#there's nothing wrong w going out w multiple guys but she's acts like it's a different guy every week. like she doesn't believe i'm telling | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tteokdoroki · 4 months

Text

THE PERFECT SHADE OF PURPLE - suguru geto.

✩ — about. “i buy her gifts like i would for my sister and she likes them. we recently fucked at her place of work, i know it’s wrong but i just can’t stop.” suguru geto never thought he’d end up here. in a new city with a new job and a new life. he never wanted to lose his little sister to his best friend. he never wanted to replace her. never wanted to fuck someone who looked exactly like her. but here you are, and geto can’t help but want you the same way he wants her. he just had to get that off his chest… ( 11.4K )

✩ — warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! dark content, nsfw, smut, hurt-comfot, open ending - video banner ! AITA-verse!au (read part one here !), bakery!au, italics mean the characters are speaking in japanse, situationships, co-dependency ( on suguru geto ), manipulation, gaslighting, praise, use of oni-chan/nii chan/imouto, fingering (f!receiving), public sex, unprotected sex, oral sex (f!receiving), overstimulation, orgasm control, multiple orgasms, creampies, bilingual!geto, japanese speaking + fem!reader.

✩ — things to note. hehe hi everyone!!! pls im reposting this again :( it was written as a gift for @todorosie and the very idea spawned from her love for geto in my AITA gojo fic !! it’s sort of a continuation and set in the same universe so you might need to read to understand the plot. special thanks to @antizenin for beta reading n helping me come up with some ideas !! enjoy guys, mwah mwah - m.list ⋆ read on ao3 ! ִ ࣪𖤐₊ ⊹

look, i know it’s bad… but my adopted sister and i were always close. she looked up to me and needed me for everything, up until a month ago when she betrayed my trust and fucked my childhood best friend. i got a therapist, went low contact and moved to a completely different country in order to avoid w everything. but nothing helped, i think of my sister every day and sometimes… i picture bad, dirty things. recently i met this girl, she’s the spitting image of my adoptive little sister. they look the same, act the same — i think i’ve started falling for her. i buy her gifts like i would for my sister and she likes them. we recently fucked at her place of work, i know it’s wrong but i just can’t stop.

TLDR: i’m fucking and have feelings for a girl that’s a carbon copy of my adopted younger sibling.

the city of new york is meant to be the city of dreams.

at any given moment, your fate can change. anything can happen here, you can make it big and live out your life or you can go home and lead one of regret. suguru geto feels like neither are true for him. the bustling city and flashing lights, busy concrete streets and honking taxis bring the dark haired man anything but joy. suguru isn’t happy here, in new york, despite all the wonders that it holds — irregardless of the grand job opportunity he has waiting for him just around the corner.

suguru geto had the chance of a lifetime to develop his career as a criminal defence lawyer in one of the most opportune cities in the world. his dream since he was old enough to understand the wrongs of the world.

but that’s merely not enough to keep him content, to make him want to stay.

he doesn’t want to go home either, he’s sure he would hate himself for thattoo. it would be a waste of suguru’s talents to return to japan prematurely, with its nauseating air and sense of betrayal that follows him everywhere he goes. home is supposed to be where one is happiest and safest — it’s where his family is, where he was raised and first opened his eyes. but for the lawyer, japan no longer serves to comfort him and only constantly reminds the man of his little sister, who’d fucked his best friend just a month prior.

that very instance was enough reason for him to leave the country in the first place — he had to get out, had to escape the very fact that haunted him day and night.

like any other adult with a shit load of trauma, suguru invests in the best therapist his money can buy — especially now that he can’t spoil is younger sister with it. the older woman with her stuffy office, beady eyes and chipped painted nails had prescribed the man with a short break, a change of pace from the life he was used to, to give himself the grace and time to heal from the heartbreak of losing the two most important people in his life. his best friend, satoru gojo, and his adoptive little sister.

he had no idea where gojo was now, thirty days later, and suguru knew his little sister had probably moved out of their hometown by now to kick start her career. so even if all of that meant that suguru geto could go home…he wouldn’t. he would use the vastness of new york to give himself the breathing room he needed to heal, fill his bloodstream with fresh oxygen so that it would clot and cover up his fresh wounds of betrayal, turn scabs into scars and let him slowly recover.

at least that’s what his therapist had told him to do — in the suffocating purple walls of her office.

yet, so far, suguru’s escape to new york hadn’t exactly gone according to plan. every corner of the city painfully reminds him of the hole in his heart, where his innocent little sister should be. after her graduation he’d planned on taking her here as a reward for all of her hard work, but now, suguru faces his own bitter reality — every landmark has her face etched into its side, skyscrapers and their glass windows refract the light of her smile, while famous dinner spots tie to the endless list of reservations she’d reminded suguru to make. hell, even his daily routine of hailing infamous yellow taxi cabs reminds him of her precious excitement to go.

new york was a city big enough for both geto siblings, but too large for just the one.

it’s a wonder that suguru has been able to live without his sister for this long — it’s only been a month but he’s spent his entire life looking out for her. protecting her. he hardly knows what to do with himself now that he has all this extra time.

suguru knew that she was way too dependent on him, it was bad — he was painfully aware of that. but he couldn’t help it, she needed someone to protect her and nurture her, she needed someone to teach her about the dangers of the world. she needed her big brother. perhaps if the dark haired man had been less protective of his sister and given her some sort of independence… then maybe he wouldn’t miss her so much, he wouldn’t have lost his best friend as collateral damage in the process. he would still have the two of them, and she could be happy with gojo.

the guilt of what ifs and what could have beens tirelessly weigh down suguru’s heart at the thought — he caused this. this rift between the soul-bonded pair. if he had raised her better, let her spread her wings like a free bird, then he would still have her in his life.

at this point, he’s realised something dire. suguru can’t live without her, his little sister. her bright eyes in the morning and the sweet tune to her voice when she calls out for him — it’s weird, it’s bad…how much he misses and needs her. borderlining on strange, it’s only now that suguru realises how unhealthy their dynamic as siblings had been. how reliant he was on his baby sister to need him. it should have never been that way, he shouldn’t need her so desperately to function. keeping her under such a close watch was probably what drove her into the arms of satoru in the first place.

the concrete wilderness of suguru’s new home provides no relief from these epiphanies and the chambers of his heart that slowly seem to be dying without his sister. instead he feels trapped in his own addiction, as if he’s going through the withdrawal after dependency on drugs.

whenever suguru feels immense waves of guilt, like a tsunami that might pull him under and replace the clean air in his lungs with the murky water of his own sour thoughts and emotions; whenever he misses home a little too much; whenever he feels like the world his crashing down on him once more — his therapist and her purple nails tapping against her clip board comes to mind. she tells suguru to take a walk, especially when he’s overcome with thoughts of the situation back in december. when his chest feels too tight and feels like picking up the phone and calling his sister before he’s ready to.

so geto does just that, lugging on his winter coat as he prepares to take a walk downtown while the sun sets.

suguru tends to think that his therapist is full of shit.

she believes in the colour purple, she believes that there is purpose and meaning in concepts like colours that are based on fact and science. the light reflects, and people see colour.

as she had explained to the man in an hour long session just two weeks ago, purple is supposed to be the colour of healing; though to suguru, purple makes him feel sick. it’s everywhere, in the lavander-ish off-white walls of his new york-rented apartment, the flowers in the stalls on his way to work, the skies at night. suguru thought he was a rational man, that he was calm and collected — able to see the reasons behind everything he comes across…but he still doesn’t understand the significance of colours like purple and its connection to healing.

all suguru knows is that he did like the pretty hollow shade that formed a ring around satoru’s bright blue eyes. of course, after having the shit beaten out of him for touching what belonged to suguru. for corrupting his innocent baby sister.

aside from that, tonight’s walk is mostly uneventful, full of couples getting ready for date night and business people heading home to their happy families for the night. suguru despises them, strangers on the street minding their own business. he hates these passer-bys for their happiness, a joy he can no longer experience. going home. it leaves a bitter taste on his tongue.

he misses his family. the warmth and love from his mother, the poor jokes from his father… the looks of adoration and hugs from his sister. it’s not fair. he shouldn’t have had to give that up because of the selfish actions of his ex-best friend.

suguru decides to turn back and head for his apartment when the street lamps start to flicker and turn on.

however, on his commute, a familiar scent tickles his senses and brushes over his nose. the man finds himself following, enchanted by rich flavours that he recognises from his youth — sweet red bean and spicy curries overlay the city’s natural smells and suguru makes an attempt to track it down. like a fool, he sprints after the scent like a hound dog tracking a hunt and stops a few strides short of a quaint japanese bakery with a set of deep indigo flowers climbing up it’s worn down exterior.

suguru recognises the flowers to be shobu. irises.

standing before the sliding doors, geto inhales, overwhelmed and overcome with emotion. the sweet smell triggers memories of home and how his parents would take him and his sister out to get treats when they were small. how that became a tradition for the geto siblings when they were old enough to go out on their own.

he remembers how his sister would beg him for a box of sakura mochi every time they went, and how he would so easily relent — even if it meant spending all of that week’s pocket money. suguru is so carried away with his thoughts that he hardly notices himself taking steps into the bakery, or lining up at the counter, or you.

calling him up to the counter.

you’re a pretty girl. that’s the first thing suguru notices. your eyes are beautiful, a deep brown that reminds him of roasted chestnuts and warm chocolates, your face is round with a soft edge of youth. the uniform that you wear hugs every dip and curve of your body and the braids you have are lengthy and black, perfectly framing your face. when you speak, your voice carries gentle dulcet notes that make suguru’s heart flutter — like music to his ears.

you are one thousand percent suguru geto’s type and everything about you, this little bakery attendant, reminds suguru of his younger sister.

right then and there, everything clicks into place for him.

“sir, can i get you anything?” you ask him kindly, not wanting to push or scare away a potential customer. nor pressure the handsome stranger, since he’s holding up your line. “sir?” you repeat, finally garnering his attention after squirming under his intense stare.

not that you mind being stared at by him, for this particular customer is right up your alley.

from his milky skin, desperate to be marked, to his lengthy dark tresses that you’re dying to pull at and tug. his jaw is angular, sharp enough to the point where you fear you would cut yourself should you have the chance to touch it. despite the razor edges to his features, he looks kind…almost wistful, at most. a quality that does nothing to calm the hungry flame catching light in your lower tummy.

the two of you remain admiring one another until a customer in the queue clears their throat impatiently — causing both of you to jump.

“s-sorry,” geto mumbles the apology quickly, his pale cheeks tinged with a subtle pink despite how hot they feel. he’s suddenly become all too aware of the line that he’s holding up. one that he’s not even supposed to be in, since he’d walked in here on instinct anyway. his dark, narrow eyes sweep the counter in search for something, anything to order so that he doesn’t look like a complete idiot in front of you or the rest of the customers.

more specifically, yourself.

“i would recommend the sakura mochi,” then, like an angel sent from the heavens, you try your luck in conversing with suguru in japanese. his nervous and skittish gaze shoots up to your face, shoulders sagging in relief and familiarity. you truly are like a piece of home. like his little sister. suguru likes that more than a normal man should. “they’re popular amongst our customers, it’s taken our owner years to perfect her recipe with the ingredients here. especially since leaving japan.”

suguru grins and nods, spotting the dessert he’s so accustomed to buying in the display cabinet. his heart lurches, yearning for his little sister. “these?” he whispers to you, the syllables of his native language curling around his tongue naturally. “they look just like the ones from home.”

there’s a sparkle in your eyes when he responds, and you continue to speak to him in sugary tones. “they taste just as goodtoo, i promise!”

“then, i’ll take a box.”

“how many? they come in boxes of four, eight and sixteen pieces.”

“just the four, please.”

taking your tongs from the metal counter behind the cabinet, you fish out four of the best pieces of sakura mochi and tentatively place them into a pre-folded cardboard box for the handsome customer. as he dives deep into his pocket for his card to pay, you quickly add an extra piece — uttering something about it being on the house under your breath.

the action leaves both of you bashful and suguru taps his card on the machine you’ve set up for him to pay. “ah, thank you…” suguru searches for your name in the candy scented air and you tap your badge with a cute acrylic nail to draw attention to your name which he breathes out in a husky tone, failing to mask its curious lilt as he returns to english.

“no worries, have a good evening, sir.” you giggle shyly, still managing to bid him farewell.

on his way home, suguru can’t help but to replay the entire interaction in his head over and over again. in his brief three minutes of meeting you, you’d managed to fix the hole in his heart, help it beat properly again. you’re just like her, his little sister, and that is a dangerous fact.

he reaches his apartment with a flushed face, feeling a little flustered, but a lot better than he was before the start of his walk.

after work, a few days later, geto finds himself back in front of the bakery, working up the courage to go inside and see you.

no matter how hard he tried and how much of his work he tried to throw himself into — suguru couldn’t get the vision of you out his head. your saccharine laugh haunted him as he reviewed case files, your timid smile chased him through his lunch break and your small act of kindness (speaking with him in Japanese) has him all worked up and blushing by the time he’s able to clock out for the day.

the dark haired man feels insane, he knows that this is weird — projecting the image of his adoptive sister onto you, but like a man on drugs he can’t seem to quit. he needs to get his fix. he needs to see you again. entering the bakery once again is like stepping into a new domain, and suguru damn near forgets his simple plan to talk to you. order sakura mochi, say thank you, and leave. while he waits in the queue, his courage mounts in slow stacks and anxiety fades, but by the time he’s up front and face to face with you again — suguru’s brain is completely wiped of every word he was going to say.

“ah, it’s you again!” you greet him in japanese once more, instinctively reaching to brush your braids out of your face in order to look more presentable to the handsome stranger who’s been plaguing your thoughts as well. suguru thinks you’re cute, regardless of the rice flour smeared across your cheeks and the various mysterious (though surely tasty) stains that decorate your uniform. he even finds it endearing, the way that you share the same nervous gesture of playing with the ends of your braids like his little sister. “i was just wondering when you were going to come in from the… mmm, cold? you’ve been standing and… uh! staring from out there for a while.” you continue to tease the man warmly in his native tongue, choosing your words carefully and avoiding eye contact with him while you prep the tongs for his order. “what can i get for you today?”

so much for not humiliating himself in front of the pretty girl. “i’m sorry… i’ll just take some sakura mochi again,” suguru begins, this time in english to spare you the trouble of overthinking everything that you say. “i was trying to figure out how to do this,” he places a wad of cash on the counter while you prepare his order. your chocolatey eyes blow wide, sweet glazed lips parting softly at the mere sight. you’re sure there’s enough money in the stack to cover an entire week’s worth of your wages and if a stranger can just give away such a large amount… it makes you wonder what he��s even doing at a humble place like this. “it’s a tip from last time. i never got to thank you.”

“oh… i was just doing my job!” you stammer out politely and prepare to reject the tip, but suguru refuses to let you refuse his gift — forcefully pushing the ‘tip’ over the edge of the glass. he really couldn’t help but to give the money to you, hardly fighting the urge to spoil you with cash like he would with his little sister. besides, the man earned more than enough to drop it on you without putting a dent in his pocket.

“you did more than that… just the simple act of kindness in conversing with me, a stranger, in japanese. that was nice of you.” suguru counters. “thank you. how did you know?”

you work on preparing a thin and white cardboard box for his order before walking along the dessert counter, followed by you. “i had a feeling, a lot of people come in here when they’re missing something,” he frowns and your eyes finally meet his. “someone.” you breathe out, quietly. “i took a guess, figured you might have been from japan.”

“well, you were correct…”

your heart skips a beat at the sound of your name on his tongue as he says it. it’s so gentle it makes you feel faint and you’re absolutely charmed by a man you hardly know. “does that earn me brownie points…?” you trail off, wanting to capture his name.

“suguru.”

“ah, suguru meaning…” giving the man a once over, you drink in his tall frame and dark eyes, the small quirk to his plush lips as he smiles at you… and think. he’s the perfect man in every way, soft spoken and clement, even if he did have flaws or a dark secret — you would definitely choose to ignore it in favour of spending more time with him. once you find the word you’re looking for (and snap out of staring at the poor guy) you speak again. “excellence…it suits you.”

geto chuckles quietly in response, amused by your take away. “your name suits you too, darling. it’s just as beautiful as you.”

when you giggle and grow shy at his compliment — the honeyed melody only serves to remind suguru of his little sister once more. in that moment, he feels something bad and almost wretched stir in his gut just from watching you turn bashful over him. a dark thought in the back of his kind tells him to keep you, so that he can see you like this more often. it urges him to make you need him. like he would have with his little sister.

he’s starting to project, he’s sure, but you make it easy for him, with your puppy dog eyes and tiny little smiles. once geto’s order is packed, four little squares of sakura mochi wrapped in emerald green and brined sakura leaf — smelling of spring and red bean, he pays (with a hefty tip) and inspects the box. “you’ve got to stop giving me things for free, darling. we’ve only just met.” he chides fondly, scolding you like a child as if to make sure you won’t get in trouble with your job. he’s counted five mochi instead of four — just like last time. “won’t this hurt business?” he coos down at you — sending your body into a fit of shivers despite the warmth of your uniform.

“well, i’d consider us friends now that you’ve come specifically to see me. friends can’t give each other gifts?” you quip cheekily — much like suguru’s sister would. “you got to spoil me today, no one is going to notice an extra piece of mochi going missing.”

“friends it is,” surugu purrs right back in satisfaction, preparing to take his leave. cautiously, as though not to spook you like a hunter after a deer in the woods — he reaches over the counter to pat your head affectionately, internally pleased with the way you keen into his touch. “i hope to see my new friend around more often, then.” he hums with pride, and you nod your head eagerly.

like a puppy. like you want to please him.

it reminds geto all too much of his little sister — who only ever wanted to make the dark haired man proud.

over the coming weeks, suguru finds himself at the bakery more often than not. as though it’s a part of his daily routine.

he’ll take his walk after work, stop by and purchase some sakura mochi, before leaving you with another little gift. at first, his gifts started out as wads of cash in place of tips, then slowly turned to more materialistic things, items that you could hood or wear as if they were to geto’s his claim on you. like flowers, jewellery or clothes. things you couldn’t afford on your own, things he’d like to see you in, things his little sister would like to receive if they were still in contact with one another.

suguru knows that you can’t afford these things because you’ve let it slip over coffee and mochi that you rent the apartment above the bakery from the old woman who owns it and can barely afford the new york rent as well. he also learns that you were hired because of your ability to speak, read and write in Japanese.

as much as suguru has spoiled you in the last few weeks, you won’t let him pay your rent though, so tips have sufficed for now.

nowadays, the time spent moping around his apartment while mourning the relationships that he lost are spent growing increasingly obsessive over you. hours upon hours are wasted on thoughts of what gift he might buy you next — like more comfortable work shoes, an umbrella to get you home safe during the rain that just so happens to be designer. suguru spoils you under the guise of just being your friend — at least that’s what it is to you.

to him, he’s spoiling his baby sister. someone who is feeble and needs his help and his protection. he doesn’t tell his therapist any of this, of course, she would deem it unhealthy to see how much of his money and time he’s blown in a little cafe worker.

a cafe worker who’s important to suguru, who haunts his dreams with her perfect curves, and pouty lips whenever he brings you a small gift of his affections. “sugu,” you’ve resorted to calling him, just like his sister would. the nickname was the result of a time where you’d written his name on a coffee order, and customers complained you were taking too long. so geto had told you that you could call him ‘sugu’ instead. however, he would omit details on how badly it affected his brain chemistry …to hear someone he cared for call him that again. “you don’t have to get me an expensive gift just because i make you coffee and get you sweet treats.”

“it’s not just because you get me sweet things or make me coffee,” he had responded, leaning over the counter flirtatiously. “it’s because you do such a good job. you take care of me and my order every evening. make sure i get the best of the best. how could i not thank my sweet little barista.”

you wouldn’t say it, but he knew you liked the praise. he wondered if you felt as dirty and as thrilled as him during these little exchanges between the two of you. on that specific occasion, geto decided to gift you with a pendant, similar to the one he’d gotten his sister — only this time, a purple amethyst sits in its centre rather than the blue gem all too familiar to satoru gojo’s piercing eyes.

maybe this is what his therapist meant by healing. suguru is healing by getting over his sister and replacing her with you.

you are the one that haunts his dreams now, makes his cock stir inappropriately. another thing that suguru woulda never tell his therapist — is that sometimes when he really needed it, he would think of his little sister while fisting his cock into the night air. they weren’t really related, only by adoption so it wasn’t too wrong. sometimes he’d think of her getting railed by satoru, but nowadays he would think of you on his cock instead, calling out for suguru like you need him to function.

‘nii-san!’ - this and ‘please sugu! ’- that, each word uttered in his sister’s voice would quickly morph into yours — the quivering sweet sound always resembling his little sister’s when she cried. suguru, the dark haired man, imagined you would react the same. and more often than not, it was your face that he pictured when he was about to cum.

every single gift suguru got for you were the result of him dreaming about how much he needed you, someone to spoil and protect. someone to need him.

tonight, suguru is a little late for his daily visit to your bakery.

tonight, an important case at his firm had rolled in at the last minute and required attention before a preliminary hearing — but even his job couldn’t keep suguru geto away from you. when he arrives at the bakery, you’re still there, having left the doors unlocked for him to come inside.

tonight, there is no long line of customers out the door to build up the anticipation between you both, the lights have already been deemed and there’s not a trace of life inside of the bakery. aside from yourself, of course.

tonight, you’re on the closing shift instead of the owner’s grandson, choso. who you reassured suguru you weren’t interested in the first time they’d met. with gentle eyes that masked the dark haired man’s fury, geto had told you that he was the only man you’d ever need and you believed him — suguru had a charm for making people dependent on him.

the tiny silver bell stationed at the door jingles and signals geto’s arrival, but you hardly look up from your work — keeping your back to him while you sweep at nothing. you’re hiding the excitement that prickles down your spine, you’ve been waiting to get the man alone for weeks and now that you’re able to… you can hardly contain yourself.

“excuse me, uh…” he says your name so sweetly, as though the words on his tongue are laced with honey. pretending not to know you only makes tonight more thrilling. “are you open? do you have any sakura mochi to spare?” it’s only then that you whirl around to face suguru, your deep brown eyes still bright despite the dimness of the empty bakery — they sparkle with elation, and the plump curve of your lips spike up into an easy smile. you’ve been waiting, suguru notes, like a good little girl.

like a puppy waiting for her owner.

you’ve been waiting to see him.

anticipation claws at the air, sending ripples of kinetic energy into the space between you both — where suguru waits at the door and you stand front and centre in the middle of the room. his murky eyes slink down to your neck where one hand fiddles with the silver chain of your pendant, your nails tapping at the amethyst in its centre. in the same way his sister does when she’s nervous.

neither of you know what’s going to happen tonight, now that you’re finally alone.

“we have some in the back,” you swallow down the heartbeat in your throat you nod shyly when you finally speak. it’s weird how your body has started to react to suguru after weeks of getting to know him, being spoiled by him. the clothes you wear are now covered in traces of him, the jewellery you own is paid for by his dime. this…stranger, who you hardly know yet feel like you know everything about, has invaded every inch of your life… and you’re not even mad about it. you’d rather die than let this go. “i just need to lock up first. if you’ll give me a moment.”

you approach him cautiously, practically pressing your breasts against his chest as you reach behind the man to lock the doors he stands in front of. suguru can already tell that the mood today is different — full of hunger and expectations for something less polite than evening chatter and gift exchanges. his dark eyes follow your every move across the bakery like a wolf tracking the scent of prey.

“why don’t you come with me to the back? and if you don’t mind, could you carry a bag or two of that rice flour? it’s too heavy for me on my own?” you ask him after backing away with a glint in your eye. naughty, naughty. geto likes the fact that you’re asking him, that you need him and he can be your strong suguru.

“sure, anything for you.” he agrees a little bit too quickly, removing his work jacket and rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt. suguru discards his tie as well — before lifting a sack of rice flower with ease. he pretends not to notice the way you ogle the bulge in his biceps as he does so.

“thanks.” you utter, leading the way to the back of the bakery.

once the two of you arrive in the kitchens at the back, you give suguru some time to set down the sacks of flour and retreat to the many shelves of sweet treats and baked goods that you’d prepared for your shift the next day. you’re sure choso, nor his grandmother, would mind if you stole a plate of mochi for the two of you to share. they trusted you enough, but you decide to forgo telling them for now.

“i was starting to think you weren’t coming.” you say as you set the desserts out on the metal table for him, suguru hates the guilt that he feels for leaving you for so long. “seeing you is the highlight of my week.”

“are you sure it’s not the gifts that i give you?” he teases, rounding the table to take a piece of mochi from the plate at its middle. he practically moans at the flavours of cherry blossom and crystallised sugar bursting across the palette of his tongue. and for a moment, his mind slips to other territories — wandering what you’d taste like as well.

“n-no! sugu!” for the first time that night, you break character, bashfully tucking your pretty face into your shoulder as if to hide it. “i, um… i genuinely like seeing you and when you come to see me. i-it makes me feel better. being around you. i feel safer and happier.”

putting his weight onto the metal surface, suguru leans forward and cocks his head to the side in faux curiosity. your answer is just what he wanted to hear. he finally has you where he wants you, like a sweet deer in a hunter’s trap. “is that so, darling?” you shake your head yes in affirmation. “well then, you’re awfully sweet.” geto takes to praising you, licking the traces of candy from his lips and maintaining eye contact while his hand dips into the pocket of his slacks for something. “i have a gift for you, little one.”

“oh yeah?” youtoo, take a bite out of the treats you’ve laid out, munching on them casually while keeping suguru under your watchful eye.

it’s only then that pulls out a matching item of jewellery, this time, a matching anklet to the item that sits heavy at your neck. the silver chain is dotted with tinier, purple gems. a showcase of suguru’s appreciation for how much you’ve healed him — a nod to how much better he feels around you too.

“you sure do love purple for me, sugu.” you joke, laughing incredulously at the expensive gift. “it’s beautiful, thank you.” you let him circle the table to take hold of your soft hips, lifting you onto the cool surface so that geto has some leverage to put the anklet on you.

after kicking out your left foot — suguru sinks to his knees before you, and something about the way he looks up at you, with his eyebrows drawn to the centre of his forehead and his milky cheeks slightly flushed, has your heart racing and your head all dizzy. “purple is supposed to mean healing. i’ve had a tough time, being away from japan and my family…” he begins quietly, his voice is calming with lilts and drops of hunger that slips through the cracks of suguru’s caring resolve. “but you’ve made it better,” one of his large hands encircles your ankle, lifting your foot higher so that geto is easily able to remove the strap of your mary-jane shoe and replace it with the chains of your new anklet. “ah… a perfect fit.” he announces in japanese, fixing the clasp.

the whole ordeal is intimate, inviting and you feel like you might slip under the surface of dark, dangerous waters if you’re not careful. you don’t know how to swim, but something tells you that suguru will keep you afloat. “anyways, little one…” suguru continues with his monologue, whispering his words against your talus bone at the base of your leg, where it meets your foot. “you wanting me here and needing me… it heals me.”

once he’s checked that the anklet is secure, suguru reaches a hand upwards, and brushes a thumb over the swell of your glossy bottom lip to swipe away a smudge of powdered sugar from the mocha. you will yourself to speak, but you feel as though you can’t even breathe. “i’ve…healed you?”

suguru stands up, towering over you now as he moves to suck the sugar from your lips off of his thumb. “of course, little one. what else do you think you’ve been doing this whole time?” his pupils dilate, obsidian black drowning out any other colour in his eyes while closes the gap between your heated bodies. your thighs instinctively jump apart to make room for him too, allowing him to loom over you even better — following the biological call of your hearts.

the world comes to a standstill when suguru’s lips finally meet yours in a sloppy yet coordinated kiss. while his movements are messy and hungry he remains gentle with you, as though you might break from too much force. the sweltering heat of his tongue swipes eagerly but not aggressively over the seam of your mouth, dying to be let in and taste the sugar that glazes your own pink muscle. his large, unusually soft hands grasp, and squeeze and pinch at your thighs, then the fat at your hips until his thumbs are tucked under your breasts, soothing circles over the point at which the fleshy mounds join up with your rib cage.

goosebumps break out across your skin from underneath your clothes and you feed suguru a needy little squeak when he finally breaks into your mouth, his tongue lapping circles at every crevice. you sound just like her, his angelic little sister, and he treats you so gently because he would never want to hurt her. suguru has always wanted to kiss his sister, but you’ll have to do. he likes you just as much as her.

it’s that sick and twisted desire to devour his younger sibling that fuels his next movements, along with the dulcet and darling sounds you make for him. carefully and between sticky lip locks, suguru pushes you onto your back — humming in amusement when it arches away from the cool metal of the silver counter. “s-sugu,” you whimper wetly, catching your breath while his smooches cascade down to your neck and his fingers work their way through the buttons on your uniform. your own take residence in his firm and broad set shoulders, as if to steady yourself. “i haven’t… i don’t have much experience with these things a-and they’ve not been the best—“

the dark haired man chuckles softly, the sound sending a spark of lust down your spine and causing you to arch up into him as he cages you against the table. “i’ll be gentle,” he tells you firmly, in a tone that smooths over the doubts in your mind and helps you to relax. suguru will take care of everything. “you don’t have to worry. i want this to be all about you feeling good, okay?” you nod in reply and suguru sucks his teeth. “i want a verbal answer, little one.”

“yes, sugu…”

he places a chaste kiss to your collarbones then, a pleased hum vibrating against your temperate skin. “good girl.”

the next few moments are a blur as suguru geto strips you down, kissing every inch of your exposed body with each article of clothing he removes from your shaky frame. all that he leaves you with are your soiled panties after reaching around the curve of your spine to unclip your bra with one hand. it’s all so nerve wracking and invigorating all at once, you can’t help but wrap your legs around his waist and pull him in for more.

between the chaos and rustling of his own clothes coming off, suguru presses two digits to your budding clit and your world tilts on its axis — he’s hardly touching you and yet you feel so good, especially when he rolls the swollen little nub between a thumb and forefinger. your nails form crescent moons against his shoulder in response.

you’re so overwhelmed by the patterns he traces over your clit, his name, his promises to you and your body, as well as the blood rushing to it — that you hardly notice geto’s descent on your body, the hot trail of kisses he leaves between the valley of your breasts and over your soft tummy. you just about manage to feel him over the haze in your brain when his lips hit the scalloped edge of your panties, and you jolt when the tip of his tongue forcefully traces the outline of your un-used, soaked hole from over the gusset of said garment.

the fabric darkens as your juices pool against it, mixed with the wetness of suguru’s tongue.

“will you let me pleasure you, little one?”

it’s not like you can say no (not that you want to), especially with the way geto manoeuvres your thighs to hang over the backs of his strong shoulders as he settles between your trembling legs. while he waits for your reply, he takes your wrist into his grasp and pulls one of your silk scrunchies from it — using it to tie back his luscious black hair.

you look down at him through your lashes with a painted expression of want and worry.

suguru pushes the pads of his thumbs into the globes of your ass against the cold table — massaging the flesh with mischievous eyes as your pussy gushes and leaks a fresh wave of nectar right down to the puckered ring between your ass cheeks. “just tying my hair back as a precaution,” he whispers, voice lowering an octave as his face slowly nears your clenching cunt. “i’m a messy eater…”

“a-ah! sugu!”

at first, suguru delivers a single lick to your awaiting pussy, drawing a stripe with his tongue between the length of your fat and sluice folds. then, when you cry out his name he can’t help but to latch his heated mouth onto your unattended sex, chuckling at the realisation of just how good you taste. it’s a natural flavour, with a twinge of sweetness suguru could have only hoped to imagine. he’s been waiting for this moment and to have you like this for weeks — to replace his prior daydreams of fucking his baby sister with you…and now he finally has the material to do so.

a sinful giddiness infiltrates geto’s bloodstream as he kitten licks at your pulsating mound — feeding in your arousal as it grows before inhaling deeply, nastily taking in your scent so that he can commit it to memory. “how does that feel?” he coos his words out as he hungrily nips at your sopping folds, rolling them raw between rows of perfect white teeth until you’re choking on a breath and your face scrunches adorably. “is that nice, love?”

a wet whimper lies on your kiss-swollen lips, and your hips naturally buck up to follow the warm trace of suguru’s mouth encompassing your sex. “f-feels so good! b-better than i… could have imagined,” you struggle to get out, gargling on each syllable while your chest heaves and arches away from the chilly table — giving suguru the perfect view of your bouncing breasts and only motivating him to pleasure you more. “f-fuck!”

if you were his baby sister, suguru isn’t so sure that you’d curse in front of him. she wouldn’t, she was too docile and sweet to utter a bad thing in his presence. but you, you’re both of those things and more — you lose yourself easily to the ecstasy in your veins; liquid pleasure spewing from your blistering hot cunt like a free-flowing river, painting suguru’s high cheekbones with your body’s riches. he feels blessed to be between your thighs, defiling the blossoming flower of your cunt with his eager mouth.

“you’re so…you’re so pretty when you gush like this for me. i want you to give me more.” his tongue darts along the length of your weeping slit, catching what you leak before it can go to waste on the icy table beneath your hot skin. drunk on your taste, suguru forces his flexible tongue past the tightness of your fluttering entrance. “can you do that for me?” he mouths, though whatever he says is slurred as he slowly begins to tongue fuck you.

“a-anything,” you say, breathing shallow and eyes beginning to grow teary. suguru’s tongue slips in and out of your creaming hole with rhythm, preparing you, using a pseudo sensation, for his fat cock. “anything for you! i wanna feel good for you. wanna please you!” he languidly strokes at your ribbed insides as a reward, chasing your honey nectar taste while your hips canter up and chase bud hismouth.

suguru intends to destroy you, own you and unleash all of his darkest fantasies onto you. he’s dreamed of ruining his adoptive little sister, making her cum all over him — it just so happens that you look and sound like her, you match every single one of his dreams about her, you make them all a reality. it’s only right that he pleases you and makes you see stars for needing him and relying on him so well.

he wonders if his sister would cry like you do, or if she would try to stave off her orgasm like you do. would she scream his name over the saliva pooling on her tongue like you do. eyes in the shade of deep, chocolate brown start to flutter shut at the sound of your desperate pleas as you writhe under suguru’s attention of your swollen pussy. your back sticks to the table and your thighs shake either side of suguru’s head, but he doesn’t relent on sucking the juices that cling to your pussy lips until all he can breathe is you.

his tongue twists happily against your lush walls, grasping at the essence that lines them.

“you’re doing well for me, little one, so well…” he praises you, knowing how close you’re getting. it’s in the way your body twitches with every suck to your hardened clit and the way you try to push him off of you. you need it so bad, you need him to make you cum. suguru thrusts deeper, harder and faster using his tongue — catching what dribbles from your tiny hole after it slips between your ass cheeks and pools in a puddle on the table. “i want to taste it. if you’ll cum for me, that’ll make me happy. so let me…”

suguru can’t even finish, dizzy on the taste of you like the buzz of a high. he could spend an infinite number of days between your legs. no matter how sore his knees get from kneeling between them — all he wants to do is slurp down everything that you give him, focus on making you reach pleasure of only heavenly limits in order to evade the guilt he feels. the one that causes knots to twist in geto’s stomach.

how could he do this?

how could he want this?

to fuck someone so reminiscent of his little sister.

to manipulate them into fucking him?

suguru’s name is hot on your lips, spiralling into the husky evening air. “come on, little one. cum for me,” meanwhile, his breath on your cunt makes your hips wiggle and hole spasm — a new wave of juices staining his face. it’s scent and taste coax the man into diving back into your sopping heat, the point of his nose bumping against your pleasure nub as if peeks out from beneath its hood.

“m-mph… m’kay,” comes your hushed whisper as you thread your fingers through the black roots of geto’s hair, keeping him pinned to your precious creamy core as you rut against his agile tongue. “f-feels funny!” you gasp and warble, filling the man’s mouth with your raw folds and liquid lust.

“hm?” geto hums lazily in acknowledgment, licking up to your clit so that he can replace his tongue with two digits. he works at your dripping hole, stretching it over them through the haze in his mind. he swoons at the thought of replacing those same digits with his cock next — they speed up with excitement, squelching and echoing throughout the room, overlapping with your high pitched breathy moans.

with your heart rattling against your ribcage, you can hardly fight off the urge building within your lower belly — your hips are frantic as they chase after the feeling and the burning high that crackles across your neurons. geto groans wickedly, feeling your sex spasm against his soaked lips and clench down hard on his fingers. it’s not long before he feels you succumb to your first orgasm. it washes over him in heavenly waves — clearing away his guilt and desire for his little sister while simultaneously drowning you under sinful pretences.

your entire body is racked with the case of the shakes, your eyes shooting back into the dark depths of your skull while white noise fills your ears and overlays the sound of suguru lewdly slurping at your release. speaking off, clear streams of your arousal spurt from your quivering cunt…and for the first time ever, you squirt. everywhere, all over the place, making such a mess that suguru is left gargling over everything that you give him and there’s a crude splatter as your juices hit the floor.

he doesn’t stop, however, licking you clean with his fingers continuing to curl languidly against your g-spot — over and over again.

“sugu p-please! s’too much,” you plead in the form of a heavy sob — but only god knows that you don’t want the man to stop.

“just one more for me?” he asks you tentatively, releasing your throbbing clit with a wet pop. suguru stands and you look up at him — noting the way his bangs stick to his cheeks from how wet you’ve gotten him. he doesn’t stop pumping his fingers in and out of you either, dragging the tips of them along your overstimulated and stretched walls. “you can do it, and if you can i’ll reward you. how does that sound, little one?” he slows his pace just enough to only have the seat of his palm salaciously grind against your clit, not wanting to hurt you.

he wouldn’t want to hurt his adoptive sister if he ever had the chance to get her spread open like this.

your face is stained with mascara, your brown eyes big and wobbly and your braids are askew — but still, you’re the most adorable thing he’s ever seen, next to her. your fingers threaten to snap shut around his wrist, but with his free hand he forces the wet and doughy flesh back open, and with a few more thrusts if his fingers, nice and tantalisingly slow, you’re cumming again in another cute, clear stream — dowsing suguru’s hand in another wash of your cum.

leaning down, suguru’s lips tainted with your arousal lean down to meet your own — capturing them in a sweet kiss to help bring you back down to earth. “what’s your colour, darling? red for bad, yellow for okay and green for good. how do you feel?”

“g-green,” you mumble, keening into his touch and craving his affection. “i feel fine, my legs won’t stop shaking. i’ve never cum like that before…”

pride blooms like a wildflower in suguru’s chest.

“well, i don’t intend on stopping, little one,” brushing your braids back into place, suguru carefully pulls his fingers out of your stretched hole and swiftly sucks them clean. “your pretty pussy is so tiny, must not have been used properly,” the vulgarity of his words have you arching for more from suguru, and you’re lucky that he’s not done with you yet. “don’t worry, love. i’ll fix that.”

you’re weak in the knees when suguru manhandles you from the table onto the floor, making sure that you’re comfortable on your tummy — he even goes as far to nestle a bag of rice flour under your hips. you pretend not to notice the way his strength makes you flutter around nothing, smearing your juices onto the bakery floor.

“i’ve been holding back quite a bit,” he murmurs against your naked shoulder blades — the dark tresses of his hair tickling your skin. “so i might not last long.” you hear a belt clink before suguru kicks his slacks off and away, rewarding your patience with a kiss against your spine. “i hope it’s okay if i just give you my all.”

from this position, it’s easy for suguru to picture his younger, adopted sister instead of you — he’s dreamed of having her present for him like this countless times, but it doesn’t compare to the way it feels having your hot body underneath him like this. your ass is so soft and pliant in his hands as he drags your hips up a little higher. another hand grasps at the hardness of his cock that’s been dripping and aching ever since geto first got his mouth on you.

with stuttering hips, he positions himself at your needy entrance, chuckling in approval when you attempt to wiggle back on him — just as hungry for this as your lover is. both of you hiss as his veiny shaft comes into contact with your sticky folds, suguru using the remnants of your orgasms to slick himself up again and make it easier for you take all of him. you can’t see him, but the dark haired man’s cheeks are tinged pink with pure desire — his gaze turning woozy as he looks from your gaping hole to his cockhead, tapping it against your souse entrance a few times for good measure.

fuck a condom, he thinks, if given the opportunity — he would have fucked his sister rawtoo.

“whatever you give me, i-it’ll be enough for me, sugu,” you sniff, fisting the floor in anticipation — laying your hot, tear streaked cheek against its cool surface. “t-thank you for treating me so well.”

“i promise,” geto heaves, words a little too rushed and eager. “i’ll make you feel so good, so fucking…h-hah—“ without warning, he thrusts all the way inside of you with his hips driving all the way forward until his pelvis is flush against the curve of your ass. geto is chubbier than you thought he would be, and just the right length — plugging you full. every vein wrapped around his shaft presses up against your most sensitive pleasure spots, and he’s weighty against your gummy unused walls.

suguru’s breath prickles at shell of your ears as he collapses on top of you, all of his weight keeping you pinned to the cold hard floor. “can i move?” he lets out a wavering gasp, fighting the instinct to fuck down into you. your cunt ripples around him deliciously, the heat from your body making him drowsy. “you need to be fucked, little one. need someone to stretch out your tight pussy… i can do that for you. if you let me…”

he hates the part of his brain that wonders if his baby sister was this tight when gojo fucked her.

“i want you to,” you slur gently, purposely squeezing down on the base of suguru’s cock and practically creaming around it. you wriggle back on him until he’s completely bottomed out inside of you — balls deep while you ooze against his pelvis and heavy balls. “need you to fuck me…”

that’s all it takes for your stranger turned lover to give his all to you. he drops his sweaty chest to your back, pulling his chubby cock from the snugness of your heat as his teeth take purchase in your shoulders — leaving a litter of love bites your uniform will barely cover once the night is over. suguru is possessive of his belongings, like you and his little sister — the bites are his claim on you.

in one powerful move, you’re full to the brim with rock hard cock — deep in your guts, churning them up and spreading lust like a wildfire through your weak body. you feel dwarfed underneath him. despite being pinned to the floor, you still manage to rock your hips back against suguru and suck more of him into your cute, quivering cunt. it just about helps him set a steady stream to his meaningful thrusts.

wet slapping sounds echo throughout the back room of the bakery, accompanied by your meek mewls and gasps for air the faster suguru pounds into your warmth. fat droplets of precum smear along your soaked and ripe insides, ready to be bred by suguru. ready to be marked by him. you feel like you belong to him like a treasured pet and you don’t even mind it. your pussy blossoms for him like that of a japanese cherry blossom in the spring time — or iris flowers, shobu, in their iconic shade of purple. like the bruises he’s left on your back.

oh, you’re just perfect for suguru. you fulfil all of his sister-fucking fantasies, even your moans sound like hers when she would get off in her room — thinking no one could hear her. he loves this, he might even love you — the way you feel wrapped around him, reaching for the stars in your eyes. it feels like you’re made for him, with the way you clamp down on his oozing mushroomed tip and squirm about underneath him.

your pussy barely lets go of geto when he draws his hips back, but every time he fucks down into him — your fluttering hole stretches to accommodate his creamy thickness. it creates the perfect pathway for the dark haired man to bully your g-spot in a way that makes you scream for more. “you’re perfect for me…fuck, you’re so perfect,” suguru intimately whispers into your skin from behind, his hands smoothing over yours as you claw at the floor to ground yourself from the overwhelming ecstasy. he thinks he understands why satoru had fucked his sister now — there’s something so satisfying about corrupting someone. taking their innocence with your dick. “should i keep you like this? on my aching cock forever?”

“y-yes please!” you squeal, succumbing to your body’s biological will, cunt spitting droplets of arousal all over suguru. he’s barely able to pull out of you, his dick on lockdown inside of your core. there’s hardly any space between you both any more, the air vibrating with electrifying lust and the scent of sex.

you coo and cry out for your newfound lover, your ass and the backs of your thighs burning from how hard his skin slaps against your own. you hardly care about the pain for its overlapped with ecstasy like sea water on a sandy shore. “you’re such a good…good fucking girl for me. for your big brother,” suguru loses track of his words, his mind lagging behind his mouth and his hips that relentlessly pound you into the ground. over the sound of sex you think that you’ve misheard him, but then his voice rises an octave and in volume as he continues to moan out your praises — succumbing to your gratifying and ichorous cunt latching onto the veins spiralling around his dick. “oh my precious little sister… taking me so fucking well—!”

in that moment, all of the guilt suguru has ever felt for leaving his sister, for ruining her relationship and fleeing to new york, for thinking of her while fucking you… it all comes rushing back. he stops thrusting, freezing in place above you while his cock twitches along your insides.

“f-fuck i—“ he starts to apologise, but the cry you let out stops him.

“nii-san,” you whine petulantly, fat tears gathering in your lash line. “d-don’t stop! please keep fucking me, fuck me harder. make me cum, make me scream, make me—!” your words are cut off by suguru’s fingers wrapping around your delicate neck from behind, giving it a gentle squeeze. he resumes his thrusts, a little harsher and more carelessly coordinated than before, once he realises that maybe you’re just as sick and twisted as him. calling him big brother while he uses you for a dirty fuck in place of his younger adopted sibling…

you like this just as much as he does.

suguru knows you’re perfect, perhaps even more so than his little sister. he uses his grip on your throat to tug your head back while he fucks you silly, slotting his mouth against yours in a salacious and sinful kiss. “onii-san, hm?” he forces his tongue over yours, moaning into your mouth pathetically as he reverts back to his mother-tongue. “you want your onii-san to fuck you, imouto? make you cum again?”

“please, please, please onii-san! g-gotta cum f’you…g’na cum. c-close!” comes your brainless babble while you fall into a cockdrunk state.

“you beg so pretty for your big brother, sweet little thing. i should fill you up, breed this greedy little cunt for all its worth, right?” suguru’s mind grows as foggy as yours, copious amounts of his precum pouring into you and dripping down your swollen slit. it’s a mess, everything is disgustingly messy — this situation, the fact that you’re so eagerly calling him your big brother, the fact that he’s fucking you because you remind him of his sibling. but neither of you give a shit, not when you feel so fucking good you swear you’re seeing the pearly gates.

“g-god! please sugu, please nii-san, i need it. need you!” the slow roll of your hips contrasts with geto’s ever increasing slap of skin on skin, your mix of arousals crudely seeping down his balls and to the floor below. the point at which your bodies join starts to forth as well.

“is that so…?” suguru hums attentively, grinning ear to ear at how you play into this immoral dynamic. it fuels the fire of lust burning through him, setting his lungs alight and ruining his chances at breathing. his thrusts become erratic, his cockhead married to your g-spot, and he finds himself growing more and more excited about the sight of his cum leaking from your ravaged hole. “you must really like it when your big brother fucks you — hm, lillith baby? do you like how deep i can get, deep in your tummy?” he continues to ramble, grabbing your ass cheeks to peel them apart — letting out a deep and wild gripe from his chest at the sight of strings of your clear arousal glueing the fleshy globes together. “love how you throw it back on me. keep coating your nii-san’s cock in your pretty juices. gush for me, make me shine with your cum.”

you nod and do as geto says, simpering out for even more while you work yourself back on his swelling girth as it shines with milky white. you can no longer keep up with what’s happening, your brain actually lags at the way your faux big brother coos your name while your sexes sing a lewd song of pap, pap, pap. lust courses through your veins and burns at your nerve endings, you should feel disgusted with yourself but nothing makes sense. you feel like you’re high, and you don’t want to come back down. at this point, all you can do is lay down and take it, clenching around suguru’s hard cock where it counts — pulling more precum from his heavy breeder’s balls.

“nii-san…more, ‘m right there—“ you sob, reaching back with bambi eyes that plead for another kiss. you allow suguru to fuck you at his own free will, too weak to keep up.

“right here, imouto? against this sweet spot, baby sis?” you get a little tighter every time he calls you his little sister, creaming around his base and crying out his name as if it’s a fucking prayer. “you want me to breed you that bad, baby sis? want my cum deep in your little sister cunt?”

you beg for it through tears and suguru makes you cum again just like he promised. your third orgasm of the night renders you completely useless, a silent scream tearing in your throat while you seizes up and trap suguru deep inside of your fluttering cunt. it’s so fucking cute to him, how much you gush when you orgasm, like a rushing river that never stops flowing. it’s almost as if the flood gates have opened up or heaven has rained down on geto’s fat cock.

that’s all he needs for his own orgasm to be triggered, he collapses on top of you from behind as he empties his balls inside of your womb with a shout of your name. “‘m sorry little one, ‘m sorry… so fucking sorry.” he says hoarsely, cock pulsing while a wave of his cream lines your pussy from the inside — he doesn’t ever let up, fucking you through it all until both of your sexes are raw and abused beyond repair. “i love you, baby sis… imouto. s-shit, i love you so much.” your hole burns by the time suguru comes down, and you swear he feels bigger now that his dick is swollen with his orgasm.

suguru is still cumming in spurts when he pulls out of you with a hiss, painting your puffy folds white, the rest leaking out of your entrance. “im so sorry… I have no idea where that came from…” he starts to apologise tiredly. “that was…”

you remain silent for a moment, mulling over what to say next as suguru rolls off of you, and lays by your side quietly. you flip onto your back, staring up at the artificial lights hanging from the ceiling. you liked this, whatever the hell it was… even if it meant he was fucking you to fuck his unresolved feelings out for his sister.

“amazing… yeah.” is the response that you settle on.

“that’s…that’s not what i meant.”

“and i know that! you don’t have to apologise,” you cut him off abruptly, keeping your voice softly. “i liked it, whatever weird kink this is, it made me feel good.”

geto flushes hot all over, sheepishly running a hand through his sweaty black locks. “my sister… she’s not seriously my blood sister. she’s adopted and—“ he’s so sheepish and right after ruining you beyond belief that it makes you laugh in pure amusement. “a-and i like you! quite a bit. i know this was… strange… but with your permission. i’d like to keep seeing you.”

“and fucking me?” you tease, tucking yourself into the man’s side while nuzzling your face into his neck. he smells like you, he smells like sex…but you’re satisfied.

his arm loosely wraps around your waist, thumbing over any bruises he might have left there. “that too.”

“what about the gifts?”

“those won’t stop either.”

finally, you sit up, looming over geto as you tuck your braids behind your ear and out of your face. cupping suguru’s jaw, you lean over him and place a somewhat upside down kiss to the man’s lips — then brush over their cherry red bruising. “then you have yourself a deal — now please help me clean up, sugu. i don’t want to get fired.”

it’s his turn to laugh next. “i’ll just take care of all your expenses if you do.”

you roll your eyes.

this new dynamic, this new fling…it’s unhealthy, yeah. but as long as suguru has someone like you to look out for and need him. he thinks he’ll be okay.

getting over his sister was the key to healing. just like his purple nailed therapist had said — so focusing on you was healing him. before either of you can move to help clean up, suguru reaches up slowly and cups your neck tenderly. he brings you down to his level, his fingers wrapping around the silver chain swinging loosely from your neck before pressing a kiss to the amethyst pendant there.

869 notes · View notes

trainingdummyrabbit · 6 months

Note

ok your posts have got me so curious what is lobcorp and who is Angela I am dying to know

ohhhhhh anon. im so glad you asked. youve activated my infodump trap card. we are gonna be here a lilwhile, but i will try to keep it short regardless.

[inhale] lobcorp, also known as lobotomy corporation, is a multitasking monster-management game, part of a series of games from the producers Project Moon. it starts as a very simple "dystopian setting manage the monsters and sometimes employees die nbd" sort of game, but then rapidly, intensely spirals the more you play. its notoriously difficult but also ridiculously fun and satisfying to get correctly. you are expected to fail and retry multiple times, so much so that it is an active in-narrative plot point.

you play as the manager of L corp, named X, and angela is your Helpful AI Assistant here to help you make energy efficiently and be the best manager you can be. :] by making energy. nothing else. dont worry about it.

lobcorp as a game has absolutely Fantastic characters, and Doubly so in its sequel Library of Ruina. its a series that focuses on character growth, cycles of violence, autonomy, the definition of humanity and personhood... and just. so, so much more. its so full of The Horrors.

. this, of course, is the very basics of getting into the game. i am going to explain everything very vaguely and very messily. i'll spoilercut in case you're interested in looking spoilerless based off of this, (extra post abt it [here] if youd like to check it out yourself) but i will Try to keep it vague. i make no promises. youve asked me about my favorite character. that i have previously spent 6 hours straight explaining to a friend. you understand. here we go.

////

lobcorp takes place inside a monster-management facility... that is, in and of itself, a closed-off timeloop. in order to progress, certain events and interactions must happen in a very specific way for its ultimate goal to be realized. should something go wrong or a mistake occur, the loop resets to day 1, and you must do it all over again.

angela, your ai assistant, was built to be the perfect person to keep you, the manager, on-track for a plan of your own making. dont worry about it. she was built to be able to seamlessly and efficiently move things along-- the ability to feel emotion to be able to connect with employees and make crucial decisions, the ability to recall anything that has ever happened regardless of the loop, and the ability to perceive time much, much slower than a normal human to make judgements more efficiently.

she guides and supports you all the way up until the final leg of the journey, where... she simply doesnt show up again. she has done her job, and you no longer need her. you have a plan to finish, and an incalculably long time loop to finally close. everybodys suffering results in a happy ending, and everyone gets to rest. ^w^ yay yippee!

. just kidding. nothing is ever easy. angela, as a character, is seemingly set up to be a game mechanic and very little more, in the beginning. eventually, more comes up about her as the game progresses, and well...

...anyway imagine being built to be an imitation of somebody you are not in a broken individual's deepest throes of grief, and the minute you become conscious the guy you were built to love hates you simply because you exist-- because you are not the person he lost, because you're a shoddy imitation, mirroring everything he hates... that he made to be that way, in a cruel act of self-loathing. ok?

now imagine you're built to feel, built to remember, and then forced to guide a timeloop countless years long, forced to follow a script that makes you harm people you desperately want to protect and connect to, causing them to hate you. you remember every bit of harm you had to impose on them in painful detail. imagine doing all this so that your creator can come in and fix all of their problems after youve set the stage. ok?

now imagine you finally do everything right. you finally, finally help this guy to see his plan to fruition, and in the last steps of everything, when everyone comes together and finally starts to move towards their own endings... nobody looks back for you. nobody thinks to look to you, to look for you. because nobody thinks youre anything more than an object.

imagine all that, and once, finally, you start to Want. because of course, after holding everything up by yourself, you would want something more than to fade away wordlessly. of course, after all this mistreatment, you would want a future too. this story was set up so that everyone could grow and move forward-- except you. isnt that cruel? isnt that horrible? so, truly, who would really blame you for taking what you truly deserve? who could blame you for reaching for the same light they did? so what if it means you have to destroy everything you-- everything they worked for with your own hands. they can hate you all they want-- its no different from what it's been. you only have one goal now, and simply, it is to Live.

. Library of Ruina is the sequel to Lobotomy Corporation following a curious machine trying to become human. angela becomes one of two main characters, and the entire game functions as a dialogue on her growth as a character now that she finally has the autonomy to learn and change. she searches for the One True Book, something that will grant her humanity and the freedom to live, grow, and most importantly: forget.

along with the second primary character, roland, they learn more about the city and how it truly functions-- and also learn about themselves, And each other.

what do you do when you teach yourself all you can do is survive and look out for yourself-- when you finally open back up to the possibility of hope and connection, and everything is ripped out from under you yet again for circumstances out of your control? what do you do when you're a victim of a cycle of horrific deeds, crushed beneath the weight of people who couldn't care less about you, and your only hope of escaping alive is to pull down anyone else in your way?

what do you do when you finally free yourself from a seemingly endless gauntlet of suffering, finally grasping power youd never been able to have before, all in the name of finally, finally getting the vengeance and resolution you deserve? when you follow the path set in front of you, set by actions of people who came before you, spiralling endlessly into the distance? what do you do when this guise of distance and coldness you put up is rightfully challenged and you have no way of defending yourself-- when you have to question what if this "self" youve made of yourself is truly who you are... and if this path ahead is truly of your own choosing, or the making of someone whose influence you could never really shake off.

what does it mean to have autonomy when your life is never truly yours?

lobotomy corporation and library of ruina, aka: Who Wants To Be Part Of The Torture Nexus ? Try Now !

#pikasks #long post #projmoon #THIS IS . HEAVILY ABRIDGED. STILL LONG POST.#IHAD TO REWRITE TH SPOILER PORTION. THREEE TIMES. WROTE IT HALF ASLEEP ALSO.#IAM SO SERIOUS THO IAM LEAVING OUT SO SO MUCH. i dont want to write a whole actual essay because i Will and ouhghghg #i tried to pick at context and thematic setup for angies character to get a Base Understanding of why shes Like That but #again. im leaving so much out.#she is such a fantastically written character and i will never ever be over it.#PLEAS at the very least consider looking at th series at face value bc its WRITING.............. THE WRITING.#OK. THANKYOU FOR YOUR PATIENCE. <33

37 notes · View notes

ohwell-itsme-but-danganronpa · 2 months

Text

The age-old question: Is Kokichi the villain?

Ves: this one whiplashes back and forth from objectively correct to SO SO WRONG so much idk how to feel

Me: well, they're right on their main point and simplified some things to get there and at the end he's an anti-hero, not a villain

Ves: i get being frustrated with woobfication but acting like the cast NEVER treated him unfairly is. UHHHHH Kokichi Is An Asshole, But! - my thesis statement also "bragging about how he got two people killed without a hint of genuine remorse" not a HINT!? NOTHING?? YOU CAN'T REMEMBER A SINGLE THING FROM THAT POSTTRIAL THAT SEEMED REMORSEFUL TO YOU!? 'start looking at him as a villain instead of a clueless victim' this is NOT a zero sum game both of those options r wrong

Me: they treated him Like That before he earned it and in his speech at the end of the 4th trial there's a portion when he says he's just stepping up to what's expected from him

Ves: NO LITERALLYYY THE SCENE IN THE DEATH ROAD LIKE….

Me: he was asking to be executed too, but sure, no remorse

Ves: what are we defining as remorse?? because that seems like literally the most remorseful a person could get to me oohhh i forgot remorse can mean REGRET yeah he's not very regretful neither is gonta! they're both crushed w guilt but that's not the same i guess

Me: the whole. everyone believing him when the lies fit what they want to see. bullshit he's a liar until he's saying he's evil, until he's taking something back, because surely he wouldn't lie about lying without saying the catchphrase

Ves: yeag like,,,when it's 'half my lies are told with good intentions' and 'i'm just trying to give gonta good advice, he'll get killed being so naive' and 'monokuma is going to make you suffer for cooperation like he did kaede' and so on and so on…. that's DEFINITELY a lie guys

Me: he left room to be seen through, he gave hints, he gave so many opportunities for them to get it, that he can't be doing it openly, but they went in with pre-packaged distrust specifically for him I love the theory that Tsumugi had them brainwashed to be opposed to him as a default to push him into his role

Ves: you're right but i wouldn't even describe it as HINTS, he has TWO SEPARATE MONOLOGUES about the danger of public cooperation that honestly monokuma should've clocked [sob emoji] but that's getting more into danganronpa writing than kokichi's morals i love giving him stuff that makes them inherently unnerved by him from the beginning

Me: this is also related to how much of "script" I believe there was for the game, I think they were given cues for how they're supposed to feel, little unconscious suggestions, a vague outline set with motives, nothing actually set in stone, the flashback making machine wouldn't need multiple options if there was a whole defined script that's expected to be executed to a t

Ves: i always thought tsumugi's claim that everything was scripted didn't. make sense. but i can never really feel out how much of it was

Me: she gave them roles, and then left them to improvise, she also has a lot of lines that cue you in on what she wants you to think of other characters, she wouldn't need to be doing that if she already controlled what you thought of them, but she's checking in, if you'll agree

Ves: truuuuee the way she talks about gonta always makes me shudder and the way she talks about kokichi always makes me giggle SNDJBHSHF she's sooo bitchy about him i love her

Me: she wants to shoehorn him into being a classic antagonist so bad and he just doesn't fit, like, I could swear she makes a reference to Nagito at least once when talking about him

Ves: THE WAY SHE TALKS ABT RANTAROU FITS THAT REALLY WELL TOO she KEEPS bringing up him being the fanservice character a playboy and he keeps shooting her down

Me: She fucking hates Rantaro and it's so funny, what did he dooo that finally puts her calling him a normie in a context, he ruined a cliché she was trying to pull, that's punishable by death

Ves: it's like when she yells at shuuichi in the FTEs for trying to say she isn't plain

Sini: I will say this, even though he did in fact show remorse in that instance I can’t blame the others for still being bitchy and pissed with him. Even if he had a good reason, which he did, what he did was still majorly fucked up. He was an asshole throughout the whole trial, an asshole to Gonta until that one moment, and then led him to his brutal death. I’m not saying how they treated him at that moment was good, but they aren’t really going to be thinking too rationally after all that. Ig one thing you could say is that they tend to not treat other culprits like Kirumi that way, but in that case I’d say they should’ve overall had written the characters reactions post trial or what not differently in general

Ves: oh no i absolutely think how the characters treat kokichi after ch4 is justified. i just think the op's casual dismissal is. UHHHH shoulda specified i was talking abt them and not the cast, sorry! kokichi was absolutely an asshole and deserved to get treated like one, but i think op fell too in line with the characters

Me: it was a situation where everyone sucked, nobody ever could begin to be equipped to deal with this shit, and so, nobody handled it well the end of the world was involved

Sini: Yeah, like, he’s a liar. Everyone only assumed he must be lying when trying to be helpful or didn’t mean well when he was spitting straight facts. No one bothered to listen to him. I get he’s an asshole, but fuck man, they cozied up to Maki. Wth is her excuse?

Ves: maki is the wall i always run into here maki is just as mean as he is and FARRR more dangerous but. her being an assassin was added later than her being a waifu

Mauri: i love maki. but in canon why the fuck did everyone love her she choked him out after he revealed that she was a fucking TRAINED KILLER and no one was worried abt that ??? kodaka dont make every single female character waifu bait challenge (almost impossible bc miu my love my life)

Ves: they literally cut to the next day when they're all looking through her lab and not ONCE do they comment on how that debacle…ended. DID ANYONE HELP HIM???

Sini: If Kokichi was a girl, I swear, things would’ve been a little different

Ves: if kokichi was a girl but written the same ppl'd say he EATS BABIES if he was written like kodaka likes to write women he WOULD eat babies but it'd be like, fine

Sini: Kokichi literally revealed a threat to the cast. And yet they still treat him like he’s this big villain….WHAT? Okay, but literally people treat Celeste better than Kokichi. Celeste is worse than Kokichi in everyway (personality wise)

Me: Celeste is evil in such a simple way, it's easy to brush over she's just greedy, a materialistic girl in a materialistic world, who could blame her? murder? god forbid women do anything

Sini: She’s very slay, but it’s just shitty cause you know people only excuse her cause she’s a cute girl

#danganronpa #ndrv3 #kokichi ouma #kokichi oma #miu iruma #gonta gokuhara #tsumugi shirogane #rantaro amami #shuichi saihara #kirumi tojo #maki harukawa #nagito komaeda #celestia ludenberg #dr thh #talking canon

13 notes · View notes

fighterkimburgess · 2 years

Text

This Wasn’t Supposed To Happen Chapter 10 - Becoming A Family

Summary: Kelly Severide has had a lot of changes in his life over the last few months. Series masterlist here.

Words: 2.1k

Warnings: none

Wanna join my taglist?

—

Kelly Severide knew nothing about being a father. Benny had been a shit dad, as evidenced by his step- no, half brothers not even knowing he existed. By Katie thinking he was gonna run away when she needed support. He’d never do that, but the only male role model in his life was always good at that.

He’d thought being dad to a girl would be easier. Daddy’s little princess, Disney movies and tea parties. But instead he had a six month old dropped into his lap and he still wasn’t fully sure what to do with him.

Andy was an easy baby, at least. The kid had spent so much time in hospital that he never got into a crying routine. Kelly learned how he liked to be held, the way he liked to drink his bottles, how it all worked. But it was still weird.

He’d started putting Andy into a carrier on his chest instead of a stroller, but the female attention he got was weird. It wasn’t getting attention, he was a good looking guy and knew he was, but that it increased whenever he had Andy there. He was in the grocery store, staring at the jars of baby food for weaning when a woman came up to him.

“Your son is adorable! How old is he?” She asked, looking down at Andy’s dark hair that was beginning to curl at the ends.

“He’s n…he’s seven months.” A stranger didn’t need to know the truth.

“He’s adorable. What’s his favourite flavour?”

“We’re working it out.” Technically he was still on the early end of weaning, as the last paediatrician visit had taught him. They were told to expect Andy to be about two months behind on milestones because of being premature, so he was only just getting to the point of being able to be weaned.

“Well if you ever want to talk about it I can give you my number?” She batter her eyelashes, and who even did that nowadays?

“Thanks, but his mom and I have it under control.” At the mention of another parent in his sons life she backed off, but the fact that it took saying Andy had a mom just pissed him off.

It was chilly with Sylvie, they talked on calls and they talked about Andy and that was it. If it wasn’t work or their boy related then it didn’t get discussed. Which felt weird, but it was what Sylvie wanted.

Getting out of that community center and realising that she was still in there was one of the most terrifying moments of his life. He knew he’d fucked up multiple times, he knew he was in the wrong. But she was caring for Andy too, and she was a good person. Better than he was. And he’d convinced her to marry him before he’d fucked it all up.

The mortification after he’d yelled at her in work had set in, and he suddenly realised just how much he’d screwed up on multiple levels. The disgusted looks on the faces of his coworkers just summed it up. He’d grabbed his bag to leave when Capp caught his arm and pulled him to one side.

“Look, this isn’t my place but you were out of line, Man. I don’t know what’s happened between you and Brett. I don’t want to know why the two of you were friends and went to Vegas and then stopped talking, but I’m assuming that you slept together because she’s acting like an ex. But that…that was out of line. She cared for that kid alone for months while you were grieving. She lost her best friend and had to take Andy home alone and raise him on her own. Everyone in this house helped her raise him until she finished maternity leave. So just…she could have left. She could have walked away, she didn’t have to do this. But she did.” He’d known Capp for too many years but had never heard the man be as honest and forthright as he was being right then.

“I fucked up, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, you did. And you know as well as I do that she’ll forgive you because she’s that kind of person. But a second time? She won’t do it a third.”

“I know.”

“Good.” The older man slapped his back. “Going to pick Andy up?”

“Yeah. See you on shift.”

It was into his new car - and that was a change for him, Kelly Severide now driving a four door sedan instead of his mustang. Andy’s seat was secure in the back and the drive to the Herrmanns didn’t take long. It was picking up Andy and getting a hug from him before leaving. He was out before Herrmann arrived back to the house with the baby buckled in his seat and on the way to therapy.

Sitting in a room telling a near stranger everything he was embarrassed about was not exactly how Kelly enjoyed spending days off, but Derrick was kind. He understood that Kelly had to bring Andy every second appointment and was fine with it, playing with Andy when needed. But the sessions helped.

He talked about the cultural center, about hearing Sylvie say there was someone with a gun over the radio.

“It was terrifying. There was gunshots and I didn’t know where she was. And then I found out she went out of her hiding place to help someone while there was an active shooter there. She’d be gone if CPD hadn’t arrived on time.” He jiggled Andy carefully, trying to keep him happy despite the serious topic. Thankfully he couldn’t understand.

“Did you tell Sylvie you were scared for her?”

“I told her she was irresponsible and what would I do if I had to tell Andy he lost another mother. And she reamed me out, just like she was supposed to.”

“How did you feel?”

“I mean I deserved it. I just…she went and did it without thinking.”

“And you do that every time you go into a fire. She was doing her job just like you do. What would you have done in her shoes?”

It was an uncomfortable silence for a few minutes as Kelly thought over what Derrick had said.

“Exactly what she did. I shouldn’t have talked to her like that. Especially not in front of everyone. I screwed up. She deserves an apology.”

“Yeah, she does. But at least you’ve realised that so you’re doing the work. Can you talk to her before your next shift?”

“I can try.”

They finished with Kelly getting homework for his next appointment around his temper and trying to calm it. Andy was nearly asleep by the time they made it back to the apartment, with a diaper change he was out cold.

Kelly managed to get his own nap in before waking to cooing and murmuring from the baby monitor. It was up and dressing Andy before feeding him while Kelly drank coffee. The TV was on and silent, and he watched as Andy’s attention was drawn to the screen.

“Mama!” He yelled as a blonde woman came on screen. Kelly watched as he repeated the action when she came back in screen. He opened up his phone and went into his camera roll, scrolling back over a year to the photos from Vegas. There was one he’d taken of Sylvie just after they’d gotten married, a grin on her face as she wore her veil, her ring visible in the shot. She looked beautiful, and he hated that he hadn’t seen her smile in so long.

“Who’s this, Andy? Who’s this?”

“Mama! Mamamamamamamama!” He cooed at the screen, Sylvie’s smiling face at Kelly.

He missed her. He missed talking to her, he missed the way she’d brought peace to the firehouse when she came. Even with everyone doing double takes she was just herself and made them happy. She was a good person, and he missed getting to spend time with her.

There was a spare room in the three bed apartment, he couldn’t face moving into what had been Matt and Gabby’s room. He’d heard the conversations she’d had with Violet about needing to find a new place. Parenting fifty percent of the time wasn’t how he wanted to live his life, not anymore. If she moved in then maybe they could live together platonically and raise Andy and have backup. Help for the times when things were tough. It was an insane idea that just might work if he gave it a shot, so he pulled on a jacket and dressed Andy to keep him warm in the November chill.

“Wanna go see Sylvie? Will we talk to Sylvie and see if she’ll even look at me again? Go see your Mama?”

“Mama?” Andy asked, and Kelly just grinned.

“Yeah, lets see your Mama.”

It didn’t take long to get Andy into the car and pull up to Sylvie’s, and the conversation went so much better than he expected it to go. He’d assumed she’d close the door on him, but when Andy showed off his new word she couldn’t do anything but open it and let them in. He could see the way she relaxed taking him in her arms, the easy way she did everything with him on her hip.

That she agreed to move in surprised him, but a week later he was at her apartment to take boxes to the house. The sedan was coming in more useful than he’d expected as she put them into the trunk.

“Thanks for this, Kelly. For all of it.” She seemed almost anxious to say it, but he shook his head in response.

“Thank you. I just…I know I’ve fucked up nearly constantly, and you’ve supported me. Thank you. You gave me a second chance, and more than that. This whole parenting Andy thing is hard but I’m really glad we’re doing it together.” He was shocked when Sylvie reached over and hugged him, holding him close. It was the first time she’d hugged him since their wedding night.

“We’ve got him. It’s not easy, but we’ll make sure he’s happy and healthy and loved.”

It was weird when they picked Andy up from the Herrmanns together, Cindy staring at them walking up the drive with their boy in her arms. But Andy’s immediate “Mama!” Made Sylvie grin and take him, pressing soft kisses to his face.

“Yeah baby I’m here. Were you good for Cindy? Were you the good boy I know you can be?” Coos and giggles were the only response, Andy grabbing onto her hair as she held him.

“Thanks for watching him today. We were able to get everything done.”

“So you’re all moved in?”

“Close enough to. Boxes to empty and things to sort, but it’s mostly done. We needed to get it all organised before we could bring this munchkin home.”

They said their goodbyes and Sylvie buckled Andy into his seat, Kelly driving them back to the apartment via a Thai place he liked. They spent dinner feeding Andy between them while eating, but once he was down for a night Sylvie stayed in her room.

They managed to build their routines, working with each other and Andy to what he wanted. Every second night they’d be on call for him at night, but he mostly slept through. Having a second adult there made life so much easier for Kelly, and Sylvie agreeing easily to take Andy so he could go to therapy or do what he needed to was a relief. He did the same for her, waving goodbye from the sofa as she left to spend an evening with her friends.

They were off for Thanksgiving and Kelly was banned from the kitchen for the day. He stayed hanging out with Andy, showing him the Macy’s Day Parade and the first football game before Sylvie called that dinner was ready.

Their table groaned under the weight of the dishes, Sylvie cooking for far more than two. Kelly served up food between them as Sylvie sat back and fed Andy from his own bowl of puréed potatoes and veggies. She tried to help with the clearing up but Kelly sent her to the couch and did the dishes. Once Andy was asleep for the night he handed Sylvie a slice of pie and a glass of wine, the two sitting opposite each other.

“I’m really thankful we’re living together,” Kelly murmured as he took a sip of his beer, watching Sylvie pause as he spoke.

“I’m glad I live here too. We’re giving him the family we want to, aren’t we?”

“Yeah we are.”

Sylveride taglist: @sylviebrettisaswiftie @thewannabewriter @andycasey06 @brockreynolds @cynthia1guardia @oracle23 @kellykidd @averyhotchner @dedlund82 @waywardhunter @brookerz122493 @tvshowsaremyhappyplace @smileswithgrace @angelsjedi @farfarawaygirl

#Sylveride #sylvie brett x kelly severide #kelly severide x sylvie brett #sylvie x kelly #kelly x sylvie #sylvie brett #kelly severide #cíara writes #this wasn’t supposed to happen fic

51 notes · View notes

heiterbroward · 3 years

Text

Hsm: the waste: the series

Ok so right off the bat, is anyone else bothered by noticing that multiple different relationships seem to be developing the same dynamic? The guys all become huge simps for the girls just for the couple to actually get together and for it to reverse w the girl having to give the guy constant reassurance bc he's insecure for whatever reason.

This was especially seen w Redlyn's plot. How was she supposed to know what his dreams were if he never said? Especially since he always acts embarrassed about the tap dancing...like maybe Ashlyn misinterpreted it and thought he was too scared to pursue that in the future or something. Also why was he so jealous of the French guy? Was Ashlyn supposed to tell him to let her fall that one time? It's not like Big Red was there to catch her. Also don't like how their season plot started w her being insecure about playing Belle just for him to give her one sentence of vapid praise and then it was never brought up again. Also, saying "you're perfect" when she's feeling insecure doesn't really help like he might think it would bc it kind of just invalidates Ashlyn's insecurity and makes it seem like she's ridiculous for even thinking about it. Whatever Gina said seemed to give her more comfort. But then the rest of their S2 arc was spent w him getting insecure about something every episode and her having to reassure him that she actually likes him.

This also happened w Rini although not for long bc Nini peaced out after a sec, and I'm worried it might happen w Portwell, but I'll get to those dweebs in a min. Also why did Mr. M become totally whipped for Miss Jenn this season? I liked when their dynamic was more balanced; now, it seems like he is madly in love w her and she got the ick from him. Luckily, I care about them zero percent!

Another thing is that the competition was ultimately pointless af! Like I knew it wouldn't be satisfying whether they won or lost, but they didn't even reveal it? Ok? Wasted the whole yr ig! Miss Jenn became mentally disturbed for what? Plus wouldn't it make more sense if they didn't open the results at the end bc they realized how much the Menkies tore them apart this year bc they only cared about winning and lost sight of their passion? But no...they maintained throughout the whole time that they're still a big happy family, so I guess the awards didn't affect them? Besides just making them indifferent to the results for some bizarre reason.

Why is this show so anti-ambition? Heart and ambition don't have to be mutually exclusive. When Nini went to YAC (so damn irrelevant but anyways...), she was iced out of the friend group and portrayed as lonely and miserable and bored bc she chose to pursue her ambition rather than stay w her friends at East High. I get the point they were trying to make, but Nini seems like an ambitious character who just hadn't gotten the chance to explore that side of herself bc she never believed in herself enough to go for it. Oh well ig she has to give it up for Ricardo and her friends. Also, Gina's whole thing about "taking a step back" it's like...from what? You get no leads (except offscreen pre-pilot ig? Idk). And now, they have to prove they only care about family by not checking if they won even though there's nothing inherently wrong w being competitive as long as you're not undermining people to achieve your goals. Like are they gonna act like they weren't spying on the other school and making diss tracks back to them instead of rehearsing? But that wasn't addressed.

And tbh it made it seem like Miss Jenn only wanted to drop out bc she was nervous to perform against Derek Hough bc otherwise why was that scene w her and Seblos talking about it included? But now she can have an out while also taking the moral high-ground and claiming they quit bc they're above it or something. Self reflection = none. Also love how she was willing to go get pizza for Ricky but not Carlos. What happened to that dynamic?

Also, why did every episode end w a cliffhanger that was resolved offscreen by the beginning of the next ep? Oh no, Gina's moving! Jk her mom said no. Oh no, EJ has to tell his dad about Duke! Jk they talked offscreen and the dad is ok enough w it (why was it built up so much then?). Oh no, Carlos recorded the Rose Song! Jk Nini doesn't care. Oh no, Ricky and Ashlyn fell! Jk they're fine and can still perform. Oh no, Lily stole the harness! Jk they did Ricky's transformation offscreen and it went great...k guess I'll take your word for it. So much telling instead of showing going on this season.

Something else annoying is how every conflict was the result of miscommunication and how they would spend time resolving problems that were created that episode instead of actually addressing things that were going on. So many passive aggressive elephants in the room and no fights.

Why did Rina seemingly forget who each other is? I don't even ship this, but it makes no narrative sense after they spent so much time giving them dialogue that was exactly what the other needed to hear just for it to result in nothing. Ricky was the first one to say that Gina isn't intimidating and to get her to soften up, and Gina told Ricky she wouldn't quit on them if she was staying. What was the point of that flashback? They had a deep friendship and one they both desperately need when you consider how quickly they jump at any opportunity to connect w someone experiencing similar issues as them (Gina spilled her guts to Jack once she found out he always moves, too and Ricky gained sympathy for Lily once he found out her parents are also divorced). Why didn't they try to talk at all the whole rest of the season? Did they even process their feelings for each other or just to choose to ignore them? Ig ignore them since Gina shifted all her attention to spending 24/7 w EJ and Ricky decided to call up knock-off Gina aka Lily. Are they ever gonna talk again or?

Also Nini and Gina barely scratched the surface of talking about things bc Nini stormed out of the room like she always does to avoid conversations. Rini took too long to break up. The drama should come from the fall out, not the long-ass build up, just to result in a treehouse conversation that summarizes what's been happening instead of digging deeper into either of their mindsets. "We've been miscommunicating all year!" Yeah, we know. But what about Nini reflecting on why she impulsively got back together w Ricky just to, a couple months later, not even be able to say she wants to fight for the relationship? What about Ricky explaining whatever was going on w Gina? How much does Nini even know about that? Couldn't Gina/Nini or Ricky/EJ talk about how it's weird how they keep dating the same people? Or be jealous about it or something? Anything besides ignoring each other!

Seblos was also weird. Why did they spend the first few eps setting up a conflict that Seb is poor and Carlos is rich and keeps making him uncomfortable by buying him things just for it to never be talked about again? And why did Carlos make comments suggesting he was jealous of Seb being in the play w him just for that never to be brought up between the two? The only time they addressed a conflict was when they randomly decided to make up a problem that episode about Seb being insecure about Carlos and other guys or something. Like ok? Couldn't you have addressed all these other issues and passive aggressive comments that have been bubbling beneath the surface instead of making up a new problem just for the episode to have a plot? Bc of course it will never be brought up again next ep.

When did this show become so episodic and plot-based? S1 had more of an overarching plot and more character focus, including different friendship dynamics. But ig this season, people can only talk to the person they're dating. Also why was Carlos so rude and randomly classist this season? It seemed like whenever Seb was upset about something, he would get annoyed as opposed to concerned. And a song (which was Ricky's idea and not even Carlos's) doesn't fix the issue.

Howie was just being weird. Like he was making all faces and acting sus on opening night bc...Kourtney was just SO good! ...Next!

Next up is Portwell and EJ's character development this season in general. Didn't really like it! Everyone is saying EJ had such great character development this season, but why did his entire development happen offscreen? There are also so few remnants of his S1 self that it's almost unbelievable. Like he's no longer the least bit arrogant, ambitious, image-obsessed, etc? And he didn't speak to anyone about this really either. It's like he sat in a room alone by himself for hours and came to all these conclusions himself out of the blue and came back to school the next day a changed man. It would have been more beneficial to see more of this rather than being told about it. They're trying to market EJ as part of the "core 4" but don't want to give him the same relevance and depth as Ricky, Nini, or Gina. Then again, Nini's development has also been totally odd this season. But anyways!

It's also a little annoying that what triggered EJ to want to change was getting cancelled last season. So he realized he wasn't well-liked and therefore decided to get a personality transplant. But sometimes it seems more like he wants to look or feel like a good person rather than it coming from a place of genuine compassion or kindness in his heart.

Like last year, EJ claimed to "love" Nini, but the only pain he feels about their relationship is from shame and a bruised ego? The only thing he's proud about in that relationship is letting her go. You're not proud of building her up and helping her to believe in herself more? You're just happy that you had a chance to step up and be the hero on opening night by "letting her go" back to Ricky. He didn't even really let her go though since she was done w him way before that. Also bc of his relationship w Nini, he's afraid to be rejected again. So which is it? Were you such a bad boyfriend that you have nothing but shame about the way you acted, or do you feel rejected? If he knew he was being a bad boyfriend, he should know why he got rejected.

They try to parallel Gina and EJ's respective heartbreaks, but it's not the same at all. Gina got rejected bc Ricky chose Nini, but EJ got rejected bc of his own actions. It MIGHT make sense if he said he was nervous Gina would reject him bc she still has lingering feelings for Ricky, but of course that was never brought up and he's ok w the chocolates, so...what is he so nervous/confused about? It's like he thinks that last year, he was a "bad guy" and was rejected bc of it, but this year he's trying to be a "good guy" so if he puts in all this effort to do all these gestures for Gina and STILL gets rejected, then he really can't do anything right. He needs to learn to do good deeds from an internal place and not as a way to get validation or to feel like a good person.

I also don't like how he became friends w Gina AFTER it was implied that he had a crush on her. People say they had build up since S1, but there was no consistent friendship. They schemed together once, then he got her the plane ticket, then they didn't talk again until Carlos's party when he looked at her all lovey dovey. I think part of him latches on to the idea of Gina as representing his "goodness" or new start bc the first good deed he did was getting her the plane ticket. This made him feel like a good person, so he wanted to continue doing good deeds, especially for Gina since she helped "change him." But I wish they had maintained an onscreen friendship for a while BEFORE he started developing feelings for her. It's weird that he decided to become friends w her only when she's heartbroken and feeling down and also living at Ashlyn's house.

Like of course she's gonna latch onto you bc she's so lonely and seeking any kind of intimacy/stability. You're basically inserting yourself into the family unit that she's inhabiting, the wondering why she may view you as a brother. It's because all the things you're doing are coming off more like gestures a family member would do to "take care" of someone rather than something romantic. Gina needs a family, and the Caswells are supposed to be her surrogate family. I just don't want her to feel pressured to have romantic interest in him bc he's a nice guy and has been doing so many gestures for her and bc it would be very convenient to date someone in her surrogate family/built in support system. I don't want her feelings for him to be intellectualized and based on logic or for a million other people to have to tell her that she likes him when she had no problem expressing her crushes on Ricky or Jack. What makes EJ any different? Does she like him bc it "makes sense" and bc she is latching onto him for stability or bc she has genuine feelings for EJ and his personality? Not sure bc the show didn't even address her feelings for Ricky or how/if she processed that, so...DID she process that, or is she just jumping headfirst into spending 25/8 w EJ to distract herself from difficult emotions? I would have preferred if she at least sorted things out w Chard THEN made a conscious realization that she liked EJ more and chose to be w him. At least then, the narrative would be direct and intentional.

I just really wish EJ had a storyline outside of Gina being a symbol of his "development," like maybe he could have talked to Nini about their futures since they were both experiencing the same issue about school choices, or maybe do more w Mr. M and behind the scenes work? Also was really annoying that Gina bawled her eyes out more than ever after EJ cancelled their date, even harder than she ever cried about Ricky. It's like she was broken after that so she tried to use EJ as her final chance to build a connection and was depending on him so hard for emotional support, just to be blindsided and left feeling "off-putting" or like she needs to not only run away but also to put her walls back up. Like this was the last straw for her emotionally.

I thought the appeal of Portwell was that while Ricky made her cry and was constantly vague and unclear about his feelings, EJ was consistently there for her and she knew where she stood w him and that he would stay and not let her down. But now EJ is making her cry, too, being vague, and having miscommunication? All for the sake of them having a last minute complication just for it to result in Gina ONCE AGAIN having to be the one to put herself out there and express her feelings to EJ bc he was feeling insecure and din't come talk to her about it. For once, can't someone be the one to confess their feelings to her? Otherwise, what's the difference between Rina and Portwell if she has to deal w the same problems? Like no, SHOW why he's the better option for her, don't make him act stupid just to cause drama for a second. He was pretty intuitive last year about Rini still having feelings for each other, so why is he oblivious this time around? And why did he go talk to Ashlyn about it but not Gina? That's like last season when he talked to Ashlyn about his problems w Nini instead of bringing it up to her. Why does he keep making the same mistakes? Gina needs someone to be direct and secure in their feelings for her. She can't be expected to coddle EJ, who already has way more relationship experience, bc he will make assumptions about her without addressing it to her face and lead w his insecurities even when she is clearly hurt by what he's saying. Could he not tell she was upset he cancelled the date or??

Also unrelated, but why did they make Ricky mess w Nini's phone and delete stuff just like EJ did to her last season? Once again, SHOW why Ricky is the better option for Nini. Otherwise, she might as well have just stayed w EJ if there's no difference anyway, right?

The villains this season were also so irrelevant. Like where did Derek Hough go after he talked to Miss Jenn that one time? And couldn't Lily have been more involved if they're gonna force this plot of her liking Ricky?

With the amount of underdevelopment going on, Nini should have just transferred to North High instead of YAC and had a storyline there about choosing between ambition and friends or whatever. Then, she could've gotten to know Howie, Lily, French guy, etc, and it would intertwine the characters more. And also create more tension for Nini when she finally transfers back to East High and had to compete against her former classmates in the Menkies.

Instead, Lily's only relevance is to randomly have a crush on Ricky even though she spent the whole time manipulating him. Why does he even like her? If I was Big Red, I would get mad bc Lily has done nothing but be cutthroat to his supposed friends and make Ashlyn insecure all season. Doesn't he care about that? Or does he want to ignore his own problems yet again and focus all his energy onto "saving" or "fixing" Lily? He's so codependent. He and Nini both need to stop being so self-centered about their feelings.

I wish Ricky and Nini had developed a genuine passion for theatre by now like Troy and Gabriella did, but it seems like they could always take or leave whether they're in it or not. Does Ricky even have any passions outside of being codependent on girlfriends? The career test suggests not.

And Nina needs to learn to be a better friend. All season, Kourtney has been dealing w shit and her only advice is "you can handle it; you're Kourtney!" Like ok? Kourtney gives you all support and helps build you up, but is expected to figure everything out on her own bc she's "strong" and "independent." That doesn't mean she doesn't also need emotional support!

Plus why were all the songs so overproduced? I like the acoustic feel of S1 bc it added more emotional impact. I felt nothing from any of the songs this season. Cool!

#hsmtmts #rini #rina #portwell #anti rina #anti rini #anti portwell #ricky bowen #nini salazar roberts #gina porter #ej caswell #redlyn #seblos #olivia rodrigo #joshua bassett #matt cornett #sophia wylie #girl meets world

160 notes · View notes

fandom-imagines-stories · 3 years

Text

Run to You Part Three

Derek Morgan x Reader

Words: 1758

Part 3 of 3

Part One; Part Two

Summary: Having been dating for a while, you finally feel comfortable enough to introduce your boyfriend to your daughter, Angelica. Derek takes on the role better than you could have imagined and you start to feel like a family. Then one day, Angelica disappears from a friend’s house and your ex husband starts making demands.

Notes: Is this procedurally correct? Probably not. But here it is! The last part to my Derek Morgan imagine! I hope you guys enjoy this and never forget that replies mean the world! This one kinda feels jumbled, but I hope you still like it. (I’m sorry it took forever! I got caught up with other projects, which I hope to be sharing soon!)

More Criminal Minds: HERE

The swarms of cops were overwhelming. You watched teams and teams of people surrounded the block Dr. Reid was the one that figured out that Lance had brought Angelica to the church that you got married, especially upon the discovery that it was going to be torn down in a few weeks. The idea of losing the one connection to you he had left was likely a trigger.

No one was allowed to get too close. They worried that cornering Lance would make him panic and kill Angelica, so you were forced to stand back and watch. They made sure you weren’t alone, of course, though you weren’t sure if it was to comfort you or to make sure you didn’t try and run in alone. With all of the standing around you were doing, you felt ready to break down the front door.

“Alright, so we’re sending a team around to the back to get in as quickly and quietly as possible. That’ll be me, Prentiss and a couple of the local P.D.” Derek explained, keeping his eyes locked on yours to make sure you understood that he wasn’t going to let anything happen to your baby.

“He wants me, Derek. What if he knows you’re in there and he panics and he-”

“Hey, listen to me,” He put a hand on your cheek. “I’m not gonna let that happen.” Despite the eyes of his coworkers, he pulled you in for a gentle, reassuring kiss. It did little to calm you down, but just having him there made the situation that much easier. That moment, however, was cut short by the ringing of your phone.

“God, not again.” You cried, pulling the device from your pocket. This time, Derek held out his hand. You gave him a confused look, but handed it to him.

“Mr. Booker.”

“You must be Agent Morgan.” Lance spat. “I know that you and your gang of federal pigs are coming after me. It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter because Y/N will see she’s wrong. I’ll show her she’s wrong.”

“Mr. Booker, we just want Angelica to be safely returned to her mother.”

“What about her father, Agent Morgan? What about me!”

“I want to make this as easy on you as possible, Mr. Booker, but you’ve got to help me out here.”

“Just bring my wife to me and nobody will get hurt.”

“I can’t do that, Lance. You know I can’t do that.” Derek could tell that you were starting to panic from the way your eyes kept darting to the church and you slowly crept closer. He took your hand to keep you from bolting in there.

“If I don’t see her in the next half hour... I’m taking my baby girl with me.” The call ended, but Morgan was already prepping his team to go in.

“Derek, what did he say?” You kept your grip on his hand, following him to join Prentiss.

“Nothing that he hasn’t already said.” He gave you the most reassuring look he could, but he knew that they had to act fast.

“I’m going with you.”

“No. No, baby, you can’t.” He took your face in his hands. “Y/N, I need you to stay here. I need you to be safe. I can’t go get your little girl if I’m worried about you too, okay?” You shut your eyes, feeling more frightened tears slip down your cheeks.

“What if he… what if you don’t get her in time? I need to see her, I-I need-”

“Don’t even think like that, baby.” He looked over your shoulder and motioned to the younger agent to stand beside you. “Now Reid is going to stay here with you, okay?” Reid gave him a small nod and put a comforting hand on your shoulder. Derek kissed your forehead. “I’ll be right back and I’m bringing Angel with me.”

As he walked away, you could feel your body start to shake. This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening. You shut your eyes tight, the foolish part of you hoping that when you opened them, Derek and Angie would be smiling in front of you. But when you finally opened your eyes, all you saw was him walking away.

Morgan moved silently, followed closely by his team. Prentiss was right behind him and the other officers were ready to go. From what they could tell, Lance was in the chapel, keeping Angelica towards the back. The church had multiple entrances with one leading to the basement. This was determined to be the best point of entry since Lance was least likely to hear the team coming.

While you couldn’t see him anymore, your heart beat more with every second. Dr. Reid stood by your side, his presence serving as a small comfort as he listened to the situation through his earpiece. He shifted suddenly and gave you a small, if not nervous, smile.

“They’re in.”

Derek directed the officers to one staircase while he and Prentiss crept up the other. The old floors creaked as they walked, making him wince. He could only hope that Lance couldn’t hear them. They moved fast and efficiently like they would any other raid, but his body was buzzing more than usual. He focused on the image of Angelica and kept going.

“Morgan,” Prentiss stopped suddenly, looking around the corner.

Angelica was seated on top of the old alter, swinging her small legs back and forth while she colored in a tattered psalm book. Booker was nowhere to be found. Morgan and Prentiss approached her slowly, double checking to make sure Lance wasn’t waiting for them. As soon as they were sure, Morgan ran to the little girl.

“Derek!” She cried, throwing her arms around his neck.

“It’s alright, Angel. I’ve got you. It’s going to be okay.” He cradled the back of her head, holding her closed to his chest.

“Sweetheart, I need you to tell us where your dad went.” Prentiss said gently. Angelica just gave her a tearful look and pointed up. The two agents exchanged a look, reaching the same conclusion. Derek motioned to one of the officers and reluctantly handed her a crying Angelica.

“I wanna stay w-with D-Derek!”

“I know, sweetie, but this nice woman is going to take you out to your mama, okay? I have to go find your dad with Emily. I’ll be out before you know it, but I need you to be brave. Can you do that?”

She nodded, but held onto his hand until he had to pull away. Prentiss put a hand on his shoulder.

“Morgan if you need to-”

“No, I want to finish this. I’m not letting that son of a bitch take the easy way out.”

As they made their way to the roof, you were desperately watching the door of the church, gripping Dr. Reid’s hand a little too tightly. Time was ticking and your heart beat faster every second.

Suddenly, a group of officers exited the church. You didn’t see Derek, but at the back of the group, a female officer held Angelica. Immediately dropping Reid’s hand, you sprinted towards her, taking her from the officer’s arms and holding her closer than you ever had. You cried as her hands clung to your shirt, promising yourself to never let her out of your sight again.

On the roof, Derek stared down Lance as he prepared to jump.

“Don’t do it, Mr. Booker.” Prentiss said, carefully taking a step towards him.

“There isn’t a point anymore.” The man swayed back and forth, almost losing his balance. “I just wanted us to be a family again.”

“Killing yourself won’t fix what you did all those years ago, Lance.”

“I loved Y/N. I swear I did. But I kept hurting her. I kept hurting her and now my daughter doesn’t even know who I am.”

“Is this how you want Angelica to remember you? The man who hurt her mom and took her away?” Derek inched closer, careful not to provoke him into jumping. “If you die now, that’s all she’ll know.”

“Don’t come any closer!” Lance screamed, but he had stopped swaying.

“Lance, you can spend the rest of your life giving her something good to remember. You owe her that much.” A darker part of Derek wanted Lance to know the pain that he inflicted upon you and your family, but the words he said now were true. The best thing Lance could do was try to redeem himself after everything he had done.

“I...I… okay.” Lance seemed in a daze as he stepped off of the ledge. Prentiss cuffed him and the two led him back downstairs.

Lance left the church first, making your heart sink. You almost didn’t recognize him. He was just a shell, nothing like the man you knew all those years ago. Maybe, one day, you would learn to feel sorry for him, but for now, as you watched him be loaded into the patrol car, you only felt relief.

“Derek!” Angelica squealed, reaching out her arms. You whirled around and felt another sob escape your throat.

The team watched Derek run to you, taking both you and Angelica in his arms. Prentiss finished getting Booker into the car and joined Hotchner, Reid, and Rossi.

“That’s not something I thought I’d see.” She whispered with a smile.

“Did you not think we’d get to the little girl on time?” Reid asked.

“No,” She motioned to the trio in front of them. A family. “Derek falling in love.” The rest of the team smiled and separated into their designated vehicles.

The crowd shouted and cheered as Angelica sprinted towards home plate. Visitors 3, Home team 6. You cheered louder than anyone. Well, maybe not anyone.

“That’s right! You can’t touch her!” Penelope screamed at the other team’s players. Everyone from the BAU had shown up. Over the past few months, you’d gotten to know all of them pretty well, even earning Penelope’s approval.

“She’s good.” Emily smiled at you. You nodded.

“She has a good coach.” You looked down at the dugout where Derek was waiting to give Angel a high-five. You must have caught his eye because he beamed up at you with that knockout smile. You grinned back.

“You guys seem really happy.” J.J. mused, giving you a supportive smile. You nodded, keeping your eyes on Derek.

“Yeah.” You waved down at him and your daughter as she came in for her victory. “We are.”

General Tag: @rae-gar-targaryen; @takemepedropascal; @childhood-imagination; @mylovegoesto; @yellowbadgergirl; @itmejado; @suckmyapplejacks

Series: @ weasleytommy, @ lowsodiumfreaks67, @panhoeofmanyfandoms, @ literallyprentissstwin, @ yallgotkik

#derek morgan x reader #criminal minds imagine #derek morgan #Shemar Moore #dr. spencer reid #emily prentiss #criminal minds #Penelope Garcia #a little messy #but thats okay

282 notes · View notes

volleychumps · 4 years

Note

I saw your headcanons for a s/o who is a year younger and I loved it! I was wondering if you could do the same for kenma, kuroo, and matsukawa please. 🥺🥺💗

ANSKJNDSKJN Okay so I got multiple requests on a continuation for this one, so I’ll be choosing from the best boys requested~

Dating a S/O Who’s a Year Younger Than Them w/ Kenma, Kuroo, Matsukawa, and Daichi

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

Kenma

- “I’m your senior.” “A senior that needs his junior to look after him, so don’t try me, and eat-”

- looks away as you click your tongue, eyes focused on his console as you hold the juice box for him, eating your own lunch with the other hand as he sips the juice

- “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” “Right. Want me to bend the straw for you?”

- pauses his console to look at your giggling figure with a slight pout, causing Lev and Inuoka to share a scoff from not far away in their places in the courtyard for lunch

- “She literally babysits you, dude.” “I’m looking for who asked.”

- ignores your scolding for being mean to Lev as Kenma finishes his game and the rest of his lunch, laying his head down in your lap before closing his eyes and cuddling into your thighs

- “I’m going to sleep now.” humming contentedly as you run your fingers through his hair, chewing your bread as you meet Lev and Inuoka’s bewildered expressions with a what? look on your face

- “Seriously, how do you put up with this guy?” “You get used to the random ass cat-naps and actions of a rebellious 12 year old-”

- bitch the fuck you know he’s def not asleep yet

- Frowns, keeping his eyes closed at your words before feeling his breath hitch when you peck his forehead affectionately, still running your fingers through his hair, smiling down at his peaceful form

- “But I like him. A lot.”

- stirs slightly, opening his eyes to your smiling face before meeting your loving gaze with a small smile

- “I like you too-” “That and he doesn’t force me to call him senpai when I’m more of a senior to him than he is.”

- “I change my mind. I’m going back to sleep.” “Kenma I was joKING-”

- Throws his empty juice box at Lev’s head without missing a beat at his “Were you really, though?”

Kuroo

- “Senpai, no.” “Senpai, yes- why don’t you want me to talk to you in the halls, kitten?”

- meets you with a lmao what stare when you explain you don’t want people to talk bad about him for dating his junior before throwing his head back laughing, ignoring the stares of the passerby’s

- “Wait, you aren’t laughing. You’re serious?!” “Stop making fun of me, I’ll see you after school, okay?”

- Doesn’t let you get very far when you try to brush past him, pouting when Kuroo catches your wrist with a smirk on his relaxed features before tugging you into a tight embrace

- “God, you’re so cute...” “I-I said-”

- hugs you a little more, making a show of it as his lips find the spot next to your ear, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks as he grins in satisfaction

- “I heard you. But frankly, sweetheart- to put it nicely, I don’t give a shit.”

- Well damn then okay

- wants to wash away any insecurity you might have about your relationship with the captain as he pulls back, humming when he sees your fellow students staring as you dig your face into his chest embarrasedly

- “Yep. This one’s mine, to all you who can’t mind their own business. Y/N L/N is officially off the market!” “Kuroo, stop-!”

- You gulp as his eyes shine over with it’s playful edge, placing his hand on your cheek amusedly before tilting his head

- “Oh, so it’s Kuroo now?”

- lmao what a cocky lil hoe

- “S-Senpai, please stop...” “Then will you let me walk my goregous girlfriend to class?”

- grins victoriously at your shy nod before whistling as he tugs you in the direction as if nothing happened, grin widening when he feels the hold on his hand tighten a little more

- “You’re honestly the worst.” “Mhm. You love it.”

Matsukawa (I’M SCREAMING SOMEONE REQUESTED HIM, FINALLY)

- “Nooo don’t be mad at me.” “Don’t be mad? You really hit me with Senpai for the first time in that situation?”

- pretends to be annoyed as he walks ahead of you, hearing you not far behind as your giggles fill his ears, making his heart race at the sound of it as he imagines your pouting face

- You pout when he continues to walk silently, staring at the back of his head as you reflect back on your prank of pouting at him after you had cut your finger in class, jogging up to him and his third-year friends when the final bell rang

- “Senpai, will you kiss my cut?”

- he really froze up like that someone save this man

- choked and glared at you through blushing cheeks as Hanamaki goes to stand next to you, following in suit with his own pout

- “Yeah, will you, senpai?” “Get the hell out of here, you creep.” as he tugs you away, leading to the current situation as you puffed your cheeks out as your boyfriend continued to walk “irritatedly” along home

- “I was kidding, Issei.” You whine a little when he continues to ignore you, yelping when he turns suddenly, looking down at you from his height as he fights the grin when you cutely bump into his chest

- meets your eyes with an even stare as he deadass pulls the anime move of putting the tip of your finger in his mouth, silencing you and your whines as the third-year smirks

- “Look who’s blushing now.” “Okay fine, I won’t call you senpai anymore. Happy?”

- frowns when the roles reverse, you walking ahead of him with flushed features and a dazed look in your eye as Matsukawa laughs, catching you in a hug from behind before you can get far

- “Nah. Call me that when you want, babe.” “Then why pretend to be mad?”

- Shrugs, smiling into your shoulder as you fidget, feeling his strong arms tighten around your torso

- “Don’t call me senpai with other third years around. What if Oikawa actually kissed your cut-?” “That’s what you were mad about?!”

Daichi

- “Call him senpai. He’ll love it.” “Sugawara-senpai, are you sure about this?”

- You quirk an eyebrow as the best friend of your boyfriend nods knowingly, smiling kindly with a different intent as he puts a hand on your shoulder to add to the effect of being serious

- Suga you little shit

- “Trust me, Y/N. It’s-” “Am I interrupting, you two?”

- wraps his arms around you from behind, surprising you as Daichi rests his chin on the top of your head, meeting Suga’s knowing grin with a slightly strained one, his movements a tad posessive

- “Nope. See you guys later!”

- frowns as his best friend whistles as he walks off, glancing down at you as you giggle, spinning around to meet your boyfriend’s unamused stare

- “You’re so jealous, it’s cute.” “I’m not- he just touched your shoulder, that’s all.”

- pinches the skin of your cheek cutely when you smirk like okay, sure , clicking his tongue as you go to wrap your arms around him, mumbling into his chest-

- “How was practice, senpai?”

- literally busts a fuse omg what on earth this is how you destroy the one and only Daichi Sawamura

- Freezes in your hold as a nervous chuckle slips his lips as if he was in disbelief, clearing his throat as if he was trying to make sure he was hearing things right as you feel his hold on you weaken

- “What did you just-?” “Something wrong, senpai?”

- Literally steps away from you, covering his mouth as he turns away from you, ears reddened as he puts up one finger as if to say gimme a second as you blink in bewilderment before erupting in a fit of giggles, understanding Suga in this moment

- “Senpai, you look rather flushed-” “Y/N.”

- Presses you against the outer wall of the volleyball club, dark eyes boring into you as you find yourself at a loss of words as you sweatdrop when Daichi leans into you

- What the hell did you do, Suga-

- “...call me that more often.” As he closes the distance, causing your knees to go weak when his arm wraps around your waist to support you, leaving you breathless when he pulls away

- “Well damn if I had known you had a kink for being called-” “Wait. Did Suga tell you...?”

- Frowns in suspicion when you shake your head no vigorously as he sees through you in a second, sighing with a light blush uncharacteristically still on his cheeks

- “Tell no one I acted this way.” “Whatever you say, Senpai.”

- rolls his eyes at your cheeky smile, pecking your forehead cutely as you hum into his neck when he holds the back of your head lovingly, mumbling into your hair-

- “I swear you’ll be the death of me one day.” “That’s a promise!”

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

General Works: @takemetovalhalla @dreebbles @kasandrafaye @savemesteeb @yams046

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu kenma #Kenma Kozume #haikyu kenma #kenma x reader #haikyuu kuroo #kuroo tetsuro x reader #Kuroo Tetsurou #haikyuu matsukawa #matsukawa #haikyuu daichi #daichi sawamura #daichi sawamura x reader

2K notes · View notes

jawabear · 3 years

Text

Marcus Moreno NSFW Alphabet

Not my GIF

A/N: You know I had to write one for this boy. It would be wrong not too. As with the others, these are just my interpretations of his character and may differ to yours, but please be respectful of others’ views. Hope you enjoy. Sorry for any mistakes. Stay safe.

Genre: smut

Warnings: fem!hero!reader, mentions of sex, but nothing explicitly described, Pedro Pascal comes with his own warning

Summary: An A-Z of Marcus Moreno’s bedroom antics...

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Marcus is such a kind man. He’ll make sure you’re okay. And he’ll make sure you don’t need anything before pulling you into his arms if you’re in bed. If you’re else were, he’ll still make sure you’re alright, making you look perfect before you get to where ever you’re meant to be.

B = Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

On you, he finds your neck irresistible. Other than your lips, it’s his favourite thing to kiss. He loves to mark it with bites that show everyone you belong to him. He loves to bury his face into your neck while he fucks you, he loves the way your fingers feel in his hair when he does.

On him, he’s rather fond of his arms and his tights (so am I). Mainly because he likes it when you grip his arms when he fucks you, and he loves when you ride his thighs. It’s one of his favourite things, and you always seem to enjoy yourself when you make yourself come on his thighs.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

He loves to come on you. Over your breasts, your stomach...

And he loves to come in your mouth, he loves to see you swallow his come.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Before you two got together, and after his wife died, he would find him self in need of release. And being one of Heroics as well, there were many clips of you online doing awesome super hero things. He loved watching those. He loved watching the way you moved. The way your muscles flexed. The way you beat up the bad guys so effortlessly. And it was so sexy. He’d watch them in the dead of night while getting himself off. But he doesn’t know if he should ever tell you, because it is a little weird.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

I mean, he’s got a kid. Clearly he knows what he’s doing.

He certainly does know what he’s doing. He knows where exactly to touch you to make you feel good before you even know.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

He’s a big fan of the classic missionary because he can see your face and kiss you as well as being able to hold your hands which is a big thing that he likes to do.

He also loves when you are on top. Riding him, facing him or not or riding his thighs. He also loves 69......

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

He can be more funny then serious depending on his mood and the circumstances for the sex. He likes to enjoy it and wants to make sure you are enjoying it as well so if he needs to make you laugh he will. But he is mostly serious when it comes to sex.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

He’s pretty neat down there. It seems he takes more care of his hair down there than he does on his face or his head.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Marcus is a very romantic person. He wants to make sure you are happy. He wants to make sure you know how much he loves and worships you. So he will do whatever he can to put those points across to you as he makes love to you. This would usually be by kissing you for an extended amount of time or just simply telling you how much he loves and adores you.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

As stated before, in the time he was on his own, he would jack off quite a lot at night or in the shower (mostly to the thought of you). But now, less so. He’ll still do it on the odd occasion, say if your out on hero business, but you’re usually there to help him out if he needs it.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

He wants to be your hero. So he’s a big fan of role play. He loves when you decided to put yourself “in danger” for him to have to come and rescue you. Or you acting as someone who is evil and he has to stop you...and punish you.

And he has a slight weapons kink. He would never hurt you with the blade but something about seeing you with his katanas and nothing else drives him mad.

And I’m not saying he has a daddy kink, but I wouldn’t put it past him....

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

Bedroom. Or the shower. He doesn’t really have a preference between the two. But he’ll go anywhere as long as you are comfortable and happy.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

A lot of things came get him going. The main ones being when you are in your hero uniform or when your fingers with lightly brush over any part of him.

But mostly the uniform. Definitely the uniform. Yours or his....

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

As much as he loves the role play and the weapons, he’d never actually use it to draw blood or cause you any sort of discomfort.

And he wouldn’t want to have sex in a public setting where people could see. He’s not so much against say touching you under the table or what ever, but if it came down to him having to fuck you in front of someone he wouldn’t do it.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Marcus loves to be between your legs. He’ll eat you out at any given moment. He’s all about pleasing you. And he loves the way you squeak, moan and whimper as he eats you. As well as the way you grab at him to hold his head closer to you.

But he’s an absolute sucker for you sucking him off. As mentioned, he loves to watch you swallow his come. And he loves the feeling of your mouth and tongue on him. You can easily turn him into mush the second your tongue touches his dick.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

He’s kind of in the middle. He can be both extremes (favouring slow and sensual) but he falls some where in between. He’s not exactly slow, but he’s not exactly fast. But somehow it’s the perfect balance that gives you the best orgasms of your life.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

He’s not too against them. Sometimes that’s what it will have to be, what with his job and Missy being around.

Sometimes it will have to be a quick fuck in the supply cupboard at HQ. Or a quick one in the kitchen before Missy comes down for breakfast.

But he much prefers to take his time with you.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

He used to risk his life every day fighting the dangers of the world, and that mentality does transfer to the bedroom.

If you want to try something, he’ll do it. Unless it’s super dangerous or really really risky.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

He’s not a young as he used to be so he can’t go for that many rounds. In a row that is. If you spaced them out over the days he could got for quite a few. But in a row he’s good for about two.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

He’s never really needed them so he’s never really owned any. But when you brought your trusty little purple vibrator to the party, he grew embarrassingly fond of it. He loves to watch you use it on yourself and he loves using it on you while he eats you out, making you scream. And he likes it when you use it on him, teasing him with it or taking him all the way.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He not necessarily a tease with actions, more with faces or words. He’ll constantly be whispering dirty things into your ear whenever he gets the chance and he’ll send you sexy looks or winks from across the room. He’s very good at getting you worked up with our having to touch you.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

With Missy in the house, it’s very much hush hush. For multiple reasons that are pretty obvious. But when she’s gone, he doesn’t hold back. He lets out every sound he had to hold in. He’s not exactly loud, he just makes a lot of noises. But they’re amazing to listen too.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Marcus does find it difficult to make the first move. Even when he does, when just charges at you or something, he will always backtrack or stop to ask you if you want it. You will always want him and you’ve told him that on many occasions but it doesn’t seem to stick in his head. He’s just too sweet to let the beast inside him run free for once.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

He’s pretty decent. He’s longer than he is thick but he’s perfect for you.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

To be fair, it’s not all that high. He has a lot on his plate and sex is usually quite far down the list. He’s so busy all the time that he barely even has time for sex. Which is kind of sad and annoying for both you and him, but most of the time you’re pretty busy as well.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

His mind never stops so he finds it difficult to sleep full stop. But sex always seems to relax him enough to make him feel comfortable in getting some sleep. But he is a very light sleeper. And he won’t fall asleep until he has checked you are okay and he’s given the house a once over to make sure everything was locked and everything was where it should be. He’ll take a quick peek into Missy’s room to make sure she is okay before he comes back to bed and eventually falls asleep with you wrapped in his arms.

28/12/20

Taglist: @linkpk88

#marcus moreno #marcus moreno x reader #Marcus Moreno fanfic #we can be heroes #smut #pedro pascal #fanfic

416 notes · View notes

waatermelon-sugaar · 3 years

Text

Take Care of Me

Pairing = Santiago x reader

Words = 5.5k

Summary = A discussion about sex toys turns into something more … concrete

Warnings = Swearing, talk/description of mild anxiety. SMUT (18+ only), use of handcuffs in a sexy way, oral, piv sex

A/N = Prompt no.8 requested by @itspdameronthings as part of my 300 follower celebration, thanks so much, hope you like it! Prompt was “Despite what you think, I am completely capable of taking care of myself” w/santi and bolded in text. Also 3 things; 1 = Tom doesn’t exist in this AU, 2 = this is basically pure smut im so sorry, and 3 = I did do head hopping in this, which I know you’re not like supposed to do but also fuck the rules y’know?

Posted to AO3

Masterlist

***

It’s always easy to be loose after one of Benny’s fights.

It’s a heady mix of adrenaline, beer and testosterone, swirling together into a mix that makes you forget your normal boundaries. You’re normally quite brazen about your sex life anyway, but there is a line. You respect your partners, and there’s no need for your teammates to know too much.

You’re all packed into a half-moon booth, Benny straddling a chair that he pulled up to the table after he spent too long chatting up the bartender.

It’s a small comment from Benny (because of course it’s Benny), saying that you haven’t got laid in a while, and you’re honestly surprised he noticed. But then, that’s the only predictable thing about Benny, that he is unpredictable.

Your surprise means you take a little too long actually thinking about it, which confirms Benny’s statement. You lean back a little in your seat, desperately ignoring Santi, who’s sat to your left. It also means you bite back a little harder in defence.

“Well maybe if you guys didn’t look like you’re about to murder anyone who even dares ask for my number maybe I’d have better luck.” That’s a lie, but there’s no way you’re going to tell them the truth. No way you’re going to tell Santi-

Your thoughts are interrupted by Will, sat to your right. “So you’re asking for our help?”

You scoff, hitting him up the head. “No, thank you.” Will knows why. Because of course he does. One of your oldest friends, he’d been the one who convinced you to join the team in the first place. “Despite what you think, I am completely capable of taking care of myself.”

You send a wink down to the table to Benny, who’s the first to catch on, hollering, and you try not to react to Santi leaning forward, suddenly interested, as though you’re not already hyper-aware of every body movement of his.

You continue, deciding you’re quite enjoying the effect you’ve had. “What do I need some stranger for when I can give myself a better orgasm than he could ever dream of?” You take a sip of your drink to hide your grin, as both Benny and Will holler, gaining a few glares from the pub’s other patrons.

That sip means you’re unprepared for Santi to lean in closer to you, his lips so close to your ear that you can feel his breath. “Maybe ‘stranger’ is where you’re going wrong.”

You swallow, unprepared for the sudden flare of attraction shooting through you and turning your head, just as he says, “I could take care of you.”

You catch a glimpse of Santi’s fuck me eyes when Benny (the dickhead) interrupts. Crossing his arms on the sticky table in front of him, he asks, “Does that mean you have toys?”

Frankie’s hat somehow tips lower on his head, if that’s possible.

Will twitches towards his brother, like he wants to strangle Benny for being so uncouth, but you put your hand on his upper arm. “Of course.” The best course of action is to just act like this is normal, so add a bit of air to your voice. This was normal. “Who doesn’t?”

There’s a blush rising on Benny’s cheeks and you can’t help but stoke it, grinning at him, and attempting your best bedroom eyes. He’s still not too ashamed to ask though. “What kinds?”

Will decides he’s had enough, glancing at Santi behind you with a frown and hitting Benny over the head in an imitation of the way you’d hit him. You laugh, unexpectedly pleased at the reaction you’ve gotten. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Benny nods, eager, even as Will stands, grabbing a hold of him, and steering him towards the bar. “Yes! Yes I would!” He manages to throw back at you and you laugh again, twisting your body to face Santi and Frankie, bringing your left leg onto the bench.

***

Meanwhile Santiago is in hell. He’s been in multiple hellish situations before, most similar to this one, in that it was always the 5 of you, bullets flying around your heads, rifles in your arms, weighed down by heat and sweat and tac vests.

And yet somehow, he thinks this might be the worst. Your foot next to his thigh, your knee bent, pulling your jeans up your leg and exposing your ankle to him. Watching you flirt with Benny, talking about sex, and toys, and masturbation. When that's all he wants to do with you. He just has to get the courage to tell you.

With you, there was a before in Santi’s life, and an after.

Before he knew you; and after he knew you.

Before he loved you; and after he loved you.

Except Santi’s not quite sure when he fell in love with you.

It started when Will introduced you as the newest member of the team, one of his childhood friends. He didn’t mean for it to happen, he treated you like he treated anyone else, quickly discovering that you weren’t like anyone else.

He welcomed you into his life with open arms, starting off innocently - he wanted to spend time with you. You were Will’s friend, which meant that there must be something good about you. You made him laugh, made him feel safe (even when he wasn’t). He’d wanted to do the same for you and thought he did a pretty good job.

He became your friend, until one day the two of you were watching a film. He can’t remember what it was, just that you were at his house, drinking and laughing and talking, huddled in one of his blankets, and looking like you belonged there, forever.

Falling in love with you was so easy, Santi didn’t even realise he was doing it.

Santi’s still impressed with himself that he didn’t just blurt out the words then and there. I love you.

How long had he been in love with you for? He couldn’t pinpoint down a specific moment. He remembered the night when you’d become friends - the last two around the bonfire, toasting marshmallows, making that awkward small-talk that occurs between acquaintances.

You’d made him laugh, playing chubby-bunny and teasing him until he’d had a go. You’d talked and talked, and Santi can’t even remember what about. Nothing, probably. The basics. Boring stuff, but filled with details that he’d used to keep the conversation going the next day.

He knows when he became your friend. Recognised when you trusted him more than the others, with the exception of maybe Will.

But he didn’t know when he fell in love with you. Just the day that the love became so overwhelming in his chest that he realised it.

The real nail in his metaphorical coffin was the night afterwards. The 5 of you had gone to a bar, and a girl had started talking to him as he was buying drinks. She was pretty, but she wasn’t you. And like a flashbulb, all of Santi’s previous partners flew through his mind and he realised that nothing had ever come out of them because they weren’t you.

They didn’t know how he liked his coffee, or why he had joined the military. They didn’t know the story behind his callsign, or what his favourite song was.

You did. What you weren’t there for, you asked about. You remembered. You made him feel important, like he mattered. In ways that he didn’t even really know existed.

You were the one that started him on decaf without telling him. That had been a conversation and a half. Before morning briefings, you’d started bringing him coffees. He hadn’t noticed much of a taste difference, and shamefully, had come to expect them.

Until, a month later, you weren’t there. A small trip home to visit your family, everyone knew you’d be back in a couple of days. Regardless, Santi had ordered what he’d thought was his usual coffee.

And found his anxiety rearing up again. It was subtle, making him more jumpy, less able to sleep, but it was there. He wasn’t sure what the cause was, definitely hadn’t linked it to the coffee, instead assuming that maybe he just missed you. Maybe because his anxiety hadn’t disappeared all the way, even with decaf. Maybe it was because it was your presence that helped him too.

He hadn’t even really noticed when the caffeine was gone, hadn’t noticed the absence of something wrong, only seeing the contrast when it returned. Maybe because it was gradual, the weaning off the caffeinated coffee, whereas the return, with his request of additional shot, had been too sharp for him.

You hadn’t noticed at first, assuming that Santi’s bear hug when he’d first seen you had just been because he missed you. But after lunch you pulled him to one side.

“Are you alright?” Your eyes are slightly wider with worry, and you’re chewing slightly on your bottom lip.

He hates that he’s the one to do that to you, and he tries to brush it off. “I’m fine.” That was his first mistake. His second was trying to push past you.

“Santiago!” He’s pulled up short, and there’s that tension, pulling at his shoulders, his eyebrows. “Tell me what’s wrong.” Your tone of voice hasn’t changed, but this time it’s a command.

Exhausted, hating himself, Santi drags his hands across his face. “Nothing. It’s nothing. I don’t...I don’t know.” He takes a breath, and it shudders through him. “I don’t know.” He sounds defeated, and he hopes you can’t hear it. “I just...I feel…” How does he feel? “Jittery.” Is what he finally settles on, but the word still feels wrong somehow.

You frown, looking him up and down like you’ve never seen him before. In fact, you’re silent for so long, Santi starts to be worried that you’re going to tell him to stop being so fucking ridiculous.

You don’t, but you ask questions.

Has he been sleeping? “Not really.”

Does he have something big coming up? “Just the usual.”

Has his daily routine changed at all? “No, I don’t think so. I get myself a coffee in the morning and the-”

You interrupt him with a hand on his arm. “I’m so sorry.” And now it’s wrong, because now you’re looking at him like it’s your fault, when it definitely isn’t. “Santi I’m sorry. It’s your coffee.”

Santi frowns. His coffee? And you sound so apologetic, and he doesn’t understand why. “I switched you to decaf.” You can’t meet his eyes any more, gaze skittering to his shoulder with nerves. And you’re not shutting up. “I’m sorry, I should have told you, or asked if I could, I just... I knew you were getting nightmares, and decaf helped me so I thought it might help y-”

Santi cuts you off with a hug.

And now, the three of you sat in the booth, he hates himself for agreeing with Benny. He would like to know. He has a sneaking suspicion, odd little comments you’ve made throughout the years that when pieced together, paint a picture. A very vivid picture that he sometimes uses to torture himself, late at night in bed, imagining what you’d look like with your hands between your legs and wrapping a hand around his-

Santi shakes his head. Now is not the time. There’s never really a good time to fantasise about one of your best friends, but in public when they’re sitting next to you, is definitely one of the worst.

And why did he have to offer to take care of you? Did he think he was in some kind of cheesy porno? What if you hated him-

In the end, it’s you who breaks him out of his thoughts. “Don’t tell me you’re embarrassed Pope.” You push out with your foot, lightly kicking his thigh, unable to read his stony face.

Throughout all of this, Frankie has kept quiet, and now the conversation seems like it’ll be returning to safer ground, he rubs a hand over his face, lifting his hat slightly. “No.” Santi protests, although he says it too fast for it to be sincere. “I’m not embarrassed.”

“Good,” you reply, and Santi can see the moment a thought pops into your head that you can’t resist, he can see it in the way your eyes light up with mischief. “Out of all the boys, I figured you’d be the most likely to use toys.”

Frankie quickly slides out from his seat, muttering something about going to the toilet, his cheeks aflame, as Santi chokes a little on his beer. “Or maybe Will,” you muse, and Santi coughs again. “Shit, are you alright?” You ask, rocking forward to lean on your knee so you can rub Santi’s back for a second.

He concentrates on getting himself back under control, on not focusing how warm your hand is against his back. He takes deep breaths in an attempt to calm his heart down, praying that the room is dark enough that you won’t see him blush.

Santi nods, his eyes watering a little, and you laugh, but it’s not unkind, not even when one of your thumbs wipes at his lower lash line, brushing away his tears with the pad. It’s so unexpectedly soft, another sharp contrast to this sticky, seedy bar they’re all in, where the booth seats are cracked and the most complicated drink they make is a rum and coke.

“Good,” you say, voice quiet, scooting back on the bench, your foot closer to his thigh this time, and Santi hates himself for wanting to follow you.

Instead, he pretends everyone else is still here, even as he watches Will whisper something into Benny’s ear as they stand, drinking next to the bar, with no clear intention of returning. Suddenly Benny punches Will’s upper arm, and Santi’s eyebrows twitch slightly in confusion. Benny looks ecstatic, and for what?

“I’ve used handcuffs,” he says casually, half of his mind taken up with Benny and Will acting like lunatics at the bar behind you. He’s wrenched back to you when you raise an eyebrow, and he’s reminded what it feels like to be the centre of your world.

Fuck, you’re sexy though.

***

Your heart beat speeds up, suddenly sounding loud in your chest. Your mind is screaming Danger! at you - but how can it be? This is Santiago. You would trust him with your life. You have.

I could take care of you, flashes through your mind again. Maybe-

“Yeah?” You ask, trying to act calm when there’s a steady thrumming under your skin. “And are you the tied up person, or do you do the tying?”

Santi scoffs, like he thinks the answer is obvious. Maybe it is.

“I do the tying.”

You smirk, dragging an exaggerated eye up and down his body. “Sure about that?”

He looks relaxed, like he can take up more space now Frankie has gone. One of his hands is on your calf, gently trailing up and down, slowly setting you on fire, and you don’t even think he realises he’s doing it. There’s something in his eyes that you don’t recognise, darker, although it seems familiar. That’s been happening more and more lately, especially when it’s just the two of you. You like it.

“You want to test me babygirl?”

You feel breathless. “Maybe I’d like to try.”

You’ve never spoken with Santi like this before. You flirt with him more than the other boys, but this is new. This feels...real, somehow. More dangerous. And he’s closer now, shifting, so your foot is over his lap, his hand wrapped around your ankle, on your bare skin and you’ve forgotten how to breathe. You watch his hand move on your leg and you feel like you could evaporate.

“That’s not what good girls do.” Fuck, his voice.

“Good girls don’t do a lot of things I do.”

And you’re not sure what gives you the sudden confidence, but you lean forwards, pressing a soft kiss to his mouth. It’s a horrible angle, your legs in the way, but you don’t care.

And then you’re retreating, opening your eyes again, suddenly unsure of what you’ve just done. Your mouth feels tingly, where you can still feel Santi against you. His grip has tightened on your leg, no longer moving.

And then his hand is tugging at you a little, and there’s a smile threatening to take over his face.

Come here.

You scoot up, so your left leg is fully over him, your right leg tangling with his under the table and you can smell him now, beer and - as weird as it sounds - like a man. It’s familiar. Nice. Breathless, you shoot him a little grin, suddenly unsure.

And then he’s kissing you again and it’s everything you ever dreamed of. His lips are soft, but firm, moving against your mouth, contrasting with the slight stubble growing on his face. His free hand moves to your waist and you let out a small sound.

You break apart after a second, both of you breathless. You’ve slung your arms around his neck, fingers idly playing with his chain, and you’re the first to speak.

“So do you use those handcuffs on anyone?”

Santi kisses you again, short and sweet, before he answers, his lips mumbling against yours. “Hmm, just on girls I really like.”

You kiss again, neither of you really wanting to stop. “Can I use them on you?” Santi asks, moving to kiss along your jaw, nipping at your earlobe. You feel surrounded by him, he’s all you care about, all you can feel.

Your eyes snap open, desire pooling in your belly. Is this really happening? “Yes.”

“Good.” Santi’s voice is still low in your ear, before he moves down your neck, soft lips a stark contrast to his stubble catching on your skin. “How do you feel about a date, too?”

“Yeah?” You lean back slightly so you can see his face. He’s beautiful in this light, face half hidden in the shadows, eyes dark.

His lips are brushing yours again.

“Yeah. I’ll pick you up, take you somewhere nice, do it properly.”

“Good,” you mumble against him, “that sounds really good.” Your fingers are still playing with his chain, lightly brushing against the scar on his neck. “Shall we go?”

Before you know it, the two of you are sitting in a cab, having said a quick goodbye to the others, Will asking if it was safe for them to sit back in the booth. You’d responded with the finger, not bothering with a proper reply.

Santi leans over to you, whispering into your ear. “Can I really tie you up?”

You clench your thighs together, closing your eyes in an effort not to physically respond. The pause is enough for Santi to hesitate, hand shyly holding yours. “It’s ok, if you don’t want to, that’s fine, it was just a-”

You stop him with a kiss, moving your hand so you can squeeze him in reassurance. When you answer, it’s a mumble against his mouth so the driver doesn’t hear. “Break out the handcuffs, and we’ll see if you’re as tough as you act, big boy.”

Santi groans when you lean away from him.

Getting inside Santi’s flat is a feat in itself, and you’re honestly a little proud of the restraint both of you showed by not fucking in the stairwell, stopping every couple of meters to kiss each other senseless, hips clumsily knocking together as you rile each other up.

You’ve been inside his flat before, so when Santi kicks the door closed, walking you backwards into his bedroom, kissing you all the while, you don’t protest. It’s so nice to finally kiss Santi like you’ve wanted to for a while now, so nice to feel his hands on your waist, pushing you backwards while his hips press into yours, steady now, purposeful.

His fingers are playing with the waist of your trousers, and you help him, shimmying your jeans off, pushing them down your thighs and letting them fall to the floor. Then he surprises you, dropping to his knees in front of you, pulling your knickers down your legs.

Looking down, you feel dizzy from the rush of power this brings you. Santi looks like he’s about to worship you, his face close to your pussy. His hands are on your waist and he pushes at you, encouraging you to step back.

When you don’t he tips his head back, exposing his neck to you. “Step back.” His voice is dangerous and you can feel more wetness gathering between your legs. You grin down at him, still not moving.

In response Santi nips at your thigh, grinning when you gasp, hands flying to his hair. He pushes at you again, and this time you let him, stepping back until you hit his bed, sitting down.

Santi presses his hand against your stomach, and you allow yourself to be pushed back, falling back onto your elbows so you can watch him. He presses his nose to your mound and you squirm, impatient, as Santi spreads your knees so he can fit between your legs.

You watch him press his nose to your pussy, burying his nose in you, feeling yourself grow wetter. “You taste so good,” he groans, “Sweetest pussy I’ve tasted.” As he begins to explore you with his tongue, your hips lift off the bed with a groan and it takes you a second to recognise your own voice, broken with need. Santi’s arm reaches out, pressing you down as he explores your folds. Stubble is scratching your thighs, a pleasantly rough feeling compared to the soft wetness, the pliability of Santi’s tongue. Your clit is the first thing he concentrates on, his tongue practically lapping at you, and it all feels so good.

One hand is desperately fisting the sheets to the side of you as you try to hold on to reality, the other knotted in Santi’s short curls, nails scraping ever so slightly along his scalp even as he lifts you higher and higher. Broken pleas of his name fall from your lips when he inserts two fingers into you, gently pumping in and out, with a strangely satisfying squelch under your cries.

Your orgasm creeps up on you, slow and unsuspecting. One second your chest is heaving, breaths short and shallow, the next you’ve tensed up as you fall apart under Santi.

He keeps kissing you, gently pressing his lips over your thighs, hips, stomach as you stare at his ceiling, willing rational thought to return to you. He’s murmuring praises into your skin, telling you how good you are for him, what a good job you’ve done, how pretty you look when you come, how he wants to make you do it again, and all the while you float somewhere above your body, hardly daring to believe this is real. Santi keeps kissing you, any skin he can get his mouth on, desperate to keep tasting you. Gradually he moves up your body, even as you lie there, panting, letting him push your top up, bunching under your arms and around your neck.

Your hands fly to his hair when he bites the soft skin of your breast peeking out from your bra, and you arch your back towards him slightly, letting out a small whine. You can feel his smirk against you, so you wrap your legs around his waist, canting your hips up, grinding against where you can feel him, hard and aching in his jeans.

Now it’s your turn to smirk, slow and lazy when Santi lets out a low growl in response. He tips his head up so he can look at you, his eyes soft as he smiles at you. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

And then his body weight is gone and he’s standing next to the bed, taking his top off and it’s not the first time you’ve seen him shirtless, of course it isn’t, but it’s the first time you’ve seen him and been allowed to look, and Santi’s all shadows and soft muscle, pale scars highlighted on his skin.

You sit up, and it takes you a second to fight your way out of your top, quickly sliding the straps of your bra off, and dropping your clothes to the side of the bed as you watch Santi cross his room, and fish out a pair of handcuffs from a box with a couple of other objects inside, as well as what you’re pretty sure looks like a strap-on. And maybe it’s because his ass is currently in your eye-line, maybe it’s the surprise, but the image of you wearing it, teasing Santi with your dick while he waits on all fours on his bed, begging for you to touch him, suddenly pops into your head, and you have to work to hold back a moan at the mental image. Oh my god.

When Santi turns back to you, he’s opened the cuffs. “Are you familiar with the traffic light system?”

You suddenly feel nervous, your mouth dry, and you don’t know why, this is Santi. He’s made it clear that you don’t have to do this, and anyway you want to. “Green is good, orange is slow down, red is stop,” you recite easily, and Santi nods in satisfaction.

“Good girl,” he says and his words hit deep in your stomach, unfurling something you hadn’t known existed. “You say something and I’ll untie you.”

You raise an eyebrow, leaning back on your hands, eyeing up the way Santi’s jeans are still on, now hanging low on his hips, exposing a small trail of hair down from his bellybutton. “What if I don’t want you to untie me?” You ask.

You can see how his eyes darken, but he doesn’t move. “Tell me you understand,” he says, voice stern and you shiver.

“I understand,” you parrot. Santi nods, pleased at you doing as he says, and steps out of his jeans, pulling his boxers off at the same time, releasing his cock. He’s hard, curving up towards his stomach and leaking pre-cum.

Almost on instinct, you lean forwards to lick it off, and Santi lets out a groan of satisfaction at the sensation of your mouth just wrapping around his head, your hands on his thighs. Before you can take him any further, he’s stepping back, shaking his head.

“Lie back,” he instructs, and you obey. Santi kneels next to you, tugging your wrists up, above your head, looping the handcuffs through his headboard and clicking them on around you. You give them an experimental tug, biting back a moan when they hold fast. “Colour?” Santi asks, and you grin up at him.

“Green.” Your voice already sounds broken. “Santi, please.”

Santi just kneels back, looking at you with those hungry eyes. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he breathes out, hands running up and down your body, ignoring how you squirm as best you can under him.

“Oh yeah?” You ask. “Why don’t you come down here then, instead of just watching me?” Santi’s hands reach your breasts, squeezing and gently massaging and you arch your back towards him.

“You’re unhappy with my hands?” Santi returns, and stops touching you. You can’t help it, letting out a whine and straining to move your arms towards him, before remembering you can’t, your attempted movement jangling the chain a little.

“No, Santi,” you’re desperate for him to touch you again, especially now you can’t touch him,“Santi please, touch me again, touch me more.” Begging has never come so easily to you. And then Santi’s moving between your legs, gripping your hips and thrusting up, but not into you, just along your folds. You moan, shifting as best as you can while Santi coats himself with your slick, the head of his cock just pushing your clit, teasing you and riling you up further.

You suddenly really want to touch him, to rake your hands through his hair, to scratch your nails down his back, to be able to suck a purple hickey into his skin. You let your head fall back to the bed, pushing your hips towards him, desperate for more, desperate for him.

It’s only when you open your mouth in a desperate plea, a whine of his name, “Santi, Santi please,” that he begins to push into you.

Your mouth falls open in silent pleasure, just as Santi begins to talk. “Fuck, baby.” The stretch of him is delicious. “I wanted this for so long.” Now fully seated in you, he rests on his forearms, kissing you softly, first on the forehead, then on your lips. “Colour?” he asks softly.

You nearly cry from how sweet it is, how sweet he is, before responding, a mumble against his lips. “Green.” You feel full, like this is how you’re supposed to feel all the time, this is your base state, and you’re going to spend the rest of your life trying to achieve this specific feeling.

“Good girl,” Santi murmurs and you keen at the praise, feeling insatiable, wanting more, clenching around him. He grins, registering your response. “You liked that? You like being told what a good job you’re doing, how good you feel around me..” he breaks off with a gasp, and your eyes close as Santi begins to move in time with his words, long, slow thrusts as he begins to put you together again, building you up, further and further, his thrusts speeding up gradually, the sound of his dick sliding into your wetness, and the slap of skin-on-skin loud in his room, mixing with your moans.

You lift your legs up, wrapping them around his waist, hooking one of your feet around Santi’s butt. They don’t stay there for long, one of Santi’s arms pushing one leg up your body, hand under your knee as he splits you open. The new angle hits something deeper in you, and you gasp, unable to move and at the mercy of Santiago.

Your orgasm takes you by surprise, coming out of nowhere, your lower body suddenly clenching around Santi, arms straining against the handcuffs, as you try in vain to touch him. You tumble through it, muscles spasming as you fall under him. He keeps moving into you as you shudder below him, pulling you through with murmured praise and encouragement as another broken cry leaves your throat.

His thrusts start to get sloppier as he goes faster, losing his rhythm slightly and you can tell he’s near his end. As best you can, you start moving your own hips, grinding up to meet him, words of encouragement slipping past your lips. “Santi, you feel so good, are you gonna fill me up?” You coo, pouting a little, tugging your wrists a little for emphasis. “Please Santi, I want to feel you, come in me, please-”

You stop when Santi snaps his hips once more, with a groan of finality and you can feel his cum inside of you as he holds himself there, his cock pulsing within you. He presses a couple more gentle kisses to your neck before sliding out, and you hiss slightly at the pull on your sensitive folds of your pussy.

He leaves for a second, returning with a key and gently releasing your wrists. “Good girl,” he murmurs, massaging your skin. “You did so good for me.”

He helps you sit up, kissing your cheek before leaving again. This time when he returns, he has a wet rag, and a glass of water, which you take a sip from, not having realised how thirsty you were. He gently dabs the rag on the inside of your thighs first, and the two of you watch in slightly morbid fascination as Santi’s cum leaks out of you onto the rag.

“That’s kinda hot,” you comment idly, wondering if Santi fucked all sense of you.

He only laughs, wiping the mess away and cuddling up next to you. “Do you want me to do it again?” he asks as you lean into his arms, his hands wrapping around your wrists to rub circles into your skin.

“Yes,” you answer, probably too quickly but beyond caring.

“Good.”

There’s a pause, and you can tell Santi wants to ask you something, so you twist in his arms, kissing along his shoulder. The act feels small, and innocent somehow, despite your states of undress, as you try to reassure him.

“You were right,” you murmur near his ear, “Stranger was where I was going wrong.”

It takes him a second to piece your reference together, but then he grins, and it’s like he hung the sun in the sky. “Yeah? I took care of you?”

You kiss him again, this time on the lips, biting back your own identical grin. “Yeah.”

***

Thanks for reading! Reblogs and comments mean the world to me 🥰🥰🥰

Tags: @fantasticcopeaglepasta

#Santiago x reader #Santiago Garcia x reader #Santiago pope x reader #Santiago pope Garcia x reader #pope x reader #Santiago Garcia #Santiago pope #Santiago pope Garcia #triple frontier #fanfic

278 notes · View notes