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#but subconsciously you know it's 'i love you'
tonycries · 1 day
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Welcome To The Itadori's! - C.K.
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Synopsis. Three times Choso really, really wanted to hold you without his family barging in, and the one time he actually does. 
Pairing. Best friend! Choso Kamo x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, childhood best friends to lovers, slowburn, cameos from the Itadori’s (Yuji, Jin, grandpa, SUKUNA), smút only when they’re adults, first times, oral (female receiving), cúnnilingus, marking, rough, Choso’s a bit mean in bed, pet names, swearing.
Word count. 5.0k
A/N. The unc-kuna brainrot got me here, Yuji’s family tree is HILARIOUS.
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“You’ve never what?”  
“I mean, yeah? So what if I’ve never…uh-” eyes darting to the erotic scene on-screen. “M’surely not missing out on that much.”
Maybe he was. Maybe he wasn’t. Whatever the answer was, Choso could only pray that no one walked into your apartment right now.
---
Choso swears his family is well and fully intent on ruining every waking moment with you. 
He’s convinced even, at this point. Because in the 13 long years of being inseparable from you - ever since you were both whiney, snot-faced brats - Choso’s racked up more interruptions than he’s seen on those k-dramas that his grandfather swears he doesn’t watch.
It was like some cosmic joke, really. All he wanted was a moment with just the two of you…and maybe a second or two to confess his undying love. But that didn’t seem too realistic when the Itadori’s were a bit of a packaged deal, unfortunately.  
Alas, Choso’s resigned himself to accept the fact that maybe - just maybe - this was the universe’s way of telling him that his pretty best friend was indeed too good for him. Something he’s suspected ever since the both of you were eight.
The realization had hit him like a semi-truck back then - five of them, in fact. And a whole zoo of animals afterward.
Of course, it’s not like that was any secret. He always thought you were perfect from the second you’d moved in - that new family next door he’d been eagerly waiting ages to arrive. And Choso, being the dutiful oldest son, was the one to deliver welcome cookies to your doorstep. Stumbling, and carefully trying to reach for the doorbell without dropping any. 
“Um, welcome to-”
“Your hair’s funny.”
Now, Choso’s never greeted neighbors before, but it surely wasn’t supposed to go like this. Why was he being insulted by some little girl - you were missing a few teeth, and his had just grown back in so obviously he was much older and wiser. All unapologetic smiles and twinkling eyes as you blink up curiously at his space buns. Pretty, even when you were tearing his heart out because hey, he thought this hairstyle was cool, okay?
Which is what had him huffing and puffing back home, running straight into the arms of his dad while he tried not to cry. That is, until you came knocking at his door with your parents. Very much bawling and pulling him into a bone-crushing hug with wet mumbles of “M’sorry, meant your hair’s very cool. Wanna match-”
And, if his cheeks burned just a bit, well, Choso blamed the tears. 
After a disaster like that, of course you’d grow to be best friends within the day. 
But what that didn’t explain was when - after hours of bickering over whether to play tag or house - you were all tuckered out and sat beside him in a corner of his room, too exhausted to talk his ear off. Head lolling once. Twice. Falling softly onto his shoulder.
Oh. 
Now, Choso might just be having the first epiphany of his entire, grueling eight years in this world - that you were very, very pretty fast asleep with your head on his shoulder. 
Why? Why were you here barging into his life and turning it upside down? Calling him your “new best friend” and dragging him along wherever you went. It made his poor head absolutely spin, not daring to move a muscle so that you didn’t wake up and see this tiny predicament.
He didn’t know why. But what he did know was that he found himself subconsciously reaching for your hand, a strange little part of himself wanting to see how much smaller they were than his. They looked so soft and warm and-
“I WANNA PLAY T- Oh.”
Oh indeed. He hastily lurches away from you like it burned, hands raised like he was caught red-handed. Feeling slightly sorry when he sees you blinking away the sleep to take in your surroundings, eyes bouncing off of a very excited Yuji and resting on the clock.
“Oh no. Mommy’s gonna be mad.” you gasp, hastily getting up. And he feels a weird pang as you quickly dust down your dress, running out the door with a laughed out, “Bye, Yuji! See ya later, Cho~!”
“Bye, crybaby.”
And then it’s quiet. Only Choso still staring after you, and Yuji staring at his older brother, somewhat awestruck and wondering only one thing-
“Big bro, why are you so red?”
Choso doesn’t think he’s gotten a moment alone with you since that first initial meeting. 
Fourteen was definitely the worst, in his opinion.
“Hey, Cho, y’know the girl sitting next to me in math said she had her first kiss today.”
“Oh.” It’s all Choso can manage to get out, paying more attention than he should to the gravel beneath him as he tries not to trip over air beside you. Hot under his uniform collar at the sudden shift in conversation from the usual after-school banter. 
Looping your arm with his, you heave out a playful sigh, “I wonder what that feels like. Have you ever thought about it?” 
No, but Choso has never thought that he’d be here - face burning at your body pressed up against his. Just knowing that his ancestors above are laughing at what a loser he is, barely able to stammer out an answer to your question. 
Okay, maybe he was being dramatic. Because it wasn’t like he hadn’t thought about kissing before - it’s just that whenever it popped into his mind, you were usually accompanying him. Along with those strange thoughts of whether your lips are as soft as they looked? Or would your heartbeat be as fast as-
“Man, are you even listening?” 
Shit. 
Your hand waving in front of Choso’s face brings him back to reality. Blinking hastily, he tries to gather his thoughts, mumbling out a quick, “Uh, yeah, sorry. Just lost in thought.” averting his gaze as he feels the heat rise to his cheeks at your intense gaze.
Your smile only widens, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you nudge his side. “Thinking so hard about kissing, huh? Cho, you lecher!” 
“Am not.”
“Am to.”
“Am not.”
“Am to.”
“Who were you imagining it with, huh? Gonna give ‘em a big smooch tomorrow?”
God, you were going to be the death of him. “N-no! I haven’t even- shut up, crybaby, it’s not like-” he sputters out useless protests over your laughter - his favorite song, even when you were teasing the hell out of him. But ah how you relish in his embarrassment, tittering out little giggles all the way until you’re steering him onto your lane. 
Choso, on the other hand, keeps wishing the ground would swallow him up more and more with each step towards his porch. He’d have broken into a sprint right then if he hadn’t known you and the way you’d race him there instead.
“Alright.” you declare once you’re stood at his front door, jolting Choso out of his reverie. And he’s barely opening his mouth to register your words before you plowing on confidently. “We’ll just have to practice our first kisses with each other.”
Perfect. Great. Wonderful. 
The final nail on his coffin. You might as well have planted a bombshell right in the middle of his already-chaotic world with the way he was reeling in- shock? Fear? Anticipation?
“Practice.” Choso whispers, more to himself than you. Yet you nod anyway, eyes locked with his like you were studying his reaction. “For…practice.”
Doubt starts to creep into your pretty features, “Well, we don’t have to if you do-”
“No no no no, I want- ahem.” he cringes at the pathetic desperation in his voice. Desperately trying to scramble back some semblance of sanity as he clears his throat, “I want to. Just-” Choso urgently looks around for- ah, there it is. 
Dragging over the brick from the side of his porch because goddammit he might be 14 but he sure hadn’t hit that growth spurt yet. “Practice, right?”
You nod with a fiery determination that, later on, would make Choso chuckle with fondness. Muttering out a firm, “Practice.” Letting the boy in front of you nervously leans closer, breath fanning your face. And shit if you were nervous then you didn’t show it, but Choso felt like he was about to spontaneously combust. 
Brows furrowing in concentration, eyes only squinting ever-so-slightly as he takes peaks at how pretty you looked. Close enough that he could count every lash as your pretty eyes closed shut, lips glistening with that strawberry chapstick you loved, puckering adorably. Only inching closer and-
Click! 
“You two are so cute! But um- dear, how do you mute this thing?”
You spring apart so fast that Choso wouldn’t be surprised if you’d teleported. He doesn’t even know what’s happening before, from the safety of about three meters away from him, you’re muttering out an embarrassed little, “Hi there, Mr. Itadori. The gardenia are coming along nicely.”
His dad smiles like he hadn’t just starred in what was likely Choso’s villain origin story. Waving happily, “Aww, thank you, sweetheart. Now, why don’t you two go back to doing your lil’ thing and I can ah- practice my photography.”
“Dad, I’m running away.”
That practice kiss never happens. And, well, if there was a proudly framed photo down the hallway of the two of you - with Choso absolutely bright red and standing comically on a brick to meet your height, faces nervously scrunching towards each other - well, neither of you ever mention it. Jin Itadori does, though - every time you come over, in fact. 
It’s only when you’re both eighteen, when Choso’s a lot deeper in his feelings - and only slightly less embarrassed about it - that he thinks that maybe not all family interruptions were that bad. 
Graduation was…something. Not exactly something that he’s sure if he’ll ever want to relive with the sheer amount of awkward photos and tears that his dad lets out. God if he has to shuffle into another-
“You alright, Cho?”
Ah. 
Traitorously, a smile makes its way onto his face, peering down at your beaming face. Both of you having made it way past the awkward early teens. Well, at least you certainly have - Choso still feels like the same awkward little boy with an even more awkward crush. “Hm? Yeah, m’great.” 
“Are ya sure? Because you look like you’re about to have an aneurysm any second now.” you raise a brow teasingly. Ah, how gorgeous you were - even when you’re picking him apart. 
“Yeah. Great. Only had this smile plastered on for the last five hours.”
“Aww, but you look so pretty smiling.” you shrug, with the audacity of someone that didn’t just have Choso’s knees dangerously weak. “Anyway- A bunch of us are gonna try to convince ol’ Yaga to let us take photos with his shades, you wanna come?”
“You think m’pretty?” he muses, embarrassingly late.
“Cho.”
“Yaga. Shades. Got it.” Choso mock salutes, drinking in the little laugh it startles out of you, eyes sparkling with mischief and looking right into his soul. Beautiful. You were always beautiful. 
And Choso can’t just stand around and do nothing about it.
“Crybaby, look, I-” Fists clenching, he takes a steadying breath. The heat only rising to his cheeks at your awaiting gaze, “I…”
“HEY, GRANDPA HELPED STEAL YAGA’S SHADES LET’S TAKE A PIC-”
“SHUT THE FUCK UP ITADORI. YOU’RE RUINING A MOMENT, LET THEM HAVE THEIR MOMENT.”
“I don’t know either of you two.”
It would be a miracle for a moment not to be ruined with two overly-energetic first-years (and a very reluctant Fushiguro) pushing their way into your little bubble. Choso bites back a groan as you’re immediately swarmed by a bickering Kugisaki and Yuji, one apologizing for “ruining your k-drama moment” and the other trying to get you to put on some sunglasses. Well, at least he could empathize with the black-haired boy, who gave him an apologetic nod. 
He’s only halfway through waving off the interruption before a voice speaks up from his side. “Why didn’t you say it?”
Whirling around, Choso comes face-to-face with the disappointed look on his grandfather’s face. Already having some idea of what you mean, “Wha-”
“I may be old but m’not deaf, yet, boy. Why didn’t ya tell her?” he sighs, tilting his head to where you were wearing those shades and taking ridiculous pictures with two animated first-years. 
“I don’t know what you-”
“M’not blind, either. Quite frankly I’m insulted.”
And, well, if there’s anyone that he can’t hide from - it would be his grandfather. So he heaves out a defeated sigh, touselling his hair while muttering out a pathetic little, “M’not- Ugh, she’s too fuckin’ perfect and I…I chickened out.”
Choso doesn’t know what he expected in response but it definitely wasn’t for his grandfather to laugh. Full, and raspy - loud enough that even you stop to stare. “Thought so, idiot boy.” he chuckles, drawing indignant protests. “Did she tell you?”
Raising a brow, “What?”
“Did she tell you that you weren’t good ‘nough for her?”
“No, but-” Whatever protest on the tip of Choso’s tongue is cut off by a rough hand smacking his back in what he thinks is reassurance, but felt more like a punishment for being such a pussy around you all these years. 
“Then go. Ya might just be surprised. After all, you’re my grandson, and all the ladies at bingo love me.”
Shaking with both adrenaline and the effort to keep that image out of his mind, he makes his way towards you. Purposeful. Pointedly ignoring the matching smirks flashed his way. 
“You really think they’ll finally get together today?” Fushiguro deadpans from where he’d snuck up beside the old man, in an attempt to escape the public nuisances he calls ‘friends’. 
Choso’s grandfather hums thoughtfully, watching the scene play out before him - Choso flushed such a delicate shade of pink as you playfully put Yaga’s sunglasses on him. Settling on a gruff, “I’ll give it a few months more. He’s my grandson, after all.”
“That’s generous. I’d give it a couple years more.”
“Wanna bet, brat?”
“...”
Safe to say, his second button ended up safely in your hands that day. But Fushiguro would be the one to really win the bet. 
Because it was only 2 years, 4 months and 3 weeks after this little incident that Choso finally had you exactly where he wanted - with no interruptions. All for him. 
Freshly twenty one, splayed out on your apartment bedroom and having a conversation that he never in a million years would’ve even dared to imagine he’d have - with you of all people. All because of that stupid R-rated film you’d put on for movie night. 
“You’ve never what?” you gape, turning down the volume to those painfully fake moans coming from the tv.
Oh, how gorgeous you looked - all shocked and batting your lashes up at him in surprise. Choso almost swoons inwardly (and outwardly) before he realizes that shit you were probably waiting for an answer.
“I mean, yeah?” he sputters out, cheeks heating up as you lean in closer to hear him. Close. “So what if I’ve never…uh-” eyes darting to the erotic scene on-screen. “M’surely not missing out on that much.”
Goddammit, some strange, carnal part of himself twinges dangerously at the little smirk that curls your lips. One that he quickly - and embarrassingly - realizes has the blood rushing straight to his cock. Humming a low, “Maybe. Maybe not.” The mattress dips slightly as you shift closer, lips ghosting his ear. “Want me to help you find out?”
Which is, well, how Choso found himself shoved against the armrest. Blanket thrown on the floor now, swollen cock leaking furiously through his pants as your pretty lil’ cunt hovers above his mouth. So wet that if he stuck his tongue out he could have you dripping all onto him. 
“Y-you sure about this, sweetheart?” he hisses despite his hands looping around your thighs, bringing you closer to him.
You raise a brow, “Are you sure, Cho?”
He should say no. He should laugh this all off as a bad joke. He shouldn’t ruin this friendship - but oh how badly he wants just a taste of your dripping pussy - see if she’s as sweet as the rest of you is. So, throwing caution to the wind, Choso nods slowly. “Yes. Want it s’bad.”
Grinning wickedly, you whisper, “Thought so.” And then he’s pulling you onto his mouth, hot and urgent.
“Oh fuck-” he groans, eyes rolling to the back of his head at the first taste of your sweet sweet juices. “Shit shit shit.” So sloppily licking up your swollen folds - barely moving with any method or patience, just that he’s drunk on your pussy and wants more more more-
“Hngh- f-fuck. You sure this is your hah- first time, Cho?” you gasp breathlessly. And oh your best friend was so fucking beautiful. Dark hair untied and tousled, eyes half-hooded, your slick already smearing across the bottom half of his face and trickling down his jaw because shit he was so messy. So addicted to that desperate expression on your face that he just can’t help but tease you a little bit. 
“Mhm?” he smirks, tongue swirling around your pulsing clit. Purposefully missing right where you wanted him the most because shit he loved those cute lil’ whines spilling out of you. 
You let out a huff, hips trying pathetically to inch him closer - but Choso wasn’t budging. Holding you so firmly by the hips that you’re sure he leaves bruises, licking all over your cunt except for your clit. “Cho.” you warn. Brows furrowing in frustration at the way he bats his long lashes up at you so deceivingly innocently, “What?”
“You know…”
“I don’t.” he titters teasingly into your pussy. 
“Choso.”
Now, Choso’s known and seen everything there is to do with you - but never like this. Spread open shamefully and pouting so adorably on top of him, so needy for him. It made his head spin to think of just how much the dynamics had shifted. 
Shit, he really should’ve watched that godforsaken movie with you sooner. “Tell me what you want, crybaby.”
And oh how his cock twitches at the way you manage to get out an embarrassed little, “Wan’ you to ngh- tonguefuck me properly. Wanna cum on your pretty face, Cho.”
And that’s all that’s said before he’s surging forward, glossy lips wrapping around your pulsing clit to suck harshly. Rolling his soft tongue over and over-
“Wanted this for so long.” Choso mutters, muffled as he buries himself deeper into your pretty pussy. The vibrations sending white-hot pleasure running down your spine. “You have absolutely no idea, pretty.”
And you barely even have the time to register his little confession before Choso’s moving down to bully his tongue past your folds. Nose pressing against your throbbing clit as he dips into your sloppy hole. 
“Oh shit. Jus’ like that.” For a beginner, your best friend really knew what he was doing. Eating you out like his favorite meal, tongue squeezing into your snug pussy to thrust in and out, swipe against your walls, stretching you out right to his will. Over and over-
“Use me.”
Your eyes snap down to meet the pure adoration in his eyes as he makes out filthily with your cunt. Choking out a little, “What?”
“Use me.”
There it was again - that strained little mantra. And as if to prove his point, Choso reaches out to deftly place your hands on his head, bucking into you touch. 
And, well, how could you say no to that?
Because before you know it, you’re bunching Choso’s soft strands in your fists. Angling him just right to ride his pretty face. “C’mon, Cho. Ngh- H-harder, jus’ a bit- Oh!” he just devours the way your mouth drops into an adorable little oh! as his tongue curls deftly against that one spot. Again and again. Letting himself be so used, dragging your dripping cunt harder on his mouth. 
And he likes it. Hell, he loves it even - because you’re so sweet n’ pretty on his mouth. Better than everything he’s ever been dreaming of for the past few years. And always in his dreams, you’d be clenching so deliciously around his tongue when you were close - just like right now. 
So he speeds up his movements, breathing you in maddeningly. A hand snaking down from it’s favorite place on your hips to draw quick, frenzied little circles on your poor, ravaged clit. Jaw almost aching with how filthily he was dripping in and out of your entrance - be he did give a shit. Only wanting to have you breathless and creaming all over his face.
You jerk violently on top of him, “Hah! S’too much, Cho. M’so close- gonna cum- gonna-”
And then you’re cumming. Fast, and hard. 
Plushy walls clamping down on Choso’s tongue, hips stuttering on his face as he laps up all your juices, an arm around your waist helping you ride his face through your high. 
“S’sweet. Could get used to that.” he slurs into your cunt. Tipping his head back as far as it’d go to let the last of your juices slide down his throat. “Better than I imagined.”
The words ring in your ears as you blink back your vision. Deliriously whirling down to look down at Choso - still beneath you and looking more smug and content than you’d ever seen him. “Imagination? S’that why you’re so good.”
“No.”
You’re being flipped before you know it. Manhandled so easily by your best friend as he lays you on your back, sinking into the cushion while he looms above you. “S’jus’ that…” grunting as he flings his shirt off, “Been dreaming of your pretty cunt on m’tongue for years.”
Okay, now his confession hits - more than it did when he was tonguefucking you into insanity, anyway. 
“Years, huh?” you breathe out, eyes roaming all over his sculpted torso. Taking in every dip and curve of Choso’s toned abs - all the way from his broad shoulders to the rock-hard cock straining against his pants. As if in a trance, your hand reaches out to cup his leaking erection, “S’that all you’ve been dreaming of?”
“You little minx.” he lets out a low hiss. 
Before you can even react, Choso’s fumbling with that belt - cursing because shit, he’d have worn sweatpants instead if he knew they’d end up on your floor. 
And you’re not any better, fingers popping open his buttons and tugging impatiently and oh- You always thought that your best friend would have a big dick - but this?  He was so intimidatingly long - and thick enough that you wondered whether you’d hurt yourself. Fat tip flushed such a pretty shade of pink to match his cheeks, leaking down down down, all the way to his heavy balls. 
You’re only jolted out of your little reverie by Choso spitting a steady stream of spit onto your quivering cunt, spreading it lazily across your pussy with his thumb. A ringed fist pumping his cock slowly, as he drags his tip across your folds, pooling your sweet juices. Muttering out a raspy, “I’ll be gentle.”
“You better not be, now jus’ fuck me-”
Well, you didn’t have to ask Choso twice. Because you’ve barely gotten the words out before he’s bullying massive cock into your tight cunt. Pressing in inch by fucking inch as you gasp and buck underneath him. 
“Shhh, s’okay, crybaby. This is what you wanted, right?” he mumbles, with all the audacity of someone that wasn’t fucking into you in rapid, mindless little jabs to fit inside your snug lil’ pussy. Struggling to hold back at this point. “Wanted to be split apart on m’cock?”
You were so full of him. Even more so when he throws your legs over his shoulders, bending all the way down and folding you in half so easily beneath him. 
He drinks in the barely-lucid squeal that leaves your swollen lips. Kissing your forehead gently, whispering against the skin, “Because I’ve wanted this for so fucking long.”
And then it was like something snapped - maybe his sanity, maybe the restraint that Choso’s been holding back for too long. Because immediately he’s plunging his throbbing cock into you - all the way till his balls, all angry and squeezing so painfully, smacks against your ass. 
“Wanted this.” he rasps into your open mouth. His hips were out of control now, thrusting you in shallow, desperate rams. Pounding into you like a man possessed, and running his mouth just as much. He laces his fingers on top of your head, pushing you down even deeper into his relentless cock - as if the bastard wasn’t fucking you dumb already. “Fuckin’ needed this needed this. Shit- so bad.”
“Ch-Choso- fuck hah-” you plead as his mouth clashes with yours. All sloppy with teeth and spit and his profanities - and it felt so damn good. 
“Yeah? Who’s fucking you silly, now?” he’s going harder now, tip hitting your poor cervix over and over. And you’d be sobbing at the burn and the stretch but all you can think of is shit this is Choso - the kid you used to play hide and seek with. And now he seems fully intent on breaking you. “Say m’name.”
A rough thumb starts toying with your clit, in time with the cute lil’ whines of his name that escape your mouth like a prayer. “Shit. Y’look so pretty like this.” he babbles. “Gonna cry, pretty girl?” smirking down at the way you were too cockdrunk to even snap back, only looking up at him with delirious, teary eyes. “Be a crybaby for my cock?”
You’re tugging on his hair, thighs shaky and bucking upwards. “Cho-”
“Mhm?”
“W-wanna cum. Need you to fill m’up till I can’t take it anymore.”
Oh if Choso was any lesser man he’d have cum right then and there. Instead settling for a guttural groan, drunk off the way you were milking his cock so hard as if to prove your point. It almost made him want to stay like this forever. But no - not right now. 
“Oh yeah?” Hips becoming sloppy now, “Need it? Shit- m’so close.” Each word slurred, punctuated by a harsh thrust, strokes long and frenzied. Using your heavenly pussy like his personal fucktoy. So hard that he’s sure you’d have embarrassing matching bruises tomorrow - his balls on your ass, your nails raking down his shoulders.
“Me too- fuck fuck fuck-” you mewl into his neck, as Choso buried his face into yours. 
“Cum f’me, my girl.”
My girl. 
And then you are - and he is. And you don’t know who cums first, just that you’re seeing stars behind your eyes and Choso’s teeth digging into your neck as he thrusts once. Twice. Before cumming and cumming so hard he might as well have seen the pearly gates of heaven. And you were an angel.
Thick, hot ropes of cum that paint your walls white, so much that it gushes out of your poor overfilled pussy. Dripping down your legs and pooling into a sinful, creamy ring at his base. 
“Mm- shit. Choso.” you moan, barely audible over the lewd squelches from below. 
“M’here, my girl.” he grits out, voice shot. And it seems that that was his new favorite nickname, because Choso keeps murmuring it over and over as he keeps fucking his seed into you. Not even thinking about it at this point - just mindless, shallow grinds of his hips. 
In the haze of your orgasm, you think you hear his quiet voice, strained with exhaustion and something that you weren’t in the right state of mind to decipher right now. 
“Shhh, m’here. “Can’t believe I waited so fuckin’ long.” Whispering against your lips, “Love this. Love this pretty cunt.” Kissing softly, “Love the way y’take me. Fuckin’ made f’me.” And maybe even a soft little, “Love you.”
And maybe - just maybe, you whisper the same into his. Kissing him softly, exactly the way you’d wanted to all these years. 
Neither of you speak after that. Not when Choso’s hips stall, body sticky and collapsing onto yours. Nor do you speak when he pulls away with a playful nip to your lower lip - a promise. Searching through your clothes for a washcloth he can wipe yourselves clean with. 
It’s only when he settles back under the covers beside you, looking at you with such dark, hazy eyes - whirling with too many emotions to name - that the silence is broken. 
“Crybaby.”
“Cho.”
“Corny.”
“You started it.”
Chuckling, Choso pulls your body close to his. Not even a hair’s breadth between you two because shit now that he’s got you, he doesn’t think he ever wants to let you go. 
“Y’know…” he starts, “I think we should- I mean- if you want…” nervous now more than he was even after all that just transpired. Cheeks flaring as he meets your amused gaze, just daring him to go on - because you saw through him. You always did. “I lov-”
“Am I late for the mov- WHAT THE FUCK I ALWAYS KNEW BRATS WEREN’T JUST FRIENDS-”
---
Itadori Family Groupchat + Two More
Dad: Hey, all. I can’t seem to get a hold of Choso to confirm tomorrow’s dinner plans. Can anyone else let me know if he’s ok? XX
-Jin.
Yuji <3: He’s probs at rhat “best friend movie night” still 
Dad: Hello, Yuji. What is a “probs”? XX
-Jin.
Kugisaki: He’s suspiciously quiet, though… Y’all think that “best friend movie night” is codeword for something else? 
Yuji <3: Better not be cuz Sukuna stole my sparw key sayin something ab crashing it idk
Kugisaki: *spare
And you just LET him?
Yuji <3: HE THREATENED TO BURN MY MEGAN THEE STALLION POSTER 
AND DID IT ANYWAY
Kugisaki: L
Fushiguro: L
Gramps: L
Sukuna (do not answer): DID Y’ALL KNOW THOSE TWO WERE FUCKIN????
*Fushiguro has left the chat*
Dad: :0
-Jin.
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A/N. Spiritually, this is a crackfic idk.
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hgfictionwriter · 3 days
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Bliss
Jessie Fleming x Reader
Summary: Jessie and you are on your honeymoon. She can't keep her hands off of her new wife.
Warnings: Smut. Pool sex, facesitting, slight overstimulation, etc.. Language as well.
A/N: Okay. I'm a little out of control on this one. Buckle up because it's long. My imagination went a little crazy. Based on this request.
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"Jessie, come look at the pool. It looks beautiful at night with all of the lights."
Jessie hummed as she came up behind you, gently pressing herself against your back and wrapping an arm around your waist. She tilted her head down to lay a soft kiss at the base of your neck. You chuckled lightly at how her breath tickled your skin.
"Want to take a dip?" She asked, subconsciously swaying both of you gently from side to side as you looked out the glass doors of your honeymoon suite.
You turned your head back to look at her with a quiet smile. "That sounds perfect."
You both got changed into your swimsuits and Jessie went in first. Once she was in she turned and reached up to offer you her hand. You took it and let her guide you into the private pool attached to your suite. Tall bushes and trees lined the area, ensuring privacy and freeing you from any prying eyes.
You smiled as she took a seat, the water resting just below her shoulders, and pulled you onto her lap. You readily obliged, wrapping your arms around the back of her neck as she held you.
"How is my wife liking her honeymoon so far?" She asked as she looked up to you. Your smile widened immediately at the acknowledgement of your new title. Marriage wasn't even something you necessarily knew you'd wanted growing up, but after meeting Jessie and falling in love with her, becoming her wife felt all too right.
"It's gorgeous," you told her as you leaned down to capture her lips in a kiss. "And how is my beautiful wife liking her honeymoon?" She grinned into the kiss.
"Even more amazing than I'd dreamed it would be," she told you. Even with the recessed lights around the pool, the area was fairly dark and you weren't sure if she could see your blush.
You'd been together for several years and it still warmed your heart when she spoke so romantically with you. Jessie wasn't known as an openly sentimental person, so for her to make such statements so unabashedly with you still made you feel special.
You deepened your kiss and thumbed her cheek tenderly. The past few weeks had been an absolute whirlwind with the wedding and all of the obligations and activities that went along with it. It felt like you two had been going full tilt for ages between the wedding, her competitions, and your work. You were grateful to be able to slow down and finally spend some time together, just the two of you. You knew she felt the same by how clingy she was leading up to this. Always with a hand on your back, her pinky hooked with yours, or her chin on your shoulder, with "I miss you" texts sprinkled throughout.
You loved that this composed - sometimes guarded - woman was so soft and loving with you.
"I can't believe you're finally my wife," Jessie whispered between kisses, awe in her voice.
"Took you long enough, Fleming," you teased, pulling a grumble out of her. Her fingers dug into your hips slightly as she gave you a pouting glare.
"I've been calling you my 'future wife' since year one," she protested lightly. You chuckled and kissed her placatingly.
"I know, my love. I'm just teasing. I never doubted your commitment or intentions."
"Good," she said with lingering disapproval. "Don't make me pull out years-old texts to friends and family where I told them I was going to marry you."
You pulled back and cocked your head curiously. "I don't know - I mean that sounds very appealing to me."
"Yeah, I'll bet," Jessie said as she rolled her eyes playfully and pulled you closer to her, wrapping her arms more fully around you and leaning down to kiss your collarbone.
"In the meantime," she went on, her voice now low, "I can think of some other ways to reassure you."
"Mm, you think?" You played along, letting your head fall back a bit and inviting her to kiss up your neck. "Tell me all about it." You felt her smirk against you.
"You know I'm really more of a doer than a talker."
Your body tensed up as you felt her tongue sneak out for a teasing lick before her lips closed on the sensitive skin of your neck and she sucked lightly. You rocked your hips in her lap without thought and she reached up to start massaging your breasts.
She took her time teasing you and small whimpers escaped your throat as the aching between your legs grew greater and greater for her.
"You really don't need these," she announced as she reached down to hook a couple of fingers into the band of your bikini bottoms and gave a tug. You reluctantly lifted off of her long enough for her to pull them down your legs and she discarded them on the pool deck.
When you settled back down onto her lap, she massaged your thighs with her strong fingers, her head tilted back as she watched you grind yourself down onto her lap in need. She smirked.
"God, I'm lucky. I have the most beautiful wife," she told you.
You gave a gentle laugh that was quickly cut off with a soft gasp when her hand nestled itself between your legs and her fingers began to explore between your folds.
"Oh my god," she said with a lazy smile as she looked up at you. "I can't believe this is all mine. You feel so amazing every time."
"God, baby, don't tease me. I need you," you told her as you rocked against her fingers, begging her to enter you.
You hadn't had sex since the night before your wedding. You weren't supposed to see each other - stupid superstitions and all - but you'd snuck out to meet, just to check in and because you missed each other. Well, it just so happened that your little rendezvous ended with her fingers deep inside of you, her lips on yours. Still, since then it had been longer than either of you liked because things had been so busy. You needed her badly.
She hummed and leaned up to kiss you.
"Whatever my wife wants, she gets."
A small groan of appreciation fell from Jessie's lips as she slowly sunk into you. She watched with eager eyes as your back arched and you let your head fall back in immediate pleasure.
"I love you so much," Jessie told you as she took your form in, cast in the soft glow of night. She bit her lip as you gripped her fingers. "You're so tight. I love it."
"Oh God, Jessie," you moaned softly as you slowly rode her fingers, aided by the buoyancy of the water, "I love the way you fill me."
Jessie's head rolled back against the edge of the pool as she bit her lip watching you. "Fuck, I love when you talk like that." You leaned into her, allowing your lips to brush against her ear.
"Like what?" You whispered, a smile tugging at the corner of your mouth when you felt her shoulders tense and her free hand gripped your hips harder. "Like when I tell you I'm aching for you. How incredible it feels when your thick, strong fingers fill me. Stretching me."
You continued to ride her slowly, arousal building at how you heard her breathing grow heavier and she started to rock back against you with greater emphasis.
"How when you curl your fingers inside of me the way you do, it makes me weak in the knees. The way you play with my clit sends waves of pleasure through me. And how just the sound of your voice, the way you're breathing right now, the way you're rocking your hips against me, gets me dripping wet for you."
"Fucking hell, babe," Jessie cursed, almost in a hypnotic daze from your words. "You're going to make me fucking cum and I'm the one fucking you right now."
"Is that so?" You teased as you sat back to look at her, running your fingers through her hair before leaning down and kissing her deeply, grinding down into her hand harder.
She tilted her head up, readily meeting your kiss and then some before pumping into you with firmer, faster strokes. She smiled as you whimpered into the kiss, tensing up at the new sensation. She bit your bottom lip, giving it a tug.
"I'm going to make love to you again, and again, and again tonight," she whispered as she kissed along your jawline, bringing up her free hand to run through your hair before cupping the back of your neck and kissing along the side of your neck.
A low moan escaped you and your dug your fingers into her scalp. She groaned in response and nipped at youf as she continued to thrust skillfully into and out of you, her thumb circling your clit.
"Jessie," you panted.
"You look so gorgeous in the moonlight," she said. You opened your eyes to look down to see her watching you steadily with love and affection.
"I love you so much, Jess," you told her between breaths.
She let out a shuddering breath and leaned you back slightly so she could fully appreciate your form. Her free arm gripped you tighter and she started bouncing you up and down on her, pulling you down onto her fingers with greater force and picking up the pace.
Your mouth fell open and you felt that familiar tightening begin in your core. She knew the signs.
"Cum for me, baby," she told you as she watched you - this beautiful woman she could now call her wife, start to come undone on account of her.
You dug your nails into the base of her neck and dragged your fingers down. She leaned into the touch, not breaking her gaze from you for a second. You convulsed around her fingers and she continued to curl her fingers inside of you, drawing out your orgasm.
In time, your breathing slowed once more and the tension in your shoulders, legs and back melted away and you floated fully into her arms. She held you against her, her fingers still inside of you as she continued to lay lingering kisses along your collarbone.
Eventually she chuckled. You nudged her head with yours in question, still too spent to speak.
"The private pool was worth the extra money," she told you, drawing a laugh out of you. She squeezed you in her arms. "I love you."
When you were ready, you both got out of the pool and went inside to rinse off in the shower. Your hands were all over each other the entire time and you were locked in a hungry kiss. You'd just hit your climax a few minutes ago, but as her hands roamed your body and as you ran yours along hers, appreciating the meticulously sculpted dips and curves of her defined muscles, that familiar heat between your legs returned.
You were toweling off and you couldn't break your eyes away from her. Her tanned skin brought out her freckles and you couldn't help but swallow at the sight of her muscles moving and flexing as she dried herself off. You stepped forward and she gave you a curious look as you took the towel from her and began drying her off for her.
Soon, you gently pushed her back against the bathroom counter and began kissing down her stomach. Her abs twitched as you trailed your tongue down them. You dropped the towel to the ground and brought your hands up to her sides, letting your nails graze down until they rested on her hips.
You knelt down before her on the towel and looked up at her. She unknowingly licked her lips and leaned back into the counter, her hands now gripping the edges.
"You are absolutely perfect," you told her as you moved your hands down her muscular thighs and nudged them open.
She exhaled heavily and you saw her knuckles growing white already.
A taut moan escaped Jessie's throat as you leaned up and ran your tongue along her folds. You smiled at how wet she was - and it wasn't from the shower.
"I adore the way you taste," you told her as you tilted your chin up into her and continued to lick up and down her.
You watched as her head fell back and she rolled her shoulders out. You moaned into her. She was gorgeous to begin with, but with her head thrown back like that, it accentuated the chiseled structure of her jaw and the angles of her neck.
You leaned up into her further, rising on your knees more and you brought your hands around to grip her gorgeously sculpted ass. You kneaded the muscles there and she groaned low in her chest.
She let go of the counter and placed both hands on the back of your head, her fingers digging into you. You moaned into her and she started to bend her knees and rock into you mouth.
"Baby, you make me feel so good," she told you as she intermittently gripped your hair. You wrapped your lips around her clit and sucked hard, flicking the sensitive bud with your tongue. She let out a high moan and her knees gave just slightly before she caught herself.
She bit her lip with a low chuckle and looked down at you.
"I wish I had my wedding ring on," she breathed, locking eyes with you. "I want to see the band catch the light, my hand on the back of your head while you're on your knees for me."
Your eyes fluttered shut and you groaned heavily into her, the vibration causing her legs to give again and her hands tightened in your hair once more.
"You're gonna make me cum," she told you, her voice raspy as she rolled her hips against your mouth.
You continued unwaveringly and you heard her breathing grow strained and heavy. You opened your eyes when she moved one hand back to the counter, bracing herself. Her eyes were screwed shut, her jaw clenched and her thighs began to flex around your head.
"Oh fuck. Y/N." Your name echoed off the tile walls as Jessie tensed up around you and she inhaled sharply, practically whimpering as her orgasm took her.
Seeing her like this, riding out her orgasm, never, ever got old. It astounded you that you were the one that she let take her over the edge.
When she relaxed, she released your hair and her body slumped back against the counter. Her mouth was agape as she worked to catch her breath and her eyes were momentarily unfocused before honing in on you.
"Jesus," she said as she forced herself to stand back up. You rose from the floor, wrapping your arms around her waist and she gave a breathless laugh. "I wasn't expecting that."
"It's our honeymoon, baby," you told her as you narrowed your eyes playfully. "You can't have all the fun." She let out a single breath as a laugh.
"I don't know. I'd say I have been having all the fun so far." She looked at you wordlessly for a moment, a hint of a smile of her face before she cupped your cheek. "You're the one. I hope you always know that."
You smiled and gave her a kiss. "Well, feel free to remind me now and then."
She didn't speak right away, again just taking you in before suddenly her hands were under you and lifting you up. You squealed and wrapped your arms and legs around her as she carried you over to the bed. She set you down and climbed on, moving past you so she was laying on her back.
"On me," she told you. You smirked and crawled up the bed, swinging your leg over her waist and settling yourself on her hips. Your wet core made contact with her skin and she arched an eyebrow smugly at you.
"Like this?" You asked teasingly.
"You fucking know it," she affirmed with a smirk of her own. She gripped your hips and pulled you down against her as she rocked her hips up. "You're ready for me already, baby. Did seeing me cum for you turn you on?"
"You fucking know it did," you returned playfully.
Her eyes were bright as she watched you. She reached down and you lifted your hips to make room for her hand. She dug her head back into the pillow as her fingers slipped through your folds.
"I could never get tired of this. Every time I feel how wet you are for me it's like the first time all over again. God I love you."
"Well, I guess it's a good thing you made me your wife," you said as you ground yourself against her teasing fingers.
You threw your head back, a moan flowing freely from your throat as she sunk her digits into you.
"Say it again," she commanded. You came back to the moment and brought your head back down to look at her. She gazed up at you with hooded eyes.
"I'm your wife," you told her as you rose up on her fingers to the tips and sunk back down.
"You're my wife," she repeated with a satisfied smile, her other hand roaming up your side to cup your breast.
Words ceased as you started riding her. While outside in the pool was somewhat measured and sensual, now the motions were fast and hard as you rode her and she met you with fervour. Your head was thrown back and your needy moans filled the room as she filled you repeatedly to the brim before drawing out and sparking your desire all over again.
"God, you fuck me so good, Jess," you told her as she sent sensation after sensation through you. She grunted in response, eyes transfixed on you, and quickened her movements.
You were nearing your high when she stilled and held your hips in place.
A shameless whimper escaped you and you let your head fall back forward to look down at her in question. She didn't answer, she merely bucked her hips using the momentum to push you off and she shuffled down slightly before guiding you up the bed.
"Jess," you managed to say as she held you above her face.
"I want to taste you," she told you.
"Oh my god," you said, your legs already trembling as you knelt over her.
"I've got you," she said as she braced your thighs with her hands. "Come on, baby. I can take it," she encouraged. "You look fucking amazing from here." Her hands held you and she gently, but firmly pushed you down towards her waiting mouth.
A quick gasp escaped you as she reached up with her tongue.
"Jess, I don't know if I'm going to last long," you warned her. She took this as an invitation and pulled you down into her more fully. She laid her tongue flat on you and gave a few slow, soft licks before delving in.
You gasped again and leaned forward to brace yourself on the headboard. You glanced down to see Jessie, eyes closed, rolling her head side to side as she explored you, sending delicious pulses through your core while her biceps popped as she held you in place.
"Oh my god, Jess," you panted as you began to roll your hips against her tongue. Her grip tightened as she groaned into you.
The sounds of her lapping up your juices and moaning into you were driving you wild. Never mind the sight of her between your legs as she devoured you. You brought one hand down and gripped her hair.
"Jessie," you said as you felt your climax quickly approaching. She embraced it fully as she dug her fingers into your legs and tilted her chin into you.
"Fuck," you cursed as you began to spasm around her. You braced your hand on the wall as your legs threatened to give way.
Jessie held you steadily and moaned in appreciation as your arousal started to drip down her chin. She slowed her actions and gave you some reprieve. For now. You went to move off of her, but she held you in place.
"Baby," you half-pleaded, half-warned. Instead of letting you go, Jessie laid one slow, languid lick from your entrance up to your clit. You released a shaky gasp and your whole body shuddered.
Soon she was slowly lapping at you again and a series of "Oh my god"s fell from your lips as she sent more and more waves of pleasure through you.
She continued her attention and despite how amazing it felt, your legs were shaking and your thighs burned. You were so tired you could barely hold yourself up even with her help.
"Jessie, I can't," you panted.
She relented this time, and she reached up with one hand to brace your back and she rolled you both, somehow keeping her mouth fixed between your legs as she laid you out on your back.
The burning in your thighs was immediately pushed from your mind as Jessie tucked her knees under her, pushed your legs back and leaned her head further into you. You covered your face at the sensations that were rolling through your body and she worshipped you incessantly.
You pushed your head back into the mattress and dug your fingers through your hair as you felt Jessie trace her fingers around your soaking entrance. A heady moan escaped you as she slipped easily inside.
Her strokes were slow and patient as she continued to suck on your clit. You writhed beneath her and soon she lifted her head up, her fingers not missing a beat, as she began to kiss her way up your body. When her lips reached your neck she began to tend to the skin there with slow kisses.
"I love you so much," she said as she gently added a third finger, stretching you further.
"Oh my God, Jessie." Your voice was high with need and you were short of breath as you wrapped your arms and legs around her and clutched her tightly to you. She tucked her free arm under your back and pulled you close as she continued to tenderly stroke in and out of you.
"Y/N," she whispered, her head lolling against yours now, her lips grazing your ear. "I'm going to spend every day making sure you know how much I love you." Her fingers curled inside of you with slow, steady thrusts. "You'll never have to question it."'
Your moans increased and you both tightened your grip on one another. You could feel that coiling sensation deep inside of you building already and you dug your nails into her back.
Her nails dug into you and she teeth sunk into your skin briefly. You felt her back arching over you as she stroked you deeper.
“I can’t wait to keep building my life with you,” she declared, her own body writhing against you as she made love to you.
"If it was up to me," she said, voice husky as she panted above you, "you'd be leaving here with my baby inside of you."
Your mouth fell agape and you tossed your head further back, a shameless moan filling the room.
"Jess." Her name came out of your mouth as a needy whine. "Holy fuck. I'm gonna cum again."
A cry fell from your lips as another orgasm rocked you. You screwed your eyes shut, but it still felt like your vision went hot white. You mindlessly clawed at Jessie's back and she maintained her rhythm, coaxing you through before slowing to a stop and resting inside of you.
Your chest heaved up and down as you struggled to catch your breath. You didn't even realize she was laying soft, faint kisses along your shoulders as she waited for you to come around.
You weren't sure how much time passed before you were able to open your eyes and look at her. There had been other times where she'd pushed you to the absolute brink and you expected her to wear the same cocky look she normally would, but instead she was watching you with pure adoration.
"You're my favourite person in this whole world," she told you with a warm smile. You managed a small laugh.
"And you're mine."
She kissed your cheek and gave you a smirk. "You better get some rest. This is only day one, after all."
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lowgothree · 1 day
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𝐀𝐍𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ━━ ❛ 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄 ❜
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chapter no. 000!          
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𝗈𝗈𝗈.                 ⠀CONTENT : angst-ish. reader is lowk insecure and paige is lowk not good at reassurance (its for the plot trussst)
𝗈𝗈𝗈. ⠀      WORD COUNT : 637
𝗈𝗈𝗈.   ⠀AUTHORS NOTE : lmk if yall like this or not!
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THERE WAS A TIME WHERE PAIGE KISSING YOU, having you underneath her warm lips, was the best thing that could happen to you. you loved how human it was. how natural it felt for her to be on top of you, her body heat engulfing you. whenever you were together; it was like you entered a little bubble…one where only you and her existed. 
but everything is temporary, (including humanity, apparently) because one november night, she had you pinned against her bed and all you can think about is how much you hate the feeling. you’re alone together now, in the private comfort of her apartment. the blinds were drawn shut but it wouldn’t matter because by now midnight had already rolled in and everyone looking in was most likely sleeping. you had her to yourself, finally –– nothing about the setting was unusual, most of the alone time you and paige had was past 11pm. she only loved you in the dark. 
but it wasn’t enough anymore. 
perhaps you had gotten greedy, finding yourself wanting to hold her hand in less private spaces. you’d been with her for months, six to be exact, and yet it felt pointless. she wouldn’t tell anyone. she said she loved you but she couldn’t tell anyone. and it didn’t help that she was possibly the biggest flirt most likely ever. she pulled away, noticing your lack of usual enthusiasm. 
“is something wrong?” three words that jump started the end of the relationship—if you could even call it that. it was inauspicious at best, nonexistent at worst. that was your greatest fear when it came to the two of you––that there was really nothing there. those three, almost dismissive words, completely shattered you. 
you bite your tongue but it’s futile. when you open your mouth again the words escape before you even realize it, much less stop yourself from saying them. “why did you say that?”
“cause you’re being weird and i wanna know what’s up?” she says in an obvious tone, confused as to why you’d even question her motives for trying to know what’s wrong with her girlfriend. 
“no, not that.” you sigh, realizing your vagueness. “earlier.” 
paige’s confused expression doesn’t lift for even a moment, in fact, it seems to increase. 
“to the girl at the shop. when she asked if you had a girlfriend.” you reply simply, annoyed that the situation clearly meant nothing to her when it meant everything to you. at the moment, at least. “you said you weren’t looking for a relationship.”
“well, that’s not exactly a lie.” she’s mostly joking but it’s clear that you didn’t take it that way. your hand, which was running up and down the length of her spine subconsciously, stops abruptly. her words are spoken lightheartedly but they suffocate you.
“i just mean…i’m kinda with you, y’know? so i’m not actively looking.” she doesn’t know why that’s what she chose to say in that moment and those words would prove to haunt her for long after.
“would it kill you to call me your girlfriend?”
she pauses, tensing like she always does whenever you talk labels. her silence is the worst answer. her silence is indifference. she doesn’t care, of course she doesn’t. why would you even expect her to? it was clear she only wanted a good time from you.
so you decided to make this easy for her. by saying what she never ever wanted you to say to her. you sit up, standing from the bed. “i think it’s best if we don’t keep seeing each other.”
she hates how formal you sound. she hates even more how she can’t say anything. she hates how she can’t speak even when you gather your things to leave her. she let you go, too frozen to stop you.
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yuri-is-online · 2 days
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Ranted about this elsewhere already buuuuut . . . Hot take: OB Jamil keeping the reader as a pet/slave is pre-relationship.
Jamil's whole shtick is wanting to free himself from servanthood and getting the equality, freedom, and respect he deserves. Why would he not want that for his lover? Hell one of his biggest insecurities is trapping them with him under the Asims and being unable to give them the life they deserve.
A Jamil who's in a relationship where he 10000% smitten, comfortable, and genuinely open with s/o would rip his own heart out before even thinking of trapping them or seeing them as lesser. This goes double for his overblot (we've seen with the Shround's that it is possible for overblots to do things out of love).
So what doth thou thinketh of this scenario: OB!Jamil who's just finished sending the gang to the middle of the desert having the immediate thought "FUCK YEAH! Now I can finally spoil my beloved!"
OB!Jamil just throwing embarrassment out the window and spoiling the absolute shit out of his lover. I'm talking shameless PDA, no filter whatsoever about how much he loves them, giving them just about anything they could want. Feeling hungry? Here's a feast of your favorite dishes and Jamil is the one feeding you. Little chilly? You're now dressed in enchanted fine silk fit for a queen and cuddled up next him. Worried about your friends out in the desert? Now you get an adorable pouty overblot asking for your attention and making it really hard to say no. Ironically any manipulation he pulls will be the light hearted kind he usual do to get their attention. Also worth mentioning that Jamil is calling them every pet name under the sun while being kissed constantly by the snakes.
Just Overblot Jamil willingly and happily going full malewife mode for his Sultana.
God it will be hard to convince him that overblotting it bad, won't it?
You know I usually have a hard time wrapping my head around Yuu being in a relationship with any of the ob boys pre blot, but the events make it pretty clear that the actual order the blots happen in is pretty flexible σ( ̄、 ̄=) so after squaring that in my head:
Pre-Relationship OB Jamil would want to keep Yuu in a cage because he subconsciously knows they aren't his but he still feels the desire to keep them close. The walls of the cage area physical manifestation of Jamil's emotional repression surrounding his feelings towards Yuu but that's not we're brainrotting about today~
Overblot! Jamil (and just Jamil in general really) is pretty hard to convince that overblotting was a bad idea. Granted he doesn't want to die so yes he'll agree that's bad once he comes to his senses but for now he's really pleased with himself. Finally, he gets to have your attention all to himself and there is no one to judge or interrupt him. He made sure to throw the biggest annoyances across the desert, you can stay right here with him in his embrace exactly where you belong. Being kissed by the snakes is such a cute concept TᴖT He has so many things he's wanted to say, so many many kisses he wanted to give, times he's wanted to touch and hold you that he was never able to do because of his place in the world. I like the idea of Overblot Jamil dancing with Yuu while he sings the sappiest love songs imaginable. Anything to make up for lost time, now that he's free there's so much he can finally give you.
That's what you've wanted this whole time too... right?
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honeyangelkiwi · 2 days
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Bull Riding & Boobies
Plot: Going to the bar and bull riding 🤷🏽‍♀️
Sexual Content: slight exhibitionism, grinding
Word count: 2.5k
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The mechanical bull was throwing him around like he weighed nothing, but he was holding on for dear life, refusing to be tossed off. His hair was pulled into a loose bun on the top of his head. His head was thrown back in laughter, eyes crinkled shut, and with the widest smile on his face.
“I hate physical activity!” He hollered and everyone in the small bar laughed up at him. His friends were chanting for him to get someone up there with him and my friend did not hesitate to try and push me forward.
“No, there’s no way I can get up there with Harry fucking Styles! I can’t even believe we ended up in the same fucking bar as him!” I hiss at her as she still tries to push me forward.
“This is your chance, plus it’s your birthday! Just go!” She laughs at me and gives me a harder shove that actually makes me move forward a couple of steps. I turn around to see if anyone has noticed and, of course, I see one of his friends pointing at me.
Just as I am about to turn around and run for the hills, his head turns my way. The ride had come to a pause and it seems his friend had gotten his attention to turn towards me. I stood frozen, unable to move from his gaze. His eyes were sparked with mischief, adorning a matching smirk.
My best friend started pushing me forward again and all I could do was shake my head. I could see Harry start to laugh as he lifted his pointer finger to motion me over. I guess I didn’t have much of a choice now. I couldn’t say no to the Harry Styles.
I start to walk over, shocked, and face red with heat that could put hell to shame. As I approach, he looks down at me from his spot perched up on the fake bull and smirks once again. “Hope on up, love.” He says and pats the spot in front of him.
Shaking my head a little to clear the chaos and get a bit of confidence back I look up to him and smile sweetly. “Which way do you want me… love? Would you rather look at my chest or my backside?” I question, and wow where did that come from. I look back up at him through my thick lashes and see the shocked look on his face.
I could see how stunned he was, but he soon shook the feeling from himself and his eyes immediately darkened. I was so startled by the quick change that I subconsciously took a step back. With the smirk back on his face he reaches a hand down for me to take and helps me hop on, my back flush with his chest.
“I guess we know you’re an ass man then, Harry Styles.” The words tumble from my lips before my mind could catch up with my mouth. Before I could overthink I turned to look at him with a smirk and see he’s leaning into my ear. “I would say both, but for this specifically, I am definitely an ass man.” He says and I involuntarily shiver from the feeling of his breath cascading down my neck.
I can’t help the way my head falls back into his chest as my eyes flutter shut, the feeling going straight to my core. I feel his hands slide around me, one grasping my hip and the other grasping the handle in front of us.
“Couldn’t pass up the opportunity to have a free ride.” His voice drops lower as his mouth meets the skin just below my ear. Goosebumps rise across my skin understanding what he was implying. Who would have thought he would be so… filthy and straight forward in such a public space and with a stranger.
The grip he has on my waist is burning straight through me. His rings pressed into my skin and I can feel how clammy his hands were from the previous round he did up here. I glance to my side to see my friend staring at us, mouth on the floor. I simply shrugged at her, silently telling her ‘this was your idea.’
She laughs at herself and shakes her head, walking off towards the bar. Knowing her, she’s going to have a round waiting for us when this is over.
Having not been paying attention to the task at hand I jump, startled when the ride slowly starts moving. “Better hold on love, it doesn’t stay this easy.” Harry leans back down to my ear. The hand on my hip slides around my waist and pulls me back, until I am practically sitting on his lap.
I wiggle my hips around a bit to tease him. “You’re in for one hell of a free ride.” I chuckle towards him when I hear the smallest groan fall past his bright, pink lips, wet from licking them.
I still can’t wrap my head around him being so forward with a random girl, but I’m not complaining. I just can’t believe this is actually happening, and to me of all people, and on my birthday. Whatever God people believe in, I’m thanking him.
“I hope this is okay, love. Did I mention how gorgeous you are? I’m glad my friend put my attention on you.” He says into my ear, the bull starting to move around a bit more. His lips move down to my neck and leave a small open-mouthed kiss.
“Mmm, this may sound bad to say to a stranger, but it’s more than okay.” I tell him, moving my neck more to the side to give him more access, hoping he’ll keep up the gentle assault. “I have a feeling this is going to be one hell of a birthday present.” I say.
He pulls back a little to look down at me, eyebrows raised with a surprised look on his face. “Well then, should I wait to tell you happy birthday before or after your present?” If I wasn’t on this contraption my thighs would be pressed so tight together. The suggestion in his tone is fogging my brain. “How about after.” I tell him.
Just as he was about to respond the machine jerked particularly hard and sent my backside grinding right into his lap. I let out a gasp, only now realizing the hardness pressed up against me. The fact that I was wearing a dress that ended up laid out over the both of us instead of underneath my bottom made it easy to feel everything… and there was definitely a lot to feel.
“Jesus fuck.” He groaned out, head dropping to my shoulder. The machine continued to jerk around some more. It was both sending my ass back into his center and whipping us around like ragdolls. It somehow managed to be perfectly balanced, riling us both up some more.
I can feel how sweaty he is behind me. His arms coated in a thin sheen, glowing in the darkened room. It's coating through his shirt enough that I can feel it on my back, and it may seem weird, but I can’t wait to get a taste. His grip tightens on my waist briefly and I turn to look at him questioningly, only to see his gaze focused solely on my chest.
I can tell he wasn’t lying about being a boobs and ass guy, because if we weren’t up here right now, based on the look on his face, it would be buried into my chest. I can’t help but groan thinking of those diamond shaped lips wrapped around my nipples, sucking and biting them. I can see him teasing his hand down into my panties and praising how wet I was for him from a simple touch.
Still not believing that I was quite literally on Harry Styles fucking lap I glance around the small bar and see that no one is actually paying attention to us up here. I would assume it was because there weren’t many people here to begin with.
Suddenly, Harry’s arm that was around my waist lets go, and for a split second I panicked knowing I would go flying off if he wasn’t holding on. But just as quickly as he let go, he was grabbing onto me again, except this time his arm went under my dress to hold on to me.
“Still okay, love?” He asks, and I can’t lie, my heart fluttered at the way he was caring enough to make sure I was okay with everything. I tell him yes, and I can’t deny how turned on I am that he’s doing this. Turned on by the fact that anyone can look over at us and see his hand under my dress and the looks on our faces and know exactly what’s happening up here.
With another quick look around I turn and glance at him. His eyes are black, no longer green, the lust is pouring from him and the second we make eye contact the tension between us skyrockets. Deciding to take this further I pick up the rhythm of the ride, grinding back into him in time with the machine.
Aside from his hand being under my dress, from the outside it simply looks like we’re successfully maneuvering our way on this beast, not teasing each other up here. “You gonna come with me when we’re done up here?” He quite literally moans in my ear. His voice is several tones deeper, raspy, and laced with need.
“As long as you want me to. Nothing more I’d wa…” I couldn’t control the moan that fell from my mouth. The cheeky fucker decided it was the pefect time to take the hand that was holding onto me and move it to my core. He wasn’t shy at all, because he full on pulled my panties to the side and swiped his fingers from my entrance to my clit, stopping to rub a small circle.
My head fell forward as I gasped for air, shocked he was bold enough to do that up here. He pulled his hand back and I couldn’t stop the whine that fell from my lips, needing more than just the small, tantalizing touch.
“Harry, don’t fucking tease me. If you’re gonna touch me then do it and don’t stop.” I snap at him, turning my head in his direction, frustrated with the teasing. I wanted to slap the smirk right off of his face. “So fucking needy baby, don’t worry. I’ll take care of that ache between your legs. Get your belly in that feeling I know you’re craving right now.” And Christ does his filthy mouth make the wetness between my legs pool even more.
He glances around for a second before he suddenly grabs my hair and pushes me down so that my chest is flat against the ride. As soon as he does the machine starts jerking very violently, sending his hardness right up into my center with each movement.
It takes everything in me not to moan out, because every movement pushes him straight into my clit. The roughness of his jeans is very noticeable through my thin underwear. Being up here is doing nothing but sending us both spiraling and I can’t wait to get off. It seems like we’ve been up here for hours, but it couldn't have been more than two minutes.
There’s no way people don’t know what’s happening here. It takes one glance at us to see me bent over, face and chest flush against the bull, Harry’s hands wrapped in my hair and around my waist, and his hips driving into me at a sickening pace. If there weren’t clothes separating us his cock would be driving straight into the spot I crave him the most.
Harry bends over so his mouth hits my ear, moaning absolute filth to me while his hips continue driving into me. “If there weren’t people around right now love I would have my cock so deep in you you’d feel me up in your tummy. I can feel how wet you are, soaking me through my pants, gonna make it look like I came for you up here. Wanna have you bent over a counter right now so you can watch me in the mirror, fucking you so good I have to hold you up.” I can only moan, feeling myself clench around nothing.
“Fuck baby, I can feel you tryna squeeze me.” He moans, his face so close to my mouth that I can’t help but to reach out and kiss him. Only we both get thrown from the ride and I’m scrambling to keep my dress covering myself.
I catch my breath for a minute and glance over at Harry who is smirking down at his pants. There is, in fact, a wet spot right where we were attached and, although I’m still very turned on, I can’t help the need to look down, letting my hair fall across my face as a curtain to hide the embarrassment.
“Don’t be shy now, love. We’re just getting started.” He says and holds a hand out to help me up. He starts leading me away from the ride towards the bathrooms and if I wasn’t so turned on from the ride I would have refused, but it’s Harry Styles and I am turned on. So, to the bathroom we go.
I glance over my shoulder for my friend and catch her eye. The look she’s giving me let’s me know she saw what just happened and can’t fucking believe it either. I gave a shrug and waved my hand at her letting her know she can leave without me if she wants. She nods and then shakes her head laughing while leaving. Right before we walk into the bathroom she hollers happy birthday to me across the bar. Fortunately, no one was paying attention or everyone would see me walking in here with a guy.
Luckily, this is a single bathroom and it isn’t occupied. He swiftly locks the door and grabs my waist, shoving me into the door with just enough force that it’s still attractive. His lips are on my neck in an instant. “You looked so good bent over for me out there, love.” and he pulls back slightly to finally smash his lips onto mine………
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ohbabydollie · 1 day
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Need more jschlatt w a latían baddie (never knew I needed this kind of representation:,)
I’m actually Latina!! I tried looking for schlatt x latina! Reader and I could never find any so I was like if they don’t do it I will! (Not to mention he can literally speak spanish + his interactions n friendship w/quackity are so cute)
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he starts picking up slang that you use and inserting it into conversation casually
like to the point he subconsciously uses it and has to explain it to whoever doesn’t understand
he makes fun of your accent
in english or in spanish and will use it until you notice he’s making fun of you
loves slapping your ass, especially in flared leggings
shows it off to chat every single chance he is given
“see that chat? that’s what a real woman looks like”
“i hate to see her go but i love to see her leave”
if you’re a cc/influencer, schlatt’s fans end up also going to you
yk those baddies that are also into nerd shit? like megan thee stallion
if you’re one of those, people ask him how he got so lucky
they call him your white boy
he loves recording you on saturday mornings before you have makeup on
you’re sitting on the bed watching some show, anime, etc. that you’ve recently been into while eating cereal wearing one of his hoodies
you block the camera telling him “no pictures before you have your face on”
he thinks your bare face is so cute
if you have/had braces he loves bringing it up
if you wear glasses he likes to hide them or take secret pictures of you wearing them
buys you jewelry if you’ve been talking about getting a specific one for a while
if you tell him you’re going out he makes sure to slip you a few hundreds and tells you to enjoy yourself for him
if he ever had to compete with other guys for you he makes sure everyone knows why he got chosen in the end
he’s always super romantic with you, buying you gifts and getting you flowers
from time to time people find videos off of someone’s facebook of the two of you dancing at a party
sometimes he’ll hear the door open when you get back home and he leaves the chat alone for a bit and comes back with some food and a glossy kiss mark on his cheek
if he dares to wipe it off and you see it on stream you go in and kiss all over his face
likes to do a bit where you’re being “toxic”
secretly enjoys it when you yell at him and get mad because you can’t be mad at him too long
says stupid shit to you in spanish all the time while he’s on stream
he annoys the fuck outta you sometimes but you still love your stupid gringo
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I've got one for ya. What were the first kisses in the N/V/Uzi relationship like. Uzi and N first, Uzi and V's first, and V and N's first.
(Bonus points for V and N's first kiss at the manner for some bittersweet angst)
Also, good golly gumdrops, love your stuff, even if you don't answer this one, still gonna keep enjoying
oh oh i love these kinds of ideas :"D tho it takes a bit of brain power to think of a good scene uhm.... lessee....
Ok so first up, although im still waiting for a canon first kiss for NUzi- since they are a thing now, i still like to think of something separate for my own version- [since obviously the main show isn't going towards a poly dynamic lmao]
See, we all know that the show is fast paced and its hard to find any empty spaces between each event, hell it almost feels like earth was blown apart and the DDs were on copper 9 the next day, Liam we need a fucking timeline order. 🙄 soooooo i personally like to imagine that there's a lot more time between events than is shown in the actual show. like- lets maybe put a few days between Uzi administrating N and V and the arrival of J and Cynessa- like.... maybe lets put a few NIGHTS between that??? what's the freaking rush 😭
But anyway yeah- i would put the first NUzi kiss somewhere around betwenn the camp and the flashback eps probably :p my idea would be that since the camp incidents, Uzi would be having a lot of bodily changes to deal with, one of which being her inability to tolerate the sun much anymore. other things would probably be the growth of literal flesh and blood and bones inside of her and lets make this morbid by adding her throwing up blood but keeping it a secret from everyone :p she may sneak back to the other two at night and stay with them- clearly shaken up- [V probably also being shaken up because on one hand she's terrified of seeing this transformation take place- but at the same time, she clearly cares enough about Uzi AND Ns happiness...] asking for help and advice- and the 3 grow closer during this. They practice with her for flying or controlling her tail- maybe some stuff on her control on oil hunger too. she probably also gets some fighting, sneaking and sparring practice with V-
//insert one of those cheesy moments where V riles up Uzi enough to tag her on the snowy ground but then realizes its the same position she got V in her solver!mode and starts panicking and pushing herself back- V getting back up and asking what the heck was that and Uzi just saying she doesn't want to hurt her and V is an insensitive jerk for making her spar with her in the first place and tries to fly away to calm down-..... which probably just ended with her falling face first in the snow and a lecture from both N and V.
overall they all started subconsciously getting even closer. tbh there's so many things i could add here but i gotta keep it a few NIGHTS not a few MONTHS until the next event 😭
either way during this i guess N and Uzi could have maybe ended up alone at some point- maybe after a flying lesson having gone right and they were a little too happy on top of a building or upturned bus or something lol- i imagine after a hug maybe Uzi asks if she could kiss N but quickly backtracks saying nvm it was stupid or something but N softly says its okay- //probably picks her up too, adding to her embarrassment- cuz she's short lmaooooo// and Uzi just decides to give a small unsure smooch- but decided to make it not too long. they decided to just hug after that to not let the other see them blushing like hell 😭 [also they didn't really decide anything after this cuz they are idiots????😭😭😭]
but anyway for the Vuzi first kiss i have no idea if or when V would return if she's been set to remain alive in the canon- but for me its probably when she appears again in her normal form, as herself. not a clone. Alice isn't alive to take the cores and make them sluggish with heat and the sentinels wouldn't have a chance against the solvers centipede lookin ass form.
Anyway if we consider that one way or another Uzi, N and V will meet up again, [and N and Uzi preferably get to share a better kiss this time-] the first thing Uzi is doing is landing a swift punch in Vs face and then kissing the daylights out of her- //confusing herself and everyone in the area in the process including V herself...// overall she would scold V on the whole "i trust you" shtick and leaving them alone- but yeah :p [ keep in mind that im also considering a few nights between when J and Cynessa show up and when they decide to actually go and find and search the labs, because PLOT REASONS :D ]
as for the first Envee kiss- ill do you one better and make it more angsty and say that N and V used to always spend time with each other and do silly things like hold hands in secret or send internal chat messages to eachother, draw and read books together- maybe N used to put flowers for her sometimes. But at some point a certain little corrupted drone started feeling possessive of her favorite "big brother" figure not spending time with her anymore...
one time, N had asked V if he could kiss her and at that they were both blushing messes but before V could respond they get interrupted- maybe by someone giving them orders or maybe by Cyn. either way, V quickly whispers to him "later, i promise" with a smile, making N happy and giddy. but the later never comes... V becomes comatose soon after... N sadly reading books to her and sometimes whispering to her to wake up and that she still has to keep her promise...
anyway after all things are said and done in the future and the solver is defeated- whether they are still living on copper 9 or any other planet idk- N, V and Uzi are all close, but since both N and V are close to Uzi, they also start spending more time with each other too. maybe one time on a walk or going out and about N was able to catch up with V and they reminisce about old memories they can now remember; and when V was finally able to open up a bit to N, he mentions that he still remembers the promise and asks her if he could kiss her again and she lets him.
and thaaaats all the brain power i have for tonight... i think... hope it made yall smile or cry or idk something lmao. :")
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shadowandlightt · 15 hours
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Of Nightmares and Memories | Twelve | Azriel x Rhys' Little Sister! Reader
Series Warnings: Kidnapping. Mistreatment. Cursing. Pining. Violence. Depression. Talks of suicide. Eventual smut
Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight Part Nine Part Ten Part Eleven
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You laughed as you walked through the forest with your mother and Michaa, your maid. Though, you almost could have believed she was your father’s bastard daughter. In another life, maybe she could have been your sister. You were on your way to meet Rhys, before continuing on to the War Camps to the north. 
You hated The Illyrians and their prejudice, but you loved your brother, Cassian, and Azirel. Although you weren’t sure if you’d see Az or Cass on this trip. It’d been too long since you’d laid eyes on them though, and you were aching to feel their arms around you. 
“How much further?” You groan, dropping your wings slightly, “Can’t we just fly?” 
“You know the winds are too strong today, my love,” your mother informs you softly, “I think we’d all father fly anyway, you know how much Michaa loves it.” 
The young woman only grinned and turned her eyes towards the sky. She was Illyrian too. Wings unclipped thanks to having been born in Valaris. Why she wasn’t in Illyria you weren’t sure, but you were glad to have her. Your life wouldn’t be nearly as fun without her by your side for all of the trouble you caused. 
You close your eyes for a moment and reach your power out, focusing on the soft shadows that lurked by the trees. You weren’t as good at commanding them as Azriel, but you had a small kernel of that power dwelling inside you. Something your father knew nothing about. 
I’m coming, you willed them to say. Before searching for their master. You felt his mental shields, just as strong and powerful as he. You stroked down those shields, gently, sensually. Begging for entrance to his mind. 
I’m in a meeting, his voice fills your mind. 
I plan on sneaking into your tent this weekend.
And you swear you can hear him groan. Not in frustration, but in wanting. You can feel it rippling through his mind. You smile down at your feet, heat rising in your cheeks. You knew the effect you had on him, just as he knew the effect he had on you. You were playing a dangerous game. 
Your father would likely kill Az if he ever found out. Which is why you had to get good at sneaking in the shadows, using them to conceal you from prying eyes. You were a quick study though, and was beginning to master the skill. Az was always proud of you when you manages it. 
Don’t get me in trouble today, he warns, although not sounding very convincing, I doubt the Lords would like it very much if I start smelling like I want you as badly as I do. 
You pause, nearly tripping over a fallen log. Your mother gives you a knowing smile, seeming to understand who you’re talking to. She only knew because she once caught Az sneaking out of your rooms just before dawn. Her and Rhys had been out flying all night and were just returning. She only smiled and turned around, wishing you both a goodnight as she went. 
I doubt my brother would like it very much. 
Minx. 
But you can hear the laugh in his voice. It fills your head and your chest, filling the void that always seems to be there when Azirel is not near. You rub your chest subconsciously, feeling that void a little more today knowing you’ll be seeing him in just a few short hours. 
“Rhys will winnow us to the camps, won’t he?” You ask your mother. 
“Yes dear, he’ll winnow you and Michaa first and then come back for me,” She tells you once more. 
I want everything with you, Az. 
I want it all too. 
You smile to yourself, knowing he meant it. If only your father wasn’t the male that he was, maybe you’d be allowed to follow your heart. Free to love whoever you wished. Not be sold for breeding when the time came. But you were still young, only eighteen. Marriage was still a good while away, thanks to your mother convincing him you still had growing up to do. She was right in some ways. 
“Pay attention to where you’re walking, Y/N,” your mother warned you, “Your Shadowsinger will still be there once we reach our meeting point.” 
You blush ferociously, heat flooding your cheeks so much that it radiated from them. Michaa smiled and let out a little laugh. She knew too, of course. You two sat up late most nights, when you weren’t out flying together, and talked about the Shadowsinger and just how wonderful he truly is. 
He’d seen such darkness already in his life, but yet his smile was still so beautiful it took your breath away. Sometimes that smile was reserved only for you. Sometimes you felt as if you were the only fae alive that got to see it, and you were okay with that. With the thought that he only smiled for you, and sometimes Cassian and Rhys. They were his bastard brothers after all. You were different though, you’d never seen him as a brother. From the moment you met him, as young as you were, you knew he was destined to be something else to you. You could already feel that strange tug in your chest, pulling you towards him. 
I’ll see you soon, you promise him, sending images of the two of you curled up together into his mind. 
You can practically feel him smiling against your skin, can practically feel him against you. You bite your lip, trying to regain control. But he seems to caress you in his mind, making you go weak in the knees. 
You pull away from his mind, noting how he seems to leave a small spot open just for you to return whenever you feel like it. You smile to yourself as you continue to walk. You wished you were strong enough to winnow more than one person, so you could just winnow to the camps and be done with this walking. 
But you weren’t far from the halfway point where you were supposed to meet Rhys. You would probably have to wait on him, seeing as he was apparently in the middle of training a new unit, but he would come for you one way or another. And he would take you to Azriel, whether he wanted to do so or not. 
But the shadows swirled around you as you reached a clearing. Your mother and Michaa falling silent. The whole world fell silent it seemed like. The shadows swirled, reaching your ears as you sniffed the air around you. 
Run, they said, run far and run fast. 
“Mother?” You question, smelling several distinctly male scents lingering in the air. 
She didn’t get the chance to reply before an arrow shot through her wings, causing her to scream out. You screamed too, seeing a flash of blonde hair in your vision, before arms came around you. Your wings vanished, too afraid of what might happen to them. But your mother, Cauldron, your mother’s wings. 
They grabbed Michaa next, holding a blade to her throat. You felt the cold steel kiss your own neck as lips caressed your ear. 
“Don’t scream,” He said into your ear, “Or I’ll slit your throat.” 
You swallow thickly. Fear gripping every part of you. You forgot the training Cassian and Rhys and Azirel drilled into you. Forgot that you weren’t a helpless little girl, that you had powers too. But all you could think of was the fear that gripped you and the smell of blood, your mother’s blood. And the realization that you were going to die, one way or another. 
You wake with a start, jolting up in your bed before hurtling yourself into the washroom nearby. You empty your stomach over and over again, before the sound of your bedroom door makes you stop. Cassian is by your side in an instant, rubbing your back. 
“I have them too,” He confirms, “Every night.” 
“I’m sorry I woke you,” You say softly, feeling the nausea fade. 
“I was already awake,” He sighs, sitting down on the floor across from you, leaning against the bath, “I heard you scream.” 
“It was that day,” You confide in him, “In the woods.” 
“We don’t have to talk about it,” He tells you slowly, “I don’t want you to have to relive it.” 
“I relive it every day. Everytime I close my eyes, it’s there.” 
His eyes soften at you. He reaches a hand out for you to take. He’d been too far away that day to get anywhere near you. He couldn’t have made it even if Rhys called for him. He didn’t know it happened until it was too late. He made it to the clearing not long after Azirel and Rhys, having flown as quickly as he possibly could. 
“It was Lucien,” You spoke after a long while, “I slept with Lucien.”
“You don’t have to tell me,” He replies softly, “You did what you had to do to survive.” 
“I did it to survive,” You agree, in your own way trying to convince yourself, “It kept Tamlin from darkening my door.” 
He sighs deeply, knowing you’d been through more than any of them. You watch as he gets to his feet, wings tucked in tight, and holds a hand out for you, “C’mon, let’s get you back in bed.”
You take his hand and allow him to pull you up before slowly walking you to your large bed. Big enough to accommodate wings, you realized. Big enough for more than one winged person. You had a lump in your throat, because once upon a time that was all you could’ve asked for. 
You climbed into your bed, allowing Cassian to pull the covers up over you before he walked to the other side and crawled in. 
“What are you doing?” 
“Not leaving you alone,” He said gruffly, curling his arms around your stomach and pulling you to him, “We all know you slept better when Az was in your bed, but seeing as he’s at The House of Wind, being an ass, I’ll just have to do.” 
You swallow and nod. Trying to fight the blush on your cheeks at his admission. You knew, of course, that he knew about you and Az. He hadn’t made his knowing very secret over the years. But was always smart enough to lose his tongue whenever your father was around. 
Now he didn’t have to worry about that. Your father was dead. You didn’t mourn him the way you mourned your mother. You didn’t feel the need to mourn him in that way. He wasn’t a loving man. He was the opposite of your mother. 
“Why won’t you fly?” Cass asked softly. 
“It hurts too much to try and summon my wings now,” You tell him honestly. It seemed that tonight would be the night to let all of your secrets go. 
“Hurts too-” 
You cut him off by rolling over onto your front, your nightgown cut low enough in the back to reveal two long scars stretching down your back. You know the moment Cass saw them, because he went rigid and sucked in a deep breath. He reached out, fingers carefully brushing the top of the scars. 
“Hurts in more than one way,” You confirm, “Emotionally, and physically. The scars are thick, right where the wings should be.”
“You didn’t heal?”
“Faebane.” 
He rolls you back over so you’re on your back now. You refuse to look up at him, refuse to meet his eyes. You can feel him staring at you though, you can almost feel his emotions rolling off of him in waves. 
You shake your head and roll back over on your side, “I’m tired.”
You feel him nod behind you before wrapping you back up in his arms. You melt into his arms, missing the feeling of being held by someone. Maybe that’s why you turned to Lucien all of those years ago. He was there and he was in pain too, and needed someone to help him move on. He was sweet and gentle and not at all like his ruthless brothers, or Tamlin. 
It just seemed to work between the two of you. There was no love between you, no true feelings. It was physical, and that was it. He would occasionally try to go to bat for you against Tamlin, but much like how he was with Feyre, he would never really push his friend for fear of what would happen. 
You fall asleep quickly, and do not dream again. 
 You wake in the morning to the sound of a door opening and a low growl. Fear rips through you and you refuse to move. Even as arms retract from around you, even as the male next to you sits up in the bed. 
“You don’t get the option of being mad,” you almost let out a sigh of relief at Cassian’s voice. 
You were in the Night Court, you were safe. 
“You’re in her bed,” Azriel growls. 
“All because you weren’t here,” Cassian shrugs, or you assume he does, “She needed you, and you were sulking because she did what she had to in order to survive.” 
“You know nothing about what she did,” Az growls again. 
“They carved her back,” You feel Cassian shudder in the bed, “Two long lines, right where her wings should be, like they carved her up trying to get to them.” 
You wanted to tell them that he was right. That’s exactly what they did. They carved you up like a piece of meat trying to find your beloved wings. The thought made you want to vomit again. But you refused, you refused to let them see you like that again. 
“Get out of her bed.”
“Brother, you know I’m only here to help her,” Cassian said softly, “She needed someone. Preferably you, but I made do.” 
The bed dipped as Cassian got up, leaning over long enough to brush a kiss on your forehead. It’s a simple gesture, but he’d been doing it since you were a small child, maybe even before then. 
“It was Lucien Vanserra,” Cassian said softly at the door, “Which I thank the Mother for. Because at least he still had a heart, before Amerantha came. For all he’s worth, he was a good male, once upon a time.” 
Azirel growls again and shuts the door in Cassian’s face. Az’s shadows make their way towards you, curling around your body as Az slowly moves closer. You know they’ll tell him that you’re awake, but maybe he’ll ignore them and let you continue this farce. 
“I’m sorry,” He said pulling a chair up to the edge of your bed, “I should have handled things better yesterday.”
You finally peel your eyes open to see him leaning over, hands folded on your bed. You want to reach for those hands, those beautifully scarred hands. You wanted to kiss them again, like you used to do all those years ago. But it didn’t feel right anymore. 
“I shouldn’t have said what I did,” You admit, “It was wrong of me. I aimed to hurt you, and that’s something I promised I’d never do.” 
His head shook slowly, “I hurt you too. I promised I wouldn’t let you go. And instead I turned my back on you the second you said something I didn’t like.”
You prop yourself up on your elbows and reach over to brush a few strands of hair out of his eyes. You missed his eyes, so telling to you and cold to everyone else. The Shadowsinger of the Night Court, violent, cold, and deadly, yet so soft and warm to you. 
“I love you, Azriel,” You admit softly, feeling his shadows gather on your back. 
You knew what they were doing, even if he didn’t, but you didn’t try to stop them. He would want to see them eventually. But not this morning. Not when you already felt so laid bare in front of him. 
“I know you do,” He leans forward to kiss you, “I love you too. C’mon, Rhys said he should be back today. And Mor is waiting downstairs to eat breakfast with us.” 
So you find yourself sipping on coffee and eating a rich pastry with Mor when Rhys, and a very soaking wet Feyre and Amren slam into the floor of the living room. You all shoot to your feet. Moving towards the three quickly. 
“What the hell happened?” You questioned. 
“I’d like to know the same thing,” Rhys stated. 
“Did you get it?” Is all Mor can think to say. 
“Get what?” Your head rips to her and then back to Rhys. 
“Nothing.”
“No!” You yell, “Not nothing! Obviously not nothing. What happened in Summer?” 
And then you hear it, you hear the book.
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ruershrimo · 2 days
Text
take me back (take me with you) | f. megumi x fem! reader | chapter 6: beginning
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ao3 link for additional author’s notes | playlist | prev
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chapter synopsis:
'“Why else do you think I am the way I am? I may be shy and scatterbrained, or a horrible woman with a muddled sense of morality or what I think should and should not happen, when in reality it’s just what I want to happen. But this is why I’m so resolute, and so stubborn. This is why I love you so fiercely. All mothers are like that to some degree, even if my own would never let me bear witness to it.”
You haven’t told her you love her too in years.'
'And Itadori seems… like a good person. I think it’s good, that… you were able to find a friend like that.”
“It was. He’s a really, really good guy.”
“You love him a lot,” Megumi says.
---
You and Megumi set out to prevent an emergency involving Yuuji and a cursed object. Unfortunately, that doesn't happen. But at least everyone is fine in the end, even if it means you'll have to walk away from almost everything (or maybe it's the other way around).
You're going to be all on your own. Still, now it seems like this will hurt less now.
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word count: ~8k; tws: none for now :)
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17-6-2018 
The two of you walk down the lane. It’s midnight. There’s a loitering silence in the air, no words exchanged between you and him, and it twists your heart in brief moments of hurt when you’re not trying to keep your mind occupied with other things. Your legs move subconsciously without you caring to think of them, the route to the hospital ingrained in your mind as if intrinsically there. 
At some point, you think your hand with its sweat and its grip is going to leave imprints like a marring on his skin, but it’s of your own selfishness that you choose to hold onto his wrist anyway. 
There’s a million things you could say to him right now, things you’ll forcefully push to the very back of your throat, things you’ll keep under lock and key in a mangled mix of quiet anticipation and sombre anxieties. Right now you’re holding his wrist and that’s enough for you, to have him walking behind you if not beside, to be two people near each other— not together— in silence since any conversation is not an option; any conversation could lead to the last spark needed to be fanned into the flame for it to erupt bigger and brighter than ever before. 
If you asked about Tsumiki right now, or why either of them never bothered to speak to you since 2016, it could break you apart, of that you’re sure. And even without words it threatens to do so to you like a chandelier of melting wax candles hanging above you being suspended precariously from the ceiling or light lightning soon to be thrown down mercilessly from the sky. 
“The turning to Sendai Hospital is on the right.” 
“I know the routes better,” you let out, and rather disappointingly it sounds brasher and more derogatory aloud instead of the unobtrusive tone you were aiming for— you hope it doesn’t hurt him but then wonder why you still even cared that much about how he felt about what you said or did anyway, “I got myself accustomed to taking the one on the left that leads you through. Quick shortcut and all.” 
You’re not looking back, but the light pull of his hand from the hold of your wrist seems to suggest his slight reeling back in a small sense of surprise and an equal amount of shock, as if suddenly remembering the fact you were your own person, that you had your own autonomy as one, because somehow everyone thought you weren’t. 
It’s strange to look back at how you were before: meek, timid. Too shy to speak up. Too innocent to be angered by anything. Always dreaming, mind bleary as if on a cloud in blurred skies, hiding behind the backs of others like a petrified forest critter. 
And now you’re this— this person who frowns and disagrees and retorts at every little thing, and as much as you have to, as much as it was nearly inevitable the way you turned out, all you can think you share with the person you were when you first met Megumi and Tsumiki was your need to be useful— and even that has been exacerbated by how you’ve grown, how you’ve become this person you grew into. And a part of you— no, just you as a whole— doesn’t like yourself at all. 
Your father was right. That little girl was hopeful, obedient, kind, caring— you don’t know why even then you were dissatisfied with the way you were, or why your dissatisfaction would matter because at that time you’d cared so little about everything besides caring for people and having fun with the pair of siblings that you were so rarely bothered by it, that it was still just a slight whisper from the back of your head that could be shushed or tuned out with library visits and nights in front of the TV and the glow of old cartoons. Your father was right and this is proved even more by the fact that the whole situation just infuriates you on the surface, and just makes you feel like an empty, hollow shell left behind when you reach deeper into yourself. 
That little girl had potential, potential to be useful but kind, obedient and close to the people who raised her even if it meant abandoning her own ideals. But you’d been so devoted to them, you think, that she was killed and destroyed in the world she grew up in, and now there’s a space for her that’s left vacant due to the way she wasted away. You miss her, the girl you once were, you miss being her, how easy and lighthearted everything was and how all of you felt so content in every sense of the word. But you don’t want her back. Now that’s just what makes you miserable sometimes. 
Self-reflection just made you feel revolted by yourself. You keep your eyes on the road. 
“It’s here,” you state, pointing at the building in front of you. 
Sendai General Hospital is an institution made out of bare concrete. Its walls are yellowed and close in on its wards like a prison, coloured using old paint that hasn’t been repainted over and is as pallid-looking as the skin of the people sitting on the beds it is inhabited by. Just being in it feels like a hit to the body and the brain and the senses, too. There are old-fashioned tiles on its floors, their pale beige hue muted yet the blinding shine on them harshly mopped clean. Inside it reeks of an imminent presence of sickness or death or illnesses and conditions never to be able to be defeated and sterile sanitisers. Looking at the latex-blue curtains in it feels like a blindfold unwantedly, forcefully pulled over both your vision and your ears. 
“You and that Itadori seem close.” 
“We are,” you say, then you add, not really knowing why, “He’s my best friend.” Maybe you’re trying to make him jealous, rile him up a bit. But even then you wouldn’t want him to be riled up, nor would you be satisfied if he were to keep silent. Maybe you just wanted to hurt him, to hurt him back or something, if only for something small, even if you’d already resolved not to do so. 
You’ll make sure not to do that again, though. 
Instead he does something else, takes another route instead. “Then it seems you visit his grandfather often.” 
“Uh-huh,” you nod as the two of you enter the hospital, and you have to blink a few times as always in order to adjust yourself to the light and how it reflects off the detachedly clean floor. “My mother’s here, too.” 
“Oh, I’m sorry— is she alright?” 
“She’s okay, I… think. She… she got sick a while back and stays here now,” you explain, “Let’s not talk about that…—I mean, I… don’t really want to.” 
“I’m sorry.” 
“You don’t have to keep saying that.” It just makes people feel worse. 
He doesn’t push further and you suppose that’s okay. Your chest hurts a bit, like phantom pain on a wound that’s still there. There’s not really a way to explain it but almost everything makes you feel that way these days. Everything makes you feel horrible to some degree. Maybe it’s being a girl, maybe it’s being a teenager, but it’s not quite either, you guess. 
“He won’t be here for a while,” you say, “He’s either still in the room where his grandfather is or he’s buying flowers for him.” 
“Then I’ll just contact them and let them know the whole situation first.” 
Who’s ‘them’? 
“Okay.” You turn your back on him, “—wait.” 
“What?” 
“Do you have any emergency contact or something? Like, a trusted adult who could help you with any of this? In case things go really bad?” 
“...why would you need one?” he questions. 
You roll your eyes, “Just give it to me, damn it… if there’s anything I have nowadays, it’s probably foresight for stuff like this. For emergencies.” 
He gives you the number, albeit a bit begrudgingly. Why’d he have to be so pissy about anything and everything? 
“Okay, thanks. I’m going to visit my mother now.” 
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The air and the colour from it seems distant as always, the ward she was basically imprisoned in smelling of the indistinguishable mix of sanitiser and sickness. There her body chains her to her bed, and there is little she can do besides rely on and weakly cling to the nurses who assist her, a frail shadow of what she once was. 
“Hi, Mummy.” 
She turns to you, and your chest constricts. Her hair, once much longer, the type that you dreamed to have as it billowed in the wind, the type that invited you caressively to bury yourself in and take in that heady scent of roses that emanated from it— that hair is now replaced with a cloth wrapped around her head. Radiation. Chemotherapy. 
The wrinkles on her face make the difference between her now and her years ago all the more stark. Every visit you come back here, you’ve forced yourself to be acclimated to this new reality, one where she isn’t waiting at home no matter how tedious the fights get or how exhausting it was eating with someone who remained silent, someone who chose to continue suffering if it meant she could hurt and turn her daughter to guilt (as if that would change anything). At least she was there. 
Cancer is a terminal illness, especially the type your mother is facing— regardless of how much chemotherapy she would struggle through and how much you didn’t want to acknowledge a truth so plain and conspicuously bare, she would be confined to this bed until her final days, her illness like gyves tying her limbs and forcing her earthbound; the bed a cage she could never be liberated from. 
Sometimes she made it a point to you that she didn’t want to liberate herself from it anyway, and you’d never been so depressed yet irked by anything else. (You’d regret everything— not spending time with her, not appreciating her nearly enough— except for your decision to be involved in the Jujutsu world, if not as a sorcerer then as a doctor. That was, and is— your ultimatum. Your end all be all of this whole situation.” 
“Hello. Where’s that Itadori boy?” 
“Not here today, he’s still with his grandfather— maybe later.” You swing your bag over your shoulder, rummaging through it a while before pulling it out. “I’ve something for you, by the way.” 
“Oh! These,” she exclaims, and she smiles faintly, bits of colour rushing back to her face like watercolour dots on moistened paper. “I used to make them for you, sometimes. They used to be your favourite when you were really little.” 
“I know,” you explain, “That’s why I made them. I don’t like them anymore, but… I can’t remember your favourite food or if I ever asked, and I know you don’t like the food they give you here as much as… I don’t know. Your own cooking, I guess.” 
“It’s not my favourite,” she states, matter-of-factly, bluntly, “But thank you for the effort. My favourite will always be my own mother’s cooking.” 
Silence. 
“Now that I look back at everything, there are so many things I regret. Things I should have done but never did out of fear; things I should not have done and never apologised for out of pride. I’d like it if you could be different. Your grandmother went out the same way. At least, even if you had the same illnesses as we did, which I hope the genes for which have been curbed by your father’s— at least you would not leave the world with regret,” she looks down at her hands, staring down at them solemnly like a shadow, an excluded figure. “But it was a good life.” 
“...then maybe you can tell me more. While you— while we still have time. What was your childhood like? What was your mother like?” It feels strange, imposturous, maybe— to be referring to someone basically a stranger as “grandmother”, to name someone so far away from you so intimate, even if the only generation between you, tying the two of you together, was your mother’s. If you had a daughter it would be the same for her, most likely. There’s a part of you that would find honour in becoming your mother once you’d grown, but there’s a part of you that would think being such would accost you horribly, for all time. 
She sighs, “I’ll tell you later. There would be so much to say, like compressing all my words into one tiny paper. The stories have weight in them the same way letters and words in handwriting can be firm and large. But if I were to start,” she begins, “I’ll say that I was born as the daughter of two very powerful sorcerers. Now, I know how much this would sound like some nonsense spouted by your mother, but I think you should listen anyway. 
“My parents loved each other a lot, but my mother had come from an obscure clan whose name I can’t remember, but who had high hopes in them having a child with a powerful cursed technique as their last resort, since, if I recall correctly, there had been a crisis within the clan for it to keep surviving. 
“I still remember when they found out I had no cursed technique and how terrified they were. In me I had a bit more than the relatively normal amount of cursed energy most people have, and so I was expected to have techniques as powerful as they did. They loved me and treated me preciously, like a fragile object, so long as I was quiet and demure— and I guess to some extent I still was and still am today. They wondered what they could do to run from the clan, as if they didn’t have enough power when they were supposed to protect me despite my father’s bullheaded industry and my mother’s patience-formed strength. They lacked grit to grapple against them, and only in this did they lack it, I think; only against my mother’s family did they not have the ability to resolve things whether peacefully or violently. And eventually they just gave up and thought they would just… surrender me over when I entered my adolescent years. I was their daughter. I… suppose they didn’t love me enough. I know it sounds awful— thinking that they should have always protected me, through and through—” 
“No, it wasn’t.” 
“—when it could have been the clan itself that would have been mostly to blame.” 
“But they were still supposed to protect you! They were your parents—” 
“Why else do you think I am the way I am? I may be a shy and scatterbrained or a horrible woman with a muddled sense of morality or what I think should and should not happen when in reality it’s just what I want to happen, but this is why I’m so resolute, and so stubborn. This is why I love you so fiercely. All mothers are like that to some degree, even if my own would never let me bear witness to it.” You haven’t told her you love her too in years. 
“But then when I was an adult I met your father, who was a bit like a country bumpkin, but a formidable sorcerer and a kind, honest person, and I couldn’t help but fall in love with the person he was both inside and out. And for the next few years we struggled to have a child until I found out I was pregnant with you,” she continues, “Even though by that time I was well into my late thirties, we were overjoyed and decided to keep you.” 
Suddenly you wish there had been more time before things were ruined. Time for you to know her better, the beginning of your existence. You would have begged her for old photos, stories, mementos of her and your father. 
“And now the clan’s faded into obscurity, finally. The younger members left and the older ones passed away peacefully. Happy story, right?” 
“...yeah.” It all ended well, but you don’t know if you can say the same for your mother’s. At least, you hope, when she goes away, it can be swift and peaceful like the way her relatives did. 
Then suddenly there’s a buzz in your pocket. An inconvenient one, out of the blue. 
“You should go get that first,” she says. 
“...okay.” 
You lift it up to your face and feel like crushing the damn thing. Old number. Stupid number. Number you haven’t called in months because you’d given up on that bastard— oh. The two of you were working together now. 
You turn away from your mother, creeping to the edge of the room. “What’s wrong?” 
“I just talked to him, but I think it would be easier if you came back and was there with him too since you know him better than I do. And he… doesn’t seem like the brightest. He may think that it’s not important enough to hand over unless you ask him to or something.” 
You muffle your voice with your hand and whisper, “Hey, you shut up, you know nothing about him. He’s way smarter than people give him credit for. But I’m— I’m with my mother right now. Wait for a second. Just ask him to wait for me first; he wouldn’t need any of my help for all of this yet. Make a friend or get a life or something.” 
“...fine. But you’ll have to join us later. He’s bound to ask about you.” 
“Then just tell him I’m with my mother!” you snap, still whispering. 
“I’ll see what I can do.” 
“Wh— you little— oh, don’t you hang up now—” 
Weird thing is, he probably wasn’t even being so infuriating on purpose. And you wouldn’t have burst out at someone for being that way anyway. It was only because it was him, specifically. 
You’d sworn to put that past you. 
Your immaturity strikes once again. 
“If you have to go now,” your mother says, “You should. Just come back again next time. I can tell you the rest. Thank you again for the food, [Name].” She doesn’t call you ‘darling’ anymore, doesn’t she? Just your name. 
“Okay. Sorry.” 
You swing the bag back over your shoulder, wearing it this time instead of taking it off, easing your way out of the room. 
“It’s okay,” she assures you, “Goodbye. I love you.” 
“...I love you, too,” you say, but it’ll mingle with all the other sounds in the hospital, and it’ll be drowned out like a ship in the middle of nowhere, your voice soft and thoroughly soused by the cacophony of bleak noises like telephone rings and beeps from electrocardiographs outside of her deafeningly quiet hospital room. 
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“Hi, Yuuji,” you greet them in the dimly lit waiting area, “...and Megumi. Sorry to keep the two of you guys waiting for so long.” 
“Oh, hey; it’s okay!” he goes, although in his voice it seems that there’s been some of his usual energy seeping away from him. “Didn’t know the two of you knew each other until just now or that you were a part of some magic curse society. Are you guys childhood friends who met because of all that cursed stuff or something?” 
“Something like that,” Megumi explains. 
“It’s a long story,” you say, not exactly denying him nor conceding his words anyway. Once again, there’s a trace of anger despite your promise to be untethered to your puerility like this. “Anyway, are you okay, Yuuji? How’s your grandfather?” 
He pauses. “Oh, about that… he just passed away.” 
“Oh, I’m so sorry, Yuuji…” you hold the fabric of his jacket (sometimes it still feels wrong to try and hold his hand— it just makes your heart ache again like a scab being clawed at) and pull him into a brief caress, patting his back as gently as you can manage. 
“It’s okay, I’ll be fine,” he smiles as you pull yourself away, “Grandpa wouldn’t want me to be crying right now anyway. So don’t worry.” 
“Okay, I won’t. But if you’re sad, just know you can always talk to me.” 
He laughs, softer than the boisterous manner he usually does so in, “Yeah, I know.” 
Megumi clears his throat, pointedly trying to make a sound, “Anyway. Itadori Yuuji—” 
“Just call him Itadori. You don’t have to be so uptight.” 
“Nah, [Name], I’m fine—” 
Megumi sighs. “Anyway, we need you to give the cursed object now.” 
“Oh, yeah, that,” you start, “So, Yuuji, do you have the thing that Megumi would have explained to you? The cursed object? We need it for everyone to be safe, and all.” 
“Yeah! Hold on, let me get it. I told you I didn’t have it already, but here’s the box,” he says, tossing it over to Megumi. 
He retrieves the box. It’s ancient and wooden, the craftsmanship behind it elite and adroit, and the paper on it has the words for a buddhist sutra written on it like an inscription. You’ve heard of it before, the kind of curse it was meant to seal, but it definitely couldn’t be— 
He opens the box. 
Holy shit. 
“Where is it?” 
“It’s empty…” Megumi panics, “Wait— hold on!” 
Things are bad— as in, they couldn’t get any worse— not only was the school doomed by the loss of its cursed object, the cursed object was Sukuna Ryomen’s finger itself. 
You blame your inadequacy, your inability to have stopped everything sooner— if not for that nobody would have gotten hurt. If not for that there wouldn’t even be a risk of anything happening anyway. You should’ve tried harder to sense it, and you should’ve focused more on it to keep the student body safe and sound. 
It was your fault. No one else was to blame but your useless self, and even if that were wrong, you’d still have the most to be blamed for. 
Megumi has a hand on Yuuji’s shoulder, keeping the other boy from moving, his breathing erratic and his eyes wide in frantic shock. 
“...well, they were saying, ‘let’s open it up to see what’s inside it tonight’,” Yuuji clarifies, standing a few centimetres away from the door, “Why? Is that bad?” 
Sasaki and Iguchi? 
The air in the hospital feels particularly chilly tonight, gooseflesh terrorising your skin all over, and for all the kinds of reasons that would cause anything like such. 
“It’s way worse than bad,” Megumi declared, fear and grim so thick in his voice they were tangible enough to be cut through with a knife. “Your friends are going to die.” 
“We’ve got to go,” you rush, “Now! Quick!” 
It passes by like a blur, as if you’re in that moment and out of it simultaneously. Your mind has been bombarded with and pressed so thoroughly onto the moment, like tissue on a wet surface, that it seems it’s being blanked out, while your legs continue to run despite your mind nearly forgetting, at this point, why you’re running— as if your legs moving so frantically to help them was something intrinsic, something you didn’t need your mind for. 
Sasaki and Iguchi are in danger. Sasaki and Iguchi are in danger. 
You didn’t know them all too well, really— just through Yuuji, and Yuuji himself wasn’t as close to the two of them, being their junior and all. And although a part of you was doing this just because you could, like the way you did when you first discovered your cursed technique, you knew that another was doing this for Yuuji. If in any way they were hurt or could not survive, he would blame himself to no end. He possessed such a kindness within him, so much that it hit the depths of your soul sometimes; shattered your heart so gently a million times over or heated it in the kindly way mothers heated pans on stoves despite the heat of it being greater than that of blue flame. If anything happened to them, no matter how much or how little he knew of them, he wouldn’t be able to live after that. 
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The two of them are near the barrier separating the school from the street before you (you struggle with catching up to them— one’s a star athlete and another has been training for much longer than you, you’re sure), the gates tall and enveloped in darkness. You didn’t think much of school except for when it came to your grades and being with Yuuji, thinking of these gates— the ones that you and Yuuji use when you’re running super late— in particular as just a shortcut entrance you paid little attention to, just something treated with indifference as you passed through them whenever you were late. Yet now they echoed denial, refusal, and slim chances— it was unlikely that they’d be alright, especially since this cursed object in particular was the finger of Sukuna Ryomen. 
“Is that the building?” Megumi questions, “Where are they?” 
“Fourth floor— guh!” Yuuji seems to come to an abrupt halt, nearly slamming into what seems to be an invisible wall. A veil. 
“Yuuji!” 
“I’ll handle this,” Megumi declares, hopping onto the metal wires, more directed to Yuuji than you. So even he can tell how selfless Yuuji is, even after only having just met him. 
“I may not know those two that well, but—” Yuuji starts, “But they’re friends! I have to help!” 
“You’re staying here,” Megumi commands, “[Name], if you could— get your father or any sorcerers you know to come here and help.” 
He climbs over the gate. 
He’s going away from you again. Slipping away from your grasp. And now, all you can do is watch. There’s nothing else— nothing else you can do, at all. If you went inside now, you wouldn’t be able to help except— what?— tend to their injuries? Manipulate your own cells into weapons? The former wasn’t possible with how much you’d strained yourself from running so quickly earlier, and the latter was too dangerous: you hadn’t even started with the basics of that yet, on your father’s obstinate insistence that even if he’d let you play doctor he wouldn’t let you manipulate any of the cells in your body into any kind of usable weapon. Any simple wrong move could make things turn south in the most drastically terrifying of ways. If you went in there, you’d just die, and there’d be more casualties, more trouble, more problems caused by you and you alone. 
You can’t even call your father, either. That would always be your last resort— because even if you fought, you still needed him to rest. You didn’t want him overexerting himself by using his cursed technique at all. 
(You were selfish. You didn’t want to lose your father. You didn’t want to have to visit not one but two parents lying sick and tired and grey in matching hospital beds.) 
“Yuuji?” you start, turning to him. “You’re…deathly quiet. Are you okay?” 
His lips quiver slightly, a faint whimpering noise coming out of him. Is he crying? 
“Yuuji, look at me. Are you okay?” you ask, as gently and softly as you can right now, despite your ragged, unsteady, unathletic-addled breaths. You place a hand on his shoulder, slowly rubbing up and down from his shoulder and crook of his neck to his back. “It’s okay. …Megumi’s a good and… capable, strong person and jujutsu sorcerer. He’ll be okay, and they’ll be okay too. Just… just put your trust in him, okay?” 
“I’m sorry, [Name], but I’ve got to go,” he tells you, “You stay here, and call for help or something. I’m sorry, but I’ve just really got to do it!” 
He hugs you, quickly, deftly. And then he crosses the gate, leaving you all alone like Megumi did. You wish he’d hug you longer, that you could take care of him for a little longer— it was your last way to be useful now. 
Still, there’s someone you could call, now that you remember him.
The emergency contact. 
You snatch your phone out, resolute. 
“Hello! Gojo Satoru speaking,” the voice on the other line says. 
You’ve heard it plenty before by accident. 
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When Gojo and Megumi are back, Yuuji’s in the form of a figure slung over Gojo’s shoulders like he’s been reply entrenched into slumber, his body seemingly limp and his torso completely bare. There’s barely an ounce of movement in him, except for slow exhales and inhales you can see on his chest. Sasaki and Iguchi are both nearly the same, the former covered in bruises and in a deep, panicked haze, and the latter as asleep as Yuuji seemed to be while harbouring injuries he may never recover from. 
The only non-roughed up one here is Gojo, it seems; Megumi has a stream of blood running from the top of his head in rivulets, staining his sweaty, scraped forehead. 
“Wh— you two, what happened? Why are they all asleep? What happened to Yuuji? Are they okay? What—” 
“Calm down, kid,” Gojo says, “They’ll be fine. I mean, there’s a 100% chance that your friend can be executed, but…” 
“Executed?” you almost scream, “What the hell happened? You said things would be okay!” 
“Uh-uh, again, calm down. I mean, we don’t even know when they’re gonna make him kick the bucket! He ate Sukuna’s finger, by the way.” He holds his arms up in faux surrender. 
“Gojo you ignorant slut! Don’t you fucking dare tell me to ‘calm down!’ He ate Sukuna’s finger? Why weren’t you able to stop anything? What’s going to happen to him now? You know what— give him to me!” 
“You know, it’s not like I’m scared of being hunted down by your father if you use your cursed technique— I mean, I’m leagues stronger than him— but the stuff was too strong. It’s not like you’ll be able to get rid of the finger in your little boyfriend.” 
“He’s not her boyfriend!” Megumi interjects.
“Thank you, Megumi!” Your face is going hot like a campfire fanned by the wind. 
“Oh?” Gojo adds, a teasing lilt in his voice. “Anyway, we’re going to get him to a place where we can cover everything with talismans to surround him.” 
They’re going to execute him at Jujutsu High after.  
“I’m coming with you.” 
“You sure?” Gojo asks, “Your father isn’t going to like you travelling so far away without telling him.” 
Megumi shifts, a little sombre. “[Name], you don’t have to.” 
“...I’m doing this for Yuuji, not for you.” 
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“You okay?” Gojo asks while the three of you are back in the hospital. (You hate this building so much.) Iguchi’s been transferred to a ward, Sasaki having woken up and insisting on staying with him. “I’ve got kikufuku if you want some. You must be really tired since it’s so late, huh?” 
The whole situation is so incredulous you’re unsure of whether you want to burst out laughing or dismember someone. 
“...nothing. Wait, let me see Yuuji again.” 
Everyone is asleep, it seems— all except for you and Gojo. Yuuji’s been knocked out, and Megumi’s stuck in the world of his dreams. 
You can’t sleep. There’s just nothing to put your mind at rest. 
At least if there’s one thing you can do it’s this. 
Gojo picks him up by the sides of his torso (now temporarily clothed with a spare white shirt) like a child with a heavy book. “Woah— he’s pretty heavy for a fifteen year old kid.” 
You lay Yuuji face-up on the line of hospital chairs. There are thin scarlet marks right under his eyes— Sukuna’s eyelids, you’ve been told. 
You should’ve done more to protect him. 
Slowly, reticently, you kneel by the side of the chairs. You press your fingertips onto that pair of thin tiny lines. 
Nothing happens. You can’t picture his cells being able to grow back. It’s as if there’s been a slit on his face and its outline has been replaced with brand-new skin. His cells don’t budge. 
“Why don’t you help Megumi? I bet he’s got plenty of healable injuries.” 
“…I don’t think I’ll be able to help much. I could faint if I try helping him now. It’s better to leave it to Dr Ieiri or something.” 
“Pft,” he scoffs, “Shoko? She’s definitely not going to heal all of him. It’ll just be a waste of her time. You can just help him with the tiny scrapes and bruises first. And I’ll even tell her that you did it. She’s really fond of you, you know.” 
You give him a shy, modest smile. “Thanks, then.”
It’s time to get to work. 
Megumi’s skin is smooth like a baby’s just like the last time you felt it, though the frown on his face, ever-present, is bound to cause wrinkles there in less than a few decades’ time. You place your hands on him, bruised and bloody, watching in your mind and directing his cells as they work. 
Once the smaller injuries have been dealt with, you stop. “I can’t really work on the one on his head, since then you’d get another fainted person to carry around, but he should be fine with some bandages and patching-up there, because I’ve already kind of catalysed the start of that area’s healing process a little. Other than that, he should be completely fine. I’ll give it, say… two weeks or so for it to get better completely.” 
“Good work!” he smiles, the outline of his cheeks visible on his blindfold. 
“By the way, Mr Gojo…” 
“You know, I appreciate the respect you’re giving me now, but just Gojo is fine.” 
“Okay, Gojo. Do you think Yuuji will be okay?” 
“I mean, I’m pretty sure. And I’m going to ask them to suspend his sentence. I’ll just see whether he wants that or not once he wakes up.” 
“That’s the thing. I’m not sure if he even will.” 
Gojo laughs. “Don’t worry. He was really strong, and able to switch between being possessed by Sukuna and being himself at will. We haven't seen that kind of talent in a millennia! I’m sure they’ll listen to me, anyway.” 
“Thank you,” you sigh. Thank goodness. “If you need any type of payment, um… teleport to my house whenever you get inconvenient little cuts like bruises and stuff. I can help.” 
“Nah, reverse cursed technique’s got me covered.” 
“Oh, wait— I forgot about that— um… I can…”
“Just leave it to me! No payment required,” he exclaims, holding both thumbs up. “And for the record, the one who wanted to save Yuuji was actually Megumi.” 
You wouldn’t have imagined that would happen. Megumi— pragmatic, serious, unkind when he needs to be (no matter how kind of a person he actually is— no, was— at heart), different from Tsumiki in so many ways. There was no way he would have been the one vouching for Yuuji, someone he’d only just met, to be spared. 
“Really?” you ask, “I… wouldn’t have thought he was the one who would do it. I thought, maybe, you were just… really kind tonight or something…”
“Well, maybe it was because he saw how much you cared about Itadori and did it for you, or maybe he had met Itadori, liked him, and just wanted to save a good person,” Gojo suspects, “But if there’s one thing for sure it’s that your old friend saved your new one.” 
“...oh.” 
You’ll have to bring it up with him next time— maybe, if he’s still there tomorrow…
“I know you’re mad at him, but a lot has happened,” Gojo states, voice lower, softer like a schoolteacher’s, “Still, I won’t tell you that you have to give him a chance or any of that. If you don’t want to, you don’t have to thank him or anything. I’m sure he did it out of his own volition without expecting anything from you. He knew he probably didn’t deserve to if it were you.” 
You pause. “No, it’s just… I’ll talk to him again the next time I see him. Alone, most likely. And I can figure something out. I think that would be the best way to go around things. Thank you, Gojo.” 
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18-6-2018 
The aftershocks are still there, although you’ve come out unscathed. 
Last night was a mingled mess, a blur. You’d tried your best to help Iguchi by the time Yuuji was placed in the room of talismans and you could come back to the hospital and visit, but in the end he still needed better help than that. His injuries were too large of scale for how you were at that moment, already tired after healing some of the numbers done on Megumi. 
(You were useless. You couldn’t help anyone. You couldn’t prevent Yuuji from being hit with such soul-striking guilt., couldn’t help Sasaki from being traumatised, couldn’t help Iguchi enough for him to be back at school soon—) 
Sasaki’s injuries were limited to bruises and scrapes, but though you could help her physically, there was nothing you could do to assist her emotionally. 
You stayed with them for a few hours in the ICU and then one of the hospital wards (a floor under your mother’s), your father calling you once the sun had risen. 
“Gojo Satoru told me about everything that happened.” 
“Yeah. I know you’ll scold me, but… not now. I’m sorry, I’m just really tired.” You hang up. 
For all you spoke of wanting to be useful, the night when your powers were needed the most was when you were at your most useless— you couldn’t help them, you couldn’t help attack the cursed spirits, and the only thing you could do was call for an adult’s help like a little, scared and helpless girl. 
You needed to train, and train harder than you had been doing for the past few years. 
There’s a knock on the door, a dot-dot-dot-dot-dot. dot dot. It’s Yuuji, you know it is. How ever could you not? 
Timidly, movements quiet like the room itself, you pull the door knob, seeing him there, relatively unscathed. You sigh in relief, a moment’s respite before you return to the panic you had been living in before since you deserve the respite less than other people do— no, you don’t deserve such a break at all, you’re absolutely sure of that, not after what you pulled, how horribly and utterly useless you were, you’ll remind yourself of that again and again and again— the heart-piercing guilt and the worry and the constant need to care for the people around you, almost like a mother, maybe, but you don’t like that thought as much as you think you should. Maybe if your own mother knew, she’d disagree— maybe she’d tell you that you should be a mother, maybe she’d ignore that you were also a child at certain times— the most convenient ones, probably. When she thinks it good that you, a child, were someone’s caretaker because women should take pride in and appreciate that, she would encourage you to be one; when she thinks it bad that as a caretaker and a so-called ‘adult’ you can have your own autonomy, agency and opinions, then maybe she’d remind you that in her eyes you knew nothing of the world. But maybe, just maybe, there was also a chance that she wouldn’t be like that in any way. 
But you wouldn’t put it past her. 
“Yuuji, are you okay?” There are questions about to spill out of you, tears about to fall like gushing rivers, but you’re just happy he’s alive at this point. 
“Yeah.” His voice is soft. Your chest twinges; it hurts like an awful, intransigent little bruise. “Hi, [Name].” It feels so unignorable, the way it’s filled with such sorrow and worry that it weighs his usually loud and boisterous voice down. 
“I thought that—” you start, lips trembling, “I thought there was a chance I couldn’t lose you. The only thing I could do was—” you sniffle, “Hope that they could delay it or something.” 
“Yeah. I’ll explain it later,” he says, his voice sincere. 
You squeeze the wrist of his sleeve. “Don’t do things like that ever again,” you plead, “Promise me that at least.” 
“I promise.” 
“And keep your promises.”
“I will.” 
“...want to come inside?” 
He walks inside, and you step back to make way for him. 
“Sorry I came so late,” he says to you and Sasaki, who shakes her head in reassurance. “Hello, Sasaki,” he greets, “Is Iguchi okay?” 
They speak for a while— you don’t feel like it’s much of your right to join their conversation, since you did nearly nothing at all when they were most in danger, so you leave them be for a while. It would be better not to bother them right now, anyway. They’ve both been traumatised until it reached beneath their bones within the past twenty-four hours. 
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When you leave the hospital, Sasaki tells you that she’s going to stay. You tell her to take care, squeezing her hand one final time. 
You let her, patting her on the back. You’ll call them later— she’d given you her contact— just to check on the two of them. 
“Where’s Megumi?” you ask Yuuji. 
“Oh, Fushiguro? I’m not too sure, but that Gojo guy said he’ll be there soon.” 
“Where, though?”
Sheepishly, in peak Yuuji fashion, he scratches the back of his neck. “Actually, another reason why I came here was also because… I mean, I know you and him weren’t close, but I’m going to the place where they’ll keep Grandpa’s ashes, and I think… you know, you could come with me. I… I don’t think I’d be able to do it really well alone, even though he had definitely made it clear he seriously didn’t want me moping around after his death and all. Gojo and Megumi will probably be there, but I thought it would be better if you were there because I know you better than those two, and you’re my friend. So… could you come with me? I know that he never really showed it, but I think he had always liked you a lot. Like, he was happy we were friends and stuff.” 
“...mhm. I’ll always be happy about that,” you tell him, before pulling him into a hug. The guy must need one right now. You’ve never hugged him before. Your heart hurts. 
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The air is hot and humid with the breath of summer, bundles of mosquitoes bound to be breeding new ones these next few weeks. Up in the sky is the sun, bold and bright, glaring down harshly at the two of you. 
“Before he passed away, Grandpa actually said something. He… kind of cursed me, if I’m being honest,” Yuuji starts. “He said I was a strong kid, so I should help people. And I’m going to do that. So that was why when Gojo asked if I wanted to be executed immediately or just eat all the fingers before dying, I chose the second option. I… I think I want to help people that way.” 
‘You’ve already helped people enough. You helped me,’ you almost tell him. 
You frown, because that’s the only thing you can do right now. You search for words to say the same way you do looking for dog books in libraries chock-full with those of other genres. “I’m… disappointed, I— I know I should be grateful, grateful that you’re still going to be alive and all, but… you’re still going to be in danger, and you’re still going to be executed one day. I mean, again, I know I should be happy you’re going to have more time alive and that I can still see you, but what if things don’t go as planned? What if you lose control of yourself once you reach, like, the fifth finger or something?” 
You’re selfish like that. In a way, you’re just the way your mother is. You should’ve always known— you were her beloved daughter after all, and the people you know would be loved the same way she did you since the day she knew of your existence, and maybe even before that. 
“Don’t worry,” he grins, wide as always. Even in an over-enveloping darkness he still manages to be the light. “I’ll be just fine. I’m a strong kid, after all. And we’ll always be friends!” 
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Gojo asks if he and Yuuji can talk in private for a while. You wonder if this was how your mother felt as she had to give the person she loved most away (but you will have to go away, one day), because you can briefly tell what Gojo is going to ask. You wonder if she felt this twice. 
Yuuji can’t stay with you forever. In the same way you can’t remain by your mother and father’s sides for all eternity. 
This won’t be the last time you’re here, you think. For a place of death, it’s quite a bit beautiful how there’s such large masses of grass and plants surrounding it. 
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Megumi nearly walks past you, his eyes on the old photographs of the deceased all around him. 
“Megumi.” 
He turns around. 
“I just wanted to thank you for wanting to save my friend, even if you may not have wanted to do it for me, specifically… um… I didn’t expect that you’d still be here. Are your injuries okay?” 
“I’m okay,” he answers you. “And also, I…” he hesitates, the first time he’s talked to you for something actually related to the two of you in a long time— nearly two years if you’re counting correctly, but the thoughts in your head are a bit too jumbled to count at the moment. “I didn’t really do it for you, though. It… it was for Tsumiki.” 
“Oh.”
“Wait! I’m sorry, that didn’t… come out right. But I should also apologise for something else. You wouldn’t have been thrown into this world anyway if not for my own demon dogs years ago.” 
“No, no, it wasn’t your fault. And I would have wanted to be in it anyway. There’s not many who can heal other people and all, so I just thought… even if I can’t do as much yet, since I don’t have reversed cursed technique and the drawbacks that come from mine are really bad, I can still help people sometimes if they’re dealing with relatively minor injuries. I can, um… make things easier for people. I can be useful like that. I’d keep to it anyway, because I’m stubborn, but… yeah. It wasn’t your fault, really.” 
“Okay. That’s good to hear.” 
“Yeah. Anyway, I’m happy to know that Tsumiki is okay.” 
Silence again for a while. The air turns a little more sombre, and a lot more awkward. 
“She is. And Itadori seems… like a good person. I think it’s good, that… you were able to find a friend like that.” 
“It was. He’s a really, really good guy.” 
“You love him a lot,” Megumi says. 
“I do. He’s a really good friend. If there’s something I’ll always know I know that, at least.” 
“I can see that. It doesn’t seem like he loves you back in the same way, though.” 
“...wow. Way to be blunt, Megumi. And yes, I do know that, too.” 
“Let’s just… change the subject.” 
“You’re the one who introduced it in the first place.” 
“Okay. How… how are you?” 
“I’m good. Wait, I think you should… go back to them. Maybe they’ll need you there right about now. He’s probably going to have to go to Jujutsu High, right?” 
He pauses. “Yeah. I’m sorry, [Name].” 
“No, no. That’s okay. I expected it. It’s just that I’ll miss him a lot,” you tell him, “He took care of me, kind of. You know I’ve always been a bit of an awkward or shy person, but he still approached me since I was new and we ended up hitting off as friends, kind of. We did a lot of stuff together.” 
Sounds pretty familiar, huh. 
“If you want I can make sure he’s safe for you.” 
“...you should be able to do that regardless of whether it’s my wish for you to do so or not…” you state, “But that would help, I guess. And I’m sorry for my attitude towards you for the past few hours or so. Thank you again.” 
“...I’m sorry I never spoke to you for so long, by the way,” he says abruptly. ‘By the way’? Classic Megumi… 
“I could tell you were. It’s… it’s okay. The two of you kind of have a habit of doing that.” 
All your rage, your loneliness, your feelings of abandonment— and this is all you can do. This is all you can say. You can only just let it go, in the end. 
“I’ll explain it all one day.” 
“You don’t have to if it’s hard.” 
He stays. “No, I will. I promise. And I promise I’ll start to talk to you again, as well. I was just… scared of a few things, maybe.” 
“That’s okay.” 
The two of you aren’t quite friends again yet, but it’ll happen soon. Maybe. And even if it doesn’t, you’re finally able to say, with an open, honest heart, that that doesn’t matter as much anymore. 
“I guess this is goodbye again, then.” 
“Not really.” 
“Oh, right— promise to keep in touch, okay? My patience is running thin with you,” you chuckle at that last part, attempting to joke and make things lighter again. 
“Promise.” 
“I’m going to go home now, by the way. Please tell Yuuji that I wish him the best and I’ll visit when I have my own money to visit Tokyo and all.” 
“I will.” 
“And help me say goodbye to him for me,” you add, “Hope that’s not too much for you to do. Sorry for the trouble. It’s just that I’d actually just about cry if I had to do it in real time right in front of him. Be good to him and be good friends, okay? Keep that promise, at the very least. That’s the one thing that I wish for the most.” 
“Bye, Megumi.” You turn back in the direction opposite of his. 
“Wait—!” 
His hand is on your wrist. Now you’re in front of him, like yesterday, and he’s holding your wrist, albeit a bit gentler than the way he used to pull it a whole eight years ago. 
His eyes are cast away from you, slightly avoidantly and in a way that’s a bit abashed. “I’ll miss you, [Name].” 
“It won’t even feel like I’m not there,” you say. Though his grip is slightly tight, he loosens it as soon as you try to slide it up, as if he’d let you be free of it if you want him to. 
You squeeze his hand instead, turning to face him. It feels warm. It feels like there’s blood coursing through you, the sensation more tender and tangible than it’s ever been. 
“Goodbye.” 
“Goodbye, [Name]. I’ll… I’ll call.” 
“Thank you.” 
Now you’re the one slipping away from his grasp. You move your hand away and walk back. The door slides open. 
2010. Springs, summers, autumns, winters. Hands on wrists, a back faced to your eyes, wide with innocence. Warmth and laughter and happiness and love. Days coloured with vibrant hues and time spent with dog books and in libraries. Frowns were greeted with smiles. Hesitance was non-existent. You didn’t feel a need to compensate for your uselessness. You were a child. You didn’t feel useless at all. You just felt this: a constant leaping in your heart, the corners of your mouth twisting up into a juvenile grin, braiding someone’s beautiful brown hair and tying it with a pretty cherry hair tie. 
You want to cry as you walk back home. 
You’re pretty sure you do. 
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Dream Warriors Chapter 4
Title: Dream Warriors Chapter 4
Summary: Sam and the reader discuss her dreams. Dean and the reader make some progress on the case and their relationship.
Characters: Reader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, other original characters
Word Count: 3,700
Warnings: Mentions of miscarriage, angst
Read Chapter 3 here.
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You and Sam both continue to stare at your perfectly healed hands. All traces of the burns were now gone. You look up at Sam, tears stinging your eyes.
“You saw that, right?? I’m not going crazy. You saw that too,” you practically beg. He nods his head slowly, trying to process what he’d just witnessed.
“What’s going on, Y/N?” He asks. You shake your head quickly, looking back at your hands.
“I wish I knew,” you mumble. You flex your hands slowly, wiggling your fingers as well. “I’ve been having these dreams. We thought it was just stress from the miscarriage and due date but now…”
“Dreams?” Sam asks, watching you closely. You look up at him and nod.
“It’s all so normal. No monsters. Our families are alive. Dean and I are very clearly in love but I married someone else who’s been cheating on me. You finished school and you’re getting married to Jessica,” you tell him. He frowns a little more and nods. “When I’m there, when I’m in the dreams, all of this is just a dream. A dream I hardly pay attention to. And it all feels real, holding my daughter feels real.”
“The burns?” He asks, cutting his eyes to your hands.
“I went to get a pie from the oven in a rush and forgot potholders,” you explain. He nods again then shrugs his shoulders.
“Okay, ugh…normally, I’d agree that it’s just your subconscious but…” He trails off and you nod. “What are you thinking? A spell? A djinn maybe?” He asks as he makes his way back to his laptop. You frown, pulling your knees into your chest.
“I don’t know what to think, Sam,” you tell him. He nods and starts to type on his computer. You sit in silence for a moment before looking around. “Where’s Dean?”
“Went to talk to the sheriff again,” he says, picking up John’s journal. You roll your eyes, throwing the blankets off of yourself.
“The sheriff isn’t going to talk to him. Why didn’t he wake me?” You ask as you move to your bag. You open it to find that Dean had taken your fed clothes last night and put them away neatly.
“He wanted to let you sleep as much as possible. You really scared him last night,” he says. You stop what you’re doing and look at him, confused. “When you heard that baby crying?”
“That was Ella,” you say. He raises an eyebrow in question and you sigh, looking back into your bag. “My daughter. I mean – the baby in my dreams.” Sam frowns as he watches you.
“Y/N, she isn’t real,” he reminds you. Rolling your eyes, you rise to your feet, clothes in hand.
“I told you, Sam. When I’m in the dreams, she’s the realest thing in the world. I’d give my life for her in a heartbeat,” you tell him. He nods slightly.
“Well try not to do that. Minor injuries may heal but dying?” He asks. You frown and nod, turning for the bathroom. “Want me to call Dean?”
“I’m not gonna tell him,” you inform Sam before closing the door behind you. You hear his chair scrape the floor before he approaches the door.
“What do you mean you aren’t telling him?” He asks. Sighing, you begin to change clothes.
“He’s already worried about me enough. I’m not giving him more reason to,” you call through the door to him.
“Y/N, something is hurting you in your dreams. That’s not something you should hide from him,” he says. You finish buttoning up your shirt and pull the door open again.
“Please. We can figure this out. Me and you,” you plead with him. He shakes his head slightly, conflicted.
“Nothing good ever comes from any of us keeping secrets, Y/N. You tell us that all the time,” he says, crossing his arms over his chest. You reach out and place your hands on his arms gently.
“Sam, I’m begging you. Just…one day. Let’s see what we can find in one day and if we don’t get anything or if things get worse tonight, then I’ll tell him,” you say. You bite your lip, waiting for his response. A car door closes from just outside the room and your pleading look turns to panic. “Sam, please.”
“Okay. Fine. One day,” he relents, turning back towards his table in the corner. You let out a sigh as the door to the room opens and Dean steps in. He’s got three cups of coffee and a white bag in his hands. He smiles widely when he sees you.
“Hey, Sleeping Beauty finally woke up,” he teases, setting the breakfast he’d picked up down on the table. Sam takes one of the coffees and looks into the bag.
“Find anything out?” He asks, pulling a glazed donut from the bag. Dean picks up the other two cups and starts towards you.
“Well, they finally got an ID on one of the victims. Monica Lester. Married. From a town about an hour east of here,” he informs you both. He holds one of the cups out to you and you smile a little, taking it. You thank him and he winks at you before sitting on the edge of the bed. “Sheriff Anderson has so graciously agreed to let me do the notification.”
“I’ll go with you,” you tell him before taking a drink from the coffee. He frowns at you and shakes his head.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. The man just lost the woman he loved and their unborn baby, Y/N,” he says. You sigh and nod, walking over to the table.
“And if anyone can understand at least part of that, it’s us,” you tell him as you reach into the bag yourself.
“Yea, just part of it, sure,” Dean mumbles, rising to his feet. You look at him quickly.
“What?” You ask. He smiles a little and shakes his head, walking over as well.
“Sammy, you good to stay back and keep digging?” He asks. Sam glances between the two of you before nodding.
“Yea, I’m fine,” he says. You give him a pointed look and he nods his head once. “I’ll let you know if I find anything.”
The two of you load into the front seat of the Impala and begin the hour-long drive to the first victim’s house. The ride is quiet, neither of you saying much at all. The invisible wall between you, that you had just started to believe could be torn down, now seemed to be reinforced and even bigger somehow. Dean parks the car on the curb in front of the house and the two of you look over at it.
“You sure about this?” Dean asks. You look over at him.
“Oh, now you’re talking to me again?” You ask. He stares at you for a moment, seemingly stunned. “Yes, I’m sure. Come on.” Pushing the door open a bit too violently, you climb out of the car and slam the door. Dean gets out quickly and rushes around.
“I don’t know why you’re mad at me, but you don’t have to take it out on the car,” he says, fixing his tie. You stop in your tracks halfway across the yard. Dean gets only a few steps ahead of you before stopping and looking back.
“I just wish you’d talk to me,” you tell him. He shakes his head, taking a step towards you.
“Talk to you? Y/N, I try to talk to you all the time. You shut me down,” he huffs, exasperation clear on his face. You stare at him before walking to the front door quickly. “See??”
“We’re on a job, Dean,” you insist, reaching for the doorbell. He grabs your hand before you can make contact with the button, holding on to you tight.
“Y/N,” he pleads. You pull your hand away from his and press the button, hearing the bell ring inside. Footsteps quickly approach the door and Dean straightens up, reaching into his coat pocket as you do the same. The door opens and a man, around the same age as you and Dean, looks between you.
“Chris Lester?” Dean asks. The man nods, panic quickly spreading across his face. “We’re with the FBI. Agents Wayne and Prince. Could we speak with you?”
“Oh God,” he prays, voice trembling. You reach out and place a comforting hand on his arm.
“We should sit down,” you tell him. He nods his head slightly before turning to lead the way. You two follow and Dean pushes the door closed, glancing around the house. Mr. Lester leads the two of you into what seems to be the living room of the house. He sits on the edge of an arm chair as you and Dean take seats on the couch. The man leans forward and wrings his hands nervously.
“Is this about Monica?” He asks. You glance at Dean and he sighs, looking down at his own hands.
“Mr. Lester, we’re sorry to have to inform you but…your wife’s body was found three days ago about an hour from here,” Dean tells him.
Chris’ face falls slowly as each word is processed. You can see the moment his heart breaks in his eyes. He slumps forward with a wail and Dean quickly reaches out, catching him. You allow Mr. Lester a few minutes with his grief before Dean speaks to him again.
“I know it’s hard but we need you to answer a few questions so we can catch whoever did this.” Chris nods and slowly moves himself back into the chair. Dean sits back on the couch and straightens his jacket.
“Can we get you anything?” You ask. Chris shakes his head and wipes at his cheeks.
“No. You, ummm, you have questions?” He asks, voice still thick with tears. You nod and look at Dean.
“Do you know of anyone who would want to hurt your wife?” He questions. Chris shakes his head, looking at his hands.
“No one. Monica is…” He stops and swallows back more tears. “She was an amazing woman. Everyone loved her. What happened?” You frown and shake your head.
“We’ll spare you the details for now but it doesn’t appear that she suffered,” you tell him. He nods slightly, running his hands over his face.
“Why would someone do this?” He asks, starting to lose it again. Dean reaches out, placing a comforting hand on Chris’ shoulder.
“It’s not going to make sense. No matter what we find out. Believe me. I know how you feel,” he tells him. Chris looks up at him and you bite your lip, looking down at your hands. “About three months ago, my girlfriend went to the store. Broad daylight in a crowded parking lot, a man stabbed her. She was six months pregnant. I lost them both that day.” You look at Dean quickly, fighting back tears. Chris shakes his head slightly. Before you can say anything, the sound of little feet running causes you all to sit up straight.
“Daddy.” A little girl, about four or five, runs into the room. “Who are you?” She asks, looking between you and Dean. Chris wipes at his eyes before forcing a smile.
“They’re friends,” he tells her. You put on your best smile before rising and walking over to her.
“My name’s Y/N. What’s yours?” You ask, kneeling down in front of her. She smiles back at you widely.
“Claire,” she says. Your smile widens a little.
“I have a friend named Claire,” you tell her. “Could you show me your room?” She nods quickly and takes your hand, pulling on it. She leads you up the stairs and into an adorably decorated princess bedroom where she immediately runs over to her dollhouse.
You take a seat at a little tea table in the corner where you spend the next several minutes being introduced to a number of dolls. This is immediately followed by a Barbie fashion show, Claire showing off all of her outfits. While you smile and laugh at the young girl, you can’t help but think back to what Dean had said. I lost them both that day. It felt like the final nail in the coffin that now held your relationship.
After a few minutes, a gentle knock at the door draws your attention. It opens and Chris steps into the room, a sad smile on his face. He tells you that Dean is outside and you say goodbye to Claire before going downstairs. Stepping out onto the porch, you find Dean in the yard on his phone, presumably with Sam.
“Yea, sounds good. We’ll see you later,” he says before hanging up. He drops his phone back into his coat pocket. “He’s got the names of the other two victims. They’re from the same town the opposite direction so he’s gonna go see their families.” You nod slightly and cross your arms, looking down. “Y/N…”
“I’m not dead, you know,” you cut him off. He scoffs a laugh causing you to look up.
“Yea, I know. Do you?” He asks. You stare at him, stunned. “I tried talking to you in the car and you were practically catatonic. You’re mourning. I get that. I am too. But I’m not the one doing the pushing.” You shake your head slightly.
“I’m not…”
“You are! You flinch away from my touch. You barely speak to me. I want to hold you again. I want to kiss you again. I want to make love to you again. And if you aren’t ready for that yet, that’s fine. I get that. But…tell me what I need to do to fix this,” he pleads. You shake your head again, fighting back a sob, and move to walk past him. He reaches out, catching your elbow. “Y/N, talk to me!” You spin to face him, jerking your arm from his grasp.
“Get mad!!” You snap at him, shoving at his chest. He stumbles a step back. “You never got mad!!”
“I’m mad as hell. If you’d seen what I did to that demon when I found him…” He trails off and you wipe at your eyes quickly.
“Not at the demon, Dean!! Get mad at me!! Blame me!! It was my fault!!” You scream at him through your sobs. He stares at you, wide eyed, and shakes his head. “It was. I was her mother and I should have protected her better.”
“Sweetheart, I could never blame you for that. If anyone’s to blame, it’s me,” he says, reaching out for you.
“No, you’re not!! You weren’t even there!!” You insist as he gently takes your arms in his hands.
“Exactly. If I hadn’t been out on a hunt, if I had been home with you, I could have stopped him and we’d have our baby right now,” he says. You shake your head as you stare at him, bewildered.
“That’s ridiculous. We agreed you’d continue to hunt,” you tell him. He nods slightly, slowly pulling you closer to him.
“What’s even more ridiculous is you thinking I could or should blame you. From the day you found out you were pregnant, you were in full mom-mode. And it was the greatest thing I’d ever seen. You stopped hunting, stopped drinking, stopped eating junk. You were already an amazing mom and she wasn’t even here yet,” he says, his voice soft and calming. His arms hesitantly and slowly wrap around your waist, pulling you into his chest. Your firsts clench at the lapels of his jacket, as though you’re clinging on for dear life. “Let me fix it,” he pleads. A sob breaks through as you bury your face in his chest. Dean’s chin comes to rest on top of your head as he holds you close, rubbing circles into your back.
The two of you stand in that same spot, clinging on to one another, for what feels like forever. Your sobs eventually begin to subside and Dean’s arms loosen enough for you to look up at him. His lips brush your forehead and you feel yourself smile.
“Sam’s out for a little while. What do you say we go back to the room and talk some more?” He asks, looking down at you. You nod, wiping at your cheek.
“I like the sound of that,” you tell him. He smiles a little and leaves one arm around your waist as he pulls you to the waiting Impala. He opens the door for you and you slide in all the way to the middle.
After closing the door, Dean goes around and slips into the driver’s seat. He looks at you and smiles widely as you wrap your arms around his, laying your head on his shoulder. His hands come to rest on your knee, his thumb rubbing back and forth slowly as he sets out for the motel again.
The ride back is quiet again but a different, comfortable silence. You stay tucked into Dean’s side, holding on tight to his arm as he drives. Occasionally, he turns and places a kiss on top of your head. Each time, you respond with a kiss to his shoulder. For the first time in a long time, things actually begin to feel right again.
Back at the motel, you take a seat on the edge of the bed you’re sharing and watch as he makes his way around the room. He removes his suit jacket and lays it across the back of a chair before starting to loosen his tie. You smile as you watch the muscles in his shoulders through the tight dress shirt he’s wearing. You’re on your feet before you have a chance to second guess yourself. Slowly, you wrap your arms around him from behind. He tenses up for only a split second before relaxing in your arms. Standing on your toes, you press a kiss against his shoulder blade.
“I love you,” you whisper into the fabric of his shirt. His fingers ghost over your arms before he turns to face you. You pull your arms in between the two of you now, your hands resting on his firm chest. He caresses your cheek with the back of his fingers before quickly closing the distance between you. Your lips move together in unison as he grips at your hips, pulling you impossibly closer.
************************************************************************
Later in the afternoon, you’re lying on top of Dean, your arms crossed over his bare chest as you watch him. He smiles at you sleepily and you can’t help but laugh.
“Wear you out?” You ask. He shakes his head, his hands running over your exposed back slowly.
“Nah, I’m good,” he says. You smile as you watch him for a moment. He reaches up and pushes your hair behind your ear gently.
“I’m sorry I pushed you away,” you apologize. He smiles a little and shakes his head.
“We’re gonna be okay, Sweetheart,” he assures you. You nod slightly before stretching up and catching his lips with yours once more. He smiles in the kiss and threads his fingers into your hair.
The door opens suddenly and you pull away from Dean with squeak as Sam comes into the room.
“Hey – come on, guys!!” He says, turning his back quickly. Dean smirks at you as you scramble to pull the sheet across your chest. “I asked if you wanted a separate room for a reason.”
“Calm down, Sammy. What ya got?” Dean asks, pushing himself up in the bed. Sam glances over his shoulder slowly to make sure you’re covered before turning to face the two of you again.
“I’ve got a pretty solid lead on the Manananggal,” he says, handing Dean a brochure. You look over his shoulder at it and frown.
“That’s just a Lamaze class, Sam,” you tell him. Dean nods slightly, opening the pamphlet.
“Yea, Y/N and I were looking into some,” he says. Sam nods quickly.
“Exactly. What better place for a monster to find pregnant women than a class for pregnant women? I checked and all the victims attended this class at least once,” he says. Dean hands the pamphlet back to him then leans over the side of the bed, picking his previously discarded jeans up.
“Worth a shot. You coming?” He asks, looking at you as he pulls them back on. You bite your lip before shaking your head.
“I don’t think that would be a good place for me right now,” you tell him. Relief washes over him before he rises from the bed and rushes to the bathroom. You watch him go before looking at Sam. “Did you find anything?” You ask him quietly. He shakes his head, frowning.
“Nothing yet,” he tells you. You frown as well and nod, looking down at your hands. The memories of the burns come back to you. “If you go to sleep, just be careful, okay?”
“Yea,” you say, nodding slightly. Dean comes back out of the bathroom a few minutes later, fully dressed in his usual plaid and jacket combo. He smiles at you before giving you a quick kiss.
“We’ll be back. Get some rest,” he says. You smile your best and nod.
“Just be careful,” you tell him. He kisses you one more time before following Sam out the door and to the car. You fall back onto the mattress with a heavy sigh and run your hands over your face before pulling the blankets up around yourself. Your hands slips down to your stomach and you feel the scar. You know it’s real. The pain and grief. The love you have for Dean. It’s all real.
“This is real,” you repeat to yourself over and over, a steady mantra as you drift off to sleep in the late evening.
“This is real,” you mumble as your eyes open to the darkness of the very early morning. Your hand still on your stomach, you feel the smooth skin before sitting up and looking around Dean’s bedroom. “This is real,” you tell yourself, looking at the bandages on your hands.
***
Forever Tags: @roseblue373
Jensen Tags: @lostin-jensenseyes
Dream Warriors: @aylacavebear @winharry @djs8891 @suckitands33 @rickgrimeswifeu @deans-spinster-witch @jackles010378 @foxyjwls007 @cutiesarah @urinternetmom @justrealizedimmascifygurl @kr804573 @thej2report @just-levyy @snowayumi @alisyacsa
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jaelvr · 2 days
Text
Like crazy
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Home | NCT 127 masterlist |
Requested : no
Prompts ; 57. “I’m just tired of this. I’m tired of it all.” + 65. “You know I wouldn’t call unless I was in pain.”
Pairing : ex! Mark x reader
Pronouns : you/yours
Type : angst, fluff, suggestive
Word count : 3.3k
Warnings : confused feelings, exes to ???, frat! au, fluff, slightly ooc, mentions/use of weed + alcohol !!
Have a great day !! 
——————————
"You know I wouldn't call unless I was in pain." Mark huffed, a gentle and genuine tone to his voice. He knew exactly how to pull on your strings every time. "Alright, alright." you gave in, running a hand through your hair as you sighed down the phone. "I'll be there in five." you murmured, humming as you heard him thanking you before hanging up. You pulled your trainers on and the slightly worn hoodie he'd given you last year on, trying to ignore the weird feeling in your gut. It wasn't anything new with Mark getting into fights. Except this time, it had been with another member of his basketball team, refusing to tell you who or why the fight had happened.
You'd reached his dorm in just under five minutes, and he answered the door almost immediately. "I didn't disturb you, did I?" he asked sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck as he stepped aside to let you in. "'s fine." you lied, biting your tongue as you tried to ignore how attractive he was looking like always after practice. "Where does it hurt?" you murmured, sitting on his sofa once you'd taken your shoes off, ignoring the flashbacks of what happened on the sofa last time you were over. He removed his jersey, showing the slight cut on his arm and the bruises. The light in the living room made his face more clear, a ring around his eye that would soon turn black now more visible. "Mark.." you sighed, your thumb running across his cheek subconsciously, swallowing the lump in your throat when you felt him nuzzle into your hand.
Sure, he could deal with these himself, but there was something in him, a part of him, that craved your gentle touch. It desired you to take care of him, to baby him like you always used to. You didn't miss the mix of lust and longing in his eyes as he watched you carefully tend to him, cleaning his cuts and applying ointment to his bruises. You felt yourself giving in, the butterflies swarming your stomach and the fuzzy feeling consuming you every time your eyes met each others.
And you didn't pull away as he leaned in, connecting your lips once again.
----
"..Hey." the voice spoke as you filled your cup back up in the kitchen, away from the group in the living room. You nodded at him, acknowledging his presence. "You really need to stop following me." you spoke, a small smirk on your face as you looked at him. "And why would that be? I can't follow my love wherever they go?" He smirked back, leaning against a kitchen counter next to you and crossing his arms as he stood close to you. "Since when was I yours again?" you shot back teasingly, downing what was in your cup for confidence before facing your ex again. "It's obvious, isn't it? You can deny it all you want, but you are mine, mine, mine." He joked, leaning even closer to you now as he put a hand on your hip, his voice just a low whisper at this point as his grin widened to match yours. "Especially after what happened the other night." he murmured, forehead against yours.
"We agreed not to talk about that." you murmured, wrapping your arms around his neck and toying with the ends of his mullet. "I know, but the memory just seems to keep replaying in my head over and over again." He teased, hand still on your hip as he held you tighter against him and his voice was just as low as before. "I swear, hearing you moan like that will be forever ingrained in my brain." He murmured, tilting your head back just slightly and whispering some more right into your ear. "Mark.." you murmured, a warning in your tone which only encouraged him. "Do you know how tempting it is, to have my love stand right in front of me like this right now?" He murmured, hands moving up your body now and squeezing your hips as his breath hit your neck. "Do you know how much I want to just pin you to this counter and-" he cut off what he was about to say, smirking at you.
"Stop it. We can't." you shook your head, biting your lip to hold your moan in, refusing to give in easily. The pair of you knew exactly what would happen and you refused to let the cycle repeat yet again. "Can't? Or don't want to?" he murmured, his breath still against your neck as his hands squeezed your hips tighter. "I think it's pretty obvious we both want it, baby. So why don't we just go ahead and give in already and have some fun?" He murmured, whispering some more now against your ear and nipping at it with his teeth too. "We…we shouldn't-" you started, a soft whimper escaping your lips and a hand instantly getting tangled into his hair. "Oh, but baby, we should" he murmured, tugging on your hair as his hand moved to caress your side and squeeze your hip even further to get a reaction from you. "It's not like either of us will regret it later on. All we'd probably regret is not doing it sooner." he mumbled, mouth moving to kiss your neck once before returning to whisper another sentence to you. "So why don't I just lift you up and-"
he was going to be the death of you.
----
It had happened again. And again and again and again. You were both at another party being held within his frat house, messily making out in the darkened hallway. The pair of you were doing your usual routine, making out every so often when it was just the two of you. Things would always feel awkward afterwards, but both you and Mark knew that there was no point in trying to deny each other's desires. You both wanted it, didn't you? So now here you were, once again, making out deeply in a darkened hallway. Your hands ran through his messy mullet once more, your bodies pressed tightly against one another. You had missed the feeling, honestly. "you wanna ditch this party?" you murmured in between kisses, soft giggles escaping you every now and then. "we could go for a drive or something."
"That's a great idea." He sighed softly, reluctantly pulling away from you now as he looked at you. "I could use a break from all the noise. Let's do it." He smiled at you, slipping his hand around your waist. "We can go somewhere quiet. No one will bother us there." he whispered, caressing your cheek. "lead the way, pretty boy." you breathed out, a flushed look on your face from the messy makeout, gently wiping at the corner of his mouth. "Follow me, baby." he murmured, intertwining your hands and leading you out, not caring if anyone saw as he helped you into his car. Mark sighed contently once he'd begun to drive off, the pair of you finally away from the party. This felt like the closest thing to a normal relationship you'd had for a while, deciding to ignore the doubting thoughts in your head. He kept his promise, driving off somewhere you wouldn't be bothered. Mark smiled again, this time looking at you with love in his eyes as he drove, enjoying the moment and the company of you.
You got out at the familiar spot, walking a bit up the hill from where he'd parked before he set the blanket down and gently tugged you down beside him, able to admire the city's lights and the clear skies with evident stars. "God, I love how quiet and peaceful it is out here." He sighed softly, lying down next to you on the blanket and watching the city lights and the faint stars in the night sky. He smiled at you for a moment before rolling on his back and laying there, his head still turned to look at you. "I could stay here with you for hours…" he murmured, turning his head some more to catch your eyes again. You smiled at him, nuzzling into him a bit more. The tensions were high, the burning chemistry resurrecting and too much for you both to ignore any longer.
He could tell that you felt it too, the way your body pressed against him and nuzzled you even closer into him. It was clear that neither of you could resist the urge any longer. He turned and brought you into a passionate kiss, his hands tangling in your hair and lips moving against yours. His breath was hot and ragged as he kissed you, making it clear what he wanted right now. "Give me another chance." he whispered, cupping your face delicately. "Mark, we-" you started, being cut off by his finger pressing against your lips to shush you. "Just shut up and listen to me, okay?" he murmured, his voice more dominant than usual. "I know we tried this whole just being friends thing, but that was stupid. We both know it. So why don't we just admit our feelings towards each other and move on from there? Give me another chance. You know you want to. I think we could last forever."
"I'm afraid that everything will disappear. I’m just tired of this. I’m tired of it all." you whispered, leaning into his hand and gazing at the ground. "I just want us to work." you admitted, cheeks pink as you vulnerably spoke. "So do I." he sighed softly, a soft look on his face as it looked like he was trying to not let his own worries show on his expression. "I know we've had ups and downs, but do you remember how good things felt earlier on when it was just you and me and no one else?" he murmured, shifting so he was sitting right beside you. "Let's go back to that, only this time, let's fix and deal with whatever comes our way together and never let anyone else come between us. Just trust me." You met his eyes, once again falling for the loving gaze. Maybe he was right this time. "..okay." you hummed, going with your heart. "Really?" He murmured, surprise on his face as his eyes lit up in hope. "You mean it?" he asked, cupping your cheeks and leaning forward to kiss your forehead. "Just promise me you'll always be by my side then. I don't want to lose you again, and I don't ever want to go through that breakup again. Please. Let's just make this work."
You took in his words, swallowing the lump of doubt in your throat and kissing his cheek. "I promise." you whispered, nodding. "Thank you." He smiled softly, gently wiping at your cheeks with his thumbs as he kissed your forehead one more time. "I won't let things end again." He smiled again, moving so he was lying down on the blanket again right beside you and wrapping an arm around you as he pulled you closer to him. "So let's just enjoy our night together and forget about everything else, okay? Just…just for a while, let's forget about all the drama and enjoy each other's company. Sounds good?" you nodded, sitting in his lap and cuddling up to him. You didn't say a word, simply enjoying the moment. He smiled at you for a few moments more, enjoying the closeness of having you in his arms as he held you close and breathed slowly, not saying any words either. The two of you just enjoyed the quietness of the night, the quietness of nature and the silence of being alone together, away from all the noise and drama of life and the outside world. It was just the two of you. And he was content.
Please be right this time.
----
You had sat intertwined on your sofa, lazily passing a blunt around the living room with the others in your friend group you'd invited over. You were cuddled up to Mark, your arms wrapped around his side and his hoodie strings dangling in your hand as you toyed with the strings nonchalantly. Mark had one of his arms around you and was casually chatting with the others as well, the two of you just enjoying the rest of your evening and the weed together. you placed gentle kisses against his neck, nuzzling into his shoulder with a soft sigh. The others were still chatting away, laughing and cracking jokes at one another, unaware that the two of you had fallen into a cute little intimacy. You had been nuzzling into Mark's neck and planting gentle kisses against him, also letting out soft little sighs as you relaxed into the moment. Mark was grinning slightly at the touch of your lips on his neck, letting out a low moan and holding you tighter against him.
"my room?" you muttered, hand resting on his thigh as you looked innocently up at him. He smirked and took another pull of the joint, exhaling slowly before looking at you and nodding. "Let's go." He murmured, gently pushing himself away from the other members and starting to get up from the couch. He took your hand into his and pulled you with him, leading you upstairs. "Keep quiet, alright? We don't want to let them know." He murmured as he opened the door to your room and pulled you inside with him, closing the door softly behind you. His hands were all over you as soon as you entered the room, pinning you against the door and pulling you into a messy makeout. His lips were on yours, hands moving up and down the sides of your hips as he moved his hands over your body slowly. You could feel his breath against your neck, his grip tight but gentle at the same time. It felt so intense yet so passionate, and you couldn't help but get lost in the moment.
"Mark.." you moaned quietly, enjoying the feeling of his hands travelling along your body. the sight of you in one of his shirts which came to your knees had driven him insane all afternoon, especially becoming more desperate with the weed in his system. "Hnnghh…baby. Don't talk just yet." He murmured, still holding you against the door, his hands roaming over your hips as he squeezed your thighs and pulled his own body closer to you. The feel of your body pressed up against him like this was driving him insane, and the feeling got more and more desperate once you had started to moan too. "Don't say anything, it's driving me crazy just thinking about it.." He murmured, his mouth hovering slightly above yours, his breath hot on your skin. "need you Markie.." you whimpered as your hands tangled into his hair, earning a groan from him for the nickname that you knew drove him crazy.
"God damn it…" he murmured softly, a hand moving up to wrap around your back and holding you even closer as his lips pressed against yours, his fingers moving through your hair and massaging your scalp as his other hand squeezed your thighs again. "You know exactly what you're doing to me…" he groaned, his voice hoarse and his breath hot as he let a hand move up to the back of your head and start stroking your hair, slowly moving lower and lower. "what do you mean, Markie?" you continued, batting your eyelashes at him innocently, winding him up more. "Don't play innocent with me." He murmured, taking a deep breath in before letting out a groan as he felt you bat your eyelashes and grin back at him innocently. If you kept up like this, he'd lose all reason soon and give in fully to you. "You know exactly the grip you have on me, baby. Please stop playing innocent because I'm close to losing my patience here." He murmured softly, eyes still on you as a mischievous grin made its way onto his face.
"but Markie.." you whispered, leaving a hickey on his neck as your hands travelled along his chest, knowing you'd push him over the edge. "Mm..mmnghh…" He groaned softly, feeling the hickey on his neck and letting out a low moan as his eyes rolled back slightly. "Fuck…god, stop…" He murmured, his voice sounding both frustrated and desperate at the same time. His hands moved down to you now as well, running along your thighs then to your own hips, his fingers slowly caressing before moving back up, towards the back of your neck. "You gonna be good for me, baby?" he murmured, taking control as he wasted no time in removing your shirt. "I'll be so good for you, Markie. so, so good." you whimpered, moaning softly before he gently covered your mouth with his hand. "You gotta be quiet baby. Mmhh…" He groaned, feeling the hickey on his neck before feeling your hands travel along his chest too now. After feeling you moan before, his hand covered your mouth again to keep you quiet. "That's it…such a good little doll." He murmured softly, moving his hand away from your mouth and letting out another low moan as he felt your hands on him too now.
This was going to be a long night.
----
You opened your eyes slowly, groaning once more as the light from the outside blinded you and made you wince. You felt stiff and aching all over, thanks to all the activities you had last night. You stayed in bed for a moment longer, taking a deep breath and stretching your limbs, letting out a soft grunt of pain as you did so. The house was quiet, strangely quiet. You could hear your own breathing, but nothing else besides that. No voices, no footsteps or other movement. It was almost too quiet for it to be natural. You rubbed your eyes for a bit longer and moved to sit up, letting out a soft groan of pain as you stood up. You tried to brush your sleepiness off as well, stretching more to test out your muscles as you did. You looked over to the side of the bed, expecting to see Mark lying there and still asleep. But to your surprise, the bed was empty, the space beside where you two had slept last night now void. You rubbed your tired eyes again and looked around the room slowly. It was still quiet, a weirdly quiet morning as you wondered where he might have gone.
You froze as you realized Mark was nowhere to be found, and suddenly it was like a sinking feeling washed over you. A lump formed in your throat and your heart raced, anxiety filling you as you realized something was wrong. You started to think about why he might not be here and started to get paranoid about it, the quietness of it all not helping. You got up slowly, pulling on the shirt of his you had worn yesterday, feeling the pain in your thighs as you did so. The bathroom was empty, the kitchen empty, the living room empty. The entire home was empty, a quiet hush all around. As you came down the stairs, the eerie silence hit you once more, a chill running through you from how quiet it all was. His stuff was gone, gone as if he had never been here in the first place. The house was empty now, just like it had been before he had arrived. The empty house and its eerie silence reminded you of how he always played this same cycle with you. He would call you when he was bored, and you'd come running, falling right back into his lies and deceits whenever he was bored. Then, he'd disappear without a trace until the next time he felt lonely and bored again, starting the whole cycle all over again.
Alone again.
49 notes · View notes
jimraisedmeup · 1 day
Text
TICK // 7.1 - personal jesus
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Rating: mature (angst, language, sexual content)
Word Count: 1400
Reach out, touch faith
Your own personal Jesus Someone to hear your prayers Someone who cares
New Year's Eve 1983 - junior year
…the room was dark. You couldn't tell where you were. A house? A bedroom. A soft blanket underneath you, headlights of a distant car flashing from behind the curtains on the windows.
Though the lights were off and you didn't recognize the room, you were certain of a strong sense of safety. A comfort in the unfamiliarity. Was that the sound of a guitar playing softly? Maybe… somewhere in another room. 
Suddenly, it wasn't car headlights illuminating the dim room anymore. Moonlight poured in through an open window, pale and lucid.
And a figure could be seen stepping towards you from the shadows. You still didn't feel fear. You felt bare and vulnerable, but anticipation took over your senses.
Blurry flashes of silver rings and the smell of cologne… like everything else around you, how you knew the scent was on the tip of your tongue. You knew that smell from somewhere. 
All of the things around you, the smell, the man, the sound of the music. Mysterious in your surreal subconscious. But it also felt like coming home, as natural as whispering the name of someone you loved.
"Hello?"
He stood in front of you, waiting. A hand reached up and touched your chin, silently asking for you to look up at him.
Gripping the blankets behind you, your gaze lifted towards the moonlight and was dazed by brown eyes, a shy smile.
Everything shifted, jolting you quickly. He wasn't standing in the beams of light anymore. No, he was on the bed with you. Underneath you. 
The feeling of his hips between your legs and his hands sliding over your thighs raised goosebumps on your arms.
"Wake up…"
Leaning down, you kissed the man with the wandering hands and shining silver rings. No question about it - in your dreamlike state, you knew this was the only thing you wanted. An instinct.
You grasped for his belt buckle, still kissing him feverishly, lifting his shirt to access his jeans... 
"Hey! Wake the fuck up!"
The transition from a deep, sensual sleep to the embarrassing reality of your bedroom dropped onto you like a bucket of cold water. 
Sun poured in through the windows, much like the moonlight in your dream. And, of course, there was no man in your bed. Only the lovely Robin Buckley standing in your doorway, tapping it obnoxiously and looking at you expectantly.
"Hmm?" you mumbled, dragging the blanket over your head, still not quite awake.
"You looked like an actual corpse lying there. I had to make sure you didn't, like, die in your sleep or something."
You rubbed your sleepy eyes. "I might have just been in heaven."
"What?" Robin asked, nose wrinkling. She shook her head. "You know what? Nevermind. I don't think I want to know."
You sat up and squinted at the girl leaning on your door frame. "So why exactly did you wake me up? Besides to check my pulse?"
"You can't let go of your famous cranky morning attitude for one day? It's New Year's Eve, dingus!"
Oh, fuck. "I totally forgot what day it was. What are the plans, again?"
With the stealth of a ninja, Robin shut the bedroom door behind her so your parents couldn't eavesdrop.
"I thought we had a deal!" she whispered. "You've got plans with Nancy and Carol, right? I need you to tell mom that I'll be with you all night."
Yawning, you finally scrambled out of bed and over to your dresser. In your sock drawer, stuffed inside a rolled up pair of socks, was a crumpled bit of paper.
"Sure, no problem. But I'm not going with Nancy."
Robin snorted. "Should I even bother guessing who you're going to see tonight?"
Still cranky from waking up, you threw back your own prying question. 
"Should I even bother guessing who you're going to see tonight?" you snapped, but instantly regretted the tone of your voice when you saw a flash of hurt in Robin's blue eyes. 
"Look, Robbie, how about we make this easy? No matter where we both end up, let's tell them we were at Carol's with Nancy. Just meet me at our spot half past midnight, yeah?"
"Do you think this will actually work? We've never asked to go out on New Year's before." 
Robin looked apprehensive, but you didn't miss the spark of adrenaline on her face.
You gripped the paper in your fist tighter. "No idea, but eventually they're going to have to realize that we aren't their prisoners and we can be friends with anyone we want."
Feeling unknown And you're all alone Flesh and bone By the telephone Lift up the receiver I'll make you a believer
Eddie was almost out of his front door when he heard the phone ring, shrill and disarming. 
He stopped in his tracks for a moment, listening carefully to his father picking up the phone in the living room. A few seconds of silence, then some mumbling.
"Ed! It's for you!"
The call he had been waiting for. 
On the last day of school before winter break, the brown eyed boy meticulously scribbled his phone number on a piece of paper before stuffing it into your locker. After the passing of Christmas and almost a whole week, Eddie wasn't sure if you would ever call. Or if he had even put the paper in the right locker. 
After the day you had skipped school together, he had been a little discouraged by the wall you suddenly built between them. You were avoiding him in the hallways again. A wall was always up with you, though, and Eddie could easily tell how private of a person you were. 
But he truly thought you both made progress that day. Hot chocolate, driving his van around the old factory across town. Learning about each other and laughing at stupid shit. He figured those would be memories you could reminisce over, years down the line. 
Or was he just being a hopeless romantic? This was real life, not the fantasy of a brave knight fighting for the affection of a particularly sullen princess.
Plus, c'mon, he was Eddie Munson. A freak. But who exactly were you?
"Hurry up and grab it! I ain't got all day, kid. Jeopardy is on." 
Of course, his dad was already drinking and his patience was short, even on New Year's Eve of all days.
He ran quickly to the kitchen before his dad could hang up the call. Eddie almost dropped the phone in all of the commotion.
"Got it!" Making sure that asshole actually hung up the phone in the living room, Eddie Munson composed himself and spoke calmly into the receiver. "Hello, sunshine."
"How did you know it was me?"
Your deep voice, your golden honey voice. Sticky and sweet as it dripped onto his existence. 
"Oh, you didn't know? I have psychic powers. If I focus enough, I could probably even tell you what you're wearing right now."
Eddie's tiny effort worked, and the laugh he elicited from you was like music to his ears. 
"Joke's on you, Munson. I'm actually not wearing anything."
He could have choked on the room-temperature coffee he was sipping on. So much for composure.
"Perhaps my powers are failing me, then," he sighed dramatically. "Happy New Year's, by the way."
There was a pause on the other line. "Hmm, don't go saying that just yet. I was calling to maybe make plans with you tonight."
When the slightly stunned boy didn't answer right away, you continued.
"Unless you already have other plans? I know it's kind of late notice…"
"No, no," he replied quickly. "Well, I have some plans with Jeff and the guys, but not all night. I'm a little surprised to hear from you at all, to be honest."
"Yeah… I have… strict parents. They don't exactly approve of some of the people I hang out with."
Ah, Eddie thought to himself. Another piece of the confusing puzzle. 
He leaned over to peek around the corner into the living room. His father was focused on the TV, chugging beer and letting out an occasional wet cough.
"Sunshine, I know all about difficult parents."
"Maybe we could talk about it tonight? Or have I scared you off?" As usual, your blunt, cocky statements sent shivers down his spine.
"Freaks don't get scared, Buckley!" he chuckled, "I know a good place to watch the fireworks at midnight. Just let me know the time and place to pick you up."
Your own personal Jesus Someone to hear your prayers Someone who cares Your own personal Jesus Someone to hear your prayers Someone who's there
(song lyrics credit: "Personal Jesus" by Depeche Mode)
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wttcsms · 2 days
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the shoyo hinata concept i have is fun and definitely on my mind more often (despite it always being on my mind for the past 2+ years LOL), especially with all this "bop lore" shit i see on the internet.
enter in reader, who is our marketing major girlie and your university has a bunch of alum who entered the jva corporate workforce (like kuroo 🤭) so you snag an internship that gets you working closely on the promotional ads for the msby black jackals. you're in college, you like to party, and you have no issue with finding guys who aren't just down to fuck, but are literally wanting to fuck you specifically.
but with that comes a reputation. everyone on campus considers you a slut, and then a girl posts a tiktok airing out your business and basically saying that you ruined her relationship, that you slept with her boyfriend and that you're a home wrecking whore, etc. you already had a bad rep but now this is traveling from beyond your campus.
you lost all your friends, you're on the receiving end of the nastiest dms of all time (ranging from guys who wanna get lucky to girls going out of their way to purchase witch curses to be cast on you from etsy), and the only thing you have left going on is the fact that you still have your internship with the jva.
there's a lot more ground to cover, but you end up spending a lot of time with hinata & of course you two fall in love, but what makes this concept just so much fun for me is the fact that i 100% hinata is the guy who says he doesn't care about your body count or that he doesn't care about your past & he actually means it. and i love my emotional wreck readers, so of course you have trouble actually believing him even though you really want to because you're scared that if you let him in, he's just going to reveal that he's as awful as everyone else!!!!!
and ofc, touching on your flings and hookups, the guys you've been with are hardcore into degradation. calling you the worst names, saying that sex is all you're good for, and afterwards they're like bro, it's just some dirty talk. yeah, but it makes you feel used and dirty, and after hearing something so many times, ofc it sinks into ur subconscious, esp when it's being said by someone who doesn't even know you. you used to be fine with the dirty talk, but after everything that goes down, you despise it. and then you get with hinata, and he is just so !!!!! 100% giving you pleasure gets him off. and he's so heavy on the praise for you!!!! just, reclaiming your reputation and finding someone who loves you enthusiastically, wholeheartedly, and unconditionally
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but-a-humble-goon · 3 days
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Hey, I had a thought about Cassandra.
I haven't read any of her comics, only read the Batgirls one with the three batgirls going on their own side with that artstyle I love so much for some reason.
I know the fact that Cass speaks, and how, tend to change a lot between comics and all, and I don't know the exact lore, but I thought a bit deeper about it all from what I know.
Cain never taught Cass how to speak, right? She grew up with fighting and understanding the body as her only way to convey anything from her brain to the world. (even if she obviously learnt to understand other languages)
But languages shape how your brain understand and interact with the world. It is most noticable when someone talk a language they didn't grew speaking, there's those little mishaps or confusion of meaning and use for words that are said to be equivalent, and that's because you have to relearn a way to see and understand things.
I'd say it's even more obvious when the structure of the language changes, I don't speak any sign language, but I know how some things work, and you don't describe things the same way with it as you would with a spoken language. You have to translate the meaning because of that.
Now, to go back to Cass, she didn't grew up with either of those, at least from what I know. Her language is Body. Her mind shaped itself and its understanding of things through her and others' body. How do you translate that?
Like, she doesn't say things, she can see how others' body feel by looking at them, so she express her feeling through her body. If Cass were to want to express an emotion,her mind would first and foremost express it through her body, and that's not words, that's feelings, and your body can reflect so much mors complicated feelings than words.
My point is, if Cass was to learn her first spoken language while in her teens, it would be really hard for her to express herself in a way that is understandable. Bodies reflect intent with specific muscles, while you need to build a sentence. I know fanon make her learn ASL, which is logical from a vocal cords point of view because she never trained it to speak, but that would still make communication hard, because sign languages are still not body language.
I don't know if I get the idea across, but Cass' whole understanding of the world was built around the way bodies work, and it probably holds for animals too, which are just different, sometimes similar, body languages.
It is so intersting! You can only guess how they would understand the world!
But also, would hinder them so much in their communication. Once, if she ever, get past the training to not express any feeling, you would have someone who express anything with movement, postures, specific muscle being tensed or not. Someone one who is constantly seeing how others feel because no one knows how to prevent their bodies from having feeling.
You're on the same level as an empath as long as you can see their bodies. hiding your body allows you to not be truthful about your feeling...
I fee like I'm not going anywhere with this, but the implication over how one would share anything is wide.
It's actually addressed directly at the end of her solo book that for her it's not as easy as just learning a second language, it's a hardware problem. Her brain is so specialized for body language that it lacks the structure to even process written or verbal languages the way a typical brain can. While she can learn, it will always be much more difficult for her than anyone else.
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Also the thing that makes her way of communicating unique is that it's sort of "read only." As in, since it's about reading subconscious body language signals there's no real way to consciously express yourself with it. That's part of why she's all about the arts (dancing, drawing etc) because she's never had ways to express herself properly before and words obviously don't work for her.
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hot-astrology · 3 days
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Venus Retrograde
(The love i once had)
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Venus! one of the most lovely planets that loves. But everyone doesn't get to enjoy it the same way or have its fairytale play out the same way in their lives. Around 8 % of people have Venus retrograde in their natal chart. When a planet goes retrograde, in a persons chart its a life lesson and a new cycle of events that makes the person get new perspective of life and how this energy plays out. The person will learn how to go within and depend on their own values, and have more of a self introspective with what life has for them. Maybe last life time or times the person didn't use these energies wisely or could have not used them at all. It can make a person not satisfied with what they see or what a person presents to them. Maybe you could of been a person who always pushed out love, money, attention, to others but always seem to come up short and left high and dry with your feelings, emotions and desires left unfullfilled. We all want to be loved, cared for as well give it to others who deserve it. This is where it gets tricky and the struggle for those with this retrograde placement.
This life you are here to give yourself everything you want to push out to others. Its never selfish loving yourself first, and doing things that brings you joy or make you happy. As well you need to understand who deserves your LOVE, ENERGY, GIFTS, TIME and beautiful HEART. Its time to go within and understand why you love who you love or why you keep attracting the same encounters. Maybe its a karmic lesson that mirrors your insecurities, wants, needs, lust, desires, and old habits. Now this will play out differently in each and every ones chart, due to sign, house, aspect, degrees and life path. For the most part its a beautiful experience to go through, we at times look at things that deal with change, uncomfortability, and what the mass says, once you go through it and experience it yourself, it hits different.
When having a retrograde its like having opposing energies, you will play out the opposite sign and house but on the negative traits of that sign and house. Once you understand this you can shift the energies to your favor and use them to evolve into the new you. Thats why you can learn so much from the opposite of yourself, kind of like the ying yang, sun and moon etc.
Also degrees can play a major role in this situation. It can point to what area of life or what energy you need to change or adapt into to help you focus on transforming this outdated image.
Now we will give you some examples or placements with Venus retrograde and you will see how plays out in your chart and give you a better insight on your lifes experience.
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Cancer/ Venus retrograde
Here can bring an individual who can love so hard that it smothers their partner. Fear of rejection, being not good enough could make this person emotionally broken and insecure. So they tend to overcompensate with over loving a person and not loving their selves. These individuals can be extra sensitive with any situation dealing with love matters, care and the heart. Need to love yourself as you would your partner, only then you will develop growth and bring others into your warm heart and get it back 10 fold. Be your own mother and nuture your broken and confused heart.
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Scorpio/Venus retrograde
Well Venus in scorpio would be in detriment, so this makes this placement a little more challenging. For a retrograde ( our opinion ) the person will be extra picky, secluded, and like things how they like it. Kind of like a Virgo thats why Scorpio and virgo kind of have simular traits, but thats a different topic. So this will make them want to know everything about you. As well hesitate in pursuing a relationship, their relationships can be hidden and secretive. You need to fully open your hidden heart and experience deep transformative experiences. Learn your deep subconscious traits and the love, trust and loyalty you expect from others. Once you meet that partner you will be with them through thick and thin and also the toxic side.
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Aries/Venus retrograde
Usually venus in aries would be your warrior, quick to talk to that girl or dude but not with this retrograde. They will be more of a shy type and kind of not letting people know about certain rejections in their love life, could get extra defensive when it comes to anything in the losing realm. You can be very dependent on other, feel like you need others help to be assertive and to gain money. You need to be independent and rely on yourself and own abilities. You need to go within to find that part of you that wants more in life from money, love, confidence, personal achievements etc. Remember you are in aries energy its a fire sign, so go after what you want and desire.
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xoxomireya · 19 hours
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ꪆ🍦ৎ﹐boundary setting﹑⎘﹒
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I. GET TO KNOW YOURSELF.
Look for the root of the problem. Maybe you’re stuck being a people pleaser, or maybe you don’t even know what your boundaries are.
If you identify with the first one, ask yourself why are you a people pleaser. Independently of the situation that might be making you act like this, internalize the thought that bending backwards for the sake of other people and completely disregarding your needs and values will destroy your sense of self-love and self-respect and make people lose respect for you, making you miserable. Surround yourself with communicative people and stop trying to guess everyone’s needs, it’s their job to communicate them to you. Do things you’ve always wanted to do in order to practice focusing on yourself and having your space all to yourself instead of giving it away that easily.
If you identify with the second one, you might need some time alone to reconnect with yourself. The way you find out who you are and what you want is to spend time with yourself, because you naturally gravitate towards what feels good to you. At the end of the day, you’re going to be stuck with yourself for the rest of your life, so turn this into something positive. Start meditating, journaling and look for question prompts to get to know yourself better. Once you know who you are and what you want, setting boundaries is going to be a piece of cake.
What boundaries should we set?
Even if there are some non-negotiables, everyone has their own boundaries. Set boundaries that make you feel respected, comfortable and authentic. Tune into your emotions and thoughts and stay true to yourself.
II. SETTING BOUNDARIES.
Now, this is the hard part. Once you know what you’re boundaries are, approach the situation by what you consider the best approach: assertively, politely… But without diminishing what’s bothering you. State the problem calmly and how it affects and bothers you.
Don’t make this whole situation into a bigger deal than it is, be chill about it and don’t act emotional or upset. Remember that you don’t have to apologize or explain yourself too much, you also have a right to say no and you don’t need an excuse not to do something that you’re uncomfortable with doing.
What do you do if someone tries crossing them?
If you’ve told someone about your boundaries and they still try crossing them on purpose, they’re out. Letting someone disrespect you is an act of self-deprecation, and if they do something once, they will most definitely do it again. Don’t be upset over it and tell them calmly that if your boundaries make them uncomfortable enough to not respect them, it’s better to part ways. Let them go.
III. BOUNDARIES WITH OURSELVES
It’s even harder to set boundaries with ourselves than it is to set them with other people. We’re always making excuses for our acts of self-deprecation. We even keep making depreciative acts against ourselves subconsciously, making it even harder to change it and set boundaries.
Here are some examples of acts of self-love and setting boundaries with ourselves:
Limit the time spent on social media and stop consuming content that makes you sad.
Learn your triggers and develop healthy coping mechanisms.
Communicating with other when you feel uncomfortable, hurt or upset.
IV. TYPES OF BOUNDARIES.
Physical Boundaries: These refer to personal space and physical touch. They include awareness of what’s appropriate, and what’s not, in different settings and types of relationships. They also include preferences for respect, privacy, closeness and touch.
Sexual Boundaries: These are related to consent and include the emotional, intellectual and physical aspects of sexuality. Healthy sexual boundaries involve mutual sexual understanding and respect of limitations and desires between sexual partners.
Emotional Boundaries: These refer to how your own and other’s emotional needs are handled. They are all about respecting and honoring feelings and energy. Setting emotional boundaries means recognizing how much emotional energy you are capable of taking in, knowing when to share and when not to share, and limiting emotional sharing with people who respond poorly.
Spiritual Boundaries: They relate to your deepest values, sense of meaning, and inner truth guiding your life journey. They anchor you when outer forces challenge your identity or purpose.
Financial Boundaries: These boundaries are designed to protect your financial well-being, maintain healthy relationships, and ensure you are not taken advantage of financially. Financial boundaries can cover a wide range of areas, including lending money, sharing expenses, giving financial advice, and discussing personal financial details.
Time Boundaries: Time boundaries are the limits you set on how much time you spend on different tasks, activities, and relationships. They help you prioritize your goals, protect your energy, and avoid burnout.
How do these boundaries benefit you?
Boundaries should help you establish and maintain healthy relationships with others and yourself by helping us build trust, safety and respect. They also prevent burnout and resentment, and protect our mental health and wellbeing
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