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#but i love him and he means everything to me
thebearer · 3 days
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Going into the restaurant when you and Carmy have only been dating for a few weeks. You weren't trying to visit him, you just like the pasta. He spots you and asks why you didn't tell him you were coming.
"I don't want to bother you at work"
"Next time, bother me."
"next time bother me" AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
i would fall HARD. if we hadn't said i love you, i would've that night lol.
i can only imagine his confusion, seeing you and your friends. he hadn't really told anyone, not even richie or sugar or sydney, that he'd been seeing you. ever the secretive person, he nearly falls out when he does see you. when he hears your name on richie's sheet, telling your order.
"i'm sorry," you squeak, a little blushy and bashful when he comes out to see you. "i don't... i didn't mean to be stalker-y. it's my friends birthday, and the pasta is so good." you blink up at him. "didn't mean to bother you."
"you're not bothering me." carmen shakes his head. "never, but next time, bother me. make sure you get the best seat in the house."
he goes out of his way to have marcus put a candle in the cake, really does everything up. always peeking through the window to see your reaction to the food, blushing when your gaze meets his.
"cousin," carmen stops richie. "hey, uh, table nine. there's- don't give them a ticket. no ticket on them."
"why?" richie frowns. "they complain or somethin'? did you mess somethin' up-"
"-no, it's not- no." carmen runs a hand over his face, hoping he's hiding his blush. "that's, uh, that's- i've been seeing the girl on the end." richie nearly breaks his neck turning to look, eyes wide in shock.
"don't fuckin' make a big deal about it, alright?" carmen hisses. "but, i-i can't charge her, y'know? be jagoff of the year if i charged her at my own restaurant."
"yeah you would be." richie snorts. "i got you, cousin." he pats carmen's shoulder, shaking his head as he voids the check. "can't believe you didn't tell me. i knew, i fucking knew something was going on, ya know? natalie thought you finally got medicated or somethin'."
screaming. screaming. screaming.
i might have to do a full work on this, it gave me the butterflies.
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codtrashsammy · 2 days
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Cute Meet?
Started as a kinda character study and idk what happened, i'ma be honest. I haven't written anything with length in awhile, so feel free to leave cc and let me know what you think <3 Just a cute meet kinda scenario, reader is an anxious lil thing and Simon 'Ghost' Riley is obsessed upon first glance. Love? No, not yet.. but obsessed, yes. Word Count: 1.3K Pairing: Simon Riley x Reader/You Warnings: No warnings, no use of y/n tho Enjoy :))
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Ghost is the keeper. Ghost is stoic, cold, even apathetic. Ghost can kill a whole platoon without batting an eye, can be covered in the blood of his enemies and be entirely uncaring to watch it flow down the drain once he has enough time to scrub the caked blood from where it seeped through his clothes. He is in charge, able to control his emotions effortlessly, able to lead. He is everything he needs to be. And then there’s Simon. Ghost is the keeper. Simon is the man beneath the mask who needs one. Simon is more akin to a stray dog than a human at times. Face hidden from the world, yet teeth always barred and ready to bite. Hidden behind a mask, a carefully crafted mask that is Ghost. A man with more scars than flesh, a man with more trauma than peace, a man who simply longs for the normalcy of life without a way to reach it. And then came you.
Ghost couldn’t care less for you. The mask is on as he’s on leave, shopping in a grocery store to get something to eat on while he stays in that damned motel for the next couple of weeks before flying out once more. The mask stays in place, a protection, a show the keeper is in charge. You don’t mean to run into him, you’re definitely not the type to go looking for trouble- you’ve had enough of that in your life, and you’re just starting to get your shit together for the nth time. But as you’re both leaving, you stumble, bumping right into him and leaving a couple of his poor bags strewn about on the sidewalk rather than carefully held within each hand. “Fuckin’ ‘ell,” Ghost grumbles with a sigh, clearly not pleased by the circumstances while watching a can of beans he had bought simply roll off of the sidewalk area and into the road- promptly ran over by a vehicle looking to park. No beans and toast now, british man. “I am so sorry-” You immediately apologize, the sheepish and embarrassed look on your face obvious as you dust yourself off and try to begin gathering the mess that you had caused. Ghost is annoyed at you. Just one look and he’s annoyed. But Simon? Simon is enchanted. The sweet, sheepish smile on your face, the way you scramble to help, the heat to your cheeks in your embarrassment as you scatter around trying to fix the situation. The way your hair falls and how you’re clearly nervous, but you still act anyway. You don’t care of how he looks- all brooding and intimidating with his hoodie over his head and the black medical mask over the lower half of his face. You couldn’t care less of that- you simply want to make things better. Simon notices that though. Simon remains frozen for a few moments, hidden interest in his eyes as he watches you scramble about, resorting your things just to have an extra couple of bags for his things. And you just hand things back over to him, the sheepish smile still on your face, the embarrassment clear- but gods, you look like such a sweet lil thing, lookin’ at him like he’s a human, a person. “‘S fine,” Simon eventually spits out, taking the bags from your hands and glancing once more at the beans staining the roadway now, before turning to focus his attention back on you. He could let you leave now. He could, it’d be so easy. He could leave it at that and walk away, probably never hear or see from you again. I mean, hell, he’s only known you for all of 5 minutes, and it’s because you’re a clumsy little shit who fucked up his shopping. It’d be so easy so why does it feel so hard. “D’ya always ‘ave to make such an impression?” Simon quips out, readjusting the bags comfortably in his grip. You can’t even pretend not to notice his accent- it’s unusual for where you live, you don’t think you’ve ever heard anything like it outside of the media you’ve consumed. It’s pleasant, rings around in the ears for a bit. You finally meet his eyes, and gods, they are gorgeous. Deep, rich, brown- like chocolate with golden flecks scattered. Especially in the sunlight- like they are now- pools of liquid gold swimming about a chocolate river. “Ah- No- Um-” You struggle to find the right words, now your cheeks are warmer, and it’s less from embarrassment and more from the pretty eyed stranger you just fucking throttled on accident. But at least he doesn’t seem angry, so there’s always that. “I’m so sorry,” You settle on apologizing again, one of your hands moving to nervously run through your hair, pushing some strands out of your face. “‘S fine. Really.” Simon says with a slight nod, and you can feel the burn of his eyes as they trail over you. You can’t decide if he means it or not, though, he sounds oddly monotone for such simple words. “Still, I feel bad, I uh- I’m kinda clumsy at best,” You blurt out, sheepish smile on your face despite its softness as you glance away from him before looking back once more, “I uh- just wasn’t paying much attention to where I was going- a real bad habit of mine, honestly- which is surprising cause you’re kinda huge and hard to miss-” 
What the fuck did you just say?!Your cheeks heat up further, hands moving to gesture with your words now. You’re rambling, you know you are, but god did not give you the ability to shut the fuck up. “N-Not that that’s a bad thing! You’re uh- very well-built!” what the fuck you’re making it worse- “I-I mean- You uh- You have lots of muscle a-and that’s a good thing! And you have pretty eyes- always a bonus!” Simon’s eyebrow slowly lifts, his eyes crinkling at the sides. Simon’s been called a lot of things in his life- but he’s realizing at this moment that no one has ever called his eyes pretty. They’re brown. He can recall Johnny referring to them as ‘shit brown’ more often than not.  And you just look so fucking adorable- continuing to ramble, but he’s hardly paying attention to the words now, watching your cheeks get darker, your hands gesturing with your words, nervously shifting on your feet as you try to ‘save’ the situation. Such a precious lil thing, too pure for this world.
Simon was enchanted at first glance.
Ghost decides he could be, too.
A pretty thing like you? In this world? Oh, love, that’s just not safe. You’re a lil bundle of nervous, clearly. How’d ya make it this far? Who made ya like this? Unsure, rambling, nervous? Ghost wants to learn you. Wants to figure out what events molded you into this cute lil thing. You clearly need someone- he won’t judge, Simon needs him, too.
Ghost decides he wants to know you. Simon has made that thought known.
“You know what? I’m gonna shut up!” You finally say, voice a higher pitch and the heat being felt in the tips of your ears at this point as you take a step away from the masked man, who you know you’ve done ruined the chance to know with your inability to shut the fuck up.
“Tell me yer name before ya do,” Simon says, voice smooth like it’s the easiest and most casual thing in the world.
He’s so… quiet. He let you ramble and make an absolute fool of yourself- but now he’s actually wanting to know your name?
After you manage to knock yourself out of your stupor, you finally offer your name to him, cheeks finally cooling down a bit. Only to heat back up once he repeats your name in that voice of his, all low and gruff- says it differently than anything you’ve ever heard before- like it’s something important, something that matters.
“Simon,” He supplies, adjusting his bags in one grip as he offers a hand to you.
Simon and Ghost are two very different people who share this skin suit.
But they both decide you’re theirs.
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ashwhowrites · 2 days
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Eddie Munson x Cunningham! Reader, what if Reader is Chrissy's stepsister or smth like that, and she fell for Eddie, Chrissy's friend, but she thinks Chrissy likes Eddie, so she's always kinda mad at Chrissy and Eddie, and Eddie notices it, and talks with reader and she confesses and he tells her that Chrissy has been giving him some tips to make Reader fall in love with him?
I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻
Wrong Cunningham
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Y/N Cunningham was not the preppy cheerleader type like her stepsister was. She enjoyed books, video games, and being in her circle of friends. Y/N met many people because of Chrissy's popularity, which she never cared about. But then Chrissy brought home the most gorgeous boy she had ever seen.
His name was Eddie Munson. He had dark curly long hair, big brown eyes, and pink lips. Y/N never felt a crush this intense before, but the second she saw Eddie she couldn't forget about him. She thought about him all the time.
Eddie came over more and more. He even began to have dinner at the house. Y/N got lost in everything he said. Even when he didn't talk, her eyes were still on him. She'd blush and look away when he looked back at her.
But her big crush meant a huge amount of envy towards Chrissy. Chrissy already had a boyfriend, popular, and treated her like a queen. Now she had the attention of Eddie all over her. It was wrong for Chrissy to lead Eddie in the way she was. Which caused Y/N to be even more annoyed with Chrissy.
~~~~
Y/N sang to herself as she dusted her picture frames. She was in her own little world she didn't know Eddie was leaning against her door frame with a smile.
"You have a beautiful voice."
Y/N jumped and turned. She was shocked to see Eddie walking into her room. She felt her cheeks heat up in embarrassment.
"Oh! I didn't know you were here." Y/N said she put down her duster.
"Couldn't pass up your mom's meatloaf." Eddie joked, and Y/N laughed and agreed.
"Do you sing just for fun or perform?" Eddie asked
"Oh god no. I could never sing in front of anyone." Y/N said
"I always thought the same thing but now I'm in a band and perform every Friday, at the hideout, at eight," Eddie said, Y/N felt nervous as he moved closer.
"Is that an invitation?" Y/N asked, she hoped it was.
"If you want it to be." Eddie smiled, now steps closer. He was so close she could smell his addicting cologne.
If she wanted it to be? Of course, she did. But did he want her to?
"EDDIE, where are you?" Chrissy said as she walked up the stairs. Hearing her voice, Y/N stepped away from Eddie and went back to cleaning.
Eddie deflated as she moved away and turned her attention elsewhere.
"Looks like that is your cue," Y/N snapped
Chrissy walked in, "Oh, I didn't mean to interrupt." Chrissy winked at Eddie.
"Sure you didn't," Y/N said sarcastically as she rolled her eyes. Eddie and Chrissy shared a look as Y/N brushed past them to leave the room.
~
Dinner was awkward and tense. Chrissy kept drifting her eyes between Y/N and Eddie. Eddie kept his eyes on Y/N as he tried to figure out what changed. And Y/N kept her eyes down.
Chrissy vowed to get to the end of it.
~~~
Eddie shook off his nerves and walked to Y/N as she closed her locker. After the dinner, a few days ago, things were still tense. But Eddie wanted to try again with Y/N.
"Hey, Y/N"
"Hi Eddie," Y/N smiled
"I was wondering if you wanted to go to the hideout tonight?" Eddie tried to smile confidently, but he was nervous.
"With you?" Y/N felt excited but she felt like she shouldn't be. Chrissy liked him and he liked her.
"Well no," Y/N sighed but Eddie continued, "I will already be there to set up for my performance. But I want you to meet me there."
Y/N felt her excitement building again.
"Yeah, that sounds cool." Y/N smiled a small heat of blush on her cheeks.
"Sweet! And Chrissy is welcome to tag along. You know so you don't have to show up alone at a new place." Eddie explained. He thought he sounded caring, but Y/N took it a different way.
"Oh right, Chrissy. I'll let her know." Y/N smiled before she walked off.
~
Y/N sighed as she got home. After Eddie's not subtle way of asking Chrissy to be there, Y/N didn't feel like going. She told Chrissy that Eddie wanted her to attend tonight's show.
"Are you going?" Chrissy asked, she was confused why Eddie would ask Chrissy to go, but not Y/N.
"No, I don't feel well so I'm going to sleep, plus he asked for you." Y/N sighed as she walked to her room.
~
Chrissy arrived at the show as Eddie took the stage.
Eddie began to play but his eyes moved around the room. He caught Chrissy's eyes and smiled. But he felt disappointed when he didn't see Y/N anywhere.
When the show ended, Eddie came off the stage sweaty and irritated.
"Where is she?" Eddie asked he was slightly annoyed. Why was Y/N dodging him?
"How did you ask her? Because she thinks you asked for me to be here."
"I asked her and she said yes! Then I didn't want her to feel anxious so I said you could tag along." Eddie explained.
"Eddie! You idiot." Chrissy spazzed, her right hand smacking Eddie's arm.
"What did I do?"
"That wasn't the plan. If you want a date, it needs to be just the two of you. If you add anyone else, it immediately tells the girl it's not a date. Which means you aren't interested." Chrissy explained.
"I'll go talk to her," Eddie said as he raced out of the bar.
~
Eddie knocked on Y/N's bedroom door, his hands in his pockets as he waited.
"Eddie?"
"Can we talk?"
Y/N moved aside and let Eddie walk into her room.
"What did I do wrong? Why do you seem to hate having me around?" Eddie asked
"I don't Eddie," Y/N sighed, "I like having you around, it's just complicated." She sat on her bed and looked down at her nails.
"Then explain it," Eddie said, sitting next to her.
"I sorta have feelings for you and knowing you and Chrissy like each other is really hard for me," Y/N said, she looked at Eddie and back to her nails.
"Woah, Chrissy and I do not like each other." Eddie laughed.
"It's not funny," Y/N snapped, and Eddie stooped laughing.
"You're right. It's not funny. But Chrissy and I do not like each other, I swear." Eddie explained. "I like you and Chrissy has been trying to help me."
"Why would you need help?" Y/N asked, her heart racing at his confession.
"I had no idea how to even talk to you. You make me nervous, my tongue goes numb, my heart beats out of my chest, and I wanted to ask you out but I knew I couldn't do it alone."
Y/N felt herself smiling, that was the cutest thing she had ever heard. She couldn't believe she made him nervous. She couldn't believe he liked her back.
"I believe you can do it on your own, try it," Y/N said, she turned her body to face his and laced their hands together.
"Right now?" Eddie choked out
She nodded and squeezed his hand with a smile on her face.
"Can I take you on a date? Tomorrow night at the hideout, just us." Eddie asked, he nervously squeezed her hand back.
"You absolutely can." Y/N laughed
"Fuck yeah," Eddie cheered to himself
"Fuck yeah," Y/N laughed.
Seems like Y/N owed Chrissy an apology. But right now, her focus was on Eddie.
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Text
The Bolter (part five)
Steve Rogers x f!reader / (Bucky Barnes x f!reader)
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synopsis : Steve carries out his decision to return to Peggy, aiming to live out the rest of his days with her. But this means he's leaving everything behind - he's leaving you. Did he make the right choice? Will there be anything left with you to come back to?
in this chapter : In present day, the reader and Bucky get closer - will one of them finally slip up? We also see what happened in 2018, during the battle in Wakanda.
themes/warnings : pining, unrequited love, Bucky dealing with ptsd, brief mention of violence, language
word count : <2k
masterlist ▪︎ previous chapter
📝 a little bit of an explanation on the timeline : 2016 - Civil War ▪︎ 2017 - post Civil War / Steve and reader on the run ▪︎ early 2018 - Infinity War ▪︎ 2018 to 2023 - the lost years / post-snap ▪︎ late 2023 - Endgame / Steve's departure ▪︎ 2024 - present day / Falcon and the Winter Soldier period ▪︎ 1950s - where Steve went back
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2024, seven months after Steve's departure
You win. Again.
By now, you're convinced Bucky is actually letting you win in Battleship. Each guess he made had been wrong, so it must be deliberate.
"James Buchanan Barnes," you sigh.
His lips form a sly smirk. He isn't even trying to deny it.
You reach across and lightly shove his non-vibranium arm. "It's no fun if there's no challenge."
He shrugs, "Maybe I like the way you react when you win. You get so... expressive." Another smirk. Damn him.
What could possibly be so amusing about the way you practically screeched and stuck your tongue at him the first time you won?
"Yeah, but you let me win four times in a row."
"Deal with it, doll."
"You suck."
He grimaces, "Suck?"
Right. You keep forgetting he is an very old, very ancient centenarian.
"It's an expression."
Something flashes across his face, and you can't really make out what it is. "Do you suck, too?"
"What?" you exclaim. "I just said it's an expression. It means you're annoying."
He holds your gaze for a moment, before laughing, eyes visibly crinkling at the corners. "I'm messing with you, doll. I know what that means. I'm old, not unaware."
Damn him again.
And damn the way the rare instances of his laughter is slowly growing to be a thing you yearn for. Bucky has a playful side, you've come to realize. You get this feeling of lightness, because you're proud of him. The more it comes out, the more it shows how much he has healed.
You blink at him, shaking your head, before bursting into laughter yourself.
Damn it all to hell.
It takes a beat for you to collect yourselves.
Then for a second, it's there. That fleeting shift in his expression. A pinch in his eyebrows giving way to a look of shame. Just for a moment, his mind drifts back to the long list of names in his notebook. To Yori's son. To the crimson in his ledger.
You notice, and you don't hesitate in taking his hand, squeezing gently. "Hey," you say, catching his attention. "I'm glad we get to do this."
I'm glad I have you.
Glancing down at your hand wrapped around his, he smiles, slowly, like a sun rising and casting its glow over the horizon.
"Let's play one more time," Bucky says as he begins rearranging the pieces on his side.
You were about to protest, but then he adds, "I won't let you win, I swear."
Fifteen minutes later, you do indeed win again. He laughs at the incredulous expression that must be plastered on your face.
You take it. Because maybe you did win, fair and square.
Or maybe because his laughter feels like winning.
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The days have blurred into weeks and into months.
It feels like time is passing quickly, every second feels less and less like the lash of a whip, reminding Bucky of past pains. Of loss. Of all his sins.
Life almost feels normal. The kind of normal he is afforded in his life, at least.
Sessions with his court-mandated therapist. You. Dinners with Yori, desperately unable to tell him the truth. You. Sleepless nights, glimpses of his darkness haunting him. You. Sleepless nights, tempting images of you.
Behind all the laughter and the times you would spend playing Battleship on the floor of his barely furnished apartment, Bucky gets a sense of something gnawing at him. Something not unfamiliar, but unwelcome all the while.
It's fear. He has something to lose, once more. A friend or a kindred spirit. Whatever else you will find in each other. It's there and it's real, and it makes him feel like Bucky again.
He doesn't want to lose it, whatever it is. He's already lost Steve.
He's not going to lose you too.
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early 2018, Infinity War
After you and Steve left the cabin, it's like the universe was sent a go-ahead signal of some sort.
The world slowly descended into chaos, and the Avengers were needed back into the fold.
Your group had to rush to Scotland to rescue Wanda and Vision. Then it was back to the Avengers compound.
"You think all is forgiven?" Senator Ross asked, the threat evident in his tone. "You think you can just walk back in here like nothing happened? Romanoff has been leading my team on some wild goose chase - "
Natasha merely scoffs, unamused.
" - and Huntress has been actively aiding and abetting her fellow fugitives around the globe."
You were about to say something snarky, but Steve had already taken a step forward, partially shielding you from Ross' view.
"We're not looking for forgiveness, and we're way past asking permission," Steve declared.
In that time, life became drastically different from your days in Alaska. You barely had a moment of repose, worried about the fate of the world.
But you found comfort in the blonde super soldier who was constantly hovering over you. His eyes would meet yours before a decision would be made. His hand sometimes pressed at the small of your back as you walked beside him. Time and again, you found him watching you, a silent question in his eyes. You'd nod back, I'm okay.
You didn't notice, but in one of those moments, Wanda had witnessed the exchange.
And she felt it. That something. Much like what she has with Vision.
But it just wasn't the right time.
It is a bit hard to face the truth that you might be in love when the whole world is burning.
"I guess this is our normal, after all," you wistfully remarked to him one evening, after everyone else had left. The plans were laid. You all were to go to Wakanda the next day.
Steve felt a sense of bitterness arising from him upon hearing your words. It really isn't fair. He has always done everything right, but he's losing count of how many joys he's had to sacrifice.
He lost everyone once. His mom, his sister, Bucky, his fellow soldiers, Dr. Erskine, Peggy. He'd buried himself in ice, only to wake up again in a world that wasn't his anymore.
What else does he have to lose, who else, before he is finally allowed to be happy?
His smile was pained when he replied, "I think I figured out the kind of normal I want."
Despite your exhaustion, you smiled back and curiously asked, "Oh yeah?"
Steve hopelessly tried to commit you to memory. The lilt in your voice, the shape of your lips. That undying spark in your eyes, which remained even when everything was cast in gloom.
Just in case he would wake up one day and find his whole world taken from him once more.
"Yeah," he finally said.
The world is ablaze, but he's grown used to it. He knew he would lay his life down on the line again if that means it would be saved.
But everything be damned, he allowed himself one selfish thought when he confessed, "We never should have left that cabin."
I'm in love with you, were the words caught in his throat. His heart screamed it, yearning to be heard.
And you did.
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It was a cruel twist of fate. But Thanos deemed it destiny.
Was it always meant to happen? Were they always meant to lose?
Steve didn't know how long he stayed on the ground next to the pile of ashes that used to be his best friend.
Bucky was gone.
Steve barely heard the screams. Anguished voices calling out the names of their friends, still searching.
All that would have been unbearable. The sounds of distress enough to drive one mad. But Steve heard nothing. He had nothing.
It's not fair. Inside, he felt like that sickly kid who was always dealt the worst hand. It does feel like he's a kid again, petulant and angry. It's not fair, he thought over and over, I don't deserve this.
Bring Bucky back to me.
Maybe it was all his fault. Maybe if he never took that damned serum... maybe... maybe...
"Cap," he heard someone break him out of his haze. Rhodey stood to the side. "Steve," he repeated, pleading, but Steve still could not find the strength to get up.
Then from the distance, he heard Natasha calling out for you. He stumbled to his feet, his head spinning. Casting one last glance at the spot where Bucky vanished, he turned and started running.
He found Natasha immediately, but not you.
"Where is she?" Steve growled, and his voice sounded rougher than he's ever heard before. Natasha would have recoiled in surprise, if she didn't possess nerves of steel.
"I'm looking," Natasha snapped impatiently. You would have been her loss too.
Steve felt as if he had already scoured through the whole field twice, his body threatening to just give in and crumble to the ground once more, as the hope of finding you dimmed.
Then he heard your faint voice, weak and weary, standing out among all the others.
"Steve?" There you stood, your face half-covered in dried blood and soot. "Did we lose?"
He swiveled around and took you in, a deep breath of helpless relief exiting his lungs. He was angry and defeated.
He wanted to throw Captain America to the wind, and surrender everything.
He wanted to hear his mother's voice singing to him again. This world is cruel, and he wanted to go back home.
But there you were.
There you were, and Steve knew he had not lost everything.
"How did it happen?" you asked as he approached. "Steve, what do we do? There must be something - "
His mouth crashes into yours with such bruising intensity that it makes you stumble backward, but his arms were quick to catch you.
He was right.
You never should have left that cabin.
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2024, seven months after Steve's departure
The nightmare is different.
It's worse. Much worse.
Bucky bolts upright on the floor of his living room, having chosen to bypass the comfort of his bedroom. He thinks this is because he needs to keep his TV on in the background, something to muffle the noise in his mind late at night.
Another reason, one he hasn't confronted yet, is how comfort feels so foreign. It feels wrong, like he doesn't deserve it.
Perhaps that is why he can't find comfort even in his dreams.
It flashes before his eyes, like a broken montage.
It's almost the same every time. He's the Winter Soldier. He's on a mission. There are faces swarming around him, bodies either racing to attack or running away. But he doesn't see any of them. He doesn't feel anything as he makes every single one of them crumble.
But it's different this time. The Winter Soldier does not so much as falter or show any hesitation as he wraps his metal fingers around your windpipe.
The Winter Soldier coldly watches as you expire. Bucky helplessly watches, unable to stop as he loses everything.
Thankfully awake, in this world where he still has you, Bucky's chest feels like it's about to implode.
So much for being a superabled freak.
The clock reads 3:13. It's late, but he needs some air.
He walks for 10 minutes, aimlessly. Then for 20 more, his mind having made a decision on its own. He soon finds himself standing in front of a familiar brownstone building, where your apartment is situated on the top floor.
You don't seem confused when you answer the buzzer. It wouldn't be the first time he has shown up unannounced.
"Can't sleep either?" You're a welcome vision when you greet him at the door, cheeks flushed by the white wine you usually drink at these hours.
She's still here, Bucky reminds himself. The only comfort that he won't deny.
Instead of walking past you, straight into your apartment like he always does, he takes one step closer.
And then another.
He shuts the door behind him.
You watch him carefully, scanning his every movement. There's something here, something different. He takes another step and he has you pressed against the wall.
His eyes betray the storm of emotion brewing inside. He has to remind himself that you're here, and he has you.
"Bucky," you whisper, and it's all he needs.
He leans in and finally touches his lips to yours.
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My emotions!!!!!! Hahahaha this chapter is a whole mess and so are our protagonists 🔪🫀
yes yes, expect that the next one is 18+ --- but I still won't say exactly with who --- maybe it's a trick? Maybe it's neither of them? Oh well, honestly some of you have got it bang on already 🤷🏻‍♀️
As always, I am keen to hear what you guys think!!
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prettyboykatsuki · 11 hours
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BLOOD FEUDS, ANCIENT AND MODERN | RYOMEN SUKUNA.
✮ tags ; no curses au, blood incest, use of honorifics (oji-san) abuse (mostly verbal / emotional), classism, grooming / generally predatory behavior, large age gaps (20+ yrs), blood feuds, imbalanced power dynamics, white collar crime, afab + fem!niece!reader, uncle sukuna, the word rape used in text, non/dubcon (not noncon necessarily), fingering, petnames (little one, kid, little lamb), thigh-fucking, and other things, very horrible and gross sukuna behavior 18+
this is very dark and it deals BRIEFLY with sukuna being very predatory to reader when she's UNDERAGE / young. nothing explicit happens WHILE she is underage, but sukuna does leer at reader and it is mentioned. please proceed with caution !!!
PLEASE HEED THE TAGS BEFORE YOU PROCEED!!!
✮ wc ; 10.3k (???????????)
✮ a/n ; thank you vic @saintshigaraki for always indulging my nonsense and also tomfoolery. kissing you.
i'll be honest lads this one got away from me BAD jksdfhjs. i think its interesting at least.I KNOW THE TAGS ARE WICKED but i promise its like. kind of sexy at least.
also yes the title is from the rdr2 soundtrack shhh
✮ synopsis ; blood is thicker than water. resentment, you think, is thicker than both.
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Bastard.
An intimately familiar title, lacking tooth and effect. It's meaning eroded with time and usage - and a moniker you've wielded proudly for as long as you can remember. You don't recall much of your life before it became part of you.
The daughter born of wedlock. Bastard daughter. The only remaining stain to your family's reputation aside from your late father.
Your mother often tells you that you were her hardest child to birth. When you were littler it was a story relayed to you with affection, and but now it's with such bitter hatred you can feel it lodged in your throat.
The most important element is the predestination in it. You came into the world kicking and screaming, throat hoarse and violent. From birth, you knew you were half-forged with bad blood and came into the world trying to be absolved of it. It's shaped your life, your relationships, everything about you.
The other half of your DNA, the good half, is from your father. Before you were a bastard, you were your parents' only child. Your father was a good man. The best you know. An average, humble man. From a generation of other working class men with a tough job in construction. Your best memories come from when he was still alive.
A quiet life, untainted by the residual bitterness of your mothers heritage. You lived away from it, outside of it. The mother in your memories from back then seem like a dream now, some mirage from long ago - disinterested in anything but you and your father. Your mama and papa. Your father took good care of you both, and your mother loved him madly.
You lived as a normal family in a small apartment just outside of Gifu for the first seven years of your life. You attended a small local school and had friends with crooked teeth and messy hair.
Your childhood was mostly happy if you break it up into pieces like that. Blissfully uneventful.
There's a concise break of change of what your life was versus what became of it. Your fathers death the splinter in the wood, separating the two halves.
The worst of your childhood, of course, came in your fathers passing. Not just because of the loss, but what it made of your life. His funeral welcomed people of all walks of life with the most notable absence of your elusive mothers side of the family.
Another old memory you have with your mother is looking at her face during your fathers wake. The deep darkness of her eyes, sunken in and hollow. The first time you ever found her terrifying instead of comforting. While the world mourned your father, your mother—you think—mourned her life.
Forced into single motherhood with no prospects and no career, your mother decided it was best for the both of you to return home.
You think the worst of your life started there.
Your mother's side of the family has never welcomed you with open arms. You wouldn't come to know why until much later. You were a child then. There's no way you could've known about feuds that deep.
The only thing you knew was that you were hated vehemently, and nothing could change that.
Your grandmother's estate was always frightening to you in your childhood. You've yet to grow out of that feeling despite living there for the last fifteen years. It's remained unchanged since you moved in and the lights in the hall never seems bright enough. Jade green painted walls and white tile floors. Some rooms have classically Japanese flooring and heirloom paintings from the Heian era. Others modernized with sterile whites and grays and house plants that add no life to it at all. Stretched wide with tens of rooms, and easy for a child to get lost in.
A sinking abyss. A terrible place. A dark labyrinth. Anxiety inducing to even think about now. No place for a child your size or your age.
The best way to describe your childhood after your father died was cold. Removed from your life in the suburbs and placed among other rich kids, you became overtly self-conscious of the differences between you and them. Them being anyone who grew up wealthy and your other extended family. You were constantly reminded of your place as the bastard child. Later learning how your mother left her fiance many years ago for your father, your poor and worthless father.
(You theorize any warmth that your mother had for you was buried in your dead dads casket. Living there, among them, made sure she'd never find it again.)
Your mother is the most complicated part of your life. You don't have a time for when she gave up on raising you. There was a year when she tried, you think. For the most part, you lived in that house utterly alone. 
At first that abandonment was miserable (as it would be to any child, certainly) but a time came where you were glad you saw so little of her.
Your mother, who you had once loved and thought highly of, became a pitiful prey animal in the four walls of your grandmother's house. Small and anxious and utterly hateful. A bunny born with some cosmic knowledge and horrific understanding that its destiny is to become food for a wolf. Viciousness between her siblings, no doubt fostered by your grandparents and their establishment, tore apart the aspects of her your father mended and ruined her. You were too little to stop it. 
Blood feuds that ran bone-chillingly deep plagued most of the interactions with your extended family for as long as you've been a part of them. Your mother has exactly four siblings. Two sisters between her with her as the middle daughter, and two brothers. One of which is estranged so completely you don't know his name.
And the other being your Uncle Sukuna.
Your hatred for your aunts and their children came to you rather naturally. For every gala and ball and charity fund your worthless bloodline ever raised, came catty arguments and verbal abuse from the shallow mouths of your beloved cousins. You had nothing to prove to anyone in that house. You were detested since your birth and your grandparents made no small effort to show you through as much neglect and verbal lashing as they could get away with.
Rotten girl. Cursed daughter. You're the reason your mother is like this. You're the reason she is miserable. You should've been buried with your father.
Compared to the experience of your grandfather ripping into you at age ten for simply being alive, your cousin's commentary on you was remarkably uninteresting. You resented them for being nuisances, though, with the exception of maybe one who bucked it out of that place as soon as they could. Just like you planned too.
For a long time, Sukuna wasn't around enough to have a real presence in your consciousness. You tried not to think of your extended family more than you had too. You got used to not knowing about your relatives living there, but there was no one so elusive as him.
It was as if, increasingly, you heard whispers of his name at everything you were forced to attend.
The first time you ever meet your Uncle, you're freshly sixteen. It's the birthday party your mother throws for you each year in an effort to show how close the two of you are to the rest of your relatives.
The first time you see Sukuna in person, the only thing on your mind is how much he stands out from the rest of your relatives. He's a head taller than the tallest person there, and he's...bigger. He's not clean or neat, scruff lining his chin. Old, dark eyes. Visible tattoos that reek of disgraced son and hardly of prodigy.
At sixteen, you understood intimately what your family considered to be gold standard. Your uncle was antithetical to it. His very existence a paradox to the ideas you've had been hammered into you for years. Dyed hair, piercings, tattoos - his suit jacket undone to expose his chest. Lacking respect and formality and dignity. 
He was a lot like you. You got that impression, somehow.
When your eyes met with your uncles for the first time, you had your second fully formed thought about him.
Dangerous. Like an alarm. Like a ringing bell, throbbing through your skull and pulsing through your teeth. Some part of you just knew that he was a very dangerous man. Not just a wealthy one.
The first conversation you ever had with your uncle proves to be the most significant. Brief, yet - tonal in all ways. The gold standard for how he viewed you. How he would view you.
How he would treat you.
("So you're the new brat,"
Your uncle is an imposing man. You are sixteen and slightly tipsy, which is the least horrible thing you could be since your other cousin is coked out in the bathroom upstairs. You sway, staring at him. You think that's disrespectful.
He's the kind of man who might kill you for that. Might hit you. But you don't find it in yourself to challenge your defiance when you're far from sober and even father form happy. You lean your weight to one side and hum.
"New bastard," You correct him, and take another sip of the flute of champagne in your hand. "My worthless fathers, worthless daughter."
Sukuna pauses, his eyes widening before his lips break out into a grin. You wonder if it's because you're drunk. You think he's staring at you. Your eyes are too blurry to tell but you think he's gazing down the low dip of your top. At the curve of your chest. Leering at the body you've yet to even grow into.
"Tenacious," Your uncle says, and takes a long drink of his sake. You stare at the edge of his glass, carmine eyes gazing so deeply at you - you think you'll throw up. "You're your mothers daughter. Through and through.")
The night of your sixteenth birthday, your uncle announced he'd be opening a business venture in Tokyo. All this time he'd been doing work overseas, but seeing family helped finalized his decision. You remember the look on his face when he announced it. Remembered his eyes searching on you through the crowd as he held the mic up to his lips. How he named you the main reason, one conversation and he grew so fond of his little niece. That you were a clever girl, and that even though he hadn't known you long - he was sure you'd go so far.
Happy Birthday to you, little lamb.
You remember best the feeling afterwards. How the crowd went nearly silent. Hundreds of eyes darting your way in seas of strangers. All the attention people hadn’t paid suddenly mattering, all the congratulations. You remember how they crowded you and how your uncle came to your rescue with a cheeky grin and air of nonchalance.
You remember feeling sick. You remember the chill creeping up your spine, bile in your throat - all wet eyes and nausea.
Your uncle is a dangerous man. And you, the uninteresting bastard daughter, had caught his full attention.
The next four years of your life would pass so slowly, you often wondered during them, if you died that night and you'd live through these days as punishment for the crime of existing.
A little after your birthday, your uncle moved back to Japan permanently - in a residence not far from your grandmother's estate. He became a permanent fixture in your life. Many things came with that reality, none of them being especially pleasant.
You learn three things in the four years you spend with your uncle in your life.
The first is that your uncle is more powerful than you can really understand.
Through conversations at your kitchen table about his escapades abroad, you learn nothing of the work he actually does. Only what it involves, who it involves - foreign governments and people much more powerful than your family. Your uncle has ties to the Gojo family, and the Zenins'. Your time here teaches you that they make up two halves of private militarized arms and they work domestically and internationally. The only thing you need to know about them is they are filthy rich, richer than your own family and twice as corrupt.
And Sukuna works with them. Knows them rather intimately, from the pictures you've seen of Sukuna and Gojo Satoru drinking together - two prodigal sons with silver spoons and unsettling demeanors.
The second thing you learn is that your uncle's power and influence extend past all borders and include your grandparents and relatives. In the years he'd been away from home, he's garnered a formidable reputation. You never cared to notice it before, but it's all you can see now. Every arrogant, vapid relative you have the displeasure of calling family sees your uncle as some sort of king. The golden ticket to grandparents approval. A wishing well for all their hopes and dreams - so long as they appease him.
They fawn over him. Sukuna knows it. But they're all so busy trying to get on his good side they never catch his subtleties. Never seem to notice the cold sarcasm and biting edge to his questions. They pander and peacock to him constantly, but not one of them has sense enough to understand him a little deeper. Except you, incidentally. That's part of your problem
The third thing you learn about your uncle is that he takes pleasure in your cleverness no one in your life has since.... who knows? Since your father died, you think.
And you are clever. A head smarter than the rest of your family and a try-hard in all aspects. You graduated highschool top of your class and got scholarships into better schools. It was never about proving your worth of course, but about survival. You wanted away from this place, and the only way to cut your ties completely is to carve a life for yourself. Academia, education, using your name to make connections - you've been working silently on it since you were in middle school.
The only person who'd ever noticed your accomplishments was Sukuna. In between his work, he'd visit you in your room. You grew close in one sense of the word. It was a secret kept between you - but Sukuna often reminded you of it. That he saw you for who you were when no one else did. That his interest in you exceeds your own understanding, and it'd be in your best interest to remember that.
Some half-way between threats and affection, for four years - your uncle remained at your side. Uneasy as you were, he'd never try to advance on you while you were still in highschool. Some part of you knew he wasn't above it. Rather his interest hinged on getting to know you.
Your uncle is above all things manipulative.
Rather he preferred to keep you on your toes during the duration of your time together. To get close but not too close. To get to know each other openly. Your uncle made sure everyone in your family knew of his fondness for you. He'd keep you close to his side or follow you around, always in public places with a million eyes. He'd whisper to you, laughed and asked questions.
You hated being the center of attention, so Sukuna turned it on you any chance he got. It made it hard for you to refuse him, but mostly it made it hard to go under the radar without his protection. It made it hard for your relatives to insult and berate you.
You hated it. You hated accepting his kindness, because you know your uncle well enough to know that everything in the world came with a cost. And that this protection is little more than luxury, promised to you as long as you played nice.
And you always did play nice. But you were cautious. Never alone too long in the same room. Never somewhere too late. Never drunk, never high. Always within distance of a door. Sukuna was a dangerous man, and you may be a bastard but you're no fool.
It'd work for years. You evaded any real alone time with him for years. Years.
Until earlier this year where your mother had made arrangements for you to spend the summer with your dear old Uncle - in his villa, far from the safety of Japan's main island.
In the years of your uncle's favoritism towards you, no one has been more pleased than your mother. You've come to hate her for it. Your relationship hasn't been good in years and for her to suddenly attempt to be your mother again felt like a mockery.
(It mostly felt like a betrayal. You didn't think she could betray you a second time after she all but abandoned you the minute she stepped foot in that house.
Like something possessing the corpse of the mama in your dreams, your seething hatred towards her started then you think.)
You'd spent years indifferent to her, but it was this change that made you hate her down to your bones. You were furious about the decision. Furious she didn't bother asking, furious about all of it.
About everything.
An entire summer alone with the man you know to be most dangerous to you. You wouldn't put it past Sukuna, to plan this around you - but it didn't make it any less frustrating.
("You'll be going with your uncle," Your mother says, hardly listening to you. There's a baby on her hip, your half-brother and a vacant look in her eyes. You feel your jaw tighten. "We've already made plans. Your stepfather,"
"Your husband." You correct. Your mother gives you a tight-lipped smile.
"We are going on a family vacation. Your grandparents wouldn't tolerate you here alone , so you're going and that's final."
"I don't need to live with you," You seethe, fighting the urge to grab her and punch her. You've never been violent. Your mother makes you homicidal. "I can find my own fucking place, I'm twenty I don't need-"
She slams something. Your half-brother makes watery eyes. She stares at you distantly, righteously angry. Whether she's earned that anger or not, it makes your mood worse. .
"This is the least you could for me. For us." She hisses, turning around. You think of killing her. "For all the shit you put me through."
"What I put you through? Fuck you," You admit, your throat burning like a star falling through the atmosphere. Then, through a shaky breath"There's something off about him, mom. Do you understand what I'm fucking saying? Where you're sending me?
Three expressions pass over her face. The ghost of grief, some kind of solace and then more vacancy. She swallows, turns around to keep folding baby clothes. Her voice trembles. She knows she's sending you to your doom. Knows what waits for you as soon as you go.
"You're going. We need this." She says, and still doesn't turn to look at you. Her voice is so frigid it doesn't sound like hers anymore. "That's final."
You shouldn't be shocked by it anymore, but it doesn't make it easier.
You slam the door on your wait out. You hope their plane crashes on the way there.)
You tried your best to worm your way out of the situation before the semester closed out. But Sukuna, three steps ahead of you at all times, made sure that wasn't possible. Your uncle owned a villa out on an island, private - and the bags had already been packed. You'll like it there, he assured you so many times, it's comfortable. There's a good view and the kids in the place will remind you of the kids you grew up with.
(It's hard not to notice the ways in which Sukuna tempts you into wanting to go. Though there's nothing, truly, that could make the experience a pleasant one - it's posed to appeal to you. A place to remind you of your childhood. You try not to think about it.)
Despite your protests, despite your vehement frustration - there was nothing you could do but go. If you didn't go with Sukuna, it'd be enduring 3 months alone with your grandparents. You could try to crash with friends but the friends you've made so far wouldn't dream of being so polite and you dare not think of burdening your childhood friends with your family problems. They deal with enough as is.
The last option was running away. You're desperate enough to entertain it. You do, several times - considering what the worst outcome could be. All scenarios end with Sukuna coming to find you, because he's crazy and connected like that. Even if he's deliberate in not displaying those parts of himself, you know his apathy to be a facade.
You know him well. He knows you well. It feels like a competition to see who can outsmart the other that you were forced into with no say.
So, come the end of your third year of college - a driver picks you up right as your finals are finished to take you to the airport. A private jet, a nauseating display of wealth just for your uncle to torment you with you're sure.
On the plane ride to a small island on the coast of Japan, you think to yourself that all gods in the world must've abandoned you before you were ever born.
__
The first few weeks of your stay in the island of Nii-jima prove to be uneventful.
For a small island, it's still governed through something related to Tokyo. It's not the city or even the country, some quiet and relaxing in between. There are people here who've lived for generations and others who are only touring. Your uncle's villa though, is far from all life - and a few miles out from a beach.
You can hardly understand what a single man needs such a big house for. There's staff there too, though less than at your grandparents place which you're grateful for. You've met six of eight, two of them people who take care of the yards and garden.
Sato-san is the woman you see most often. The one cook Sukuna has and the woman who's been working longest. She is kindhearted and sturdy, often bringing her grandchildren with her. She's quiet and motherly - and so warm you're unsure of how to behave around her. Your uncle is seemingly fond of her which is saying a lot. She speaks highly of him. 
It's been so long since you've experienced something like maternal warmth, you're awkward around her. You try to not be too attached, try not to be fond of anything in this house because you know something horrible and dormant lies within it and you do not want to stay. Don't even want to entertain the idea of staying.
But Sato-san is good to you, with wrinkles and sunspots and a bright laugh. Her grandchildren are so well-behaved you wonder about how they were raised. A girl about seven and a boy about four, always quiet and inattentive. You've grown fond of them too, despite how bad you normally are with children. They're easy to be around.
You're frustrated mainly because you don't hate being here. The people are kind and welcoming and everyone locally is pleasant and good. You've been in the city too long, with insane people too long, and everything feels refreshing. The bus here is free and you can be at the beach whenever you like. You've made friends here - organically, with no strings attached. .
For the first time in your twenty years of living, you even have a guy you think is cute. It seems small, but back home everyone knows who you are. You've never had a relationship work out for one reason or another, but here? Here no one knows you, and the boy you meet at the beach with his friends is just a boy.
You don't want to like being here, but you do - and you don't want Sukuna to come back and he will. Nothing ever works out for you.
The worst of your luck you think builds on the edge of that thought.
You come home tonight doing a lot of things you would not normally. 
For one, you've gotten yourself drunk. The reason being the cute boy aforementioned invited you down to the beach with his friend. You justified going thinking if you were going to be miserable all summer - a single good memory wouldn't kill you.
You had fun. Your swimsuit is underneath your short skimpy clothes, and you sat in his lap and made-out with him all evening. Got to pretend you were a normal girl and you got to kiss for the first time. You still reek of alcohol and his cheap cologne. Blissfully uneventful. 
When you stumble into the foyer of the house with blurry vision and hear the T.V. playing, you know it instinctively that peace is going to be short-lived. You know that your uncle is home, and that he was waiting for you.
All the hairs on your neck raise. A shift in the atmosphere makes it hard to think clearly. Your lungs barely get enough oxygen in them to keep you upright. You think of leaving. You think of running up marble stairs to your room in hopes he won't catch you.
"Brat," Is yelled from the living room. Right, as if you'd ever get so lucky. You jump in your skin. "You home?"
Your stomach churns. You feel sick.
"Come to the living room."
You go obediently when Sukuna calls you, trying not to stumble over your two feet.You don’t think there’s more options than fearful compliance. 
Your uncle is watching Scarface on the big flatscreen on the TV. The subtitles are on in Japanese though you don't think he needs them. He only barely turns his head to look at you, his interest piqued when he sees what you're wearing.
You feel sixteen again, self-conscious of your body and womanhood. He hides it even less than he did the first time - the leering. He notices your skimpy shorts and top, the bottom of your bikini. And he grins, and stares but doesn't say anything.
"Oh?" He says, calm and casual, glancing back at the T.V. "Finally went and had some fun did you? Thought all that studying turned you into a bookish little shut-in permanently."
You don't say anything, arm clutching your other self-consciously.
"Did you need something?"
He snickers, low and predatory. "Come on. You're here to spend time with me so let's spend time together."
You don’t bother asking where he’s been for the last few weeks.  Your gut churns, feet heavy as they drag you to the far end of the couch. Sukuna stares as you sit hesitantly. You have no doubt he's going to make you move, but he's kind enough to leave you alone for now.
"Have fun on your..." He gives you another knowing look then laughs. "Outing?"
You aren't sure how to respond. "Just drank with some friends."
"Friends," He mimics, feeling the words out in his mouth. "The kind of friends that smudge the lipstick off your mouth, huh brat?"
You flush suddenly, embarrassed - and Sukuna barks a laugh. You don't know what he's expecting you to say there so you opt for nothing.
"Sorry," Is the only thing you can manage. Placating. He lets out a puff of air through his nose and relaxes further. There's an air to him, of nonchalance, that unsettles you more than if he was angry or unpleasant. Your throat bobs.
"You're a big girl now," He comments - sleazy and indignant. His indecency towards you, about you glints like a star. A sharp canine and piercing red eyes examine you from his peripherals. "Now that you're showing off it's only natural boys flock to you, hm?"
You can't explain the way this comment makes you feel. So much said with so little. The gap between is and has always been miles wide except sometimes it's not. Your uncle is unusual. Cold-blooded, manipulative, ruthless. There's no warmth in him in a comfortable, loving way. 
There's even less of a normal relationship between you.
But you both exist in this space with... similar awareness. Of the world. Of yourselves. There's a conscious intelligence to him that's reflected in you - that you are both fractured parts of your grandparents bloodline in two separate bodies. That self-awareness affords him a presence. In your mind. In your fear.
You are undoubtedly related. Sukuna revels in that.
It’s rare to see that kind of awareness in your family. You’ve never felt threatened by people dumber than you, even if they had more power or money. Vapid and shallow and useless - there’d never been anything that could win you on. It might sound cocky, but it’s true. It’s been true. 
It’s why Sukuna frightens you. He has everything, but above all - he’s smart. And hard for you to read. 
You swallow, shakily - your eyes looking down at your hands. In a profoundly long beat of silence, the movie plays. A fair bit of gunshots echo through the loud speaker and they startle you.
"You scared? Come sit closer, then." He tells you, less than asks you.
You stand and sit next to him, still a distance away. Sukuna remains unmoving. You don't know what to do with yourself.The silence seems to stretch for miles and minutes. Sukuna just watches the T.V. and stares at his phone - occasionally answering messages. You stay like that for a long time. 
"Need a smoke," He says, and it's not really directed at you. "Maybe later. Wouldn't wanna make you sick."
"People smoke around me all the time."
"Do you smoke?"
You shake your head, too tipsy to lie. He laughs at that. "Not even weed?"
You don't bother mentioning legality, you both know it doesn't matter between your lineage.
"Don't like the taste."
"How interesting. What a straight-edge kid. Most I've seen you get is drunk and this is the drunkest I've ever seen you. Still sober enough to talk clearly though."
"I just drink socially,"
"Ohh," He says, and then grins a little sharper. "A little shot of courage to fuck that little college boy then?"
This makes you jolt. "We didn't fuck—"
"No?" He looks genuinely surprised at this, though it's mild. "Poor kid must've wanted too if you came around him wearing that. Unless he came in his pants soon as you sat on him. Boys that age do stuff like that,"
The comment about his age reminds you of how old your uncle really is, and something in your chest flares hot.
"It wasn't that either—I've never-"
He cuts you off. "You're a virgin?"
You flush, stopping yourself from answering and he laughs.
"Ohhh, that's good. Very good," He grins, so genuinely pleased it makes you shiver. "I like virgins. Easy to please."
"That's—It wasn't for you."
For the first time in your relationship, Sukuna bridges the gap between you. He sits up and forward, his hand finding the bare skin of your knee. He rests it there, his thumb circling the flesh.
"Don't touch me," You hiss. Sukuna tightens his grip, but not threateningly. He turns to look at you that time, and you can't help but look back.
There's something in his degeneracy that horrifies you. It's fondness, you think. Genuine fondness.
"You sure?" He licks his teeth in a way that reminds you of a wolf. But not one that's starving. There's no desperation in his actions, but a self-assurance. Wolves don't often survive alone, but Sukuna has. And he hungers with the confidence of a predator who has killed all that stand before him. That's never been told no to what he wants to eat.
Your heart stops. Your voice a low whisper. "Stop,"
"You say that but you came in the house looking all desperate for sex and approval. You always look like that. Have for a little longer than what's normal for a girl your age,"
"I don't look like that!"
"You would've fucked that little college twerp if you stayed wouldn't you? Nothing wrong with honesty, brat."
Before you have a chance to understand what goes on around you, Sukuna changes position. You've never gotten a chance to feel and experience how strong he is - not like the way he's manhandling you now. You gasp at the arm around your waist and back. He pins you to the couch in a swift motion, not sure how he's done it, the alcohol making you dizzy.
Sukuna has never crossed the boundary with you like this before. Your heart is thumping loud, beating against your ribs. The source of it eludes you. If it's fear or discomfort or some other thing entirely causing such noice. 
There's a certain blase in his attitude that makes you forget momentarily about the taboo and gives way just to the tension between you. You feel it for the first time with his body pressed against you, all hot and heavy. He smells of cologne, but it lacks the acidity cheap ones tend to have. There’s strong hints of cigarettes and aftershave accompanying it. Appearance wise, he has lines in his face like a man in his forties. 
You don't know what's wrong with you. With a relationship so fucked up from the start, you thought crossing this line would feel different. You think you want to throw up, but you're completely calm. 
You want to be disgusted. You want to thrash and kick and scream and fight. You squirm away from him, the threads of what's left of your moral conscience urging you to do so. Like a last ditch effort to keep you sane. 
But there's just. Something. Something so inevitable about it that your heart doesn't beat at all. The panic itself feels hollow in nature. You are a rotted log and Sukuna has ripped the soft wood out of you with relative ease. But you’ve been that way for a long time, and nothing hurts. Not really.  
It's relieving in the worst way. 
"Get away from me,” You whisper again with noticeably less fight. Sukuna looks at you bright-eyed.
"You're a good kid," He says. The genuine praise knocks the air out of your lungs. That disgusts you more than anything else happening between you so far. "Interesting. A lot brighter than the other kids in our family."
Our family. You wince. .
"Stop, this is—" You don't know what word to use. He's your uncle and you're his niece and he's been gazing at you like this for god knows how fucking long. "Stop."
"You've got something going on behind your eyes at least, even if you're still just a wet-nosed and angry little housecat," He says, staring down at you. He's so imposing. His facial hair and his various tattoos. Everything about him, down to his bones. "But I can't tear my eyes away from you at the same time. You know that?."
You do know that. You cast your gaze away.
"I applaud how cautious you've been. But it didn't make a difference in the end. You know that too, right?"
You don't say anything.
"Clever little lamb you are, indeed. I like that about you." He hums, leaning down closer to you. His face is inches from yours. "You should be smart enough to know how this ends. But you know, you've been so entertaining to me this whole time I feel like I should at least be a little nice. So I'll offer you something. A deal of sorts, we can even write it on paper."
This catches your interest and he knows it does. He knows. You’re cut from the same cloth. And this place has made you lose your character, just like it always does. So if it means your survival and sanity or your morals, one comes before the other.
He grins at you.
"Come stay with me. Here in Nii-jima and back at my estate at home. I'll take care of your expenses and whatever else. I have better connections than the old hag," He says, leaning down even closer to you. You can smell him. He's intoxicating "You can be away from everything. I'll even let you have boyfriends and girlfriends over. You can throw sleepovers. I don't care. You can do whatever you want."
"What's in it for you?"
You can feel his knee press up against your cunt through your shorts and you gasp, hand going up to his shoulder. "This. Been thinking about this tight little cunt for a while now. You'd have to be at my beck and call. We'd be the closest uncle and niece in all of Japan," He snickers.
You wince at the reminder. You hate yourself for considering it. "Why me? There are plenty of women who are dying to fuck you."
He scoffs a little. 
"Once we get you a little farther from the trenches kid, you might start to understand me. Wealth, fortune, fame - all of it's fucking boring. I came back to Japan prepared to leave again but you made me stay. Not much more to it than that."
"You're fucking your blood-niece out of curiosity? Your sister's daughter?"
"My sister never did anything good with her life except marrying your father and making you." Sukuna says, and laughs lightly. You hate how validated it makes you feel. Your skin crawls. "I'll have to thank her for it. She'll be pleased.
You make a face at him, uncertainty. Apprehension. Fear. Frustration. Everything you’ve been compartmentalizing comes bubbling to the surface and making your head feel weighted with lead. You want to kill everyone and everything including him. You want to run away from this place. You want to go home, though you don’t know where that would be anymore. They demolished your old apartment years ago. 
You think spending a few years getting fucked and used might be less miserable than the suffocation of living with your mother and your baby brother and your grandparents. How much abuse you’ve endured already vs. what awaits you when their true heir starts to walk and talk horrifies you. 
You look at him. 
“You’re horrible.” 
“Tell me something new.” 
“I hate you. I don’t…want this. Any of this. I want to go home.” 
You’re just venting. Really. You’ve made the choice already. 
“Has there ever been a time where it’s been about what you want? I doubt it. But if you stay with me, appease my wishes for a while, well,” He laughs confidently. “You’ll get something, at least. Better than what you have.” 
“The contract. Are you serious about that?” 
He laughs at you. “Sure. If it makes you feel better, you can draft it and I’ll just have my lawyer sign. Bring your defenses. Whatever. Don’t really care as long as I get what I want.” 
“And that’s me?” 
“Seems like it,” 
You purse your lips. It seems like a rash decision to make in the moment, but truthfully your heads never felt so clear. Even with the alcohol. 
“...Fine.” 
Sukuna hums when you agree. It feels anti-climatic somehow. Not that he’s not expecting your yes but that you’ve come to accept it so easily. It’s not like this takes away from the coercion, from the awful feeling of being violated. Sukuna was going to rape you whether you liked it or not. This way, at least, you get something out of it. This way it’s something you choose. Something tangible results from your inevitable doom - the fate your mother damned you to. 
It affords you some plausible deniability too. In truth, you’re afraid for yourself. You’re afraid of what will happen when he finally does cross the line completely. You’re afraid you’re going to accept it, that it’s going to feel pleasurable, that years of repressing yourself will come back to make sure you never return to normalcy. 
What will become of you when Sukuna has his way with you? Will you become a more apathetic version of yourself? Is it possible? Will you sober and feel like scrubbing your skin clean in the shower? 
The worst outcome, you think, is nothing so horrible happening. The worst outcome is knowing you’ve fallen far enough for none of it matters at all. 
Sukuna grins down at you. “What a well-behaved niece I have. Good girl. You’ll do well living with me.” 
You make a displeased face at him, but your breath catches in your lungs soon after. Your uncle leans in to kiss you and you close your eyes trying to get away from it. But it’s true that your body has been burning up from the inside since you came back home - a dull throbbing between your legs turning you all kinds of stupid. 
When Sukuna kisses you - your first thought is that he’s unexpectedly gentle. 
You didn’t think he’d care about kissing to begin with. In your head you thought he’d tug off your shorts brutishly and fuck you without any prep. You were readying yourself for tears and pain, for screaming and crying - the sharp sobs of your own voice piercing your ears. 
A gentle press of lips startles you from your drunk haze. You can feel the scruff of Sukuna’s face on your own, your arms wrapping around his neck instinctively. The taste of cigarettes and something else mildly smokey fill your mouth and make you dizzy. Sukuna tastes like kissing a man - or what you might’ve imagined that to be like. Not a boy, but a man. You feel his strength, your hands splaying at the base of his neck and feeling the faded undercut of his neck, the texture of his dyed hair. His weight shadows you, his strength making you feel fluttery. 
He doesn’t tease you all during the kiss like you’re expecting. Nothing goes the way you expect. He kisses you in slow, short pecks and escalates to his tongue dipping against your lips - a little added element to his deep kisses. He kisses like he’s been doing it for longer than you have, with experience and finesse. You’re all but too conscious of everything little thing. About the sounds you make, about knowing when to breathe, about trying not to get wrapped up in the pleasant euphoria. 
All you can think about is how good he is at it. Effortlessly good. You think part of you latches onto it to avoid thinking about what’s happening. Denial feels pleasurable at least. 
You kiss like that for so long, your lips have swollen - sticky with spit and saliva. Sukuna has a self-satisfied smirk on his face when he pulls away from you, laughing at the flush in your expression. 
You hit him lightly, looking away from his face. 
“It’s a wonder you’ve kept your virginity,” He says, chuckling. “A kiss and a dirty old man like me could’ve taken it from you.” 
“Shut up,” Your reply is weak. He laughs against your mouth, and you can’t get over the intimacy of it. You hope you’re deluding yourself but then he kisses the corner of your mouth. Hot, warm air tickles against your jaw and neck when he presses his lips there too and suddenly it occurs to you how real it is. 
You don’t think your uncle is capable of warmth or love or anything that doesn’t come from coercion. But fondness. Maybe fondness. 
He spends more time doing that than what’s comfortable. Relishes the feeling of you in his arms, his bulge grinding against your clothed cunt but not forcefully. Just with enough pressure to make you gasp once in a while when you don’t have a mind to fight it. 
“I won’t take your virginity tonight,” He says declaratively. It surprises you. “You’ve got three months with me. It’d be boring. I’ll give you something else.” He looks at you then, then grins impishly. “What do you want?” 
Your eyes widen, suddenly unsure of yourself. You push away, brought back to reality by the questions. 
“How would I know?” 
He blinks at you. “I know you said you were a virgin, but did you really mean in everything?” 
You pout at him all of a sudden. “So what. I didn’t have that kind of time.” 
Sukuna barks a laugh. 
“Huh. I thought you were a goody two-shoes out of necessity but you really don’t do a damn thing in that house. Not even a boyfriend to do hand stuff with?” 
“Ugh. No, alright? I don’t have time for that kind of thing like I just said.” 
He laughs a little breathless, sitting up for a minute. You’re wondering what it means for you. Sukuna pulls you up along with him. He sits down again with his legs spread before looking at you. He pulls you into his lap with relative ease, until you’re half-way pressed into him with your legs over his thighs. You stare at him, feeling more exposed in this position. You get a closer view of his neck tattoo, realizing how far down his back it must go. You go to ask him what he’s doing - but he’s undressing you before you can. 
Confident, large hands trapeze down your back as he finds the end of your overwear and pulls it off - leaving you in the microkini you wore to the beach. It barely covers your nipples. You made the choice to wear it, yet seeing Sukuna examine it so closely leaves you wallowing and regretful. Still, he’s silent as he does something similar with your jean-shorts. A hand lifting your legs up enough to roll the cheap, denim shorts and discard them right on the marble floors. 
You’re still half-way over his lap - sitting on his thighs but you’re naked now.
You feel yourself growing self-conscious. Never mind that it’s the first time anyone’s seen you this naked, who exactly you’re showing it to makes you want to throw up. He stares for so long you wonder what he’s thinking, a lazy grin splitting his face. A hand nudges your thighs apart, moving your leg to give Sukuna more access to you. With an arm around your waist, his hand cups your cunt, rubbing it softly. You shift nervously. His thumb moves then, rests at the hood of your clit, pulling up to look closer at it. You hold back any noise as he examines you, bent pointer of the opposite hand brushing over the hair on your skin with a laugh. 
“Unexpectedly, it’s pretty,” He says and your eyes shoot wide open. “Good job brat.” 
“What are you,” You pant, your breath hitching as you close your eyes.”staring so much for it?” 
“It’s mine to stare at.”
You don’t think of your uncle as particularly possessive. It’s more like he believes in that so much, so unshakingly nothing else could be true. You wonder if there’s more to it. He didn’t seem angry even after you told him about seeing a boy. 
But comparing the two, Sukuna outclasses him in all ways that it should matter. He must be confident about that. 
He spreads your thighs a little further. You’re half tucked into his side now - an arm around the back of his neck and shoulders. Sukuna ducks down a little, nudging his nose against your neck and scraping his teeth lightly against your throat. He doesn’t do much other than… touch you. Not directly. His other hand, the one not secured around your waist, rubs at your pussy but not in an attempt to pleasure you. It’s exploratory and intimate. He’s just touching you in a way that’s making you restless. And the angle he’s bent down, the proximity gives you a better view of him. From the side where you sit in his lap, you can see the tattoo again. 
You shudder then, pussy suddenly clenching in a way that leaves you ashamed. Your uncle notices, though he doesn’t look up. 
“Thought of something, brat?” 
“No.” You deny, vehemently. He spanks your pussy but not hard. You jolt in reply, a shock traveling up your spine. 
“C’mon now,” He hums, predatory. “Don’t lie. That’s not fun.” 
“Y-your tattoo,” You say, suddenly feeling the influence of alcohol in a way you hadn’t all evening. “It’s…big.”
“Into bad boys or something, kid?” 
You frown. “You look like a yakuza.” 
This makes him laugh, more genuinely than you’ve ever seen him laugh. “Getting warmer, I guess.” 
You don’t say anything to that. Instead spurred by the sudden confidence. “Why aren’t you…touching me?” 
He looks at you surprised then tilts his head. “Is that what you want? 
“I don’t want any of this but it,” You squirm again. “Feels weird.”
“Sounds like you want something, at least. Go on, tell your oji-san what you want.” 
You scrunch your nose up at him, a familiar feeling of disgusting flitting through you. It fades as quickly as it comes.
“I’ve never put a-anything inside,” You admit, suddenly feeling self-conscious. 
“That so,” He hums. His middle finger slides down the wet seam of your cunt as you tell him this. You nod but you don’t think he’s really listening. His hand is warm, and big - and his fingers are thicker than yours. One of yours may as well make two of his, no end to how imposing he is. You don’t protest as he starts to touch you. You simply take a deep breath, holding onto him a little tighter. 
With your head turned towards him, Sukuna leans in again to kiss you. It’s deep from the beginning this time, and a little rougher. He bites lightly on your lower lips as his middle finger dips down towards your sex. Your insides are throbbing, hot and wet as you feel some friction. It’s the first time anyone else has ever held you in your life, every touched you directly like this. Against your will, your body is sensitive to the stimulus. Everywhere he touches you goes alight, and the kiss makes your tummy flutter. A tender feeling of want spreads you open, tears you apart right in front of him. 
With parted lips and a heavy head, you kiss him as his middle finger dips down low enough to penetrate you. A soft gasp pulls from your throat. 
It doesn’t feel unpleasant.
“I thought it was going to hurt more.” You admit, feeling him inside of you. It’s a new sensation but it’s not bad. 
“It shouldn’t hurt if you’re aroused enough. And wet enough. You seem to be both.” 
You frown at him, face pinching. It’s washed away quickly by the sensation of him pushing deeper. It’s hard to describe it as anything other than feeling something inside of you. Deep in a place you didn’t think it could go. You shake a little, trying to get adjusted. Sukuna does it carefully, slowly - thrusting in even strokes and keeping you focused on kissing so you’re not too conscious of it. 
He’s not thoughtful, not really - but you can tell that he’s going slower for your sake and that makes your heart stammer uncomfortably. The last word you’d ever use for him is kind but he’s not being horrible and it’s unsettling you. 
Once one finger goes in and out smoothly, your uncle starts to add another. You feel it that time, the stretch of it - gasping hard at the sudden sensation. Your breath catches in your lungs, hand clutching at his shoulder for purchase. He pulls away from your mouth, his breath near your ear. 
“Easy, little one. Give it a minute.” 
“It feels different. It’s,” You can’t form the words as two fingers penetrate you in full, slowly being eased inside of you until Sukuna is knuckle deep. Your breath hitches. “Not like it hurts.” 
“It’ll feel good in a second.” He says assuredly, voice smooth and raspy against your ear. You feel combative at his confidence, but then a minute passes of him rubbing along your insides and something strikes against you like lightning. You pause, blinking confused as Sukuna laughs. “There it is,” 
“There what is?” 
“C’mon kid, I know you’re too busy with school but you don’t know something so basic about your own body?” 
“What is it, oh.” 
His other hand toys with your clit, rubbing it in slow circular motions as he gauges your reaction to the touch. You jolt from the sudden pleasure, getting used to it slowly. You didn’t realize how badly it was throbbing to be touched until he does it in full. Your mouth dries up immediately. Little shocks of electricity spark up through you as his hands go full in on your body. The combined pleasure starts to uptick, something building slowly but surely. It goes from not feeling like much to feeling like something. Feeling physical. 
Your mouth drops open in sudden shock, eyes lidded as you moan unabashedly - unable to keep the sound at bay. You own a vibrator, use to cum quick and hard just to curb the feeling. You’ve had orgasms on your own but nothing has ever felt like this before. It’s undeniably satiating, mimics the feeling of eating something and nearly making yourself sick on it. You go slack-jawed, your nerves on fire. 
Two fingers curled against your silken walls and another two toying at the sensitive bundle of nerves between your legs leaves little room in your brain to think. The only thing your body seems to remember is how to moan and whine - make these pathetic little noises you’ve never heard in your life. You didn’t even know you could make. Oddly enough, Sukuna is quiet through it. He makes grunts and little affirmatives but he’s mostly silent. You mostly hear the sound of your own voice. 
The sound of your own wetness. You can feel the sticky sensation of your arousal but you can hear it even better. It’s lewd to listen too, wet smacks mixing with the pathetic bleats of your voice make you feel hot all over. Skin prickling with heat and sensation. 
“I knew you were sensitive but haah. If I would’ve fucked you today, you would have cried.” 
The thought drifts idly by about his cock and your whole lower half reacts to it by going weak. It aches just thinking about anything bigger or longer entering you than his fingers. 
“Figure an insolent little kid like you isn’t much of a crybaby. I’m sure I can make you one.” 
You don’t even think about asking what he means. 
“Feels,” You make a gasping noise, body suddenly going tense. “Hngh, fuck. Feels so good, holy fuck.” 
He groans a little. “I’m being too nice to you. I really should be balls deep in your cunt already and I’m not. You gonna cum for me, huh brat?” 
You nod your head dumbly, unable to retort. To think of anything but the sensation washing over you.”Go on. Do it. Cum for your perverted oji-san.”  
Something about the depravity of it sets your mind numb. Your body goes tight, every nerve firing off at once as you grip onto his shoulder and let the feeling of euphoria wash over you. Your whole body is so stimulated it’s numbing. The feeling of pleasure crashes into you, leaves your spine arching - mouth dropped open and nearly screaming. Your sanity melts, fades off completely and your brain feels like it’s gone empty. You close your eyes so hard little splashes of white show up in your vision, like you’re seeing T.V. static. 
You think you scream. You don’t know. You just know that you’re cumming, hard, just from his hands and you’re terrified of what else he’s good at. You don’t think it boils down to sensitivity as the waves of your first orgasm ripple through your body. 
You lay in his arms, sweaty and limp. Your vision is blurry with tears as you open them to look at him. Sukuna is rubbing your side, taking his fingers into his mouth. You look at him surprised as he does. He grins. 
“Tastes good, kid.”
You flush. “Shut up.” 
“Don’t think I’m done with you quite yet.”
Sukuna guides your hand to his pants, over his bulge. You gasp a little at it. His size through clothes is astounding to you. 
“I’m not so generous to leave with nothing, you know.” He pats your thigh, moving you from his lap. “I’ve got a better idea than trying to teach you anything today, so try to hold still.” 
You don’t know what he’s talking about until he guides you on the floor. You’re confused until you feel him position you  - facing towards the couch with your knees spread on the floor. In doggy, you realize a little too late, your upper-half supported by the couch cushion. You feel more confused than you felt a moment ago. 
Sukuna positions himself behind you. You can’t see him, but you can hear the soft rustle of his clothes moving as he stands on his knees behind you. More than that, you can feel his cock resting on your bare ass. You gasp, feeling the weight and size slide against your curves. Sukuna does a breathy little laugh at your reaction. He’s huge. 
“Don’t cry kid. I told you I wasn’t gonna put it in tonight and I meant that,” He hums. His hands come to your hips, all of a sudden pushing them together. “Push your thighs together as tight as you can.” 
You listen to him. You can do it with some effort despite how weak your body feels. You lean forward on the couch for support, bringing your knees together and pressing your thighs. You don’t understand what it’s for until something hard pressing along your spine moves down the curve of your ass. You gasp aloud as his thick cock pushes between your thighs, tip catching against your swollen clit. Your whole body is covered in goosebumps. Sukuna moans low in his throat, resting his head on your shoulder. 
“Fuck, that’s it.” He hums, sounding pleased. “Keep them tight for me, alright girl? Try to at least.” 
Sukuna is wordless as he grips your hips, your flesh dimpling under his bruising grip. You're silent, your voice threatening to spill again as you try your best to listen to him. You keep yourself tight and firm, your hands gripping the couch cushions as Sukuna pushes his cock between the fat of your thighs and starts a pace.
The angle makes you gasp, body feeling weak at the way it touches your clit with each bump. Sukuna doesn’t hold back at all. You’re not being penetrated but the weight behind each of his thrusts makes you feel like you’re being fucked. The bruising sensation of skin against skin - the hard muscles of his own legs smacking against the softness of your thighs. 
Most embarrassing is the way the position makes you conscious of your uncle's cock. You knew he was huge before, but the way he’s thrusting. Where it reaches when he does thrust makes your throat feel nearly tight. You can’t stop thinking about the fact it’ll be inside you. You can’t imagine taking it in your hands - the girth and length of it fucking impossible. And he wants to fuck you with it? Take your virginity? 
He’ll stretch you so open if he does. You can barely think of it fitting in you. When you do, your whole body shudders in a horrible and pathetic way - a new wave of arousal striking a strange chord. As he bumps and ruts against your clit and your mind fills with such lewd images, a new wave of lust starts to pour through you. 
It’s unhelped by the feeling of Sukuna’s cock - getting so close. The throbbing with each thrust and the low, throaty groans he keeps vocalizing against your ear. All of it proves to be too much for you. It shocks you when you feel yourself grow hot all over again. Not even being touched directly and so soon after your first - a mere few minutes. 
And you find yourself with all your muscles tight, your hand reaching back for Sukuna as you plant your face against the cushions and let him fuck hard between your thighs. You feel incoherent, stupid and so fucking horny. You’ve never experienced it. You can’t think of what to moan, so you choose his name. 
This makes him laugh as he bends over you, his teeth biting your shoulder blades. 
“Gonna cum again from this brat? Aren’t you fucking easy? Come on, cum with me. Just like that, take it. Fuck, that’s it. Good. Good girl.” 
It’s the last bit of tension that pushes you over the edge, whether you care to admit it. Your voice breaks as a second orgasm washes through you - more intense but much shorter than the first and you nearly fall limp. You only barely manage to hold yourself up as your uncle keeps thrusting relentlessly. 
You can feel him twitch hard between your thighs when his orgasm finally hits. You shake as you feel him squish the tip between your thighs - hot ropes of cum spurting against the swollen mound of your cunt and dripping down your thighs as he finishes. He smacks your ass as he finishes, making you yelp. Your whole body is rife with exhaustion, finally coming down from high-highs and low-lows. 
“We’re gonna have a lot of fun together for the next few months kid,” He says, almost affection in his words. You’re too exhausted to reply, looking at him over your shoulder. “Let’s get along and do our best.” 
“You’re a sick-fuck, oji-san.” 
“And you’re a whole lot like me, aren’t you kid?.” 
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a-b-riddle · 4 hours
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Part Four
Can't stop thinking about reader losing her cool.
"So we're closed, John." You said, trying to be cordial.
"Is that all you have to fucking say?" He practically growled before huffing. A humorless chuckle rumbling out of his chest. "I suppose not since you won't respond to any of us."
"Don't do that." You said taking a step back. Trying to create some distance between you and him. John would never physically hurt you. That much you knew.
"What?" He asked. His voice rising as he stepped closer to you. "Be angry that you pulled that shit and then left? Stopped talking to us. Changed your fucking locks. Last thing we even knew about you was that you got on a fucking plane and left. Even your friends wouldn't tell us anything besides that you were okay." "Which considering this came out of bloody nowhere, I find it highly unlikely that you are in any way 'okay'."
You took a deep breath. You wouldn't be intimidated. You wouldn't clam up. You wouldn't cry. You won't go back on your decision. You will be cordial and polite and not unleash everything you want to.
"I understand you might be upset, but it's for the best. It wasn't working out and I wanted to end on somewhat good terms. I would appreciate it if you lowered your voice and stopped speaking to me in that way." You could barely recognize your voice. It sounded so scripted. So robotic. But it was something you had been telling yourself. Excuses you had been telling yourself.
Because if you told yourself the truth. The picture you would paint would tell a different story. It wouldn't highlight the fact that John spoke to you like he was one of your men or that Johnny had the emotional capacity of a teaspoon. It wouldn't show what a flake Kyle was or that Simon was well and truly a mean-spirited person.
It would show how you weren't worth it. Four possible men. Four possibilities of happily ever after and none of them chose you. That no one ever did and no one ever would. You weren't worth it. You weren't loveable.
It wasn't right, but it was what the voices had been telling you late in the night. When you would crawl into your cold bed. The silence of the room not filled with John's steady breathing or the sound of Kyle's heartbeat as you laid you head on his chest. The absence of Johnny's occasional snoring or whatever Simon was watching playing in the background of your dreams.
In the void, all your dark thoughts came back at you.
"Upset?" He asked, his voice still louder than you would have liked. "An understatement considering the stunt you pulled."
"You think it was a stunt?"
"So Johnny thought with his dick and didn't plan things out. You should have told him instead of crying to Simon and then pulling this shit." "Christ, I knew you were still young, but I didn't take you for that immature."
"You know what?" "I'm done." "I am so fucking sick of making excuses for you all." "You want to act like I'm the immature one, John?" "You are 35-year-old man who cannot separate his work from his work like. You have continuously talked to and down to me like I am one of your men, only to turn around and always blame your shitty fucking attitude on work. I get that your job is stressful, but I did not sign up to be your verbal fucking punching bag."
"And this come and fucking go incident with Johnny. It has been a consistent issue with him coming over just to fuck. I've asked him for that last six months that 'hey, we've been seeing each other for a year and a half, I would love to meet your family' and suddenly the dates stop. He doesn't ask to see me until after 7 PM. He brings food occasionally, fucks me and leaves. Sometimes before I even wake up."
"And the only reason Kyle is the person I am the least pissed off with is because I haven't even seen him." You took a step closer, not noticing how the anger in John's eyes had softened. "I have not seen Kyle in weeks, to no fault of my own. I stopped reaching out to make dinner plans after the third time he canceled on a date night when I was either on my way or already at the restaurant."
"And Simon?" You scoffed. "Well, it doesn't really matter. After all, as he said I get mine. You all make me cum which is supposed to magically erase how shitty you've all been as partners. It's supposed to erase the nights I've cried myself to sleep debating on whether or not there was something wrong with me. How I'm not good enough to meet anyone else in your lives like some dirty fucking secret. How none of you can even bother to pencil me for a group dinner so I can tell you a publishing house picked up my book. How at some point you all stopped caring or maybe never did."
You took a breath. Blinking quickly to keep the tears at bay.
You wouldn't cry. You wouldn't cry.
"As Simon said it best, I should have known that spreading my legs wouldn’t end with one of you putting a ring on your finger.”
For once, John was silent. Unsure of what to say. An apology starting to form at the tip of his tongue before realizing 'sorry' wouldn't cut it. Not this time.
Had he really been that sharp with you? He knew that there were times he had gotten short, but he almost always apologized immediately after. If not at the very moment he took in your crest-fallen face, then definitely later. But he almost always told you he was sorry. Didn't he?
"So as I said," you swallowed down the lump in your throat. "I'm closed. We're done. Now get out." Your face held no sadness. Even though your eyes were nearly full to the brim with unshed tears, you weren't sad.
You were finally angry.
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hazbinsimp777 · 2 days
Note
Hello! I'd love to request some cuddly fluff with Lucifer, Vox, and Alastor. It's my favorite trio pairing!
CUDDLING HEADCANNONS
Featuring Alastor, Lucifer and Vox
Reader read as female
A/N: I love these three sm! Thank you for the request ember! <3
✅️Fluff
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~ALASTOR~
~ If you are dating Alastor in the first place, you are going to get a lot of privileges that others will not have (obviously) But of course, he still has his boundaries.
~ When you two are cuddling, it will have to be somewhere private. For example, his room, your room, or the room you two share (only when married) at times, when he is in a generous mood, in the hotel's library or lobby couch.
~ Where does he like cuddling? His favorite place he loves cuddling is on his armchair in his room. In an innocent way of course, he loved having you in his lap with your arms around him. This means easy access to your neck when it wants to bite it :3
~ No like sometimes he will just take a bite out of your neck, its not even sexual most of the time, only to the point when there is a light hint of pain, to leave a bite mark, he's just a bastard like that-
Alastor: *bites neck*
Y/n: Alastor! Agh- not again-
*The next day*
Angel: The fuck attacked you?
Y/n, tired: A deer
~ While cuddling, on the bed, he will lay his head on your head, Which you resting in his chest. So you are in comforable pajamas, his is still in his suit, fully dressed.
~ Even from cuddling he doesn't even fall asleep! At night, when you fall asleep from cuddling, he just, stares at you. Sometimes in a creepy way but he just wants to admire everything about you! Admiring your hair, face, closed eyes, your loud/quiet snores. Even when you drool in your sleep (if you do)
~ He will still hold you when you sleep, when he isn't watching you, he is simply reading or listening to jazz on the radio.
~ Alastor MUST ALWAYS be the big spoon, he will not tolerate being the little spoon on ANY circumstances. Okay maybe that was a lie... He will like being small spoon when he had a horrible day and cannot keep his smile up. On days like that, he just wants to be babied and held on those days. But that has only happened twice.
~ Baby this man he still misses his mother :(
~ He might not always ask for cuddles, but he is just too prideful to ask for them, so PLEASE ask him, he is always up for cuddles, he just doesn't want to admit it
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~VOX~
~ This man is so confusing when it comes to cuddling, sense he was hesitant about them at first. In his past no one had asked to cuddle innocently with him, only being sex they desired from him.
~ The first time cuddling, was, delightful, he never thought it would feel this...secured. He had never felt this...loved before. Whenever with you, he feels safe and unjudged, which is new for him, but never unwelcomed.
~ From that point on, he just wants you in his arms 24/7, even during work if you are his assistant. Vox loves the feeling of his arms around you anywhere, especially in public, as if telling everyone, "Yeah! This hot and pretty specimen is mine!"
~ Something he hold dear to that metal heart, is the times when you are sitting down on his lap while he works on things for his business. Vox will usually have his hand on your thigh, gently squeezing anything really. Vox is a multi-tasker.
~ When cuddling in private, he loves telling you how perfect you are, kissing everything he loves about you. Which is everywhere. Not in an sexual way most times, more in like a, "let me show you how much I love you" sort of way.
~ One thing he will NEVER admit to anyone, besides to Velvette and Valentino is that he is a little spoon most of the times you have cuddled. Because they have walked in on that ten times He can't help it! He likes when you wrap you arms around him, he goes FERAL!
~ Night cuddles happen very rarely because he is always working on the latest new tech. But, when they do happen, he makes sure they are memorable and last a very long time.
~ It can be hard at times to cuddle especially with his, interesting shaped head...
Y/n: V-vox?
Vox: Yeah babe?
Y/n: Can you move your head please?
Vox: But I'm corfortable here :( so no >:)
Y/n: Voxy....MOVE YOUR FUCKING HEAD BEFORE I PUNCH THAT SCREEN!
~ This overworked man loves having physical touch with you, don't ever take that away from him. Seriously he will short-circuit.
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~LUCIFER~
~ It is no secret this man LOVES physical touch from his partner. No, I mean it, he can't physically live without touching his partner in some way. He will be more than happy with holding hands or hand around your waist.
~ So I can imagine how much he lives for cuddles, living for your touch.
~ He is actually the one who asked for the cuddles, sure, he was a little shy. Because he hasn't had any for a long time. Ever since Lilith left him of course. Seriously how could she leave this man?
~ Lucifer loves being little spoon, shorter or taller than him, he really doesn't care. Of course, you will be little spoon at times, but I'd imagine those time would be extremely rare for him. But he will NEVER admit that, being the sin of pride.
~ This little short king just like when his domiant partner just cuddles him like a tiny puppy :3
~ When cuddling, he loves burying his face in your chest, giving it little kisses whenever and wherever he can. Long or short hair? One thing is for sure, he is going to play with it in whatever way he can.
~At times you wonder, is he addicted to your cuddles?
Lucifer: Baby! Why are you leaving me, as your husband I need attention. *pouts*
Y/n: Luci, I need to go help Charlie with the hotel *Attempting to get free from his grasp he is stronger than he looks*
Lucifer: *groans*
Y/n: *sigh* I'll give you twice as more when I come back.
Lucifer: YAY!
~ You have to remember this guy had a rough life, I mean, his wife just left him and hasn't had a good relationship with his only daughter for a while.
~ When cuddling, Lucifer loved holding hands with you, rubbing circles with it with his thumb. Placing gentle and soft kisses on your hand, especially on your ring finger. He would even just play with it sometimes, like a little kid.
~ He most ideally likes cuddling on your shared bed, but anywhere like the floor, couch ect. Basically anywhere were you two can lay down and enjoy each others touch.
~ One thing is for sure, he loves everything about you and your cuddling, so please don't ever take that privilege away from him.
A/N: I hope this delivered Ember! And I hope you have a good day.
Drink water and Stay Healthy Lovelies! <3
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lemonlover1110 · 2 days
Text
𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬
Satoru Gojo
[Chapter 24] The Truth
← Previous Chapter - Story Masterlist
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Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader
Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi
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“What are you going to do with him again?” Satoru asks as you get ready to meet up with Suguru. He talks as if he has any right to know. You’re finishing up your makeup in your room while he stands in the doorway.
“Does it concern you?” You look back at him. And he sighs before shaking his head. He guesses it doesn’t. He can’t argue with you about it, yet he stands there, leaning on the doorframe. You finish putting on your lipstick before looking back at him and raising your eyebrows, “Aren’t you going to Ren? He’s waiting for you to talk about his birthday plans.”
“Right…” Satoru answers, turning around and going to Ren. He finally leaves you alone with your thoughts, finally not having to listen to his stupid comments. As much as you don’t enjoy his presence at the moment, you still have to tolerate him because of your son.
Slowly you are seeing his point of view, but that doesn’t mean you forgive him. Satoru was young, easy to manipulate– Well, you aren’t exactly focused on his age but more about the fact that Satoru was recently grieving the loss of his father and in a way felt threatened that he would lose everything simply for not following orders. What hurts you the most right now is that he didn’t even try to explain the situation to you, he assumed you were better off going your own separate ways.
“Mommy!” Ren comes running into your room, disrupting the peace that you were just granted. You look at the puppy eyes that adorn his face, and you already know he wants something. You allow him to speak first, not wanting to accuse him of something that he might not even do. But you’re proven right, “Can I get a puppy for my birthday?”
“Remind me how old you’re turning, Ren.” You tell him, and Ren holds up five fingers, a grin on his face as he shows off his big age. You fight back a smile, trying your best to remain as serious as you can possibly be. You won’t be easily convinced by him. “Five. Such a big age, right? But not enough to take care of a puppy, plus you’re starting school soon.”
“School?” Ren asks as if it’s the first time he hears of it. You’ve been preparing for him, telling him about it daily.
“You know, the place where you’ll be going to learn and make friends for the next thirteen or so years of your life.” You answer, and his mouth turns into a circle when he remembers. “Who’s going to take care of the puppy then? I still have to work.”
“Granny.” Ren answers, and you chuckle as you shake your head. Your mother isn’t exactly a big pet person, if you were to give her the responsibility of taking care of a puppy, she might just kill you. He puts his hands together and begs, “Please, mommy, please! I want a puppy!”
“Ren, we both know that–” You begin, but you realize you’re just wasting your breath. You look at the time, realizing that if you don’t finish up soon, you’ll be late. “Talk to your father about it, I have to finish getting ready.”
“Daddy!” Ren yells as he walks out of your bedroom. Maybe you made a mistake since Satoru loves to spoil Ren, and Satoru doesn’t like to think of additional responsibilities since he’s not the one that’s at Ren’s side at all times.
You’ll deal with it when Satoru attempts to get Ren a puppy, for now you’re going to focus on your own problems. Your own problem being your meeting with Suguru.
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You wait for Suguru at the café near your apartment. You have a beverage in your hand, taking an occasional sip, making sure you don’t finish it before Suguru finally decides to show up. Your eyes are glued to the door, waiting for him to finally make his grand entrance. 
You feel the nerves creeping through all of a sudden, and you have no idea why. Maybe it’s because you lied to him about Satoru, or maybe it’s because you’ve been avoiding his calls. You take a deep breath to calm your nerves, looking at the time. If he doesn’t get here within five minutes, you’ll leave. He’s running late, and you have no intention of waiting for him all day.
In reality, you’re just looking for an excuse to leave. You want to avoid this confrontation as much as you can, but you know you have to face him eventually. Suguru has been one of Satoru’s closest friends, and you were close to dating, the least you can do is give him one last conversation. You can’t avoid him forever.
Your eyes shift back and forth between the time and the door, mentally praying that he doesn’t show up. However, your prayers go unanswered when he walks through the door, his eyes immediately landing on you. He gives you a soft smile as he approaches your table.
“Hi, Suguru.” You try to return his smile, but it looks awkward. Suguru points at the counter, telling you that he’s going to get his beverage before sitting down with you, to which you nod in response. You take another deep breath, trying to calm yourself. He looks fine, and you hate to ruin his day– Perhaps he won’t care, but you doubt it. You told him a very serious lie about his best friend, you doubt he’ll be too happy with you after finding out.
“It’s so nice to see you after… So long.” Suguru sits across from you. You shift in your seat, adjusting your posture before focusing on him. You nod with an awkward smile on your face. At that moment you know, this is going to be a long hour.
“It is.” You agree before a long awkward pause ensues. You clear your throat, about to ask him how he’s been holding up, but Suguru has other plans when he speaks up before you,
“Why have you been avoiding me?” He goes straight to the point. There’s a reason why you two are there, and it isn’t for small talk. Maybe you can get to more fun matters later or another day, but not right now. 
“I’ve just been busy with Satoru and figuring out this whole parent thing, that…” You begin with an excuse but you can’t finish the sentence. You bite down your lip before you take a deep breath. You have to say it, if you keep dragging it you’ll feel worse. “I partially lied to you. Satoru never suggested an abortion at the thought of me being pregnant, I didn’t tell him because he didn’t give me the chance to, and then I couldn’t tell him because… His mother didn’t want him to know.”
And he chuckles. Suguru lets out a laugh, which makes you furrow your brows. You expected many different reactions, but not a laugh. You chew on the inside of your cheek, anxiously waiting for him to say something else.
“Is that why you haven’t been answering my calls?” Suguru asks, and you hum in response even though it’s not all. He lets out another laugh, and you want to ask why he laughs but you decide against it. You wait for him to finally say something else, although time feels as if it slows down. “Did you think I wouldn’t find out?”
“Huh? What do you mean?” You sound utterly confused. What the hell is he talking about? How would Suguru know?
“I knew. I asked Satoru what he would’ve done if you had gotten pregnant and he said he would’ve stayed by your side.” He answers, and you let out a sigh of relief knowing that the situation won’t be the big mess that you were expecting. You do still feel guilty about it. “I mean sure… Satoru could’ve lied to me, but I don’t think he would have.”
“Why didn’t you say anything about it?” You’re curious as to why he decided to remain silent about this of all things. It’s a serious matter, which you would’ve expected him to furiously call you to berate you about. But you guess the man that sits across from you isn’t that type of person.
“You lied to me to protect your ass, and I can’t really blame you for it.” He shrugs, and he could’ve left it at that and it would’ve ended up perfectly fine. The conversation could’ve ended there and you would switch the topic and talk about more lighthearted stuff. But Suguru makes sure to add, “Plus Satoru also lied to you so you’re even, I guess.”
“Do you know?” You question, wondering why he brings up the fact that Satoru lied to you as well. You watch his cheeks turn pink when he realizes his words.
“Know what?” He stutters, which says all you need to know. He knows. For how long has he known? He realizes immediately that he’s messed up. He gave himself away.
“For how long have you known?” You immediately ask, and Suguru tries to play dumb, he claims he doesn’t know what you’re talking about, making a fool of himself. You’re clearly mad, but you try to not let it show through your tone. You try to take deep breaths.
“You can say we’re kind of even…” Suguru scratches the back of his head, but that’s not enough. You’re not even because the situation with Ren had nothing to do with him, at least in your eyes. Yes, you lied to him, but it was your business, something that had nothing to do with him.
“Does Shoko know too?” You scoff, and it’s merely a joke, but Suguru bites down his lip before commenting,
“I mean, considering the fact that she’s sleeping with his wife, probably.” Which makes your eyes widen. It’s shocking, but it makes a lot of sense. You’re still speechless. “Satoru told me… A while ago.”
“I guess we’re even then.” You let out a chuckle, but it’s not humorous. You’re clearly… Annoyed. “But I think… I had different plans for us, and so did you. But we should remain as friends.”
“Huh? What do you mean?” He asks, confused why you say that. He knows you’re mad, but what you’re making is a rash decision. “You don’t mean what you’re saying, you’re just upset because–”
“No, I know what I’m saying. Suguru, I lied to you so I guess I shouldn’t be too mad but I am. And I lied to you about Satoru, and… We shouldn’t be together, I feel like we started this off wrong.” You respond, and it almost hurts to say. 
“But we can start over again without lies and–” He begins, and you cut him off.
“Let’s try to give it some time before even thinking about that. I’m not really in the right headspace for a relationship.” You answer truthfully, and he furrows his brows. He doesn’t know why, but that ticks him off.
“I bet you’ll end up choosing Satoru again.” He sounds bitter, and you can’t help but roll your eyes. Of course he says that, he assumes you’re so in love with Satoru that you can’t have a relationship with him. Suguru thinks too mighty of himself. “Explains why you so adamantly ignored my calls, and why you were on vacation with him–”
“I have a son with him, Suguru. Of course I’m going to do shit with him.” You interrupt him, standing up from your seat. He has his arms crossed, looking almost like a pouty child because he isn’t getting his way. He almost reminds you of Satoru. “I told you we should give it time before we even begin to think about it. Don’t make your case worse.”
He keeps silent while you walk away, deciding that you’re right. He isn’t going to make his case worse. 
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“How did it go?” Satoru seems as if he has been waiting by the door for you the entire time. 
“He knew?” You immediately ask, and he nods in response which makes you roll your eyes. “Everyone knows shit except me.”
“I can say the same about Ren.” Satoru argues, which is a great point, but you won’t admit it. You hand him your purse, as if he were your own little butler, and he proceeds to take it to your room.
“Where’s Ren?” You half-yell, and the man shushes you, which earns a weird look from you. There’s no way he actually got Ren to fall asleep… But for what other reason would Satoru shush you?
“He’s asleep.” Satoru informs you when he walks back, and you want to question what kind of sorcery the man is doing to make a boy that hates taking naps, fall asleep. You do appreciate it though, so you won’t complain.
You two awkwardly stand around, not sure what to speak about next since Ren is asleep. There’s something that comes to mind, but you’re not sure how appropriate the question is. Ren is asleep, so there shouldn’t be an issue, however, you don’t want to overstep any boundaries.
You still clear your throat though, “Did you know that Shoko was–”
“I know.” Satoru chuckles. “Right when we got back, Shoko dug her claws into her– Or Sayo did.”
“Were you upset when you found out? I mean, when we first saw each other again you called her love.” You bring up, walking over to the couch to take a seat, and he follows behind. Satoru takes a moment to think, and properly formulate his answer. He sighs before speaking up,
“I guess, for a moment I thought I loved her. I’m very fond of her, and I confused my adoration for her as love. She knew what I was going through, and she was always sweet to me, we could make each other laugh. Overall, we got along.” He explains, and you listen attentively. You’ll do anything to gain a little bit of perspective into his mind. “We just had each other, and that was that. But then you came into my life, and I remembered what love felt like.”
You feel your face get warm, and you look away from him. Maybe Suguru is right– You can’t let him be right. Satoru still committed a lot of bad actions. 
You stay silent and let a minute pass before speaking up again, changing the topic, “It’s not just Ren’s birthday coming up, but also yours. What would you like?”
“I already have everything I could ever want.” Satoru answers, which makes your task slightly more difficult. You’re still going to get him something for his birthday, even if it’s just a pair of socks. “How about Ren? I heard he wants a puppy.”
“He’s not getting one. Nope.” You tell him, and he laughs before nodding in response. You’re not sure he’s gotten the message yet, but you’ll make sure to remind him.
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sourlove · 19 hours
Note
Omg the jock is so cute I was wondering if maybe we could get a scenario thing we're maybe reader and jock are at a diner on a hot summer night just chilling idk how you want to interpret that but I love your writing so far ♥️
TW: YANDERE THEMES BUT NOT REALLY SHOWN. LUCAS IS A GOOD BOY
A/N: I immediately thought of like a small town in the 50s or 60s when I read this lol.
READ LUCAS' HEADCANONS HERE
Thanks for the ask!
The heatwave that settled over the town had everyone abandoning their houses in favor of hanging out at the lake or starting up their barbeques. You, on the other hand, were heading to a date with a certain someone that evening.
"Y/N! Y/N! Over here!"
You had barely even stepped into the diner when you were swept into a bear hug. You didn't even have to guess who it was, by the way your feet completely stopped touching the ground.
"Hi Lucas," you said wearily. The star football player grinned at you, eyes bright from beneath shaggy, golden curls. You snorted and ruffled his hair. "You doofus, didn't I tell you to get a haircut after practice today?"
Lucas pouted. "I wanted to get here before you did. Look, I got us a booth! You said you like booths so I got us one!"
"Yes, I can see that. Thank you, Lucas." You sighed as he dragged you to a seat at the back of the diner, where the crowd was thinner. Lucas squished himself next to you, instead of opposite, rendering the booth pointless. You didn't mind anyway, as you were used to Lucas doing this.
"What can I get you lovebirds today?" the waitress asked, giving the two of you a grin. You smiled back at her. She had always been kind to you and had on more than one occasion, smacked Lucas with a newspaper for trying to makeout with you in the diner. She playfully glared at him and he stuck his tongue out at her, hugging you closer.
"Hey, Donna. Can we just get two milkshakes and some fries?" You asked, ignoring the way Lucas buried his head in your neck.
"Sure thing, hon." Donna walked away to place your order and you patted your boyfriends head gently. Honestly, it was too hot for his shenanigans. You let him stay like that for a while, though. As much as you refused to say it out loud, sometimes you really enjoyed being smothered by Lucas. It was comforting, like a heavy weighted blanket draped on top of you.
Lucas sighed happily as you combed a hand through his curls. "I thought you said you like when my hair gets long? I was growing it out for you."
"I love your hair, short or long, baby," you said. "But not when it gets in your eyes. If you fumble on the field again, I think Coach is gonna get his scissors and hunt you down to cut it himself."
"You love me?" Unfortunately, everything else you just said was obsolete to this boy. "You mean that, don't you?"
"Of course she does," Donna chimed in, holding a tray of your food. "There has to be a reason she would put up with you slobbering all over her."
"Thanks, Donna. Um-there's only one milkshake?" you questioned.
"Yeah, and two straws." She winked at Lucas. "Enjoy!"
Lucas beamed and immediately stuck the straws into the frothy drink, looking at you with such hopeful eyes, you couldn't do anything but sigh and lean forward to drink. You had to admit, the cold drink was just what you needed to stave of some of the heat of the day. Your eyes fluttered close as you savored the sweet taste.
When you opened them, Lucas's big brown eyes stared back at you.
"What is it this time, Lucas?" you asked with a huff.
"You're just so pretty." He smiled sweetly, the big dope. "I like looking at you."
You and you smacked his arm, though it hurt you more than it probably hurt him. "You're such a sap."
"A sap for you, honeybun~"
"I said don't call me that in public!"
"But whyyyy?"
You stuffed fries into his mouth to shut him up, giggling at his puffed out cheeks. He begged you for more and you rolled your eyes but relented. Sometimes saying no to Lucas was like kicking a puppy, there was no logical reason to. You could practically see his tail wagging as he ate greasy diner fries form your hand, licking your fingers clean.
"Let's go home," he whispered softly when all the fries were gone. The look in his eyes was so intense you grew flustered. Lucas grinned and tossed a few bills on the table, pulling you out of the booth.
You called out a hasty goodbye to Donna and she smiled at the both of you from behind the counter. There was something odd about that boy and the way he looked at you. But then again, who was she too stand in the way of young love?
The night hadn't gotten much cooler, but there was a little breeze stirring up the heat. The smell of grilled meat and distant laughter told that people were still enjoying their evening. You would have to swing by to your neighbor's house later. He always saved leftovers from his barbeque for you and Lucas.
Lucas held your hand tightly as usual. He didn't seem to be in a rush like he was on other nights. "What's on your mind?" you asked, swinging your hands back and forth.
"You."
Shocker. You laughed and shook your head in disbelief. "I can't always be on your mind, dummy." He glanced at you in confusion.
"Why not? You're the best thing that ever happened to me!"
You stopped walking and stared at him. He tilted his head, the action making his curls fall into his eyes again. "What's wrong, honeybun?"
The stupid nickname, the shaggy hair, the dumb, sweet smiles. Everything about Lucas that you once thought was annoying, now made you smile about your boyfriend. This was bad.
He yelped when you suddenly dragged him down by his collar to mash your mouths together but soon reciprocated the kiss happily. When you released him, his face was flushed with another stupid grin plastered over it.
"What was that for? Not that I'm complaining!"
"Nothing," you hummed, linking your fingers again. You would have to get the leftovers later, it seemed. You had plans for your boyfriend that night. "Nothing at all, baby~"
A/N: Everyone seems to love Lucas! And I don't blame you, he's the sweetest boy. Thanks for the support! If you enjoyed this, leave a like, comment and reblog. My asks are open though I might not reply to them immediately, I will try to reply to all.
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gojipink · 1 day
Text
white lie
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ஐ ft. kaeya
ஐ summary. trying to hide an injury from him!
ஐ warnings. none, SFW. 1.3k words
•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•
getting home to you and kaeya’s shared apartment took longer than you had wanted; getting healed by barbra after a couple of adventures found you propped against a tree, half-lucid with a bloody gash across your abdomen had really put a kink in your usual schedule.  
you breathe a sigh of relief when you unlock the front door and find that the apartment is still empty, meaning that kaeya was still in his office and hasn't been alerted of your little accident. 
you have never kept anything from kaeya but this? this was different. lately, he’s been having to take on way too much, his desk overflowing with piles upon piles of paperwork while also leading patrol tours throughout the nation. every night he comes home utterly exhausted, barely having enough energy to finish his dinner and give you a chaste kiss before he retires to bed.
if he catches wind of your injury, he'll be sure to go insane with worry and put himself on the backburner in order to dote on you, which you deem completely unnecessary. barbra’s already given you the all clear, just have to take it easy for the next few days and clean your wounds daily and you should be healed up soon enough. besides, you’re strong enough to take care of yourself, there’s no reason for you to burden kaeya with something as insignificant as a minor injury. 
you tried to act as normal as you could. tried to move around the kitchen preparing dinner for the two of you with as much stability as you could muster. and once kaeya came home, eyes slightly wide and breathing deeply like he was hiding the fact he just ran home, you put on your best smile for him. 
“welcome home, love! you made it just in time for dinner,” you beam at him, settling into your usual seat at the table.
he looks around the apartment for a moment before his clear eye finds its way back to you, analyzing your seemingly unharmed figure. he gives you a tight smile while he makes his way into the kitchen to wash up, “you made dinner?” he asks, tone slightly devoid of his usual pep but you chalk it up to him being tired. 
“mhm, just something quick. hurry, come join me,” you smile at him. 
after a moment, kaeya sits in his chair across from you. watchful eyes observing your figure as you begin to eat, his heart twisting uncomfortably as his mind clouds with turmoil. 
kaeya studies you for a moment more before speaking up, “heard you required a healer today, what’s going on with that?” 
you tense at his question, eyes wide and staring down at your food, mind racing to find a convincing excuse. 
“i, um,” you swallow thickly before looking up to meet his eyes, his expression unreadable, “i was feeling a little sore from these past few days so i thought i could just pop in and see barbra. you know, just get a little once-over is all.” 
kaeya’s uncovered eye flash with something indecipherable. confusion? hurt? anger? though, it wouldn't really make sense for him to feel any of these emotions at all, not unless-
“so, you're going with that story, hm?” he sighs out, letting his spoon clink loudly against the side of the bowl as he sits back in the chair with his arms crossed, studying you with icy eyes. 
“i…well, yes, i-” you try to come up with something quickly before he interrupts with a humorless chuckle, 
“can’t say i’m not hurt by your lie, angel.” he says quietly with a sad smile while looking at you with dejected eyes. 
you stare at him, shocked by his words, “kaeya, im not-”
“jean said that you were covered in blood. barbra told her everything, which she then told me before i left work. said you were, and i quote, ‘barely conscious enough to say what happened’.” he said, his tone of voice flat and empty, “but apparently, and this is the part that puzzles me most, it was specifically requested that this incident was to be kept from me.”
“i can explain,” you rush out, quickly moving to the chair next to him, ignoring the sharp twinge of pain that shoots across your abdomen, too desperate to save him from any misunderstanding he’s conjured in his mind.
“kaeya, i promise,” you reach over to slide your hand into his, your heart breaks at the sound of his shuddering inhale, his thumb roughly rubbing the back of your hands trying to mask the shakiness in his fingers, “i’m alright. i’m here. it sounds so much worse than it really is and the only reason i didnt tell you-”
“that's alright, my love,” he interjects looking up at you with a dim smile, “i get it, i'm glad you’re alright,” he whispers as he pulls his hand out of your grasp to stand up and clear off the dining room table.
your eyes helplessly follow his movements, “wh-get what, kae-”
“you must be tired, hm? had quite the day, princess,” his usual easygoing tone forced back into his voice, “ill clean up, you go wash up first let me know if you want help. i'll call barbra or jean if you prefer it.”
you break from your dumbfounded state as you chase after him in the kitchen. arms wrapping around his torso tightly, refusing to let him pull away as he stands in front of the sink bracing his hands against the counter.
“i know you're mad at me,” you start gently, cheek pressed snuggly against his back, your hands pressed against his chest feeling the heavy beat of his stinging heart, “but i’m so sorry, my love. i never wanted to cause you any kind of distress. you have been so overworked, so stressed out, i just didn't want to pile it on.” 
he harshly exhales through his nose as his hands slowly make their way towards yours, gently prying them loose so that he can turn in your iron hold. once he faces you, his fingers come up to brush over your cheek. 
“im not upset with you,” he whispers, his thumb lightly tracing your cheekbone, “i mean, i'm upset, but i'm not mad at you. could never be mad at you, angel.” 
you frown at his dejected expression and tone while you lean into his touch, “i just didn’t want to burden you with it, kae. it really sounds worse than it actually is, i swear. nothing bad happened, i was fixed up really quick! the cut was so much smaller than what the healers thought, it just looked way worse because i was also splattered with monster blood as well,” you hastily explained all in one breath. 
he worriedly chews on his bottom lip as he absorbs your words,  “what about how you were barely conscious-”
“i was just exhausted after the fight, kae,” you clarify, “admittedly it was a tough fight but i was back up on my feet in no time after seeing the healers.” 
he analyzes you for a moment before leaning forward to press his forehead against yours, “tell me everything,” he whispers, “good, bad, mundane or not. i don't care, just don't shut me out, please. you have no idea what-” he stops himself to exhale a heavy breath, “i didn't know what to think. regardless, it doesn't matter how busy i am, how stressed out i am, i want to know everything that happens with you. you are my number one priority, not some group of recruits i just met yesterday. you understand that, right?” 
you nod your head while still pressed against his, “i know, im sorry,” you whisper. 
kaeya pulls back slightly before cupping your cheeks to drag you into a sweet and comforting kiss. 
after a few more tender kisses, kaeya’s lips lift into his usual playful smile, “c’mon, pretty, you must be sore, hm? think we both need a relaxing bath.”
you beam up at him at his suggestion, your bright smile stunning him for a moment as his heart skips in his chest and his stomach erupts into butterflies. quickly, he turns away to lead you both to the bathroom as your giggles follow closely behind him hinting that you've caught sight of his blushing cheeks.
•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•
masterlist
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the-fictional-truth · 17 hours
Text
Still thinking about Dead Boy Detectives and how wonderfully Edwin, his journey, and the confession was handled in that show.
Charles never hesitating to reassure Edwin, to tell him he never had any reason to doubt their friendship, the “I can’t say I’m in love with you the same way, but there’s no one else I’d go to hell for and we have forever to figure it out.”
And don’t even get me started about Edwin in hell with Simon, getting that closure for himself and even trying to bring Simon with him despite everything. (And despair telling him that they’re friends now? God I can’t wait to see what that means for future seasons)
I love this show so much and desperately want more episodes like… now.
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j3llyd0nut · 2 days
Text
Playground Love
ೀ older!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader
Tags: hurt/comfort, age gap (unspecified but reader is an adult), a lot of self doubt, talks about mommy and daddy issues, pet names (angel, princess, sweetheart).
W/C: 1.0k
A/N: studying? who is that? Anyways, this was supposed to be a cute ‘sitting on his lap would fix me’ but I got hit by existential crisis at 2am so angst.
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"Wow, dating an older guy? That's so sophisticated!"
“Are you sure about this? Don’t you think there’s a reason why no one his age is dating him?”
"You get to date someone older? That's not fair! All I get are immature guys my age."
"Darling, I know you're an adult now, but dating someone significantly older... it just worries me. Are you sure you're on the same page?"
I love him.
At every reaction, you find yourself repeating the same phrase in your mind. It was a simple truth that anchored you amidst the swirl of opinions and doubts. Every concern, every envy—you faced them all with the same unwavering declaration.
But do you really love him?
The question lingered like a shadow, casting doubt on the certainty you had clung to so desperately. You couldn't shake the nagging feeling that perhaps you were merely caught up in the allure of dating someone older, mistaking infatuation for love. Or was it that you longed for attention from an older guy who could fill the void your absent father left?
You craved the paternal presence you had been denied, and in him, you found echoes of the guidance and affection you had longed for. 
"Dating someone older? Isn't that a bit... strange?"
"Why? Age is just a number, right?"
"Yeah, but... do you really think you're at the same stage in life?"
Oh, how naively optimistic you were. 
Perhaps you have been too quick to dismiss your loved one’s concerns, too eager to embrace the illusion of love in the arms of someone—his arms—who offered the fleeting promise of stability and security. 
“But he makes me feel loved and safe,”
“Does he?”
Was your love truly built to withstand the test of time, or was it merely a fleeting illusion, destined to crumble beneath the weight of your differences?
“Darling, can we talk for a moment?”
“Sure, Ma. What’s on your mind?”
"Well, I couldn't help but notice... you seem quite taken with this new guy you're seeing."
"Oh, you mean Leon? Yeah, we've been spending some time together."
"He's... older, isn't he?"
"Um, yeah, he is."
"I see... darling, I just want to make sure you're being careful. Dating someone older can bring its own set of challenges."
"I know, Ma. But he's different. He understands me in a way no one else does."
"I'm sure he does, dear…but promise me you'll take things slow and really get to know him before things get too serious."
"I promise, Mama.”
You've broken many promises with your mama, but why did this one hurt? Is it because you partially blame her for shaping you the way you are? Is it because she married your father? Maybe she would have lived a happier life if it weren't for him, if only.
But you thanked her, both her and him, for the lesson learned, for the wisdom imparted, for the love that had always been there, and for helping you recognise the kind of partner to avoid. 
You stood before the polished wooden door of Leon’s home office, your hand hovering in uncertainty over the ornate doorknob. Each second felt like an eternity as you battled with the torrent of doubts and fears that raged within you. 
You needed him, wanted him to hold you, and tell you that everything would be fine.
But what if he couldn’t understand your doubts? What if your confession shattered the fragile illusion of your love?
With a steady breath, you pushed aside your apprehensions and grasped the doorknob, steeling yourself for the conversation that lay ahead.
“What’s up, sweetheart?” His voice, gruff yet soft and reassuring, always managed to send shivers down your spine, freezing you in place. You couldn’t find the words to speak, and your throat suddenly dried.
Sensing your hesitation, he beckoned you closer with a gentle smile. You could see the experiences he went through, the complexities of adulthood etched into the lines that creased his weathered face.
“Come here, angel. Sit on my lap while I work.”
You obeyed, crossing the threshold into his office, your feet padding on the wooden floor as you made your way to him. Settling onto his lap, your linen dress pooled around you, the fabric soft against your skin. His arms encircled your waist, pulling you close, his rough touch sent warmth flooding through your veins.
You inhaled his scent, a mixture of citrus and wood, with a hint of something familiar: whisky. You thought he quit. Ready to question him, you opened your mouth, but he stopped you before you could question him.
“Don’t worry your pretty head, princess. I only drank a glass, I promised. I’m just a bit stressed.” 
“Mm, okay,” you replied, pushing aside your concerns for the moment as you melted into the warmth of his embrace.
You found solace in the familiar embrace of Leon's arms, the weight of your doubts momentarily forgotten as you leaned into his chest, burying your face against him. A few of his buttons were undone, allowing the soft hairs on his chest to brush against your face. 
"Is everything alright, angel?" Leon's voice, soft and concerned, pulled you back to the present moment.
"Yeah, everything's fine. I just want to stay like this, with you," you murmured, the words slipping out before you could second-guess yourself.
His arms tightened around you, drawing you closer, as if he could sense the hesitation in your voice. "Me too, princess. Me too," his stubble pricked your forehead as he murmured against them.
Oh, how weak you were. His voice and touch alone melted you into a puddle, and all your problems seemed to vanish in his embrace. Your mama wouldn’t be happy with how you turned out; she wished that you would never let a man make you weak like she was.
Closing your eyes, you allowed yourself to sink deeper into his embrace, letting go of the weight of your doubts and worries. In this moment, all that mattered was the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against yours.
Perhaps one day, when the time was right, you would find the courage to open up to him about your inner struggles. Until then, you cherished this moment, clawing in the warmth of his love.
Pressing a tender kiss to your forehead, Leon whispered softly, "I love you, angel.”
“I love you, too, Leon, always,” you replied. The words were a vow of unwavering devotion and love…was it really?
All women become like their mothers. That is their tragedy. No man does, and that is his.       
- Oscar Wilde
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ysrjune · 1 day
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omgomg what abt like reader and sam monroe are really good friends and he like has a thing for her in high dchool but she moves away n they run into eachother in the future AND HE LOOKS LIKE ANAKIN NOW.
(shut the fuck up this is so cute but like sad to me. im gonna sob 💔) also im literally listening to 'into you' by ariana grande, so that's why that's the title, ahaha 😈
Into You ✦
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Sam had been a really good friend of yours since sophomore year. You didn't hang out with the same people at all, though. Sam hung out with a couple of druggies and ‘freaks’ while you were paired with ‘normal’ people.
You became friends with Sam because you had the same p.e class with him. He was often left alone and in the corner after walking 2 daily laps. Some guys even made fun of him, but Sam would always ignore them. Even your own girlfriends would make fun of him! You always felt bad for that poor boy.
So, one day you left your friends after walking 2 laps and went to the corner that Sam was always at. He didn't notice you at first, but once he did, he looked nervous. Why was a girl going up to him? The worse scenarios were going through his head. Maybe someone dared you to do that thing were you go up to a random kid and ask them out and if they say yes, you laugh and explain it was a dare.
When you finally stood in front of him, he glanced up anxiously and looked back down, waiting for you to just get it over with. “Hi, Sam.” You sweetly greeted with that charming smile of yours. He only nodded his head to your greet.
“Look, I know you're probably scared im gonna say or do something mean, but please trust me when I say I wanna be your friend.” and sat next to him. He was stunned at what you had said. You were so pretty and had a bunch of friends. Why do you wanna be his?
Sam messed with the stud inside his lip, making his labret move from the outside. “Just cause you feel bad doesn't mean you have to be my friend.” He softly spoke. Yeah, that was the big part of it, but you also believed everyone should have a friend.
It's not like Sam was completely friendless, but he was left out in a lot of his classes that his friends weren't in, and you wanted to change that. “Sam, I wanna be your friend because I think there's more to you than what people think.” He finally looked at you but still kept an emotionless expression. “Yeah, okay.”
And from then on, you bothered him every simple day during pe. You made him walk with you, run the miles with you, literally participate im everything in that class. He acted annoyed at first (which really, he loved the attention), but as time went by, he came around.
Sometimes, you'd ditch your friends to go inside the hallways or classrooms to spend lunch with Sam. You two became so close that he let you meet his mom, dad, step-dad, and little brothers.. and boy, did they love you.
The point has been made. You're close friends. Junior year was the year his biological dad died, but you helped him through it all. Especially with his drug problem. Since the last week of sophomore year, he's had a crush on you. At first, he tried to brush it off, telling himself that it's never gonna happen and to just keep you as a friend. You were the only one who genuinely cared anyway.
Sam had dated some girl named Alyssa for a while, which you hated. She was such a dirty hoe.. there were rumors that she kissed Sam's dad and that she told Josh to lie about never having sex with her, but come on, no one really believes that.
You tried to be happy for Sam, and you were for a little bit until Alyssa had a cow over you being too close with Sam. As a girl who's experienced the same, you understood and stopped talking to him for a while. Only giving him smiles and waves when you'd see him around.
What you didn't know is that when you stopped talking to him, he was really mad at Alyssa. “Alyssa, I love you, but you have to understand that she's the only one who really cared for me before you. I can't just stop talking to her like that. If I never met her, I'd probably would have already been dead because of how fucked up on drugs I was.” But she clearly didn't care.
She was so damn jealous that she wasn't the one who helped him through all that. Not only was she mad over that, but she was upset that you were prettier. Inside and out. She was so toxic with Sam, and everyone knew. His friends told him to just break up with her, but he didn’t want to. That poor boy was too scared.
At the end of 11th grade, he finally broke up with her, though, even though it was quick. All he said was that he was unhappy, and she used him for attention and that it was over. She didn't get a say in it because he walked away right after. And who did he immediately go to? You. He craved you so bad.
You had a boyfriend now, and he was so pissed. That should have been him. He was just too scared to say anything. Always seeing you hugging and kissing all over him was gut-wrenching. That whole breakup was right when the bell rang after school, so he planned to go to his house to freshen up and talk to you.
He knocked on the door around 6 in the afternoon just in case you were eating dinner at 4-5. Your mom opened the door, greeting him with a big hug since she hasnt seen him in so long. Let's just say things were awkward at first between you two at first, but after explaining everything, it was fine.
You gushed to him about Jesus, your boyfriend. Talking about how sweet and handsome he is.. Sam acted happy for your sake, but ooh, he was so jealous.
Stuff went back to normal, and you two became close again really quick. Sam met Jesus, and it went pretty well. Even if Sam was jealous/mad, he saw that Jesus really liked you and seemed like a good guy. What relieved him even more was that Jesus didn't mind your friendship.
“Oh, yeah. I had a homie who was on drugs and stuff. He didn't have anyone to help him out like that, so it's chill that you helped him out like that. I'd never get mad over him wanting to hang out, you know?” Your boyfriend explained one time when he was over.
You lasted with Jesus for a couple of months until the last few weeks of school because you were going to an out of state college. Sam didn't know that was the reason, though. He just saw it as a chance to finally confess. You two were sitting in an empty classroom together at lunch.
“Sam, we need to talk.” You speak softly. “We are talking.” He replies, eating a chip. “No, like. I have something serious to tell you.” His heart dropped. Were you gonna drop him? Did he do something wrong?
“What is it..” You friend replies with an anxious look plastered on his face. “I'm moving after graduation. Like, to an out of state college.” One part of Sam was happy, and the other was devastated. He finally got you back, and now you're leaving?
“Oh, um,” He looked to the floor. “That's great. Uh—not in the sense that, like, I want you to leave, but, you know. It's great that you have this opportunity.” He tried his best not to cry but failed. You two spent the whole time crying to each other, saying how much you'll miss each other.
But you'll keep in touch.. right?
You and Sam were bawling by the end of it. He was probably even sadder because it's not like he can tell you he likes.. no. Loves you, because what's the point?
He went along with you to the air port, saying goodbye. Hugging you hard and placing a kiss on your head. “Have a good time, okay? Have fun.” Sam says, eyes all red and droopy.
You nod, kissing his cheek and leaving a faint mark. Before he knew it, you were on that plane and gone. You swore that you were gonna call and visit for the holidays, but guess what! You didn't.
Spring break? No. Thanksgiving? Christmas? His birthday? Nope. He tried calling one time, but the number was out of service. That was the last straw. He was so mad at you.
He got over it after a year or so, too. He pushed himself to be more social and actually go out. His appearance changed, too. No more eyeliner or dressing in dark clothing. He even dyed his hair brown.
He kinda forgot about you since even after your four years at college were up, you stayed. You forgot about him too. Your new friends kept you busy all the time, along with your job.
Your look didn't change as drastically as Sam's. Your style of clothing changed a little, and so did your attitude. Back then, you were such a goody two shoes. Now, you go out amd party and break the rules more often. Nothing totally illegal, but you get it.
You still talked to your parents every night. They asked so many times to come visit you because they're getting old (a little dramatic, but it was still true) so you finally said yes after 6 years of not seeing them.
Your cousin had picked you up from the airport, thrilled to see you. She was chatting it up and telling you about everything that has been going on since you left. Then it hit you. Sam Monroe, that emo boy you loved so much probably still lived here. Your cousin knew him back then, too, so maybe she knows what hes been up to.
“Oh, girl. He's like, a totally different person. Dyed his hair, became more talkative.. like, literally. A bunch of girls from high school like him cause they realized how handsome he is, I guess.” She keeps babbling on about him to you. He changed a lot, it seems. But there was no way you were gonna try and go look for him. You knew he was more than likely mad at you for not calling and visiting.
Your parents had invited a bunch of people over for a welcome home party. They were all in the backyard, though. So, you had time to get ready. Sam was left in your mind while you showered and got ready. How different could he really look?
After you get ready, you make your way to the backyard, greeting aunts and uncles, cousins, and family friends, but most importantly, your parents. You were smothered by your mom's kisses and practically crushed by your dads hugs. They missed their little girl.
You drank with your cousins and played party games while the older adults watched and laughed at you, losing almost every round, causing you to face the penalty and take a shot.
By the end of the night, you were so drunk. No memory of what happened that night when you woke up in the morning. Confused in your old room, you groan and whine. A headache was bothering you, and you felt super weak, but you remembered that your dad wanted you to go to the hardware store with him to pick up a few tools.
You knew he would offer to just let you stay and rest, but you haven't seen him in so long and wanted to spend as much time with him as you could. With another groan, you force yourself to get up and shower. You didn't even bother to put on makeup or do your hair.. not even to wear a cute outfit.
Sweats with a baggy t-shirt and a pair of slippers was your choice. Your mom gave you something quick to eat before leaving with dad. The store was close by, so the ride there wasn't too long. Dad asked about everything you did over where you live.
Ex boyfriends, the classes you took, and a lot of other things were talked about, even when you got off the car and entered the store. You talked his ear off while he was looking through the aisles. One thing about dad was that he's never at the hardware store just for what he actually needs.
Normally, he'd tell you to shut up with all your talking because, well.. you're a chatterbox. but this was an exception since he hasn't seen you for a long time. Half an hour passed by before he asked you to go get something for him in aisle 12.
You looked and looked around that aisle for what seemed like forever trying to find a specific tool dad asked for. A groan escapes your throat, and before you know it, you are asked a question by a worker.
“Need any help, ma’am?” His voice was soft and calm. You turned around to see a very tall, muscular man with tanned skin, brown hair, and piercing blue eyes. He was very handsome. So handsome that he left you speechless, and it was sort of weirding him out.
“Ma’am.” He repeated himself, looking slightly uncomfortable. You knock out of your trance and visibly cringed at yourself. “Sorry, um. Yes, I need help.” You respond with a nervous tone. “Yeah? Okay, what do we need?”
“A shovel.” You reply, trying to avoid eye contact. The man laughed a little, shaking his head. “Well, this definitely isn't the aisle where you'll be finding those.” Great, now you look stupid. Did dad send you to the wrong one on accident? Who knows. You just felt really stupid.
“Come on, n/n, I'll show you.” He says and starts walking away. It took you a couple of seconds to realize that he had just called you your nickname. What the fuck? How does he know that? Wait.
No, there's no way. This guy looks nothing like the one you had in mind. “Here ya are.” He interrupts your thoughts. “Oh, thank you,” You squint to look at his name tag. It was him. “Sam.”
“Did it really take you that long to realize?” He snickered and set his hands on his hips. “But I guess I can't blame you, though, huh? I look nothing like I did when you left.” Of course, he had to add that last part. Now you were sure he was pissed about what happened.
“Yeah..” was all you replied while literally checking him out. he didn't mind it. He knew he was handsome. His confidence grew a lot while you were away. “So, anyway. I'd recommend this one.” He quickly changed the topic.
He talked to you for a little while in that same spot. About why you left and why you didn't call back—but he was so mature about it. He wasn't angry or sad.. he was just asking like if it was normal. He even walked you back to where your dad was at, and said hi.
It made you smile to hear him ask for your new number. “Just so you know, I'm taking you out tonight, and you can't say no. Pick you up at 8.” He smiles at you. You shake your head and smile again. “Okay, see you then.”
errrm part 2 when 🤔
tags, @heartsforanakin @sockiess @radiantvader @anakinstwinklebunny @lunalitva @lvrfay3 🎀
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songsbygumi · 2 days
Text
Don’t sit down ‘cause I moved your chair
| Megumi x reader
Summary- "Expect the unexpected; Kugisaki and Panda are on a mission to get Megumi and you together. The two times, Nobara and Panda set you two up, and the one time they didn't need to do it."
Warnings - reader use a skirt, use of Y/N one time, poor english, one mention of the pronoun her I think its just once I can change it tho.
A/N- This is part of the universe of 'Suck It and See' inspired by Arctic Monkeys' album and Alex Turner's 'Submarine' EP.
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Panda didn’t mean to snoop on Maki. I mean, come on, he was just chilling in the classroom waiting for the class to start when Maki barged in, shouting something like, “At this point, we should lock her with Fushiguro in a closet and hope she makes a move.” It took Panda less than five seconds to figure out that the 'her' Maki was talking about was you. He watched Maki leave the room, still clueless about his presence, chatting away with who he thought was Yuta on the phone.
Panda didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but now that he knows, he has to tell Kugisaki, right?
“I think Y/n likes Fushiguro,” Kugisaki eyes widening as she connected the dots in her head. Everything suddenly made sense: how you get all flustered around him, how you always save him the last juice he loves at breakfast and give it to Inumaki to put it in Fushiguro's usual spot, how your face slightly drops when he mentions the date he had with the girl from the coffee shop, your eyes going soft when he talks, and Maki always trying to pair you two up for training. “I think they'd be a great match,” Panda adds, and they both grinned.
I
You have been waiting for an hour now outside the cinema. Fantastic Beasts is about to start, and Panda isn’t responding to his phone. You were supposed to meet here after spending your day at the shopping center.
“Hey Panda, I am at the entrance. The movie starts in fifteen minutes; you should hurry.” This is the fifth voice message you have left him. With a sigh, you turn your head to the street to see if you can catch him making his way to the theater, and that’s when you feel a hand on your shoulder.
“Hey,” you froze. It couldn’t be. You turned to face him. “Hi,” you blurted out, realizing Megumi Fushiguro stood before you, looking as gorgeous as always, his school uniform replaced by jeans and a hoodie. “Panda told me to let you know he couldn’t make it, but we can still go in if you want,” he offered.
You nodded following him inside, feeling like a little kid. “Ye...ah, cool, fuck Panda” you muttered behind him.
Did Panda invite him without telling you? Does Panda know about you liking him? You couldn’t say for sure.
“I didn’t know you were into Harry Potter,” he remarked, waiting for you. “Yeah... I’m kinda obsessed,” you admitted, blushing a bit, earning a chuckle from Megumi. “I'm kinda obsessed too,” he revealed, grabbing the tickets. You smiled, appreciating his easygoing vibe.
“I’m paying you, just let me know how much I owe you,” you say as the employee hands him the tickets.
“Don’t worry, Gojo sensei gave me enough to buy this whole place,” he says, brushing it off. “Do you want something to eat?”
“Yeah, uhm sure,” you said, swallowing hard, gathering the courage to keep talking.
“You like Harry Potter too, movies or books?” you wonder, not daring to look at his eyes.
His smile made your heart skip a beat. “Are you kidding? Books, of course,” he replied, and you couldn’t help but smile proudly. “Which book is your favorite?”
After a moment of thinking it, he responded, “Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix.”
“Incorrect” you said playfully, grabbing the popcorn and moving away. “What do you mean incorrect?” he asked, looking amused. “Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban is right there” you argued, making him laugh.
You held the popcorn a bit too tightly, struggling to focus on the movie. You knew you were doing a bad job because by the end of it, you couldn’t remember a single thing besides Megumi's profile in the light.
As you walked back to school, chatting and feeling more comfortable, you found yourself agreeing with every single opinion of Megumi, encourage him to keep talking about it just because you didn’t have a single clue about what happened; you’ll have to see it again.
Later in your bed, you can’t help but think that maybe talking to Megumi Fushiguro wouldn’t be as difficult as you thought. Maybe you should keep doing it because talking with him was better than just staring at him from afar.
II
"Maybe you two should go together," Kugisaki suggested, smiling at her idea. Maki raised an eyebrow as she looked at you “It’s fine,” you said aloud. “I mean, yeah, I wouldn’t mind, of course, if you want, Fushiguro?”
Panda managed to hide a satisfied smile from you, but Maki's suspicious look caught him. “Sure thing, I’m down for it. It'd be nice not to deal with a crybaby while hunting for books." he remarked mockingly. “I’m not a cry baby!” Kugisaki protested, and you chuckled at the argument unfolding in front of you.
The library turned out to be smaller than expected, but your eyes lit up at the sight of shelves filled to the brim with books. The soft lighting and the background music of an Arctic Monkeys song made the atmosphere cozy; you could move here in a heartbeat.
“You weren’t lying when you said it was pretty,” you commented, turning to see Megumi standing casually, hands in his pockets, shrugging with a smile. He had a smile that could melt hearts. God, someone needs to make him stop smiling like that at you; he’ll kill you one of these days.
“You haven’t seen the best part” he said, taking your hand and leading you upstairs, making your heart race.
The second floor was packed with even more books, stacked everywhere, and inviting chairs that looked perfect for long reading sessions. It was like stepping into a book lover's dream. “This is amazing,” you whispered, caught up in the moment. Megumi wore a proud smile, happy to share this hidden gem with someone who appreciated it as much as he did. He kept holding your hand for a moment longer, feeling a warmth spread in his chest, before letting go, leaving the pleasant sensation behind.
“Oh my god, look at this Pride and Prejudice edition,” you said, admiring the gold engravings on the cover. “Oh, is that Heartstoppers?” you exclaimed, passing the book you previously held to Megumi.
"If you asked Kugisaki or Panda, they’d say they had never seen Fushiguro smile so much before. He was admiring you from behind, helping you hold the books you picked and reaching the higher manga shelves without complaining. "Looks like it’s going well.” Panda said a bit too loudly, breaking the calm atmosphere. Fushiguro's head turned, and they held the books they were 'reading' higher to cover their faces. “Shut up,” Kugisaki scolded him.
You didn’t notice, too busy looking at all the books, but seriously, did they think Fushiguro Megumi was that stupid to not notice Panda? Whatever they were planning, he will make them spill it, but for now, he had to hold your books.
“Look, that’s one of my favorites,” he pointed with his head at The Song of Achilles, getting into your little bubble again. You took it without questioning him or the book, adding it to the pile.
III
You’ve been craving Matcha for a week now, and you’ve been begging Maki to accompany you to the coffee shop for days. and still every time she answers with "Not all of us are first-grade sorcerers, and yet you still need to practice for the exchange event, which is literally tomorrow."
She’s been relentless; dragging you out for early morning runs at five in the morning so you can practice your hand-to-hand combat skills before seven, insisting, “Your curse technique outperforms at long distance, but what if they get up close? You need to be ready.”
Despite your intense training, all you wanted was a relaxed afternoon sipping on a cold Matcha. Yuta would have easily convinced Maki, you thought, missing your best friend dearly.
“What’s with the long face?” Kugisaki interjected, sitting next to you on the benches, watching Maki kick Panda's butt. “Nobody wants to get Matcha with me,” you pouted. Kugisaki’s brain starts working, but before she can offer to go with you, a male voice interrupts, “I'll go with you,” Fushiguro beats her to it.
"Really? You don't have to," you replied.
“Nonsense, we're friends, right? I enjoy spending time with you; you're better company than all these clowns,” he says, and you barely caught the rest after "friends."
Okay, that hurt a little. Your mind raced with a flurry of thoughts as you studied Megumi's expression. Of course, he doesn’t see you as more than a friend; he's so cool, and you're... well, just you. Why is he staring? Why is no one talking? Oh yeah, right, “Sorry, yes, we are. So, see you at five at the entrance?” you blurted out, snatching your backpack filled with clothes and some of Maki's weapons before rushing off, "Bye."
...
“What if I don’t go?” you contemplated twenty minutes before your scheduled friends date with Fushiguro.
“He didn’t do anything wrong. How is he supposed to know you want more than friendship?” Maki questioned, resting on your bed.
"Whose side are you on?" you retorted.
"Yours, but let's be real, you're being a tad irrational. Slip on the blue skirt and just go."
Megumi Fushiguro wasn't quite sure why he arrived early, but he felt an inexplicable urge to see you sooner; waiting longer was out of the question. And it was worth it, seeing you in that blue mini skirt and oversized sweater, a shy smile gracing your face as you spotted him. You looked even cuter than usual, he considered.
“Ready?" he questioned.
"Yeah, let's go," you affirmed, beginning to walk alongside him towards the coffee shop.
The café bustled with activity; it seemed like everyone had the same Matcha cravings as you did. Navigating through the crowd to reach the cashier proved challenging, but you preferred the subtle movements over pushing people or raising your voice to get through.
You were focus on not inconveniencing anyone when two hands settled comfortably on your waist, guiding you forward and providing a shield against the bustling bodies.
You held your breath; even through the layers of your sweater, you could feel the warmth emanating from Megumi’s hands. Finally reaching the cashier, he removed one hand, leaving the other on your lower back. "Hey there, what can I get you?" the cashier's words snap you back to reality.
“Uhm...” damn it, did you forget how to talk?
"One Matcha latte and one black coffee to go, please" Megumi says watching you struggling.
"Sure thing, regular milk?" you shook your head in disagreement. "Almond milk, please," you requested. The cashier nodded, and before Megumi could reach his wallet, you’ve already paid.
“That’s not fair,” he complains; you had to get your eyes checked because you thought you saw him pout.
“It’s fine, don’t worry; you always pay” you reassured him, moving towards the other end of the counter, Megumi's hand still lingering on your back.
"Hey, Megumi," a girl called out from the opposite side of the counter. She was strikingly pretty, flashing a wide smile at Megumi, her attention fully captivated by him until she noticed you a moment later. "Oh, sorry, hi," she acknowledged you, then shifted her gaze back to Megumi, noting his proximity to you, and her smile faltered slightly.
"Hey, Katsuki" he greeted back.
"You haven’t been around lately as usual" Katsuki remarked.
“Yeah, been busy with school stuff," he explained, his free hand casually brushing his neck.
"You haven’t replied to my texts either" you felt like an intruder in a conversation you shouldn’t be in.
“Sorry, it has been crazy lately,” he apologizes. Another employee calls for your names, and you swiftly grabbed your drinks, offering him his coffee.
"I'll wait outside if you need a moment," you informed him.
"No, it’s fine," he says to you, moving his hand to find yours. "Sorry, Katsuki, I swear I’ll text you back tonight. Take care," he says, guiding you through the crowd.
Outside the café, silence lingered for a moment. "A bit overwhelming with the crowd for you, huh? Feeling overstimulated?" he teases, smiling, to which you nodded. "Let’s go, I know a spot you'll love." He took your hand again, and a surge of electricity seemed to buzz between your palms. If he felt it, he didn’t mention it.
It had been week’s full of mixed emotions; you had countless questions swirling in your mind, but for now, you chose to give in the comforting and welcoming presence of Megumi Fushiguro.
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aajjks · 12 hours
Text
Gazelle (m)
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synopsis. You’re his, only his beautiful gazelle.
pairing. gojo x fem!reader
warnings. MDNÏ. yändêrê thèmès, mátúrê ëxplïcït thèmès, ünprôtèctèd sèx, ëxplïcït sèx, scènt kïnk, hè’s sö nèèdy, kïndá sübmïssïvè gôjô, lôts óf kïssïng, präïsè kïnk, röugh fückïng, márkïng, pösèssïvè!göjö, prôfânïty, yándèrè gôjô
note. I could’ve done this so much better but…. I’m still a rookie when it comes to writing smut… hehe… also gojo loves to call you his gazelle… ifykyk… 👁️💌 ENJOY!
Gif not mine I found this on Pinterest so cr to owner.
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It’s absolutely embarrassing how needy he gets around you.
Satoru Gojo is helpless around you, his beautiful and dazzling girlfriend, Y/N.
One second around you and he feels his mind shut down, his heart pumping loud so hard that he’s convinced you’ve noticed the sound of his heartbeat.
One second around you and all he can think about is fucking you so hard that the only name you remember is his.
He is a possessive guy, and you are unfairly gorgeous.
Gojo is territorial, he knows it’s toxic but you’re too precious to him, so he tries his best to make sure you stay with him, and only him.
People are disgusting, oh he knows, especially men.
Men are predators, you are like the most beautiful gazelle, Gojo is a man after all, he knows what goes into their [his] sick brain whenever you’re around.
You’re the most valuable person in Saturo’s life.
He can’t loose you.
So he just has to keep you happy, by any means necessary.
But, there’s this one way that he loves.
Pleasing you through sex.
He can’t help but pound into your heat like a desperate man, fuck, you feel so good that his mind feels numb, only the thoughts of you surrounding his brain.
“F-Fuck, ‘toru!” You yelp,
Gojo watches your beautiful E/C eyes, your lashes flutter, your face is scrunched as your bite your lower lip, your hands feel so hot around his back, “B-Baby harder!” He moans, too lost in his moment.
God you’re so beautiful like this.
“H-Harder, princess, please dig them in deeper!” He crashes his lips into yours, swallowing your breaths as he dives deeper into your core, the pressure makes your eyes roll back from the sensation,
Your nails are scratching his back so hard, the burn feels orgasming to him, he bites your lip hard, yet gentle and it spurs you on further,
Making Gojo whimper when you clench around him so tightly.
“F-Fuck princess! C-Can’t move..” he breaks the kiss, your eyes are now wide open as you look into your boyfriend’s wild cold coloured eyes.
“F-Fuck love you so much!”
“Please help me baby.. please..” Satoru sounds pathetic right now, be he doesn’t care, peppering kisses all over your tear stained face as you smile sweetly at him.
“‘m close turo.. so fuckin’ close!” How can you sound so cute at a moment like this, your tongue is lulling out of your mouth, your body feels so soft beneath his running palms all over your skin.
You’re a piece of art, so beautiful that it drives him insane.
“M-Me too baby, fuck, gonna cum together yeah?” His heart feels crazy, you nod, “gotta release me a little baby please..” he groans.
You feel so hot, he feels so hot.
He pushes your body deeper into the mattress, you don’t object as he buries his face into your neck, his breath chilling over your sweaty neck.
“So good, S-Satoru…” you praise your boyfriend, he whined into your embrace, you know how to get him so needy, that’s why he’s so in love with you.
You’re his everything.
He licks over your sensitive skin, grazing his teeth, he bites softly.
“Yn… gonna cum!” He’s almost about to cry, you inhale a deep breath, trying your best to loosen up a little around his length.
“D-Do it toru… let it go!” You kiss his cheeks, his breath is trembling as he whined again and again into your neck.
“You’re so… fuck.. you’re so good to me.” He loves you so much, Gojo loves you so much, you’re his everything, always so considerate.
How did he get so lucky?
“Baby… yn..” he calls out your name in the most soft voice, his lips hot against your skin, “want you to cum together w’me..”
He thrusts deeper into you, making you gulp before you can respond to him, you can see the stars as he mercilessly fucks you with all his might.
It. feels. so. good.
“I-I feel close, gojo..” you confess. He knows, he’s nodding into your hair, kissing you, “I know princess, let loose.”
He’s so gentle with his words yet so rough with his movements.
You know you can’t hold yourself back anymore.
He caresses your back, whispering sweet nothings into your ear, you feel his hips bucking up.
You follow him, doing the same.
And before you can think of anything, you both release together.
“My gazelle… so perfect for me every single time..” he smiles, panting hard as he presses a wet kiss on your sweaty forehead,
“it’s completely okay if you get pregnant baby.”
He winks and you roll your eyes.
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actuallysaiyan · 1 day
Text
The First Time(Aka How Nanami Kento Lost His Virginity) Chapter Two: A Little More Touch Me
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Chapter Two: A Little More Touch Me
warnings: making out, mentions of death, trauma, heavy petting, premature ejaculation pairings: Emo!Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader summary: you meet up with Kento once more and invite him to your dorm on the night that holiday break starts. after an intense game of Two Truths And A Lie, things get a little handsy. you eventually have to comfort him after he gets a little too excited. a/n: Chapter title is in reference to the song "A Little Less Sixteen Candles, A Little More Touch Me" by Fall Out Boy.
TAGLIST: @beneathstarryskies @benkeibear @kenpachisbrat @seireiteihellbutterfly @an-ever-angry-bi @namikyento @adharadotcom @heyitsd1yaa @darkstarlight82 @marikuchanxo @gennaray @markleeisdabestdrug
MDNI banners and Reblog for support banners by @\benkeibear <3
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Masterlist
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For a few weeks after the kiss, Nanami was avoiding you a little. He would say hi to you if you were to outright greet him, but he never really approached you. So you decided to give him a little room. You worried a little that maybe you had been too forward with him during that first hangout.
Your classes were going well. Slowly, you found yourself competing with Kento for the top spot in terms of grades. Your projects went well, and you even began to make friends. Things were going really smoothly. In a few more weeks, it was time for the first holiday leave of the semester. You were excited to go home.
Everything seemed to be going so well. You were thrilled at the prospect of having some time off to focus on spending time with your parents. Then the inevitable happened. They called to tell you they’d be staying somewhere else for the holiday.
So you were going to be stuck in your dorm for the holiday. You’d be alone. With your plans crushed, you decided to make the best of it. You’d be spending the majority of your time in the dorm, then maybe you’d try to go out and do a little shopping at some point. You wanted to make yourself feel a little better, even though you knew things would be bleak.
Everyone is getting ready to leave for the holiday, and you notice that only a handful of students are staying. One of them happens to be Nanami Kento. Your heart soars at the thought of spending even just a little time with him. Ever since that night, you haven’t been able to get him off your mind.
You approach him, a shy look on your face. Kento looks away, blushing a little. Then, when you’re face-to-face, he offers you a bashful smile.
“Staying here for the holiday?” you ask.
He nods, “Yeah. You?”
“I wasn’t planning on it, but my folks are headed out on vacation. So I can’t go home.”
Nanami finds himself feeling sad for you. He knows what it’s like to not have a place to go for the holidays. He hasn’t talked to his parents in a long time. Ever since he attended Jujutsu Tech, he had managed to keep them at a safe distance. They had understood, but that didn’t mean he didn’t miss them, and they didn’t miss him. Nanami just couldn’t find the courage to contact them after years of not talking to them.
“M-maybe we can keep each other company.”
Your heart skips a beat at his suggestion. You flash him the sweetest smile, nodding your head.
“I’d love that.”
Nanami scratches the back of his head nervously, “You busy right now?”
You shake your head, “Nope. Wanna come by my dorm? We can watch anime, get some take-out.”
Nanami smiles and he offers you his hand. For the first time in weeks, he was showing you that he still wanted to be around you. And you were enjoying every moment of being with him.
Once inside your dorm room, you and Kento decide to watch some anime together. Then you take the time to order a pizza, memorizing the toppings he enjoys. It’s like you two have been friends for ages instead of just a few weeks.
When the pizza gets there, you and Kento sit at the table. The topics of conversation seem to flow very easily between the two of you. But neither of you talk about the kissing. It’s something that seems to be a little taboo to mention right now.
Eventually, you suggest playing a little game to break the ice even more.
“Two truths and a lie. You tell three stories; two of them true and one of them a lie.”
Kento smirks. “Alright, I think I can enjoy this.”
You begin to think about what you’re going to tell him. This had been a game you had played in one of your clubs in high school. He seems to be thinking about it just as hard as you. Then you take another sip of your soda before you look at him.
“You first.” You offer, and he shakes his head.
“Not ready. You go first.”
You sigh but you smirk playfully. Then you scratch your chin, making a big show of considering it.
“Okay, so first, I used to work in a bank. It’s why I’m studying business and finance.”
Kento studies your features, “A bank, huh? Yeah okay…I could see it.”
“Secondly, my parents are high school sweethearts, and they had me very young. My mom was only nineteen when she gave birth to me.”
This makes Kento laugh: “High school sweethearts is the right term. Damn, nineteen?!”
You nod, “Yup! And lastly, I was in a commercial when I was a little baby.”
Kento considers all the things you’ve just said. He wants to almost believe you aren’t lying at all, but you don’t seem the type to lie about the game. He doesn’t know enough about you to truly figure out the lie, so he’s going to guess.
“I call bullshit on the last thing. There’s no way you were in a commercial.”
You laugh, “Nope! That’s not the lie. My parents weren’t high school sweethearts. They met in college.”
Kento’s eyes widened, “What commercial?!”
You go over to grab your laptop, and you pull up the video. It’s a commercial for baby food, and Kento finds himself so endeared by the way you were so cute then. Not to say you aren’t cute now, but it’s much different.
“You’re turn,” you say as you begin eating another piece of pizza. 
Kento considers it all very carefully. He knows that he has to keep his Jujutsu life under wraps, but maybe it couldn’t hurt for you to know a bit more about his past. He knows what he’s about to say might make you feel pity for him, and he doesn’t necessarily want to use it to his advantage, but he does want you to know more about him. Even the ugly parts need to be known.
“First, my star sign is Cancer. My birthday is July 3rd.”
You smile and say, “I can see it. You are moody and brooding.”
Kento frowns, “Hey! I’m not ‘moody’ nor am I ‘brooding’. I am just a loner…”
You reach over to squeeze his hand, “Sorry, please continue.”
Nanami looks over at you and sighs, “Blond isn’t my natural hair color. I dye it.”
“Oooh, rebellious. I like it.”
Then Nanami swallows hard. He had been considering this last one for a long time. He knows it could go sour. It could make him feel terrible to even speak about it. He looks at you and he feels his heart aching.
“My best friend died at seventeen.”
You nearly choke on your soda. Was this true? Surely that had to be the lie. You weren’t sure because you didn’t think his hair was dyed. So maybe his star sign was something else.
“W-what?” you manage to spit out.
Nanami looks down at his hands on his lap, “Which one is the lie? Isn’t that the game?”
You look away, your bottom lip trembling. This was starting to become serious. Because of the way he was acting and talking, you had to know that the third thing he said was the truth.
“D-did he really die? Your best friend?”
Nanami gasps at the way you just ignored the directives of the game. You looked inside of him, seeing his true emotions. You notice the quiver in his bottom lip. You watch as he wants to be completely swallowed up by the ground.
“H-he did. He died when he was seventeen.”
You don’t know what to say. How could someone go through something like that and continue on through life? You reach over and give his hand a careful squeeze.
“We can stop the game now,” you offer.
Kento nods shakily, “Probably for the best.”
After a few moments of silence, you get up to clean the kitchenette. Then you guide him over to the couch, wrapping him up in a blanket. Nanami feels the warmth coming from you. Something about these little actions is calming him down.
Then you both look at each other. There’s an electricity in the air, tinged with sadness. He reaches out for you, pulling you in closer. He holds you tightly, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck.
“You’ve been my first friend since then.” He finally says: “Well, my first close friend since Yu.”
You blink away tears. “I’m here for you, Kento. I promise.”
He shudders in your embrace. He’s not sure what’s coming over him. A myriad of emotions seem to be attacking him, making him feel weak for you. Then he looks at you with tear-filled eyes. You slowly close the gap, kissing his lips so softly. Kento pushes himself closer, cupping your face.
“I’m sorry for dropping that bomb on you,” he whispers.
You smile sweetly. “It’s okay, honey. You’re allowed to talk to me about that stuff if you want to.”
Then Kento resumes kissing you. It’s less sloppy than the last time. You can tell he was taking his cues from you. This time, he seems confident enough to take the lead. His tongue glides against your bottom lip, and you gladly part them.
He lets out a cute moan when your tongues touch. You don’t know if he’s using this type of emotion and release to try and forget about the pain, but you won’t judge him for it. You’ll allow him to do this if it means he’ll feel better afterwards.
His hands begin to wander; he’s caressing you so tenderly and tentatively. You allow your hands to rest on his chest, gently rubbing. You begin to feel the physique that seems to be underneath all that dark clothing.
“You taste so good,” he says timidly when you pull away.
“Yeah? Not just like pizza?”
He chuckles. “Better than pizza.”
This causes you to kiss him deeply. You guide one of his hands to your breast, making him gasp. It’s so cute to know that he’s a complete virgin. You know you want to show him how to navigate this rocky road. You want to show him how to properly have a good time sexually. Your first time had been with someone more experienced than yourself, and they had taught you all the right things.
Then you feel his other hand join the first one, and he’s kneading your breasts. You pull away from the kiss to rest your forehead against his. You can tell he’s learned some of this from porn, and you place your own hands on his.
“Gentler,” you whisper. “Softer.”
“S-sorry…”
“Don’t be. You’re learning. You can take your time, we’re not in a rush.”
Kento feels a renewed sense of confidence. He uses your words of wisdom and goes slower and more gently. You begin to feel aroused, and you pant and moan at the way he’s massaging your tits. He’s going to become a natural in no time if you keep guiding him like this.
Suddenly, he pushes you back against the couch. You look up at him, and a smirk spreads on his face. He leans in to kiss you, laying his weight on top of you. It’s all so needy and a little desperate, but not unwanted. Kento kisses you with a heated passion.
“Mmmm, fuck you smell good.”
Just his words alone could make you melt into a puddle of mush. You don’t remember the last time you enjoyed a make-out session quite like this one. Nanami finally gains enough courage to begin grinding against you, and immediately you feel his erection against your thigh. Your eyes nearly bulge out when you feel just how thick his cock is.
“I want you so badly,” he whispers. 
“I want you too,” you nip at his bottom lip. “Let’s keep taking it slow, honey.”
Kento grunts softly as he grinds against you again. You move in tandem with him, enjoying the way this feels. Your body is heating up from the friction, and you can see the way there’s a dusting of pink on Kento’s cheeks and the tops of his ears from how aroused he is.
He’s trying to ignore the pleasure building in the pit of his tummy, and he’s certainly trying his best to ignore the way his balls are drawing up so fast. Nothing could ruin this moment for him. He’s whimpering and moaning your name as you two continue kissing in a hungry way and moving your bodies in the most perfect way.
“I—I—hnng fuck this feels so good,”
You nod your head, moaning his name as you grind against him a little harder. Kento whines as his cock begins to throb, and he’s squeezing his eyes shut to hold off the inevitable. A few more thrusts from your hips and he’s a goner.
“Shit! W-wait, I—”
He cries out as he begins to cum. Shot after shot of his cum begins to fill the front of his boxers. His hips stutter and he’s got the sexiest ‘O’ face you’ve ever seen. His cheeks are still a little pink as he slowly comes down from the high.
“Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck!” He curses as he gets up.
You’re quick to get up and you gather him up in your arms. You press the softest kiss to his lips.
“Listen to me, Ken. I’m not mad.”
He’s relieved to hear your words, but he’s still so fucking mortified. He wants to leave. He can’t bring himself to look into your eyes right now. 
“I’m not mad. It can happen to anyone. If anything, I am so flattered.”
Kento scoffs, “Shut up. It’s embarrassing.”
You kiss him again, “Baby, it’s okay.”
You offer him something to get changed into, and he finally relents and agrees to it. You find some baggy sweatpants in your room and you hand them to him along with a washcloth. He scurries to the bathroom, cursing himself.
You sit on the couch, adjusting the pillows and blankets to make a cute little cuddle pile. Then you grab some water and wait for him to return. Kento eventually does return to you after cleaning himself up and changing. And of course, a lengthy pep talk in the mirror.
He sits next to you, leaving some space. You hand him the bottle of water. He takes a few sips and then places the bottle down on the coffee table. You slowly scooch over towards him, smiling sweetly. Then you take his hand in yours, and he doesn’t pull away.
“Stay the night? We can snuggle and watch anime.”
Kento laughs, “Alright, alright. I’ll stay.”
You rest your head on his shoulder. You have so many questions to ask him, but for right now, you just want to bask in this feeling. Kento rests his head on yours, thankful for the silence.
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