─── 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄

— aheago faces (hcs)

req : I’m a big fan, I was hoping you could do headcannons for Atsumu, Suna, and Oikawa reacting to their girl making aheago faces when they’re about to cum?! I don’t know if that’s too much but thank you - anon

jj’s notice : sexc idea thank u thank u <3

The vibrations of your moans shook your thighs in Atsumu’s hold, back arching beautifully off of his silk sheets as he leaned over you

“‘So pretty,” he murmured as he watched your tongue slip past your lips, hips slamming rough into your ass, it stung but that pain couldn’t compare to the heavy feeling in your stomach

Soon, you saw double of your bleach blonde boyfriend, eyes crossing as he rammed his cock into just the right spot

“Oh-” your nails raked down his forearms, legs going limp in his grasp, your pussy fluttering against his dick as you reached a euphoric high that none of your other boyfriends could even dream of giving you

“Mmm, you could be a model with that face baby,” he whispered in your ear, lapping at your earlobe gently and resisting the urge to chuckle at the harsh convulsions your body was letting out

The mirror placed in front of your bed was so close that your pants had made it a little foggy, lusty eyes never daring to leave Suna as he pounded your cunt from behind

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he placed a firm palm against your hips, keeping them steady and putting a halt to your desperate grinding

“Quit backing up onto me, I know how to fuck you properly,” he murmured, abs flexing ever so slightly under his tight compression shirt

Your tongue lolled out of your mouth, Suna’s gaze fixated on the way you were panting like a bitch in heat, but fuck you never looked better

“Look at that face,” he forced you up towards him by your hair, squeezing your hot cheeks with a hand. “You can only make that fucking face for me, got that? Hm? That’s only for me to see.”

It was nights like these where Oikawa knew he had been blessed with you, nights where you’d ride all the way up to the tip and slam back down with intentions of making your pretty little hole cum around him

“Hah,” he groaned out, throwing his head back as you tightened around him purposely. Originally, he was gonna slap a hand down on your ass for it, but instead he snaked a hand up the valley of your tits and rested his hand around your throat. “Shhh, open up for me baby.”

Tears of pleasure streamed past your cheeks, dripping down his wrist as you stuck your tongue out like a good girl. His thumb pressed gently against it, a pile of spit falling onto his thighs as you picked up your pace

“Fuck fuck fuck!” You screamed out, your entire body clenching as Tooru began thrusting up into you. At some point, you weren’t sure when, your eyes had remained crossed at the feeling of being stuffed full

You could tell that he was close, that was when he started rambling. “God, such a lewd face, you’re the prettiest little thing in the fucking world. That’s a promise. You know that? God, just like that, keep sticking that tongue out.”

meet me in the pouring rain

tags: comfort, established relationship, aftermath of fights, happy ending!!!!!

obviously, you two had your fights. it would be stupid to think you didn't: stupid to assume the two of you were constantly perfect.

you curl up by the door of your bedroom, trying to stop yourself from crying.

you hated this. you hated how you had expected anything different. of course sae itoshi would choose football over you. it was what he had been doing for his entire life.

but why had you thought today would be something different? just because it was your birthday?

you had asked him if you two were doing anything so excitedly, so stupidly. he had looked at you with the blankest expression you had seen.

and of course when you tried to press the matter, he had snapped at you that he was busy- to not bother him before practice.

and the words had spewed out of your mouth, telling him to get on with it and get out of the house.

sae hadn't argued further, merely blinking at you in vague confusion before slamming the door behind him.

he hadn't returned for lunch. and with the sheer amount of rain outside, you knew he couldn't be practicing still. (well, you mused, there was a slight chance.)

but that meant he had to be taking shelter somewhere away from your home, somewhere with other people.

lightning crackled outside. the rain was really coming on in droves now. you curl further into a ball and listen to your own heartbeat, steady and calming.

the notification sound of your phone was a scare, and you flinch, hard. you look around for the source of the noise. the dings continue on and on.

when you finally find your phone, you're stunned to see the contact sae <33

the messages are a clear change from his usual short ones, practically an entire chain of frantic words. it's a drastic change compared to the dead silence he's been giving you today.

y/n

fuck i'm sorry

i didn't mean what i did in the morning

i forgot the date i'm so sorry

y/n?

i'm outside. you don't have to come if you don't want to. i'll stay.

you stare at that last message. sae was-

you run to her window, heart rate rising. you can barely see past the sheer amount of rain slamming down.

but sae was there. you can make out his vague form, the rain unforgivably landing on top of his head.

you almost fall down the stairs with how fast you run down. you skid to a stop in front of the door.

your hand turns on the knob.

“sae,” you breathe out.

sae looks at you with a bouquet of soaked roses and a small box, looking more like a drowned rat than the boyfriend you knew.

“you're going to get sick,” you sputter. “what were you-”

“i love you,” sae interrupts, eyes glowing with an intensity unfamiliar to you.

you've only seen that look on the field, when he's truly concentrating.

"i'm so fucking sorry," he continues. "i need you to know that you are my first priority. i know i don't act like it- but you're the best thing that's happened to me."

your mouth hangs open, your voice weak. "come inside."

he does. you gently take the roses from him and place them on the table. he pockets the box, and you don't question him.

sae waits patiently for you to speak.

"i'm sorry too," you finally say. "i shouldn't have-"

he grabs onto your hands, squeezing reassuringly. "don't apologize. im the one who forgot. it's not-it'll never be your fault."

you swallow. "i love you. but you should really go change-"

"before that," sae digs back into his pocket and pulls out the neatly wrapped box. "here."

the wrapping paper gives easily underneath your nails. you eye the box warily. it's clearly jewelry, so you crack the thing open-

"jesus christ-" you fumble the box.

sae catches it easily, raising one eyebrow.

"you got a ring?"

"it's not what you think it is." he hums, gently taking the ring out of the box. it's a pretty little thing, all delicate and fragile looking. "my proposal wouldn't be this tacky."

you stare at him. "so the ring is..."

"a promise," he answers as he slides it carefully onto your finger. "for a better one eventually."

the blood rushes to your face immediately. sae doesn't seem phased at all, even if he's just confessed that he's going to marry you.

"i-"

sae sneezes. once, and then twice.

you grab his arm. "okay. you are getting into some warm clothes."

he frowns, but follows you up the stairs anyway.

when the two of you reach the bedroom, you stop him by the door.

"you know, i only wanted two words."

his head tilts almost imperceptibly, confusion leaking-

sae smiles. "happy birthday."

exercise

Hiiiii! Omg I love this blog. I have another request, I know you’ve done generic shut you up with a kiss hcs but what about real ones?? Like during an argument and they kiss you maybe a little steamy 👉👈 Can it please include Atsumu, Suna, Mattsun, Iwaizumi, Osamu/Sakusa? 💙

HAIKYUU BOYS KISSING YOU DURING AN ARGUMENT

characters — timeskip!miya atsumu, matsukawa issei, miya osamu, iwaizumi hajime, suna rintarō

a/n — warning ⚠️ suggestive and some rough making out/name calling [i use “baby girl” in mattsuns] not rly angsty even tho there’s talk of arguments! tysm for this request, i love writing steamy make outs YAY & the character flavour!!! pls enjoy <3 tysm vale @iwasumi for proof reading for me ily

☾ ATSUMU the reason youd both been arguing had been long forgotten, but you were both too stubborn to back down as you stood in front of each other, “you’re a fucking asshole atsumu.” “don’t act like yer much better prince/ss.” “oh, fuck off miya.” he chuckled dryly, his eyes darkening as he approached you slowly, your feet carrying you backwards until your back met the wall as his hand came to rest beside your head, his lips ghosting yours “that’s not ma fuckin’ name.” you would’ve whimpered if his lips didn’t smash against yours instead, his bigger body slamming you back against the wall as his hands harshly groped the flesh of your ass, feeling your knees buckle as his tongue roughly slid against yours before he sucked it into his mouth “‘ts-‘tsumu.” “hngh, fuck—there ya go baby, that’s more like it.” feeling him wrap your thighs around his waist as he groaned against you, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth before he moved to suck at the sensitive flesh on your jawline, his tongue smoothing over the newly raised marks that he left behind “let me hear ya say that again, angel.”

☾ MATTSUN his brows furrowed as you stood before him, arms crossed over your chest before you rolled your eyes at the indifference on his face “you’re not listening to me issei.” his head fell back against the couch as he ran a tired hand down his face with a sigh “we’re not getting anywhere, i mean there’s no point even trying to talk to you matsukawa.” “is that right?” you rolled yours eyes before moving to leave only to feel yourself be pulled back as his figure rose from the couch, sitting back again- this time with you pressed tightly against him as his hand grabbed the back of your neck, you felt something familiar replace the anger in your stomach when you felt his mouth roughly move against yours, causing you to whimper as he swallowed each whine greedily - followed by his own deep groans, his grip tightening to push you closer before he pulled away with a smirk on his swollen lips, his hand moving to tangle in your hair to yank your head back as he placed sloppy but chaste kisses up your neck as you shuddered “come on babygirl, how about you let me make it up to you, hmm?”

☾ OSAMU you were in his office as he glared at you, your back pressed against his desk,“you need to rest samu.” “and a told ya a cant, ya agreed ta this when ya married me.” “all i want is a fucking minute of your time!” a silence fell over the room as your voice raised, your breath hitching as he walked towards you, his eyes a little darker now from what you could see under his cap but all thoughts melted when you felt his tongue forcefully slide past your lips to taste your own, your mind felt hazy- focusing on his deep groans against you before he leaned forward to swipe the work off the desk behind you, hand grabbing your thighs to lift you ontop before his own body caged you against it “s-samu—“ your words were cut off as he pulled away, his tongue replaced by his fingers as he stuffed two inside your mouth “be good and keep that pretty mouth of yers quiet angel.” you nodded as your tongue slid over his fingers, watching his swollen lips part as he groaned deeply before leaning over you once again “shit— so good, ya were fuckin’ made for me.”

☾ IWAIZUMI got jealous, he trusted you but something about the way you giggled at oikawa’s jokes really irked him today, both of you returning home as he slammed the door, finally causing you to blow “what’s your fucking problem iwa?” “don’t fucking piss me off.” “or what? gonna pout about it?” your teasing tone immediately dropped when you felt your back slam against the door behind you, his eyes darker this time as his hands wrapped tightly around your wrists, pinning them beside you as his lips moved to bite at the sensitive spot on your neck before soothing over it with his tongue “you better watch that fucking mouth doll.” your mouth opened to reply, but he knew from the look in your eyes you weren’t done as his lips latched onto yours, his tongue not giving you a chance to think never mind speak as it slid against your own, your back arching against his chest as he groaned into your mouth- pulling away to scoff as you whined at the loss, taking both your wrists into one hand in favour of roughly grabbing your jaw instead, his thumb tracing your now swollen bottom lip “you know he’ll never make you feel as fucking good as i do.”

☾ SUNA glared at you tiredly as he lay back on his forearms “do you not have anything to say rintarō?” he rolled his eyes as he scoffed “are you done?” you wanted to scream at the stoic look on his face, but before you could think you found yourself stumbling forward towards him, his slender fingers moving to the base of your neck as you fell into his lap, you could’ve whimpered at the heated look he gave you but you felt the tension in your shoulders melt when his lips moved against your own instead, groaning deeply as his tongue sloppily slid over yours at a lazy pace that always had you whimpering against him as he pulled away, admiring the hazy look in your eyes as you felt his fingers tighten around your throat “still so pretty for being such a fucking brat.” his drawled out tone and the loss of oxygen had your heart hammering at your chest as you stumbled over an apology, his lips moving to ghost over yours as you whined, his free hand moving to slap the flesh of your thigh before he smoothed over the red skin “where’s that attitude now huh?”

𝐬𝐲𝐦𝐛𝐢𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐜. (bokuto kōtarō x reader)

denoting a mutually beneficial relationship between different people or groups.

contains : nsfw content, car sex, mutual pining, multiple orgasms, lots and lots of dirty talk, creampie

word count : 2k

note : reposting from my other blog!

‘hey, what are you up to tonight?’

you roll your eyes at his attempt to be casual, asking what you’re doing tonight despite it being nearly midnight. however, there’s a small part of you that’s thankful for this little “pre hookup foreplay,” as he loved to call it. getting up from the warmth of your bed, you type a quick response as you make your way to the bathroom.

‘nothing, why?’

it’s simple enough— not too forward, but still allowing a continuation of the conversation, if he wants to. no matter how many times the two of you had done this little song and dance, you’d never been the one to initiate it nor would you ever ask him first. it’s far too risky—there’s no telling if he’s even here, or if he’s off at some away game across the world. no telling if he’s in a mood, no telling if he even still has your number. so you wait for him. always.

‘can i pick you up?’

heat rises to your cheeks and you hate that even after all this time, the butterflies in your stomach remain all the same.

‘yeah, i’ll be ready in 20’

nearly half an hour later you find yourself climbing into the sleek black SUV and you’re met with bokuto’s eager, glowing eyes raking over your form. the smell of his cologne hits your nostrils and you have to stop the whine that threatens to fall past your lips. he is the most intoxicating man you’ve ever seen. everything about him pulls you in, deeper and deeper until all that’s left is him.

“hey baby,” bokuto hums, his palm already running up and down your exposed thigh. the pet name rolls off his tongue much too easily for your liking but when you feel his rough, calloused hands squeeze your hips there isn’t much you can say. “how’s my pretty girl doin?”

heat rises to your cheeks as you gently push his hands away and look down at your lap. but his grip doesn’t even budge. you peek up at him through your lashes and catch a glimpse of his wild eyes, pupils dilated and full of need.

“kō, i–”

“kiss me.” he interrupts, bringing his palms up to your cheeks to cradle your face. “please? just kiss me.”

the desperation in his voice is crystal clear. he can’t be alone, can’t spend one more night in his bed by himself when there’s the possibility to have you in his arms instead.

there’s no part of you that wants to deny him, no part that ever could. not when he’s begging you to stay by his side.

neither of you were ready for a relationship, both far too impulsive and emotionally unstable. but that didn’t diminish the love either of you felt.

loving bokuto is reminiscent of the legend of icarus. with you as icarus and bokuto as the sun. his vibrance and positive outlook on life is so alluring you can’t help but gravitate toward him. he brings a light into every room he enters. how could you not follow him?

however, much like the legend, you’ll end up flying too close to the sun and end up scalded. his schedule is impossibly hectic, he’s never in one place for more than a month at a time, and even when he is stationary there’s still a million and one things to do in his everyday life, which leaves no time for anyone else. even if both parties tried as hard as they could.

but on the rare occasion of having some time off, bokuto would always come running to you.

-

time feels like it stops when your lips finally meet, thick and heavy air surrounding you both. his hand caress your hair as he pulls you even closer to him, your lower abdomen starting to press into the center console.

his face nearly drops after you push lightly on his chest to get some air, but he quickly recovers as he watches you climb into the backseat of the car.

“yeah?” he’s breathless as he speaks, large hands gripping the backs of the driver and passenger seats. his knuckles are turning white by the time you flash him a shy smile and nod.

“yeah.”

bokuto fumbles as he moves, his broad shoulders getting caught on the seatbacks. you can’t help but giggle at the way his eyebrows furrow as he pushes his way through, climbing on top of you and effectively managing to cage you within his arms.

“don’t make me wait any longer,” your voice comes out as a needy whisper, each word dripping with hope. he’s never been able to deny you— especially not when you beg so perfectly.

his hand slips into your panties easily, and he lets out a low groan when his fingers glide over your slick pussy.

“this wet already?” you can hear his smirk.

“please–” you whine, gripping his bicep and pulling his arm closer to you as you grind your hips into his hand at the same time.

“please what?” he answers simply, refusing to sink his fingers into you too soon. your mind blanks, shaking your head as another whine rips from your throat. “greedy little thing,” bokuto mumbles under his breath, bringing his other hand up to the back of your neck and pressing your foreheads together.

“please what, baby?”

“pleasetouchmekotaroineedtofeelyouplease–”

he shushes you by pressing his lips into yours and dipping two of his thick fingers into your tight, warm cunt. even though it’s only two of his fingers the stretch is already so much. he slowly works them in deeper, gently dragging the rough pads of his fingertips along your tender walls. you let out a little gasp as he stretches your tight pussy out, curling his middle finger to hit that spot inside of you that makes you whimper.

“right th–”

“–there, yeah i know pretty girl. right there’s your lil spot isn’t it? right there’s where you need it?” the slight hint of degradation behind his words makes your mind go blank as you begin to nod your head rapidly. your hips also start moving of their own accord as your first orgasm begins rising in your abdomen. bokuto can tell you’re close, the way your voice gets extra breathy and your pussy quivers around his fingers tells him everything he needs to know.

he leans in close, placing a hot open mouthed kiss on the spot just below your earlobe. before pulling away and whispering,

“go ahead, baby, cum all over my fingers. be a good girl and cum for me, c’mon-”

and you do, because there’s no part of you that could ever deny him anything he asked for.

everything pauses and it takes a few moments for you to catch your breath again. bokuto doesn’t give you nearly enough time to recover before he’s gripping your chin with one hand and making you watch as he licks his cumsoaked fingers clean.

the sight alone makes your clit throb, but when bokuto instinctively grinds his hard cock into the plush of your slightly exposed thigh a needy whine falls from your lips.

“more?” is all he says, flattening his hand over your chest, giving gentle squeezes to your flesh.

you nod desperately in response, wrapping your legs around his waist. his cock brushes against your soaked core, the fabric of your panties completely drenched in your own slick and cum.

“oh baby,” bokuto coos, hooking his fingers in the waistband of your underwear and slowly peeling them down your legs. “made such a mess of your pretty panties..”

before you can protest, he’s slipping them into his pocket while nipping at your inner thigh in an attempt to distract you.

“for later.” he whispers. you watch with wide eyes as bokuto pulls on the drawstring on his sweats. you reach down between the two of you and wrap your fingers around the base of his cock.

“‘s so big, kō…” you muse, giving his cock an experimental squeeze. bokuto whines in response, thrusting his hips up, silently encouraging you to continue.

“yeah baby?” his voice is breathy, an obvious sign that he’s already close. “you think you can take it?”

“please”

the angle is a bit awkward, your head bumps the car door handle but bokuto leans down, pushing your knees up to your chest. your attempt to kick your feet in protest is feeble at best, because as soon as he wraps his lips around your clit, your body goes slack.

and then a few seconds later he’s above you again, only this time you can feel the fat head of his cock gliding over your soaked folds. he wastes no more time, lining himself up and pushing into you, inch by inch. he’s careful to not overwhelm you, allowing you to adjust and he even moves his hand from the back of your knee to cradle the back of your head.

his hips still when they meet yours, despite every nerve in his body screaming at him to pound you into the plush leather seats of the backseat of his car.

“hey, you okay?” he forces himself to focus back on you, to ignore the horny little voice in his head in favor of your wellbeing.

“yeah,” you exhale shakily. “i’m great.”

that’s all the reassurance he seems to need because as soon as those words leave your lips he’s pulling out halfway, and immediately thrusting back into you. he sets a brain melting pace, his fat cock hitting sensitive spots you forgot even existed. all you can do is lay there and take it, occasionally babbling about how good he feels and how well he fucks you.

“fuck, tight ‘lil thing aren’t you?” he sounds like he’s miles away, but everything about him surrounds you completely.

a simple shift of his hips has you hurtling toward your second orgasm, your pussy still extremely sensitive from the first. you grasp at his shoulders, raking your nails down his toned arms and you swear you hear him chuckle.

“keep squeezin’ me like that and i just might cum too, pretty girl.”

abandoning all rational thought, you respond. “s-so do it.”

his hips stutter and he grabs your chin, forcing you to look up at him. “what did you just say?”

your eyes widen, afraid that you’ve gone too far but his eyes are just as wild, just as desperate.

“cum inside of me, kōtarō, i want you to fill me up.” you can hardly believe the words that come out of your mouth but before you can take them back you see the glimmer in bokuto’s eyes.

he grins, “yeah baby? you want me to pump your little pussy full, is that it?”

your face burns with embarrassment but you nod anyway, figuring there’s no use denying something you both want. bokuto watches as you hook your arms under your knees, holding yourself open, perfectly poised just for him.

he loses what little control he has left, pulling out so just the tip of his cock is still inside of you before slamming his hips back, reaching down to thumb your aching clit. his thrusts soon become erratic and it’s not long after until you’re both babbling about how you’re going to cum.

“please fill me up, please-” your whines are pathetic, and you’re cut off by your third orgasm sneaking up on you, sending white hot waves of pleasure throughout your body. bokuto lets out a low groan before he bottoms out, and you feel the warmth of his cum inside of you.

“so good baby, such a good girl-” bokuto praises as you ride out the aftershocks of your orgasm. he cradles your cheek with his hand and leans down to litter your face in soft kisses. he’s always cuddly and affectionate after sex, not that you’d ever complain.

“i’m here for the weekend, by the way.” he says between kisses. “and if you’re not busy i’d love to spend it with you..”

you smile softly, nodding in response. “i’d like that.”

#fly high hinata

hey im new here does hinata live at the end of hq?

during the olympics oikawa spikes a ball directly into his head using his full force, killing him instantly.

ACCIDENTAL NUDE SEND: the masterlist !

a compiled list of all the accidental nude send fics! all are nsfw.

↬ miya osamu, part 2

↬ suna rintarō

↬ iwaizumi hajime

↬ yamaguchi tadashi

↬ sakusa kiyoomi 

↬ miya atsumu 

↬ kita shinsuke 

↬ oikawa tōru 

coming soon/in progress: akaashi keiji, matsukawa issei, bokuto kōtarō, kuroo tetsurō, tendō satori, semi eita (possibly more!)

Menhera isn’t “scars make me cute.”

Menhera isn’t “wounds are aesthetic.”

It’s more “I can be cute, even if I have scars.”

It’s more “I can cute, even if I’m emotionally damaged.”

Please stop romanticizing self harm and mental illness! That isn’t what menhera is about and a lot of people still get it confused. Menhera is about internal struggle.

If you think a post on my blog might be leaning towards romanticizing harm or illness please inform me and I’ll take it down

— Sylvia Plath, from The Bell Jar

┌─ “ ! „ CADAVER

tw. wound fucking, blood, gore, don’t read this if you’re squeamish!!, somnophilia, oral, noncon, megumi is delusional in this, yandere, belly bulge but gross! , cannibalistic thoughts wordcount. 6.4k

a/n. this one,,, was me pushing myself to just go buck wild, and channel my inner junji, and i think i got somewhere with it... a select few of you will understand me when i say that ,, this is like my love letter to megumi fr ♡ like i said though, this one might be the one that has people a little yucked out but! it's basically my halloween fic, for the spooky month

fushiguro megumi x fem!reader

When the rattling of the stretcher finally quiets in the halls and the rising rate of adrenaline starts to flatten out, Megumi’s lost on what to do. Any of the other sorcerers can’t decide what the next step is either, it seems. Yuji with his back pressed against the glass and staring off into the empty part of the hall they just came from, and principal Yaga a stern quietness and arms crossed. Ieiri-san will do her best work today of any days if there’s anything to be done about it, but Megumi can tell. That uncertainty hangs over all of them as the faint breathing of a collapsed body grows more pitched and panicked.

Megumi always sort of hated you. He didn’t like you from the second he first met you, and it just grew and grew and grew from there. He hates your stupid demeanor with your higher-than-thou morals and your sky-high milestones and that grin that could make even the coldest heart split in two. It doesn’t escape him that this is the same reason he always did enjoy Maki, but you were — more recognizable to him, and yet somehow much further away.

He always hated the way he’d catch himself watching the soft motion of your lashes, or how your mouth would form words, the heat that would carry color to your face. He always hated the quiet moments you’d sit by his side, rattling his heart out of his chest and laughing at him for his hot cheeks; and he always hated how you’d be the thought on his mind right after he’d made sure his own limbs hadn’t yet been blown to bits. But standing with his hands covered in a coating of blood that isn’t his, dripping onto the panes of the old flooring, he wonders what that hatred ever really got him. It never helped him understand you better, that for someone so alike himself, you were so much better at everything.

His chest is rising and falling too fast.

Gojo’s too late, always is when it comes down to the wire, Megumi thinks as the lankier man rushes through and stops a few feet away from them. Yaga’s brow pinches, before he lifts his head the slightest bit to acknowledge the white blond. “What’s the status,” Gojo has to ask, and before he has another conscious thought, Megumi’s furiously rubbing his hands over his sweater in an attempt to get the blood off while his teeth clack with how hard he’s clenching them. There’s a thickness between his ears that makes everything sound far off. The blood stains his fingers the more he rubs, and his face gets hotter and hotter as it lasts.

But he thinks he hears the principal explain.

How you had been pinned down and knocked clean out, head bashed against the concrete pillars. How Megumi had been too busy trying and failing to keep the uglier curse from blasting you both to shit, to notice. How the other special grade had picked you up by the neck and unceremoniously shoved something into your mouth and pushed until it went down your throat - until you started convulsing, spitting out blood and bile before he could reach you. Megumi hadn’t taken the time to look then, but he knows now what it was, slimy, decaying contents of a little vial that had gone missing a few months ago.

“The girl must’ve been a real good match.” Yaga pushes his fingers to his brow, as if forcibly trying to push the frown down. “Ieiri’s doing what she can.” It doesn’t make any of them feel better when Gojo clicks his tongue and aims his eyes at the door, before casting a quick glance at Megumi under thick, blond lashes. He wants to puke. He’d shoved his fingers down your throat for what felt like hours, trying desperately to get you to throw up the curse. Had carried you all the way back while you were sobbing and wailing in pain. Nothing.

If even the worst case repeats itself, they’ll have another incarnation on their hands, and the noose will be tightened around your throat. Yuji must have already realized this, because he’s yet to say anything since you’d been tied onto the stretcher with blood pouring out of your nose and ears and coughing up grime. Megumi’s not even sure if Ieiri would hesitate to put you down without a second warning before it gets to the same turning point. And he is pissed. At the situation, his friends, himself, you. He’s so angry his hands shake, and so angry tears start stinging behind his eyes, feeling like any motion might cause him to throw up. He hates you.

+

Your chest’s rising with big motions up and down, up and down, as you drum your feet on his bedsheets like an excited rabbit. Megumi grunts, snatches the book from your hands and tosses it back down with the others that were not-so-neatly stacked on his desk. Your shape on his bed makes a dent in his mind that he’ll have to keep replaying over and over when he closes his eyes, and it has a frown pulling his eyebrows down automatically. “So grumpy,” you yawn, and also roll over onto your stomach to tuck your legs to your core, lifting one hand to rest your face into it.

“This isn’t your room.”

“Might as well be,” you giggle back, and he watches for a moment as your hair falls along your shoulders in a gentle brush, making you look even more enchanting. You’re soft and parts of you are shiny like silk, seemingly oozing your rosy, peachy aura all over his stuff. You catch his eyes for just a few breaths, still rising your chest too distractingly, before you push yourself up and slide off the bed to walk up to him. He pivots to thumb through the notes on his desk again, to be farther away from your face probably, and his shoulders rise into an uncomfortable pinch when you approach, feet patting on his floor. “Megumi.” You say his name with a clear pout.

Then heat covers his skin at the base of his throat and he freezes, letting the way you drag your soft lips over his pulse fill him up entirely. His hands shake too hard to keep a grip on the paper, so he spins you around and shoves you back against the desk as you hiss at the sudden painful grip, his fist wrapped into the collar of your shirt. “I already told you to stop doing that.” He hisses, and your eyes are wide and glittering like diamonds, beautiful color peering up at him.

“But you like it when I do that,” you whisper back ever so softly, and his head feels like it’s splitting at the seams, cracking his skull under a non-escapable pressure. He can’t think, can’t even eat normally without the ghost of you hanging over him and shaking him up. It’s unbearable even when you’re not around. His fist unclenches from the flimsy fabric to instead grip your chin with his thumb, and his heart bangs against his ribcage harder than can be normal. Harder than is healthy. A little thought in the back of his skull begs to push. Just once, deny you from digging your claws deeper into him— but he’s already melted to your shape before he can blink.

His face drops like you’re magnetic, thighs pushing you further into the desk and also into him; and it’s truly embarrassing that his hands are still shaking like they do. You lean in when he does, and let your lips meet his hungry, treacherous mouth, other hand sliding to your waist to pull you closer. Your tongue brushes his and he implodes inside, and he swears it hurts to be this close to you.

Not that you care. Your arms wind around his neck to pull him even closer, and his blood feels like it’s boiling under his skin.

+

He finds himself wandering back to the quieter wing of the school when the sun’s already dipped far past the horizon, and the cold starts picking up. He’s dragging his feet, so he won’t fucking rush back to the room he finds himself thinking about so fast he stumbles. He’s glaring at the patterns in the floorboards so he doesn’t cry. You’re stable- quiet puffs of air escaping your nose every few seconds, but you’re still under surveillance. As far as the clans are concerned, they’ll put something sharp between your eyes sooner rather than later, before whatever’s slumbering inside you wakes up. But Gojo’s fighting for you. It makes him grimace to think about.

Knocking his knuckles onto the doorframe, he enters the dimly lit room. Nanami doesn’t stand when he spots him, but does uncross his legs as he takes a deep breath. Neither of them speak for a while, and the dark haired man takes that time to run his eyes over you. You’re not as dirty as you were when you first got back, shivering and shaking. You’re no longer dripping with blood, though he’s sure if he were to look close enough, he’d still be able to see flecks of it between your cracked lips. As he walks up, he finds himself thinking that you look strangely peaceful, and that doesn’t seem entirely right.

Save for the bloody mark that seems branded into your forehead, you look like you’re quietly sleeping on the metal slab that supports your body. After all the pain and agony you’ve caused in him, sleepless nights and long days of wondering, hoping you’d be okay. Why is it that he’s the one affected by you? Why is it that he’s the one who’s going to have to say goodbye again? He stares at your unmoving form as if that’ll give him an answer, but it doesn’t. And the pit in his stomach swells again. He’s just so angry all the time. Megumi breathes out. “It’s my turn to take watch for a while.”

“You’re early,” Nanami’s deep baritone chastises, but he gets up from the seat anyway. He smooths out the wrinkles in his suit, before slowly placing a hand on the other’s shoulder. The weight is heavy, and somehow doesn’t soothe him at all. But there’s an attempt, he guesses. He’s still not entirely sure why everyone is looking at him like he’s the one who needs it most, broken and disheveled and mourning. He’s been able to finish his tasks like everyone else has, and he can banish the thought of you when he’s supposed to focus on work— at least, mostly. He doesn’t need the fucking pity. “Want some coffee? Or green tea?” Nanami asks, letting his hand slide off when Megumi shrugs.

“No. I’m okay.”

The older man seems to hesitate, simply nodding when he walks past. Before closing the door behind him, he once again clears his voice, and Megumi turns over his shoulder. The blond has this look in his eyes, of pity, as he talks. “Megumi, there’s a chance she pulls through.” Why again - that fucking pity? “Don’t give up.” Though it makes him tingle with an unbearable sort of itch deep under the skin, he grits his teeth, and his brain’s hot and irritated when he responds.

“I wasn’t going to.” Nanami doesn’t seem to believe him, but still softly slides the door closed behind him, and when the footsteps grow softer and softer, Megumi allows for a second to collect himself. He braces his hands onto the metal as he leans in, close enough to feel just the slightest bit of your warmth on his fingers, and see the way you’re still breathing, though shallow, too faint for his liking. His brows pinch when he finds himself with his forehead pressed to your stomach, hunched over like he’s praying at your shrine or something. But he can’t help it.

As much time as he spent beside you with a frown on his face, it never feels enough. He can’t stay away, like it’s an involuntary thing— you leave him no choice in the matter. Even here in the darkness, whining softly into your wheezed breaths, it isn’t enough to be beside you. He can’t do anything from here at your bedside; and that uselessness makes him feel even more uneasy. He needs to be closer to you. Wants to be so close you two get stuck together and melt together like an inseparable entity, would want to crawl inside you if he could.

His nose presses into the clean shirt that smells like your laundry, as he clenches his fists so hard along the table edge they start to ache. His eyes are pressed closed tight when he allows him just a second to nose below your sternum, and that uncomfortable stinging sensation comes back to his eyes. “Fucking idiot,” his lips brush against your covered skin, taking in the lack of heat, of your smell and the way you sounded with his face buried there, “I didn’t mean it.”

+

“Aw, ow, ow, Megumi~” You pout with a pitched whine as his hand stays screwed around your knee for a little longer, keeping you trapped under his heavier, taller body so that you start wiggling. Your head falls back against his arm, and you lean to press a few kisses to his wrist that’s holding your own to the floor. “Be more gentle.” You pout when you pull back and flash him that fucking look that sends icy shivers down his spine, and exactly nothing else. “You can be gentle, can’t you?” Every other part of him flushes with heat under your doe-eyed, pitiful look, definitely when you start wiggling out of his grasp like you’re suddenly over the game.

You started it. He wouldn’t put himself in your range on purpose. When you’re about halfway out from under his crouched form, you sit up to be face to face; and you brush your hand past his ear, down his jaw and neck and trail his collarbones, all places he’s convinced are now stained a bright, obnoxious pink from his flush. You let your fingers linger when you tilt your head aside a bit so you can slot your lips over his into a sweet, little kiss, and you pull your lips into another pout. “Swear you’re doing it to hurt me sometimes. I’m never trying to hurt you, you know.” A few strands of hair fall over your eye when you sit below him, and he has to fight every single muscle in his body not to push it back for you.

He wants to see your eyes. He wants you to see him like this, pinned under you like the attraction you render him as— his body collapses on top of you as you start giggling all fucking cutely, and his heart races more than it ever has. Your heartbeat drums into his face when he buries it into your softness, chest against his cheek, too long for his own sanity before he drags himself off you. And it is a drag. His entire body starts feeling sluggish when you’re this close to him, close enough to drown himself in your scent. He won’t ever say it, but that scent gets him hard and awfully mellow all at once, his cock coming to life in his pants before he’s moving.

You look happy. Your eyes are those bright, gentle colors that rain down on him, and your lips are quirked into a soft smile, you must know what you’re doing to him. Setting him up for failure again. He huffs and pushes himself onto his back instead, knocking his head to the floor while you’re moving from the rug - splaying your knees either side of him before you nuzzle right back on top of his chest and make it even harder to get a breath, let alone catch it. He’s sure he’s panting a little when you leave your warmth draped all over him, and you don’t do anything other than be there.

His arms are still on the floor, his body rigid under you, but you’re softly giggling into his peck before he frowns down at you again when you catch his eyes. “What?”

“Your heart is beating super fast,” you admit, not proud, not gloating - just stating the fact, and heat overtakes his neck now too. Instead of letting you wind him up any further, he bucks you off and switches positions again, now with your two wrists caught in his hands as you squeak with the ache that probably lodges in your back.

“Can you get off of me?” He sits back on his feet, not letting go of your hands yet, before your eyes flutter and you grab him back. Well, brush your fingers over the skin you can reach, pawing at him just enough to tickle. “What’s with you today?” he bites back, and also snatches his hands back to escape the onslaught of feelings that wash over him. You don’t sit up this time, and from the tilt of your head, you’re considering your answer for a while before you speak out.

“Do you like me, Megumi?” Fuck. His room seems to collapse in on itself. Or, maybe it’s his body— because he gets a little more short of breath, and his thoughts short circuit as his mouth stupidly drops open. He’s choked up for long enough that he has to clear his voice to try an answer, and even then, he gets stuck. You’re studying him so closely it must show. The blaring warmth that fills him up and makes his ears bright red. After another second, your eyes seem to dim slightly, as you push your cheek to your shoulder, opening yourself up to even more attacks. “Love y’, ‘gumi.”

+

He straightens up with enough tightness in his chest to choke him, makes his eyes sting and his head blare cold, painful warnings— he grabs some of the glasses from the small table beside him, launches it straight into the wall until it shatters into a million pieces upon impact. The loud clang doesn’t do anything to settle his anger, where he fists his hands into his hair and pulls, in hopes the worry will somehow vanish.

“Why do you always have to be such a hero?” he hisses, even though you can’t answer now, “wouldn’t it have been enough to just stay here with me?!” He tilts your face to his and drops his lips to yours, and that familiar softness is enough to have him clenching his eyes shut again against the tears. He kisses you until your mouth opens a bit, then slides his tongue up against yours and grips your shoulders, pulling your limp body towards him more. “I’ll be better to you.” He pleads. You don’t move, and the breaths going over his cheeks are so shallow.

But he can’t stop himself from tangling your tongue with his, licking into your mouth and chasing the warmth until he runs out of breath. You’re so fucking pretty still. He kisses you again, bumping teeth, and grips your hip hard as he lays over you a little more, chest to chest and feeling it brush against him with each soft pant he lets out, each gravelly moan. It doesn’t hurt so much to brush his tongue against yours, to swallow your taste on his tongue until his lips numb — but while it doesn’t ache, it’s also not enough. Before he’s able to think about the morality of his actions, his thumbs are hooking under your shirt and pushing it up, over your soft belly and ribcage all the way up until it’s over your tits, where his lips travel to as soon as the skin’s exposed. You’re so soft still, too.

He’s not sure what he’s doing other than leaving messy, open mouth kisses onto you, kneading your skin between his hands as all the warmth in his body pools into his groin. Your tits are sucked into his mouth, one then the other, as he rubs his face into the doughy skin, then he’s pulling and pinching at your tits like he knows makes you whimper. The sound’s burned into his working memory, and it drives him on to run his face down your soft body to the part where your thighs meet. The skin just above your skirt of the softest, warmest, and he full on moans when his cock twitches hard in his pants and he reaches down to grab himself.

Normally you’d be blinking up at him now, sending him that little look with grabby hands, ready to wrap your puffy lips around him— it’s different when it’s his hand screwed around himself and not even moving yet. he can’t, or he’ll cum in his pants, and he’s not going to waste his cum like that when your warm pussy’s right before him. He’s shaky when he pushes the fabric up, flipping it over your tummy; and groans again when he licks down your panties and mouths at the seat of it. It tastes so much like you his eyes roll back, and his knees give a little, while more precum leaks out of him and into his pants.

He frees his hands momentarily to slide you to the edge of the metallic table, two hands gripping your butt and squeezing, then hooking his finger in your panties to just pull them aside. He doesn’t care about the chaffing he’ll have. Not even a second thought when your little pussy is in front of him, and he pushes his mouth to you for some open mouthed kisses, down to your pussy and back up. Wrapping his mouth around your clit, he sucks hard, and rubs the bud a few times with his tongue. He swears your breathing goes more pitched and heavier when he does, when his fingers trail down your puffier lips to rub the bit of wetness around.

His cock’s painfully hard in his pants, and after a few more times licking you up and down so that your slick covers the entire bottom half of his face, he pushes the zipper down and then takes himself out to watch how red and sore the head of his cock already is, oozing pre and coating both his boxers and his shaft. He spits into his hand to give himself a few tight-wrung pumps, tighter than he likes normally- if he doesn’t, he’ll spill all over your cute, little pussy. He pushes his fingertips inside your now wetter cunt, watching it wink and beg for something to fill, and groans when one finger slides in with ease.

Your soft walls are still soft and hot around him, giving mean licks over your clit again and again in a way that would normally overstimulate you too easily. You don’t whimper or whine now, take his finger nice and sweet inside your squelching, gooey walls, only making a little noise when he slides in a second and he can feel the slight bit of stretching you need. He’s dripping onto the table now, balls tight and heavy - imagines how you moan and look when you’re sucking on them and you smack your lips with each open mouthed kiss or lick. You between his legs is always enough to have his knees giving, and it’s no different now, he has to hold himself up against you before he thinks better of it.

You’re slid back on the table too easily, making room for him when he pushes one of your legs aside— and let out a slight gasp when he hoists himself over your body. He just wants you. So bad. It’s not so embarrassing when you’re not awake to see how fucking crazy he looks, flushed, cock twitching between his legs as he strains to kiss you again, lick over your tongue for more of your taste, and breathes your name. “Baby, fuck- I need to be inside you.” He wants to hide away in your safety forever. A crystalline, fucked up thought springs up in his mind for just a second, but he banishes that with a few blinks.

Instead he lines himself up over your hot, needy pussy and pushes inside just the head at first, grunting tightly at the softness that envelops him. His whole body shudders as he pushes in deeper, feeling that pit in his stomach expand with each inch that he goes deeper, tangles his fingers with yours when he bottoms out and fills you up so well. You’re curled into his touch, and he kisses you, his thoughts blanking as he pulls back, and snaps his hips back inside you. You’re hot and wet and it feels so fucking good, clenching your hand inside his larger one. It’s not fair. He’s losing his mind, and you’re always the end of him.

His cock rubs against your swollen insides with rough, imprecise strokes — he doesn’t mean to, it’s just that trying to focus on anything other than the heat as he slides in and out of your tight pussy is too much. You’re too much; you’re haunting him even now. He kisses down your face to your neck, sucks on your skin and bites down hard enough to make a serious mark, wanting to hear you cry. Normally, you’d cry out his name so pretty, dig your nails into his back until he’s letting you go and grinding back on his cock, but you can’t do that now. His cockhead bumps your spot each time he fucks himself into you further, but it’s not enough.

It’s never been enough. He wants to be closer to you, and that horrible image that was launched into his head creeps back up before his eyes, bloody and horrible. Maybe he always told himself that he hated you because - no matter how much he fought, he would never be able to stomach actually hurting you as much as it hurts him. But now, withering on top of you as his cock thumps with how much blood rushes south, everything else falls away. He wants to claw and bite and carve his way to your insides and make you pay just a little for his sins. His body is coated in a thin sheen of sweat, thighs pumping blood through his body to his lungs, his gut, his cock.

He pulls out of you to kiss down your tits and over your covered ribs, thumbing over the head of his cock and gliding it over your puffy clit, your wet pussy lips and flicking it just in and out of your drooling cunt— before he puts a sloppy few kisses there too, tongue coated in slick. The blood pumps through his head so hard he feels dizzy, pounding behind his eyes as the heat of your cunt overwhelms him entirely. It’s too hard to stay sane -he’s never felt less sane than now- when you’re laying below him like this, ready to leave him all alone. You wormed your way into his heart when he didn’t want it, and now, now that’s all about to end.

His mouth is dry, but he’s drooling as he grips your thigh and kneads the doughy skin of your tummy— looking so soft and warm and perfectly shaped for him. He wants -needs, needs it, to feel you swallow him, ruin him- to cut you open and eat your insides out with the sick force of what he’s feeling right now— he groans your name again, desperately trying and failing to get it out of his head— the more he tries the better it feels to think it. Despite having his fist around the base of his cock, stings of white shoot over your body as he crumples in on himself and paints you with his cum. He’s still hard though, painfully so, and as soon as he’s done cumming he can already feel the building urge to do it again, trailing his shaking fingers down to your clenching pussy and rubbing your clit until your body starts wiggling back just a little too.

Megumi wants to go, bury this urge down and never think of it again. He really does— but it’s like he’s possessed, drooling over your body and flicking his cock in and out of your pussy without sliding back in. He might’ve had it wrong this whole time, but if this is love - God, he loves you, he loves, loves, loves you so much he’s not ever going to have enough. Can’t ever say goodbye, not when his entire soul’s been bound to yours, has been rotted away into nothing like this. There’s only you, and him; and he can’t get close enough to make this fucking feeling go away.

With black spots swimming over his vision, he’s not sure what he’s doing until he’s knelt on the floor and shards of glass cut his knees open through his pants; he doesn’t feel it - just trembles as he gets one of the larger shards and crawls back to you, right between your plush thighs as he kisses your face over and over until he feels like he’ll be sick. “Forgive me when you wake up, baby.” It doesn’t really sound like him anymore, faint and messy as he ruts his cock against the inside of your thigh and stares at your face for a little longer. He paws at your tummy again, maybe it’s the lack of oxygen - he feels like he hasn’t taken a breath in ages - or the fact that all his blood is cleary in his swollen cock, hot and heavy.

He kisses you again, pants against your chest as he watches between your two bodies as one arm keeps him up, and the other drags the shard of glass below your belly button just hard enough to create a little cut. He just- just wants to be a little closer, you’ll let him, you’ll let him- he’s been so fucking mean to you and if he can just do this, he’ll make it up to you. Specks of blood well up that he swipes his thumb through to slide it into his mouth, get used to the taste of copper on his tongue. Sometimes he bites your lip hard enough to split it, and you tear up and whine, tangle your fingers in his hair.

He could cum on the spot when you yank like that, but the taste now isn’t enough. As he pushes the shard of glass into your skin harder, watching one layer make way for another, tougher tissue that still gives when he grids down a little- he waits for the moment where he feels bad, regrets and walks it all back- but the feeling doesn’t come. Your body looks so pretty like this, robbed of your innocence by his hands; and he doesn’t wanna cum yet, fuck. The adrenaline swimming in his head is pounding too hard to feel anything other than love for you, and the pulling, almost unbearable sensation of wanting to slide back into you. The blood pools around the hole as he slides along, hearing the skin squelch and snap, building a sweat along his neck and collar. Maybe you’d lick it up if you were awake.

The blood runs, covers his entire fist that’s wrapped tight around the glass, it creates little rivers that you’ll both be laying in soon. He coughs, before kissing you below your jaw, feeling the weak pulse beneath his lips— and righting himself to look at his work with a better angle, groaning. There’s both more blood and less than he expected, pooling in your belly button, all over your pretty pussy, his thighs and hands- his cock not yet. He drops the glass aside as he thumbs over the wound and sure enough- he’s cut through fat and muscle and sinew without too much struggle, because you’re soft all over.

He pushes the fleshy gash open more, thumbs over the clean cut he made with a strange sort of fascination before the hot, hot blood gets to be too much for his curiosity and he leans in to lick from your clit up, up, up until his tongue reaches the raised, tight skin— what has he done, what’s he doing, this, this isn’t — he can’t stand the heat that’s coming out of you for long, and it smells, but that isn’t what sticks with him right now. He’s never wanted to be closer. The gaping pouch of your belly’s drooling red for him. The head of his cock twitches when he feels the hot of your stomach coating him in blood, and coating you in turn. The cum from before’s all but washed away, but he’s sure he can give you another couple orgasms before he tuckers out.

He’s strung so high all of this feels like a dream, like his head is about to roll off of his neck; he pushes in with a garbled sort of sound that comes from deep, deep inside him. The skin doesn’t wanna give way at first, but he manages to push back hard enough before suddenly he’s inside, and it’s like nothing else. The pressure of a slab of skin taking him where it’s not meant to go— bleeding and whining out like this, it’s euphoric. He’s able to see his cock’s outline glide into you until it’s bulging your stomach, squelching and sucking him back in; feels like you’re taking him deeper than ever, letting him fuck his cock so deep he’ll hit your ribs soon. You’re so fucking beautiful, even like this, getting coated and letting him fuck it.

He doesn’t know what it’s like to feel like you’re dying, but the peace that washes him entirely clean might be close; he grinds his hips into you hard enough to rock your body under him as he laces your hands again. Both, this time, just chasing after an end that seems like it’ll never come.

He feels infinite. Your blood’s so hot it’s almost painful, and the tightness of the hole he carved into you is entirely different from your pussy, pushing back against him like you’re begging him to get out. He imagines you’d beg so pretty- but he’s inside you, finally inside and deeper than anyone’s ever been. He’s able to watch his cock blow up your belly and make it hollow when he pulls back, and God- he should feel worse than he does. He could swallow you whole if you’d let him. The feeling has him shuddering over you as he pants your name, makes your tits brush over his chest- and his balls smack against the smooth stretch of skin until he can’t feel his feet any longer.

Now he’s got you dirtied, he wants to ruin you too, leave you a mangled mess of flesh and swallow every last bit of you until he never forgets the taste. But that would require he’d stop fucking his hot cock into your bloody, little pouch, and that won’t happen. He’s panting, sweat running down his back from the effort, and his groin starts to feel a little raw too. He might’ve been going for hours by now, licking your mouth clean from his drool only to dirty you again. The head of his cock feels fucked raw inside you, and his thighs shake before his shoulders square over you.

Megumi speeds up his pace fucking into your guts -actually- until he clenches every muscle, is overcome again and reaches heaven inside you, spurting creamy white into the pouch he’s created for himself; “Fuck, fuck, fuckfuckfuckfuck,” his hand has to twist into an uncomfortable position to reach for your clit, but he wildly does it anyway— cramping up, until he’s collapsing on top of you and stilling inside. The stench of blood makes the entire room smell, as he thumbs over the side of your blood-coated thigh with one hand, and feels the shaking all the way up and down his spine. He pulls out so slowly, pumping the last bits of cum out with a throaty moan, before he slides off the table onto awfully shaky legs.

If he was any more lucid, he’d think twice before leaning by your side to kiss your eyes, your nose, your pouty lips as the tears that must’ve been building for a while run down your temple— and suppresses the need to actually eat you- for now, he rubs a softer hand over your exposed tummy, before folding the now blood-drenched fabric of your skirt back down to hide your puffy pussy, lest he be tempted again. He whispers his love into your ears, nuzzles at your hairline until the feeling comes back to his hands and feet and he tucks his spent cock back into his boxers, and goes about cleaning the mess he made of the floor.

It’s only when an uncomfortable scratchy sound comes that he notices the burning heat on his neck, the dried sweat painfully sticky— and straightens up beside you when you start to shake again. Immediately his worry is sky high. Even in the gross air of mixed blood and cum and the scent of sex soaking everything, his mind is just clear enough to hold your head when you thrash around a few times, and your chest rises wildly up and down. Then before his very eyes, the damage he’d done upon you slowly starts to stitch itself together, like weaving threads. Lacing you up until every bit of muscle, fat, and skin restores to it’s pristine glory before he ever touched you, with a little puff of cursed energy.

He bites his lip hard when the shaking stops, and your back lands back onto the metal with a soft clang. The noise is louder now it’s quiet in the room. Megumi waits for a bit longer before he brushes the hair from your face, and doesn't mind it that he’s leaving tracks. The darkness is filled with his tense breathing, and then — every sound at once. Your eyes shoot open with a cry, sobbing out like a baby for a few painful seconds. But then spot him thumbing your tears away devoted like he is -though he won’t admit it to you, and you let out a noise of pure relief.

It’s almost poetic, when you crash back into his arms and this time, he lets your arms wind around his waist.

All Rights Reserved © IWAASFAIRY 2023. Works are exclusive to this Tumblr.