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#here we go again. crying screaming throwing up!!!
peace--n--love · 6 months
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ME RIGHT NOW: ⬇️
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duskmother · 8 months
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ilonacho · 1 year
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what if i became a minion blog again💛
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kimmkitsuragi · 2 years
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this is so sweet i just realized this: after "fully" discovering a new area, i always immediately go to dirtmouth and sit on that bench, and the feeling i have is equivalent to thinking "home sweet home" after a long day out
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widevibratobitch · 2 years
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a girl reads her favourite play for the hundredth time and reaches that one scene that always makes her lose her mind. 2095770658570609 injured 453378997001 dead.
#'I have still a confession of importance to make and to you I make it. Mine has been a fortune which but few enjoy.#I loved a monarch's son. My heart devoted but to one made him its world.'#SHUT UP SHUT UP OH GOD FOR FUCKS SAKE NOBODY SPEAK TO ME EVER AGAIN#'Here on this holy altar. here in the heart of his queen. the object of his love and adoration. here I deposit my last sacred legacy.#Here may he find it when I shall he no more. [tURNS AWAY AND TEARS CHOKE HIS UTTERANCE]'#JUST FUCKING KILL ME ALREADY WHY DONT YOU#this scene alone unwaters my crops and worsens my skin and leaves dirty dishes in my sink.#this scene wraps me up in tinfoil and throws me into the microwave.#'you and carlos belong to each other. no paltry judices shall make me alter this opinion. promise me that you will love him.#promise and vow to me that you will love him for ever' 'i promise that my heart alone shall ever be my guide' SCREAMING CRYING SHAKING ETC#'youre going without telling me when. how soon. we shall again see each other' 'rest assured we shall again see each other' AHSHSJDDIJSDKDH#'I KNOW YOU HAVE LONG WISHED FOR SUCH AN OPPORTUNITY OF FALLING. SHOULD IT BREAK A THOUSAND HEARTS WHAT CARES YOUR PRIDE FOR THAT?#OH NOW I KNOW YOU WELL. ALL YOU HAVE AIMED AT HAS BEEN ADMIRATION' S C R E A M I N G C R Y I N G S H A K I N G T H R O W I N G U P ETC ETC#'G O . I NO LONGER VALUE ANY MAN ON EARTH.'#'[FALLS AT HER FEET IN MOST VIOLENT AGITATION] Queen! Oh God! How lovely still is life!'#get out. fuckin. leave me alone. i dont ever want to read another sentence with mine own two eyes. im going to burn every book i ever owned#im going to set fire to my house and to myself. i am NOT normal about this. nobody has ever been as not normal about a play as i am rn.#i hate this#don carlos#schiller#don karlos#also it's funny because i always lose my shit and need to put the book down for a moment to get a grip at the exact same moment#that Schiller made Posa break down a little too so after that 'when I shall be no more'.#it's just too much for me to handle.#god i feel so exhausted. i dont think i can continue rn. ill leave the prison scene for tomorrow.#once again @Verdi why oh why omit this scene from the opera?!???!!?!#honestly the power this holds over me. like no other. no matter how many times i read it i will always end up#severely dehydrated from all the crying#ok yknow what. im pinning this because i need everyone who comes to visit my blog to know just how distressed i am
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dontfuckingtouchme1 · 6 months
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I hate it when you want to cry but don't want to explain why so, you just don't.
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wanders-in-wonderland · 4 months
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Pay to Play
The last thing I remember is a van pulling up to the sidewalk and two men grabbing me. I vaguely recall a syringe going into my arm and the pain of an injection but that’s all that I can remember of when I wake up. I’m in a dark room, tied to a chair, and gagged. There are several other girls in the room as well, all tied and gagged just like I am. The fear is palpable as we look between ourselves. Some are crying and most of us are squirming and struggling to no avail.
Suddenly, the door to the room we’re in swings open and several men walk in. No one says a word as the men go towards the girl closest to the door and pick her up, chair included. They leave with her, just as suddenly as they arrived, leaving the rest of us in stunned silence.
I feel tears well up in my eyes, the fear and confusion becoming too much for me to process. One of the girls screams behind her gag and another one joins her. A few more join in but no one beyond the door seems to notice and eventually, we all quiet again, each of us trying to cope in our own ways.
An unknown amount of time passes and suddenly the doors slam open again. The men return but there is no sign of the first girl. They head towards the second girl and grab her the same way, ignoring her wails from behind the gag and her desperate struggling against her bonds. They leave with her, just like before.
It becomes a pattern. The men come and take the next girl in line every so often and none of us know what to expect or how to stop it. Soon, I’m up next. It’s been so long since I woke up that I’ve stopped crying already. My arms are sore from being tied up and my legs are numb from sitting.
The doors slam open again and I’m carried away. I’m brought to a room surrounded by lights, the sudden brightness making me squint and blink. When my vision focuses again, I realize the men are gone and I’m alone. I’m surrounded by cameras, and there’s a large screen in front of me playing a live feed of the room, and I see myself. My hair is tangled, my eyes are red from crying, and I look terrified. What’s next to the footage is what makes my blood run cold. It’s a chat box, and I can see the comments coming in. Comments about how I look, about how excited viewers are for the “show,” and how much they think I’m worth. I realize in that moment that I’m being livestreamed and about to be sold off to the highest bidder.
A door opens and a man walks in. He’s wearing a mask that covers most of his face and he has on a microphone that I can only assume let’s him talk to the stream’s viewers.
“Welcome! Our next lovely girl is here with us now. You all know the rules, if you win the auction, you must transfer funds immediately and she will be prepared for shipment or pick-up, depending on your preference. Let’s begin.”
He walks toward me, and I whimper behind the gag, terrified of what’s to come. He pulls out a pair of scissors, and swiftly cuts away at my clothes, pulling them off my naked body and I’m crying now. I can see myself on the screen, my sobs making my body shake as I try my best to curl into myself.
The comments start to flood into the chat box now, people discussing my body, my tits, my pussy. I see bids start to come in too, and part of me is shocked to see the amount of money these people are throwing out.
The man comes back into my view and he’s holding a vibrator in his hand. I wail behind the gag, shaking my head and struggling uselessly in my bonds. He isn’t deterred and I watch as he clicks it on. I’m straining to close my legs but the ropes are too tight and chair too unyielding. He brings the vibrator between my legs and I wail when I feel it touch my clit. He doesn’t give me time to adjust, he presses the vibrating head directly onto my clit and holds it there, letting the vibrations batter me.
I scream behind the gag as I feel the sensation overwhelm me. At first, the fear dampened any pleasure but as the seconds dragged on and the vibrator stayed pressed up against my most delicate area, I could feel my body reacting. Waves of stimulation crash over me and I can feel the first inklings of an orgasm starting to build. The man keeps the horrible vibrator on my pulsing clit and my tears are now in response to the unbearable pleasure that I never wanted, and certainly not like this.
The vibrator pushes my body closer and closer to a wrecking orgasm, and I can’t do anything other than feel it happen. I arch my back and squirm as much as I can when the incomprehensible pleasure crescendos and I shatter. I can feel my pussy clenching around nothing and gushing out my release, my clit pulsing in time to my heartbeat, and my mind fading to a haze of pleasure and pain as the vibrator continues to ravage me.
“Orgasm in one minute and 37 seconds, and she’s a squirter,” the man announces matter-of-factly. “Let’s see how hard we can push her.”
I look up from tear-blurred eyes, seeing the comments flood in on the chat box on screen. I’ve always been sensitive post-orgasm and the fact that the man hasn’t pulled away the vibrator is pushing me into a painful overstimulation that’s making my stomach clench in fear. He reaches down with his free hand and maneuvering around the vibrator to pull back the soft skin that normally surrounds my clit, protecting it. My eyes widen and I let out a guttural scream behind the gag as the overwhelming, horrible vibrator now decimates my clit with nothing to soften the nerve-fraying stimulation.
I feel my eyes roll up into my head and my body is thrown into a second orgasm with no preparation. Just pure, unstoppable pleasure that burns every single nerve in my body. I can’t even breathe or scream or cry as my entire being is locked in a soul-shattering explosion that seems to go on forever.
I have no idea how much time passes or how many orgasms that terrible pleasure is able to tear from my body before the vibrator finally moves away. I’m shaking, crying, gasping for air and my clit is burning and twitching from the continued stimulation.
When I finally gather myself enough to open my eyes and see the on-screen chat box, I feel my heart stutter when I read some of the things people are saying.
“Fuck, she’s hot like that, I wonder if she’d survive a day strapped to a fucking machine.”
“I want to string her up and see how good of a whipping she could handle before she begs.”
“Her little clitty looks perfect for a piercing, and I could run electricity through it and really make her scream and cum.”
That last one makes me whimper and I pull my attention away from the screen, hoping that this nightmare is almost over.
“Now for a change of pace,” the man says from across the room. My eyes dart over to him and see that the men who’d brought me here are back again, rolling in a different chair, this one built like a gynecologist’s exam table with stirrups. I shake slightly in fear as they approach me and untie me before manhandling me into the exam chair. I’m too weak to even resist as they strap my body down, my feet going into the stirrups and my legs, arms, and body immobilized with straps.
The men leave and I look up at the livestream of myself, seeing how fear has made my eyes wide with gruesome anticipation. I can see clearly in the video, my clit looking so red and angry while my pussy still drips from the torment of pleasure they’d subjected me to moments before. I watch as the masked man approaches me, wheeling over a tray containing more horrible toys and devices.
He pulls a metal speculum off the tray and comes to stand before me. I’m shaking with terror, desperately trying to beg from behind the gag. He’s uncaring as he slides the device against my pussy, pushing the cold, hard metal inside of me. My back arches as my pussy fills and I whine, wishing that I didn’t find this violation pleasurable.
The man starts to crank the handle of the device, the motion forcing the speculum to open me up. I can’t help but moan, feeling an unbearable fullness start to build as the device pushes my pussy wide open. Eventually, he stops and takes a step back.
I watch through the livestream as he grabs a long, thin wand from the tray and comes back. I can feel my pussy pulsing around the speculum holding me open, and I know there’s nothing I can do to prevent whatever deranged thing he plans on doing next.
“Let’s see how she reacts to some internal stimulation.”
Without any other warning, the man slides the thin wand into me and presses a button that makes it start emitting a low pulsing vibration. He brushes against the walls of my pussy and I shake at the onslaught of pleasure. The speculum gives him easy, perfect access and the thin wand means he has every bit of precision at his disposal as he targets my most vulnerable places.
I choke on a gasp when he finds my g-spot and presses into it with heart-stopping accuracy. I feel my toes curl and my eyes roll to the back of my head as painful, unbearable pleasure overwhelms me. He turns up the wand to an unimaginable intensity and drives it into the tenderness of my pussy. I cum immediately. My pussy gushes and my juices flood out of me as the pleasure ravages my body with no mercy.
Just like with my clit, the man doesn’t let up. I’m locked in this impossible pleasure and overstimulation as my vision goes white and my body feels ripped to shreds by every orgasm that pours out of me.
When he finally stops, I don’t even feel human anymore. My mind is empty, there is absolutely nothing left other than the pure pleasure that laid waste to my entire being. I’m vaguely aware of the man announcing final call for bids but I’m too incoherent to really register what is going on around me. Suddenly, I feel a prick on my arm and slowly turn my head to watch a syringe pull out of my arm. My head spins and I feel sleep encroaching on my mind.
Just before my darkness overwhelms my vision and I sink into unconsciousness, I catch a glance of the screen and see how much money was spent on me. There’s a muted sense of astonishment. It’s more money than I could even fathom, more than I could make in a lifetime. And someone just spent it on me, in exchange for my complete ownership.
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saetoru · 9 months
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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。what if you’re someone i just want around (i’m falling again)
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synopsis. somewhere along the line, you started to hate suguru—that doesn’t mean you stopped loving him too
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— word count. 9.5k (i am in misery)
— contents. post canon! au — fix it! (we all need a good fix it fic with suguru don't lie), this fic was started before recent manga chapters so the higher ups are still alive—just go with it ok :,), geto survives + lives free of kenjaku, exes to lovers, kind of redemption i suppose, mentions of blood, injuries, and weight loss (geto), mentions of canon character deaths (nanako, mimiko, nanami), mentions of wanting to raise children with geto and have a family, no gendered terms but reader has a personality and actual thoughts and feelings, references to the hunger games (you have movie night lol), BFF satoru (he is babie), there is a kiss y’all !! (scandalous i know :O)
— notes. i started this fic back in march and i had trouble with it and put it on pause for a while. i’m very glad i finished it in the end. i always like fix it! fics and this is self-indulgent and idk if ppl will read it bc it’s sfw but it’s ok if they don’t, i loved writing it. thank you koi for beta-reading this whole bad boy. mwah <333
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the day suguru is declared a free man is actually the day he signs away his freedom for good. 
you say nothing, but you know it’s the truth. satoru fights tooth and nail to plead suguru’s case—you think it’s perhaps a little too desperate for it to be in the best interest of suguru and not himself. but satoru has suffered enough, and admittedly—although you deny it—a small part of you does not want to lose suguru twice. you watch as satoru argues that suguru has already died once—surely he can’t die again? and losing control of his body and mind is paying for his crimes enough, is it not? he argues that there are no ideals left for a man like geto suguru to chase after losing himself to every principle he had left. 
and then satoru wins. 
you expect it, but it doesn’t make it any easier. you watch numbly as suguru is assigned under your watch. you should be happy. you love suguru—you never stopped. but it doesn’t change the fact that he’s not a free man, and now he drags your freedom with his. you’ll never break away from him, never cut through the ropes that tie your hands behind your back and bind you to him—and then you wonder for a moment, unsure if it’s selfish or selfless or some cruel in-between to think this way, if geto suguru was better off dead. 
whether that’s for your sake, or his, you’re not sure. 
and yes, he’s let off alive, and sure, there’s no real punishment for all he’s done, but you know deep down he’s as chained and shackled as he’s ever been. he’s not allowed to leave the house unless you or satoru are there to chaperone, and it’s never to be anywhere near non-sorcerers. he’s not to live in a place of his own until the higher up’s deem him trustworthy. he has to ask you to buy the things he wants from the grocery store. he can’t even step outside for a smoke unless you’re aware. 
for a long time, he doesn’t speak much—can hardly muster a barely audible mornin’ back when you force a smile and greet him cheerily for breakfast. slowly, it turns into half-snarky conversations that get cut short by one of you leaving the room. finally, you’re civil—maybe even friendly. you’re not so sure where you stand with him as of now.
it’s not the same suguru you remember falling in love with, it’s not even close to the version of the man you fell for all those years ago. it’s hard having him here—some days you’re angry and want to throw him out, to scream at him for haunting you again just when you think you’ve moved on from the horrors of your past. some days you want to cry and cling to him, bury your face into his neck and thank him for being here again, for finding his way back to you. and some days you wish you never met him at all, that this would all be easier if it didn’t exist in the first place. 
he’s not the same geto suguru you loved, but somehow, because life is as bitter as it is ruthless, you fall in love with this version just as hard no matter how much you deny it. 
“i made your favorite,” you smile gently, placing a neat plate of french toast with freshly cut strawberries on the side. you even take great care to get the syrup-to-powdered sugar ratio he likes right, but he doesn’t make a move to reach for the plate. instead, suguru sits at the table stiffly, like he has to be here or there are consequences for that too. it almost makes you sad—even here, he’s not free. 
“thanks,” he says quietly, “but i’m not hungry.”
“you said that last night, suguru,” you sigh, “and at lunch. and at breakfast. and at dinner the night before—”
“i’ll eat it later,” he cuts you off, playing with the ends of his hair. 
it’s a lot shorter now. it’s you who finds his body battered and bruised after the smoke clears. he’s almost unrecognizable, not the same charming and perfect suguru you’re used to seeing. not the same silkened strands and smooth skin, not the same muscled and toned body, not the same chiseled jaw and soft cheeks. instead, he’s a shell of himself. his hair is matted in knots, his body is almost frail, and you notice the sunken hollows of his cheeks and dark undereyes as you lift him from the rubble a little too easily. but his body is his own—that much you can tell from the way the stitches have disappeared. 
it takes shoko a long time to nurse him back to health—it takes even longer for him to open his eyes.
you waited day and night by his side, hand over his as he breathed slowly, unconscious and unsuspecting. it would be so easy, you think one night, it would be so easy to kill him and forget and move on. 
you’ve already grieved him once before. you’ve felt and conquered the pain of loving geto suguru and losing him first to himself and then to death. but love is as selfish as it is selfless, and it’s under your mercy that you let him live—yet it’s under your cowardice that you keep him close. 
“you have to gain back the weight you lost, suguru,” you sigh, “you’re w—”
“weak?” he finishes for you, eyeing you for a second and then grinning. it’s unsettling, a grin that makes your skin crawl and your heart stop for a moment before he’s reaching for the fork and stabbing into his toast. “is that what you wanted to say? that i’m weak?”
“suguru, you know that’s not how i meant—”
“you’re not wrong,” he hums, chewing on the first bite as he speaks, “i suppose i am pretty weak right now, huh? couldn’t even kill you in your sleep if i tried could i?”
your throat is dry as you shrug, “i suppose not,” you whisper. 
“ah,” he grins again, “but that doesn’t stop you from locking your door every night, does it?” 
suguru is still healing. his body is weak, and sometimes, he leans against the wall as he walks. his arm is healed—you’re not entirely sure how, but you catch him rolling the shoulder out every now and then like it’s sore and stiff. he’s lost a lot of weight—part of it is from being bedridden for as long as he was, injured and half alive, and part of it is from barely eating—save for the few bites you force into him. you never thought there’d be a day when you could say this—but the odds of you beating suguru in hand-to-hand combat are high, and the reality is an everlasting reminder that he is not who you fell for. 
you swallow, letting out a shaky breath as he watches you closely, diligently cutting another bite from the french toast sitting on his plate as he stares you down like he can see past your soul. you don’t know what’s scarier—that suguru can still practically see yours, or that you’re unsure he even has one anymore. 
“you tried coming in?” you ask, unsure what else to say. he merely shrugs, takes another bite, and sets his fork down. 
“thought i’d check on you,” he pops a strawberry half into his mouth as he speaks.
“is that what it really was?” you raise a brow, “or was i right to lock the door?”
you’re not sure why you lock the door at night. maybe it’s because you don’t trust him, or maybe it’s because you don’t want him near you just yet. you’re not sure. you’re not sure how satoru can go back to his cheery self, how he can step through your door and boom a loud yo, suguru! before settling beside suguru on the couch with his feet on the coffee table as he rambles away. maybe it’s not real—maybe it’s satoru desperately pretending that if he tries hard enough, things can go back to how they were. 
but you don’t know how he still has the energy to try, and you don’t know if you have it in you to try anymore yourself. 
you and suguru stare each other down like that for a bit, the tension rising with every silent second that passes. you’re sure he doesn’t want to be here as much as you don’t want him around—but you’re also sure he’s glad it’s here with you as much as you’re glad it’s with no one else.
“you tell me,” he smirks after a bit, the hint of amusement making your fists clench. how dare he have the audacity to look at you like that in your own home? like he has the upper hand over you without trying? “what do you think i was there for?”
“i think you should stay in your room, suguru,” you say carefully, “i bought a new bed just for that room.”
“how sweet of you,” he hums. he sips the tea before him—it’s cold by now, but it’s just how he likes it, rose with one sugar. “you must have been excited to have me.”
“hardly,” you mumble bitterly—you can’t help it. you want him to feel hurt, even just a little. you want him to know that just because he’s back, it doesn’t mean you’ve waited all this time for him to be. liar, a part of you says, you’ve always waited for him, haven’t you? but suguru doesn’t seem phased—he doesn’t even blink.
“then tell me, why am i here?” suguru asks, his tone is as casual as ever. 
i wish i knew, you want to say. i wish i knew but i don’t.
“because satoru asked you to be,” is all you can say.
he nods, pushing back his plate and standing up, offering you that same grin. “you’re right,” he hums, “that’s exactly why i’m here.”
it hits you why his smile is so unsettling once he leaves—it’s almost genuine, like he’s still loved you all this time. impossible, you tell yourself. suguru stopped loving you a long time ago. and you need to stop trying to figure out why. 
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even despite telling yourself you don’t care what suguru thinks, a small part of you needs to prove to him you’re not scared of him. that you don’t fear for your own safety in your home, and that him being here is not some form of him haunting you. you don’t care. he shouldn’t get the luxury of thinking you care. he can come in and watch you sleep like the creep he is if he wants—you couldn’t bother to give it a second thought. 
the first night you take a chance and leave the door unlocked, suguru slips into bed beside you. it wakes you up instantly, and before you can question it, his head tucks into your neck, and his hand grasps your shirt tightly. you notice the panting almost instantly—and then you realize, it must be a nightmare. 
you fall into old habits, even after all these years, defaulting to care for him like it’s second nature. 
“you’re safe, suguru,” is what you settle for saying after a moment of contemplation. it’s all you can really think to say, so you brush your lips over the top of his head as you murmur, “you’re safe,” over and over again. 
as difficult as it is to have suguru around, as painful and cruel and aggravating as it is to be reminded of his distant existence even as he’s two doors down, this part feels natural. it’s almost like you’re back in jujutsu high, waking up to him sneaking into your room as he presses his weight over your body and wakes you with soft kisses along your face. 
except this time, he’s not annoyingly demanding cuddles or telling you about his weird dream, he’s not stealing your blanket and demanding you play with his hair. this time, it’s not the same suguru—and this time, it’s not jujutsu high. 
it’s your room. the one you got on the other side of town to leave the sorcery world behind, somehow still stuck right in the center of it no matter where you go. and yet, just like all those years ago, your legs tangle, and your arms wrap him up, and you murmur, “you’re safe,” while he catches his breath. 
“but they’re not,” he mutters in between labored pants, making you pause. 
and then you remember. 
faintly, you recall the blonde and black hair from a distance, you remember bitterly wondering what’d it be like watching suguru fathering children of your own as you came to the reality that it would never happen. sometimes, you wonder if you hate nanako and mimiko for existing, for living as the dreams you never got to live through with suguru. 
it’s selfish—to hate two children because they are what you do not have. 
but then you feel something wet hit your neck, and then you wish they were okay—for his sake. and just for a moment, you’re selfless again. 
“they’re not safe,” he mutters, making you sigh. 
“they are,” you whisper, hesitating for a moment before letting your fingers slip into his hair. you scratch gently at his scalp, feeling his body melt into yours almost instantly—like it’s a response that’s natural to him. “they’re not suffering. not anymore.”
“is that supposed to make me feel better?” he scoffs. you shrug, letting your cheek press against the top of his head as you sigh.
“it helps me feel better,” you say softly, “‘s just how you learn to cope.”
it’s an understanding you both silently come to. loss on both sides. bloodshed on either ground. defeat no matter which ideal you take. to love is to bear the pain of mortality—it’s a lesson that you never cease to learn until the ends of time itself. 
“the jujutsu world is one of suffering,” he grits, sniffling into your neck. you hum, pressing a kiss to his head as your eyes close. 
“every world is one of suffering, suguru, you can’t erase them all. the sooner you realize that, the easier you’ll find peace.”
you fall into a slumber after that, faintly aware of the way he shuffles closer to you, faintly aware of the soft kiss pressed to your skin as sleep takes over your body and drifts you out of consciousness. 
when you wake up the next morning, suguru is gone, and the door is closed. the blanket is tucked up to your chin, and your neck still tingles from last night. 
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“get up,” you throw a pillow at suguru, waking him up with a start as he sits up. his hair is tousled and messy from sleep—it’s now long enough that he can put it in a bun without strands slipping from the bottom anymore. you chuckle as he glares at you, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he groans. 
“the fuck was that for?” he grunts, holding the blanket up to cover his exposed chest. 
it’s funny that he does that, in a way. it’s not as though you haven’t seen his chest…and then some too. it’s not like you haven’t torn his shirt off to stanch the flow of blood from his injuries before or feel the bare skin with your palm under the pale moonlight as the lingering scent of sex breezes through the room. 
but somehow, even though he doesn’t need to cover his chest around you of all people, you’re glad that he does. truthfully, it keeps you slightly comforted to know that he’s aware you’re still technically strangers—no matter how well-versed you are in each other’s pasts. but you don’t ponder on it too much. instead, you grin, shoving aside the visual of the small glance you caught at his pecs, and you clap your hands to motion him to hurry. 
“we are going grocery shopping,” you say casually—as though it’s not something to make him raise a brow in shock.
“me?” he points a finger at himself. you roll your eyes, and he challenges you with another raise of his brow. “aren’t i supposed to stay away from civilians?”
“yes, you,” you nod, pointing back at him, “and satoru has worked overtime to get you granted permission to roam around with me. he says you’re welcome, by the way.”
“tell him to go fuck off.”
“that’s ungrateful,” you say flatly, “his feelings will be hurt.”
“his feelings will find a way to cope,” suguru huffs. “i don’t want to be around…them,” he says bitterly. 
you suppose it’s wishful thinking to hope suguru has let go of his past beliefs. perhaps he’s long abandoned the possibility of the vision he once planned on bringing to life, but you can’t say you expected him to revert back to the old suguru who fought alongside you and satoru. you yourself certainly have no intention of returning to the sorcery world after all the events, so you can’t say you’re shocked by the lack of change he seems to show. but then again, you suppose suguru has changed. whether he sees it or not. 
he stays here and doesn’t put up a fight to leave even though he can now that he’s healed. he eats lunch when you tell him and even washes the dishes. sometimes, when you come home a bit late, dinner is even ready on the table as he sits and stares at you expectantly. his plate is empty like yours—like he’s been waiting for you even though he doesn’t need to. you suppose you can see he’s changed in the way he doesn’t scoff at the tv channels you surf through, he silently sits on the opposite end of the couch now and watches with you, and perhaps if you’re lucky, you’ll hear a light chuckle or a quiet sigh as the scenes roll on the screen. 
you suppose this suguru is a step closer to your suguru every day he spends with you, but you don’t know if any suguru is what you need right now. perhaps that name should’ve been buried away as a distant memory, perhaps it should’ve only been something you unlock once every year on his death anniversary—when satoru clambers through your door drunk and unsteady as he clutches the hand that killed his best friend, only to share pancakes with you in the morning and pretend like you don’t notice the dried tears on his cheeks while he acts like he doesn’t catch the way your hand shakes as you cut into your breakfast. 
but suguru is here now. whether it’s as geto, one half of the strongest duo in jujutsu high, whether it’s as suguru, the love of your life and the sole reason you exist, or whether it’s as geto suguru, the curse user and mass murderer who haunts your past, present, and everything in between. 
so you simply sigh, grab the pillow again, and hit the top of his head before walking over to the door as you call over your shoulder, “i’m gonna wait for you by the door in fifteen minutes. be ready or face the consequences..”
“no thanks. don’t wanna,” suguru grumbles petulantly, frowning at you as you stick your tongue at him, smirking as if you’ve just played your ace. 
“too bad,” you sing before swinging the door shut.
he’s at the door in exactly fifteen minutes, like he waited until the last possible second to join you as a move of spite. but you simply gesture him out the door and lock up, taking your sweet time as he stands there with an annoyed face. you stare at the doorknob once you’re done, taking a deep breath before turning to him with your best smile. 
“let’s go,” you hum.
“after you,” he mutters.
he grimaces as soon as he sees the people going about their business, clearly unhappy with the idea of being around non-sorcerers, but one sharp glare from you has him sighing and trekking along. the grocery store, admittedly, is not as bad as suguru thinks—in fact, there are lots of things he doesn’t realize he misses until he watches you grab a shopping cart. 
suddenly, he sees shadows. the silhouette of your figure climbing into the cart, the angry wave of satoru’s hands as he claims it's his turn to be pushed around, the figure of shoko pinching the bridge of her nose in irritation from the back—and then, he sees the dark shadow of baggy pants and a small bun. it’s him. suguru watches himself almost in slow motion through the remnants of his imagination as he gently shoves satoru out of the way and reaches to poke the tip of your nose before he pushes the cart with you in it.  
it’s a happy memory—and it’s gone all too soon.
as soon as he blinks, the shadows have disappeared—instead, it’s you waving a hand in his face, concern written on your features as you call his name. 
“suguru? hey, hello? are you with me?”
he exhales, pulled from his trance as he gently grabs your wrist from in front of his face and sets it down as he nods, “yeah, i’m fine. just thinking,” he mumbles. 
for a second, you hesitate, like you almost mean to say something. but in the end, you only nod before turning to grab the shopping cart. but he stops you—grabs the handle and turns to you with a small smile on his face, making you raise a brow as he gently moves you away. 
“what are you—”
“get in,” he grins, making you stare at him in bewilderment. 
“what?”
“just get in,” he sighs, “you love it when you get to sit in the cart.”
“i’m not a teenager anymore—”
“get in, will you?” he groans, “always so damn difficult.”
“hey,” you pout, glaring at him with your hands planted at your hips, “that’s rude.” it’s cute. suguru stares at you with amusement in his eyes and a soft look on his face that you don’t think you’ve really seen in years. 
“humor me,” he hums, “just get in, okay?”
so you do. 
with a huff and a grumble under your breath, you fight back a smile and climb into the damn cart just like old times. you swallow and try not to let it get to you when he reaches over and pokes the tip of your nose and pushes the cart around, letting you name off the things you need from your list while he grabs them. and when he sneaks snacks into the pile, you roll your eyes and glare at him in the way you always did—the one that isn’t actually annoyed. fond. happy to let it slide because it’s him.
“we need candy,” you murmur, “that’s the last thing on the list.”
“okay. what kind?” he asks, turning the cart into the candy aisle and smiling softly down at you.
“doesn’t matter, satoru eats anything as long as it’s sweet. he’s more likely to die from sugar than fighting a curse, i think.”
“you buy candy for satoru?” he asks, making you shrug as you reach over and grab a few bags of candy off the shelves, setting them down beside you. 
“he comes over a lot so i learned to keep stuff stocked up for him. you know how he gets when he’s hungry.”
suguru feels something he hasn’t felt since he was a teenager. jealousy—specifically of satoru. 
suguru is not foolish. he knows as soon as he meets gojo satoru that of the two, one of them is stronger and it’s definitely not himself. for the longest time, he’s okay with that, okay being the strongest only when alongside satoru—until he’s not. and even if suguru always had a bit more attention in the romance department than satoru, in his head he’s always known that perhaps satoru can keep you safer, more well off, maybe even happier. with smooth smiles and eyes as welcoming as an oasis, gojo satoru would never leave you in the dark pit of misery as suguru once had. 
something about the thought of you and satoru keeping each other company through the lonely years, filling that empty spot suguru left behind, sharing moments over candy and empty wrappers makes suguru wonder for a moment if perhaps he’d be happier if he stayed. maybe he could have worn a heartfelt smile in a world that carves them off the faces of sorcerers with bloody knives as long as you were there to wipe the blood.  
but before he can dwell on it, you snatch one more bag—this time of his favorite candy, placing it into the cart and grinning gently up at him. 
“i haven’t bought this one in years,” you admit, “i almost forget how it tastes.”
“me too,” he says quietly.
“well,” you hum, “we’ll have to have some when we’re home.”
home. you say it as though it belongs to him as much as it does you, and then like you always have, without even meaning to, you wash away the dark stains of his jealousy with no trace left behind.
“yeah,” he chuckles, “we—”
“daddy, look! candy!” suguru is cut off by the gentle pitter-patter of two tiny feet running into the aisle, pointing at a bag of candy as a man follows close behind. 
his breath hitches. 
she’s small, the girl—she has two pigtails with soft strands of blonde hair falling out of the loosely tied bands. it reminds suguru of the first time he perfected tying up nanako’s hair, the soft giggles behind her tiny hand as she twirled in the mirror. 
there’s another girl in the man’s arms—dark hair on her head as she curls into her father’s chest and tucks her head into his neck when she sees you and suguru in the aisle. she’s shy, he realizes, like mimiko, and suddenly he remembers the tiny fingers that used to hook into his pants when she got too overwhelmed by the people around her, waiting for suguru to scoop her into his arms. 
perhaps in another life, suguru would redo everything differently—he’d be happy with you and satoru and shoko, and nanami and haibara would be there too, well and alive. but no matter what, he’d never redo nanako and mimiko differently. he’d never change a thing about them, not even the way nanako whines too much about small things or the way mimiko never speaks up even when something is clearly bothering her. he’d never change the way he saved them and took them in at the tender age of eighteen, too lost to be a father but choosing to raise them anyway. he’d never change the feeling of pure joy and unbridled pride when they climbed into his bed for the first time, shushing each other so as not to wake him—even though he’d awoken as soon as the door to his room opened. 
because he realized that night that yeah, maybe he’d made mistakes in his lifetime, lots of them too. maybe he’d made a bad choice choosing the path he did, or maybe he didn’t. he’s never been completely sure—just that he had to try at least to make his vision for a different world come to life. but one mistake he never made was his girls. one thing he was always sure about was the soft clutch at his pants and the tiny hands reaching for his own.
suguru wouldn’t change anything about nanako and mimiko—except maybe the fact that they aren’t here, gone because of him. 
“suguru?” you ask softly, reaching for his hand as he grips the cart tightly and pulling his gaze away from the family in the distance. 
he blinks, meets your eyes, and knows that you know. with one glance at your face, he knows you understand. the world is cruel, one filled with suffering, he thinks. but then he remembers what you said, that every world is full of suffering, not just his—that it’s a truth he has to come face to face with.
but it’s hard. it’s hard when this man has his two little girls and suguru does not—it’s hard to watch someone have what he wants with no worries of losing it, all because of people and their own weaknesses. he thinks for a moment that he’s been right all along—that non-sorcerers are too weak for this life, that the jujutsu world has always suffered so they don’t have to. 
but then the man speaks up, catching both of your attention. 
“your mother used to love those,” he says quietly to his daughter, a pained smile on his face. instantly, you and suguru both seem to understand the weight of that single sentence. 
every world has its own pain, suguru realizes. its own cruelties and unfairness, its own way of bringing suffering in its wake as it rips away the things closest to you from your begging fingertips, leaving them cold and empty and numb from the lost weight underneath them. 
“let’s go, suguru,” you whisper, “we have everything we came for.”
“yeah,” he whispers back, clearing his throat so his voice doesn’t crack, “let’s go.”
suguru leaves the grocery store with you after you pay, and for a brief moment, he’s unsure. unsure whether he’s grateful to satoru for fighting for him to be able to come and grateful to you for dragging him along, or if he wishes he died along with the rubble, gone before you could find him and turn him into this.
“before you even think about hiding away in your room,” you say, grabbing the bags from the cart as you put it back where it belongs, “you have to help with putting away the groceries.”
“sure,” he says smoothly. he grabs all the heavy bags from your hand, and you make a move to protest that you don’t need him to take the heavier ones, that you’re fine and can handle them like you’ve always handled them. 
but he walks off, and finally, you decide to simply follow.
————————————————
satoru likes to come and visit—you’ve started a routine movie night every week (unless he’s away, of course.) it’s fun, but it also means he makes your veins pop because he’s a headache like that—always makes himself right at home and eats your snacks like this is his place and not yours. he helps himself to your already limited candy and puts his sock-clad feet up on the coffee table no matter how many times you tell him not to. 
you try sitting with legs as long as these, he always whines, earning a harsh glare from you as you smack at his shins until he ultimately caves and begrudgingly sets his feet down. 
but then they always make their way back up to the coffee table, and you’re too busy enjoying his company to care—although you’ll never admit it. 
satoru is endearing like that, swallowing the dark clouds from your shoulders whole and eating up your burdens with that side of responsibility that you don’t think you could ever stomach. satoru is just like that, you realize, taking the brunt of the weight and laughing off every concern until you can’t help but not take them seriously yourself. 
it’s hard to remember that sometimes you didn’t just lose suguru, the love of your life, that night. everyone lost something. shoko lost someone to smoke with, yaga lost a student to scold, nanami lost a headache to avoid, and satoru?
well…satoru lost what you think might’ve been the only filled void of his miserably empty life. 
it’s hard to remember that satoru lost his best friend—the only best friend he’s ever had (although you like to think of yourself as a close contender)—because he’s so good at letting you forget. he brings you ice cream (that he eats half of because it’s only fair he gets a share), and he sits and hogs your couch (that he argues you don’t really need as much space as him on because your legs aren’t as long), and he watches those stupid sitcoms that are dry with boring jokes (that you used to make suguru watch back in the day).
it’s hard to remember that satoru also lost as much as you because he’s so damn good at making you forget about your own loss, you don’t care to think about anyone else’s for a while. just a short while. just until he’s yawning that obnoxiously loud yawn and stretching those awkwardly long limbs of his before he claims he really should go and that being the world’s best teacher requires as many hours of beauty sleep as you can squeeze in. 
and then he’s off. and it’s empty again. and just like that, you’re reminded of why he was there in the first place—to fill in that sick and painful void that geto suguru left in you. 
it’s gaping, like he tore a chunk of you right out with sharp teeth, like you’re just a piece of meat for him to get his fill of. if suguru really loved you, would you be so easy to let go of? why couldn’t he smile? because you could—god, you could smile just from the sight of him alone, you realize a long time ago. him with his cigarette tucked between his lips, those death sticks as you called them, hung loosely from his mouth as he gives you a lopsided grin. 
geto suguru is enough of a reason to smile. the world could crumble at your feet and leave you with nothing but rubble and dirt, and still, suguru is the core of the earth you’re searching for. 
so why couldn’t you be the same? what is it you were missing? what about you was just not enough for him like the way he was enough for you? 
it dawns on you one night, through bitter tears and shaky sobs, and that sick, twisted, pleading feeling in your gut that begs the wind to carry him back to you—geto suguru has never loved you the way you loved him.
and for that, you can never forgive him, you don’t think.
“you tryin’ to go bug-eyed?” he asks, settling down on the couch next to you, making you snap out of your trance. you shake your head a little, stare back at him for a moment before putting on that look on your face where you roll your eyes and pretend everything is fine.
“no,” you huff, “i’m just thinking.”
“about…?”
“satoru has rarely ever missed a movie night.”
“maybe he’s sick of you,” he shrugs, grinning slyly at you as you narrow your eyes with a glare, “there’s someone here to keep you company now so he’s probably taken his opportunity to run.”
“you’re hardly company,” you scoff, “freeloader.”
“hey,” he defends, shrugging as if it’s not his fault. you suppose it’s not. “i didn’t ask to be rescued. you can’t be high and mighty and petty. ‘s not how that works.”
“says who? you don’t make the rules. i can be graciously kind and a jerk all at once.”
“complexity,” he nods, “i like it.”
“i’m not as complicated as you might think,” you grumble, crossing your arms as you stare at the time. yeah, satoru isn’t making it—which, he told you as much, but he’s strolled in at the last second too many times to count before. you figure today would be the same. “as long as you don’t skip movie nights with me, i’m pretty simple to keep appeased.”
“alright,” he props his feet up on the coffee table—seriously, what is it with asshole men putting their feet on your table? satoru is a terrible influence. “let’s have a movie night.”
“what?” you blink.
“movie night,” he repeats, “you said you don’t like skipping movie night—”
“well, i meant i don’t like satoru skipping movie—”
“well, it was me before satoru, wasn’t it?” he says with a smile. his eyes are closed, crinkled at the corners, but his voice is carefully neutral—like he takes extra care not to let you see any emotion behind it. 
but that only means there is an emotion, isn’t there? is he jealous? does he hate the fact that you and satoru have a routine of your own without him? that you don’t need him to continue living your life? 
good. he should be. he walked out on you all those years ago. he killed a village. killed his parents. you never even got to meet them—he never even got to take you home and introduce you to them before he ripped away every fantasy you ever had with him. 
and now he’s back—he has the audacity to live, to laugh in your face with his existence that yes, geto suguru is here. and he was supposed to be executed, but your stubborn friend didn’t let that happen. he was supposed to be your husband by now with kids and a happy little home, and you were supposed to be his parent’s new addition to their family that they loved so much. but none of that is even close to happening, and it’s suguru’s fault, and the least he can do is show you some regret and maybe feel just the slightest bit bad that you now have to watch shitty movies with his best friend instead of him to feel normal. 
ex-best friend? half best friend? you don’t even know—do they still consider each other their best friends? does anyone consider suguru anything? you don’t know what you consider him. but you think the least he can do is act just the slightest bit pathetic after making you feel so pathetic for so long just to even the score. 
he should be a stranger. he feels like an old friend. but either is dangerous. 
“alright,” you sigh, “let's bring back movie night. don’t fall asleep.”
“i get plenty of sleep nowadays,” he hums, “i have more than enough free time for that now.”
“how lucky of you,” you snort. 
picking a movie with suguru is difficult. he actually has standards—satoru watches anything so long as he gets snacks, and he can make anything fun to watch with the way he comments from the side like a critic. suguru, on the other hand, actually cares about the quality of a movie, the metrics that make it good. 
so you pick the hunger games just to piss him off. 
“seriously?” he raises a brow, “this is your pick?”
“yes,” you grin, “i like these movies.”
“of all movies—”
“my house, my rules,” you grin cheekily, “you can pick the movies as soon as you start paying the bills.”
“wow,” he deadpans, “stooping to use my financial status against me? i thought you were better than this.”
“oh suguru,” you sigh dramatically, grabbing a bag of chips from the table, “you don’t know me at all.”
all things considered, you think it’s a rather enjoyable experience. it’s not as fun without satoru’s stupid comments that you pretend to hate, but suguru provides his own commentary that earns a giggle out of you here and there too—although his are not meant to be funny. but that’s the appeal of it, you think. 
“she should have picked gale,” he mumbles. you raise a brow.
“peeta was always there for her, did you miss the rain scene?”
“so was gale,” he says smoothly, grabbing a chip from your bag and making you scowl.
“gale killed her sister,” you point out, “and a lot of other people too. he was ruthless. she needed peeta.”
“gale did what he had to do,” suguru mumbles. 
suddenly, it doesn’t really feel like you’re discussing the movie anymore. it feels more than that. it feels sickening—the air is heavy, and your throat is dry and god, you just wanted a movie night and not this heaviness as you talk about stuff from the past without actually talking about it. 
you blink before turning to your chips, playing around with the bag as you shrug. 
“in the end he didn’t get katniss, did he?”
suguru studies you for a moment, stares a little too deep into you that you start to feel the urge to bolt to your room and go to bed. 
“guess not,” he says quietly, “guess that’s the one regret he has, huh?”
you think for a second, as suguru stares at your eyes with something you can’t quite read, that you might cry. you might cry and throw that half-empty can of soda in his face for speaking in codes and making you question what he means and remember your past. you might cry because suguru could’ve always gotten you—in fact, he had you.
it’s not fair. nothing is, but you can’t help but dwell on it.
“i’m going to bed. it’s late,” you mumble after a few moments, standing. he only nods, staring at the tv as the credits roll. when you make it to your room and the door shuts behind you, you debate clicking the lock in place. 
in the end, you don’t lock the door. suguru climbs into bed with you once more later that night, shaking slightly from his nightmare but calmer than usual. he’s still gone by the time morning comes, and you still never mention it.
it hits you one night that maybe he still has you—maybe you never let him stop having you, no matter what you say.
————————————————
suguru is good at cleaning while you’re away. you have to go out and do adult things like breadwinning and grocery shopping and bill paying. he dusts and cleans and even takes out the trash when you’re home to monitor him as he steps two feet out of your front door. sometimes, because you like to get on his nerves, you accidentally mess up a corner of the house just as he cleans it, laughing as he shoots you an unimpressed look. 
“stop getting crumbs on the floor,” he mumbles, “i just vacuumed.”
“you make a good malewife,” you giggle, “vacuuming and everything. how cute.”
“don’t call me that,” he grumbles, sitting down on the couch. 
“but you missed a spot,” you point to the crumbs you’ve sprinkled from your fingers as you snack away, making him glare. “failwife.”
“i’m going to divorce you and take everything,” he snaps, making you snort as you put your hands up in surrender.
“you don’t have to, you know,” you murmur, “clean, i mean. i can handle it.”
“i think i should carry my weight around here,” he shrugs, “since you are basically sugar babying me around for now.”
“dangerous curse user to the world, but sugar baby to me,” you tease, pulling a chuckle out of him as he rolls his eyes. 
sometimes it’s nice to have his company. suguru is good with banter like that, he’s not annoying like satoru where you run in circles. suguru makes you laugh from your belly, makes the hiccups catch in your throat as you double over. he’s always been like that, always known how to make laughter pour from your lips and trickle down your chin. it’s comforting to know he still knows how. it leaves a small amount of bitterness that he’s still able to make you feel like this. 
“by the way, next time you go shopping, take me with you,” he says casually, “i need to buy stuff for my hair. it’s growing.”
“you’ll finally see the sun just for your hair?” you gasp, “who knew that’s all it’d take?”
despite the playfulness in your words, there’s still shock. suguru is willingly stepping foot outside your house. he’s finally choosing to return to life after living like a recluse no matter how many times you and satoru have tried to beg him to get up and go somewhere. the most you can get out of him is a walk around the neighborhood before he goes back to wandering your home and hiding away in his room. 
suguru is returning to life, his life, and you can’t help but wonder where that leaves room for you.
“my hair is my charm,” he reasons, “wouldn’t you agree?”
there’s a smirk on his lips when he asks—it’s like he’s seventeen and teasing you again, giving you that unfairly flirty smile that used to make you stutter as a kid. back when you were hopelessly in love. back when it was you, suguru, and the world in your corner. back when you had dreams of your future, practically giggling as you planned it away in a notebook. 
suguru was always perfect like that, the kind of guy you could only dream about. he’s always been handsome—he’s always been the center of attention everywhere you went. you used to huff about it, about all the attention he managed to get from walking into a room alone. but then he’d smile, give you that tender look of his as he’d chuckle, and you’d be hopeless again. 
he shouldn’t have that effect on you anymore after over a decade. but he does. it’s cruel, the way the universe works. it’s like there’s a magnet that pushes you together no matter how far you try to go, still pulled by gravity straight into his awaiting eyes and devilish smile.
“i cut your hair off once, i can do it again,” you huff. he laughs, it’s good-natured and kind. 
“i was a bit heartbroken when i realized it was so short, i have to admit,” he says, “i didn’t look like me.”
“you looked good,” you say quietly, “i think you’d make anything work, to be honest.”
“yeah?” he grins, “any requests? i might consider it if it’s you.”
“oh shut up,” you roll your eyes, “how about shaving your head bald? let's see how much charm you have without all that hair.”
“i could charm you without the hair still, couldn’t i?” he winks. 
it’s unfair how he acts like normal. like a few months in your home undoes everything he’s ever committed, all the atrocities he’s caused. the way he flirts with you feels like you’re his again. the way he’s aged and changed feels like you’re meeting someone new. you don’t understand how suguru is so natural with that—with seamlessly falling back into a rhythm with you like nothing has changed at all.
deep down, you know that suguru is just moving on with his life. he’s making the most of what he can. he can’t die, satoru would never let him have a peaceful death after all this. he can’t go back to the way things used to be, whether that’s his sorcery days or his curse user days, and he certainly can’t start over. so he’s making do with what he has—which is very little in reality.
it’s you, your home, and the biweekly visits from satoru and occasionally shoko. so he weaves you seamlessly into his life and treats you with a sense of normalcy you can’t hope to treat him with. maybe it’s because suguru was actually able to move on after he left. 
it’s the part you hated him most for. for building a family with new people. for having two girls that he raised as daughters. for finding people to follow him and trust. suguru, after he walked away from everything he ever knew, actually did something with his life—even if it could hardly be considered good. 
you? you fell deeper and deeper into a pit of denial until clawing your way back out was too impossible, until you had to leave behind everything you’ve ever known to get away from the remnants of his existence. 
it’s easy for him to weave you back into his life because he chose to cut you loose. it feels damn near impossible to let him weave back into yours after he tore himself from the edges and frayed away. 
“don’t do that,” you sigh, making him frown.
“do what?”
“you know what, suguru,” you pinch your nose in frustration, “stop acting like things are normal.”
“things are definitely not normal,” he snorts bitterly, “i think needing your approval to take the trash out is not equal to normal.”
“then why are you acting like…” you trail off, unsure.
“like what?” he raises a brow. 
“like we never changed,” you slam your hands down on the couch in exasperation. 
he stares at you for a minute, blinks once, then twice, and then furrows his brows.
“well, of course we changed,” he mumbles in confusion, “i know that—”
you shouldn’t have said anything. you quickly realize that. suguru is not trying to act like things are normal—he’s trying to be civil, and you’re just a fool. a fool who looks too deeply into everything and assumes what you want to out of things and god, you’ve embarrassed yourself in front of your one and only ex-boyfriend in over a decade who was once dead and somehow came back to the land of the living.
of course, he knows things are not the same. he doesn’t want what you think he does. it’s been years and suguru has moved on—he had already moved on all those years ago, and you’re the only one here that is still focused on the past. and now he knows it too. 
you stand before he can finish, nodding as you stare down instead of meeting his eyes, pretending to adjust your clothes. 
“right, of course you do,” you nod, “i don’t know why i said that. just ignore me, i’ll be going to my room now. i have…things to do, so i’ll be—”
“hang on,” he frowns, hand grabbing your wrist, “i don’t mean it like that,” he says gently.
fuck geto suguru for being so confusing and fuck him for being nice about it too. 
“you can let go, suguru,” you pull at your wrist, “forget what i said, i wasn’t thinking—”
“i still feel the same,” he cuts you off, making your eyes widen, “if that’s what you mean. i never stopped.”
never stopped—that’s almost worse than moving on. how could he have felt the same all those years and still never come back?
“that does not help even a little,” you swallow the lump in your throat. “that makes this so much worse, do you see that?”
“i know,” he sighs, “i’m sor—”
“don’t say you’re sorry,” you grit your teeth, “we both know you’re not.”
“maybe not,” he admits, “i had to try. and that meant leaving—i’m sorry that’s not what you wanted.”
“it’s not!” you turn around, pulling your arm out of his grasp—suguru, for what it’s worth, takes the shove to his chest like a champ. “of course i didn’t want you to leave and kill a bunch of people and have an execution stamped on your forehead and live your life without me.”
“i know—”
“and now you’re back. back! in my house, eating my food and sleeping in my bed for half the night and i just have to act like this is normal. how is any of this normal?” 
“it’s not,” he agrees. he’s calm. so calm, it almost makes you mad. why is he so calm? “nothing about anything in our lives is normal. it never was.”
“you ruined my life,” you blink back tears. he smiles sadly, taking a step closer.
“i guess i can take the blame for that,” he nods, hands finding their way to your hips. against your better judgment, you lean half your weight against his body. this is bad, very bad—but it’s also the best thing ever. 
being close to suguru feels like the sun’s heat tearing through your skin—it’s warm. it’s pleasant. it leaves you parched and drained with a dry throat. but still, you need it to survive. 
“why did you come back?” you ask tiredly. his hand finds the small of your back, rubbing slow circles.
“i don’t know,” he hums, “i didn’t really get a say. maybe i was always meant to, who knows?”
you look at him at that—tilt your head to get a good look at his features. his eyes are more tired, and his cheeks are a bit more sunken in compared to the youthful flesh you remember him with. his hair isn’t as healthy, and his forehead has the slightest traces of pale marks from the scars. but he’s still suguru—and you have always loved suguru, even if he gives you every reason to hate him.
“you make my life unreasonably difficult,” you mutter.
he hums, smiling. “can i?” he asks breathlessly, pleadingly. you stare at his eyes, he stares at your lips. you know what he wants—but fuck, you can’t let him have it so easy. 
“can you what?” you ask, raising a brow slowly.
“are you really gonna make me say it?” he grunts, lips almost curled into a pout. it’s cute, the way he looks longingly at your lips—it’s so cute and beautiful and dangerous all at once, just like suguru. 
“yes,” you say, “yes i am. i deserve to hear it suguru, after everything you put me through. you…you left me. i wasn’t enough for you. i mourned you. i grieved a body i never even saw. do you know what that does to a person? to lose them not once but two times? the least you could do is tell me what you want,” your voice wavers just a little. 
it shakes for the lost time. for the moments you’ll never have. for the memories you lost. for the past that’s tainted. time is cruel like that. but that’s the beauty of it all—the fragility. it’s like sand falling through the cracks of your fingers, every grain slipping from your reach but still soft and soothing against your skin as it falls. everything fades over time, everything starts to hurt one way or another. but it stops. it heals. it starts over. the sand fills the cup of your palms again, warm and delicate and just as beautiful as before it crumbled. 
“can i kiss you?” he asks desperately, “please?”
“kissing me is not a temporary thing,” you shake your head, “not anymore. it’s for good. only for good.”
“i want to kiss you for good,” he nods, hands digging into your hips impatiently. you’re close. you’re too far. he can feel you, smell you, hear your unsteady breaths. but it’s not enough. he needs to devour you, taste you on his tongue, and melt you with his touch. “i won’t stop this time,” he promises. 
“you better not,” you sniffle, tears blurring your vision. you hated suguru for leaving you. you hated him for coming back to you like this. you never stopped loving him, never will stop loving him—and maybe that’s what love is. when the darkness is worth trekking through for the afterglow of the light. “if you fucking leave me again, you’re dead to me. i don’t care how many times you come back to life. you’re dead to me.”
“okay,” he agrees through a shaky chuckle, “i suppose i deserve that. let me kiss you, yeah?”
“yeah,” you breathe.
he kisses you—years too late, he kisses you. it feels like you’re teenagers again. it feels different and foreign. you know this feeling like the back of your hand. you don’t understand what this sensation is anymore. it’s new. it’s old. it’s perfect. it hurts. suguru is here. he promised not to leave—you don’t know if you believe him, but you’re going to trust that finally, for once, you are enough. 
you’re enough to make him happy. to give him a sense of purpose. to keep him swimming when his limbs start to sink. 
finally, for once, you’re enough. 
“i love you,” he whispers against your mouth, breathing the words into you like he’s offering you the air from his lungs, “i never stopped. i promise.”
“you don’t deserve to hear it from me,” you murmur back, panting against his lips, “not yet.”
“fair enough,” he chuckles, “you sure know how to leave a guy waiting.”
“i learned from the best,” you shoot back.
he grins—suguru smiles, heartfelt and real. life is full of misery, it’s painful, and nothing fucking makes sense. everything is cruel. everything dies no matter how carefully you water the roots. there’s always something, someone, ready to tear it from the earth. but if you keep planting the seeds, suguru will keep watering. 
maybe something kind can bloom from that, something big enough for him to hide under the shade when the scorching heat of tragedy becomes too much. 
in this world or in the jujutsu world; in this life or in the next. suguru is yours.
“why am i here?” he asks gently, his face digging into your neck. you hold him, cradling the back of his head as you hum. 
“because i need you here. will you stay?”
“yes,” he murmurs, “i think i’ll stay.”
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hi. i have been working on this since march. its still not how i envisioned it to be originally but that's okay. i had fun writing it and it means a lot to me even tho its kind of. well....cliche LMAO like everything i write. but. i enjoy the cliches okay ?? i do. kxljchskdf hope u guys didn't hate it </3
also the fic banner is …. not the greatest. just ignore it ok
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babygorewhore · 3 months
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Daddy issues
After your dad is arrested, you try and beg for his job back. But Rafe Cameron decides another way for you to help your father. And his arrangement is different than you imagine.
Warnings! Daddy kink! Talks of violence! Slight reference to abuse! Choking! Blow job! Rough unprotected sex! Breeding kink! Virginity loss! Dirty talk!
You didnt know if you were more angry or surprised when you got the call from the officer that your dad was arrested and currently in jail for assault. You were finished working your late shift at the restaurant when your phone rang.
You screamed in your car on the way to the station. Your dad was a dead beat. An asshole who didn’t know how to fucking control his temper. Daddy dearest also liked to get loud with you, throw things when he didn’t get his way and one time he slapped you in the face.
You slapped him back and threatened to slash his tires. But the threat was empty considering he needed to work, which you had no idea how he kept his job at the docks while working for Rafe Cameron. It used to be his father Ward until his suicide. You’d met him often while picking your dad up, given you had to share a car.
He was…polite you could say. But he was also scary. He glared at everyone and he was short tempered. You usually heard him snapping or yelling if something wasn’t done right. Your dad complained about how strict he was.
But his status and wealth made everyone obey him and intimidated you. His attractiveness however was on another level. His height made you feel small and his blue eyes cut through people.
You slammed the door at the station and went to the desk. After signing in, you tapped your foot impatiently as an officer came up to you.
“Are you…?”
“My dad is here. He just got arrested.” You ground out. You hated being here. She nodded and looked at paperwork in front of her.
“Are you here to post bail?”
“I’m here to see if there’s any way we can clear this up as a misunderstanding.” You tried to plead but she shook her head.
“Ma’am, he attacked a man at a stoplight. He beat him up to the point he lost one of his teeth.”
You pressed your head against your hand. Jesus Christ it was worse than you thought. “How much is bail?”
She looked again at the paperwork. “Looks like we’re at 6,000 dollars.”
“What? I thought the bail was lower than that!” You shrieked.
“Ma’am. He also had multiple charges. Public intoxication, disturbance and assault. He caused a lot of trouble. I suggest you alert his job tomorrow. But until then, he’s going to spend at least 60 days in jail.”
You started crying. You couldn’t help it. It hurt so much. You couldn’t get a break. And now you’d have to face Rafe Cameron and face the humiliation of your dad being in jail.
You cried on and off the next day as you had to switch your schedule to the evening and make the phone call to your dads manager about his current situation. It was immediate termination and you broke down even harder in your bedroom. You refused to take his phone call, afraid you’d explode on him.
As you got ready for another dreaded work shift, your phone started ringing to a number you didn’t recognize. Hesitantly, you answered.
“Hello?”
“Your dads in jail, huh?” You immediately froze. It was Rafe’s voice. How did he-well he was capable of finding anything out.
“I-um. Yes. And he can’t work for you anymore. But if you’ll please reconsider. I know he’s a piece of shit but this is the only job he’s lasted out and we desperately need the money. I’m trying to get a car and we have to share one. I know this is probably pointless but I can’t help but try. So please, please take him back.” More tears came and you felt like a total cry baby but you pushed through.
You expected him to laugh but instead silence met you.
You bit your lip hard enough it bled.
“Meet me at my house. I’ll text you the address. I have a proposition for you.”
“Why can’t you tell me over the phone?” Your stomach tightened.
“Do you want me to help you or not?”
“Yes. Of course. I’ll be there.”
“Good girl.”
You set the phone down but seconds later his address came through in a text and your breath stopped short. He wanted to see you after work.
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Five minutes before closing and after you finished cleaning, the drive to Rafe’s house wasn’t that far and now you knocked on his door. When he answered, you tried not to reveal how much you found him attractive. His hair was in his face and his eyes were glazed as he looked down at you. His fingers twitched and you imagined what he was doing with that hand…
Rafe gestured with his head for you to come in and you followed him inside the massive penthouse. He had everything you imagined. Expensive furniture, floors and lights.
You followed him to the kitchen where he pointed to the bar stool. “Have a seat.” He muttered.
You obeyed and watched as he circled the island in the center of the room. “So. You wanna save your dads job?”
“Yes. I’m willing to do anything-“ You stopped short when a smirk fell on his face.
“Anything?” Rafe challenged. “It looked like you hated him whenever I saw you talk to him.”
“It’s complicated.” You replied and his smirk grew into a cruel smile.
“Looks like someone has daddy issues.” Rafe countered and you crossed your arms.
“I-well when you put it that way-“
“I’m just bringing up what you’re telling me. Your dad beats the shit out of someone. He went to jail-and now you’re doing anything you can to fix it. Tell me if I missed anything.” Rafe’s voice was low and you hated that he was right.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound pushy. I’m just in a tight spot.”
“Oh I’m sure you’re in a…tight spot.” His meaning was clear and you swallowed.
That was the exchange.
“Look at you. Being a little smart girl and figuring it out. I’m gonna get to the point. You want me to take him back? Bail him out? I get to fuck you. Anywhere. Anytime. And anyplace I want. No condoms. No hidden birth control. No. I wanna see my cum leak out of that desperate pussy.”
Your mouth opened and closed. “I can’t just fuck a stranger. And no birth control? I can’t fucking get pregnant.”
“I’m a selfish whore, baby. And I can afford one. And those are my terms. Either that. Or your dad rots.”
You bit your lip. You weren’t in a position to say no. You needed the money. And Rafe was hot. There were worse guys. Rafe got closer, his big hands reaching to cup the side of your neck.
“Yeah? You want it?”
Slowly, you nodded.
Rafe crooked a finger, signaling you to come closer. You stepped down and approached him gingerly and looked into his gaze. Rafe then latched his hand around your throat. His grip was so strong your feet almost lifted in the air and your eyes widened as he crushed his lips to yours.
His lips devoured you as he shoved his tongue into your mouth. You weren’t experienced. Sure, you’d touched yourself and made out with people.
But actual fucking? You’d never done that. And you knew that was about to change.
“You want me to take care of you, don’t you?” Rafe loosened his hold on your neck and pressed you against the island counter, “need someone to be your daddy?”
Your hands flew to his chest as you brought him impossibly closer, his lips sucked your skin with bruising force. You opened your mouth as he slipped his fingers inside.
“Suck.” He commanded and you listened. Spit gathering on your lips as he kneed your legs apart and lifted you up on the counter.
“Need daddy to help you? Fill you up with my cum?” His dirty words made your cunt twitch as he started toying the end of your skirt. Your thighs dampened as he trailed his thick fingers along your flesh, his fingers grazing the wet patch of your underwear.
You started grinding to give any friction against your arousal as he apparently changed his mind and threw you to the ground by underneath your arms. Rafe gestured to the crotch of his pants. “Consider this your first payment, baby. You ever done this before?”
You shakily remained silent as he huffed an amused laugh.
“Really? A girl who’s such a perv that she’s willing to fuck someone giving her money? Never would have guessed. I guess I’ll be nice and help you.”
Rafe undressed his lower half, his cock leaked with precum and he took your hand. “Swipe it with your thumb, get it all wet.” His massive hand compared to yours was almost comical as he grabbed the back of your head.
“Open your mouth, princess. And remember to breathe through your nose.”
After that, he silenced whatever worries you had by shoving his dick forward. You run your tongue along the thick underside, lessening some of the heavy weight by massaging with your hand. You took the tip through your mouth, shoving down any nerves as you sucked. Rafe bobbed your head up and down as he pushed you further, your head bouncing as your eyes squeezed shut.
“No, no, open your slutty eyes and look at me.” He growled. He leaned over the arch of the space between the counter and where you sank on your knees. The skin of his cock was supple as you continued aiding with your hand. It was hot to the touch.
“Good fucking girl. Maybe I’ll reward you by fucking your pussy.” He started thrusting and hitting the back of your throat. “Breathe. Breathe through your nose.” He wiped a few tears away with his thumb as you listened to him.
You knew he was getting closer as he stopped talking, his breathing heavier as he moved your head. His cum spilled inside your mouth, as he released you and you coughed.
“Not bad for your first time. We’re gonna practice some more.” Rafe smirked as his face was flushed and his fist flexed.
He moved on top of you on the floor, hiking up your skirt and ripping off your panties. He spread apart your wet cunt and dipped his middle finger inside your clenching entrance. “You’re such a whore. Never done any of this and you’re already gonna cum. Should have known you’d be daddy’s cum slut.”
Rafe yanked your legs apart, and spit on your pussy. “Not that it needed it, but I’m gonna be a little more kind to you.” You shrieked as he grabbed your jaw.
“Are you on birth control?”
“No.” You quickly answered. “Never-never needed-“
“Good. And you’re not going to. Got it?” Rafe moaned as he pushed his tip in your pussy, “fuck you’re so tight.”
You winced from discomfort but then his knuckles hit your clit, aiding to relieve your tension as he circled them. “Gonna make you mine. Take you away from all that shit.” He grunted as he pushed further.
Rafe let you wrap your arms around his neck as he thrusted.
“Tell daddy you like it.”
“I like it.” You sobbed as he moved harder. “I like it, daddy.”
It was slightly shameful how quickly you came all over him and spilled onto your legs. Rafe also came again and you felt it inside you. He was serious about no protection.
He stayed for a few seconds before getting up. And pulling his pants back on. He extended his hand and pulled you up. You knew you were a sight to be seen, fucked out eyes and messy hair. You just lost your virginity to Rafe Cameron.
You cleared your throat and watched him sweep his eyes over your face. “So. My dad?”
He shrugged. “He’s already out.”
You paled. “What?”
“I posted bail a few minutes before you got here. But as for his job, you’re gonna have to work harder than that. I have conditions.”
“But I already said-“
“More than just fucking you, baby girl. I own you now. You are mine and no one gets to even think about fucking you. I will cross any line you make to keep me away. And if you try, I will punish you.”
“I didn’t do anything wrong.” You whimpered as he loomed over you.
“And?” He mocked. “You already agreed. You need me. Don’t you?” He cupped your jaw. Tightly but not as harsh.
“Yeah.” You leaned in to his touch. Your defenses are completely down. You needed care. You were always working. Always cleaning up after someone’s mess. And now…he was going to take care of you.
And either make your daddy issues better.
Or worse.
@xxhellfirebunnyxx @imyourdaninow @lesservillain @take-everything-you-can @slvt4jamesmarch @ifeeltoofuckingmuch @scene-and-dandylover @emsgoodthinkin
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charliemwrites · 5 months
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Part 2 of charmed serial killer Simon. (Part 1 is here.)
This part is heavily inspired by this particular Badjhur audio “Surviving the Slasher” from, like, a long time ago. Where he’s a killer. Easier to find than expected, thank you masterlist. It permanently has a room in my pea brain, no rent, utilities included.
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You’re out with your little friends again. Simon scoffs to even call them that. You give them so much more than they even try to give you - support, encouragement, time, energy.
One of them has a shitty deadbeat boyfriend that’s throwing a flat party, so they’ve dragged you along per usual. You’re still swearing off alcohol after the last time you went out - when you got a ride home with him. So you’re totally sober when the rest of the idiots suggest “investigating” the abandoned hospital on the other end of the block.
You go with them as the only fully-sober one, but spend the whole, stumbling trip trying to convince them to go somewhere, anywhere, else.
Apparently the boyfriend fancies himself something of an urban explorer because he knows just how to get in, bragging that he’s going to start some stupid internet show looking for ghosts there. You end up getting knocked into a half dozen times just trying to keep your woozy friends from getting tetanus.
It doesn’t take long at all for someone to suggest hide and seek. You try adamantly to put your cute little foot down - reminding them that it’s dirty and structurally unstable and there could be people just trying to camp out in peace in here. You’re adamantly ignored and your friends scatter.
And Simon starts to hunt.
Oh, he wishes he could have seen your face when the screams first started. If you recognized the shriek of Addy, the one who yanked you away from a proper apology when you first bumped into him at the bar. Wonders if you felt anything when Simon stabbed her boyfriend in the stomach and sent him stumbling away to incite more terror.
Of course you did. His pretty little chatterbox, coming to the rescue as soon as you heard their cries.
You get yourself lost trying to find someone, anyone. He picks off your group one. By. One. He finds you trying to triage a nasty slice to Heather’s thigh. She was talking shit about you just two days ago to Addy.
And oh, how brave you are, trying to stick with her to the very end. All it takes is one well-placed throw and you’re scrambling back as Heather burbles blood.
He takes a single, loud step towards you - and you bolt. Such a smart thing, you don’t even glance back to see if he’s following. He’s not; there’s still trash to take care of.
You find one more friend - one he doesn’t mind so much, mostly because you just met tonight. She’s crying, making a fuss and you’re trying to soothe her while still focused on escape, letting her cling to your arm.
Simon starts herding you both towards an easy exit. A few well placed foot falls here, a jaunty whistle there. He loves watching your big eyes dart toward the noises, how you get low like a bunny hiding in brush. Always put yourself between your new friend and wherever you think he could come from.
Your friends’ blood is beginning to dry when he decides it’s time to wrap things up.
He appears in a doorway, and you shove at your fellow survivor, make her squeeze through the rusty door first. You’re just starting to follow when he snags you around the middle. You yelp, feet kicking at air, tugging at his soaked hoodie sleeve.
He shoves your back against a wall and presses close, the flat of his knife against your pretty cheek.
“What did we learn tonight, hm?” he mocks.
You’re flinching away, but know better than to struggle or scream. So clever.
“W-why are you doing this?” you ask.
How sweet, that you can’t understand the motivations of monsters like him. He indulges you.
“To teach you a lesson,” he answers. “Get better friends.”
You look furious, even as tears well in your eyes. He coos over them, tugs the bottom of his mask up enough to lick them as they fall down your cheek.
“S-Stop, that’s - that’s so gross,” you hiccup, pancaking yourself to the wall.
He snorts in amusement and tugs his mask down again.
“Now, I know you’re a good girl with good manners, so let’s see them.”
You blink at him, eyes soooo big. Don’t understand what he means.
He tuts. “Say: thank you, ghost, for teaching me a valuable lesson.”
You press your lips together in a tight, pouty line. He wants to bite them. Instead, taps the point of the knife against your jaw. A silent threat that’s he’s still debating if he means.
But you manage to get the sentence out, stuttering, voice breaking halfway through. Mm, he’s missed hearing your gratitude. It’s almost sweeter this way than all the times you said it in his car.
“You’re very welcome, sunshine. Now, off you go, before I decide to teach you something else.”
You don’t hesitate when he steps back. Peel yourself off the wall and wriggle out to freedom.
Simon chuckles. What a fun little playdate, he’s so glad he let you go that first time. He’ll have to arrange another one soon.
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evie-sturns · 3 months
Text
𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞 - 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬 𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨
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summary: you and chris have a major argument, which results in you storming out of you and chris's house. he regrets everything, but it results in him saying 'i love you' for the first time.
warnings: angst, swearing, argument, crying, fluff, happy ending!
-----------------**✿❀○❀✿**--------------------
me and chris have been dating for two months, we've never fought, i mean we've bickered, but never a real argument. we've done alot together, we have a house together, 2 cats, we've hooked up tens of times, but never said those 3 words.
'i love you'.
i think both of us are just terrified of scaring the other person away.
-
"chris! i'm home!" i say, walking through the front door as i put my purse down.
no response.
chris is sitting on the couch, my phone on his lap.
"why do you have my phone baby?" I say, jumping down next to him.
"i think we both know." his voice is filled with emotion, he clenched the pepsi can in his right hand tighter.
i reach out a hand, placing it gently on his thigh, he grabs my wrist and throws my hand towards me, my shoulder is tweaked slightly.
"don't fucking touch me!" he says, looking at me in disgust, raising his voice as he stands up.
my eyebrows furrow from pure confusion as i follow him, standing up and facing him.
"tell me whats happening christopher." i say sternly, my shoulder pulses from the sudden jolt.
chris knows when i use his full name i mean it, i don't just throw it around because of how formal it is.
chris glares down at me before slamming the pepsi can to the floor.
"all these fucking months, all these hookups, all these deep talks, everything meant nothing to you?!" he yells, my heart sinks, ive never liked people yelling at me.
i've always had an attitude, chris knows how to deal with it.
"look, if you dont open your fucking mouth instead of flaming me for something i don't even know, i'm out of here yeah?" i snap back, folding my arms.
"you're so pathetic." he mutters, pushing my shoulder back.
"stop touching me chris!" i scream. squeezing my eyes shut and clenching my fists like a toddler.
he scoffs.
a silence grows before i flop down on the couch, clutching my shoulder. i pat the spot next to me, signalling for him to sit down, hoping we can talk it out.
he takes a step back before yelling, "go call mark, cause he clearly loves you so much!" his voice cracking.
my eyes widen.
"so fuck you!" he yells, i stand up.
his cheeks are flushed his eyes are glossy, chris's bottom lip is quivering.
my gaze softens, but instantly flicks back to a harsh one as chris starts again.
"im done with you're shit y/n, go home! for once in your life just leave. me. alone." he says, his tone cold.
i've never cried in front of chris, i don't cry often and if i do, im always alone. but the way he was looking at me broke something in me.
several tears fall down my cheek as i look up at chris. the tears increase as i just stare at him, his mouth gapes slightly. his eyebrows tilt up above his nose.
i push past him, grabbing my purse and running out the door, chris is speed-walking after me, before i slam the door shut, i yell out.
"by the way chris. mark is my fucking dad." my voice shakes as the tears don't slow.
an audible gasp escapes from chris's lips right before the door shuts.
-
two days ago i stormed through the door to my best friends house, sobbing as she comforted me.
i haven’t texted chris in those two days, but he’s been spamming my phone nonstop.
I sigh, sitting my head up off my best friend, amelia’s chest. “you okay?” she asks, pausing the movie which is playing on her macbook.
“did you not hear?” i ask, adjusting my sweater
“hear what..?” she asks, her eyebrowints furrowing in confusion
“you’re doorbell just rang, i’ll go get it okay?” i say, giving amelia a warm smile as i run downstairs.
i open the door, my heart sinks.
“chris?” i say, taking a nervous step back
his hand is clutched onto a stuffed animal, and a hand picked flower, which is dropping to the side slightly now. chris’s eyes are swollen, his nose red.
“i- uh.. um.” he stammers looking around
i stay silent, waiting for him to start,
he holds a hand out “can we go sit in my car i uh..” he says, his voice cracking
chris has always said his car is his comfort place, the area he feels safest, so i don’t shut him down yet.
i take his hand “amelia! i’ll be back in a few minutes” i yell as i close the front door behind me.
the walk down the driveway is silent, i can feel chris’s hand growing more sweaty by the second. he opens the door for me, the passenger seat has a blanket on it, with a packet of painkillers resting in the middle.
“what’s the pills for?” i ask, looking over my shoulder at chris.
“your shoulder..” he says, a guilty expression plastered across his face.
i nod understandably, sitting down in the car seat.
chris walks over to the driver side, climbing inside.
he lets out an audible swallow before opening his mouth to speak, nothing comes out.
“shit.. sorry ‘m really nervous..” chris says, holding onto a pepsi can.
“i’m so sorry, for even assuming the worst. i feel like an absolute goof for thinking your dad was another person..” he pauses for a second, quickly rubbing his under eyes
“and i was just hurt, i don’t even know why i thought mark was someone else, i should’ve never touched you i feel like shit about that too, and i’ve never seen you cry, so seeing what i had done to effect you just shattered my heart, i just don’t want to loose you and i.. i” he takes in a deep breath
“i love you.”
the rest of his words don’t get through to me, my heart is fluttering, i look over at him, chris’s cheeks are flushed red as his mouth moves quicker than his brain, i lean over the centre console, shutting him up with a kiss.
after a few seconds i pull away, “i love you too christopher.”
-
i run back inside, thanking amelia and telling her everything chris said, amelia is practically crying tears of joy as she hugs me, “go go! go back to his house i love you y/n!” she says, a smile spread ear to ear on her face.
i run back outside to chris, climbing inside his car.
the rest of the conversations go like this.
“are you sure your shoulders okay?”
“chris you barely touched me.”
“no but i made you cry y/n.”
“yeah, not because of the shoulder sweetheart.”
“well i told matt and nick what happened and then ordered a private doctor to come assess you..”
“chris.”
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ayeee hope y’all like!!
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dcxdpdabbles · 7 months
Note
Cave boy Danny just casually mentioning things that correspond with Bruce, like the time he stole an experimental power suit and shot a god corresponding with Bruce shooting Darkseid or the Infi-map being like the time Bruce was lost in the time stream, and the bats wondering how this kid can remain a civilian
Danny tried his best to not blink too quickly, as it may cause the stranger to shoot him. He honestly has no idea how he ended up here, but somehow, he was taken hostage alongside a bus full of people on his way to buy some chips.
He got tired of Alfred's instance to ban all junk food from the manor and had snuck out while the Wyanes had been busy going over plans for some big showdown with a guy named Scarecrow.
Danny doesn't know who that is and doesn't care to find out. The less he knows, the less likely he will have to deal with rouge. He's on vacation, dang it.
Or he was until the bus was taken over by a group of men wearing gas masks. They forced their way onto the bus when they stopped for some passengers, forcing the driver at gunpoint to drive them off course, and now they were heading to a wear house. People were crying, but Danny felt like screaming.
He just wanted spicy chips, and- maybe if he had the time- he would swing by the old junkyard to find a steering wheel for his ship! Fenton luck strikes again, it seemed.
"I wouldn't be so smug, Kane," One of the people in a gas mask shouts at him. He blinks up at the woman pointing her gun at his head but scoffs at her stance. His mother would throw a fit if Danny or Jazz ever placed their feet so off balance like that while wielding a weapon. "Once Dr.Crane is done with you-"
"I'm sorry did you just threaten me with myself?" Danny cuts her off. She pauses seemingly thrown before she sputters.
"No- not Kane, Crane."
He blinks at her. "You just said the same thing"
"C-R-A-N-E." She spells in a huff.
"Ohhhhh. Sorry, the mask makes it hard to understand you. Okay, so where were you? Dr. Crane is going to do what with me-?" Danny asks, leaning back in his seat, and waving his hand at her.
There is a moment of silence before she hits him across the face with her gun. "Don't you mock me!"
"Ow." He deadpans, rubbing at his cheek, and wonders if it was supposed to hurt. His healing had vanished the pain before her gun left his skin. "I thought we were having a conversation, but forgive me, I had no idea you had an inferiority complex and assumed everyone was mocking you. Let me guess, no one has ever told you they are proud of you, and now you are defensive of every action you take because-"
"Shut up!" His voice wobbles and Danny knows he hit the nail on the head.
"Does it keep you up at night? Does it freak you out that everyone can see your issues on your face as bright as day? I bet it does it. Bet it causes you to cry like a sad little confused kid who still can't figure out how to ask for help." He doesn't mock. He states it as fact because that is what it was. Fact. She does break down about it; he can tell by her reaction, and his tone makes it all the harder to swallow.
"I'll kill you!"
"Do it." He smiles. "Saves me from your boss. But will that keep you safe? Let's find out! How long will it be before he breaks you down? Ten, maybe fifteen minutes? And he will break you; you know he will. He's already halfway there."
"I-" She stumbles away from him. He doesn't have to see her face to know it's gone pale. Ha.
One of her crew hits her shoulder, having heard him speaking while the rest of the bus stares. "Stop letting him into your head!"
"Oh, what's your name?" Danny asks, blinking his large blue eyes at the man, watching his body language for clues. His eyes zero in on three belts and how they all match up at the buckle despite the fact that they are stacked on top of each other. Didn't Jazz once say that a belt with that much control hinted about attention to detail?
Hmm.
"Is the plan falling apart- can you not control it? The way life just moves on without you and that freaks you out doesn't it. The lake of control?" He asks, and the man jerks back. Bingo.
"Holy shit," A teenager whispers in the back horrified. "It's Dr. Crane jr."
"No, that's the Rabid Dog," Another answer. "Heard he made three elites cry after talking to him for more than ten minutes."
Danny is about to open his mouth when suddenly Robin crashes through the front window. Rude. There is glass everywhere now.
Hours later, Alfred franticly checks him over for injuries while the rest are freaking out. Apparently, they had feared to find Danny screaming from terrible visions but instead found him mentally breaking the hired goons with Jazz's training. "It's not like they did anything. I had a harder time stealing a super suit than those fruitloops-"
"You stole a what?" Tim cuts him off, eyes narrowed. Danny shrugs.
"I mean, haven't we all stolen a super suit?"
"Literally, no one here has done that," Steph tells him, and Danny tilts his head.
"You guys must have had boring childhoods. Surely you at least tried to organize your school into a battle-ready militia? No one can finish school without doing that at least once."
Dick raises a hand. "Brucie, how common is this in your world? Because that's alarming."
"All the kids at my school do that. My graduating class has done it three different times back in freshmen year." He shrugs. Cass makes a strange noise in the back of her throat.
"Not a lie. Brucie is strange," She tells the group, and everyone stares in bewilderment at the boy sitting on the medical table, even Bruce.
Danny smiles at them sweetly like he would at Vlad when the fruitloop is over, and he gets his parents to throw him out sooner than he wants to leave. It curves with just the right amount of innocence and mischievous nature that no one can tell if it's a positive or deadly expression.
"You are from a war-torn world?" Damian inquires, fingers under his chin with a frown. "How are you so carefree?"
"Oh no, we haven't had a war in about- eh fifty years? Give or take." He answers and once again Cass confirms the truth of his words.
This does nothing to settle their nerves.
"Every day I learn more about teenage Bruce, and every day I am more unsettled," Jason announces, and the rest of the Bats nod. Danny's smile turns broader and softer. It makes him more attractive but unsettling in a way.
Alfred sighs with a fond smile. "Oh, the memories. Master Bruce used to smile at his dates in the same way. I can picture him taking that sweet girl to the movies as if though it was yesterday."
"Bruce, how in the world did you get people to date you? That's creepy as hell. " Dick accuses the man who only shrugs.
"Oliver once told me it was part of the thrill. The idea that I could kill them."
"Why!?"
"I wish I knew chum."
Danny slips the control into his sleeve- he will rip it apart later for the Bluetooth piece. He will wait till the Waynes are too busy with Bruce's old stories about his first few dates to take apart the fear gas bomb he took from the woman earlier today. Could he use it as a fuel?
He'll have to do some tests.
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nyrandrea · 7 months
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Everything's Fine
As you try to deal with everything that has been thrown at you so early into your journey: forced leadership, mindflayer tadpoles and taking on everybody's personal problems, it all just gets a bit too much for you.
(Takes place during Act 1)
Word Count - 3.5k
Also available to read here on AO3!
Enjoy!
xxx
You felt your patience starting to wear incredibly thin when you realised Astarion had been staring at you for over five minutes now. 
Not directly, he would never be so conspicuous—at least, not intentionally— but you kept catching those fleeting glances he was throwing your way; the corners of his red eyes crinkling every so often before returning to whatever book he was pretending to read. It wasn’t one of those charming, smouldering gazes he would sometimes give you after a night of feeding, asking if you were alright, knowing full-well that your answer was a resounding ‘I’m fine’, and that you would provide for him again soon. 
No, what he was doing right now—very carefully—was scanning you, studying you,  judging you. It was as if he was trying to leer right through to your very soul. 
You almost had half a mind to stomp over to his tent and demand what his problem was, but there were other unfortunate issues to contend with. 
Namely Shadowheart and Lae'zel. 
“I already told you that the artefact is my responsibility,” Shadowheart said, her aloof demeanour and confident tone betrayed by the hand hovering over the hilt of her dagger. “This way it will protect us all, I thought we had already established that!” 
“We have established nothing,” Lae’zel hissed back. “We only agreed not to slit each other’s throats in the night, though...,” she grimaced. “I still have no reason to trust that you will not try again.” 
“At least there’s still some sense in that bullish head of yours.” 
“Tsk!” Lae’zel spat at Shadowheart’s feet, much to the latter’s disgust as she recoiled back. “However, the matter still stands that the relic you hold onto belongs to my people. Therefore, it should be in my possession!” 
The cleric sneered. “I would sooner slit my own throat.” 
“Then go right ahead. Nobody will stop you.” 
Rubbing at your temples to try and ease the incoming migraine that, for once, was not caused by the mindflayer parasite living rent-free in your head, you decided to step in-between the two women, not really caring about risking a gutting from their trigger-happy blades. 
“C’mon, we’re not seriously having this fight again?” You huff incredulously, the question already sounding stupid as soon as it left your mouth. Because of course they were having this fight again. They had it yesterday, and the day before that, and they were probably going to have it tomorrow as well. 
“We are, as it happens,” Shadowheart replied, her eyes flickering briefly to you before narrowing forward again. “Because this savage bitch won’t leave me alone!” 
Lae’zel bared her teeth in a cruel grin. “Better to be that than a revrykal of Shar.” 
At the mention of her Goddess’s name, Shadowheart practically lunged herself towards Lae’zel with an enraged scream, her dagger raised high with the intention of plunging it straight into the githyanki’s chest, who in turn raised her shield to protect herself. In that moment, you were nothing to them but a speck of dust in the wind. 
It wasn’t until your hand shot up in a blind panic when Shadowheart realised what she was doing, forcing her to suddenly pull back to avoid injuring you, only a moment too late as her knife slashed the palm of your hand. Blood sprayed across the ground as your short but pained cry echoed throughout the camp. 
“Oh Gods...” Shadowheart muttered as everyone was suddenly on their feet and crowded around the three of you in a matter of moments. “I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t... mean to...!” 
“What? Attempt to kill our leader in cold blood?” Lae’zel muttered as she took your trembling hand to examine it, you only stared ahead as the shock took a moment to wear off. You didn’t even register her uncharacteristically gentle touch as she turned your palm up. “Only a flesh wound, you will live.” 
“Still,” Astarion piped up from behind. “Perhaps it would be best to get that dressed up lest you attract any...*ahem* unsavoury visitors.” 
“It would seem we already have,” Lae’zel replied, to which the vampire put a hand up to his chest in mock offence. 
“Lae’zel, you depreciate me,” he pouted. “I’m hurt.” 
Astarion’s sudden cold grasp on your wrist startled you as he decided to examine the cut himself in a much less gentle manner than Lae’zel. “Not that I would be able to get much from this anyway, even if I tried.” 
You were slightly worried that he was pondering the idea the longer he stared at the wound; you could practically see him drooling. It wasn’t until you cleared your throat that he snapped out of his daze. 
“Well, we should probably get this cleaned up anyhow,” he finally said. “To avoid infection and whatnot.” 
“...You’re not gonna lick it clean, are you?” Karlach asked with a grimace. 
“Of course not!” Astarion bit back, much more flustered this time. “I’m not some savage beast, you know.” 
“That’s... debatable,” Gale piped in. 
“Well! It’s lovely to know that you all think so little of me; the feeling is very much mutual,” Astarion said with a fake smile before taking you by the shoulder. “Now, if you’ll all excuse me, I’ll have to nurse this poor wounded soul, as well as my pride.” 
He started guiding you away from the rest of the group, you only allowed him to because the whole situation had you in a bit of a daze, but not before Shadowheart tried to get in another “I’m... I’m sorry.” 
“It’s... I’m fine,” you replied with whatever level of composure you could muster up with a smile in a small attempt to reassure her before allowing yourself to be led towards Astarion’s tent. Your words seemed to satisfy her as Shadowheart returned a sorrowful but grateful nod, though her expression turned sour when Karlach stepped between her and Lae’zel. 
“Alright now, ladies, what do you two say we let out our pent-up aggression towards each other in a healthier and less murder-y way, huh?” The tiefling suggested before holding up her finger to not let the other two get a word in edgewise. “And before you ask, I will not be taking no for an answer.” 
A small smile graced your lips at Karlach’s enthusiastic yet surprisingly pragmatic way of taking charge, and it seemed to be working as Shadowheart and—to your utter astonishment—Lae’zel agreed to whatever training regimen she had in store for them.  
‘Perhaps Karlach should take over as leader...’  
The idea was extinguished as soon as it had entered your mind, replaced with thoughts of the tiefling messing everything up, of her killing you in your sleep, that you shouldn’t trust her to lead your party. The only one who should have any authority over these subordinates is you. Only you are worthy. 
The voice quieted down after a few moments, leaving you only with a pounding head—just another one of the many wonderful side-effects of the parasite. 
You didn’t take any heed of whatever thoughts the tadpole forced upon you. You knew that Karlach would never hurt you, or any of the others for that matter—not by choice, anyway. However, those flashes of betrayal and blood were starting to wear you down a bit, especially with the lack of sleep; the very notion of it had been non-existent since you escaped the nautiloid and accepted the leadership that everyone had practically forced upon you. 
You weren’t exactly a natural-born leader; hell, you barely managed to keep yourself alive never mind a whole group of people. 
“That’s going to need stitches,” Astarion said as he observed your hand more closely now that the two of you were in the privacy of his tent. Heat flushed around your cheeks at how close the two of you were. Flashes of that night you had shared a bed—or well, the forest floor—came to mind, and you hated how flustered it made you. It was a one-night stand, a bit of fun to ease the stress of adventuring; clearly it meant nothing. At least... that was what you were made to feel. 
What had been a night of passion for you, had been the same old dance for him. 
“Take a seat there,” Astarion’s said, his voice cutting through your thoughts like a knife. “I should have a needle around here, somewhere.” 
“You know how to sew?” You asked, settling down on a cushioned stool. 
“Don’t sound so surprised,” he said, and a sting of guilt surged in your chest. “How do you think I’ve kept these clothes looking so good for over two hundred years? Certainly not by magic.” 
“Why not just buy new clothes?” 
Your prodding seemed to hit a nerve as he paused for a moment. 
“Why waste the coin?” He finally replied, sounding a little dejected. 
“Sorry,” you said, biting your lip as you tried to think of a way to quickly rectify your carelessness. “You do look great, by the way—y-your clothes, I mean,” embarrassment takes over as you trip over your own words. “The gold embroidery is um *cough * it’s nice.” 
Astarion seems amused at your inability to grasp basic English as he chuckles, the sound deep and almost musical. “Why thank you, darling. I’m glad someone around here appreciates the finer details.” 
The vampire kneels next to you and threads the needle before gesturing for you to hold out your hand. “It has been a while so... let’s just hope I’m not too rusty, hm?” 
Those words don’t instil a great deal of confidence within you, but you won’t allow it to show, trusting in him to get the job done. If you ended up getting sepsis, well... Withers was always on stand-by. 
“Now, hold still,” Astarion instructed. “This may sting a little.” 
You nodded, only wincing a little when he made the first stitch, the pain became more bearable as you watched him focus with the kind of laser-like precision that only came with a practiced hand; it made you wonder how many times he had done this. His methodical movements almost lulled you into a sort of relaxed trance, had your mind have not been working overtime, you honestly might have fallen asleep: Gods know you could have done with a bit of shut eye. 
Ever since the ship crashed, your problems just seemed to keep piling on top of each other: Lae’zel was hellbent on getting to that githyanki creche, and there was the matter of Karlach’s engine, Gale was close to blowing to kingdom-come if he didn’t get another magical item to consume soon, Astarion would probably need another feeding at some point, not to mention the dog, Scratch, and the owlbear cub who had started hanging around the camp. A dog was one thing but how much did owlbears need to eat?  
It was fine, you reassured yourself. Everything would be fine. 
“There we go,” Astarion said, relinquishing your hand back, freshly stitched and cleaned. The pain was still there, dull and throbbing, but it wasn’t anything a quick healing spell couldn’t fix. 
“Not my best work but it will just have to do for now,” he huffs, as if he was annoyed with himself. “You’ll have to excuse the sloppy stitching, it’s... been a while.” 
“It’s beautiful work,” you can’t help but admire the stitching; it was flawless. “Thank you, Astarion.” 
His gaze remains on you for a moment, as if he were expecting some sort of quip or punchline, and his eyes widen slightly when he realises you’re being genuine. 
“I... uh... you...?” He pauses and squints; still nothing. “You are... most certainly welcome.” 
You raise an eyebrow; did he really think so lowly of you that he believed you simply weren’t capable of a simple 'thank you'? Or was it himself that he had no confidence in? Your thoughts turn to when you asked him about how he came about becoming a vampire. Astarion kept most of his history closed off from you but told you just enough to let you know that this ‘Cazador’ fellow had treated him poorly. Belittled him. Enslaved him. 
You couldn’t begin to imagine how horrible it must have been; no wonder he didn’t trust anyone. 
A part of you wanted to pry into his thoughts, to let him know that you were here for him should he ever want to talk, but a new figure entered the tent, startling you into closing your mouth. 
“Hello!” Gale cheerily greeted with a smile, his eyes latching onto you immediately. “How are we feeling?” 
“Oh, we’re feeling quite dandy, thank you,” Astarion interjected with a frown. “You didn’t think to knock before deciding just to barge in?” 
“Well, given the materialistic structure of this very sound establishment, I think you’ll find it’s a little difficult to uh...” Gale trailed off, attempting to rap the tent flap to no avail. “...knock on.” 
“Then why not just knock on the wooden beams with that...” The vampire waved lazily towards Gale’s staff. “Very large stick of yours.” 
“Duly noted, but I think we’re getting a bit off track here,” the wizard said before turning to you. “I need a word.” 
You were taken aback slightly by his bluntness, and you couldn’t help but notice the almost pained way he was wringing his hands and how his eyebrows subtly twitched. He looked incredibly... uncomfortable. 
His hand hovered over his chest briefly, just above the mark that glowed whenever he consumed magic. 
Shit. Was it that time already? But hadn’t you given him something only yesterday? Or had it been a few days now? With recent events, it was hard to keep track of the time anymore; day and night just meshed into one big messy blur. 
Judging by your panicked look, Gale held up his hands in a placating manner. “Now, I know you’ve had a lot on your plate recently but this little uh... situation of mine is growing quite dire again so... if you could just relinquish whatever magical artefact you have, then all will be fine and dandy.” 
“I... don’t have anything on me at the moment.” 
Gale’s expression dropped. “Come now, you must have picked up something along the way, surely?” 
You grimaced. 
“In a dungeon? Along the road? What about that little goblin camp you rampaged through recently?” 
His sudden passive-aggressiveness made you feel uneasy. 
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Astarion cut in, folding his arms. “But we were a bit preoccupied with fighting for our lives to be on the lookout for any magic boots for you to chew on.” 
Gale chuckled dryly and drew the vampire a dirty look. “I don’t think you quite understand the gravity of what might very well happen if I don’t find something to contain the beast within me very soon- “ 
“Don’t threaten me with a good time, darling.” 
“This isn’t a joking matter!” 
“Ugh! Just shut up!” You snapped. “I do get it, Gale. Because you remind me Every. Damn. Day. About this big, scary, mystery catastrophe that might happen without actually explaining anything about it! A bit of context would go a long way!” 
Gale’s hurt wince suddenly had your stomach churning in guilt; you shouldn’t be snapping at people; you were better than that. 
“I’m sorry,” you quickly apologised. “As soon as we’re out on the road again, I’ll make it our priority to look for an artefact for you, alright? You have my word.” 
Astarion scowled and Gale forced a smile; his lips too strained for it to be genuine. It seemed like you couldn’t please anyone today. 
“That’s all I can ask for, and I promise... all will be revealed soon, otherwise the tadpoles will be the least of our worries.” 
When Gale left, you plopped down to the ground and took ragged breaths to calm your nerves, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of hurt as you nestled your injured hand in your lap. Had Gale only checked in on you so he could ask you for a magic item in return? Was he really that desperate? He must have been, seeing as you had completely forgotten about his predicament. 
What kind of leader were you? 
“You know, you can’t go making promises all willy-nilly like that,” Astarion said. “We have enough problems as it is without having to worry about...” 
His chastising faded into white noise as you grasped your head, the sting of your fingers curling and tugging through unkempt hair was just enough to distract from the pounding that came from within your brain. The ability to focus was suddenly lost to you as your heart raced, and dark emotions swirled within your chest like a wild tornado; it was tempting to let them sweep you away, to ride the waves into the unknown. To be anywhere but here without anyone depending on you for so, so much.  
“Hello?” Astarion drawled. “Are you even listening to- Darling...?” 
He moved closer to you; his steps measured and deliberate as he lowered himself down next to you, still allowing you enough space while being close enough to reach out a hand to your trembling shoulder, his touch cold yet oddly comforting. 
“Hey,” he spoke in a soothing, soft tone, his crimson eyes locking onto yours with unwavering support. “I’m right here with you, you’re safe, just breathe along with me, alright?” 
You nodded, albeit shakily, and tried to mirror his calm, measured breaths, inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly, attempting to regain control over your racing heart. 
Astarion’s voice never wavered as your frantic gasps slowly started to synchronise with his calm breathing. “I know things are tough right now, but these feelings will soon pass. You’re stronger than you think, darling.” 
He continued to gently rub your back, tracing comforting circles with his fingertips, a rhythm that matched the cadence of your breath. Your hands slowly unlatched from your hair as you felt Astarion’s reassuring presence and honeyed words grounding you. 
“There we go, you’re regaining control,” he encouraged softly. “Now, I’m going to get you a glass of water, will you be alright for a moment?” 
You nodded again, and with a quick squeeze of your shoulder, he left. As your panic attack started to ebb, your breathing evened and your heart slowed as you felt yourself returning to the present moment, the tension that had your body rigid starting to ease. 
Astarion was back by your side within moments, gently pushing a glass into your hand and helping you lift it to your lips for a small sip of water, the cool liquid soothing your parched throat. 
“How do you feel?” 
“I’m-” 
“And don’t you dare say ‘I’m fine’,” he scowled. "Because we both know you’re clearly not.” 
You racked your brain to try and find a way to explain that you were okay and that this was just a small moment of weakness, a blip in the road, that there was nothing to worry about and you had it all figured out. 
But the words never came, instead you draw your knees up and hug them close to your chest as if to hide away from his piercing gaze. 
Astarion lingers by your side for a moment, his expression unreadable. 
“Would you like to stay in here for a while?” 
Unable to find the energy to speak, you simply nod. 
“Then come on, scooch over.” 
As you shuffle slightly to the side, Astarion sits down next to you, draping an arm over your shoulder and allowing you to settle your head into his side and cling to his shirt in a way that a child might cling to their mother. 
“...I’m sorry." 
From the corner of your eye, you could see Astarion’s expression soften as he waved a nonchalant hand. “Oh, you have nothing to be sorry for, dear. If anything, I should be the one apologising, who knew being in my mere presence would be so breathtaking?” 
You managed a small chuckle at that. 
“But in all seriousness,” he continued. “I know a thing or two about putting on a façade and... well...,” he paused. “Just... know that if you ever want to talk, I’m all pointy ears.” 
You hum in acknowledgement, though you can tell by his undertone that he’s being disingenuous, kindness wasn’t exactly his forte after all, but you appreciated the attempt all the same. But you were just content to sit in his arms for a while, and he seemed pleased enough with the silence. So, for now, you inhale the comforting aroma of bergamot, rosemary and brandy, letting yourself get lost in his comforting presence. 
And exhale. 
xxx
Hellooooo Baldur's Gate 3 has me in a chokehold and the brainrot is real. I'm only in Act 1 hence why this fic takes place so early in the game but this idea wouldn't leave me alone so here we are. Apologies for any inconsistencies :'3 Let me know what y'all think!
*Edit - since this has been pretty well received, I've opened up requests! Pop me an ask if you would like one :)
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sophia-zofia · 5 months
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Here’s a personal story about Palestinian child prisoners: - In 2012, I was arrested in Hebron while participating in a march to open Shuhada street, which was a main market street for Palestinians until the Israeli military shut it down, and made it for Israeli settlers only. It’s part of the area @JamaalBowmanNY visited. - Handcuffed and blinded by pepper spray, and thrown in the back of an Israeli humvee after my head was slammed against it, the soldiers drive off. They suddenly stop, run out, and all I hear is a child screaming and crying. - This child is then thrown on top of me, and is handcuffed. I ask him his age, he said 13. I asked him what happened, he says he was walking to his sister’s house and they just stopped and picked him up. He’s in panic mode crying “my sister cooked lunch for me, she’ll be terrified if I’m lost”. I tell him not to worry, we’ll make it out and give him the basic tips: You have a right to remain silent, don’t say anything without a lawyer…etc. - We get to the Israeli military outpost, we’re dragged out of the humvee. The kid’s terrified, telling them not to blind him (He thought I was blinded because of the pepper spray, I couldn’t open my eyes). - The smack the kid around and tell him to shut up. - We wait a bit, then kid is called in for interrogation. - The Israeli military interrogator literally tells him: I’ll let you go home, you just need to confirm the guy with you led the protest and told you to throw the stones at us. - Kid says I want to call my family/lawyer. Interrogator says ok: Picks up mobile and gives it to kid. Kid puts in his mother’s number. Soldier snatches mobile. The mother answers. Soldier says: Your son is going to go to jail and if he doesn’t talk I’ll come and arrest you too. Puts it on speaker, mother is panicking. Kid starts to panic. Soldier hangs up in her face. - Soldier tells kid: I can make your family’s life hell. But if you say what I told you to say, everything will be ok. - Kid starts sobbing and says: But I don’t know this guy I just met him in the humvee when you picked me up. Sitting outside the room, I yell: Kid, stay strong, say your truth and don’t fall into his lies.
- They come and take me away. Thirty minutes later kid comes out of interrogation shaken. He says the soldier told him he’d shoot his mother. The poor child told me not to worry though, he only said the truth 🥺. - The case brought against this poor kid was stone throwing, with two soldiers “testifying” they saw him throw a stone. - He spent 3 months in prison as court hearings kept getting delayed, eventually he was advised by his lawyer to “admit” to stone throwing because that way he’d spend less time in prison because the lawyer could be able to negotiate his release in 4 months, while waiting for a ruling from Israel’s military courts could take a year. - In short, working on this issue in Palestine for 12 years, I can tell you the majority of child arrests in Palestine follow this exact pattern: - Israel wants to teach a Palestinian community a lesson, deterring people from protesting its oppression. - It targets the kids, arresting dozens - up to 700 a year. - Majority of kids get abused and interrogated. - Lawyers and kids know it’s better to “confess” even if they didn’t do the crime, as waiting for a ruling and being in uncertainty/limbo is hell. That’s why you have a 95% conviction rate. - Then the Israeli government, when challenged for the systematic abuse, comes out and says: “These kids are terrorists - they attacked our soldiers and admitted to it.” - And because the lives of Palestinian children don’t matter, the world turns a blind eye again and again and again and again.
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lovingmattysposts · 3 months
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I hope it’s a girl.
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pairing: y/n and matt sturniolo
summary: you find out you're pregnant and you have no idea how to tell Matt.
warnings: a bit of smut? suggestive, mentions of throwing up/being sick, mentions of blood
Jesus. God, my stomach hurts. I groaned as I opened my eyes. I looked up seeing Matt’s sleepy face right above me, sound asleep with his eyes closed and his mouth open. I smiled up at my sleepy boyfriend.
I reached up before pausing feeling a horrible feeling come up my throat. I shot out of his arms and sprinted into the bathroom, pushing the door open and lunging for the toilet and puking directly into it.
I heard a shift from the other room, before footsteps came behind me. I groaned as I laid my head on the side of the toilet seat. I felt Matt’s arms come over my back.
“Baby are you okay?” He mumbled laying his head on my shoulder. “G-Get off me” I shook away from him. If there was anything I hated more than not feeling well, it was the presence of someone touching me knowing I was going to puke again.
He lifted immediately leaning back. I groaned as I lunged for the toilet again. He grabbed my hair pulling it out of my face as I threw up again. He reached over me before flushing the toilet.
I sighed as I leaned back.
“Sorry” I shook my head feeling tears start to weld in my eyes. “Baby, don’t cry. Don’t cry” He cooed next to me as I leaned against him. He wrapped his arms around me. “It’s okay, I know you don’t feel good. Did you get all of it out?” He mumbled kissing the top of my head.
“I just get like this sometimes when I’m about to start my period, I thought it was cramps but my PMS is—“ I shook my head as I cried. He hugged me tighter.
“You don’t have to explain, it’s okay” He whispered I nodded as I leaned against him. “Brush your teeth and come back to bed okay?” He whispered and I nodded.
He stood up leaving me there. “Do you need anything? Any medicine?” He asked looking down at me. I shook my head as I stood up.
He smiled and nodded. “Okay, I’ll be out here when you’re done” He breathed as he closed the door. I shook my head as I stood on my feet and walked over to the sink, placing my hands on either side looking myself in the mirror.
I looked awful.
I reached for my toothbrush before putting some toothpaste on it and pushing it into my mouth. I started brushing my teeth as the water ran, as the taste of the toothpaste started to make my mouth water again.
I pulled the toothbrush out of my mouth. Does toothpaste usually taste like this? Why is it all of the sudden disgusting?
I shook my head. It’s early, you’re out of it, you’re sick. You’re messing with your own mind. I shoved the toothbrush back into my mouth before starting to gag.
I pulled the toothbrush out before standing back over the toilet gagging. I closed my eyes as I contained myself from throwing up again. I looked back at the water running and my toothbrush lying there.
I blinked at it. The taste of mint never made me gag before. I took a deep breath before walking back over to the sink and rinsing my mouth out when water.
I turned the sink off before walking over to the toilet to pee. I knew I had started my period. I had the worst period known to women-kind. Nauseous, check the box. Moody, check the box. Heavy fucking flow—
I paused as I looked down.
No blood.
I shook my head as I finished and stood back up.
Shit when was the last time I had my period? I stared at the wall. A month ago? Maybe a few weeks? I paused as I thought.
Matt’s birthday.
Over two months ago. My face dropped as I leaned over the sink. Don’t freak out. Think. Think. Your period’s been late before. Not this late, my mind screamed. Periods are inconsistent, it’s part of it.
I can’t be—I can’t. I shook my head. I’m on the pill, he uses a condom. I looked up closing my eyes as I remembered one instance last month when we didn’t.
“Matt” I pulled him closer to me. He buried his face into my neck as he gripped my dress. “What?” He breathed in between leaving sloppy wet kisses against me.
“I need you now” I almost cried, he’d been working me up all night, teasing me almost to tears. The car ride here, the dancing, the small touches. I was in pain. I’ve about have enough before I pulled him into the bathroom of the party.
“Can’t wait till we get home?” He breathed parting his lips and pressing his forehead to mine gripping my hips pulling me against him, while I laid on the sink. I felt him press against me, and I moaned. I literally moaned, just from the feeling.
His eyes went wide.
We both had a few drinks at this point, but nothing was going to stop of me from him going inside me right here, right fucking now.
He reached down in between my legs pushing his fingers over me. “Baby, you’re dripping” He whispered against my ear. I whined as I pressed against his fingers harder.
“You want my hand?” He smirked against my face. I shook my head grabbing his shirt with my fist. “I need you inside me, now” I stated looking at him. He blinked at me. His fingers came out of me before I hung my head from the loss.
I don’t remember the last time I was this worked up. I think it was the first time we’d ever had sex. I was drunk, and I was in love. And I was fucking horny as shit.
He pressed his lips to mine from the answer. “Didn’t know the teasing would have you in tears, my love. Would have done this an hour ago” He chuckled against my lips.
“Matt, please” I whispered looking up at him. He stared at me before sighing and kissing my cheek. “I don’t have a condom” He mumbled. I swallowed and leaned and my head back, fuck.
“I don’t want a condom, I need you skin to skin” I whined making him lift his head and look at me. I just stared up at him.
“Are you sure?” He whispered. My jaw hardened. “You have 30 seconds to get inside me or you can watch me sit here and get myself off” I said blankly. Not a second passed before he ripped his belt off.
I placed my hand on my forehead as I remembered. Just couldn’t control ourselves? “Stupid fucking-“ I cursed biting my lip as my hand shook. I grabbed my birth control box out of the drawer as I looked at it.
91% effective stared back at me.
Don’t jump to conclusions. Take a deep breath.
I glanced down to the sink. We’d had a pregnancy scare before. It came in a box of two. There was still one left, under the sink. I took a deep breath before opening the drawer and searching for them life-deafening box.
I saw it and grabbed it, pulling out the last one. I broke it open with my teeth as I ran back over to the toilet and tried to focus.
Deep breaths. Focus. Don’t freak out. You’re not pregnant. You’re freaking yourself out. I flushed the toliet as I placed the test on the counter.
I paced back and forth in front of it.
Matt should be here. He should be in here with me. Like he was last time when it turned negative. I don’t want to freak him out though, not if I don’t have to. It’s better if I just look at the test, know it’s false and move on without getting him involved.
Y/n, you’re not pregnant.
I glanced down at the test. I picked it up as I brought it up to my eyes.
Pregnant
I just stared at it, my mouth parting. My heart dropping to my feet. I didn’t breathe.
“Y/n? Is everything okay?” I heard Matt’s voice on the other side of the door. I dropped the test to my feet, and my hand went up in my hair.
“Uh—yeah—Yeah Matt-everything’s good!” I said before shaking my head. My heart was racing. I thought I was gonna pass out. What am I saying? “I just- I just started my period!” I said shaking my head, closing my eyes.
“Oh” He said. “Do you need anything?” He asked. I swallowed. “Can you just go get me some tampons? I just ran out” I lied. “Yeah of course, just text me if you need anything else” He said. I walked over to the door, leaning my head against the door until I heard the bedroom door shut.
I took in a breath as I looked at the test on the ground. I picked it back up. Pregnant staring back at me. I shook my head as I threw the test at the sink.
“Fuck” I cried as tears pooled my eyes.
-
I took in a breath as I felt Matt’s arms come around me, his face pressing into my neck. “You smell good” He hummed into my neck.
It’s been almost a week and I haven’t told him. The guilt is eating me alive, but I didn’t know how. I didn’t know what his reaction would be. I was terrified.
Most nights I’ve been sleepless, my knees pulled to my chest as I watched him sleep peacefully. Not knowing I was growing a child inside me. That he was going to be a father in nine months.
Chills ran up my neck.
“You pregaming?” He chuckled releasing me and grabbing the cup out of my hands before taking a sip. “No Matt it’s—“ I said but he was already drinking it. His face scrunched before he spit it out in the sink.
“Fucking-gross” He groaned
“Tea” I chuckled. He looked up at me. “Why are you drinking tea? You hate tea” He shook his head looking at me. I swallowed.
If I was honest. Tea was the only thing I could keep down recently. I do hate tea, or did. Now it tasted like honey to me. I couldn’t get enough of it. I looked it up and it said it was normal to have werid cravings , even if it was something you previously hated.
“It’s supposed to to help shrink your stomach” I came up with the first thing that came to mind. He shook his head, picking up the cup and pouring it out.
“Matt” I yelled grabbing the cup from him. “You don’t need to shrink your stomach babe” He chuckled. I shook my head. “You didn’t have to pour it out asshole” I said as I grabbed the tea pot off the stove and poured some more.
“Hey I’m sorry it was a joke, I didn’t mean to make you upset. You look beautiful in that dress” he said wrapping his arms around me.
I swallowed back the tears threatening to spill as I placed down the pot. God, who knew these pregnancy hormones were so brutal.
“Here I’ll make it to-go, we’re gonna be late” He said taking the cup out of my hands and walking over to the cabinets, pouring my tea into a cup with a lid.
I took a breath as I watched him.
He walked over pecking the top of my head and handing me the drink. “Are you ready?” He asked looking down at me. “Okay” he smiled looking down at me. “I love you” He whispered. I smiled.
“I love you” I said back and he leaned down kissing me. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom, then we’ll go” He said as he walked back into our room.
I sighed as I leaned over the counter.
I had to tell him soon. I had to. It was eating me alive. But I was scared. No I was petrified. My brain automatically thinks the worse. What if he doesn’t want it? What if he breaks up with me? We’re 20. Having a kid? We’ve barely spoken about marriage, let alone a family together.
I knew I wanted to marry him, but I didn’t know for sure if he wanted to marry me. Would we get married? Would it be after or before the baby comes? Oh god a baby?
I leaned up shaking out my hands, I’m gonna break out in hives.
“Ready?” I heard his voice. I looked up and forced a smile as he looked down at me. He nodded as he placed a hand on my back and directed me towards the garage.
-
“You’re quiet”
I glanced over at Matt who’s eyes we’re fixated on the road, his hands slightly shook against the wheel. “Sorry” I mumbled. He sighed. “Don’t apologize” He said looking over at me. “Is everything okay?” He whispered. I swallowed as I looked down at my stomach subconsciously.
“Yeah, I just—This period’s kicking my ass—“ I mumbled looking out of the window feeling my eyes water again. He reached over rubbing my knee.
“We didn’t have to go tonight y/n” He sighed. I shook my head containing myself. “No, I wanted to go. I wanted to see everyone” I said placing my hand over his, grabbing his fingers.
He smiled and nodded.
“Okay” He smiled. I blinked at him. “If you want to drink tonight, you can. I’m not going to” I said. He looked over at me. “You’re not?” He questioned. I shook my head.
“I can drive home” I said. He smiled and looked forward. “If my girls not drinking, I’m not drinking either” He said making me roll my eyes. “So cheesy Matthew” I chuckled. He sighed pulling my leg.
“I love you” He whispered looking at me. I nodded. “I love you too” I said with my full chest. He smiled and looked off to the road.
-
“Y/n! Matt!” Chris cheered as we walked through the doors. I forced a smile as Chris hugged me. “You look beautiful ma” he smiled. I pulled back looking at him. “What?” My heart dropped. He furrowed his eyebrows.
“What?” He chuckled. “What did you say?” I asked blinking at him. “I said you looked beautiful” He shook his head. I took in a breath. Stop reading into everything. He’s not calling you a mother Y/n. He says ma all the time.
“Right, thanks” I shook my head. He shook his head smiling. Matt’s hand came down my back. I looked up at him as he furrowed his eyebrows down at me. His eyes screaming “why are you acting like this?”
I swallowed as I moved away from him moving over to Chole, Chris’s girlfriend. “Y/n! That dress!” She gushed hugging me. I hugged her small frame. Sometimes I was overly jealous of Chole. She was so small, petite.
If I wasn’t jealous of her before, I was definitely was going to be, holding a watermelon in my stomach a few months from now. A watermelon that I couldn’t even man up and tell my boyfriend about. The father.
I looked over at Matt as he smiled and spoke to Chris. God, he has no idea his entire life is about to change.
“You look stunning!” She grabbed my arms pulling me back to her. I smiled and looked at her. “You look stunning” I breathed looking down at her.
I felt arms come around me and I looked up seeing Matt smiling down at me. Chris walked over putting his arm around Chloe.
“You do look stunning” Matt mumbled looking down at me. I smiled up at him.
“Matt! Can I steal your girlfriend for a second!” Chloe said pulling me out of Matt’s grip and away. I looked up at Matt who raised his eyebrows and then flattened his lips and shook his head as we walked off.
Chloe pulled me into the kitchen.
“God, I’ve had such a hard week” She breathed as she grabbed a bottle of vodka. I just nodded and looked at her. “Not harder than mine” I mumbled under my breath.
“Huh?” She asked turning to me. I shook my head. I looked up at her. “Oh! Uh I said me too” I said nodding. She smiled as she pulled out two glasses.
“Thank God, I need someone to drink with. Chris has been such a stickler these days, but I like when he’s sober and I’m drunk. He takes care of me like I’m a child. It’s relaxing” she sighed.
A child.
I swallowed.
“You okay? You look flustered” She chuckled. I shook my head as I watched her unscrew the top and pour vodka into a cup.
“Fine” I nodded. She started to pour mine. “Oh- uh-“ I said holding out my hand. She paused and looked up at me. “Too much?” She asked looking up at me. I shook my head, trying not to panic.
“Good” She smiled as she danced across the kitchen to the fridge pulling out some lemonade. I just watched her. She glanced over at me.
“Why are you being quiet?” She paused looking at me. I shrugged. “I’m not” I lied looking at her. She chuckled as she unscrewed the top. “You are” She nodded as she poured lemonade into the cups.
“You and Matt fighting?” She asked setting down the lemonade. I shook my head. “He’s not doing the dishes?” She asked. I shook my head.
“The sex not good?” She asked picking up the glasses. My eyes went wide as I looked over at Matt who was talking to Chris and Nick across the room.
“Chloe” I said through clenched the teeth, as red crossed my cheeks. She smiled as she handed me the glass. She sighed. “Okay spill what’s bad about it?” She asked bringing her cup up to her lips.
“Nothings bad” I said shaking my head chuckling. She narrowed her eyes. “Is he still doing the same old missionary? I told Chris to tell him to spice it up” She said shaking his head.
“Chloe!” I said shaking my head looking over at Matt again. She shrugged. “What? Sometimes it gets boring. I got about three months in with Chris and I was like look dude—“ She started to go on.
“Chloe stop! Please I don’t wanna know about you and Chris’s sex life” I cringed shaking my head. She laughed. “It’s not our sex life” I said shaking my head. She raised her eyebrows. “So he doesn’t do just missionary?” She smiled bringing the glass up to her face.
I glared at her smiling.
“I like missionary” I said. She rolled her eyes. “Everyone thinks they like vanilla” She said shaking her head. “Until they try Rocky road” She winked. I almost threw up in my mouth. No literally. I’ve been sick 24/7. The smell of vodka was just making it worse.
“Mr. Rocky road himself” She smiled as Chris walked up to us, Matt trailing behind him. I looked up as Chris and Chloe kissed. Matt looked down at me.
“I thought you said you weren’t drinking” He stated looking down at the glass in my hands. I looked down at the glass and back up at him.
“I’m not—“ I said looking up at Chloe who was still kissing Chris. He glanced over at Chloe and Chris and pulled me away.
“Chloe made it for me, I didnt know how to say no” I swallowed. He smiled and shook his head. “Not many people know how to say no to that women” He said taking the glass out of my hands and setting it on a table.
I blinked up at him.
“What do you mean?” I said. He shrugged. “She’s a big personality, she’s convincing that’s all” He shook his head. I furrowed my eyebrows as I looked at him.
“And I’m not?” I asked crossing my arms. He furrowed his eyebrows and shook his head. “Babe what?” He chuckled. I looked at the ground.
“You don’t think I’m convincing?” I asked harshly. He blinked down at me, studying my face. “What are you talking about?” He breathed shaking his head. I felt tears brim my eyes.
“Y/n, what’s the matter with you tonight?” He whispered looking down at me. I shook him off me. “Nothing” I said turning away from him.
I’m surely giving him whiplash from my mood swings. I’m never like this, I just couldn’t control myself.
-
The whole night I’ve been avoiding Matt. Mostly because I loved him and I was a raging pregnant women who was hiding the biggest secret of mankind and was pouring out emotions faster than Chloe was pouring drinks.
“Then I was like—“ Chloe laughed but paused as she looked up at me. “You don’t like my story?” She frowned. I rolled my eyes. “No please tell me more about how exactly you managed to steal the road sign” I shook my head.
She stood up straighter. “Hey, you can be a bitch to Matt but not me” She snapped. I sighed looking down. “You’re the sweet one out of the two of us, don’t ruin it please. I can’t be the nice one” She shook her head, making me smile slightly.
“Tell me what’s going on” She said softly leaning into me. I swallowed. “It’s vanilla isn’t it?” She whispered. I rolled my eyes. “Matt fucks me fine Chloe” I said looking down at her. She narrowed her eyes at me.
“You’re sure?” She hummed.
“Would you like me to go in description on the night he got me pregnant?” I snapped. The words leaving my mouth so easily, I wasn’t thinking.
I froze.
She froze.
We were the only ones in the kitchen thank god.
“You—what?” Her eyes widened. My mouth parted as she looked at me. I shook my head. “Chloe—“ I whispered. “You’re pregnant?” She asked softly. I swallowed as I felt tears come to my eyes.
“Please don’t tell anyone” I whispered. Her arms came around me, pulling me to her. “Y/n, oh my god” She breathed, in shock. I tried to contain my heartbeat as she held me.
She pulled back.
“Y/n, that’s amazing” she shook her head smiling. I just blinked at her. “Y/n, you created a life. You—Matt, you’re gonna be great parents. This is the most amazing thing you’re ever gonna do in your life. You’re gonna be a mom.” She shook her head her face lighting up.
“Matt doesn’t know” I mumbled. Her smile dropped and her hands on me dropped. “What?” She said blankly staring at me. I took in a breath trying to to cry.
“He’s doesn’t know?” She asked loudly. “Lower your voice” I said quickly. She shook her head. “How-How—Why doesn’t he know? Y/n are you crazy?” She said with wide eyes.
“I-I don’t know Chloe I’m scared—“
“How long have you known?” She asked shaking her head. “A week” I swallowed. Her mouth dropped. “A week?” She gasped. “Chloe” I said placing my hand against my face.
“Sorry—I just..a week?” She asked shaking her head. “Y/n, you need to tell him” She said looking at me. “I can’t” my voice broke. She just stared at me.
“You have to”
“Chloe I don’t know how!” I yelled back. She closed her eyes and took in a breath. I heard footsteps making me turn and look to see Chris and Matt walking into the room.
I swallowed.
“I’m ready to go” Matt said looking down at me. I looked down at Chloe who just looked at me. “Are you ready?” He asked pressing his lips to the top of my head. I nodded looking up at him.
Matt walked in front of me and I followed him. I turned around and Chloe mouthed ‘tell him’ to me as I followed him out.
-
The silence was horrible. Horrible. I looked over at him as he watched the road. I swallowed looking down at my lap.
“You ignored me the whole night” his voice rang through my head. I looked up at him, he didn’t look down at me. I sighed and leaned back, looking out the window.
“I’m sorry” I whispered. “I don’t want you to be sorry, I want you to tell me what’s going on” He said making me close my eyes. I swallowed.
I can tell him. I can tell him. Y/n just do it.
“There’s nothing I’m just—“ I shook my head. I shrugged. “I don’t know” I sighed. He took in a breath as he gripped the wheel of his car harder.
We rode the rest of the way to the house in silence. Once we got into the driveway, I looked over at him. He looked back at me.
“Are we okay?” He whispered looking at me. I felt my eyes water. “Yes, my love. We’re okay, we’re always going to be okay” I whispered leaning over to him. He reached up wiping the tears under my eyes.
“Just tell me” He whispered looking at me. I froze. “Whatever it is, just say it” He sighed. I leaned back as he looked at me. “I told you there’s nothing Matt. Just in my head” I whispered.
“About what?” He sighed. I took in a breath as I pushed the door open and walked up to the front door. I heard him walking in behind me as I set down my bag and took off my shoes.
“Y/n” he stated. I didn’t say anything as I started walking to the room. I just needed to lay down. Think about how I was gonna tell him. Then I could just say it. This was all just too much. I didn’t have the guts—
“I really hope it’s a girl”
I froze, facing away from him. My whole body stiffened. I turned slowly to meet his eyes. He looked back at me smiling softly.
My breath caught in my throat as my eyes started to water. “How did you—“ I started to say. “I saw the test in the bathroom before we left” He said looking at me as he walked towards me.
Guilt filled my chest. I looked down as I felt his arms come around me, pulling him into me. “Why didn’t you tell me baby?” He whispered softly placing his lips on the top of my head.
“Matt I’m so sorry, I was so scared” I shook against him. He sighed and rubbed circles into my back. “Why are you scared my love?” He whispered. I pulled back and wiped my face.
“Matt we’re 20–we’re young we’ve only been together a year and a half. Us having a baby?—“
“Almost two years” he corrected. I looked up at him and he smiled shaking his head. “Baby, listen to yourself. Us having a baby?” He smiled. He placed his hand on my lower stomach.
“A part of me is growing inside of you” He gushed. “I know we’re young baby, I know.” He shook his head. I swallowed looking up at him.
“And it obviously wasn’t planned” He chuckled. I whined and hung my head. “Hey” he lifted my chin, I just looked at him.
“I love you, I’m so excited to start this with you. I wanna marry you, obviously that comes with kids. I guess we missed a few steps but I don’t care. I just care that’s it’s with you” He smiled. I smiled.
“Really?” I whispered. He nodded leaning down. “I just wish you told me” He mumbled pushing hair out of my face. I shook my head as I wrapped my arms around his neck pressing my lips to his.
He pulled back smiling. “What are we gonna tell our parents?” He whispered. My eyes went wide as I released him. “Fuck-I-I don’t know I was so stressed about telling you, oh god—Mary Lou she’s gonna hate me!” I said shaking.
He smiled and shook his head, grabbing my arms. “I’m more worried about your dad finding and killing me more than I am about Mary Lou” He chuckled. I rolled my eyes.
“I think I stopped breathing when I saw that test. I was shaking so much, I didn’t think I could hold as long as I did. I don’t know how you didn’t notice” He said shaking his head.
I let out a breath. “I was more concerned about how I was gonna tell you” I said looking up at him. He nodded.
“Now—“ he smiled. “I’ve created a list of names on my phone—boy or girl—“ He started carrying on. My eyes went wide. “Matt, you’ve known for like 3 hours” I smiled. He blushed. “Sorry I got excited” He said shaking his head.
“You’re ridiculous” I bit back a smile.
“And you’re pregnant” he pointed at my chest. I shook my head as I looked down. “Oh my god, I’m fucking pregnant” I whispered shaking my head.
I felt his arms pick me up and spin me around.
“You’re pregnant!” He yelled as he held me up, making me laugh. He placed me back on my feet and pressed his lips to mine.
“I’m so fucking excited” He smiled against my lips. I let out a breath of relief as I laid against him. “I love you” I mumbled. “I love you even more” he whispered.
“Can I start calling you mamas?” He chucked above me.
“Don’t push your luck” I said squeezing him tighter. He held me tighter. “God, I love you” He whispered.
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fleur-bbyy · 1 year
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I WANNA FEEL YOU FROM THE INSIDE
playlist
⭒pairing: katsuki bakugo x fem! reader.
⭒wc: 4.8k
⭒warnings: SEX (MINORS DNI), continuation of the porn!au, characters are aged up to 21+, reader is not of a certain skin color, use of names like ‘bunny,’ daddy kink, spanking with belt, live camming, mentions of; onlyfans, pegging, plugs, fingering (f! receiving), cunnilingus, slight breath play, small part of m! receiving oral, degrading, if I forgot anything I will update this later on!
⭒author’s note: y’all the amount of times I had to change the fake usernames to not accidentally tag someone is crazy. will scream, cry, and throw up if I still somehow managed to.
part one.
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“you still wanna go through with it?”
“fuck yeah. show that fucker what he’s missing with us.”
it’d been a few months since you and katsuki had professionally filmed together for the first time. watching the opportunity for a decent cash flow get even bigger after more and more sick bastards wanted to see the two of you together. becoming a little more than professional acquaintances as you filmed together more and more.
it felt like the two of you could only keep growing until that douchebag that calls himself a director publicly shit on both of your names. calling the two of you ‘unprofessional’ and a slew of other names, even going as far to say he could’ve ‘done it without the both of you’ whilst he basked in the glory of his first successful porno. your ranks and ratings didn’t drop that much, but it was enough to piss the two of you off.
so now here the pair of you are, about to prove to that dickhead director that you didn’t need him, he needed you.
“it’s just been a while since i’ve cammed live. I feel like i’m back at the beginning again.”
“i bet. we’ve all come a long way though.” he stood up from where he was sat at the laptop perched upon your desk, angled towards the chaise lounge in your room. everything was set and ready with a timer counting down from five minutes. for some reason you were nervous about camming again.
maybe it was the fact that you hadn’t done so in so long.
or maybe it was that you didn’t know what the hulking blond standing over you had in store.
“we still have four and a half minutes left,” he rough hand stroked your soft cheek, “wanna let me get a little taste before you start, bunny?” his free hand cupped your cunt covered with white lace.
“nuh-uh. don’t spoil yourself now or you’ll have nothing left in you in a few.” you pushed him off and walked over to where the laptop was set up to check the countdown once more. making sure to shimmy your hips as you walked to show off your cute ass to him.
he already felt quite feral just looking at you. body clad in skimpy, white lingerie with cute little bunny ears on your head and a cotton tail attached the the back of your thong. the thigh-high socks squeezed the fat of your thighs so perfectly his cock was already straining against his jeans.
“have it your way, princess, but remember who’s in charge today. no shitty scripts to follow, I can do whatever the fuck I want.” you didn’t know whether you should feel more aroused or terrified at the thought. you’ve seen his videos from when he was amateur. unscripted, he was ruthless. fucking whoever was with him in the most insane, body-contorting positions, having them drool all over themselves. you weren’t ashamed to admit that you had touched yourself many times before to the sound of the filth that he spoke into the mic.
“it’s almost time, bunny. c’mere and sit with me.” he beckoned you over to the lounge with a wiggle of his index finger. he was shirtless with his chest lightly oiled. you eyed the way his pecs and stomach glistened under the light every time he shifted. he switched out his jeans and boxers to just a pair of grey sweats with nothing underneath. you loved the way his trail of wispy, blond hairs started just below his naval and disappeared below the waistband.
he had you sitting with your back to his chest. he held you tightly, already copping a feel on your chest. kneading and pinching the fat of your breasts. he had your legs placed over his spread ones, making you completely open for the camera. your little thong barely covered a thing and was getting eaten by your lips. he used his other hand to slide down your body and gently rub your clit over the cloth.
you almost forgot what you were about to be doing until you heard the familiar pinging sound from money being sent in. this little cam show was pretty well advertised on both of your socials and even by some of your friends in the industry, so it was really not surprise that people were already sending tips in. you soon heard bakugo pipe up. his voice moderately loud so the microphone could pick it up.
“awh, bunny, hear all those horny bastards that already are spendin’ shit on you? we’ve barely done anything yet” you quickly nodded your head, wiggling your hips to try and get his hand to move faster.
“where are your fuckin’ manners?” he took the hand that was kneading your tits and brought it up to your neck, fastening his thick fingers around and lightly squeezing. you let out a small ‘thank you’ which you thought wouldn’t be enough. thankfully, bakugo had mercy right now.
he kept toying with your cunt, continuously growing wetter and wetter. your arousal now seeping through your thong and spreading onto your plush thighs. also dripping down onto bakugo, leaving a wet patch on his pants.
“already makin’ such a mess. you want it bad, don’t you?” he lightly slapped your already sensitive clit, sending jolts of electricity down your spine and do your core.
“yes. so bad.” you felt like a virgin that couldn’t make a complete sentence and your cheeks started to burn. it was kind of hard to feel embarrassed when you’re in your industry, but the way he toyed with you flipped a switch inside.
“yes what?” he stopped touching you and roughly pinched your nipples, eliciting and piercing whine from you.
“yes daddy.” his cock twitched beneath you at the sound of your voice.
“good fuckin’ girl. why don’t you turn around and show them the pretty little ass of yours?” he unhooked your legs from his and brought them together so you could stand. you slowly got up, making sure to not lose your footing since your legs already felt like jelly. you heard the pinging start up again when you turned around and bent over slightly, wiggling your hips back and forth causing your ass to shake.
“come sit back down on me. daddy’s gonna play with you too, yeah?” you straddled his still-spread legs and his hands instantly found place on the fat of your ass. kneading, pulling, and squeezing every inch. you could feel his hard-on pressing right against your clit and you dared to start grinding down on him. because of that action, you were met with a harsh slap to your ass.
“who the fuck said you could grind on me? needy fuckin’ slut.” he roughly slapped your ass again and tips started to roll in at the sight of the bright red hand prints now adorning your backside.
“oh fuck, think these bastards are gettin’ off to the sight of you gettin’ punished, huh? who wants to see some more?” he was wearing the charming smirk on his face as he soothed the burning, red spots with his hands. rubbing circles on you and tilting his head to kiss and nip at your neck. the pinging sound that rolled in again signified that people did want to see more.
“alright, little bunny, all fours f’me.” you rolled off of him as he stood up, the obvious tent in his pants making your mouth water. he sauntered his way behind the lounge as you got in position. you could see out of the corner of your eye that he had picked up the belt he was wearing half an hour ago, striking the sides of the belt together to make a loud slapping sound as he approached you once more.
you felt his hands run over the spot where your lower back curved as the fabric of the lounge dipped down behind you. he caressed your smooth skin for a few moments more before he spoke up again.
“you’re gonna take ten of these yeah?” he leaned down and gripped the sides of your chin, turning your head to look towards him and the camera. “and you’re gonna count, lose your place and we start over. don’t fuck up and you get a reward. got that?” you furiously nodded your head and he cocked a warning brow at you. he let go of the death grip he had on your chin and lightly patted your cheek two or three times. you heard the leather of his belt slap against itself one more time before it was striking you.
your legs and cunt were both quivering as he delivered each blow to your sensitive skin. every strike was met with more pinging sounds as money was sent you way. your ass was covered in red spots and sore to the touch. he wasn’t entirely a monster, though, rubbing each area he hit with the palm of his hand after you struck you. despite the challenge, you didn’t lose your place and even thanked him afterwards. after the tenth was delivered, he pressed his soft lips to the spots most red and placed feather like kisses on you.
“so good f’me. so fuckin’ good f’me. daddy’ll give you what you want.” and with that he pushed your panties to the side and plunged two of his thick fingers in your wet heat. rapid fire fingering your aching pussy as he used his free hand to continue soothing the hot spots left on your ass from his belt.
the sight of your cute tears leaving mascara tracks down your pretty face in the screen of the laptop was enough to make him want to bust in his pants. the moans and whimpers that left your parted lips sounded so sweet, delicious even. and the feeling of your slick running down his middle and index finger was enough to make him lean down to lick your juices from the source as he replaced his fingers with his long tongue. his fingers found purchase again on your swollen clit, aching to be touched and he tongue-fucked you.
his movements were skillful. rubbing circles on your clit in a way the stimulated your nerves in just the right way. he worked his tongue oh so perfectly inside you, causing you to writhe under he touch. his free hand fisting at the fat of your ass.
he could tell that you were getting close by your moans increasing in volume and the way your pussy fluttered and clenched around his tongue. the pinging sound had slowed, pissing him off a bit.
“you wanna see this slut cum? pay the fuck up. we’re not doin’ this shit for free.” you whined when he pulled away from you, getting whatever the female equivalent of blue balls was. you dropped your top half down to the lounge, just leaving your ass in the air. you wiggled it a bit for the camera and for the blond staring at you through the laptop screen.
“shit, 15,000¥? these motherfuckers really are desperate. 20,000¥ and i’ll make this slutty bunny squirt.” he lightly ghosted his fingers over your pussy before deciding he wanted your panties that were still pushed to the side off. the strength of the explosive blond before you made you gush another bout of wetness as he tore them at the hips and pulled them off. even though you were desperate, you quietly whines at the loss. you really liked this lingerie set.
“oi, heard that shit. quit your bratty bitchin’ or you won’t cum until I do.” at that, he looked to the laptop and saw that someone had sent in the amount he requested and smirked.
“make sure to say ‘thank you.’” he dived back in your pussy, one hand on your clit, two fingers back in your cunt, and using his tongue to drink up any of your dripping slick. it wasn’t long before you felt that familiar pressure in your stomach and your hole started to twitch. shit, you were right there.
“oh fuck, oh fuck, fuckfuckfuck thank you.. fuck.” your speech was slurred and words were jumbled together as he finger-fucked you through your orgasm. he growled at the way your cunt gushed for him and all over him, drinking up as much as he could.
“shit, that’s my good fuckin’ girl. stand up f’me and show them your drenched pussy.” you did as he said, already feeling so fucked out to disobey. he held you by your hips as you stood, steadying your balance. using one of his big hands to spread your cheeks apart to show off your fucked hole, groaning at your reflection in the camera.
“d’you bastards miss when she was a cam slut? because i sure fuckin’ do.” he rubbed the side of your hip and ass as he pressed little kisses to your skin. it wasn’t long before the chat was beginning him to take his dick out and for you to take your bra off.
“awww. they want you to get naked too.” you teased, ruffling his blond hair.
“‘m sure they just want my cock out because that means i’m closer to destroying your insides.” he teased right back at you, softly smacking your backside.
you felt gracious about him giving you a little breather. you loved your work, loved making people feel good, but you hated how everything was go, go, go once the camera started rolling. sometimes having to just stay in bed the next day so the poor spot between your legs could take a break. when you felt ready, you tapped his shoulder and gave him a quick nod when he looked up.
you straddled his lap once more and pawed at his cock through the fabric of his sweatpants. you just wanted him to stuff you full and you were willing to act out to get it.
“needy little whore arentcha? not fuckin’ you yet. on your knees.” he patted your face once more and got up with you to get you closer to the camera. only his lower half was in view, but your face and still-covered chest was on full display. you were visibly excited when he tugged his sweatpants down enough to free his rock hard dick. taking it into his hand and pumping it a few times before slapping your cheek with it.
“be a good bunny and open wide f’me.” as soon as you did so, he was shoving his cock in your mouth. fucking your face for true audience you’d garnered. you thought all you’d be getting was a rough face-fucking until he pushed his length all the way in. the tip of your nose was touching his groomed, blond hairs that grew from his pelvis. tears once again started to stream down your cheeks as you struggled to breathe through your nose.
“you want this bitch to breathe? 5,000¥. simple enough? ‘m lowballin’ because the slut seems desperate already.” he punctuated his last few syllables by lightly thrusting back and forth in your mouth. it still wasn’t enough for you to get a deep breath, but enough for you to not pass out.
as he looked at the screen, a specific ping of a donation caught his attention.
105,000¥ - fuck her now.
he pulled out and leaned down to where his face was in view. he gave you a moment to sputter and catch your breath before he was gripping you by the jaw to look at the camera.
“see how much they wanna pay for that sloppy cunt? whad’dya think?”
“mmmm, 20,000¥ more. my pussy’s worth it.”
“you fuckin’ heard her, pay up, bastards. or i’ll just fuck her off camera.” he finished his last word with another slap to your ass. his rough hand still had you by the jaw as he showed off your messy face. makeup smeared and mascara stains running down your hot cheeks. you smiled into the camera when you saw the notification come up that someone had sent the remaining amount of money.
“thank you, baby. bet you wish it was you here and not him. you’d treat me nice, right?” bakugo’s gaze bore into the side of your head as he listened to you flirt with whoever threw money your way. anything word you spoke that sounded remotely suggestive was like a buzzword for more tips to roll in. “mmm you want him to take my bra off? you’d better ask him nicely.”
he fixated his gaze off of you and onto the comments rolling in in the monitor. another 10,000¥ rolling in with the nice request that he strip you some more.
“you bastards are so fuckin’ desperate. bet you’re all touchin’ yourselves right now. waiting for her tits to be out before you bust.” he was standing behind you, unhooking the clasps on your bra and letting it drop to the floor. you were fully exposed for the camera now. the only thing remaining from your costume lingerie were your sheer thigh-highs and the bunny ears atop your head.
he reached around you tweak your hard nipples and play with the fat of your breasts, eliciting little moans from you.
“so fuckin’ pretty. she’s a pretty, pretty girl isn’t she?” his hand traveled down to your pussy and he ran a finger through the slit to assess if he needed to prep you or not. you were practically still dripping from earlier, slick running out of your needy cunt and spreading onto the insides of your thighs.
“time to make their money’s worth, bunny. ride my fuckin’ cock.” he sat back down onto the chaise lounge and beckoned you over with the curl of his index finger. the sight of him comfortably sprawled out with his sweatpants just lazily pulled down enough for his cock to be out made the ache between your legs throb even more.
“d’ya bitches wanna see her ass or tits bounce?” he kept you from sitting, rubbing up and down the side of your hips as his eyes focused in on the chat. responses were mixed with people who wanted to see either. a few comments sprinkled in about yours or his looks.
“looks like they can’t decide, we’ll do both.” he pulled you towards him and you straddled his lap in regular cowgirl. he rubbed the tip of his angry, red cock up and down your soaked slit. the look in his eyes was enough to make you gush another wave of arousal as he slowly eased in you. the stretch of him was welcomed by your warm walls and he bottomed out rather quickly from how horny you were. his tip lightly brushed your cervix, marking you squirm above him. he grabbed your hips and you kept an agonizingly slow pace.
“if you want him to split me open, i’m gonna need a little more from you, babies.” you looked over your shoulder and winked. your reflection in the screen was pretty, beautiful even. one of his hands was lazily placed on your hip and the other placed behind his head. the sight of him slowly disappearing and appearing again was a spectacular sight to see. the way his heavy balls lightly slapped your ass was heavenly and the taut muscles flexed on his spread thighs was probably enough to make someone cream in their pants.
the pinging had begun once again and you increased your pace each time a donation came through. he eventually was gripping your hips hard enough to leave bruises as he began to thrust into you, hard and fast. your moans were already pornographically loud when you were at a slow pace, but now they filled the room with the sound of skin slapping skin.
“shit bunny, this cunt is so fuckin’ good. i can’t wait for you to make a mess on this dick.” you clenched down on him every time he spoke the filth that had gotten you off so many times before. your legs were beginning to tremble and your pussy was twitching in a way that told him you were close, right there even.
“fuck yes. cum on my cock.. ride that shit. show them how much of a dirty fuckin’ slut you are f’me.” his words coupled with his rough thrusts to punctuate the syllables sent you over the edge. your stomach felt white-hot as you creamed on him. he removed the hand from behind his head to spread your pussy lips and watch the glistening arousal flood his dick. the ring of your cum gathered on the base. that and your tits knocking together in his face made him slow himself to keep him from cumming too.
“hope y’got another one in ya. turn the fuck around and sit again.” you quickly got up and whined at the loss. katsuki growled at the sight of your hole already gaping for him.
you let out another whine of pleasure as you sat back on his cock again. your knees and shins were placed on both sides of his thighs and his arms were wrapped around the front of you to play with your tits as he started thrusting again.
he was rougher this time, removing one of his hands from your chest to move back down to your hip to keep you close to him. his feet were firmly planted in the carpet below you to keep up his pace without fault.
“play with your tits, sweets. show them how horny you are for daddy.”
“shit.. i love when daddy fills me up… fuck fuck fuck.” you brought your hands up to your chest to play with yourself and he brought his now-free hand to toy with your swollen clit. you loudly whimpered at the sensitivity when he was touching and fucking you at the same time.
“i feel you clenchin’ my shit. already gonna cum again? you really are a desperate slut for the camera.” he started slamming his hips into yours harder and you began to bounce at a pace that met his thrusts. he felt impossibly deep inside of you as your pussy squelched and gushed around him. he was now focused on your reflection in the screen. his eyes moved back and forth from the monitor to the real you. he loved being able to see your expressions whilst also being able to watch the way your peachy ass rippled and bounce as you met his rough thrusts.
“tell me.. fuck.. tell me how bad you want it.”
“daddy please I want it to badly. I need to cum and I need to be filled with yours.”
“oh, slutty bunny wants me to breed ‘er, that’s it, yeah?” you whimpered and nodded your head as he began to thrust even harder and deeper. hitting that special spot inside you that made your whole body feel like it was on fire. the crescendo of your moans and your pussy once again tightening on him told him you were almost over the edge, he was glad because he didn’t think he’d last much longer with the sight to behold in front of him.
after a few more rough thrusts and his cock dragging against your g-spot, you were once again coating the man in your release. squirting once again as he continued to ride you through your orgasm. your juices slid down his muscular thighs and onto the fabric below the both of you. you heard his growls get louder as he used your body to chase his own high. practically losing himself at the sight the clear liquid spewing from you.
“fuck bunny, y’gonna let me cum in you? fuck i’m gonna fill you up.”
a little ‘please’ was all you could get from your lips as your spent brain wasn’t thinking too clearly. he gripped your sore hips one last good time before he was spilling the contents from his balls into your overused hole.
“‘m cummin’.. fuck baby, god you feel so fuckin’ good when i’m flooding this pussy.” your body shivered as his words and the shallow thrusts he continued to pump into you. you felt impossibly empty when he slowed and lifted you off of him. that feeling soon being subdued by his thick, calloused finger tips collecting the cum that had leaked out and pushing it back into your cunt.
“know you’re fucked out, but bend over ‘n show them how pretty that pussy looks filled with my cum.” although tired, you gladly obeyed his request. standing up on wobbly legs to turn around and bend over like you’d done earlier, holding onto the edge of the lounge for stabilization.
“mmm, bet you guys wish this was yours stuffed in there, yeah?” you giggled and waved your ass back and forth as the pinging increased for a final time. katsuki grabbing your face and showing the audience how debauched and fucked out he had made you. you finished off the stream with a flirty ‘goodbye babies’ and a seductive wink before covering the camera with your hand and ending the stream.
you both watched the screen go black and light up again as the total revenue flashed across the screen. both of your eyes widened as you saw the number. you both expected into six fugures, you didn’t expect to be that well into six figures. it was more money made in a single stream than the two of you would made from a few pornos. the two of you decided the split the money equally as it made the most sense and was only fair.
the screen blackened again, this time the transcript of the comments lit up the screen. you decided to sit and read whilst the blond got up to redress.
“hey kats, they want me to peg you!” you say in front of the laptop, still naked as the day you were born minus the thigh-highs, and read through the comments. a lot of them complimenting the pair of you or offering you guys money for sex. sometimes you came across comments that made you audibly laugh, this being one of those moments.
“fat chance. most that’s been in my ass is a plug.”
“I could change that.” you wiggled a brow at him and he dramatically rolled his eyes. he stood in the corner of your room and you watched him tug a white compression shirt on.
“adventurous thing, arentcha?”
“adventurous is my middle name.”
“yeah, okay dumbass.” it was your turn to rolls your eyes as you went to your twitter to tweet about the success of the stream, definitely showing up the director that dared trash yours and bakugo’s names. after tweeting, you decided to scroll your feed a bit to see if anyone had said anything yet. if the money you guys make didn’t show the success of the stream, the slew of people tweeting about it sure did.
@better-luxe-next-time: made more in one stream with @.officialdynamight than that slimeball has made in his whole career <3
@.officialdynamight: wanna see my POV with @better-luxe-next-time? unlock the videos on my onlyfans @.dynamight.
@.alien.queen.pinky: wettest i’ve ever been from watching a stream. 3some? @better-luxe-next-time @.officialdynamight
@bigredriot: I couldn’t tell who I wanted more 😫
@chargeboltt: she could step on me and i’d say thank you!
@chakoraka i’d kill an elderly woman to be sandwiched between them.
@sticky-sero: not even gay but i’d suck his ween ngl
you smiled at the tweets your fellow stars had posted. it some sick, weird way it warmed your heart that they all had your backs and watched the stream to help you prove a point. you even noticed some of them donating their own money. the smile that grew on your face slowly drooped again once you saw another tweet posted 7 minutes ago from dynamight himself.
@.officialdynamight: 50 retweets and we’ll stream weekly. @better-luxe-next-time
“seriously, katsuki? 50 retweets?”
“i’ll take any excuse to get inside you. got the sweetest cunt i’ve ever fucked.” you took the bunny ears off and slid your stockings off your legs as he handed you his t-shirt. it fell right at your mid-thigh and swallowed your torso whole. “and trust me, i’ve fucked a lot.”
“me too, we’re in the same business, y’know,” you let out a light giggle at his exaggerated eye roll, “but yeah, best dick i’ve ever had.”
“so we can agree, one retweet?”
“sure, kats, one retweet.” his vermillion eyes darkened and his lips contorted into a cheshire cat-like smile as he opened his twitter app and turned the screen to face you. the tweet already have over 100 retweets and it’d only been up for 10 minutes.
“looks like you might wanna start getting comfy with me, bunny.”
part one.
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