established and with his future practically set in stone. maybe that’s why you picked on him, why you acted like a spoiled brat whenever he was around, why you pretended to despise his every existence and wish he’d never become a part of your family. because megumi constantly reminds you of your failures or what your future could be if you put your mind to it and actually tried.

“maybe, college guys like me wouldn’t seem like such losers if you actually gave furthering your education a shot,” your step brother cuts through your thoughts, stalking behind you with his hands in his pockets as you leave the kitchen and head towards the foyer — getting ready to head out for the party. “just do what your daddy wants, angel. go to college, get your degree so he can get off my back and you can be smart like me. yeah?”

“and why would i listen to you?” there’s nothing you can do to shake him — your older step brother tailing you as if he’s your own personal guardian. he stops walking when you stop walking, bumping into your back, while a shocked whimper lays flat on the seam on your lips.

megumi passes you a jacket (which you slide on by yourself) whilst he chuckles again, the sound rumbling in his chest and through your body pressed hotly against his. “‘cause i’m your big brother.” his voice is almost scolding, playfully so, holding a darker tone that you almost recognise as lust whole his larger-than yours hands force their way down to the fat at your waist. “now c’mere, let me fix your outfit. can’t have you goin’ out like this…” megumi squeezes your hips, using his grip on them to spin you around so that you can face him.

you expect him to tell you to cover up more — that your pretty white dress is too short and that you’re too promiscuous. what you don’t expect is for the dark haired male to sink to his knees before you, soft and attentive fingers sliding up your inner leg to fix your thigh-highs as that have slipped down. you barely manage to choke back a needy moan.

he doesn’t let up on the eye contact either; only serving to fog up your pretty little head. “s-step brother,” you manage to remind him gently, finding your voice.

fushiguro rolls his eyes, poking his tongue into his cheek. “that was your take away, pretty girl?” he doesn’t stop touching you, going as far to peek his head up your skirt — pretending to finish fixing your socks despite the subtle press of his nose against your panties and pinging them against your backside once done fondling you. “there we go, better.”

he even goes as far to pat your bum in accomplishment too.

you feel pathetic for letting your step brother touch you in such a taboo way, failing to push megumi off. but he’s never been so bold and you’ve never wanted him more — craving megumi through an insatiable burning in your chest. there’s always been a sexual tension brewing between you both, fuelled by your banter, your rage and mischievousness but how could you act on it?

megumi was practically family. your family. it would be weird. you couldn’t be anything more without crossing the line of what’s deemed acceptable and what isn’t for step siblings. you have to remember who he is to you, an older brother, a menace to your friends who crush on him and someone who had called you selfish once upon a time.

finally snapping back to reality, you force yourself away from the tendrils of your step-brother’s grip — swiping your purse from the entryway table and storming towards the door. “you’re buggin’ gumi!” you squeak from the porch. “stop being weird a-and stay out of my room!”

the door slams harshly as you vacate the property in favour of the party, practically running down the steps with a rapid shake of your head. doing anything you can to rid yourself of all thoughts concerning the enigma that is your older step brother.

the party doesn’t help, and instead ends up a total disaster.

your plan to set your friends up completely falls apart when your ex-best guy friend decides to make a move on you on the way home and drops you off in the middle of nowhere after rejecting him. to top it off, some asshole robs you for your fendi purse at a gas station and makes you lie down on the ground in your matching designer dress!

the whole ordeal nearly reduces you to tears and forces you to call the one person you’d been trying to forget about all night. megumi.

he picks you up without a word of protest, but you swear that you can feel his disappointment radiating off of him in thick, asphyxiating waves. “please don’t tell daddy,” you had sniffed, eyes big and teary. and megumi can’t bring himself to blame you or to be mad at you because you’re so sweet and sensitive and a little too good for this world. that and you have no idea how much seeing you cry fucks with his head.

“you’re a smart girl, baby.” he’d replied softly — though his eyes were hard and his grip on the steering wheel even harder, indicated by the white of his knuckles. “you shouldn’t be messing around in places like this. it’s exactly why you should be in college.”

like the good big (step) brother he is, fushiguro sneaks you back into the house without a word to your watchful father. instead, he spends the rest of the night comforting you with silly cartoons to heal your inner child. deep down, it means a lot — usually the two of you would argue over control of the remote, and he would always win. this time, megumi lets you be.

“i don’t think i’m cut out for college,” you sigh after a moment’s silence, ren and stimpy providing the backing track to your vocalised thoughts. “‘m not much aside from my pretty face.”

fushiguro rolls over so that you lay side by side, nudging you with his elbow playfully. “what would you do instead?”

“i dunno,” growing bashful, you tuck your face into your shoulder — afraid that he might laugh. “start a fashion business, give people make overs? i think i’m good at that.”

“you’re good at a lot of things, angel. and making people feel god about themselves is one of them,” rather than belittling your dreams, tearing them down like you’d expect — megumi encourages you, flashing you a small yet supportive smile. “you take care of people.”

flustered by his praise, you lean into megumi’s side — playing footsie with him at the end of your bed shyly. “you’re better at taking care of me, though.” you whisper, nearly missing the way his eyes drop to your lip-gloss smudged lips.

“yeah? s’what big brothers are for, right?” he whispers back, a breath’s width away from your lips, nose inches away from nudging yours as if he’s going to kiss you. he wouldn’t be your step-brother if he wasn’t so full of annoying surprises, instead of pulling you into a lip lock — megumi grasps at the remote on your other side in an attempt to change the channel to something more boring and scholarly.

you protest in the form of a sibling play fight causing you both to roll around in the sheets — fighting for the remote or perhaps dominance over the sexual tension that thickens the air. heat rises throughout the room and your wrestling turns to megumi pinning you to your babyish pink sheets, straddling your waist. he grips your wrists, clasping them together between his large, veiny hands and forces them above your head.

everything happens so quickly, yet so slowly and all at once. one moment you’re fighting like siblings do and the next — megumi fushiguro is finally kissing you, tongue lapping at the crack between your parted lips from where you’ve gasped in shock. tasting every ounce and every essence of the remainder of your gloss, breathing weightily into your mouth as if it’s a relief to have it pressed against his own. you swallow everything he gives you and drink up his saliva as it pools into your mouth to the point where your head spins and you feel like he’s spiked you with arousal.

this is wrong, on so many levels. as if you would ever make out with your step brother. but this isn’t some kind of twisted dream, it’s a reality you find yourself basking in. you pull megumi onto you by the roots of his dark hair, mewling each time your lips slot together perfectly and whining when his hips start to jut down to meet the softness of your tummy. or when his large hands push and pull at sensitive parts of your body.

“you’re nothin’ like those college girls.” he tells you once you break apart for air. megumi’s nose nudges your cheek and his kisses dive lower into the crook of your neck while he waits for you to catch your breath. “you’re softer, prettier, you’re—“

he lets go of your wrists.

tilting your head back into your plush pillows, your shaky fingers tangle in the dark, unruly curls of your step brother’s baby hairs. “i’m what?” you tease through a series of pretty little moans, like music to megumi’s ears. you feel him twitch against your inner thigh and the temperature of his body spikes to a sweltering degree.

“perfect.” his rough tongue swipes over your prominent collarbones and over the fabric of your dress, slipping under the crevice where your breasts meets your rib cage. using his teeth, fushiguro pulls down your dress until it inches off of your shoulders, revealing more of your skin marked with scars, beauty and stretch marks. it comes off easily, exposing you to a pair of hungry, murky blue eyes. the dress remains bunched at your middle.

you must be tripping out — you’ve never seen this look in your step brother’s eyes before. he stares up at you, lips swollen and breath ragged, as if you’re the last meal on earth he’ll ever get to taste. the sexual tension was never obvious to you, and while you’ve always found megumi weird — it didn’t mean you disliked his company.

“quit staring,” you whine, arching your back into megumi’s touch as it drags across your searing flesh. “it’s weird…you’re making it seem like it’s a bad thing…”

he yanks down the front of your dress, smooths down the valley between your breasts and over your tummy as they rise and fall with each of your baited breaths. “you don’t like it when i look at you, pretty baby?” then suddenly, his thumb slips back over your naked nipple, curling your sensitive areola before applying a gentle pressure that makes you jolt up the bed. “there’s nothin’ bad about you.”

fushiguro’s grip runs down to your sides like an easy stream of water, grasping at any flesh he can while simultaneously pulling your hips up to meet his — slotting perfectly against your body to make sure you can feel how hard he is for you. “i’m not like those college girls you’re usually into…” comes your shaky whisper. “‘m too dumb.”

it’s weird, megumi’s never made you nervous until now.

“no. you’re smart, you’re perfect… you deserve more than the guys that you’re into. you shouldn’t waste your time.”

his steady hands slide over the curve of your ass, dip beneath the hem of your dress to play with your doughy thighs and every note of his praise is sung over your quivering body.

“so what?” you go on, stepping into the dark to explore whatever the fuck this is with your step brother. “i should waste it on college boys like you?”

the tail end of your words are lost in a gasped breath as megumi nudges a knuckle against the crotch of your underwear — chuckling softly at the wetness that pools in the seat of them. “you would be if you came with me.” a sort of sick and twisted expression, morphs on his handsome face. one that’s usually so stoic and unreactive to your whines and mewls. but this version of megumi seems to like watching you squirm, revels in the way your hips buck up on instinct the further he presses his fingers between your sticky, viscous folds. “god, sweetheart. your princess parts are already so wet for me.”

heat flashes across your face, accompanied by the unfamiliar twinge of lust you for megumi you feel buzzing beneath your skin and swirling with the blood in your veins. the way he coos down at you, eyes hooded and tone condescending — it only serves to cloud your judgement and your mind. you shouldn’t be doing this. but you want to. so badly.

“shut up.” you huff and look away, eyes threatening to roll back into your skull as megumi flicks at your clit from over your skimpy panties. the more he plays with you, rubs at his little sister’s cute pussy, the more your thighs twitch apart — revealing the treasure between them to his dirty-minded gaze.

the groan that follows vibrates around in the cavity of megumi’s chest before shooting down to your glistening core as it convulses under his fingertips. “you’ll miss me when i go back, don’t deny it.” he tells you like he knows you, voice horse with growing desire. “you should really come with.”

you scrunch your nose up at his request — of course he would choose now of all times to be annoying and tease you about college. “as if, megumi.” you warn, though it’s hard to stay mad at him when he presses two fingers against your spasming entrance, azure eyes darkening at a stream of your arousal dampens your panties — defining the shape of your puffy folds even more.

“yeah, yeah. i know, baby. not the time, huh?” megumi hums in amusement, gaze flickering up to your face to watch it twist with euphoria as he continues to pinch and rub at your cunt until your chest is heaving. “you want it that bad. wanna be touched so bad. pretty girls like you can’t do anything without their big brothers...” while he rambles over the drool replacing logical words on his tongue, your step brother pulls his hand away from your sex briefly to push past the lace scalloping on your underwear and access your wetness. “all this, ‘cause of me?”

“all ‘cause of you.” you breathe the words out like they’re air and nod shyly at your own admission despite the high pitched, babyish tone. to let your stupid older step brother know how much he affects you is embarrassing, borderline humiliating, but you can’t help but fall into him. megumi rewards you with two fingers stroking their way past the tight ring of your entrance, curling instantly to explore your gummy, oozing walls and locate the exact spots that make you tick.

he presses a chaste kiss to your sweaty cheek, body hunched over your shaky one as if to shield the scandalous sight from the world. his little sister split open on his fingers, drenching him in her scent and her slick as fushiguro scissors them and fucks you silly. “mhm, that’s my girl. so nice for me and my fingers. i like you better this way,” he slurs, long and dark lashes (ones that you’d die for) fluttering against your skin as his digits move faster and faster within your selfish, ribbed walls. “when all you can do is cry and make those pretty noises, instead of being a little brat to me all the time.”

fushiguro pauses his ministrations, forcing you to wriggle and writhe and chase your pleasure for only a moment. “m-megumi!” your hips jut upwards in an attempt to coax some friction out of him, anything on your pulsing clit or against your pleasure spots dotted along your insides. “p-please. fuck, gumi— i need it.”

he only smiles, his thumb finding your clit and his fingers pick up the pace — bearing down on your g-spot with every thrust into your tight heat. “that’s what i like to hear, none of that back talk. just your pretty voice, beggin’ for me.” he sweet talks you over the dirty, lewd and squishy sounds from your thoroughly fucked cunt as they ring out into the sex tainted air. they form a chorus with your hiccups and pathetic bleats for more — and if your body is a choir, megumi fushiguro is the conductor. he guides you to the gates of heaven, feeds you pieces of pleasure from the grapevine of sun and you let him.

because he’s your big (step) brother, and you trust him after all.

“fuck, you’re so pretty. could watch you make a mess of me all night.”

the bricks bliss build up in your lower tummy, cemented together by megumi’s relentless fingers pumping in and out of your slick sex. you’re the perfect vision, a sight to behold — darling gem eyes shiny with tears, tongue tied to the roof of your mouth by strings of saliva and your body doused with a glimmer of perspiration. your step brother can’t help but create a copy of you grinding against his hand on his mind. filing it away for later.

pulling his fingers from your selfish heat, megumi brings his hand down against it in a harsh slap — his entire body shuddering at the surprised wail you let out, and the stream of juices that fly up his arm as a result. “ooh, baby. what a pretty noise you just made.” he laments with a rough voice, soothing over the spank with soft flicks to your swollen clit. “can you do that again for me?”

he doesn’t give you the chance to answer, spanking your pussy again, and again and again until his head is heavy with the sounds of your broken moans and your panties are soaked all the way through — darkened by the running two of your sweet honey nectar that allow his slender fingers to slip back inside you with ease.

they tease at your stimulated walls and push and pull your tight little hole — and you swear you can practically see the stars that line the night sky with every new sensation. fushiguro is in no better state, cock painstakingly hard and straining against the insides of his sweats while his cool midnight eyes drink in the way your hips stutter and struggle to keep up with the pace of his digits inside of you.

“‘gumi… i think i—“ your words escape you, drowned out by your own pussy as it squelches around megumi’s fingers.

he kisses your forehead, contrasting my soft compared to the way he stretches you open and preps you for his cock. “i bet that feets good, huh? you feel like you’re gonna cum.” his tone turns into a mocking one, deep enough to send shivers down your spine and threaten to knock down the wall of mounting pleasure in your lower gut.

tears teeter over the edge of your waterline, streaking a hot path down the apples of your angelic cheeks as your hips lift off the bed — chasing the high only your big brother could give to you. “feels so good, p-please let me cum, ‘gumi.”

you look to him for reassurance and permission, hiccuping as megumi pulls his fingers out of you to trace from your clit and down the length of your juicy slit. pride swirls in his blazing chest when your body jerks at the sensation, hips running after the source of pleasure. you’re such a good little thing, so pliant and naive — following after your step brother no matter what he does to you. maybe you’re right, maybe you’re a little too dumb for college. but it doesn’t matter right now, not with the way your creamy entrance clenched down on fushiguro lovingly, pleading with him to let you cum.

you’re so close and he knows it, he’d have given into you if he weren’t trying to make this last.

“actually, i want you to do something for me.” he stops right before you’re about to burst, dragging his fingers out of your pulsating pussy to smear your wetness across your tummy and thighs.

a babyish blubber bubbles up on the swell of your pouty lips, coated in a layer of salt from your free-flowing tears. “w-what? m-megumi! i was so close!” you say in a petulant manner, squishing your thigh together and trapping his hand between them as if to coax him back into making you cum.

“so spoilt, more like.” your step brother bites back, almost punishing you by removing his body from yours so that he can rid himself off all of his clothes. he tosses them off the bed, but not before pulling his phone from his sweatpants and setting it to the side.

you swallow thickly when his cock springs free and slaps against his washboard abs. megumi is lengthier than he has girth, his balls heavy with an incredulous amount of seed saved up just for you. his tip is pink, almost bright red but coated in a layer of pre that’s no doubtedly smeared along the inside of his sweats but it’s a delicious sight to see nonetheless.

now you really must be bugging. you’re most certainly clueless to have never thought of megumi this way before today.

your throat bobs when he grabs hold of his rock hard shaft, hissing at the first few lazy pumps he gives himself. “i want you to do something for me. then i’ll make you cum.” fushiguro proposes gruffly, locking eyes with you carnally. “put on a show for me princess, ride one of your cute little stuffed animals over there so i can make a memory for when i go back to college.”

his ask doesn’t register in your pretty little head, and megumi figures he might have left you dazed from withholding your orgasm. or maybe you’re distracted by the way in which he fists his cock, spreading webs of milky white up and down his shaft and over his mushroomed tip with each movement. you hardly notice the fact that he’s reached for his phone, setting it to record using his free hand.

“you hear me, pretty… fuck…girl?” he curses in a low moan, squeezing himself.

this time, your attention shoots to his face while your tongue darts out to wet your lips. “y-you want me to… fuck my stuffie?”

you ask megumi so innocently, head tilted to the side like a sweet little puppy dog and he swears he might bust to you right then and there.

“fuck…yes.”

“and you won’t touch me?”

“not until i’m satisfied, princess.”

and like the bratty little sister you are, dress pushed down to your middle and makeup askew, you huff at your step-brother — all while grabbing your favourite and biggest stuffed bear to tuck against the ruined treasure between your thighs.

“you’re so fuckin’ mean, ‘gumi,” you try to keep your cool, but you’re too sensitive — lowering your twitching sex onto the soft toy slowly. “o-oh…”

he angles the camera perfectly to record you, zooming in on your cute little cunt as it slips and slides over the bear with ease.

even beyond the camera, you’re a sight for megumi fushiguro’s sore eyes, each of your curves and dips illuminated by the glistening beads of sweat that roll over the expanse of your skin – catching the low, warm yellow light from up above. he always knew that his little step sister was pretty, practically an angel, but up until now he’d relied soley on his dirty imagination to picture the way you’d look fucking yourself for him. the stuffed toy easily disappears between the meat of your pudgy thighs as you rock back and forth over it, nudging your clit against the nose of the fluffy brown bear.

“feels good, right?” he mumbles lowly, the sound vibrating in his chest. megumi can’t help but be engrossed in your every move, the soft jut of your hips and the bite down on your plump and shiny lips, the way in which your fingers dare to dance up the salacious softness to your curves and skin. “my pretty little thing. i can see why your daddy loves you so much. you’re such a good girl, listening to everything i say.”

megumi’s words waft over your mind like a thick fog of lust, darkening every pure thought you’ve ever had. your whole body twitches at their patronising air, dopamine crackling about in your skull and shooting down to the heartbeat swirling around your fluttering hole. it gushes and gushes, like an endless stream of erotica and glazes over the apex of your thighs like the shin of a sugary treat.

one that makes your step brother’s mouth water with anticipation.

each of your sweet mewls and whistle-tone bleats run through his ears like thick honey, rotting him from the inside out. perhaps that’s what makes megumi so perverted and what makes him crush on his perfect and prim little sister, you’re a fool to have not noticed it before. how he looked at you then and how megumi looks at you now, midnight blue and stormy orbs drowning with lust. your gaze flutters down to his cock, standing tall and flushed against his creamy white skin, neglected as it leaks all over his stomach.

“oh you like that, huh? you shake so much when i talk to you like that.” fushiguro starts to fist his cock faster, matching the speed at which you shakily circle your hips over the poor stuffed animal — panting as it’s fabric darkens with your wetness. “a daddy’s girl through ‘n through.” he teases while you throw it back for his phone.

sure enough, the camera picks up his warm chocolate voice as it coos its praises to you. such a good girl. ride it out princess. all of it fills you to the brim with wanton and desire, makes you crumble before the glaring lense of fushiguro’s phone.

“s-shut up.”

“uh-uh. and you were doing so well,” your step brother sounds almost cruel, reminding you of the reasons you didn’t get along before today. acting like a school boy picking on his crush, being mean to her because deep down he knows that she likes it. that you like it. “don’t be rude baby. put on a show for ‘gumi.”

he takes to palming himself more, precum slinging across his knuckles and down his thighs the more turned on he gets. it clings to every vein on his shaft, spreads to the weight of his balls and no doubt can be heard through the camera since slick and lewd noises of the both of you touching yourselves echo throughout your bedroom. megumi does his best to keep the camera steady, but he can’t help himself — following your movements and thrusting up into his closed fist to mock your pussy while you ride your stuffie for dear life.

you’re still so sensitive, but your big brother can tell you’re trying so hard to keep up for him — fighting off your next orgasm as it builds up strong in your lower belly. you want to please megumi, at the end of the day. a smart girl like you knows “that’s it, keep it movin’ for me…god, you make me wanna cum.”

you pout at the praise, rutting over the face of your stuffed animal as you breath heavy. it feels way too good, you’re overwhelmed by too many senses and megumi watching you spill your juices about the place doesn’t seem to help. dragging a hand up to your bare chest, you tweak your nipples and tug them until a needy squeal dancing on your wobbly bottom lip — doing your very best to please the dark haired college student.

you want him to cum, want him to memorise the way your eyes roll back and your moans and quivers — you feel so beautiful beneath his heavy, desire burdened stare. “m-megumi,” you say for the millionth time that night, squirming before his very eyes while you dream on the nose of your precious toy. “i-i’m close!” your hips burn holding back you release, exhaustion and just intertwining in your veins — combusting in your lungs.

clueless. you were absolutely clueless as to how it would feel falling apart under the caring gaze of someone who loves you so much.

“yeah, pretty girl?” fushiguro hums gently, giving his cock one last squeeze at the base — cutting off the stream of ore that he dribbles from the source. “c’mere, i gotcha.” he shuffles over to you on the bed, catching you before you fall with his lips pressed to your wet babyish cheeks. “i’ll let you cum, but only on my cock. you’ve got to stay good for me, okay?”

nodding timidly, you accept a few more kisses from megumi — the ones that he peppers across your face, before he manoeuvres you onto your side and nestles in right behind you. “say you want me,” the words coast along the back of your neck and your body erupts in goosebumps. his voice will always be like a dragon breathing life into a fire. sure to be careful, megumi lifts one of your thighs and hooks it over his slender waist so that he can better access your sluice sex.

he tugs your underwear to the side with one hand and positions his cock at your entrance, sliding the length of his shaft through the strings of your arousal glueing your pussy lips together. both of you hiss in harmony when his bright red tip grinds messily against your pulsing pleasure bud. your unused hole clenches around nothing, pushing out juices as if to claim megumi.

your head rolls back to rest on megumi’s broad shoulder and you reach a hand behind you to tangle in the dark mass of his sweaty locks — keeping him close. “i need you, ‘gumi. please.” you rasp weakly as his shaft breaches your silken walls, coating him in everything your body has to offer. you spoil megumi, giving him a moment to remember before he leaves for college again.

there’s a delicious residual burn from the way his girth stretches you out causing your cunt so selfishly squeezes down on every inch of your step brother’s milky cock. with a stuttered breath, fushiguro bottoms out until his balls are pressed hotly against your ass and his seedy mushroomed tip is just grazing your womb.

“just what i wanted to hear,” he purrs into the shell of your ear — nipping it tenderly. you blubber softly into the satin pillows, prepped with a fresh set of tears as you push back onto megumi to meet the push and pull of his dick into your tight, creamy sex. “you’ve always needed me, pretty thing. my precious baby sister, relyin’ on me for everything. even this.”

your entire body burns bright with desire for megumi, you’re surprised you’ve gone this long without him before today. maybe you’ve always needed to feel his sticky tip grind against your juicy walls or his hot breath fanning against your shoulders and neck. you’ve always needed your step brother to guide you in the right direction. you’ve always needed megumi.

“f-fuck, g-gumi!”

fushiguro fucks you slow and softly, pouring all of his affections into you — letting it buzz in the sex scented air between your salt slicked bodies. his fingertips leave their paw prints along your tiger striped thighs and soft tummy, he’ll kiss them better later, but for now he just wants you to know how much he’s always needed you. “oh i know pretty girl, i know.” comes megumi’s low, bristling simper — adding to the stacks of pleasure cementing together in your lower tummy. “you’re so good, taking me just right. i’ve always known you’d be good for me.”

your back arches away from the molten centre of your step brother’s chest but he refuses to let you run from him — wrapping a strong arm around your middle to anchor you and your pussy down on his throbbing cock. “i never wanted to ruin you.” he drawls hungrily, but that doesn’t stop the salacious buck of his hips upwards and the way his hands traverse over each of your perfect imperfections. “but you’re such a sweet thing… you always have been. god, baby, you drive me crazy.”

fumbling around on the bed, megumi gasps at the phone and hits record once more — propping the device up on the nightstand opposite you so that he can remain hands free. “this body, this princess cunt… the way you grip my hair—“ as if on cue, your fingers tighten at his dark roots and tug him down for a sloppy, spit swapping kiss. “everything about you, s’perfect.”

the room spins with ecstasy and your pathetic screams die in your throat at the feeling of megumi’s abs contacting against your back, his cock hitting that spongy spot inside of you over and over again. you drip sweet nectar onto the sheets, his pelvis and his thighs — tainting him with your precious sin. everything burns with exertion and exhaustion, so you’re forced to slump against your big brother and rely on him to carry you to the high heavens of pleasure.

he doesn’t disappoint, cupping your swaying breasts as you jolt up the bed from the force of his pounding thrusts, flicking at your nipples while keeping himself tucked in your squishy insides. you’re pleasured from every possible angle and it’s all caught on grainy film for megumi to take to college when he leaves without you.

“‘m so fucking happy… t-that our parents got divorced. s-so that i can…have you like this.” fushiguro tongues at the pulse point under your ear, giving you one hard thrust to emphasise the point, it makes you jump, pushing you that little bit closer to the edge. your step brother never stops pumping himself in and out of you, hardly giving you a second to breathe between sucking on your tongue and slapping a hand down on your slit.

“aren’t you happy?” he goes on to ask, carving the shape of his dick into your raw sex. “take a deep breath for me, gorgeous.”

megumi wraps a hand around your throat from behind, squeezing ever so slightly and your glistening doe eyes tear away from the camera to focus on him. you witness the stars align in his azure orbs, the adoration they hold for you and a cry-baby wail slips from between your cherry bitten lips in response.

“look so pretty with my hand around your throat ‘n my cock in your pussy… look at that. it’s like your body was made for me.” he chimes up again, watching the drool deep from the corner of your mouth as it hangs open with dry moans, like a a cute puppy panting. “how lucky are we?”

“o-oh! gumi!” you sniff blearily, not caring that there isn’t enough air in your brain to think straight. you’re swallowing down his cock and he’s leaking fat droplets of precum against the ridges of your walls — only adding to your wetness. megumi can’t expect a single logical thought to escape you this way. “‘m s-so glad. s-so lucky! so happy! i-i love you.”

the stuttered admission brings out the worst in megumi, causing him to lose his shit. your panties are rubbing his shaft raw, your pussy’s so good that he feels like he’s fucking high, not to mention you sound so pretty he could die here and be the happiest man alive. a feral desire takes over your step brother, his snapping his hips into you so hard that your headboard repeatedly smashes against the wall.

your panties are completely soaked through at this point, equally as ruined as your cunt… but megumi doesn’t care. “love you too. my good girl, my good fucking girl.” he coos, his thrusts growing animalistic and erratic — your bodies dancing to the tune of desire as you chase release. “can you cum for me, pretty? wanna see it, bet you’re so gorgeous when you’re cumming for me little sis.”

despite being fucked brainless, you still manage to do what you’re told — your hips back onto his from their own accord, puffy pussy locking down on megumi’s base to keep him inside. “i’m close… r-right there gumi!” you choke out.

“right here, baby?” is all he manages to respond with, moaning pornographically into your sweaty shoulder while he shifts the angle of his thrusts. “wanna feel you gush all fucking over me.”

that’s all you need to hear before your toe curling orgasm comes crashing down on you like a large tidal wave. the knot in your tummy finally unravels and you break beneath the pressure of it all, waves of your juices splashing out onto the sheets and megumi’s pelvis — rewarding him for fucking you this good. you cum so hard that it’s enough to force megumi from your twitching hole, expelling a musky scent into the air.

“f-fucking shit, fuuuck me…” fushiguro stumbles off the edge not long after, using the seam of your panties to finish himself off while you twitch through the aftershocks of your high. he just barely makes it, fucking your underwear and nudging his sensitive cockhead against your abused mound until he’s filling the seat of your panties with fat globs of white hot seed. “jesus…’hmygod, baby. you’re such an angel...d-did so fucking well for me.”

he peppers you with smooches until you’re calmed down enough to be rolled onto your back. megumi is careful to pull away from you, staying close while you sniffle and come back down to earth. he babies you throughout, lifting the rest of your dress over your head and waiting until you say he can move before grabbing you a spare shirt from your dresser.

“let me see you.” megumi whispers lovingly when he crawls back onto the bed to join you. he grabs his phone from the nightstand and ends its recording, pushing your thighs apart to snap pictures of your cum soaked undies and the thick white that clings to your fat pussy lips and clit. “perfect, you’re so perfect.

“i am?” you whinge — camera shy. but you don’t tell him to stop, letting your older step brother rub his sensitive and overworked cock over your crotch, smearing the last evidence of your orgasms against you for a quick video. another one that’ll be added to his spank bank for later. “‘gumi…” you warn once you start to feel overstimulated.

he chuckles at how whiny you are, tugging your clean shirt over your head before he pulls you into his arms. “i got it, i’m sorry.” rocking you both back and forth, fushiguro kisses the crown of your head. “yanno… if you’re so serious about not joining me at college. i’ll try and convince your dad to let you stay in town. as long as you keep up your promise and try to start a business.”

your heart skips a beat, and you cast a glance upwards at your step brother. “really?”

“really. if it means that much to you.”

sleep settles heavy in megumi’s bones and on his pretty face — one you didn’t realise you loved so much. “it does! thank you, ‘gumi,” you say quickly, pressing a chaste kiss to his jaw. “m-maybe you college boys aren’t so bad.”

“oh come on now, didn’t me fucking you stupid literally just prove that?”

“maybe.”

“so you’ll come visit me at college then. since you like me so much.” fushiguro quips cheekily, narrowly missing your swat to his chest.

you roll your eyes and try to unravel yourself from your step brother’s affectionate grip, but don’t hide your smile. “ugh! as if, don’t get ahead of yourself.”

but teasing megumi further only gets you dragged back into the sheets — two sets of laughter echoing throughout the room in what appears to be another sibling fight.

except this time, you’re not as clueless.

you know that something like this, and with megumi, means something much, much more.

8K notes · View notes