#also i apologize for the length. i wanted to touch his forehead so badly and it got out of hand. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mercurygguk · 3 years

Text

the first year | jjk (m)

genre; parents au + established relationship au

pairing; dad!jungkook x fem reader

✎ summary; in which jungkook learns that his new life as a parent can be difficult at times and that it takes a great amount of patience, but even with all that, jungkook wouldn’t trade it for anything.

warnings; my weak attempt at being funny, jungkook as a dad, SMUT; sexual activities, fingering, swearing, light dirty talk, actual sex, jungkook being a simp for his baby mama

word count; 4,121

➵ READ PART 1 HERE

a/n; here’s a part 2 of my dad!jungkook fic - hope you like it, enjoy!! also, please feel free to give some feedback <3 didn’t proof read at all, ignore any possible typos thx

Parenting is anything but easy.

That is something Jungkook has learned after the first few months of being a dad. His daughter is usually very easy to handle, very peaceful at most times and over all a very happy baby. However, she likes to wake him up in the middle of the night with loud cries. At this point Jungkook can’t even remember what it feels like to get 8 hours of sleep at night.

Tonight seems to be another one of those nights. Her cries are nothing but irritation, not satisfied with the lack of attention. Jungkook has learned the differences in her cries from the way they sound and whether there are tears or not. Sometimes she’s only doing it just to get some attention when all she really has to do is sleep. She must have inherited her mother’s temper and need for attention.

A heavy sigh falls from Jungkook’s lips, eyes still closed as he waits a few moments, hoping she’ll fall back to sleep without him having to get up and go to her room. Beside him, his girlfriend and the mother of his daughter is stirring, turning over to face Jungkook’s back. Scooting closer, you reach out to touch his back, your palm running up and down.

“I’ll get her,” you softly tell him, speaking into the darkness before blindlessly pressing a kiss to the skin of his back. Before you can get out of bed, Jungkook is getting up. You watch as he drags his feet out of the bedroom and down the small hallway to where his daughter is currently having a midnight crying fit. A small smile sneaks its way onto your lips, knowing he doesn’t mind getting her in the middle of the night despite how tired he sounds and looks.

There’s nothing in the world he wouldn’t do for her.

Jungkook carefully opens the door, peeking his head inside to see his 7-month-old daughter standing up in her crib, her hands tightly gripping the edge to hold herself up. He switches on the night lamp on her dresser, lighting up the room in a warm glow. Her big brown eyes with long lashes looks at him, no tears in sight, just a small mischievous grin on her face because he’s there to check on her again. The way she has him wrapped around her tiny pinky finger is beyond him.

“You little tease,” he coos with a smile as he steps closer to the crib, immediately picking her up when she reaches for him. Once she’s in his arms, she cuddles closer to him, head neatly tucked into the crook of his neck. Jungkook sighs deeply in content, running his hand up and down her back as he makes his way out of her room and back to you in the bedroom. You’re still awake when he appears in the doorway, a knowing smirk on your face as he moves closer to the bed. You reach out while pouting, wanting your baby girl in your arms. She’s already half asleep again as Jungkook hands her over before climbing into bed.

Jungkook watches with pure adoration in his eyes as the two most important girls in his life are cuddling up against him. You glance up at him, noticing the small smile he always seems to sport whenever you catch him looking at you and your daughter. She’s fully asleep now, completely unaware of the way her parents are watching her with proudness in their eyes and hearts.

“We got lucky, huh?” You softly say.

Nodding, Jungkook intertwines your free hand with his.

“We really did.”

“You know what we should?”

You turn to look at Jungkook, eyebrows raised in question. He looks out of the window in the living room, watching the skyline and tapping his chin as if he’s in deep thought. You wait patiently until he looks your way.

“We should throw a party for Areum’s 1st birthday,” he says. You give him a look only to receive one back.

You scoff lightly, “you don’t think I haven’t thought of that?”

Jungkook shrugs. “Well, you never mentioned it, so how should I know?”

Pretending to be offended, you place a hand on your chest and let out another scoff. Jungkook chuckles at your silliness, scooting closer before pulling you onto his lap. You smile at him, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Of course, we’re throwing her a party. It’s her first one after all.”

Smiling, Jungkook rubs his palms up and down your thighs. Soon the smile falls from his lips. You frown as you watch it happen, his eyes falling to look at anything but your face. You know what he’s thinking, he’s mentioned it before.

“I can’t believe she’s already a year old soon,” he mumbled. You smile softly, reaching up to run a hand through his hair to remove it from his face. He looks at you again, a sad smile on his face now. “She’s growing so fast, it terrifies me.”

“Oh, I know, baby,” you coo, “but she can’t stay tiny forever, you know that.”

He sighs deeply. “Yeah, I know. I just wish I could slow down time sometimes.”

Your heart aches watching him being this sad over something so inevitable. He loves her so much and he’ll do anything to protect her, go to great lengths to get her whatever she needs. It warms your heart, makes you wonder if you ever could’ve found someone more perfect than him if you didn’t have him?

“She’ll always need you, Jungkook. Even when she’ll say she doesn’t.”

“Areum, sweetheart, no- watch out!”

You watch with wide, horrified eyes as your daughter climbs onto the couch and stands up, wobbling on her very unstable legs. You’re not quick enough to get up and catch her before she tumbles to the ground, her head thankfully not hitting the floor as hard as it could’ve. A loud cry sounds throughout the living room, tears welling up in her eyes as you pick her up.

You examine her for any injuries while cradling her to you. When you don’t see any, you press a kiss on the top of her head. “Oh sweetie, I’m sorry, it’s okay,” you coo, holding her close as she cries it out.

As she sniffles against your shirt, a thousand thoughts run through your mind. Firstly, Jungkook must never know this happened. Secondly, you feel like the worst mother ever, the way you just let her climb up there without support and basically just watching her fall down and almost hit her head very badly.

“Oh, God,” you breathe out, letting out a quiet cry of panic.

The front door opens, your boyfriend’s humming sounding throughout the apartment. You listen as he kicks off his shoes and unzips his jacket. You quickly check Areum’s face for visible tears, hurriedly drying off the remnants with your sleeve. You press a quick kiss to the tip of her nose, flashing her a smile before picking up a toy, handing it to her and pretending her fall didn’t just happen minutes ago.

“Hey babe,” Jungkook appears in the living room, smiling widely at the two of you. He’s quick to come closer, reaching out for Areum and picking her up. He smooches her cheeks with a smile, but it’s without her usual reaction of laughter. You watch, waiting until it hits him. His smile falters, glancing at you whose face is grimacing in apology already.

The red spots from tears on her small, soft cheeks is what gives it away. That and how quiet she is when usually she’s laughing hysterically when Jungkook smooches her.

“Has she been crying? And is that a bump on her forehead?” He asks, turning to look at you.

“Yeah...” you trail off, wincing as your boyfriend stares you down in suspicion, “we might’ve had a small accident-”

“____!” Jungkook exclaims, horrified as he sits down on the couch with Areum in his lap. He examines her like you did when the fall happened, worry written all over his face. You sigh deeply, getting up from the floor to take a seat beside him. “How did this happen? Did you not watch her?”

“I did!” You quickly defend yourself, “she was crawling onto the couch and before I knew it she was falling down head first into the rug!”

Jungkook exhales, looking back at Areum who’s playing with the thin silver chain around his neck. The bump on her forehead doesn’t look too bad. “I guess the rug took most of the fall, the bump isn’t that big.”

“Oh God, I’m the worst mom ever!” You cry out at the sight of the small bump on your daughter’s head, wrapping yourself around Jungkook’s arm, your face hidden in his shoulder. Jungkook can’t help but roll his eyes. You always have to be so dramatic, thinking the worst about yourself when this could’ve happened to any parent.

“____,” he calls out, catching your attention. You sniffle lightly, lifting your head to look up at him. He smiles at you. “You’re not the worst mom ever, okay? You’re the best and this minor accident doesn’t define your entire role as a mother. She’s okay, look.”

You look at your daughter, her attention still focused on the silver chain, although now her small mouth is curved into a small smile. You smile at her, Jungkook does too. “It’s just a tiny bump,” he tells you, pausing before saying: “there will probably be much worse in the future.”

Gasping, you slap his upper arm causing Areum to let out that precious baby laugh. “Don’t jinx it!”

Jungkook is in a good mood, a pep in his step as he makes his way up to yours and his apartment, fully aware that you’re probably already cooking a delicious meal and making everything ready for your ‘date night’. The drive back from his parents’ place, where he just dropped off Areum, was filled with loud music that made him even more excited for finally having some time with you alone after God knows how long.

Once he steps through the front door, a delicious aroma of his favorite dish hits his nostrils causing him to let out a deep sigh of content. He quickly slips off his shoes and jacket before making his way to the kitchen. Feel-good songs are playing on the speaker and you’re moving around while preparing the food, singing along and just enjoying yourself. You’re not aware of Jungkook standing behind you, a big grin on his face.

Deciding to surprise you, he sneaks up behind you and snakes his arms around your waist, chin resting on your shoulder. You jump lightly in his embrace, turning your head slightly to see that it is in fact the love of your life who’s hugging you.

“Hi,” you softly say, smiling when he presses his lips to your cheek in a soft kiss.

“Mhm,” he hums in response, “it smells delicious, baby.”

“Good for you that your favorite dish is the one I make the best,” you smirk, flipping the steaks on the pan. Jungkook chuckles before agreeing with you. You turn the heat down before turning around in his arms, coming face to face with him. Without another thought he leans in and steals a quick peck. He grins at you when he pulls back to look at you again. “Go get cleaned up,” you tell him, pushing him away from you.

“I love you,” he smiles sweetly as he backs away and heads towards the bedroom. You watch with a lovesick smile, your eyes automatically landing on his butt because it’s right there and you can’t help yourself. Something tells you, you won't finish dinner at the table, but in bed instead.

Sure enough, you stayed at the table until you finished the main dish. You had prepared dessert as well but Jungkook is in the mood for another kind of dessert – that’s what he had said when he got up from his seat before pulling you from yours and tugging you towards the bedroom. Screw the ice cream, you thought to yourself and allowed Jungkook to guide you to the bed.

Ever since Areum was born you’ve had few chances of being alone with Jungkook, enjoying his company and the love he always stores deep inside of him until he feels like showering you in it.

It’s slow but hurried, it’s passionate and yet filled with desperation, it’s you and him together in your own bubble. Your eyes close shut as Jungkook traces your skin with his lips, his hands running over and feeling your curves and every dip in your body. His lips brush across the faint stretch marks on your stomach, his hands cupping your breasts softly yet firmly.

“God, you’re the most beautiful mama to ever exist,” Jungkook groans as he hovers over you, looking you up and down, noticing every single detail of your body and skin. You smile, a faint blush covering your cheeks as he dips down to kiss you softly. His tongue meets yours halfway, a soft moan falling from your mouth and into his. He swallows the whimpers you let out as he reaches down, fingers running between your lower lips, the wetness there evident to him.

“Jungkook,” you sigh in pleasure against his lips as he rolls your clit with his thumb, “more, please.”

He smirks softly, lips moving from your lips to your cheeks and further down to the top of your breasts, peppering kisses all over you. All your senses are on fire, the feeling of his lips, his fingers, his body against yours, the growing erection against your leg. Your hand reaches down to rub against it through his boxers, the only piece of clothing separating his cock from your clenching hole. You’re whimpering against him as the pressure from his thumb on your clit is edging you closer to your release.

“J-jungkook, please, I need you,” you gasp, you're moving automatically against his fingers causing more friction, “n-need you so bad.”

“That desperate for my cock, huh baby?” He teases, smoothly sinking his fingers inside of you, “you want me to finish you off now or would you like to cum all over my cock?”

You moan at his words, back arching up against him. “Your cock, please, wanna cum all over it.”

A grunt leaves Jungkook as he imagines it before him. It doesn’t take long for him to strip off his boxers, throwing them onto the floor beside the bed. You anticipate the stretch, already clenching around nothing as Jungkook lines himself up with your entrance. You reach for his hand just as he starts pushing past your walls, stretching you open so deliciously in a way you’ll never be able to handle without gasping in pure pleasure. Jungkook intertwines his hand with yours as he keeps it pressed against the mattress right beside your head.

He bottoms out, filling you to the brim. He breathes out heavily, his breathing ragged as he lets you adjust to his impressive width and length. “Fuck, I’ll never get tired of seeing you like this,” he rasps out as he pulls out and pushes back in, watching the way your eyes roll back in pleasure, “my pretty baby all fucked out.”

It blows your mind how he always manages to make it so dirty yet soft. You’re already a mess beneath him and he’s barely begun. “Oh god, Jungkook-”

A forceful push of his hips has you gasping, a high pitched moan tumbling from your lips. His hips connect with yours in a rhythm, skin against skin, the lewd sounds of your wetness and the feeling of Jungkook thrusting and grinding into you. His lips are back against your skin, your collarbones earning kisses and small bites, your free hand running from his lower back and up his spine to the hair in his neck. You tug at it, earning a grunt from Jungkook. Lifting his head, he looks you in the eye, his lips slightly parted as he works you both to your highs.

His eyes are soft while his actions are far from it, the look he’s giving you tells you everything he doesn’t say out loud. “Oh my god, I’m gonna- fuck,” you gasp, tightening your hold on his hand, giving his hand a squeeze.

“Me too, baby, me too,” Jungkook moans, leaning down to press his lips to yours, kissing you like it would be the last. He swallows your whimpers, your moans and gasps as your orgasm hits you hard. Jungkook follows you, his orgasm hitting him as you clench around him. He stills inside of you, moaning deeply at the feeling of you clenching and milking him for every drip of cum. He’s panting as he comes down, his face hidden in the crook of your neck. Yours and his breathing is the only thing you can hear in the room as you both try to collect yourselves. Your fingers are caressing his scalp as he stays in your arms, letting his weight rest upon you. Silence engulfs you and him, Jungkook’s breathing clashing against your neck, your fingers dancing across the skin on his back. You can feel his cum trickling out of you, but you don’t really care at this point, just enjoying the moment and worrying later about the mess that is the sheets.

Jungkook’s thoughts are running a hundred miles per hour as he lays in silence with you close against him. His thoughts shift from the first time he met you to when he first kissed you to the way you told him you loved him before he told you. Then his thoughts wander on to his daughter, the tiny person he created with you just from the love between the two of you. There are so many memories with you, moments and life events he shares with you. An idea pops into his mind, it’s something he has been thinking about for a long time, he just didn’t find the right time yet. He wants to add another meaningful celebration of life and love to the memories he shares with you.

He wants to marry you.

Jungkook already asked for your parents’ approval. They told him yes in an instant, reminding him that he has a child with you and that the two of you are already past asking for approval. That thought alone makes Jungkook chuckle softly. He really did things with you in a messy order. First he slept with you then he dated you. Then he asked you to be his girlfriend and then after a few years he accidentally got you pregnant and now he’s thinking about proposing to you.

“What?” You ask, smiling softly as you hear Jungkook chuckle.

He rolls over, his back hitting the mattress and pulling you with him to lay halfway on top of him. He smiles at you, his fingers reaching out to tuck strands of your hair behind your ears.

“It just hit me how we’ve done things in a really random order,” he tells you. Your eyebrows pull together in confusion at his words. “First we slept together and then we started dating after that, then I asked you to be my girlfriend,” he’s grinning from ear to ear as you listen and he’s talking, reminiscing the years he’s spent with you. “I got you pregnant by accident and now we’re parents and I just…”

He falls silent, his smile faltering as he looks you in the eyes. You’re looking at him with those eyes that always hold so much love for him and Areum too. Beautiful eyes that can calm him at any given time, tell him everything’s gonna be alright without you saying anything. Jungkook would do anything to look into those eyes for the rest of his life. He could just ask you, right now in this very moment. It doesn’t have to be a candlelit dinner or with rose petals. What matters is you and him together in an intimate moment where all feelings lay in front of you, bared for the both of you to see.

“Marry me.”

You freeze, your fingertips that had returned to running over his skin freeze in their movement. Jungkook can tell your eyes are watering. You open your mouth to speak, a small voice coming out as you say: “w-what?”

Jungkook nods, “you heard me, baby,” he softly says.

“I’m-” You begin but cut yourself off. Jungkook watches as a wide smile spreads across your face, the first few tears falling from your eyes and running down your cheeks. He reaches out to wipe them away, smiling softly himself. “Oh my god,” you cry.

“So, is that a yes?”

Nodding, you crawl up to wrap your arms around him in a tight hug, pressing your lips to his in a kiss. “Of course, it is! It’s a million times yes!” You say against his lips, pulling away slightly to rest your forehead against his. “I love you so much, Jungkook.”

“I love you the most, baby.”

Areum is 1 year old today.

She’s 1 year old and Jungkook isn’t sure how to handle it. His baby girl is growing up so fast and it both terrifies and amazes him. You seem to handle it pretty well, but Jungkook has a feeling you’re just very good at hiding it. There’s no way you’re not emotional about the fact that the baby you carried around for 9 months is already 1 year old.

“How’s my favorite granddaughter?” Jungkook’s mother coos as she walks right past her son and towards Areum who’s sitting on the rug in the living room, surrounded by her toys. Jungkook watches in disbelief how his mother doesn’t even give him a moment of attention, clearly only here to visit her grandchild.

“Mom, she’s your only granddaughter,” Jungkook deadpans before turning back to greet his father, “hey dad.”

Jungkook’s father gives him a tight hug before moving on to give you an even tighter hug. “How are you, ____?” He asks, smiling as he pulls away to look at you.

You smile in return. “I’m good! And you?”

“Same as always,” he shrugs, “not much happens when you reach a certain age.”

You chuckle at that, telling him to go say hi to his granddaughter. You watch as Areum greets his grandfather with a big grin, reaching out for him like she does with everyone she loves. You smile at the scenario in front of you, how Areum is the center of attention for all of her four grandparents. Your parents had arrived earlier than Jungkook’s, having kept Areum entertained for the past hour or so.

“Should we tell them today?” Jungkook asks as you join him in the kitchen, his voice low in case his mom should suddenly appear behind him. “You know, about that,” he points to the ring on your finger.

Smiling at him, you lean up and kiss him quickly on the lips. “Sure,” you agree with him, making him smile, “but remember it’s Areum’s day today. So we’ll just mention it and then move on with her birthday party.”

Jungkook nods at that. “Of course. Nothing is bigger than her 1st birthday-” he pauses at that, the fact hitting him once again. He then turns to you, giving you a confused look, “how are you not emotional about it at all? I literally cried when I gave her a bath last night.”

A laugh emits from your lips. “You cried? Because it’s your daughter's 1st birthday?”

Offended by how you’re finding his devastation humorous, Jungkook scoffs. “Yeah, as a matter of fact, I did.”

You’re smiling at him in adoration as you wrap your arms around his waist, hugging him tightly. Jungkook hugs you back, pressing his lips to your temple. Areum’s laughter flows through the apartment causing the two of you to laugh yourselves. It’s like sweet music to your ears when Areum has a fit of giggles.

“I adore her so much, ____,” Jungkook suddenly says as he watches from the kitchen, watching how Areum is surrounded by her grandparents, having the best 1st birthday. You’re constantly smiling, you have been ever since Areum was born. The joy she brought with her when she came into the world is unlimited and you feel like you’re on top of the world for creating such a happy, lively small human being.

“I know, baby,” you tighten your arms around him, giving him a squeeze, “she’s the best thing that’s happened to us.”

2K notes · View notes

ellsbclls · 3 years

Note

you write hurt/comfort so beautifully, it makes me want to have tom comfort me like that ): do u think you could write something where he's taking care of you after a long day at work?? and if it's a little nsfw i wouldn't mind but u dont have to do anything ur not comfortable with. again L O V E ur work!!

thank you so much 🥺 i guess i just try to portray a type of love i think everyone deserves! but also thank you for giving me this idea because my mind went rampant. i also don’t know why the reader is a musician, but just roll with it i guess idk what happened there???

i hope this tickles your fancy! nsfw, so extended warnings will be under the cut! please do not interact if you're a minor!!

extended warnings: cue fingering, and some messy, needy sex in the bathtub 🛁✨

The steam rising from the bathtub makes light work of your weary muscles, menthol vapors kissing up your spine, soothing the knots scattered across the length of your back. You were in dire need of this, after the plight of a day you’d endured. A couple of hours in the studio had quickly spiraled into a six hour-session, with nothing to show for it but a lousy sixteen measures of brass ensembles — and by the good grace of your talent and patience, the artist has requested you drop in for their session again.

The thought makes you want to drown.

Instead, you opt to curl into yourself, softly pressing your cheek into your knee, watching the spindles of warmth waft up from your well earned bubble bath. In retrospect, the weight of your day didn’t fall solely on this new client — if you’re being honest, they actually had a lot of potential. You wouldn’t mind having your name tethered to a couple of their hits — but Tom had just returned home from a three month long shoot, and you’ve only been graced the luxury of his presence for less than 24 hours. Any time that isn’t being spent with him feels blasphemous, but since he has yet to return from his unknown whereabouts, you seized the opportunity to flush out as much irritability as possible before he returned.

You didn’t know just how tired you were until you were woken up.

A half an hour passes before you’re tousled from your dreamless slumber by a docile touch, familiar digits scaling the curve of your spine before they take a detour at the nape of your neck, carefully parting stray strands of hair to either side of your frame.

“Tom?” You hum, dulcet tones wafting through the steam akin to a dream as it ebbs from the rim of your subconscious.

“Yes, darling?” He muses, entranced by the frothy remnants of your bath soak as he dips his fingertips into the water.

“I missed you today.” You melt into his touch, allowing your head to fall to the side and survey his attire. His hair is all tousled, chestnut locks sprouting from the bottom of his backwards strewn baseball cap, and those honey-dipped hues you adore so much are creased with concern. You want nothing more than to soothe them away with the pad of your thumb, and so you indulge yourself, reaching over the edge of the tub as you continue to ramble. “I started the day already praying for it to be over with, and somehow, every single inconvenience fathomable decided to fall onto my lap. I mean — who the fuck needs seven different french horn tracks in an overture? A real band barely needs one.” Tom’s nodding along to your ramblings, but you both know that he doesn’t fully under the lengths of your frustration — just as you’ll never truly understand the inner workings of his own career. “The only thing keeping me together was the thought of coming home to you.”

“I’m so sorry, my love,” He coos, and continues to caress your back, working out all of the knots that the steam couldn’t relieve. “If it’s any consolation, I was only running late because I had to stop and buy some pancetta on the way home.”

“Don’t apologize. I assumed you would be back since all your stuff is still here.” You tease, mirroring his bemused smile, letting his world seep into your slowly booting brain. “Pancetta…” Not many people knew this, not even Tom before his first attempt, but the boy could whip up a mean bowl of pasta. You remember floundering across the bed the night before, identical to a little kid throwing a tantrum, moaning over just how badly you were craving carbonara. Silly of you to think that he’d take your melodramatic request in stride. “Are you-“

His enamored gaze is answer enough, but he pairs it with a chaste kiss to your forehead that has you nuzzling into his touch. “Only the best for my lil’ lady.”

You show a mere fraction of your appreciation with a swift, flurry of kisses over his cheekbones, pulling him closer by the downy bundles of his hoodie. Lovedrunk giggles and contented sighs bounce off the tiles before you’re both submerged in a comfortable silence, one that leaves the both of you free to shamelessly examine the other, one clad in their comfy, weatherworn disguise while the other dawns nothing but an enchanted smile. Even with the disparity between your attire, you both end up with flushed cheeks and dopey grins.

Hours, days, years seem to press on until you break the silence with a silly question, one that you ask in hopes of hearing his gentle, candied voice once more — or even better, his laugh. “What would you do if I was as big as a thumbtack? Would you still love me?” You query, a childlike sense of wonderment tinting your sugar-coated sigh.

He takes a second to ponder your questions, taking it into far more consideration than you had in bringing it to fruition. You can’t stifle the tiny puff of air that leaves your lips, the semblance of a chuckle, and Tom, with his wild brow and theatrical ways, whips his head in your direction, sending you a cautionary glare. “I suppose I would…” He starts, only to tap his finger against his bottom lip, drawing the suspense to its boiling point by the time you shove his forearm. “But then again, it doesn’t matter what size you are, there’s no limit to how much I love you.”

“Hmm,” you manage to vocalize. Your heart is now a star, an incandescent ball of fire caged beneath your ribs, and if he hasn’t gathered it by now, then he can bask in the warmth of your smile and know that for him, for him it is the sun.

You have to admit that you got ahead of yourself. One moment, you were binding your lips in a bruising, indulgent union, urging him to bask in the lovelorn rays of light he summoned, but only managing to pull him into the bathtub, fully clothed and unsuspecting. What was once your lukewarm oasis is suddenly a swirling cauldron of spearmint, teatree, and now unmistakable notes of him, sloshing against the edge of the tub as his frame struggles against the latent tide. There’s bound to be one hell of a mess waiting on the bathroom floor, but now that he’s settled in your grasp, you see no reason to fret just yet.

“Y/N.” His voice is deadpan, which can mean one of two things — he’s either overwhelmed with joy, or exhibiting a great deal of restraint in not drowning you right then and there. You choose to cancel out the latter, and offer the best attempt at innocence your babydoll eyes could muster, peering at him through your lashes with a teeth-rotting gleam.

“What?” You ask simply. His eye starts to twitch, and you only double down on your facade. “I just wanted to be closer to you.” Wading through the newly shallow body of water, half of its contents now dispersed across the tile floor, you make light work of his soggy hoodie, sloughing it over his head as he grumbles beneath it, giggling when it catches against that razor-sharp jawline of his.

“Well, you are very close now.” You notice how his voice drops down an octave, and you’re embarrassed to admit just how quickly the coil in your stomach tightens at the sound of it, how it already aches to be pulled taut.

Tom seems unsuspecting enough when he captures your lips once again, his brims as delicate as baby’s breath against your own, tentative as they glide in a sultry dance. He doesn’t need to coax a confession out of you, the truth is already there, nestled in your urgent, needy pressure, in the whimpers threatening to spill into his lips. He’ll indulge in this little game for a moment longer — where you pretend that you aren’t desperate for his touch, and he pretends that he isn’t just as desperate to provide it — but once you fumble into his lap, clumsily grasping for more, and more, and even more of him, his resolve begins to crumble.

“I need you.” you whisper into the hollow of his mouth, golden-tongued and virtually earnest, coaxing a trembling sigh from the back of his throat.

He hums back, contented, basking in the intoxicating warmth of your silhouette, tracing the curve of your breasts with his knuckles. “Long day, my love?”

“Mhmm,” You demonstrate your point with a wistful sigh, enveloping his great hands with your smaller ones, coating them in languid kisses until there was no skin left untouched.

You’re just too fucking cute, he muses. He can never say no to you, not even in jest.

Two of his slender digits roam the valley of your stomach, knuckles ghosting over your navel in their listless descent before they venture between your thighs, surveying just how badly you really need him. He dips his middle finger between your folds, tender and slick with your arousal, and emits a husky groan as he traces a steady line between your entrance and the spot just below your clit, ghosting your little bundle of nerves with each taunting caress. “You’re already soaked, my love. This all for me?” He coos, nudging your jaw with the tip of his nose, pressing a wet, open mouthed kiss against the column of your neck.

“All for you,” You sigh, digging your nails into the broad planes of his shoulder. “Please, Tom, please touch me.”

He finally spares you, thumb sloppily circling your clit as he plunges two digits into your opening, welcoming the lithe intrusion with a warm, velvety embrace. You slump into his embrace, nipples straining hard against the soaked fabric of his t-shirt, and raggedly whimper as he starts to work you open. The reminder of your nude form plastered against his clothes, albeit soaking wet, summons another pool of wetness to your core. You’re flooded with thoughts of delectable anguish — of denim kissing your hips, dragging against your bundle of nerves, as he ravages your bare little cunt, proving that you’re so desperate for his cock that you can barely wait for him to undress.

“Is this all you needed, baby? My fingers? You wanted me to stretch this pretty little cunt out?” He can’t stop the filthy words tumbling from his lips, especially not when your tiny mewls of pleasure are flooding his ears — you’re just so soft and pliant under his touch, so eager to be filled to the brim, it’s intoxicating to know that you’ll take anything he has to offer you. “I’ve got you, baby. I’m gonna give you everything you need. Gonna have you spilling all over my fingers and then — fuck! — then i’m gonna fill you up with my cock. How does that sound?

“Y-yeah,” You’re rutting against his palm at this point, grinding down to meet each thrust, to feel impossibly closer, fuller, ambling toward an orgasm that is already barreling toward you. As he finds a new angle, the pads of his fingers nudge against your g-spot, and the heel of his hand careens over your clit with such a delicious pressure that your thighs begin to quake. “‘M so close.” You whine, prompting him to punctuate each thrust with a curl of his fingers, dragging your orgasm from the pit of your stomach.

“Then let go, baby. Let go for me.” You need no further persuasion, your eyes squeezing shut as you teeter off the edge, with nothing but a raspy, desperate string of obscenities, clawing at the slope of his shoulders, and bathing his hand in sultry waves of nectar as it spills from your weepy little hole. His fingers are trapped between your fluttering walls, working you through your climax with nimble, tentative thrusts, stretching each wave of pleasure out until you’re trembling over little ripples.

“That’s it, that’s my girl.” You feel so small beneath his gaze, teeming with endless pools of adoration, like you’re a freshwater clearing and he’s parched. It nearly distracts you from his fingers as they slip from your opening, but each receding wave of bliss is tethered to him, so you groan at the loss of contact. Your walls flutter hopelessly around nothing, chasing the delicious stretch of his digits in their absence, but you’re instantly qualmed by the sound of his zipper being pulled down, no doubt freeing himself from the waterlogged confines of his jeans.

“Can I?” You sink your hands into what little water still remains in the tub, hooking your fingers through the belt loops of his jeans, but he swats your shaky hands away, adamantly shaking his head as a small frown of confusion forms between your brows. “You don’t wanna take ‘em off?”

“This is about you, my love.” He whispers, his free hand smoothing over the small of your back, stroking the patch of dew-ridden skin with his thumb. “And right now, all I wanna do is keep my promise.”

“You’re so good to me,” You whisper just above his lips, leaning back into his touch, peering between your bodies to survey his ministrations. You’re still a bit dazed from your first, earth-shattering orgasm, but the prospect of another has you buzzing with excitement, and Tom knows that look well enough to speed up his course of action.

Pearly veneers sink into the swell of your bottom lip at the mere sight — his cock is beyond compare. Even as its impatiently pulled through the opening of his jeans, it’s put on a mouth-watering display as he leisurely pumps himself, smearing tiny pearls of precum across his flushed, leaky tip with each upstroke. He’s far too enticing, far too pretty with his rosy cheeked, droopy-eyed charm, to resist, and you’re quick to replace his hand with your own, curling your fingers around the base and mimicking a couple teasing pumps before guiding him to your entrance.

Tom spreads his legs a little wider to accommodate you, the sensation of wet denim rubbing against your thighs, knocking your legs farther apart, causes a soft whimper to fall from your lips. It doesn’t take long for you to align the head of his cock with your entrance, teasing him with a couple of lascivious drags through your folds before you sink onto his length, reigniting the remnants of your last orgasm as inch after delicious inch prods your tender walls apart. By the time he bottoms out, you’re nothing but a trembling pile of limbs, and his lips seek out your own just to muffle your staggered breaths with a burning kiss.

You allow yourself a couple of seconds to adjust — no matter how or which way you take him, he still pushes up every crevice of your insides, demanding every square inch of your velvety heat. A wild flurry of crimson blossoms across the high planes of your cheeks as Tom nuzzles his forehead against your own, brushing his nose against yours, coaxing a melodious string of giggles from your chest while you scrunch up your nose. He presses a chaste kiss to the corner of your lips and smiles against the spot. “You look so pretty like this, my love. With that gorgeous smile of yours, and that pretty little pussy squeezing my cock.” You feel like you’ve got whiplash, trying to come to terms with how obscene he can be under such tender movements. “Just wanna turn you over and bury myself inside. See how tight you feel when you’re folded in half.” His hands reach down to rub gentle, circular motions into the small of your back, and you can’t help but pulse around him at the juxtaposition.

Once the uncomfortable stretch of his girth melts into pleasure, you finally start to work yourself over his length, and you swear you can feel every gorgeous ridge and vein of his cock as you rise up to the tip, only to plunge back down with a impish yelp, setting a clumsy, needy pace that certainly gets the job done. You don’t really find your rhythm until Tom helps you out, sinking his fingers into the supple curve of your ass, orchestrating a hard, punishing pace as he drives up into your sopping cunt, meeting you in the middle with each thrust.

All at once, the bathroom is washed in a crude symphony, the combination of your heavy panting and slapping skin intermingles with the shallow splash of water as it laps against the edge of the tub, punctuating the sinful drag of his length, and how the tip pounds against your furthest wall as you impale yourself onto him. You can feel another orgasm start to build, and since Tom has made it his solemn vow to not only study, but master, every little, scrumptious detail of your body, he senses it as well.

“You got another one for me?” He asks between labored pants. His own orgasm is starting to peak over the horizon, following in the blazing trail you’ve set, you can tell by the way a thin sheen of sweat starts to build against his hairline, and his brows almost meet in the middle, as if the feeling of your pussy pulsing around his cock is unfathomable. He uses the grip he has on your waist to take control, using one hand to scale up the breadth of your back, and as his palms leave a blistering trail up, up, up your sides, he pulls you flush against his chest, attempting to plant his feet against the floor of the bathtub,

He needs the leverage to piston his hips up into your own, to pound into your greedy hole at an unyielding pace — to keep his promise — and as you start to feel the tell tale edge of your climax cresting over your weary frame, you spoil his shoulder with sweeping, butterfly kisses and flood his mind with sweet, sweet nothings, luring him to the brink with the same dulcet tones you know drive him wild.

His hips stutter into your own, and before the words can even exit your lips, you’re dragged to the edge of bliss with a couple of rough, uncompromising thrusts that have you wildly spasming around his length. He joins you almost immediately, throbbing against your sensitive walls as he fills you to the brim, driving the mixture of your arousal further into you as he fucks you through your orgasm.

Once he pulls out, he’s quick to wrap you up in a soothing embrace, planting kisses over every acre of skin he can get his lips on, but you’re too focused on the trail of cum leaking down your thighs to really indulge him, curiosity getting the better of you as you gently weave your arm between your bodies and collect the wetness on your thighs. You swear you can feel the rumble of his chest once you pop your fingers into your mouth, humming around the sodden digits, making a spectacle out of the addicting elixir pooling on your tongue, but his glimmer of reinvigorated stamina is put to rest by the sight of your drowsy, half-lidded stare.

“Why don’t we get you dried off? Then I can start dinner.” He hums against your cheek, punctuating his suggestion with yet another chaste kiss. It’s genuinely like he can’t get enough, and neither can you as you sleepily nod.

“Will you wake me up when it’s ready?” You sigh, teetering on the edge of slumber once more.

“Of course, my love.”

#tom holland #tom holland blurb #tom holland x reader blurb #tom holland smut #tom holland x reader smut #something about this man fucking the bad day out of you 🥰#what a gentleman #ANOTHER 3K DOOZY??????#WHA T TH E FUCK???#mine*

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ratmonky · 3 years

Text

Feigned Innocence

Word Count: 15.4K

Warnings: dub-con, guro, cheating, toxic relationships, gaslighting, manipulation, stabbing, blood, smoking, drugging, choking, cigarette burns, obsession, dacryphilia, innocence kink

AO3 Link

It all felt like a dream. Everything was falling into place.

You were finally getting what you had wished for.

Happiness.

Gojo greeted you in front of the train station with open arms.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, trying to tease him.

He took a step forward to wrap his strong arms around you. “I came here to take you home and also because I missed you.”

“You’re too kind,” you whispered as you pressed your face against his chest while blushing.

Swoosh.

The floor under you changed texture. From tile to hardwood.

When you broke the hug, you saw that you were in his house.

You peered up at him, your eyes met his.

In that small moment of silence, the two of you moved gracefully towards each other. Gojo leaned down and you got up on your tiptoes to kiss him.

The happiest moments of your life had just begun.

~~~

“Can you write the report I left in the office for me? Something came up, I’m gonna go out with a friend and that report needs to be done before tomorrow,” he asked after pressing a chaste kiss against your hair.

“Yes!” Quickly lifting your gaze up to him, you puckered your lips, begging to be kissed and praised.

With a chuckle, he leaned down to give you a short kiss on the lips. “I’ll be back later but I may want to eat at home and-”

“I’ll cook your favorite!” you chirped while watching him put on his shirt.

“You’re the best!” Leaning down, he kissed you on your forehead, “My adorable little girlfriend.”

“Don’t call me that!” you said, blushing.

“What should I call you then?” He raised a brow, smiling. He leaned closer, his hot breath fanning over your lips. “Should I call you my lover?”

You nodded rapidly, cheeks flushing harder. “Y-yes!”

“Ahh, you’re so cute I wanna eat you up.” He pressed another kiss on your lips, this time moving them against yours for a brief moment, promising to give you an actual taste soon. “But I have to leave now, so be good, okay?”

“Don’t stay out too late,” you reminded when he suddenly pulled himself back.

He waved a hand as if to say ‘okay’ while he was getting ready to teleport.

“I love you!” It was you, chanting after him.

Gojo vanished from the bedroom with a grin.

You were the happiest person alive.

~~~

He didn’t come home that night and you ate cold, hard rice after seven hours of waiting.

~~~

“Would you rather wear a cotton shirt or this silk one?”

“Cotton,” he said, hastily. “Black.”

You dug through the closet while he waited patiently on the newly made bed, glancing around the room. Eventually, you found a black cotton shirt just as he asked and gave it to him after putting the silk shirt on his dresser. He put the shirt next to him on the mattress and took your hands in his own to pull you closer towards him.

“I’m sorry for yesterday,” he apologized, looking you in the eye and smiling softly. “I got caught up in the moment and went to stay at my friend’s place.”

“You don’t need to apologize! Your friends and work always come first,” you beamed, sitting on his lap and wrapping your arms around his neck. “I will always wait for you at home.”

Gojo placed a hand on your cheek and gave you a small kiss on the lips. “You’re such a good girl.”

When he came out of the bedroom, fully dressed in his uniform, you were in the kitchen, making him coffee. As you walked to the kitchen table to serve him the coffee he offered you a gentle smile, his eyes becoming softer.

“Did you finish the report?” he asked.

“I did! I faxed it to the principal in your contacts like you told me to as soon as I finished it!” You sat across from him on the table with a coffee mug in your hand.

“Good girl,” he let out a sigh in relief before taking a long sip from his coffee.

A brief moment passed.

“You know,” he started, “thanks for all of this, (name).” He was staring down into his own reflection on the coffee. “I’m lucky to have you here and in my life.”

Your cheeks flushed a bit. “It’s the least I can do for you!” you said quickly. “I should be the one saying how grateful and lucky I am that you even chose me as your girlfriend. I love you so much! I’ll do my absolute best!”

He offered you a small smile, “That’s my girl.”

~~~

You two had met through a friend and clicked instantly. Having begged Utahime to introduce you to Gojo was something you weren’t that proud of. You wanted to meet him so badly. However, although everyone wanted to meet the famous Satoru Gojo, it was him who decided who was worth his time.

You being a total worshipper for the strongest Jujutsu Sorcerer alive was a good enough reason for him to consider meeting you.

He loved women who loved him blindly. He enjoyed being worshipped as if he was a God and you were ready to devote your entire existence to please him.

After only one dinner date he asked you to move in with him. You knew it was because he fell in love with you the same way you fell in love with him at first sight.

Satoru Gojo was madly in love with you.

~~~

“Promise you’ll only love me and me only.” You were begging as he was biting your neck, licking the sensitive skin before he pulled back to focus on his hands between your bodies.

His hands cupped the supple flesh of your chest, moving his hands down to let his thumbs run across the swell of your breasts with a grin.

“Promise me,” you pleaded. Your brows furrowed in worry, your lower lip was trembling. You wanted to be happy. Gojo knew your past. He had promised you to keep you safe, that was why you moved in with him, right? He loved you. He madly loved you. “You’ll only love me.” Love me. Love me only.

He dipped his head in a nod, sliding his hands further down your body following your curves until he could grab you by the hips.

Decidedly he wrapped a hand around the base of his cock, moving his fist slowly up and squeezing harder as he reached the tip. His shoulders shuddered at the sight of your innocent face, so scared and trusting of him. You were begging for his attention and love. He used his free hand to caress your cheek, you immediately leaned into his touch, desperate for him. “I like this expression on your face.”

Your eyes widened at his compliment. He loved your face.

Gojo pushed the tip of his cock inside you.

“It hurts…” you mewled, pushing him weakly on the chest with your tiny hands compared to his broad torso.

“It’s your first time, of course, it’ll hurt.” Gojo leaned forward to kiss you, discreetly proving that you could never push him away with your nonexistent strength. “Besides, it’s not even halfway in, you can endure it, right? For me?”

Nodding, you gingerly put your hands on his shoulders, pulling him closer and sliding your hand up into his soft hair seconds before he pressed his lips against yours. While you were clumsily kissing him back, you also tried holding back your whimpers as he surged his hips forward until the entirety of his length was inside your pussy.

A shaky moan escaped you and your nails dug into the skin of his back, you dragged them down as soon as he pulled his hips back to suddenly slam into you.

“Gojo,” you breathed into the kiss, mouth popping open in pain. Your arm wrapped around his neck to have something solid to hold onto.

“Satoru,” he corrected before kissing you once again, twirling your tongues around each other and picking a pace for himself.

Ah, yes, he was the closest person to you now. Your boyfriend and maybe even your husband-to-be. Ahh, so precious. The excitement and embarrassment made your cheeks flush.

He pulled back from the kiss and grinned at you, pulling out of you momentarily. “What’s my name?” He used a hand to move his cock between your folds and smear the blood of your innocence on your soaking wet cunt.

“S-Sator-ah!”

Gojo snapped his hips forward abruptly and chuckled as he pulled his hips back. “Sorry, I couldn’t hear what you said.”

You pouted, staring at him with your glossy eyes. “You’re being mean.”

“Am I?” He thrust into your slick heat slowly, almost agonizingly, stroking your insides in a way that made you question if you had been fingering yourself all wrong. Even when you were doing it on your own, you would imagine Satoru Gojo on top of you, the strongest, the most handsome Jujutsu Sorcerer alive. You had never thought he would be your first but oh, you were so lucky. You were under him and got to see his face as he took your innocence.

Romantic.

“I love you so much, Satoru.”

He stopped moving, his shoulders stiffened as the two of you met eyes. He looked a little surprised and at a loss of words.

Your nails dug and scratched at his shoulders as you whined at his abrupt silence. He was never quiet. Always running his mouth and teasing you.

“You love me too.” It was more of a question than a fact. You were desperate for him to say it. You needed to hear it. “You’ll only love me, right?”

“Yeah,” he replied and put a hand over your mouth. “Now, keep quiet so I can feel good. You want me to feel good, right?”

You nodded hesitantly.

Gojo smiled, it was that gorgeous smile he only flashed to you. It was only directed at you, made you feel like you were at the center of his world.

He let out a low hiss as your virgin walls tightened around his cock and caught him by surprise. His cock throbbed as he tried stealing a few more precious thrusts into your slick heat but he was already at his limit from you clenching around him.

So, he pushed his hips forward until the entire length of his cock was inside of you and the tip of his cock was pressing against your cervix. An audible growl-like moan left his gaped open mouth, seconds later you felt warmth filling your belly.

“I’m… I’m gonna take a shower,” he announced, pulling out of you and pushing your hands away from him.

“Should I join you?” you asked alluringly as you sat up on the bed. You were hoping to have your body pressed against his, feeling his warmth under the steaming hot water and all.

“No need.” He left the bedroom after putting on the previously discarded boxers he picked up from the floor.

A long moment passed before you managed to get up from the bed to change the sheets that were smeared with the blood of your innocence.

You grimaced slightly, you didn’t like the sight of blood.

~~~

The next morning, Gojo woke up to the pleasant smell of coffee and toast. He stared at the newly washed clothes you had put out for him and put them on.

He headed to the kitchen to find you flipping through a magazine. The coffee and toast were all ready on the table. There were only two plates set on the table which alarmed him slightly.

“You’re also gonna eat?” he asked.

You let out a little screech of surprise, jumping a bit into the air at the sudden noise. Closing the magazine, you turned around to face him. “Ah, good morning!”

He didn’t repeat his question.

“Did you say something?”

“No, nothing.”

“Can we eat quickly? I really need to leave for work before seven today.”

He hummed absently and took his place at the table. “Kyoto today?”

You shifted awkwardly on your feet while nodding. “It’s Friday so I’ll be helping Utahime with the third years if they get injured. They are all going out on field jobs today.”

“Isn’t it pointless?” he asked.

“What?”

“Do you even need to work when I’m here? I can do the hard work for you.” Gojo took a big bite from his toast.

You smiled and took your seat across from his. “So you just want me to wait for you at home?” Just like a wife waiting for her husband.

“Yeah, I want you to stay here and look pretty for me, I don’t wanna see you in your pajamas without any makeup all day.” He was taking a sip from his coffee before it got quiet and he realized he had made a mistake when he saw your expression.

“Sorry,” you murmured before getting up from your seat. “I was thinking of doing my makeup after breakfast but I’ll do it now.”

It was Gojo who should have apologized but he wouldn’t speak.

By the time you came back to the kitchen, Gojo was getting ready to leave. He took you to Kyoto by teleporting, telling you to call him when you were done so he could take you home moments before he vanished.

You didn’t know where his house was located, nobody knew. He took you there by teleporting only and you couldn’t leave the house without him. These were the rules.

Now, he wanted another thing.

Your phone vibrated in your purse and you dug around to find it. Once you managed to grab your phone to check the screen, there was a text message you knew he would send to you but not this soon.

‘Quit your job.’

Quitting was easy but having to answer Utahime’s invasive questions about the reason why you were leaving was more difficult than you would have liked it to be. You were able to dodge her specific questions with simple answers and finally get to say farewell before she could start asking you if it was related to a romantic relationship.

You hadn’t told her about Gojo. He wanted to keep everything a secret to keep you safe from any harm.

At the end of the day when you called Gojo to come to get you, unlike Utahime, he was happy that you quit. With a single peck on your lips, he made you forget about the empty feeling you had in your heart about leaving your work.

Meh, there were many different nurses in the jujutsu world, your absence wouldn’t make that much of a difference. They would definitely replace you with someone better and maybe even with someone who had cursed energy.

“Today was a loooooong day!” Gojo threw himself on the couch, “Can’t you cut up some fruit for meeee~?”

Obediently walking into the kitchen you cut some peaches on a plate and brought it to the living room, placing it on the coffee table. “Would you want to have something to drink as well?” you asked with a smile.

He had taken off his blindfold and he looked thoughtful but it was obvious that none of his thoughts were about what you had just asked him.

“You’re a weird girl, (name),” he said, taking a slice of peach into his mouth. “You quit your job because I told you to and you’re willing to stay here in this house without ever leaving.”

You sat on the couch next to him. “Well, it’s what you want,” you said as you reached towards the fruit plate to take a peach. “I’ll do anything you ask me to.” Parting your lips, you took the slice inside your mouth. You chewed slowly, savoring the taste. “I’ll do anything to please you.”

“Ahh, having a girlfriend is nice.” Gojo grabbed the fruit plate and eased back onto the couch’s cushions. “I’m so lucky~” He was busy eating the peaches as he turned to face you. “I thought you were just a shy little thing at first but you’re just passive, huh?”

“What does that suppose to mean?” you asked, leaning towards him, undeniably and unconsciously exposing your cleavage to him.

He smirked, mirroring your move and leaning in closer. “You’re nothing like what I imagined.”

All of a sudden, your heart fluttered. “I-is that a compliment?”

He raised a brow, “Maybe.”

You chuckled nervously, “What do you mean?”

“It’s up to you if it’s a compliment or not,” shrugging, he waved his hand in lieu of speaking to let you fill in.

You crossed your legs before shifting on the couch. “I’m confused,” you said as you rolled your eyes and laughed forcefully. “Are you messing with me?”

He stayed quiet but certainly, he had a story to tell. A story of innocence if not corruption.

“Are you comparing me to someone?” you dared to ask.

Gojo nearly dropped the plate he was holding. There it was. The silence returned.

He could have denied it but he didn’t.

“Satoru?”

“Do you think this place will provide you everything you’re seeking?” he finally spoke, ignoring you.

“Uh,” you looked embarrassed, “I’m happy here right now and I’ll surely be happy in the future.”

It wasn’t a lie.

You enjoyed being here.

Although it had barely been a week, you were already attached to Gojo. This place felt more like a home than any other place you had stayed.

“I’m glad.” His tone was softer than before, “Not everyone would be able to fit in as quickly as you do.”

You nodded languidly as it became dead silent again.

~~~

“I don’t like girls who smoke.”

He made you quit smoking.

“It’s weird when you smile showing your teeth.”

You covered your mouth when you laughed after that.

“I like it when you’re so timid.”

He wanted you to act innocent.

“It’s cute when you cling to me like that.”

It felt like he was looking through you instead of looking at you.

~~~

You jolted awake when you heard the sound of a whistle, it sounded almost like a strong wind.

Rubbing your eyes, you sat up on the bed. The clock on the nightstand read past two in the morning and Gojo wasn’t sleeping next to you.

“Satoru?” you called after him but got no answer.

Something was wrong.

A phone vibrated on the nightstand. Crawling on the bed, you reached for the phone that wasn’t yours. The lock screen lit up and you squinted your eyes at the bright light. It was a picture of Gojo and his student in the background, your boyfriend was grinning while his student stared at the camera with a stoic expression. Over the picture was a notification. A text message.

When a person stares at a bunch of words, they read it without thinking, it was almost instinctively for humans to read words if they knew what they meant. That was how your brain was programmed to work.

Yet no matter how many times you read the text message, you weren’t able to understand it.

Before you could try to make sense of the words the phone disappeared from your grasp.

You jumped out of the bed.

“Satoru?!”

Nobody answered back.

As you were looking around, you saw that the closet’s door was wide open, the silk shirt from on top of his dresser was gone.

No, no, no.

Walking out of the room, you toured the entire house, searching for your tall and buff boyfriend in every corner as if he could hide.

He wasn’t here.

Okay, calm down. He was out for a mission. Yeah, that was it.

However, even after you went back to bed, you couldn’t sleep until he returned just before the sunrise.

You pretended to be asleep as Gojo quietly took off his clothes and got in the bed. He didn’t snuggle into you or got closer to you because he reeked of cigarettes and sweat. Maybe, you were right. Curses left strange smells like this on your body after being exorcised, he clearly had gone out for a mission.

Gojo was the strongest, he had to be there if anyone needed help.

~~~

You cooked a warm meal for Gojo every evening but he never once arrived home before the food got cold and packed into the fridge in a container.

Tonight, instead of wasting your time cooking, you wanted to have a pamper day and decided to spend all evening in front of the television, watching a movie while drinking ice cold beer after a long and relaxing shower.

“I’m home!”

Your shoulders tensed when Gojo suddenly appeared in the middle of the living room.

“Welcome home,” you replied, turning your head to look at him. He never came home this early. “How was your day?”

Walking around the couch, he plopped down next to you and immediately pulled you next to him. “It was such a long and busy day today, argh! What’s for dinner? I’m starving!”

“I… I didn’t cook dinner today.”

“Then why are you here?” he asked while grabbing the beer from your hand to take a sip.

“Huh?” You were genuinely confused, staring at him.

“Do you even love me?” he questioned you openly, “I asked you to move in so we could live like a couple and-”

“You’re never home when it’s time for dinner,” you cut him off, trying to defend yourself. “I-I just thought it would be better to save rice and didn’t cook today. I didn’t think you’d come home this early.”

“So what if rice gets a little cold?” He chugged the beer down to its last drop and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before speaking. “It’s the gesture that counts but I guess you don’t love me. Is that it?”

“No!” You turned to face him on the couch, denying his childish accusations. “I love you more than anything, you know that! I’ll cook now, I’ll cook whatever you want so tell me.”

“No,” he replied, leaning forward to put the beer can down on the coffee table. “I lost my appetite. I thought you loved me, (name).”

You were getting frustrated, your voice cracked as you tried telling him about your feelings. “I love you, Satoru!”

“Maybe I should get another girlfriend since you don’t love me anymore.”

Your stomach dropped, the uneasy feeling started to settle in. An ugly pause was there, your lips curled down to form a hideous frown.

Watching your expression, Gojo pulled down his blindfold and started grinning like an idiot. “I was just joking!” he laughed audibly and forcibly, “Gotcha!”

You didn’t laugh with him.

~~~

“I love you,” you said directly after wishing him goodnight.

“Hmm, goodnight.”

He drifted into slumber right away.

~~~

Just before Gojo was about to leave for work the next morning, you asked him to take you to the grocery store for five minutes.

You bought all the necessities, milk, instant coffee, bread and-

“I’ll take one of these, short.” You froze and quickly corrected yourself. “No, I’ll have the long pack, thank you.”

The cashier pulled out the cigarettes you pointed at from the displays and told you your total. After paying you stuffed the pack of cigarettes down your pocket and put the rest in your bag.

“Ma’am the receipt?” the cashier asked, it looked like she had been calling out to you a couple of times because everyone who was on the line behind you was staring at you.

“Throw it,” you replied. He didn’t need to know. He could never know.

When you exited the store, Gojo was grinning down at his phone. As soon as he noticed you, he put this phone away. “Ready?”

You nodded and he held your hand.

With a blink of an eye, you were back inside the same house you hadn’t left in so long. Between four walls that surrounded you.

You needed fresh air, it was suffocating. A whole week and maybe longer inside here without any contact with other humans. You woke up to Gojo’s pretty face illuminated by the morning sun and fell asleep while watching his gorgeous face.

He was all you were seeing even when you closed your eyes.

“Bye.” Gojo pressed a kiss on your lips and vanished.

Now, you were alone.

All alone.

Dropping your bag, you headed towards the kitchen. Pulling a chair from a table, you put it in front of the gas range and turned the exhaust fan on its highest setting. You took out the cigarettes from your pocket and sat in the chair before lighting up one of the gas stove burners by turning the knob. There was a continuous clicking sound before the flames appeared.

You ripped your cigarette pack open and took one single cigarette out, promising yourself that this was your last, you needed this. You needed to relax.

After putting the cigarette between your lips, you leaned down to light the tip using the stove burner from between its grate. You inhaled deeply, the tobacco from the tip burned and traveled towards the sponge end and into your mouth. Your shoulders relaxed as your lungs filled with smoke, with the tinge of nicotine.

The first inhale was heavenly. Always had been.

You exhaled towards the exhaust fan, letting it suck up all the nasty smell of tobacco and leaving no evidence other than the faint smell of something that was closer to a paper burning. Once you cooked the salmon you were planning to cook tonight for dinner, the smell would be completely gone.

You didn’t need to stress over anything. You could enjoy your cigarette and-

Your fingers burned.

When you stared down, you saw that you had already finished your cigarette and the sponge was about to burn. You stubbed it out on the countertop before taking one more cigarette from the pack. Then another one. And then another. Then one last cigarette and then one another last cigarette and then-

You finished an entire pack of cigarettes in a single day.

That had never happened before.

No, you had one single cigarette left. You… You were going to save it. For one day if you ever felt this much pressure.

Your throat hurt but the nicotine in your system… It felt good. You felt relaxed, stress wasn’t present anywhere, not anymore. It was as if you were yourself again.

Once again, you were the happiest person alive.

~~~

You sat at the dinner table with the now ice-cold salmon and many garnishes you had cooked specifically for Gojo who hadn’t even bothered to text you if he was coming late or if he was coming home at all.

The kitchen was clean, cigarette butts and the pack were thrown into the trash while the entire house smelled of bleach and fish.

You were smiling, wearing that sundress you knew he liked as you waited for him to come home, unsure how long time had passed since the dinnertime. Although your phone was right in front of you, seeing the time could make your smile falter so you avoided checking the time.

He would come home.

At any moment now.

Eventually.

~~~

Gojo never came home that night.

~~~

You were the dumbest person alive.

~~~

Gojo was lightweight when it came to drinking. He only drank alcohol in the comfort of his own home and always expected you to clean after him.

He was childish and he didn’t know any manners.

But at least, he loved you.

~~~

It was a late Friday night.

“Are you drunk Satoru?” you started giggling and you could see how red his face was becoming. He clearly was drunk. You walked over to him and tried lifting him up from the couch. “Let’s get you to bed!”

He groaned, refusing to move while slurring words about how pretty you were and how he wasn't drunk.

You laughed at him, telling him that he was drunker than drunk. If he had one more glass of hard liquor, he could pass out. You were sure of it.

Letting go of his hands, you leaned forward and captured his cheeks between your hands. “You’re drunk and you need to sleep now. You promised to take me out on a date tomorrow.”

Gojo ignored your words and puckered his lips.

A forced chuckle left you before you closed the distance between the two of you so you could press your lips against his.

He pulled you into his lap and deepened the kiss. His lips were moving hungrily against yours, savoring the taste of the light beer you had on your lips along with your own sugary taste.

You were both drunk.

“We should just sleep,” you told him, breaking the kiss. “I made reservations and planned out the entire day for us because I knew you wouldn’t.”

“It’s no fun when you act responsible,” he murmured, pressing his forehead against yours. “We should be reckless like teenagers.”

“We’re adults, Satoru. You have to grow up,” you whispered softly.

“Being an adult doesn’t mean we have to be responsible all the time.” He groped a handful of your ass and lolled out his tongue to lick your lips.

“Ew!” You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand while using your free hand to push him away but he wrapped his arms around you and forced you to lie on the couch with him.

“Let’s sleep here,” he mumbled. “I like it like this.”

You let out a sigh in defeat. If it meant that you two would be sleeping, you didn’t care. “Okay,” you replied.

“Can you pet my hair?” he asked smugly, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you flush against his chest.

You gave in to the drunk dumbass and started carding your fingers through his silky straight hair.

The two of you lied together, listening to the sounds of the outside world. Time passed slower than slow as if it didn’t exist.

You liked being curled up like this. “Satoru,” you murmured softly, still petting his hair.

He hummed lowly and smiled. “Yeah?”

“What do you like about me?”

His tired, half-lidded eyes widened and he forced a chuckle. “You’re way too straightforward. Did anyone tell you that before?”

“I’m just asking because I’m curious and I kind of want to know what made you want to have me beside you.” You chewed on the inside of your cheek as you combed your fingers through his soft hair. “If you don’t want to say anything, that’s fine. It was childish of me to ask.”

“It’s fine but even if you ask me a question like that… I don’t think I can answer it that simply.” He blinked slowly. “I’m already a proper adult by your own definition, haha, yet I’m still a brat when it comes to talking about serious stuff like this.”

You tugged at his hair, scratching his scalp. “But it’s an easy question.”

Gojo froze for a moment and looked at you. With the way you looked back at him, he could see how badly you were in love with him.

“It indeed is an easy question but hmm… Where do I even start?” he chuckled to himself. He cupped your cheek in his hand and your eyes fluttered from his touch before you closed them happily. “I like the way you blush when our eyes meet and I like how you cling onto me to feel safe.”

You opened your eyes but kept your fingers tangled in his hair, gently caressing it and watching him.

“What about you?” he asked.

“Huh?”

“What do you like about me?” He was smiling tiredly, ready to fall asleep at any given moment.

“I like your eyes,” you snuggled closer to him with a giggle. “I like how childish you are and I like your face.”

Something closer to a laugh escaped him, it was the first genuine laugh you had heard coming from him. “Is that all?”

You hummed in response.

“Well, in the end, you like me,” he mocked. “And that means you have terrible taste in men.”

You cutely pouted your lips. “What does that supposed to mean?”

“You like flamboyant and irresponsible guys.”

“Where did you get that idea?” A quiet giggle escaped from you.

“You like me,” he said, smirking widely as he closed his eyes, ready to fall asleep in an instant.

Taken aback by his remark, you were quiet for a moment.

He carefully placed a hand on your hip as he moved his hand under the skirt of your sundress, and then he whispered. “Let’s have sex.”

“W-what?”

“You heard me.” Gojo moved closer to you and opened his eyes to reveal the lustful haze in them. He was already breathless for finally having you so close.

You held your breath and trembled as he grabbed a handful of the soft flesh of your ass. You gasped at the feeling of his big hand.

“(name),” he moaned into your ear as his hand jiggled your ass. “You’re so soft.”

Hearing your name come out from his lips made you feel euphoric.

“Satoru…” you exhaled slowly, it was getting hot. Your eyes lingered on his broad shoulders and sharp features. “You are so handsome, Satoru.”

Gojo stared at you, studying every detail of your face with a goofy grin on his own.

“Stop staring!” You covered your face with your hands and tossed around in embarrassment while your legs got into a tangled mess with his. “Don’t stare.” You stole a quick glance in his direction to see if he was still looking at you and found his smoldering blue eyes intently watching you.

The corners of his lips turned upwards slightly at the way you blushed. “Goodnight, (name).”

“G-goodnight and sweet dreams,” you shyly said it back. “I love you, Satoru.”

He didn’t respond and instead pulled you closer towards himself.

You were the happiest person alive.

~~~

The two of you stood at the top of a hill after a long day of checking around the many restaurants and coffee shops in Shibuya. The night wind kissed your skin as the stars glimmered through the entire sky above you.

You had thought he was taking you home when he teleported. He wasn’t the type to do romantic stuff either but you hoped living together for a week had started changing him.

“It’s beautiful,” you said, holding his hand tightly. “Where are we?”

“Somewhere remote and without any city lights to ruin the image of the sky.” He pulled you in front of you and wrapped his arms around your shoulders. “I wanted to thank you for being with me. I’m not the type of person others tolerate much.”

“Satoru, I love you with all my being, you don’t need to thank me for anything. I should be the one saying all of this, thank you for loving me and giving me a place in your life.” You tried turning around to face him but he tightened his arms around you and kept you in place.

It was quiet for a while as both of you watched the sky.

“It’s nice being under the night sky like this,” Gojo said.

“It really is.” you agreed. The view was perfect, breathtaking.

“It’s very quiet.” He was right about it being very quiet, you were far far away from any city, the only thing you could hear were the sounds of crickets and the trees shaking from the strong summer breeze.

You sighed softly, “It’s peaceful that way.” Your body shivered.

Gojo noticed that you were only wearing your sundress and unwrapped his arms around you, “Wait here, I’ll be back.”

“What?” As you were turning around to look at him, he vanished.

Giving an exasperated sigh, you wrapped your arms around you to keep yourself warm but before you could internally complain about Gojo leaving you alone in the middle of nowhere, you felt a blanket being draped over your shoulders.

Startled, you whipped your head around to stare at your boyfriend’s grinning face. He pointed at the blanket he had laid out on the grass. “Let’s stay here for a while, alone together.”

A smile tugged at your lips as you walked towards the picnic blanket. “You brought sake?” you laughed, grinning widely.

“And some sweets!” He struck a pose before getting comfortable on the blanket, lying on his back and watching the stars. “I thought it’d be nice to enjoy some time here and I don’t know… Listen to you talk about how much you love me? We should make that a weekly thing. One night you just talk about how much you love my appearance and- ah! (name)!”

You threw yourself on top of him, clashing your lips together. “I love you,” you gasped into the kiss and rubbed yourself onto his crotch. “I love you, Satoru.”

He started laughing, so much so that you started laughing along with him and stopped kissing him. His hands went to your hips, “Who knew you would actually try to attack me, maybe I shouldn’t turn off infinity when I’m with you.”

“But then you wouldn’t get to experience this.” With a seducing smile, you lifted your hips up from his crotch and reached under the skirt of your dress to slide your panties down.

“The night just keeps getting better and better.” Gojo used a single hand to hastily tug down the front of his pants to release his half-hard erection. His large hand wrapped around the base of his cock and he started jerking himself off to the sight of you.

“Every night could be like this if only you could come home early.” You were telling the truth. He was almost never home and when he was, you saw him barely for a couple of minutes before he left for work.

“Is that a promise?” The smile in his voice was mocking. He dragged the tip of his cock along your wet folds as you were trying to find the most comfortable position.

“Why don’t you try and find out?” You reached between your legs to put the tip of his cock against your entrance and Gojo pulled his hand away from his cock to place it back on your hip.

You lowered yourself on the length of his cock, gasping audibly at the feeling of his girth stretching your walls. His fingers dug into the flesh on your hips enough to leave bruises when you abruptly slammed yourself down to take the last bit of his cock inside your pussy.

Now, his entire length was inside of you, throbbing and aching to be taken care of.

“(name),” he rasped, “Don’t move so suddenly- ah!”

Lifting yourself up you slammed yourself down his cock and continued moving your hips that way. The pace you had picked was the most pleasurable for you, his cock was stroking all the good spots each time you shook your hips and it made your legs jolt in ecstasy.

Gojo’s hips started moving along with your own, he raised his hips up from the picnic blanket to slam into you at the same time you slammed down onto his cock.

A pleasure-filled scream tore out of you as you lost your balance and placed your hands on his abdomen, continuing to frantically bounce on him.

You stared down at him, at his gorgeous face being illuminated by the moonlight, his eyes sparkled brighter than any of the stars in the sky. The most genuine look of pleasure was plastered all over his face, he was looking at you in admiration.

Your walls clenched around him, the knowledge of fucking Satoru Gojo was enough to make you cum on the spot. He was all yours, all yours forever.

Groaning at the sensation of your pulsating walls around his cock, Gojo suddenly moved and took you under him. He grabbed you by the back of your knees and pushed them up towards your chest until he could mount you entirely.

He surged his hips forward hurriedly and pulled back with the same speed. His pace was brutal and frenzied. He was thrusting into you like his life depended on it, his hips wouldn’t stop moving.

Oh, how good it felt to be wanted so desperately by Gojo.

The man mentioned was putting his entire weight behind his thrusts, going so deep in your pussy that you sower the stars in the sky multiplied.

“I want to see your crying expression,” he groaned, saying it in the heat of the moment but there was something underlying beneath those words.

You didn’t get to ask him what he meant as he slapped his hand on your neck with enough force to crush your windpipe. Your mouth popped open in pain but you couldn’t make any noise while his large hand wrapped around your neck tightly.

He had this intense look in his eyes, focused only on your eyes, hoping to see them become glossy with tears or better yet see your entire face get stained with tears.

“Cry.”

Panic started to settle in, your hands went to his hand around your neck, you tried digging your fingers under his own to release yourself from his grip.

His hips were still moving, he was continuously thrusting into you with a sinister smile on his face.

You started tearing up from the pain, eyes turning reddish and face turning blue. No matter how much you tried inhaling, you couldn’t breathe with the pressure on your neck.

When tears finally streamed down your cheeks, Gojo immediately let go of you and buried himself deep inside your cunt. His cock throbbed before he spilled his entire load in your womb.

You were coughing, desperately sucking in air in your lungs as he pulled out of you. “W-why-ah! Why did you (cough) do that?!”

“Sorry.” He threw himself next to you on the blanket, chest heaving rapidly.

“That didn’t sound genuine!” you wheezed in anger.

“I apologize. I won’t do it again.” He slapped a hand on his face and dragged it down slowly. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re just sorry-?!”

Gojo turned to face you and looked at you with such innocence that you forgot why you were mad. “It was wrong, I won’t do it again, okay?”

After a long moment of silence and you calming down enough to forgive him, Gojo opened the sake bottle he had brought while you were wiping yourself up with your panties.

He offered you the cup he filled as soon as you sat down next to him and you hesitantly took it from him. The cup he poured for himself was empty within a second, he refilled his cup and chugged the beverage to pour even more in his cup. His face was completely red, it was obvious that he was a light head.

“Satoru, take it slow, you took us here, I can’t take us back home,” you warned but your words fell on deaf ears. Gojo chugged another cup of sake and finally, he dropped onto the blanket with his eyes closed.

“Don’t just fall asleep!” Your eyebrows rose, you were laughing at his childish way of dealing with you.

You put your own sake cup down and grabbed the extra blanket he had brought with him. Lying next to him, you pulled the blanket over the two of you.

The sky above you was straight out of a painting, beautiful and bright. You saw a shooting star.

“Satoru!” you excitedly said, lightly tapping on his chest. “Make a wish!”

Gojo’s eyes snapped open and he stared up at the sky above him. “Did a star fall?”

“Yes! Ahh! I saw it for the first time, I had never seen a star fall like that!” You felt him pull you closer towards himself, a bright smile was plastered on his face.

“I wish that you’ll always be like this.”

“Like what?” You raised a brow.

“Childish.”

“I’m not childish.” You blushed.

“Satoru, ooohhhh Satoru, look a star! Oh my! Make a wish, Satoru, make a wish!” he mocked your previous excitement over the shooting star.

You hit his chest playfully, “Stop making fun of me.”

“I’m not,” he said but the smile tugging at his lips said the opposite. “I like it when you’re like a puppy.”

“You mean obedient?” It was getting more confusing.

“No,” he said, he sounded thoughtful. “Meek and devoted. I am fond of innocence.”

There was an ugly pause, no other sound was loud enough to fill it.

~~~

Innocent.

The loose definition was someone who was pure and guileless, someone who hadn’t been corrupted.

You were innocent. You were a good person.

To Gojo, however, innocence meant only one thing.

A blank canvas.

Someone pathetic and needy, almost like a crybaby who hasn’t been touched by another. A pure little girl ready to be painted with the blank ink that was bleeding through his fingers and mouth.

Are you innocent?

Yes!

He didn’t want someone like you. He needed someone gullible, someone he could corrupt easily and would always need him. A defenseless little girl waiting to be held by the big strong hero.

Are you innocent?

I… am.

Gojo needed a pathetic worshipper, crying and begging for his attention. Someone he could use with ease, someone who was only going to make him feel like he was a God. Someone who would always and always believe whatever he said to be the law and truth of the world.

Are you innocent?

…

Pure as the chaste women in paintings kissing adorable small lambs. Someone so timid yet so touch starved. Someone who would reach their tiny little hands towards him with meekness so he could hold them.

Are you innocent?

...No.

Gojo desired a helpless little girl tainted with the curse of innocence.

Are you innocent?

I will be.

~~~

It was nearing three in the morning.

“Welcome home, Satoru.” You were wearing the prettiest dress you owned with an apron over it, your face was painted with makeup, lots of pink tones, and lots of blush.

“Oh, you waited for me to come home?” Gojo was grinning, it was the first genuine smile of pure joy you had seen on him.

“I wanted us to eat dinner together,” you shyly admitted as you couldn’t meet his gaze and took his jacket he was handing towards you, “I’m so lonely when you’re not home.”

He blushed, not out of shyness. Out of excitement. Pleasure. Delight.

Gojo fucked you like he had never before against the dinner table that night.

~~~

“I-it feels weird,” you were moaning and holding onto his bicep, not even pushing him away.

“Tell me why it feels weird.” His voice was hoarse yet playful, his fingers were knuckle deep inside your cunt as you were sitting on his lap in the bathtub.

“Because you’re touching me t-there.” Squirming slightly, you uttered in a soft voice. Your hips were moving against his fingers, begging for more at the same time you were denying that it felt good.

“Where?” He smiled against the skin of your neck, pressing slow and short kisses on your pulse point.

“Down there,” you whispered. You were refusing to say any vulgar words.

“Where exactly?” His thumb started rubbing uneven circles over your sensitive nub while his fingers thrust in and out of you sluggishly. There was no hurry, both of you had time.

“Inside me.” You covered your mouth with a hand as your other hand tightly gripped his bicep. “You’re touching me on the inside.”

“Say the name of the thing I’m touching.” He bit your neck, licking the skin slowly until he reached your jawline.

“Nooo, please, I-I can’t.”

“Why?” He whispered into your ear, lips brushing against the shell of your ear.

“It’s so embarrassing,” you cried, voice breaking. “Satoru, it’s embarrassing, don’t make me say it.”

That was enough to make him snap.

Gojo abruptly shoved you forward and inserted his cock in your pussy. You barely managed to hold onto the edge of the bathtub as he began mercilessly thrusting into you. The water inside spilled outside, making a mess you were going to clean with a large grin later on.

~~~

You were the most miserable happy person alive.

~~~

“I need to go for a business trip next week,” he said, petting your hair.

“Where?” No, that isn’t a question a gullible girl would ask.

“How long?” Are you stupid? So assertive.

“Will you be gone for long?“ you asked, looking up to him through your lashes.

“I don’t know,” he sighed, “Why did you ask?”

Wouldn’t anyone ask if their boyfriend was going away?

No.

This was a test.

He was testing you.

“I’ll miss you.” This isn't what he wants to hear.

“I don’t like being alone,” you pouted, drawing circles over his bare chest. “I’ll be so lonely when you’re gone.”

“I’ll be back before you know it.” He pressed a kiss against your hair, “I’d hate to leave my precious girlfriend all alone.”

~~~

Gojo dropped you in Kyoto before he went on his business trip. You needed to get some stuff from the school’s campus and visit your apartment to stay there until he returned.

You went to visit Utahime’s office before leaving to catch the bus to your apartment.

There was a small moment of hesitation as you knocked on her door and burst inside without waiting for an answer.

“I didn’t say come in-” Her grumpy expression dropped in an instant. “(name)!” she smiled, lifting her head up from the pile of paperwork. “You’re back?!”

“No,” you quickly said and walked up to her as she got up from her desk. “I wanted to say hi.”

The two of you hugged, swaying from side to side happily.

She pulled back from the embrace, “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too.” You tilted your head in the direction of her desk, “A lot of work, huh?”

“You have no idea!” Her eyes lit up in anger as she tried explaining her situation. “That damn Tokyo school went on their summer break and left all of their curse listings to us. It’s like a massive joke.”

You froze momentarily. “They’re on a break?”

“Yes! It’s unfair to my students and our faculty-”

“Why though?”

Utahime noticed your face contorting into something vile, she forced a smile on her own to ease the mood. “It’s always been like this, don’t you remember? They go on a summer break a month before us and leave their work to us.”

Your blood ran cold at her words. You remembered. Then why was Gojo going to work dressed in his teacher uniform every day when there wasn’t any work?

“So, they’re just doing fieldwork? The teachers... I mean.” Desperate. You were desperate to make logic out of your own situation.

“I don’t think so. I heard Nanami is working with his partner and tracking down curses around Tokyo but I haven’t heard anything about that guy . He never does fieldwork anyway, he says he’s too strong for that.” Satoru Gojo didn't do fieldwork.

“What’s Gojo doing nowadays? Do you know anything?” you asked.

“Ugh, you should give up on him, (name)!” She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. “You said it didn’t work out between the two of you. That guy doesn’t deserve you.”

“I’m just asking.” Your tone was cold.

Utahime stumbled on her words, you were never this inanimate. “Shoko said he was fooling around with different women every day.”

It was as if someone poured ice-cold water over your head and swung you into a blizzard, your teeth started chattering but you clenched your jaw to stop it.

“(name)?” Utahime put a hand on your shoulder, her voice was filled with worry. “Are you okay?”

“I’m… fine.” You had to hold back your tears. “It’s unfair that they go on a break and do nothing while you’re working non-stop like this.”

“Right?” Her own shoulders eased and she smiled. “They all think they’re too good for doing paperwork.”

“What do you expect from stupid city people?” you grinned.

“Ahh, I missed this!” Utahime wrapped her arms around you one more time. “Let’s go out for a coffee, I’m almost done with work so you can sit here and wait.”

“No,” you replied and she hesitantly pulled herself back. “I mean, I need to get some stuff from my old office. You can work at your own pace and I’ll meet you at our usual place. Is that fine with you?”

She nodded happily and embraced you again.

As soon as you left your office, your smile dropped.

You went back to the infirmary while stomping with each step. Biting your bottom lip, you refused to cry until you could lock yourself inside your old office. However, your tears fell anyway even before you reached the door.

How miserable.

How stupid.

How pathetic.

Covering your mouth, you threw yourself inside and locked the door behind you as the entire world melted down around you.

You were never enough. Never.

You weren’t innocent enough. You weren’t the one he wanted but he was keeping you at his home. He had at least treasured you enough to share his bed with you under his roof.

Was that even his house? Maybe he had a dozen other girls like you, waiting for him at their perfect little house.

No. Stop.

He loved you. He had to.

He promised you that he would love you and only you.

You could do better.

You could forge yourself to be the perfect girl for him. You were already trying to be what he wanted you to be. It wouldn’t be that hard to pretend to be more innocent, you could open your legs wider and act like you didn’t want him to touch you but secretly want it. You could cry in his arms and-

Wait. Calm down.

What if this was another test?

He had told you to keep your relationship with him a secret. Maybe Shoko was covering for his absence, she was his friend after all.

Maybe he wanted to see how you would react.

There had to be a logical explanation. Gojo was loyal to you. He had promised.

Did he really promise?

He didn’t even open his mouth to say that he loved you, what made you think he promised to only love you?

…

You weren’t dumb.

You weren’t some innocent girl he desperately wanted but he wasn’t exactly what you wanted either.

But still, you had hope. You were hoping that you could change him or become the girl he wanted.

Your hands started to shake violently, your vision was blurry with tears and throat sore from a scream that you hadn’t even let out.

He had let you become a part of his life for a reason. He had to be confused about his feelings about you. No. You had to show him that you were all he needed. Only then he would understand.

Gasping in relief, you walked over towards the medicine cabinet with a nightmarish smile and opened it while laughing.

You were the only one who could make his pitiful empty house into a loving home.

You just had to prove it to him.

~~~

Gojo returned three days later to take you to his house.

He was the same. Childish, cheerful, and playful.

You were different. Timid, meek, and gullible.

~~~

You tried your best.

You really did.

He remained the same.

Without giving anything in return, he expected you to love him unconditionally. He wanted you to beg for his attention and drink the hard liquor he gave you until you couldn’t see straight so he could easily make you cry.

He loved it when you cried. It was some fetish he had which you had failed to notice before. He got hard when you acted stupid and spoke like a clueless virgin.

“Why are you touching me like that?”

“Something is poking me, is that your phone?”

“It feels weird.”

“I don’t think it’ll fit in, it’s too big for me.”

“Am I doing good?”

Yet, he still went to ‘work’ and came late at night.

And you still waited for him, wearing your prettiest dresses with your best lingerie underneath and with the dinner ready.

Haven’t you learned?

You can’t tame a feral beast unless you use force.

~~~

You stopped trying and gave him the benefit of the doubt.

He was probably busy with work outside of school and didn’t have much time to give you attention.

~~~

He brought you here because he knew you were powerless and could never hurt him. He wanted a pet to wait for him until he returned back home so he wouldn’t be lonely. You only had to act like a puppy and wag your tail when you saw him.

His house was the only place he didn’t turn on his infinity and dropped his guard. It was because he was safe with you. Nobody knew his address. Nobody could hurt him here.

He only drank in the comfort of his own home. He drank the same hard liquor he made you drink to get drunk easily and doze off after or in the middle of fucking you.

Satoru Gojo was a pathetic and lonely man who needed the warmth of a pitiful woman who worshipped him to feel better about his miserable life.

You could see it all clearly now.

It made you understand him.

Now, you knew the actual reason why he wanted someone innocent. He wanted to corrupt them like the jujutsu world had done to him from the moment he was born. He was never innocent, not even at birth. He was envious of those with innocence and wanted to take it for himself. Poetic.

He was still a little kid trapped within a man who had never felt happy in his life.

You were going to make him happy.

~~~

He reeked of vanilla, the kind of vanilla aroma used in those expensive perfume bottles you could never afford as he got under the sheets next to you.

The smell was overwhelming all of your senses from the moment he stepped inside the apartment and took a shower to mask the perfume’s aroma with his own body wash but what he didn’t know was how well expensive perfumes like this stuck.

You played dumb, didn’t say anything, and pretended to be asleep.

However, his hands wandered over your torso, he was fondling and caressing the supple flesh of your breasts under your shirt while breathing hard on your neck.

“I know you’re awake,” he whispered, the smile in his voice was playful.

You didn’t answer.

He pressed himself against you, making you feel the growing erection under the fabric of his boxers.

You didn’t move.

“Ahh, you’re really sleeping?” He sounded disappointed, sad. “I miss the times you used to wait for me with a cooked warm meal and wearing a pretty dress~”

A long moment passed before he sighed and pulled his hands back when you continued ignoring him. “You’re no fun anymore,” he mumbled under his breath but you heard him.

~~~

He wasn’t going to change. You changed yourself to fit in his ideals but he would never do the same for you. Not unless you forced him to do it.

He had to try hard like you.

That was how relationships worked, you both build yourselves up and pretend to be different people for the sake of the other person.

Nobody would love him as much as you did, nobody would be able to provide him the things he needed like you did.

Gojo needed you in his life.

He had to understand that.

You were perfect for each other.

The sound of the running fridge was deafening in the dead silence of this house. It was giving you a terrible headache as you stared at the pills you had stolen from the school before crushing them all together until they turned into fine powder.

It felt funny looking at the crushed pills. You had caught many students crushing the pills they got from you after faking to be in severe pain to snort them. They never knew about the side effects of mixing these two pills or how badly it could numb your body if you abused it too much.

However, nobody cared about what the school nurse had to say. Did anyone even care what you had to say?

Guess not.

Returning to the present, you carefully rolled the paper with the crushed pills into a small cone and lifted the top cork, it made a loud ‘pop’ sound.

Thankfully, he had opened a new hard liquor bottle so you didn’t need to go through the interrogation or teasing about why you had opened a bottle when you never liked hard liquor in the first place.

Although you liked the way they made cigar taste good and left a nasty aftertaste in your mouth for some reason you enjoyed, another good thing about most of the fancy hard liquor bottles was that they were opaque with lots of design on them, making it impossible to see the mushy and powdery substance at the bottom.

You could never make him happy.

~~~

He didn’t come home early enough to enjoy a drink.

The next day was the same and the day after that and the day after that.

But you were patient.

You waited.

You waited in your pretty dresses with cute innocent smiles and let him fuck you in your sleep as he wanted until the day arrived.

“Welcome home, Satoru!” You were tilting your head, smiling without any teeth because you knew he hated seeing them. “How was your day today?”

“Loooong and booooring!” he whined as he took off his blindfold and shrugged off of his jacket. “What’s for dinner?”

“Beef, like you asked.” You took his jacket to hang it so it wouldn’t get any wrinkles. The strong smell hit you before you even reached for the coat hanger though. It reeked of a different perfume and cigarettes. You could tell that whoever it was, they liked their tobacco strong, the smell was closer to a cigar.

“Ahh, great! You’re the best! I was looking forward to eating meat today!” He was already walking towards the living room while you were trembling in anguish.

Following him into the living room and to the dining table, you kept on your smile, your cheeks were hurting from smiling. “I hope you’ll like it, I made lots of veggies as a garnish if the beef isn’t too fulfilling.”

“Your cooking always hits the spot, I’ll eat the whole plate and lick it clean.” He was laughing between his words as he took a seat.

“We should cook together this weekend, it’d be fun.” You lifted the tin foil up from the plates and the steam coming from the beef was visible for a moment before disappearing.

“Yes!” Gojo rubbed his hands together and grabbed his cutlery from the table. “This looks delicious!”

You sat across from him and lifted the foil from your own plate to join him to eat. “What did you do today?”

“Work, lots of work,” he said while cutting his thick slice of beef, the knife was moving repeatedly and with force until it started grazing the plate. Using his work he put the large meat piece in his mouth, chewing slowly.

“Were your students causing any trouble?” you asked, cutting your own thin slice with a little too much force.

“I wouldn’t say so, they’re all doing their individual fieldwork right now. One of them is in Africa with another student while Megumi is in Tokyo. I’m usually with him, he needs a lot to learn if he wants to get better. You met him, remember?”

“The one you adopted,” you nodded.

“The one I adopted,” he echoed, mimicking your nodding. “He’s got potential, he will get stronger and I have to be there to help him.”

“You should bring him here,” you replied. “I��d love to cook something for him. He’s a part of the Gojo family like me, right?”

Gojo stopped chewing for a brief second and stared at you blankly.

“Sorry, was that too much?” You meekly put your cutlery down and reached for the glass of water. “I just remembered what you told me about his family so I figured it’d be nice to include him with us.” Please, just go along with it.

“He’s busy,” he said, straight to the point as if to tell you to shut up.

“What about when it’s the summer break?” Your smile was twitching. Please Gojo, give me at least this. Show me that you want me here.

“The beef is delicious,” he said suddenly, shoving another piece in his mouth. He spoke again with his mouth full. He was simply trying to distract you from the sweat droplets that were forming on his face. “I really like the seasoning and the sauce you used.” You’re a useless piece of shit. Full of lies.

“Thank you. It’s my own recipe.” Your hands were shaking but you stopped them with your willpower alone. I have to do it. I have no other choice.

It was your own fault for thinking the two of you could get over this like two adults.

The rest of the dinner was uneventful, he lied to you about his goofy day and you pretended to be amazed by everything he told you.

“Ahh, I’m so full!” He plopped down on the couch and put a hand on his stomach. “I can barely moveeeeee!”

“I’ll do the dishes,” you said, making a move to go to the kitchen.

“Why don’t you grab something to drink so we can sit here for a while? You can do the dishes later!” he whined, patting on the couch cushion roughly and telling you to join him.

“Are you sure?”

When you peered inside the living room, he had already grabbed the hard liquor bottle from the coffee table in front of him.

“Absolutely! Can you just bring me a glass?”

“Okay.” Your ears were burning at the same time your limbs started to feel heavy. It was happening.

You returned from the kitchen with a canned beer and a glass for your boyfriend. He took the glass from you and poured a generous amount of liquor into it. Your legs shook in anticipation until he brought the glass up to his lips, taking a small sip before putting it aside.

His nose scrunched at the taste, somewhat a lot more bitter than usual but he didn’t think much of it as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “I like this,” he hummed happily. “You’re the only thing that makes me excited to come home. Before we met, this place was such an empty and quiet house but now with you in it, it feels like a loving home. It’s baffling to me how a little woman like you can make such a drastic change in my life.”

Opening your can of beer, you took a long sip to calm your nerves and stop listening to his lies but he continued speaking.

“I feel like I’m more mature thanks to you. I am responsible and doing my own paperwork and work every day to come home to you. I may work overtime every once in a while but I’m truly grateful that you’re always here. I don’t think I would be this happy without you, (name).”

He was staring at you, the unsettling blue of his eyes was threatening to drown you and drag you to the bottom of the ocean to show you the dangers you had never seen before.

He wanted to make sure you were listening, make sure that you believed each and every word that came out of his filthy mouth.

You were only looking at his hand on his thigh though. He was repeatedly tapping his forefinger on his leg, fidgeting impatiently and waiting for you to give him a response in admiration. A response where you would smile and kiss him, telling him how much you loved him and didn’t deserve him.

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

Pause.

He noticed your stare and used his hand to grab the glass of liquor instead.

“I love you,” you said as he took a mouthful from his liquor, finishing it in one go. “You love me too, right?”

“Yeah.” He pulled his arm away from you and reached forward to pour more liquor into his glass.

“Say it.” Your voice came off demanding.

“Huh? What are… What are you talking about?” He was slurring his words and his face was flushed from alcohol, his sense of danger was way too low because he knew his beautiful little passive girlfriend could never harm him. You didn’t have any cursed energy nor would you even think about hurting him. You were desperately and pathetically in love with him after all. A pet. That was all you were. Nothing but a pet.

“Say that you love me, Satoru. Please.” You didn’t know why but your voice broke. Internally shaking your head, you put your beer can aside and turned to face him. “Please just… say it.”

“I love you?” he laughed at the way he said it. Even he didn’t believe in what he was saying. “Why are you whining like a puppy? You’re my girlfriend and you live with me, would I let you live with me if I didn’t love you?” He drank his second glass in one go as well but immediately after drinking it, he put a hand against his head. A sharp pain was drilling into the side of his head, everything started to spin. “Argh, I think… I think I need to lay down.” He stood up and stumbled forward. “L-let’s go to bed.”

His pulse had quickened, he could feel his own heart hammering through his chest as you held him by his arm and led him towards his bedroom.

“You know, Satoru,” you started, a chuckle escaping from you as you loosened your hold around him. “Even a neglected puppy would bite its owner.”

He slapped a hand on his face, the spinning was getting worse and worse. “(n-name)?” His voice was filled with worry, “Don’t leave me, I think I’m going to fall.” He held onto you helplessly, wobbling from side to side.

It would be impossible for anyone else to make sense out of his drunken slurring and mumbling but you understood him the best.

“I’m here,” you said, pushing him towards the bed.

Gojo passed out on the bed with a smile.

You threw yourself next to him and hesitantly lifted your hand to caress his face. “I’ll always be here.”

Your hand touched the warm skin of his face, using your thumb you rubbed gentle circles over his cheek. Eyelashes fluttered in response to your soft touch. He looked angelic when he was sleeping.

Placing your hand on his forehead, you combed your fingers through his hair to push his hair back.

You were both wrecks who happened to crash into each other, you could see that he needed you in his life because he was tired of being alone. Terrified of the silence of the house, wanting to fill it with your cheerful voice.

“Will you always be there for me too?” you asked, knowing that he wasn’t going to give you an answer but still foolishly looking at him with admiration and waiting for him to reply with a ‘yes'.

You dove your other hand into the pocket of his pants and pulled his phone out. There weren't any texts or calls in his notifications. Nobody cared about him. Nobody liked him. Nobody would tolerate him.

He was an arrogant man-child who only happened to be born into the Gojo family, blessed with powers no other person could estimate how strong they were.

Nobody wanted to be around him unless it was business, he had no friends. Nobody needed him. When people needed him it was solely because they needed his help in defeating a curse.

Others needed him because he was Satoru Gojo .

You needed him because he was Satoru Gojo.

All he had to do to keep you was to prove it to you.

You had to do it.

~~~

The bed was creaking and the springs in the mattress were squeaking in a steady rhythm.

Gojo couldn’t open his eyes yet but he could somewhat feel the tingling in his lower body. Something was coiling in his stomach, it was a familiar feeling of an orgasm. He clearly was having a wet dream. Ahh, whichever babe he was fucking had a sopping wet cunt. The squelching sounds were delicious. It was like music to his ears. But then his brows furrowed and he turned his head on his pillow when he heard your gasped moans. Why were you here?

Ahh, right.

You were his girlfriend.

He blinked once and twice, his vision was still blurry. His entire body felt feverish and it took him the last bits of the energy he had within him to open his eyes. He noted to the back of his head to never drink hard liquor again.

A sharp pain made his mouth pop open.

Something was wrong. Something was terribly wrong.

Your voice reached him, your needy moans, and the feeling of your tiny hands on his stomach. He could feel your warmth wrapping around his cock but there was something else, foreign.

“Satoruuu,” you moaned, angling your hips just right and clenching around him.

He started smiling, humming in delight. Sometimes even a girl like you knew what a guy needed after a long day. His mouth opened but no noise would come out. Ugh, he was numb all over. Alcohol was scary.

You were bouncing on his cock and moving your hips, doing the ultimate combo attack for his poor cock. Haha, at least after two weeks you had learned how to use your hips to please him. He was proud of himself for forging you to become the perfect girl he desired. It was for the best, he was getting old and needed someone waiting for him at home so he would feel less lonely. Everyone around him was growing up, which made him feel empty inside. As immature he was, Gojo could never become the adult everyone expected him to be when he was never raised properly as a child.

Pampered, spoiled, and told to be the best thing in the world as a child had gotten into his head.

He believed he was the strongest and he actually was the strongest. The strongest jujutsu sorcerer.

“(name),” he mumbled, a tired smile tugging at his lips as he was trying to keep his eyes open to look at your flushed face. “That feels so good.”

You were grinning down at him, moving your hips passionately to a rhythm only you could hear. “It does?”

“Ye-ah!” His groan broke into a moan and he lifted his hand up towards your face for no other reason than to squeeze your cheeks together until your lips puckered and you looked at him with that helpless expression on your face but that didn’t happen.

A continuous clicking sound filled his ears, just like a zipper being undone.

He saw you lift your arm above your head with something in your hand, it was yellow and silver. You swung your arm towards his hand with a giggle. “Does it feel good?”

Gojo was confused as to why you would ask him the same question twice, were you also drunk?

Scoffing, he focused his attention on the strange feeling of warmth inside of his palm. With visible confusion he stared at the hand he had reached out for you and saw red. The dark red liquid was oozing out of a nasty gore. It was blood, he realized, his blood.

There was a moment of disbelief as his now wide-open eyes landed on your delirious expression. You were still bouncing on his cock but blood had splattered across your pretty face, giving you the most manic appearance he had ever seen on a woman. “W-what are you doing?”

“We’re making love!” you exclaimed in crazed delight.

You looked intoxicated and terrifying. Wait no… this was your real face.

Was he having a nightmare?

“Satoruuu,” you whined, bringing a box cutter covered in blood up to your lips and licking the blade clean, cutting your own tongue in the process. You were too lost in pleasure to feel the pain. “I love this look on your face.”

His limbs wouldn’t move and the headache from before… he couldn’t think normally. Dizzy and swimming inside his own thoughts, Gojo was completely helpless.

Infinity. He could- ah.

The sharp and unbearable pain abruptly stabbed him in the shoulder, metaphorically and literally. He was staring at the blade that was halfway into his flesh and the blood gushing out while you slammed yourself down onto his cock, your walls clamping on him.

“Stop!” he croaked, hating this feeling of being inferior to someone like you. “W-why are you-”

“Why?” you echoed in an exaggerated yet mocking exasperation. “Because you don’t love me! I need to hear it, Satoru. I need to hear it from your own little pathetic voice.”

“Have you lost your mind- ah-”

You moved your hips frenziedly and pulled the box cutter out from his flesh. More blood splattered across you, covering your bare chest and stomach while the bleeding wound started coloring his chest completely red with his blood.

His hand pressed over the wound desperately to help ease the sharp pain and hopefully stop the bleeding but he was weaker than weak. He couldn’t press hard enough to stop the flow.

The only person who could help him was smiling down at him as he squirmed in pain, bleeding furiously.

Helpless.

He was at your mercy.

“You won’t die, you know,” you barked out a laugh when you noticed the way he was glaring at you. “You can heal yourself, right? Maybe not now but later. Oh, maybe you can die. If I’m not careful. Maybe. Perhaps! Maybe!”

You had gone insane, that was the only logical explanation.

“(name),” he hissed, talking through his teeth with such anger you had never seen on him before. “Get off me.”

“Why do you always lie to me?” you asked, pointing the blade of the box cutter towards his face. “Am I just a pet to you? Do you even care about me?”

“What are you talking about?” He could move his legs but the feeling of his limbs hadn’t returned. If he could keep you busy long enough he could turn on infinity and throw you off but the headache that was making him dizzy and unable to think smoothly… he didn’t know if he could get rid of it.

“You’re cheating on me.”

Oh.

“(name).” A wave of despair washed all over him and he blurted out, “I would never do that to you, I love you more than anyone.”

This time what he said must have struck a chord because your smile disappeared. You furrowed your brows before talking and dropped the box cutter on the bed. “What?”

“I love you.” The sheets under him felt cold from the wetness of his blood.

You stared blankly at him. Then grinned before lifting your hips up and slamming down onto his rock-hard cock.

His ears started to ring from the pressure against his cock. He had been drugged, that was the only explanation for him still having this erection you were toying with inside your pussy.

“You don’t need to lie to me, there’s no need for you to try to lie to me to stop. We both know that I can’t kill you because I love you but... You can kill me whenever you want.” You stilled with his cock inside you and reached behind you to grab a lighter and a single cigarette. “I know you don’t like me one bit. I’m just a pet, something to wait for you at home and give you all of its attention. Something to stick your dick in whenever you want after you molded it into your own desired shape.”

He was speechless. All he could do was watch as you lit the cigarette.

“I could overlook you cheating on me if you actually tried to love me or care for me. I’m easy to please, unlike you. Flowers, kisses, and affectionate words, they would make me the happiest but you don’t care about anything unless it’s about you.” Taking a deep inhale from your cigarette, you straightened your posture and leaned back. “I asked you to promise to only love me. You didn’t keep your promise and now here we are. I’m rotting in this house and begging for your attention while you’re living your life.”

“You’re my only girlfriend,” he reassured. “(name), what I did was wrong but you can’t blame everything on me-”

“I’m not blaming anyone,” you exhaled softly. The butt of the cigarette was painted red from the blood on your fingers. “I’m just stating the truth.”

You were insane, he hadn’t realized it until now. Even if he broke up with you, he knew you would go after the women he went out with. No, you weren’t a murderer, not a killer. You wouldn’t harm someone else. But you had already slashed his hand and stabbed him...

The ringing in his ears grew louder as he felt your pussy pulsate around him. “I won’t cheat on you again.” He was going to dump you, drop you off of the side of the road somewhere in some distant country, leave you to die, just like an unwanted puppy.

“I know you won’t.” Your eyes glinted with dark amusement seconds before you looked between your bodies with a vicious grin, at his cock. “I’ll make sure of it.”

A cold shiver ran down his spine at the dark promise of your words. “Wait, wait, wait- (name), don’t do something you’ll regret-”

“Can you regrow limbs?”

Were you being serious? No. You had to be kidding.

“(name).” He growled, squirming to no avail. “This isn’t funny.”

You put the cigarette between your lips and took a drag, slowly exhaling as if you had all the time in the world. “Hmm, I don’t think I could cut it off. I like it, you know. I need it too.” Moving your hips, you felt his cock throb inside you, growing larger. How pathetic of him. “Your dick just got harder. You’re shameless, even now when I’m threatening to chop it off you got aroused because I said I loved it?”

“Why are you doing this? Don’t you feel bad after all the things we did together? That night under the stars?”

You didn’t react and continued smoking.

Men were all the same. They were just dogs. Desperate and miserable dogs. Dogs who lived to fuck bitches and fight other dogs to declare their strength. They wanted to feel feral, powerful, in charge, and free as if that was all there was to life.

That was all Gojo was. His existence was pathetic.

He could never be happy if he proceeded to live like this.

Only you could fix him.

“Let’s talk about this tomorrow once we’ve both calmed down, I’m not mad at you. I know how much I must’ve hurt you and-”

“You know what makes me so angry?” you grimaced, pointing your finger at your boyfriend. “Everyone kept looking at you from the day you were born but nobody likes you for who you are but for me. Yet you still can’t see that.”

He closed his eyes and took a shuddered breath, “You’re not even making any sense,” he sighed.

“Nobody will tolerate you like I do. Isn’t that why you chose me? Isn’t that why you brought me here? Because you won’t get genuine attention and affection from anyone else?” The silence gave you the answer. You took the last drag of your cigarette and stubbed the lit tip out on his abdomen. It sizzled and deformed the skin it was directly being pressed on as a small cloud of smoke rose from his skin bubbling from the burn. “You’re not treasured by anyone but me, Satoru.”

Gojo felt the hairs on the back of his neck stiffen. His body grew cold, stomach dropping but the pain didn’t reach him. He couldn’t feel anything but your walls squeezing around his girth.

“You’re worshipped because you’re Satoru Gojo A member of the Gojo family. I worship you because you’re my boyfriend Satoru .” You grabbed him by the back of his knees and pushed them up until they were positioned against his chest before you mounted him. “I did everything as you told me, I shaped myself into the perfect girl you wanted and I don’t understand why it wasn’t enough.”

You leaned forward, both hands gracefully wrapping around his neck as you lifted yourself up and slowly eased down on his cock with an added shake of your hips. He moaned in response to your movement.

The two of you locked eyes, his own were wide from terror while yours were clouded with ominous desire but something else was hidden behind it. Gojo couldn’t forebode what you were planning next but as soon as you squeezed your hands around his neck with all your might, he knew.

You were claiming your own power against him… involuntarily.

There were tears in your eyes but you continued fucking him, proceeded to choke him with little to no success.

Gojo got bigger inside you, his eyes rolled to the back of his head. What a deplorable little girl. Weak and helpless, doing all of this to prove a dumb point. Erotic. Pitiful.

A moan escaped you, he was now filling you up with no gaps. The snarky look on his face spurred you on. You planted your entire weight on his throat with your hands and started moving your hips frantically. The squelching noises of his cock going in and out of your pussy masked the gurgling sound coming from him choking on his own spit.

His eyes snapped open, his hands weakly grabbed your wrists to lift your hands up but he couldn’t grip them properly. His wounded hand was shaking violently while bleeding non-stop, the blood coming from his gash trickled down your wrist and onto his neck.

Gojo’s entire torso was painted with blood, his beautiful snow white hair had turned and clumpy from the dried blood, making him look like an erotic grotesque painting you had seen somewhere. Painted with hatred and love. Each stroke of the brush could be seen carrying the artist's frustrations and their passion. What a sight, it was gorgeous.

You grinned wildly, the sight of blood excited you.

As you were laughing hysterically, your cunt was squeezing around him at the same time you were using your entire weight to crush his windpipe. It didn't matter how sticky and disgusting the blood was making you feel anymore. You were bouncing on his cock like there was no tomorrow.

His mouth opened and you watched as the saliva that was pooling in his mouth started gushing out and trickling down from his chin. He was drooling all over himself while getting choked, hah! What a sick pervert!

You were no different though.

What should have been a gross sight made your walls tighten and more of your slick juice came out, coating his cock inside you with the natural lube. He twitched between your walls, he was enjoying this way more than you did.

“I will make you happy,” you said, bouncing on him and letting out cute moans. “And you will make me happy.”

He couldn’t reply, not when he was choking on his own drool. You pulled your hands back and placed them on the back of his knees again, using them to your leverage to shake your hips harder.

Gojo started coughing, greedily inhaling air and attempting to hold back his moans. All of his senses had heightened, he could feel every single beat of your heart with each time your pussy throbbed against his cock.

He squirmed under you, throwing his head from side to side and trying to regain some of his pride by refusing to look you in the eye while you were continuing to fuck him. It was humiliating. He wasn’t going to let you get away with any of this. Never.

Even if he was never going to have a warm meal waiting for him at home. Even if someone wasn’t going to wait for him to come home. Even if he was going to sleep in his cold bed alone. Even if it meant that this welcoming home was going to turn into an empty house…

Did he really want that?

“We’ll be the perfect couple. We’ll make it work.” When you slammed your hips forward, you saw his toes curl and grinned. “Everything's up to you, Satoru. I will play my part and all you have to do is to play yours.”

Like a dollhouse, playing pretend. You were going to pretend something you were not to meet his expectations and he was going to do the same.

Right?

“Right?” you asked, pushing his knees closer towards his chest and mounting him fully. Your tightening walls caught him by surprise in this position, his poor, abused cock throbbed uselessly and spurted his load inside your cunt. He bit back his pleasure-filled moan, averting his eyes from you. However, you spoke with an audible moan, breathless. “Riiiight, Satooruu?”

He didn’t respond as he was too busy continuing to cum inside you. Once he was done, you lifted your hips to take him out of you, making a show of him to watch his cum ooze out of your pussy. He didn’t even look though.

With a sigh you leaned forward, letting go of his legs and throwing yourself next to him on the blood-covered sheets to repeat your question. “You’ll play your part, right?”

A grim pause.

Everything had been up to his standards up until now and tonight had been his fault. Yet even after all he had done, you were ready to forgive him, wash his sins away and devote yourself to him again.

He knew you loved him blindly and all he had to do was to play his part of a loving boyfriend to keep playing this house game with you.

That was the least he could do for all of your troubles. For all the times you cut a piece of yourself up and threw it away for him. For the way he made you feel unwanted. For you.

But that wasn’t the whole truth, he was only a pathetic man. A lonely man craving affection and unconditional love from someone pretty enough to be fuckable who worshipped him like a God.

He needed this to feel good about himself. He could throw you away if he wanted but he didn’t want to. Not anymore. Not when you had been forged into the perfect little house pet he could ever ask for.

He was going to stay and play his part.

Gojo turned to face you fully and gave you one single nod.

Now, the happiest moments of your life had actually begun and you were the happiest person alive.

You smiled without showing your teeth as he liked, your lips covered with dried blood looked gorgeous under the dim light of the night lamp. He couldn’t help but mirror your smile with his own messed-up face covered in his blood, snot, and drool.

He grabbed your hand that was the closest to him and held it tightly as he told you something you had been dying to hear.

“I love you.”

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #i love 'romance' stories that start all cute and pure before spiraling into madness #i enjoyed writing this and good luck figuring out who was perceived as me and whatnot idk i'm tired

251 notes · View notes

pa-panda-heroes · 4 years

Note

heya! how about a scenario where shiggy accidentally hurts the reader with his quirk and like, freak tf out? angsts with lots and lots of fluff, please! ty! ♥︎

Okokok imma do my best for my first angst!! Also I added Dabi because I got a request for him a while back and I’ve wanted to write him for a bit, now <3 hope that’s okay!

I think this was a bit longer for a scenario but... I enjoyed writing it so :>

Warnings: language, mentions of violence(? Eh...)

Tomura/Dabi accidentally hurt reader with their quirks!

Tomura:

It happened accidentally. You knew that. Right? It wasn’t his fault, but his damn quirk’s fault, the one that he never asked for and the one that never allowed anyone to get close. Rather, he never let anyone get close because of it. He’ll admit he was always proud of its destructive capability as a villain, but now that it had hurt you, he wish he’d never boasted to a soul.

Twenty-three times. He had called you twenty-three times. And twenty-three times you didn’t answer. What was he to do, now? There was no stopping the decay borne from his fingertips once it had set in, and considering you wouldn’t answer your phone... it didn’t look good. Kurogiri had whisked you away before Tomura could even utter an apology, which looked to him as though Kurogiri did so in order for him not to witness your death. Kurogiri told him something about a doctor, but Tomura figured him a liar.

He couldn’t breathe. You shouldn’t have been hurt. Literally. Tomura hadn’t so much as touched you with a single finger; if anything, he was trying to protect you from the stranger grabbing you. It happened so fast, all he remembered was his quirk activating and the stranger vanishing before he heard your cry of pain and saw the skin of your arm drying out, much like he had done to that hero at U.S.J. He couldn’t tell, but it somewhat looked as though the decay was limited to just your bicep. That could’ve been hopeful thinking, of course, and he knew it.

So he sat there, all alone and hunched over on the couch in the bar, with misery and dread coursing his veins, accelerating his blood pressure to concerning levels. He had nothing to look at but his shaking palms and red shoes as he tried to even out his breathing - to no avail. Then, he felt the weight of someone sitting next to him, and instantly recognized how far the cushion next to him sunk in. And yet, he couldn’t look at you.

“Thanks for that back there,” you say quietly, afraid to startle him, but you recieve no response. “Y’know, I’m not sure what would’ve happened if my knight in shining armor hadn’t showed up!” You knew he felt guilty. Why wouldn’t he? But he shouldn’t. You wanted to convince him of that.

“Didn’t go far, huh,” you hear him mumble, nodding his head to your bandaged left arm next to him. There was no life to his voice and before you can say anything, he speaks again. “It won’t happen again. You’re not coming around anymore.”

“Hey, wait! That’s not your-“

“I’m the leader, and I say so! You can stay in the League, but you can’t... be close to me. You’ll get hurt.”

You stand up in defiance and put your hands on your hips in defense. “I’m not leaving you! First of all, I can take care of myself. Second, look at the League. We have a bloodthirsty serial killer and a cynical pyromaniac constantly lounging about, and you’re worried about some one-in-a-million freak accident happening again?” Patience was key with Tomura, and you knew that, but he could be stubborn and unreasonable, and when it came to you, stubbornly, unreasonably protective. “Besides, with the world as it is, I could get hurt doing something as mundane as taking out the trash, like I was when I was attacked!”

He finally looked at you, the look of a whipped pup on his face and while you knew he wasn’t doing it on purpose, you felt guilty for raising your voice at him. You sigh quietly and sit back down next to him, reaching for his hand and settling for his knee when he yanked it away. You snuck your arm around his shoulders and plopped your cheek on his shoulder, knowing all too well he would welcome it despite his standoffishness - and he did. Tomura didn’t pull away or push you off. But he hid his face. Your fingers on his left shoulder rubbed at it, his clavicle prominent enough you almost cringed at how thin he was. Your other hand on his leg idly toyed with the seam of his jeans, not having anything better to do.

“I’m sorry.” It was unclear as to whether he was apologizing for hurting you, or for demanding you keep your distance from him. Either way, it was undoubtedly genuine and soft.

You sat up straight and hugged your leader and lover from the side, gliding your fingers through his hair as you gently guided it to you. He hesitated slightly before burying his head into your chest and latching onto your ribcage for dear life, muttering the weakest “Don’t go, please,” anyone has ever heard. The desperation and vulnerability in his voice elicited your arms to wrap around him in a tight, warm embrace, your chin digging into his hair when you peck it, again and again and again. You stifled a giggle at how soft and ticklish his hair felt, electing to gently shush him.

“I just told you, didn’t I? I’m not going anywhere, even if you tell me to. I love you, silly.”

Dabi:

Dabi let out every curse known to mankind - and then some - as he rushed over to you, the bastard thugs the two of you had been after now burning alive and falling to the street. He would have sworn on his life you were not within range of his flames, and yet here you were, on the ground clutching your burnt leg and cringing away the searing tears of pain. Maybe you didn’t see him readying the attack and charged in? Maybe one of those thugs diverted his attack? He wasn’t sure.

“Y/n-“

What little color he had in his face drains completely, and his fingertips are already trembling.

“Dabi, I’m fine,” you tried to assure him. “It’s not that bad! I’ll just need a little first aid.” It hurt like hell, a white-hot, pulsating pain, you couldn’t lie. You just weren’t going to tell him that. It stretched from just below your knee to a hand’s length above your ankle and covered only the side of your leg, thankfully. The affected area was an awfully dark pink and honestly, it was hard to look at.

He practically scoffed at you. “Y/n, you’re fucking burnt. Don’t tell me that shit.” From the look on his face, it seemed bad.

That was the most cross he’d ever been with you, despite his brash and vulgar nature, and you couldn’t help but retreat a little as he knelt down to you and pulled his phone out of his pocket to make a call. “Y/n’s hurt, get us to the bar or something.” He grabbed your leg - surprisingly gently - and seemed to examine it. He paused as if to listen to the other end. “She’s burnt, does it matter? Just get us the hell out of here.” He must’ve called Kurogiri, as the next thing you know there’s a warp tunnel summoned next to you.

You tried standing on your own to leave, but the burn decided it didn’t want you to do so, and so you dropped back to the ground and bit your lip at the shockwaves of pain crawling up your leg. Dabi said nothing and helped you up himself, grabbing your arm and side to help you walk through the warp. Once through, he set you down on the couch, still eerily quiet, and left you there. The pain was so bad at this point, you began to think you’d faint, your head feeling fuzzy as tears run down your cheeks.

The stapeled villain returns with a bucket of ice water, towels, and what looks to be a first aid kit. But he stops for a second when he sees you hunched over with a death grip on your knee and the seat beneath you, and it takes all he has to hold it the fuck together. He’s unreasonably angry, and he’s not sure why. He wants to tell and scream, maybe at you, maybe not, he’s not sure. His quirk’s only quality was destructiveness. It was damaging not only to his enemies but also to his own body - and now, you.

He hurt you. Accident or not, he hurt you. The lump in his throat was suffocating.

Dabi knelt down and soaked a towel in the cold water before wringing it wordlessly, then gently tapping it to your leg and pulling back when you hiss. He seemed to notice it but didn’t outwardly acknowledge it and contintued to use the cold towel on your burn. As more time passed, the more convinced he became that it was a second-degree burn, meaning the second layer of your skin, the dermis, was badly burnt. He had no doubt it would scar, and at the thought the breath was pulled from his lungs. Dabi muttered a curse and suddenly rested his forehead against your knee, his right hand holding the cool towel to your leg.

“I’m sorry. It’s all my fault, fuck.” His voice was low, and if you looked hard enough, you could hear that it was forced out through a tense throat. He was nearly in tears, wasn’t he? He wasn’t an overly emotional person by any means, but the fact that his quirk hurt you, with its history, it hurt worse than if you would’ve left him for a hero. He hated himself. His quirk didn’t have a single redeeming quality, and he began to think the same of himself.

“Dabi, don’t, okay? I’ll be fine, really.” You can’t help how weak your voice sounds, being in so much pain, but you nonetheless plant a hand in his hair and rub his scalp.

Dabi lifts his head to look at you, and the look in his eyes isn’t something you’ve seen before. His free hand comes up to rest on your thigh, and you can feel it shaking. “It might scar, y/n. Don’t you get that?”

You huff. “So? If it does, I’d be pretty cool with that, all puns intended,” you try to giggle at your own pun and can practically feel him rolling his eyes, “Besides, I’d kinda match you, wouldn’t I? It’ll be like a couple’s tattoo sort of thing!”

He rests his chin atop your knee and a look that only be described as a pout crosses his features, but he says nothing and you can only smile. Dabi deadpans when you say nothing, forcing yourself to beam at him with bright eyes and a smile. “You’re a weird one, ya know that?” he muttered.

“You’re even weird for falling in love with me,” you teased after he began to work on your leg again.

“Pfft.”

#mha #mha scenarios #mha x reader #shigaraki x reader #dabi x reader #shigaraki tomura #dabi #scenarios #angst #comfort / fluff #at the end!#hope you enjoy <3 #i did my best!#edited because tumblr desktop is a silly bean and wont do color text for me

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nanaminokanojo · 3 years

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Happenstance | Kamo Noritoshi

CHARACTERS: Kamo Noritoshi X You CHAPTER COUNT: 1/1 WORD COUNT: 2,287 GENRE: fluff | school au | archer!noritoshi | described reader appearance (i think) TRIGGER WARNING: very mild implied sleeping princess syndrome (somnophilia?) SPOILERS: n/a

collection masterlist

📸 photo credits to @/kawaiimallows22 on Pinterest

Sports fest – an idle time for most but to the athletes of the school.

Kamo Noritoshi was one of them, an archer for the school team and currently representing class two-six. It was a jovial time for most as there weren’t any homeroom activities, but to him, it was yet another one of those boring days in school. It wasn’t new to him nor was it a rare chance for him to get to play unlike the other students as almost every month, he’d join inter-school competitions, most of which were a piece of cake to him. He’d been slinging a bow and arrow since he was five after all. They were the best team there ever was to grace the school grounds and unless they graduate from the institution, there was no way they’d be beaten. It was routine, thus the boredom.

He glanced at his watch. It read exactly half past two. The game he was supposed to be in was already starting, but instead of being in the archery range to shoot some arrows, he was wandering inside the school building, particularly that of the freshmen’s area. It was way quieter there than the other places in the area since all of the students on that floor were excited for the games unlike the upper-class students who found the events of the day tedious. He couldn’t agree more with them. He couldn’t understand why there were such frivolous events apart from the necessary ones. They were of no importance to him and since his class had gotten into the finals, he wasn’t needed anymore.

He treaded his way through the quiet hallways, his footsteps echoing. The surroundings were quite eerie especially that the green glow from the sunlight which was being filtered by the ostentatious greenhouse cast itself across the pristine white walls. He walked the length of the plant conservatory where a few meters of turf had been laid out as a part of the semi-indoor landscape when a strange figure caught his eyes. His stroll halted as he turned on his heels to see what it was, pressing closer to the glass wall with his curiosity overriding him. He squinted, adjusting his vision to the brighter light.

On the grass, he could make out the shape of a person, lying down as if unconsciousness caught them in the middle of a promenade. He arched a brow when he noticed a glistening tuft of long hair on the grass. It was female student – you specifically. Alarmed, he ran back to where the entrance to the greenhouse was and frantically searched for you, thinking you were injured or ailing. He found you on the same spot. Hoping that you were fine, he knelt down beside you. You were lying on your side, your back to him, vulnerable to every single danger that the school grounds could expose you to.

“What are you doing here?” Noritoshi whispered to himself. Ever so carefully, he tried to turn you over so he could at least recognize you. He noticed your hand which held a crimson cravat. A senior, he thought. What was a senior doing at the freshmen’s area? He smirked. Then again, he was a junior and he was there.

Even after you turned over so you were lying on your back, your luxuriant tresses covered your face like a veil. Sucking in air, he reached over, but before he could even touch you, you began stirring. Your hands reached over to your face and brushed your hair absently from your face. A soft sigh escaped your mouth, the creases on your forehead caused by the disturbance slowly smoothing into a peaceful mask as your breathing steadied, your chest rising and falling at an even pace.

Noritoshi scrambled back, frowning when he realized that you hadn’t fainted. You were deliberately there, sleeping. He smiled in amusement, about to leave when a soft breeze managed to make its way through the open vents of the glass dome, rustling the vegetation along with the your dark hair. Suddenly, he found himself taken by the sight of you slumbering before his feet. Your lean, long legs were slightly bent to the right, barely concealed by the short skirt that was your uniform which clung to your hips deliberately, tracing your delicate contours.

His eyes trailed upwards to your face, cheeks lightly flushed and glowing with a healthy tinge of faded roses, lashes thick enough to cast shadows on your cheeks and lips that were the shade of cherries, slightly fuller on the lower part, all framed by sable hair that had lush curls near the tips, scattered on the grassy ground in reckless abandon. You were beautiful…like a garden nymph.

He was enthralled, no other words. He found himself unable to move, wondering where he had seen such a face. He doubted it that you’ve encountered each other since he never really went to the senior department. Aside from that, he never bothered to look at the people in the school long enough in all his two years stay in the institution unless he had something to do with them. He blinked slowly. For the first time, he found himself breathless for someone and he wasn’t expecting that he’d see it in an unconscious girl in the greenhouse.

Thump. Thump.

He swallowed hard, feeling his heart racing the more he stared at the nameless goddess in front of him. With his body finding a mind of its own, he found himself leaning over you until your faces were but a measly inch away from each other. Slowly, his eyes began to droop until they closed, making his lips touch with your slightly open ones. He’d never had the urge to kiss someone so badly and now that he had the chance, you weren’t even responding. He relished the feel of your mouth against his, yielding and soft like candy floss to the slightest of pressures.

What are you doing attacking an unconscious person? Isn’t that cowardly, a nagging voice in his head said, making him snap out of it. He inched away from your sleeping figure and swallowed hard, shaking his head, eyes wide when he realized what he just did. It was so uncommon for him to be losing his mind over anyone. I didn’t just do that.

He glanced at the you, trying to clear his head. He sat down on the grass just beside you, looking up. Frustration took over him, chastising himself for the recklessness of his actions. He thought of how it would look like if the you actually woke up and caught him red-handed. He shrugged the thought off, just glad that you didn’t.

Minutes turned to hours and he still stayed there. The urge to protect you was strong and yet he wasn’t really protecting you, was he? What if it was your first kiss? How he dreaded the thought that he stole it and he didn’t even know whether you liked it or not. He felt loathing for himself when he realized that he was as good as an offender, harassing the you while you slept.

His eyes made its way towards the your tranquil form again and to his surprise, your eyes were open, hazel ones that reflected the canopy of leaves above you. You looked rather disoriented, but even as your vision wandered to him, clear and bright under the afternoon sun, enhancing your features, you exhibited no surprise.

His guilt took the best of him and made him inch away from you, watching as you stretched your arms and blinked sleepily. You pushed yourself up and regarded him with a sleepy smile.

Finally, the goddess spoke. “To what do I owe the honor?” you asked.

Puzzled, Noritoshi shook his head slowly. “Excuse me?”

You sighed, but was happy to repeat yourself. “I said –”

Noritoshi was torn between laughter and frowning. “I heard what you said, but…”

You giggled a bit, narrowing your eyes at him before covering your mouth to yawn. “Now I know why girls fawn over you.”

His brows shot up. “Excuse me?” he said, this time with more edge to it.

Your eyes widened a bit and you fidgeted with your cravat, your shoulders tensing. You winced, returning his gaze with your left eye closed and your right eye slightly squinting. “Shouldn’t have said that.”

Noritoshi shook his head. “No… You don’t get it…”

You relaxed. “What don’t I get?” You lightly scratched the back of your head. “Sorry. I just woke up…er…which you already knew.” You shook your head and rubbed at your eyes.

His head tilted to the side. “You know me.”

At that, you burst into bubbles of laughter. “School team archer, Kamo Noritoshi, who outshines the captain? Who wouldn’t?”

His heart fluttered. The fact that you knew him made him feel glad and guilty at the same time. You knew him and with beauty like yours, he couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that he never noticed you before. He shrugged, your words finally sinking in and he momentarily forgot about what he did. “Not really…”

“And yet I hear rumors about you having to hide in the men’s lavatory because a mob is chasing after you. You’ve got to be kidding me.” You straightened up. “Come on. No need to be humble.” You were easy-going and cheerful, that much he’d figured out. And you also liked to talk. You apologized for your comments and asked, “What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be playing?”

He flashed you a half smile. “I didn’t want to.” He shrugged then. “What about you? Aren’t you supposed to be cheering for your class?”

You blew a raspberry. “I’d rather sleep.”

“Figures.”

You stood up. “I’m going home. Nice talking to you.” You began to make your way out of the greenhouse, waving with your cravat. “See you around.”

Noritoshi stood up and before he could even realize what he was doing, he seized you by the wrist, stopping your progress. You turned around and eyed his hand on yours which he quickly withdrew. “Sorry,” he said breathlessly.

You smiled. “It’s fine. Do you need anything?”

“Your name…” he mumbled.

“Pardon?”

He looked up. “Your name. I…uh…I didn't catch it.”

Your eyes twinkled as you chuckled. “I didn’t mention it.”

Noritoshi’s face heated up and he didn’t need a mirror to tell how badly he was blushing. He looked down.

You bent down slightly. “Are you alright? You’re red,” you said, a confirmation of his thoughts.

He nodded. “Yes. I-it’s hot…that’s all.”

You giggled. “It’s Y/N.”

“Huh?”

“My name is L/N Y/N.”

Y/N. Pretty. He nodded. “L/N Y/N. Thank you. It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s just Y/N,” you half-whined and pouted a bit. “Do you want me to call you *kohai?”

He shook his head, feeling the slightest annoyance when you suggested it. “N-no.”

“Then call me Y/N and I’ll call you…”

“Idiot?” he said absently, shook his head upon realization and chuckled awkwardly. “I’m kidding.”

“Noritoshi?” you offered, the way his name rolled out of your tongue making him want to hear it more.

“Okay.”

“Noritoshi it is. Bye, Noritoshi.”

You started to walk away again, but he realized it was his chance to make it up to you although you didn’t know what has happened. “Y/N.”

You turned on your heels and looked at him. “Yes?”

“Mind if I walk you home?” he blurted out.

You took his hand. “Not at all, but we should get going before your fan girls start chasing after me.”

Noritoshi chuckled and led the way. You both exited the gate and you just directed him to where you were going, your shoulders touching from time to time as you walked. You didn’t live far from the school just a few blocks and soon, the of you were standing in front of a dainty-looking house with two floors surrounded with lawn and fences the color of faded limes.

“This is me,” you said. “Thank you.”

“Uh…”

“Do you want to walk me to my door?” you asked, voicing Noritoshi’s thoughts out.

“S-sure.”

You chuckled. “Are you always this articulate?”

He chuckled along with you, suppressing the urge to smile like an idiot until you’ve reached the door.

“Thank you,” you said again.

“You’re welcome and…”

You clasped your hands behind you and tilted sideways, your hair falling over your shoulder like it had a life of its own. “And?”

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“Nothing.”

You frowned slightly. “Whatever it is, it’s fine.”

Noritoshi placed a hand behind his neck. “I’m going.”

“Okay, but before that, I’m sorry, too.”

“Huh?” He was confused.

“I’m sorry for this.” Without warning, you wrapped your arms around his neck, stood on your toes and let your lips meet in a bold kiss.

Noritoshi’s eyes widened, but he’d soon grown accustomed to your lips which he already kissed while you were sleeping. Chills ran up and down his spine, as the urgency in your kiss heightened from just a simple contact to a kind of potent wanting. His arm found its way around your waist, holding you closer, not caring if anyone saw you as long as he was happy where he was at the moment.

He was still dazed by the time you pulled back, but contrary to his expectation for you to move further away, you leaned closer to his ear and said, “Naughty Noritoshi stealing a kiss from sleeping Y/N.”

He froze. You knew.

Finally you stood back from him, gave him one last peck on the cheek and winked at him as you opened the front door. “See you at the greenhouse, kiss thief.”

-END-

TERMINOLOGIES:

*kohai (後輩) junior i.e. a person of lower grade/class/age (in school/at work) to the speaker

@fushigummy You asked, I delivered. XD did I do the man justice?

Thank you so much for reading. Likes, comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated! Hope you enjoyed it.

PHOTO/IMAGE/GIF/FANART CREDITS TO THE RESPECTIVE OWNERS.

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zevexsii · 3 years

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norton campbell sfw + nsfw hcs (gn s/o)

holy shit i love norton campbell

cut for length!

norton’s a very complicated guy. he’s seen some shit, done some shit, and quite frankly hates most of the world around him. not because he actually thinks it’s bad- he just pushes away everything and everyone he cares about as a defense mechanism.

he wouldn’t necessarily realize that he was developing feelings for his s/o right off the bat- he’d get closer and closer to them without actually thinking about the butterflies that your smile gave him or the protective urges that enveloped most of his critical thinking skills during matches.

it really depends on how easily you open up to him. especially if you’re emotionally available early on. i doubt he would entirely open up to you about the mining incident, or even about the root of any of his problems, but if you were there on norton’s bad days to calm him down or let him vent, he’ll fall head over heels for you even quicker.

not particularly talkative. norton doesn’t really know how to keep a conversation going and deflect too-personal questions at the same time, so most days he just enjoys sitting with you.

right before The ConfessionTM, norton begins to isolate himself more than usual. he does his best to avoid you at mealtimes, will ditch matches that you’re both playing in, paying no mind to the consequences. it’s hard for him to even look at you without losing his composure- either spacing out and making heart eyes in your direction or having graphic thoughts of your death at his hands. it would be accidental, of course. he’d lash out and hurt you; make a mistake in a match and leave you bloody.

if you seek him out, it might make it worse; he’ll probably snap at you, but he can’t hold up his apathetic front for long. he breaks down as you turn to leave, grabbing for your hand or your wrist. he hangs his head and asks you not to go in a low, hoarse whisper. he’s sniffling.

this is the first time norton would seek out physical comfort from you. his movements are shaky and apprehensive as he tugs you closer to him- depending on where you managed to corner him, norton’ll ask to sit down and be held by way of burying his face in the crook of your neck. he’s terrified you’re going to pull away the entire time.

indulge him. gently card your fingers through his messy, dark hair or rub gentle circles onto his back and he might cry. poor guy’s repressed to hell and back.

norton’s feelings for you are quite obvious at this point, but he needs to make sure to let you know, just in case. when he says that he’s in love with you, he’s breathless and the words are harried. if he’s able to look at you at all, his brown eyes are anxious and searching- begging for an answer, even if it’s one that would destroy him completely. he doesn’t really expect you to reciprocate his affections- he’s high maintenance at the very least in his own eyes.

when you tell him that you love him too, norton is awestruck. he has to verify that he heard you correctly- tell him again and he lets out a watery chuckle proceeded by a shit-eating grin.

hold onto him a little while longer. he needs it.

now that norton’s confessed and you’re officially together, his behavior towards you in public doesn’t change too much- in lobbies before matches or mealtimes he lingers by you, keeping up a low conversation about mundane things. he’s unsurprisingly uninterested in pda, except for special occasions.

in private, there are a lot of casual, domestic touches. norton’s inclined to come up and wrap his arms around you from behind, or rest a hand on the small of your back as you’re working away at a task.

adores forehead/cheek kisses. the simple things make him soft beyond belief. deep, passionate kisses are usually reserved for when things are getting hot n’ heavy, plus they trigger norton’s claustrophobia very easily. norton normally despises any sort of attention drawn to his scars- they’re a massive insecurity of his, not to mention the horrible reminder of his past that they bring up, but if you give him small smooches on his upper cheek, or the border between scarred flesh and his normal tan, he’ll melt.

can cook surprisingly well! norton’s been alone for the great majority of his life- not to mention he lived with a bunch of bachelors, so he knows the basics. however, anything you make will be devoured within seconds. really enjoys sweets!! uses excess frosting on your lips or cheek as an excuse to kiss you <33

is a pretty big eater!! norton’s a beefy guy and he tells you that he’s gotta keep himself strong in order to protect you <3 he’s also got a phat ass

norton’s a bit clueless when it comes to asking for cuddles; he’ll just sort of drape himself over you or mumble about being tired, hoping you’ll take the hint. on bad days, he doesn’t even want to get out of bed. everything’s just too much, he hopes you’ll understand.

let norton rest his head in your lap or hide his face in your shoulder. sometimes it’s humiliating for him to let you see him like this- hold him close and gently play with his hair or intertwine your fingers in his. actions like that help ground norton.

coo soft things in his ears. tell him you love him, that it isn’t his fault. that you’ll stay with him no matter what. these reassurances in particular help combat his overwhelming abandonment issues.

on regular days, norton’s favorite cuddle positions are probably those that involve you laying your head on his broad chest, or him holding you from behind.

very outdoorsy! go on walks with him and he’ll point out interesting rocks and the two of you will pocket geodes to take home and crack open. offer norton small things that you found on the way home, or gems that you pilfered from the golden cave map. it may not seem like a lot, but realizing that you care enough about norton to remember the small things that he enjoys makes him feel endlessly loved.

i can’t stress enough how much norton appreciates domesticity. dude’s had a rough life, at this point he just wants to settle down in a stable place with someone who loves him, hopefully with a few kids, if his s/o is up for that!

nsfw

norton is practically a connoisseur of intense, rough sex. as mentioned above, he’s got a lot of repressed shit to deal with and most of his more ‘vulnerable’ emotions are turned into anger. unhealthy coping mechanisms go brrrrr.

needless to say, it’s best to use a safeword with norton.

that’s not to say he doesn’t enjoy slow, passionate stuff- most days he’s perfectly happy to bury himself inside you however you need.

during slow, soft sex, norton prefers to be ridden. it allows him to sit back and revel in the pleasure of being fucked by his lovely, lovely s/o.

his fear of abandonment also comes into play during sex. he’ll get you begging for his cock, whimpering uncontrollably about how badly you need him inside of you. deep down, norton yearns to be needed by someone.

not the most vocal partner, but lets loose a plethora of gasps and grunts once he’s got your tight hole stretched around him- most dirty talk consists of half-formed, growled curses that go straight south.

always preps you with oral. he doesn’t care how ready you are for his dick, he needs to finish you off with his mouth first. norton’s definition of finishing you off consists of bruising and biting all over your hips and upper thighs before moving on to rub a calloused finger over your clit or give light strokes to your cock, paying special attention to the vein running along the underside. by the time he’s done, you’ll have cum at least twice and that’s if norton’s rushing it.

unsurprisingly addicted to marking you. nothing riles norton up more than watching you interact with the other survivors while they frantically try to ignore the bruises and hickeys that have crawled up your neck and right under your jawline. if said survivor glances to norton afterward, he’ll toss a sleazy smirk in their direction. you’re fucking him and everyone knows it.

not really a fan of missionary. norton’s partial to fucking you from behind and leaving small scratches and bruises from how tightly his massive hands grabbed your hips.

he’s a thigh and an ass guy. ‘nuff said. he doesn’t have anything against boobs, though!

won’t introduce choking or restraining you- norton wants to revel in every little twitch and movement you make while he shoves himself between your thighs. of course if you ask for either of those things, norton will indulge you. choking would probably do well with his size kink.

definitely has a breeding kink. all he wants is to completely fill you up with his seed- he’ll go as many rounds as he can, desperate to stuff you full of his cum. he’ll degrade you while he does this- calling you his little whore, going on and on about how desperate you are for his cum.

a fair bit into overstimulation. it feeds norton’s sorely battered pride that no one else can see you like this- flushed and nearly in tears, letting out strangled mewls of pleasure while his cock slams against your prostate/g-spot. don’t even think about hiding your face in a pillow, either. the noises and expressions you make are part of how norton is assured he’s doing a good job- he also thinks you’re damn beautiful, all unraveled for him like this.

as stated above, norton prefers to cum inside of you, but if you’re not up for that he’ll pull out and cum on your ass or in his hand.

pulls your hair quite a bit- he’s pulled strands out in the past and apologizes like hell afterward. it’s not his intention to hurt you.

aftercare!! soft. norton’ll offer to wash your hair and wash your back- his hands are strong and more often than not, he ends up massaging your shoulders. wash his hair and he’s in heaven. lots of mildly soapy forehead kisses and whispered “i love you”s as the two of you crawl into bed, your head tucked under norton’s.

#norton campbell x reader #norton campbell idv #prospector #idv x reader #identity v x reader #idv x reader headcanons #prospector x reader #idv prospector #norton campbell #norton campbell x reader headcanons #identity v x reader headcanons #idv smut #identity v smut #norton campbell smut #i'm a bit unsatisfied with this but i can always post more #identity v prospector #norton simp hours

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jaceyneedsabetterusername · 3 years

Text

Lavender Lace

Pairings: Tom Holland x Femdom!Reader

Summary: Edging Tom (no plot whatsoever which is super rare here cause I’m a slut for plot)

Warnings: Edging (male receiving), unprotected sex (because it’s a fic and there is no pregnancy or STD’s unless I say lol), Dom!Reader-Sub!Tom, Creampie, Cockwarming, Reader doesn’t cum (sorry)

Word Count: 1860

A/N: I wrote most of this on my phone so I’m sorry if there are any words that autocorrect changed. I looked through and changed the ones I saw but just in case I missed any, my apologies!

Part 2 out now!

______________________

Tom lied on the bed, hands tied up above his head to the bed frame. His beautiful body was on full display against the sheets, small freckles adorning his taut skin. A glistening layer of sweat made every dip and rise of his body shine deliciously, his defined muscles exaggerated by the light shining off it. His chest heaved up and down as he attempted to calm himself down yet again and his biceps flexed as he pulled against his restraints. “Fuck! Please, please please…” His voice was broken and desperate- but not quite desperate enough.

“Awe, Tommy. You’re doing so well,” you cooed, rubbing your hand lovingly across his firm thigh, “But I think you can go a little longer.“

Tom groaned in frustration, his cock already painfully hard and leaking precum. He hissed and bucked up into your hand when your hand went back down to pump his impressive length. Your hand glided up and down, adding a twist at the top around the tip. “Please-”

You stopped your movement but kept your hand still on his member, shaking your head, “No cumming until I say.” You chided, voice gentle in stark contrast to the torture you’d been putting him through for the last hour. Tom’s hips bucked upwards again, desperate for release, making you chuckle, “Look at you. So handsome. So desperate.” After a few moments, his breathing calmed down and your fingers circled feather light across his pelvis and down over his thighs, “Let’s get you a little more desperate.”

Tom shook his head, “I need to cum. Please, please let me!”

You almost felt bad for your boyfriend. He looked almost in pain and you really did want to please him more than anything but you also knew that he loved this torture. If he really wanted you to stop, he only had to say the safe word. That weird simple little word had yet to leave his lips, which meant the fun could go on, guilt free.

Your middle finger circled his tip, so agonizingly light that he couldn’t tell if you were there or his brain was just creating sensations to cope with the torture. “Just a few more, love. Think of how good it will feel when you finally get to cum.” With that, you licked a long, slow stripe up the underside of his length before taking only his tip into your mouth and swirling your tongue, lapping up the abundant pre-cum that had been practically pouring out at this point.

Tom pulled at his hand restraints aggressively, “Agh!” He almost screamed out as you brought him to the edge yet again with only small kitten licks to his tip while you stroked his shift with your hand. Tom was so painfully close, it only took mere seconds before he was crying out again.

“I’m gonna cum!” He warned and you took your hand off completely, causing him to cry out. You crawled up his body, kissing a line up along the way. You made sure that his cock rubbed through the valley of your breasts, concealed by a lacey lavender push up bra that did wonders for your chest. When you made your way to his lips, you straddled his waist, just above where he needed you most, and kissed his lips.

“What number was that?” You whispered lightly into his ear.

His eyes opened to find yours only mere inches away and he could have cried. You looked beautiful. Sultry, sexy, confident. Tom, on the other hand, appeared to be a few seconds from tears. His big beautiful chocolate eyes were practically black, pupils blown so wide they nearly overwhelmed his entire irises. His brown curls stuck to his forehead from where he’d attempted to desperately bury his head in the pillows. “Nine.” Tom managed barely, only able to focus on the intense pressure between his legs.

You kissed him again, lifting yourself off him just enough to move the thin fabric of your thong aside before sitting back down, his length sliding between your slick folds as you rocked your hips.

“Fuck!” He hissed out, eyes screwed shut. He had already been so close that this alone almost sent him over the edge.

Your nails scratched lightly over his chest as your ground on him. You moaned a little when his head bumped your clit as he passed through your folds, so close to finally being inside you. “You’ve been such a good boy, Tommy. Where do you want to cum?” You asked, reaching over his head to untie the scarf you’d had him bound by. Immediately, his hands were on your hips.

He timidly asked, “Inside you?” Even after all these years together and the fact you were on birth control, it was still a request he felt weird making.

You smiled against his skin as you licked up his neck, still moving your hips against him, “You can cum inside me when I hit ten, understand?”

“I don’t think I’ll make it. I’m already s-so close.” Tom stuttered when he felt the tip of his cock finally slide into your warmth.

You squeezed your walls around him, just to torture him a little more, “You’re gonna have to, love. If you cum before I say, I’m gonna have to stop and ruin it.”

A genuine look of fear ran through Tom’s eyes and you knew he’d behave for you. He wanted this - nay, needed this - so badly. You began to bounce on his length, his cock rubbing against every wonderful spot inside you. Your hands came to your breasts, palming them through the thick fabric of your bra. “One.”

Tom’s hands struggled to stay on your hips, knowing you might edge him longer if he stepped out of line, “Let me touch you.” He begged and you only nodded, reaching for his hands and placing them on your breasts. He pulled the fabric down and raked his nails gently over your nipples, making you breathe out in pleasure.

“Two,” You moaned out, “Three.” You kept bouncing and you could feel him twitch inside you. “Four. Five.”

“I’m not gonna make it. I’m so close.” Tom was almost crying, legs struggling to stay still as he used every ounce of willpower to not let go here and no. He was so close, all it would take was a millisecond of losing concentration to snap.

You slowed down and just sat on him yet again, not moving but clenching your walls around his aching member and he audibly whined, “You’re gonna make it or I’m gonna get off and leave you writhing on the bed. Then you can watch while I finish myself off. That what you want?”

He shook his head aggressively, his hands moving back down to your hips to keep you in place, “No, no, no! I’ll make it to ten!” You noted the movement of his hands and maybe if he hadn’t been so well behaved all this time, you would have punished him a little more for trying to take control but you could see in his eyes how painfully desperate he was, how hard he was trying to be good. You wouldn’t punish him for it - this time.

“Good.” You began to swivel your hips, just like you knew he loved it and he threw his head back into the pillows, eyes shut tight as he struggled to keep his composure. “Six. Seven.” You reached down and ran your thumb gently across his cheek where an actual tear slid down, still moving on his cock, still drawing this out, “Eyes open, love.” Tom struggled to comply, knowing that one of the only things keeping him from busting right this second was trying to take his mind anywhere but this situation. Seeing you looking so damn sexy bouncing on his cock was sure to send him over. But he managed to pry his lids open and lock eyes with your blown out orbs. You bit your lip and smiled, “You’re doing such a good job. Eight.”

“Shit!” A broken moan tumbled from his lips as he flexed every muscle in his body to keep it at bay. He was gonna snap and there was nothing he could do about it, especially at this painfully slow pace you’d been counting at.

“Nine.”

Tom’s heart raced as he waited for that last number, that last bit of permission before you would let him finally release. He didn’t think he’d ever been this painfully hard and it made him look back at every other time he ever thought he had blue balls and smack his past self. He had no idea what it was like to be this achingly close. “Please, please-”

“Ten. Cum for me baby.” You finally allowed, raking your fingers down his body, making sure to graze over his nipples.

The orgasm hit him like a semi, crashing into across his body hard and fast the very moment you permitted it. “Agh! Fucking hell!”! He was nearly sobbing, his hands squeezing tightly into your hips and bouncing you up and down at just the right pace. Again, something you let slide. He had just been so good for you, he deserved it. His seed shot deep into you, warm and overflowing and waves of pleasure just kept coming. Tom didn’t think he’d ever cum this hard or long in his life, himself surprised when more and more hot ribbons seemed to just. Keep. coming.

Finally, he slowed down, arms slackening weakly against your thighs as he came down from his high. He was still sheathed inside you, his seed leaking out around his cock, down his cock and along your inner thighs. You had never been so full and you didn’t want it to end. You leaned forward, coming to lay on his chest, head in the crook of his neck. When you moved, your walls instinctively fluttered around his sensitive cock and Tom hissed, his grip suddenly tightening on you as the stimulation became too much.

Once you had positioned yourself comfortably on his chest, he wrapped an arm around your body, rubbing large stripes up and down your side. You twirled his hair in your fingers and listened to his wrecked breathing with a bit of pride knowing you made him feel this good. “You did so good for me, Tommy.”

He sighed heavily, “Thank you.” You giggled a little, knowing his brain was still moving a little slow. He wasn’t thanking you for the compliment- he was thanking you for finally letting him cum.

“Wasn’t too much?” You asked, hoping you didn’t go overboard. Logically, you knew he’d use the safe word if it was too much but you just wanted to be sure you hadn’t gotten a little too lost in the power.

Tom shook his head with a chuckle, pulling you closer into his body, hissing yet again when your heat shifted around his overstimulated softening length. “Just right. Any more and I might have died, though.”

You both laughed at his joke before you cooed in his ear, “Oh, love, you can take it. We’ll just have to break your record next time.”

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makoodlesarchive · 4 years

Text

(oh my god they were roommates!)

so this is late and i’m sorry, but happy birthday bakubabe!

ok so i was totally unprepared for people to like dragon dick kiri so i am feeling blessed 🙏🏻 knowing that other people now have to suffer in dragon dick kiri hell with me!

still not 100% sure if i’m happy with how this came out, but either way this is thanks to @lady-bakuhoe !

pairing: kirishima eijirou x reader x bakugou katsuki

word count: 6.3k

warnings: threesome, oral sex (receiving), vaginal sex, voyeurism, dragon dick kiri

this is part 2 to bad dragon! || dragon dick kiri masterlist

Tip Jar!

»»————-　♡　————-««

Dating Kirishima was never boring, in day-to-day life or in the bedroom, but there was an incredibly distinct difference to his overall demeanour and behaviour once you started being intimate with him. The privilege of watching him grow more confident in his own skin feels like a gift, and knowing that you’re able to help with that growth always causes a warmth to settle in your chest. He stops shying away from innocent touches like hugs and cuddles, he starts getting comfortable touching you first; He’s steadily adjusting to the idea that you’re not going to push him away or reject him. Things are good. Better than good. Kirishima is an absolute sweetheart as always, and the sex is amazing.

He’s starting to get so much better with initiating things with you, and that includes PDA. You guess that’s how it starts. It begins with the little things; he’ll pull you in for a kiss, with you pressed tight between his legs, and you’ll feel the back of your neck prickle. When you’re making out on the couch with you straddling his lap, you’ll hear a creak from down the hall. When things start to get hot and heavy when you’re in the shared space of the living room (as they inevitably do, because the both of you have a hard time keeping your hands to yourselves), sometimes you catch a flash of movement over Kirishima’s shoulder.

They’re little things, but they culminate in one undeniable realisation: Bakugou likes to watch.

The first time you bring it up to Kirishima, you’re not sure he believes you. That’s fine; he’s only just starting to come to terms with accepting his own body, and you don’t want to totally blow his mind with the revelation that other people just might be interested in his unusual but very sexy cock, much less his best friend and roommate. Baby steps.

Soon enough though, he seems to notice for himself. Whenever you come over and the two of you are hanging out on the couch, Bakugou’s door will be cracked open just a little. Sometimes when the two of you are getting busy in Kirishima’s bedroom, you can hear footsteps right outside the door. It’s nothing overt or invasive, but once you know he’s out there listening to his best friend ploughing you into the mattress, it’s pretty damn hard to ignore.

And honestly? It’s kind of hot. It’s not like you can blame Bakugou for being curious, after all. Knowing that his best friend is packing what Kirishima describes himself as “a weird dick” is enough to make anyone really fucking curious about what exactly “weird” entails. You imagine that any natural curiosity would only be further exacerbated by the fact that his bedroom neighbours Kirishima’s, and he can definitely hear the very enthusiastic sex that you’re having.

Bakugou’s burgeoning peeking habits combined with the fact that Kirishima is horny a lot and is starting to get real comfortable letting you know that means that it’s pretty inevitable that Bakugou is eventually going to walk in on the two of you in a compromising position. The position in question ends up being pretty tame, in the end; you’re on your knees in front of the couch, Kirishima’s dick stretching your mouth wide as spit and precum dribbles down your chin and neck, when the front door opens and Bakugou storms in.

Between the three of you, you honestly don’t know who is more surprised by Bakugou’s sudden interruption. Bakugou totally freezes, eyes wide in shock. You can feel Kirishima tense up beneath your hands. You stare up at the two of them, your mouth still full of Kirishima’s cock.

There’s a brief silence, then- “Why are you fucking on the couch!” Bakugou yells, a vein prominent on his forehead.

“We’re not!” Kirishima yells back, colour high in his cheeks as his cock slips from your mouth. “We were just- I mean, okay, I know what it looks like, but we weren’t going to- fuck, man, I’m sorry-” Kirishima has reached one hand down to cover himself as the other hand reaches out to you to help you to your feet, but one hand just isn’t enough to hide his dick from sight.

Bakugou still looks furious and embarrassed at having walked in on the two of you like this, but it’s impossible to miss the way his eyes track downwards. Kirishima doesn’t seem to notice where his best friend’s gaze has wandered to, too busy babbling out mortified apologies, but you notice. You see the exact moment that the look in Bakugou’s eyes switches from annoyance to curiosity.

“Do you want to see?” you ask quietly, watching Bakugou closely for a reaction.

Kirishima’s head swings around to stare at you, mouth open, but your attention is on Bakugou. He’s looking at you with just as much disbelief as Kirishima is, but there’s heat simmering in his eyes too. “See what?” he says, feigning ignorance as if you can’t see the way his gaze seems magnetically drawn to look at Kirishima’s crotch and your precome-stained face.

“Kiri doesn’t mind.” you say softly, mindful that any wrong word or shift in tone could set him off. What you’re saying is true, anyway; the two of you have talked about this, though you’re not sure that either of you actually expected to be in this position.

Bakugou looks to Kirishima, who settles slowly back into the couch and gives an exaggerated shrug. He’s trying to come off as casual, but he misses the mark by a longshot. He’s biting at the inside of his cheek and his jaw is tense. “I don’t mind, bro,” he says, then gives a self-deprecating chuckle, “Can’t promise you’ll like what you see, though.”

You pinch his thigh and scowl at him. “Stop that.” You look back to Bakugou and beckon him over. “Come on. You want to see, right?”

Honestly, you’re not sure if Bakugou is going to go for it. Listening in while the two of you fuck is very different from being personally invited into the action, and you can see him warring with himself over how to approach the situation. After what feels like forever but can’t be more than a moment or two, Bakugou steps forward. Kirishima exhales heavily through his nose, as though he’d been holding his breath with anticipation. He’s still tense, but this is Bakugou, his best friend. You don’t think there’s anyone in the world that Kirishima trusts more, but that also means that it’s going to hurt all that much more if Bakugou reacts badly.

Judging by the impressive bulge in the front of Bakugou’s pants, there’s no need to worry about that. Bakugou steps up beside you and pauses, unsure of himself. Kirishima just stares up at him, equally unsure. The moment stretches out, broken by you getting impatient and reaching out to gently pull Kirishima’s hand away from his very weak attempt at covering himself up.

“Holy fuck.” is Bakugou’s initial reaction to seeing Kirishima’s entire cock for the first time. Kirishima’s arms twitch to cover himself up again, but Bakugou continues with, “How the fuck do you move with that thing in between your legs?”

You snort a laugh, unable to help yourself, and with that the tension is broken. Kirishima chuckles a bit too and relaxes into the couch. “I wear a very supportive jockstrap.”

Bakugou is still staring, the high points of his cheeks flushed red. Kirishima’s hard on, which had been wilting a little, is starting to very visibly fill out again. It’s straining against Kirishima’s belly, precome trailing down the ridges and dripping onto the muscles of his abdomen. It makes for a very fetching sight, and Bakugou can’t seem to take his eyes off it. When he finally speaks, he says “Can I touch it?”, and his voice sounds raw, like he’s been swallowing something sharp.

“Oh shit,” Kirishima breathes, surprise slackening his jaw, “Uh. Yeah. Please.”

Bakugou’s knees hit the floor right next to you, and then he’s reaching out and tentatively taking hold of Kirishima’s length. The moment his fingertips close around it, a spurt of precome dribbles out of Kirishima’s slit, and Bakugou watches with wide eyes as it slips down his knuckles, sticky and wet. His gaze slides from his own hand to your face, and the mess all over your mouth and chin that you haven’t bothered to wipe away yet. “Is that-?”

“He makes a mess when he’s like this,” you murmur, grinning up at your boyfriend. “Wait till you see how much he comes.”

Bakugou’s throat bobs, “Shit.” he breathes, so quietly that you wonder if he meant to say it at all. He thumbs at the underside of Kirishima’s cock, where the flesh is ridged and swirled. That seems to prove too much for Kirishima, who had been holding patiently still up to that point -- he tips his head back and moans quietly as his hips jump, his cock thrusting in Bakugou’s fist. “You’re- it’s big.”

Kirishima laughs thickly, face tilted towards the ceiling. “Yeah. Not what you were expecting, huh? Even though I told you about it?”

The frown that crosses Bakugou’s face at that seems purely reflexive, as though it’s just instinct to be annoyed at the mere suggestion that he had been wrong about something. “Knowing and seeing are two different things, asshole.” he snaps, readjusting his grip on Kirishima’s cock and making him moan. His fingers trail down to where it thickens at the base, and over the swollen, squishy area right at the bottom. It’s still wet and shiny and sticky from the combination of precum and your spit, and Bakugou seems fascinated by the slickness.

You squirm where you’re kneeling, the heat between your legs becoming unbearable. Watching Bakugou explore Kirishima’s cock like this, his mouth hanging just a little bit open as he grazes his knuckles over all the sensitive bumps along the top, and Kirishima’s soft moaning has you squeezing your thighs together tight. Your panties are getting sticky and wet, but you don’t want to touch yourself in case you ruin the moment.

Almost as though Bakugou can sense your discomfort, his gaze cuts to you abruptly and he narrows his eyes. “He fucks you with this?”

Heat shudders through you, and you nod with your lip bitten between your teeth.

“How?” Bakugou’s gaze drops to your crotch, hidden by the hem of your sundress, as though it might offer him some answers.

“Practice,” you say, and find that you sound just as raw and affected as Bakugou does. “And he produces a lot of precum, which helps.” Kirishima makes a garbled noise of embarrassment when you say that and hides his face behind his hands, as though that could somehow block out his best friend and his girlfriend on their knees in front of them and having a discussion over his cock about how he fucks.

Bakugou looks at Kirishima’s covered face thoughtfully. “I want to see.” he says, and it sounds like an order.

Kirishima reaches for you immediately, but you hesitate. “I’m not ready.” you say. You’re horny as hell, and you’ve definitely soaked through your panties, but Kirishima is big and he just is not going to fit unless you’re stretched out and prepared for him.

The whine that escapes Kirishima at that is a little desperate and a little impatient, but it’s Bakugou that he looks to next. “Want to get her ready for me?” he asks. It’s his way of taking control of the situation, of ensuring that Bakugou isn’t just sat on the outside looking in, that all three of you are actively involved in the unfolding events.

“Fuck, yes.” Bakugou breathes, a feral little grin lighting up his face. “How?”

You’re a little surprised at how willing Bakugou is to defer to Kirishima in this, but you suppose that he’s way out of his comfort zone. There’s not much time to think too much about it, in any case, because Kirishima is tugging you up onto his lap and spreading your legs wide. Your back is pressed against his chest, ass sat just in front of his cock. Your dress is hitched up around your hips, leaving your damp, sticky panties on display. You want to be embarrassed, but Kirishima is rocking his thick cock into the small of your back and Bakugou is shuffling forward so that his head is between your legs.

“Shit,” Bakugou says, his breath hot on the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, “You’re so wet.”

“Can’t blame her for being excited.” Kirishima rumbles a laugh, and you feel the vibrations of it run down your spine. “What do you want him to do to you, sweetheart?”

Bakugou’s face is inches from your clothed pussy, and his hands are playing with the elastic waistband of your panties without actively trying to remove them. The bastard is grinning at you, like he thinks it’s funny watching you struggle to articulate what you want him to do to you. It’s embarrassing, but you figure that if Kirishima was able to lay himself bare and vulnerable in front of the two of you, then the least you can do is make one measly request out loud. “I want you to- can you please, uh, use your mouth?”

Bakugou’s grin gets impossibly wider, “Oh, yeah, baby, I’ll eat you up whole. But only because you said please.”

His mouth descends on you, licking and sucking through your panties. Even with the fabric barrier, the wet heat of his mouth has your head tilting back onto Kirishima’s shoulder with a moan. Thankfully, Bakugou is too impatient to keep up the teasing for any significant amount of time. Your panties are dragged down your legs and then thrown somewhere over Bakugou’s shoulder -- he doesn’t even look where he’s throwing them, his gaze fixed between your legs. Your legs twitch closed, embarrassed at the attention. You have a sudden and intense sympathy for Kirishima as you realise how he must have felt with you and Bakugou examining his cock.

There’s no time to feel self-conscious though, because then Bakugou is pushing your legs open, diving down, latching onto your clit and sucking. You squeal and your hips buck, but Kirishima’s big hands land on your hips and pin you down, keeping you still as Bakugou suckles at your cunt.

“Fuck!” you gasp, trying to tilt your hips away from his mouth. It’s too much, too fast, but the two of them hold you still and force you to take it until you’re trembling in their hands.

Kirishima hooks his chin over your shoulder so that he can look down and watch Bakugou’s head between your legs. Even from the corner of your eyes, you can see the excited little smile that’s playing on his lips. “How does his mouth feel on you, baby?” he whispers into your ear, the warmth of his breath sending a little shiver down your spine.

“Feels -ah! - good,” you say, burying your face into Kirishima’s neck. Your thighs keep reflexively twitching closed, but each time Bakugou just bats them open again without pause. His tongue slides down the lips of your pussy until he reaches your slit, and then his tongue is wiggling inside of you and you’re whining into the skin of Kirishima’s throat.

Kirishima kisses your temple, but he doesn’t look away from the sight below -- he’s barely even blinking as he watches Bakugou eat you out. You feel like you’re about to catch fire, bucking your hips desperately into Bakugou’s face as he tongue-fucks you. He just grunts and shoots a quick look up at Kirishima, who promptly readjusts his grip across your stomach so that you can’t move. His cock is pressing into the dip at the small of your back, scalding hot and hard as a goddamn rock.

Bakugou pulls back for half a second to catch his breath, and then he leans in and gets right back to it. He mouths along the lips of your pussy, his teeth grazing and scratching at the sensitive skin just right. You make a noise that sounds embarrassingly close to a sob, and feel Bakugou grinning into the soft flesh of your pussy. Kirishima coos into your ear, telling you how good you are as his hands pull your dress up to your waist so he can run his hands along your skin.

“Do you like him licking at you?” he asks quietly, pressing a kiss to the vulnerable spot just behind your earlobe.

It shouldn’t be surprising that Bakugou is as aggressive with giving head as he is with just about everything else that he ever does, but having his entire attention focused on eating you out is just the right kind of overwhelming. You want desperately to wind your hands into the wild blonde hair bobbing between your legs, but also really want to come and you don’t want him to stop what he’s doing to snap at you, so you go for the safe option and reach back to wrap your fingers around Kirishima’s spiked hair instead.

Bakugou’s tongue traces your folds, pulling them into his mouth and suckling. You relax a little, humming your pleasure into Kirishima’s neck. But then Bakugou is digging his tongue into the top of your folds and locating the nub of your clit with absolute precision, and you arch your back with a little scream. Kirishima laughs quietly at your reaction, and you can feel his cock twitch against your back. “Oh, now you’re getting warmed up, huh?”

Bakugou is relentless, devoting everything he has to your clit. He laps at it, stiffens his tongue to a point and flicks at it, wraps his lips around it again and sucks. When he introduces his teeth and grazes it, you’re gone; your whole body seizes up and you keen as you come, but even then Bakugou doesn’t pull away. He laps and suckles at you until you’re gasping and writhing from the overstimulation.

You can’t catch your breath after your orgasm because his mouth is still busy with your clit. He lets go of one of your hips and then suddenly he’s slipping two fingers into you, the slide made easy by how slick you’ve gotten. You have to bite back the scream that wants to escape from between your teeth, tossing your head back desperately onto Kirishima’s chest and whining.

“Gorgeous.” Kirishima praises you, smoothing a few loose strands of hair back from your forehead. He leans over you a little for a better view, admiring the sight of Bakugou tonguing at your clit and pushing his fingers all the way inside of you. “Fuck.” Kirishima breathes, rutting his hips against your ass. “Enjoying yourself, bro?”

Bakugou finally detaches himself from your clit, but his fingers continue fucking in and out of you as he looks up to Kirishima. The entire lower half of his face is wet and shiny from your slick and his own spit, and he looks absolutely obscene as he grins. His tongue pokes out and licks the mess off of his lips. “Yeah,” he says, crooking his fingers into the spongey area at the front of your inner walls and snickering as you squeal, “Yeah, I sure fucking am.”

Kirishima hauls you further up his body so that you’re practically sitting on his lower belly, his cock jutting out in front of you. The move causes Bakugou’s fingers to slip out of you, and you make a dissatisfied little noise at the loss, pussy clenching up around nothing. “Don’t worry, baby, he’s going to put them back in.” Kirishima promises you, his hand slipping up your dress and thumbing at your hardening nipples.

“Fucking hell.” Bakugou says, shuffling forward so he can get to your pussy again. His fingers slip in with little to no resistance, your body so wet and ready that it sucks him in with ease. His eyes go half-lidded when he feels how easy you take his fingers. “Damn. You always this ready for it?”

“Fuck off.” you snap, but the words have virtually no edge to them thanks to the breathless, desperate quality of your voice. You’re actually kind of embarrassed that it came out of your mouth, but neither of them make any mention of it.

Bakugou is watching avidly as his fingers slide in and out, adding a third. You spread your legs wider and lift your knees, silently hoping he’ll take it as the invitation that it is and fuck you harder. He complies happily, and the wet, squelching sounds that come from his fingers in your cunt only seem to work Kirishima up. “Bakugou,” he grunts, “Touch me again, bro?”

“Fuck,” Bakugou groans a little, but then his other hand is gripping Kirishima and jerking him and Kirishima is moaning into your neck and squeezing your hips tight. One hand really isn’t enough to properly grip Kirishima’s cock, and Bakugou seems to realise this almost instantly. He makes up for it in the same way he seems to approach every challenge in life -- unmitigated, aggressive enthusiasm. Kirishima gasps into the back of your neck at the brutally fast pace Bakugou sets, and you look down in time to see precum dribbling in a steady stream down his cock, making a mess of Bakugou’s fingers.

Bakugou’s coordination is impressive -- it can’t be easy to finger-fuck you and jerk Kirishima off at the same time, but he manages to pull it off with zeal. You whimper into Kirishima’s ear as Bakugou adds a fourth finger. Kirishima kneads at your breasts with his hands and groans as Bakugou’s fingers rub rough circles around the raised bumps at the tip of his cock. “Fuck, bro,” he moans, his cock dribbling out precum in streams all over Bakugou’s fist, “Feels so good!”

“Stop calling me bro when I have your cock in my hand.” Bakugou snaps irritably, but it’s hard to take him seriously when he’s tenting the front of his pants so badly that it looks like he’s parodying a boner.

Kirishima just laughs, strangled and breathless, and says to you, “Baby, are you nearly ready? Because I’m all sorts of worked up, and I want to cum inside you.”

“Her pussy clenches around my fingers everytime I move a muscle or you say a goddamned word.” Bakugou says before you get the chance to answer, grinning as he rubs the pads of his fingers against your insides. His thumb lands on your sensitive, swollen clit and rubs hard, and you nearly cry out as your back bows and you push eagerly into his touch, “Fuck yes. Arch your back a little more, come on. Look at you going nice and tight around my fingers.”

“Holy fuck.” you choke, pulling at Kirishima’s hair as Bakugou plays with your pussy. It’s too much and not enough, and your hips keep undulating like they can’t decide whether to twitch away from the stimulation or to go back for more.

“Fuck, just look at you riding my fingers. You gonna do that around his massive fucking cock?”

You and Kirishima both moan, and that seems to be the last straw. Kirishima picks you up and Bakugou’s fingers slide out of you once more, but you barely have any time to register the emptiness before the tip of Kirishima’s cock is lined up with your entrance and begins pressing in. Bakugou scrambles back a little to make sure he has a proper view -- his eyes are wide as he watches Kirishima begin to press into you, stretching you wide and slipping in inch by inch.

You gasp desperately as you’re speared open inexorably slowly, tears pricking your eyes as your mouth drops open. You’re used to the stretch at this stage, and you’re so worked up that the slow and steady pace that Kirishima’s going at is driving you crazy, like an itch that’s just out of reach. You press your hips back into him, trying to get him deeper inside of you faster, but his hands are clamped tight around your hips to restrict your movement.

“Easy, baby girl.” he rumbles into your ear, breath coming in short puffs, “I’m calling the shots, and right now, we’re going slow.”

The frustrated sound you make in response is nearly a growl, and it pulls an amused little snort from Bakugou. “I’m ready, I can take more-!”

“I know, baby, I know.” Kirishima bites at the junction between your neck and shoulder as he slides another inch deeper inside of you. “But we gotta give Bakugou time to enjoy the view.”

Bakugou seems to be doing exactly that; he’s shuffled a little closer so he can see better, and he watches avidly as Kirishima slowly rocks his cock into you. He reaches out and runs his fingers along the edge of your pussy, right where Kirishima’s dick is stretching you out. “Fuck,” he says, and his breath blows hot against your skin where you’re still damp from his mouth, “You’re taking him like a champ.”

That might be one of the nicest things that Bakugou’s ever said to you, but you don’t get a chance to properly appreciate it because with one sharp thrust Kirishima’s cock bottoms out inside of you. You whimper -- you’re so full you feel like you’re about to break in half, and Bakugou’s gaze on you feels like a physical weight. The feel of his fingertips rubbing at where you’re stretched taut around Kirishima is making you clench up around the thickness of the intrusion inside you, which in turn has Kirishima moaning into your shoulder.

Kirishima is holding maddeningly still inside of you, ignoring your desperate attempts at wriggling around in his lap trying to get him to move. Just when you think he’s never going to move, he leans forward so that his mouth is against your ear, and nips at your earlobe. “I'm gonna fuck you so hard you cum just from the shock of it, baby.”

“Please!” you moan helplessly, dropping your head down to your chest.

Kirishima laughs, a little breathlessly, and then pulls his hips back and fucks up into you in one smooth movement. You cry out, scrambling to grab a hold of something to stabilise yourself as you’re rocked hard by Kirishima’s thrusts. There’s nothing to hold, so you just have to ride with the motion of his body, grinding back into him every time his hips jerk against yours.

Movement catches your eye, and you look up to see that Bakugou has stuffed his hand down his pants and is now fisting his own cock with the hand that was covered with Kirishima’s precum. His face is contorted in the most intensely turned on look you’ve ever seen, and you can’t help arching back into Kirishima, pushing your hips forward a little more so he has a better view. Bakugou curses and leans forward so he can watch your pussy bouncing around Kirishima’s cock as it splits you open.

You’re so wet down there, from your own juices and Bakugou’s spit and Kirishima’s cock that’s dribbling precum like a leaky faucet. Precum is spilling out of you despite the way Kirishima is plugging you up, and you feel it smearing all over your pussy, thighs, and Kirishima’s stomach. Bakugou is watching the precum as it leaks out of you, his expression nearly awed. “Always wanted to really watch.” he says to no one in particular. His hand is gripping his balls, and you realise that he’s probably trying to stave off his orgasm, trying to last until you and Kirishima are done. “Hey, Y/N. How does his cock feel in you?”

You screw your eyes shut as Kirishima pulls nearly all the way out before slamming back in, “Ah! Big!”

“No shit,” Bakugou says, rubbing his thumb roughly over the head of his cock as he fucks his own fist. “It feel good?”

“Yeah, god, yes! So good!”

“Can you- fuck- can you feel those ridgey things when his dick is inside you?” Bakugou grunts, hunching over his cock as his hand moves faster.

“Mmhm! Can feel them rubbing against me.” you gasp.

Kirishima whimpers. Bakugou’s questions are only winding him up; you can tell by the way the base of his cock is engorging and pulsing against you. “‘M gonna come soon.” he babbles, humping into you so hard that your entire body is nearly flung off his lap, “You feel so good, so hot and tight on my cock, baby. God, your pussy is so perfect. Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

Bakugou’s breathing is getting heavier, and you can see his balls drawing tighter as he plays with his dick. Right when he’s about to cum all over the carpet he stops, letting go of himself altogether. Even with nothing touching it, his dick is twitching and straining against his stomach. “I wanna suck on your tits.”

Bakugou’s hoarse voice and rough confession has Kirishima groaning and reaching up to pull the straps of your sundress down, exposing your breasts. Your nipples are hard and sensitive already from Kirishima pawing at them, so when Bakugou’s hot mouth closes around your right breast as Kirishima kneads your left one you think you might actually explode.

The swollen base of Kirishima’s cock pulses slightly on every stroke, a sure sign that he’s close to spilling all over the place. Another sign is his fast, heavy breathing and the way that he babbles about how good you feel into your ear, “You’re so good to me, baby girl. You’re clamping down around me so nice, you’re - ah, fuck, you’re so good! So tight and hot. I’m gonna cum inside you. Wait, can I cum inside you? Is it okay- ah! Let Bakugou watch me cum inside you, baby.”

Bakugou lets your tit fall out of his mouth and sits back on his ankles. “You gonna cum now?”

“Ngh! Yeah.” says Kirishima, his voice gone thin and needy. His hip are pounding into you at such a rapid pace that you can’t catch your breath. You have to throw your arms over Bakugou’s shoulders for support, the force of his thrusts nearly sending you flying to the floor. “Sorry, baby, I know I’m being rough. Your pussy just feels so good wrapped around me, I can’t- fuck, I can’t-”

“It’s fine, just- ah!- do it!” you beg. The breath is being driven out of your lungs with every thrust, and it should be overwhelming but you can feel heat beginning to pool in your lower belly.

You can feel the base of his cock tensing, swollen with the cum he’s about to release. He ruts into you, biting at your shoulders just hard enough to leave behind impressions of his teeth. “I love you, I love your pussy and- oh fuck, fuck, I’m cumming!” With a cry, he jerks his hips into you and begins moaning desperately as he begins emptying his load inside of you. He keeps fucking into you even as he’s cumming, but his thrusts get sloppier and sloppier until he slips out of you entirely and ends up humping the air.

Bakugou watches open-mouthed as Kirishima’s cock flexes and sprays cum onto the floor and the couch. “What the fuck.” he breathes. He’s so surprised by the sheer force and quantity of Kirishima’s cum that he apparently forgets about his own cock, sitting red and leaking in his fist, in favour of watching.

You’re so aroused that you swear your pussy is twitching, and you’re so close to your own orgasm that you let your impatience get the better of you. Kirishima still isn’t entirely done cumming when you stuff his cock back up inside you and start riding him again, clutching at his knees and crying out as the tip hits that one spot inside you that makes you feel gooey inside. Your eyes are half-closed as you fuck yourself back on Kirishima’s cock, relishing the satisfied little cries he’s emitting into the space between your shoulder blades, but you can still see Bakugou fisting and tugging at his cock like a desperate man.

The pleasure sitting in your lower belly is starting to coil tight, and your movements get a little sloppy as you desperately chase your release on Kirishima’s dick. The pleasure is so close to cresting when suddenly the room seems to flip, and before you know it your face is pressed into the couch. The hot length of Kirishima’s cock slides home inside of you again, and you moan delightedly as you realise that he hasn’t gone soft yet. “Fuck me, Eiji, I need you to- now!”

“I got you, baby.” he croons in your ear, smoothing your sweat-soaked hair back as he hikes your ass up and begins fucking you again.

It only takes two more hard thrusts before you’re tossing your head back and shaking apart with a short little scream, your entire body drawing up tight and tensing so hard that you can hardly see. Kirishima is still rutting blindly into you, making the best little noises as his cock begins to swell again.

It feels like you’re cumming forever, the ecstasy drawn out by Kirishima’s frantic humping as the ridges on his cock drag along your insides and light up every nerve and sweet spot you have. Feeling you come undone around his dick is always Kirishima’s favourite part, and you can feel his excitement in the way his movements become choppy and desperate as he tries to shove himself as far inside you as he can get. With a full body shiver and a drawn-out whine he comes again, although it may just be a second wave of his first orgasm -- you’re not sure if he ever finished cumming in the first place. You whimper quietly at the feeling of him flooding your insides, relaxing into his hands as he grasps you close to his chest.

There’s a gasp, and when you turn your head to the side you’re greeted with the sight of Bakugou beginning to cum. He moans, his legs spread wide and his hips canting forward with every pulse of cum that drips from his dick. You can feel Kirishima shifting behind you, his hips still rocking softly into you, and you know that he’s watching too. You feel like you’re in heaven; not only do you have the privilege of getting fucked out by Kirishima, but you also get to watch Bakugou cum all over himself, and they’re both just so hot like this.

Bakugou sits back on his hands and focuses on his breathing as he tries to calm down, one shaky breath after another. “Fucking hell.”

Kirishima kisses your neck as he pulls out. “You were so good, sweetheart, you’re so amazing.” He murmurs, then looks to Bakugou. “Uh. So...”

“Let me see.” Bakugou interrupts, pushing forward so he can get a proper look at you. His thumb brushes over your over-sensitive sex, and he rumbles a quiet laugh at the shudder that rips through you at the touch. You know without looking that he’s running his thumb over the mess of cum that oozing out of you, marveling at the sheer amount of it. “Fuck. Shit. Do you always cum this much?”

“Yeah,” Kirishima says bashfully, shifting his weight and tucking his dick self-consciously back into his pants, uncaring of the cum staining his clothes. “Uh, pretty much.”

“She’s covered in it. Damn.” he glances up and meets your eyes, and gives you such a wicked grin that your breath hitches a little. “You able to walk after taking that?”

The mere idea of moving has your muscles twinging, and you laugh as you shake your head into the couch. “No way. Just leave me like this for a while, I’m happy.”

The boys laugh, and Kirishima smooths his hand over your back. “Don’t you want to shower?” he asks fondly.

You definitely want to shower, but you’re also really not ready to move. Your limbs are floppy and achey, and you’re tired enough that you can mostly ignore the feeling of sweat and cum drying on your skin. “Mmmm.” is all you manage to say.

“How ‘bout I get you a towel and we cuddle in bed, hm?” he offers as a compromise, leaning down to scoop your boneless body into his arms. You let your head drop against his shoulder, enjoying the feeling of his muscles shifting beneath you as he shifts your weight around in his arms. The first time he had lifted you like this you had shrieked, certain that he was going to drop you, but that had only seemed to make him all the more determined to prove to you at every opportunity that he was strong enough to pick you up and carry you anywhere at any time.

“Hang on,” says Bakugou, halting Kirishima in his tracks. “What about this fucking mess?” he demands, gesturing at the cum-stained couch and floor.

“Huh? I’ll clean up later.” Kirishima says, edging out of the room.

“Clean up later? We’re gonna have to bleach the whole damn room. We definitely need a new fucking couch too, look at it!”

“Right, right.” Kirishima agrees, very obviously not listening. He set off down the hall, nuzzling a quick kiss onto your forehead before glancing over his shoulder. “Hey, come and cuddle with us.”

“Hah? You need to buy us a new couch, asshole!”

“You got it, man,” Kirishima agrees blithely, kicking open his bedroom door. “You coming?” You peer hopefully over Kirishima’s shoulder, and shoot him a beaming smile when Bakugou sends a doubtful little look towards you. The uncertainty in his expression is wiped clear, and then he gives a jerky little shrug and stomps down the hallway after the two of you.

“What the fuck ever. Don’t think you’re gonna get out of cleaning your mess up though, you bastard!”

#kirishima x reader #kirishima eijiro x reader #kirishima x reader x bakugou #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #kiri x reader x baku #bnha x reader #kirishima eijirou x reader #dragon dick kiri

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sidespromptblog · 3 years

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Between the Mask: Part 2

One, Three, and End

Warning: Plenty of tears from all parties, angst, Janus has a momentary panic episode, and Logan has a mental break down.

Summary: Roman confronts Janus about how exactly Roman should act around him, after being told by the others that being both nice and mean to him is wrong. Only to discover that after everything he’s been through, Janus isn’t the person that he portrays in front of everyone else.

Word Count: 4303

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A strange kind of vigor filled Roman’s chest as he moved towards Logan’s room, a mixture of anxiety and adrenaline danced around his heart the closer that he got. A part of him was nervous about possibly bumping into Patton or Virgil, and having to answer the inevitable questions that would eventually arise when they put two and two together about where exactly he was going and where he was coming from. With Janus’ face still fresh in his mind, Roman felt a sense of protective unease at the thought of Patton and Virgil forcing their way into the safety of his room. Because, the one thing that he certainly did not want to answer was that question and the secrets that it entailed, especially because, despite how Janus may have started to become accepted he wasn’t entirely sure if he was ready for everyone to know about the real Janus just yet.

Especially not without his consent.

And Roman would damned before he broke the fragile trust he had just now built between him and Janus, especially after everything he had initially done wrong between the two of them.

He would guard Janus’ secret like a lion.

“Logan?” Roman whispered as he stood before the simplistic blue door that lacked any distinguishing characteristics, “Logan, I… I know that you’re there.” He winced at his casual tone, given everything the last thing he should be is casual with Logan.

He couldn’t help but to cringe at the vivid memory of himself so carelessly pressing the ignorance button, when Logan had only wanted to do his best and educate Thomas, Patton, and him.

He’d been rather rude, even if he had only meant it jokingly.

A deep sigh rumbled his chest as he forced himself to take a step back from it all, moaning and whining would get him nowhere. Logan had always responded to clear and decisive wording, not emotional blithering and most certainly not sing-songy language.

He needed to speak Logan’s language rather than trying to get across with his own. “Logan, if you’re even listening to me… I want you to know that I.. I see you.” Roman softly began, so much for no emotional language. “I see how much you’ve had to sacrifice for the sake of my and Thomas’ dreams to be a reality. I see how much you’ve had to change while the rest of us gets to stay the same. And…” Here he took a deep breath, pushing down the pride that had always gotten in the way of these apologies. “I’m sorry that I didn’t see it sooner, and.. and I’m sorry for how much I’ve made you sacrifice and just how much you’ve suffered because of it. I’m sorry for hurting you, in every way that I ever have.”

Roman hadn’t even noticed it when he had started to spew out his apologies, but the moment they started the sight in front of him clouded over with tears that he refused to let fall. The knowledge that he’d been not only a bad friend, but also a bad protector, hit him like a punch to the chest. He had never wanted to hurt anyone, but in the end it always felt like no matter what he tried to do, he had always done the opposite. It was like that with Virgil, when he had tried to protect Thomas from the bad thoughts. It had happened with Patton, when he had constantly tried to keep him happy. It had happened with Janus, and now… now it was happening with Logan all over again.

“I’m sorry too…” Came a soft but equally hoarse voice from the other side of the door, “I’m not a very good logic… no matter how hard I try to be. If I was good, then maybe-”

“No!”

Roman’s hands slapped desperately against the door before he even had a chance to think about it, letting silence reign after his outburst. Shaking his head roughly to the point that his usually pristinely styled hard flopped onto his forehead in a mess of curls, Roman pressed the palms of his hands even harder against the door. The last thing that he wanted was for Logan to blame himself for any of this, it wasn’t anybody's fault for how things turned out.

It just happened, that’s why it was called an accident.

“Logan,” He sternly whispered, forcing himself to keep his voice down. “You don’t have to change, you don’t. Not for Thomas, not for the others, and most certainly not for me. Do you understand?” He felt like he was getting dangerously close to both crying, and digging his nails into the door in an effort to get through to Logan. “You don’t have to change for us, you never will. You can say that you don’t feel emotions, but I know you Logan. I’ve seen you smile, I’ve seen you address Thomas and the others as a class, and I’ve seen you happy Logan. Happy.” Roman’s head solidly thumped against the door. “You can still be happy… if you come with me.”

A long stretch of silence drifted between the two of them, before finally…

The blue door that Roman had been unleashing all of his feelings out onto, slowly eased open, almost making the creative side lose his footing before he swiftly regained it.

There stood Logan, huddled into himself wearing his unicorn onesie that Roman hadn’t seen since the day Logan had accidentally worn it during a video with Patton. The socks he was wearing clashed visibly with the pale blue of the onesie, with a garish orange that Roman didn’t dare to comment on. His tie was gone, and his glasses were neatly folded and tucked away into the collar of the onesie letting Roman see the logical side without his glasses for the first time.

He looked tired.

Especially with his eyes rimmed with red, evidence that Roman wasn’t the only one who had been close to crying. The alternative though… hurt Roman’s heart to much to even think about. The idea that all this time, while Roman had been wallowing in self angst, Logan had been crying with not a single soul to comfort him or tell him that it would be okay.

It hurt.

It hurt a lot.

Logan’s eyes darted away, the vulnerability of the prolonged eye contact already too much for him. “Why do you want me to come with you?” He finally muttered, his fingers twitching and fiddling where his tie would usually be. “That’s usually the opposite of what you want from me.”

That was true too, in the past Roman had been almost obsessed with making Logan go away so that he could continue with his fanciful daydreams about just what Thomas could accomplish. He had never even considered how it might make Logan feel to be on the receiving end of all of that.

Roman’s arms itched to drag Logan into a hug, a hug that would wipe away every careless action he had ever done in his life. “Someone wants to see you.” He instead said, moving his hand to rest on Logan’s back, small steps after all… small steps. “He knows exactly how you feel… he’s had to change a lot of himself just to be listened to. And I think…. I think that we could all use the company if I’m being honest.”

Logan almost unconsciously leaned into the warmth of Roman’s hand. It had been more than a week since the last video, and at least a week since he had allowed himself to be around the others. Which meant none of the Patton’s hugs, none of Virgil’s awkward leans that happened to brush against him sometimes, and… no touch, in general.

“Why?”

The question left Logan’s mouth well before he was ready, but even so, despite the question he found himself walking with Roman back to wherever he had come from. He wanted to go, deep down he knew that he wanted to go. He wanted.. he wanted to finally be understood, he wanted…

To be cared about, without being laughed at and made fun of.

Roman’s smile was almost too easy and too knowing. “Because you’re my friend, and I care about you.”

That was good enough for Logan… for now.

"What are you doing?" Logan asked as he stopped dead in his tracks almost immediately upon entering Janus' room, seeing the dishonest side surrounded by a mound of peach colored yarn. But not before turning to Roman a look of utter befuddlement and uncertainty on his face, emphasizing his question that had still gone unanswered. "What is he doing? What's going on?"

Roman had to fight to keep down the snicker that so badly wanted to burst out of him at the sight of Logan’s confusion, it was such a rare sight for the logical side to be confused by anything. So try as he may, he quickly turned his laugh into a polite cough before looking over to Janus with obviously raised eyebrows. He hadn’t thought it possible, but he looked even more comfy and cozy than when he had first seen him. The reading glasses had been pushed further up his nose, giving him a more dignified look that was utterly swept away by the strings of yarn he had all around his fingers and looped loosely around his neck.

Two needles sat firmly in his hands, waiting to be used.

“I am attempting to learn how to knit,” Janus began with a begrudgingly embarrassed look at the mess around him, “It’s a lot harder to get down than crocheting is, especially with the two needles instead of one. I might need to get a few books, or look up a few videos to learn some more about the different styles.”

The eagerness in Janus’ voice was practically palpable by now, to the point where Logan squirmed where he was standing. The urge to offload several papers worth of information building inside of him like a geyser.

The only thing stopping him was…

This wasn’t Janus.

It couldn’t be Janus.

Janus was a sly worded, silver tongued snake. Who delighted in getting his way, and would go to great lengths just to get it. So this had to some kind of trick, like when he had taken over Patton’s form just to get Thomas to consider lying to Joan. This was just a ploy to get both Roman and him to his side, and against the others just like he had done with Roman during the trial that he had been… neglected from joining. He was just showing them this to get them to trust him, there was nothing else about it. Just…

Just trickery.

The excitement on Janus’ face faltered. “You.. you didn’t tell him?” He uttered softly, his eyes quickly darting from Logan’s face to Roman’s. A look of what could only be considered fear darted over his eyes, although fear over what Logan didn’t know. “You brought him here and you didn’t even tell him what he was going to be walking into?!”

Janus’ heart thudded heavily in his chest, as a feeling being far too exposed washed over him in waves.

Logan had seen him relaxed.

Logan had seen him as he usually was.

Logan had seen him without the walls that he’d meticulously built up for years.

Logan had seen him… Logan had seen him.

What if he told the others? What if he told Thomas? Logan wasn’t exactly known for telling lies, if anything blunt honesty was usually the way that the logical side went about his business. He could tell the others, and it would be no skin off of his nose. He would tell them.

He would tell them if he got the chance to, he definitely would.

His fingers hooked into the blankets surrounding him, gathering them around his shoulders as if they were an invisibility cloak that would shield him from the others’ gaze. Scrunching it around his shoulders and over his head, Janus felt the fire in the fireplace sputtering out as the terror continued to thrum in his veins. They wouldn’t listen to him anymore, they’d laugh at him, and Thomas would go right back to the habits that he’d tried so hard to avoid before.

Everything would be useless.

Janus.. Janus would be useless.

“Janus? Janus?” Janus’ mind snapped back to the present as he felt Roman’s gentle hands rocking him where he sat. “I’m sorry for not telling him beforehand, I figured that it would be easier if I were to bring him here and we could both explain everything to him.” Roman’s heart had frozen at the sight of utter terror that had crossed Janus’ face, well before the dishonest side had tucked himself away like a terrified squirrel under his little burrow. “I’m sorry for not making that clear before, do you.. do you want us to leave?”

Roman hoped not, he desperately and dearly hoped not.

But seeing Janus’ careful ragged breaths moving the blankets, he had no idea of what the final verdict would be this time. He wasn’t the judge, and Janus’ face was hidden so he had no idea of just what he’d say. He didn’t want to have to go, he didn’t want to leave Janus after everything he’d figured out about him. After… after the future that he’d promised to try and make for him and Logan.

“Roman,” Logan’s voice softened to almost a whisper as the logical side laid his hand on the creative side’s arm. “Give him a little space, it is likely that he’s just having a panic episode. Crowding him wouldn’t be the best option for him right now. Why don’t we sit and give him some breathing room?”

Leading Roman away from the other side, Logan guided him to a comfortable looking sofa that had been pushed against the wall. Once he’d had Roman seated, Logan settled in next to him. Casting his gaze from the fireplace that was steadily retaining its light and warmth, to the bookshelves that held endless amounts of knowledge in them. It was a very nice looking place, a sort of mix between what would have been Roman’s and his room had they decided to collaborate and make one for the both of them. It was very quaint and homey, if Logan had to use words those would be the exact ones he’d use to describe it.

Warm was another one.

“You don’t have to leave,” Janus finally uttered from his place hidden under the blankets, “I was just… shocked that Roman hadn’t told you, and.. and scared that…” Movement came from his giant pile, and two mismatched eyes looked back at Logan with a fair amount of uncertainty. “I was scared that you’d tell the others, and once they’d know, they’d never take my act in front of Thomas seriously, and they’d just… laugh anytime I needed him to take care of himself. I didn’t know how you’d react and well… I still want to be taken seriously, even if I happen to like being comfortable and not sneaky or sly.Do you.. do you understand?” Janus finally asked, tugging the edge of the covers down just a little bit more, and letting his hair poke out just a little.

“Yes.”

There was no hesitation in Logan’s voice, not a single octave or syllable even hinted that he didn’t understand exactly what Janus was feeling.

He knew.

He knew all too well.

A deep sigh tinged with regret fell from Logan’s lips as he finally stood up, making his way over to Janus’ side before plopping down in front of him. “I know exactly what you mean.” He muttered, distaste coloring his voice. “But…” He added just as quickly. “I don’t understand why Roman wanted me here, I understand if he wanted to share a secret. I’ll gladly keep it, Thomas and the others won’t hear a single thing from me. But... that doesn’t appear to be the case. So what exactly is going on?”

A glance was shared between Janus and Roman, one as quick as a fish in a stream, but one that Logan caught onto nonetheless.

Janus’ fingers fiddled with the ends of his knitting needles, while Roman tapped his feet together focusing on the sensation of the carpet fibers between his toes.

“Logan…” Roman began softly, “When was the last time you smiled?”

And just like that, it felt as if a bucket of cold water had been dumped over Logan’s head. A seven worded question, that was all it had taken to send Logan’s mind to a screeching halt well before it had even started. His nails bit into the palms of his hands, and his lungs burned from the prolonged breath that he had forgotten to take as soon as Roman had prompted the question. Whatever he had been expecting from the both of them, this.. this was not it. The muscles in his legs itched to move, to take him far away from this feelingsy conversation and questions involved in it.

“I’m leaving.” Logan croaked after a minute of pure silence.

As soon as his legs moved to make him stand he almost wobbled, but weak or not his legs could at least carry him to the door.

But apparently not fast enough, as like a snake in the grass, Janus’ hand darted out wrapping around Logan’s wrist and preventing him from taking even a single step away from the other side.

The grip wasn’t strong, and if Logan’s had really and truly tried he could have broken away from it. “Logan, please.” Janus softly intoned, attempting to keep his gaze firmly on Logan, and not on Roman coming up behind the logical side to stop him from making a break for it. “When was the last time you felt happy enough to smile? Please Logan...”

Wordlessly Logan shook his head at the request, as he pathetically attempted to tug his hand out of Janus’ grip. Even with that though, he couldn’t make himself muster the force to break it. He knew what the answer was, but he also knew that he didn’t want to answer it because that would just be one more way that he had failed to keep emotions away from his logical fallacy. It would just be one more way that he had failed at his one and only job, just another tally. But even so…

Logan’s bottom lip trembled for a second, with a truth that burdened his body and mind. “I don’t know.” The whisper came out cracked and broken, just another way to make the side that it had come from.

And with that one little utterance, his knees finally caved sending him back onto the spot he had just risen from.

“I don’t know.” He repeated again, now feeling the frustrated tears prickling at his eyes like pollen in the spring. “Why can’t I remember?!” He angrily and yet wetly huffed, as he tried with all his might to scrape away the tears from his face before they could ever begin. “I must have! I know that I must have recently! But.. but I just can’t remember!” Logan’s entire body shuddered with the force of the sob that rolled through him a hurricane decimating the coast. His hands clasped at his hair, as his arms shielded his face from the only two sides that had ever seen him cry.

He couldn’t remember the last time he had cried either, and try as he may… right now he couldn’t seem to stop.

He didn’t want to stop.

Here there were no stupid songs forcing him to sing out whatever emotions he was having.

Here there were no Patton’s to make puns about his feelings.

Here he didn’t have to uphold the needlessly rough standards he had for himself in front of Thomas.

Here he didn’t just have to be logic.

Here… with Roman and Janus on both sides of him… he was safe.

So he cried, he cried until he felt like he couldn’t cry anymore. Until every emotion he’d ever felt came spilling out of him all at once, for what must have been hours upon hours. Until his head was resting on Janus’ knee while the other side gingerly ran his fingers through his hair, soothing the dry sobs right out of him. Until he felt Roman’s blisteringly warm hands resting firmly on his back, promising not to go anywhere. For the first time he felt safe enough to let out these emotions, as scary and unpredictable as they may be.

The hand on his back moved a little. “Logan,” Came Roman’s voice close to his back, “I don’t want any of us to have to hide like this again. Janus has been hiding and masking himself for years, so have you, and… I don’t want to do it. I never want to have to do it to feel like I have to survive. That’s why I brought you here, that why Janus let me show you his room. If.. if we want things to start changing for the better… we have to take the first step.”

Sniffling, Logan raised his head a little, looking back at Roman’s surprisingly serious face. He supposed that in a way that Roman was right, he hadn’t even been sure for how long he was going to keep his unfeeling and emotionless facade up or if it would just eventually become a part of himself if he let it go on for long enough. What would have happened if Roman had never gotten him out of his bedroom? If he’d just let Logan be there, unhappy and locked away from everyone who intentionally and unintentionally hurt him.

Nothing would change.

Just one cycle after another, with all of them suffering in silence unable to read the other.

“We’re not mind readers.” Logan mumbled, more to himself than anything. “We shouldn’t expect the other to be either…”

“What?” Janus asked, unable to hear Logan through the folds of fabric, and judging from the look on Roman’s face he certainly hadn’t heard him any better either.

A light dusting of pink made its way over the tops of Logan’s ears.

Giving a little cough though he repeated himself. “I said…” Logan scratched the back of his neck. “None of us are mind readers, and we shouldn’t expect the others to be if we’re not. Hiding and scurrying away when it comes to our true feelings, and acting passive aggressive helps nothing if it just keeps building and building when nobody notices it.” Fiddling with the fabric Logan went on, feeling as if he was digging his own grave at this point. “If.. if someone brings something up in front of the others… we need to have each others’ back, especially if it's something… precious to us.”

Almost immediately Logan felt a pair of hands come up behind him ruffling up his hair, making it stick straight up in the air as Roman grinned at him. Before he even knew it Roman had hooked his arms from behind Logan, giving him the biggest squeeze of a hug that he’d ever felt. And the pride bursting within Janus’ eyes spoke leagues, even if there was nothing else about Janus’ body language that said so.

“If you tell me something that you want to be seriously taken, I won’t laugh at you. And I’ll make sure that the others won’t either.” Roman promised, but not before crossing a giant X over his heart and pretending to jab out his eye. “Janus, if you ever want to show up as you are, and not who they expect… I will stand behind them one hundred percent, and I will stand against them if they have anything bad to say about it at all.” He promised, warmth flooding his chest as he looked down at his two best friends. “I want the both of you to be comfortable and safe. I want you to be able to smile without worry.”

Logan hadn’t thought it possible for his week to end up like this, since the most recent interaction with Janus he’d felt shoved to the side and forgotten. To the point where he was ready to just decide in his room and not make any kinds of comments unless called on by another. But having Roman come to him, and having Roman make his promises…

It felt a lot like hope.

“I hope you know that I will do the same for you,” Logan uttered softness filling his voice, “If they say anything about your ideas that you’re excited for, or have anything to say about how you treat either of us… I have your back, I’ll stand by you.” And turning his gaze to Janus, the one side that he’d thought he’s have to fight against his falsehoods forever. He saw him for who he really was, and who he wanted to be. “I promise you… I will not ever let them laugh at you, I will take you seriously even if they try not to.” A tiny smile quirked onto Logan’s lips, the first one in a long while. “I’ll yell with my teacher's voice.”

“You two will always have a place here.” Janus uttered with a fair amount of reverence. “Through good and bad, if you need me I will be here for you. Should the others turn their backs on you. I won’t. That is a promise.”

Maybe it was just the warmth of Janus’ room, blazing even brighter, but…

They all felt a little warmer that night, ready to take on whatever demons laid in wait for them the next morning.

#logan sanders #ts logan #ts logan sanders #roman sanders #ts roman #ts roman sanders #janus sanders #ts janus #ts janus sanders #logan angst #roman angst #janus angst #ts sides #ts sanders sides #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides fanfic #ts sanders sides fanfic

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loveless-scribes · 3 years

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Uchiha Itachi: NSFW Alphabet

So, it has come to my attention that Itachi of the Uchiha has been done a disservice in the eyes of the internet and been called terrible names. *COUGH* vanilla *COUGH* basic *HACK* I assure you, my friends, nothing could be further from the truth! And so, I present to you, my interpretation of the one and only. Enjoy.

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

Aftercare is not optional. It is just as much a part of the experience as foreplay and the actual sex.

Will he clean you up? Not religiously, like it’s something he’ll do every time, but yes, he would. If you’re still feeling tired or lingering in bed by the time he’s gotten cleaned up, he wouldn’t think twice and just take care of you as well. If you mention that you think it’s sweet or you enjoy it, then… YES, he would absolutely start doing this religiously.

Expect hairstroking and holding you to his chest, letting you listen to his heartbeat. If you want to share your 4 AM thoughts here, he’ll be down for it and let you know what he thinks about your ideas. After you’ve fallen asleep he will stay awake sorting through his thoughts, over what it means to have you by his side and the risks involved for you. This is pretty much the only time in the day that it’s safe to be vulnerable with his thoughts and so, this is where he will think about what you mean to him, and press a kiss to your forehead before finally going to sleep himself.

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

Eyes, definitely. The eyes are known to be the windows to the heart and his own eyes define so much of his life and his destiny, so yes, he could stare into his partner’s eyes for an almost uncomfortably long time, drinking them in. I can’t really say he’s a butt or boobs guy cuz that’s not how his mind is wired. He’s wired to be mission-oriented and there’s no room in his mind for distractions but on his S/O he would appreciate and worship every inch of her.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Um… breeding kink, anyone? Defo see him as having one. Is this an underlying psychological thing because he was deprived of having a normal family? At the same time, though, he’s in no rush to have children of his own, because he knows what a terrible place this world can be. But the desire to spill his seed deep into his S/O’s womb is deeply ingrained. Modern birth-control would really solve this problem.

Also, swallowing. *COUGH* If someone does this for him it will go straight to his head. Prepare to be rewarded.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Hmm… I almost feel guilty about characterizing him like this, but I could see him somewhere deep down having a desire to have his partner submit to him? Not in the sense that he would ask for that, but if he had a wet dream about his S/O she would probably be on her knees, and he would feel guilty about it the next day and be a little sweeter than usual to her.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Okay! So, this is an unpopular opinion, but I don’t think Itachi is inexperienced! Even if we take Canon!Ita (but maybe age him up a little) I feel like there could be situations, mission-related, or pursued by women he objectively finds appealing, where saying no is just more inconvenient than going along with it. Especially if it’s for the sake of a mission, he wouldn’t think twice. Or if he does it in order to not blow his cover. While he does largely turn admirers away, more for their own good and because he’s generally not interested, I do believe he could have realistically encountered situations in his travels that led to sexual encounters. He hasn’t taken a vow of chastity, so I don’t see why he should go to unreasonable lengths to say no?

So yeah, in my mind he definitely has some experience, but not a whole lot. Obviously, he takes necessary precautions to ensure those brief dalliances stay just that.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Hahahaha, so I had to do some research to find out what this position is called. The Mastery? Basically, it’s woman on top but the couple is in a seated position. Meaning, he gets to look into your eyes and just basically, the heightened intimacy and closeness of this position are what does it for him. Also, he has more control than in the normal girl-on-top position, so he can control the pace somewhat and help you out.

But if you’re tired, he’ll pick you up and flip positions, he won’t wait for you to admit you’re tired and he won’t listen to your protests. He wants to see you out of your mind in ecstasy, not wondering whether or not you’re too tired to continue.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Alright, so it’s Itachi, right? He isn’t very jokey. That just is what it is. He might do something unintentionally that might make you giggle, or you could laugh out of nervousness and while he very much enjoys that sound he doesn’t really know how to provoke it from you. It’s just not his area of expertise. (Sorry, Ita. Couldn’t give you this one.)

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

Hmm… well, Itachi definitely is clean by nature, and is definitely well-groomed and particular in all aspects of his life, so… I’m going to go with trimmed. Neat and orderly. Just like everything else about him.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

I lowkey just want to link my oneshots to this, cuz they say it all, but alright! He will want to be connected to his S/O. That means either being able to see her face, or if the position doesn’t allow for it to hear her voice the entire time. He’s good at that. He’s so sweet and considerate and perceptive. He knows what’s working for you and what isn’t even without you saying a word, He may not have a whole lot of experience, but he has an innate talent (because doesn’t he just… with everything?) and he’s an exceptionally quick learner. He will legit ruin you for anyone else because if you ever ARE with anyone else and they snap at you, “What do you think I am, a mind reader?” You’ll realize what Itachi was doing.

So, yeah. He wants to make sure you’re into it and you’re taken care of and you’re near delirious with pleasure before he decides to let go himself. Being self-sacrificial and caring for others is in his nature. So, yeah, you really need to man up and figure out what he needs because he isn’t going to tell you. But you’re smart. You’ll work it out. (OR JUST READ THE REST OF THIS ALPHABET.)

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Sorry, no. Don’t see him doing this. You have to consider how disciplined the guy is, and how insanely busy. It really is kind of a waste of time at the end of the day and if he wants it that badly, he can just make the trip to see you.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Teasing, edging, getting you to beg. He feels bad for you, he really does. But how much more can you take? You won’t know until you know. He’ll reward you for your patience though. And let’s be honest, you’ll love it, teasing and all. Not to mention mindfucking you to oblivion.

So, I went through an alleged “complete” list of 239 kinks to try and answer this question and most of it was just… weird. So, let’s do this differently. What follows is an incomplete list of things I could potentially see him being into or good at or have an interest in. In no particular order: mirrors, sub/dom play (with a little coaxing and admitting to himself that this is even a thing that he’s into. It would absolutely be limited to the bedroom, though), sensory deprivation, and.... bear with me here, but… I could see him having a hand for Shibari. THINK ABOUT IT. Those knots and things they learned to tie in the ninja academy? And we know Itachi is the best of the best in everything he does. So, I don’t think this is beyond the realm of possibility.

Generally speaking, though, he just doesn’t have the time for this stuff. BUT IF HE DID…

And now, this is exclusive to AM!Ita but he most likely has a praise kink. Being hated and cursed for eons, and being disillusioned with his own role, if his S/O comes in and tells him how great he is, how handsome, how wonderful. How good he is at what he does. How wonderful he makes her feel. Mmmm. I can see that doing things to him. XD

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Ideally, in a lake or a river. Outdoor bathing spaces are generally approached with caution, so even if someone were to come by they would call out and make sure no one is there first, which means, less risk of getting caught. And I mean, this is Itachi… He’s an S-rank exiled nin. HE KNOWS HOW TO NOT GET CAUGHT. LOL. But yeah, he spends a lot of time out-of-doors. He’s more accustomed to the starry sky overhead than the roof of a house or woodland cabin. In my interpretation, he feels very much at peace when surrounded by nature and he would enjoy being intimate with you in that setting.

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

Confidence. Enthusiasm. Not necessarily seduction, if it’s a stranger he’s dealing with, this is more of a turn-off than anything. But if it’s his S/O and she turns up the charm and crooks a finger at him… You might even get a smile on that stoic face. I don’t see him being into the shy and stuttering type. If you blush and say, “No! St- stop!” He’ll literally stop. And probably apologize. AND NOT DO IT AGAIN.

If you try and explain to him that your no doesn’t mean no… Ah, yeah. He’s not into that. Be straightforward. Say what you mean. Don’t play games with him. He’ll see right through you.

That being said, being a lonely fighter all his life means he’s very sensitive to your touch. Just run a hand along his shoulder in passing and he’ll grab it and press a kiss to your palm, and haul you in. I could see him being into your hands. It really isn’t hard to turn him on, it’s hard to earn his trust and a position in his life that gives you the right to touch him and be touched by him. But when you’re there, it’s the easiest thing in the world. A smile, a kiss, a brush of your fingers over his collarbones. He’s a goner.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Pegging. This goes without saying. I can’t really think of much else he wouldn’t be into. I mean, stuff that’s a little more out there. Watersports. Daddy/Mommy kinks. Actual exhibitionism, (not genjutsu version) no way is he going to let anyone look in on your most intimate moments. Impact play. He knows very well what his hands are capable of, and there’s a lot of blood on them, so he really wouldn’t be into stuff that involves actually hurting you.

If his S/O likes it VERY rough, he might resort to genjutsu so that she gets what she wants, but he doesn’t have to actually hurt her. Other than that, bruising, choking, the usual level of roughness? Bring it on. Being adept with his hands also means he knows very well where that fine line between pain and pleasure is.

Not to mention, he’s very perceptive, so he’ll figure out what you’re into even without you saying it. He’s also very giving so he’ll focus more on your preferences than his own. But if the day ever comes where you realize what submission does to him… The man would be putty in your hands. Kukukukuku...

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

Both.

Giving, because he has absolute control over your pleasure, and because he enjoys how easily he can drive you out of your mind. We’ve established that he’s a terrible tease, so driving you to the brink and leaving you hanging, feeling every single one of your reactions… It’s good stuff.

Receiving takes the cake though. Being that vulnerable with someone, even having someone he can trust that much. It’s definitely something he’s very partial to, something that makes him soft towards you, and something that plays into his forbidden desire of seeing you submit, whether or not he’s aware of it. He’ll make sure to return the favor tenfold.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

This is an odd question I think, because… doesn’t it depend? On how much time he has, on how the two of you are feeling, on what the mood is?

Anyways, I’m going to go ahead and say slow and sensual because he really is a man who likes to take his time with you. He likes to feel every one of your responses, hear every little mewl and whimper and moan that crosses your lips. He definitely makes it an experience.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Not his preference, but he isn’t above having a quickie if that’s all that time allows. But he would definitely follow up with a proper session at a later time, then.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Itachi is so nice. He really is. There’s nothing you could want that he wouldn’t be willing to try at least once for your sake. I mean, apart from the stuff listed under “N”.

And would he take risks? YES, HE WOULD. Because his assessment of the risks varies greatly from yours. So, something that you would think is very risky, might seem not risky at all to him, because he knows exactly how to go unseen, unnoticed. You might think he’s being risky, but he’s well aware there was a 0% chance you were going to get caught. Because Itachi skillz.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Stamina! *insert sparkles* AM!Ita has been established in the works, so I think that needs no comment. Canon!Itachi is a freaking fighter. An S-class exiled nin. Someone who claims Itachi has no stamina wants to start something with me. DID YOU SEE HIM HAND SASUKE’S ASS TO HIM? Despite his illness? He lost because he CHOSE to lose. I don’t see the Akatsuki hauling out a wheelchair for Itachi to go on his missions, so don’t go telling me nothing about Itachi having no stamina. SHAKE MY HEAD WHILE JUDGING YOU.

Dude is strong as hell. And you can’t tell me some bedroom fun is more physically taxing than literal superhuman battles against huge ass tailed beasts! It’s just ridiculous. I’m not here to rant. Better calm down.

I’m here to tell you our man can go for at least three rounds and you will *GUARANTEED* always tire out before he does.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Yes. The sharingan. THE ONLY TOY YOU WILL EVER NEED. As mentioned above, he’s not above using his skills to heighten your pleasure, and mess with your mind. But actual, physical toys? Nah, the thought processes that would lead to considering, comparing, and actually purchasing those are just so foreign to his thinking. It would never even cross his mind. What can a toy even do that he can’t do better? (To his thinking anyway. Well, he’s not wrong.)

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He will make you beg. Absolutely. He’s totally unfair. He will have casual conversations with you while driving you out of your wits. And then he’ll ask you why you’re not answering him. Ask you what’s wrong. Ask you what you want. LIKE HE DOESN’T KNOW.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Itachi is very restrained and disciplined so, unfortunately, this means he isn’t very vocal. I know, cry with me, it’s such a waste. *hires an orchestra of the world’s smallest violins* BUT that means when you do manage to make him groan or moan in pleasure, it’s such a huge ego boost. Apart from the sounds he makes when hitting a climax, he’s generally in control and whispering praise and teasings into your ear or over your skin.

If you want him to talk, get on your knees and give him some head. Not kidding. Mentioned it above already. He gets to let go, a lot of his secret kinks are getting fulfilled, he feels vulnerable and is cool with it. He’ll dig his hands into your hair, cup your cheek, his eyes will roll into the back of his head and he’ll tell you on a low moan what a good girl you are.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

So, let’s say you’re waiting to talk to him and he’s busy meeting with some people or whatever and you’re standing off to the side patiently. He just briefly glances at you before turning back to his comrades and BOOM. Next thing you know, he’s got you by the neck, has you pinned against his desk/table/whatever (this was originally a Hokage!Ita headcanon so do with that what you will), and is doing unspeakable things to you in front of everyone. No sooner does the encounter come to an end, than you suddenly wake up and find yourself still standing right where you were, until it happens again, and this time he takes you against the wall. It’s an illusion wrapped in an illusion wrapped in an illusion more times than you can count and when you finally do come to your senses, you can barely stand. The meeting is over. Itachi turns toward you, “You wanted to speak with me?”

Ah, yes. Good old Itachi mindfuckery.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

I mean, muscles, yes? Lots of them. Man’s fit as a fiddle. He’s a ninja. So, yes, the entire delicious length of him is covered in lean, firm muscle. He’s clearly well-endowed because… he just is. Maybe not the longest cucumber in the farmer’s market (which isn’t to say he isn’t long, because he is… don’t claim I called him short) but thick and veiny and above all else, attached to a man with a brain who knows how to use it efficiently. Thank you for coming to my TEDtalk.

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

This is a tough one, because the constraints are not on his drive, but on his time. He’ll take whatever chances he can to be with you. AM!Ita is established to have a very high sex drive, but he also has restraint, so when you’re not into it, he’s cool with it. As if that would ever happen. So, I would have to say, the actual encounters will unfortunately be far between because of his lifestyle, but he will always make up for lost time.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Kind of already mentioned this above, that those moments afterwards with you are his most vulnerable moments where he feels relatively safe and at ease, so he stays awake for a long time after, sorting through his thoughts. Also, he won’t say this to you, but it’s his job to protect you, so there is no way he’ll fall asleep before you do. Not gonna happen.

#uchiha itachi #itachi #alphabet #itachi smut

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fanficsforheartandsoul · 4 years

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Courtship | [Obi-Wan Kenobi x M!Reader] | Star Wars

Notes: This is inspired by @xmalereader Mandalorian x Dark Fey! Reader story. I absolutely adore his stories and the concept, therefore I wanted to write something similar, only with Obi-Wan.

Although this is based off Maleficent: Mistress of Evil, I just mainly used the character designs, while deciding the culture of the Dark Fey myself. So it could be interpreted as an AU

Fandoms: Star Wars, The Clone Wars, Maleficent AU

Warnings: Heartbreak, Slight Fluff, Slight OOC, Obi-Wan Being Oblivious

Summary: Obi-Wan knows nothing about courtship and causes a huge misunderstanding.

Word Count: 7′455

Taglist: -

If you want to be tagged in my stories send me a pm with the fandom/character name! Or comment on the fic :)

Masterlist

Reader is a Dark Fey!

Obi-Wan, Anakin, and Ahsoka had been on an undercover rescue mission when the transport ship that should have taken them back to the Core Worlds malfunctioned.

That only worsened the mood because their mission target had died and Obi-Wan had gotten his lightsaber destroyed in the process.

Anakin, the great pilot he was, decided it was for the best to try and land on the nearest planet and get help.

But none of them had expected that the small multicolored ball they had landed on only housed a few inhabitants - most of which had never seen a spaceship, or even a droid.

Thankfully they found one of the more progressive tribes.

They had a person who spoke Basic, and fortunately, C-3PO was with them for the rescue mission, so they had another way to communicate. Although, the language of the natives was only partly in his database.

The alien race who lived on the small planet was a species they had never seen before. They were all winged, with feathers of different colors and lengths, and two large horns that were different for each individual.

They called themselves Dark Fey, however the name didn't seem accurate. At least not for him. Dark wasn't a word Obi-Wan would have associated with them.

Especially not with the man who had taken them in.

Y/N was the son of the tribe chief of the village, and his wings reminded the Jedi of a butterfly in one of the Jedi gardens. They were mainly orange, with a speck of white and black and some small blue dots.

His father's wings were even more colorful, but Obi-Wan preferred the ones of the son because they were less shrill.

And like the color of his wings, Y/N was kinder than his father. He wanted to help them find a way back to Coruscant.

"Father, we need to help them," argued the h/c-haired man, his eyes glistening with annoyance when his stubborn parent crossed his arms and flipped his wings.

The three Jedi were currently in one of the giant tree trunks, in the forest where the Fey resided, in a room as big as the Jedi Archives. It seemed to be the tribe's meeting hall.

Y/N's father Aster sat on a throne made out of small tree branches, his red and orange wings spread wide behind his back.

"Don't act like that, please," groaned Y/N, and Anakin and Obi-Wan only watched with furrowed brows, not understanding what kind of conversation was going on between the two men.

C-3PO informed them about the dispute between the son and the father, and they realized that the tribe chief did not want them here.

Ahsoka happily munched on the fruits that one of the younger Fey had brought, oblivious or more likely ignorant of the tense atmosphere in the hall.

Although the Fey appeared not to welcome them, they still provided them with some hospitality. The Togruta flashed a toothy grin at one of the kids, and they giggled.

"You know exactly why I don't want to help them!"

Y/N's father looked at the three Jedi with a stern expression, and the only person in the room who wanted to support them huffed in anger.

"We'll be careful!"

The tension suddenly rose, and Obi-Wan assumed it was because the younger's wings now rose too, his feathers ruffled.

"May I say something?" he asked carefully, all eyes then turned to him.

The five women next to Aster leaned forward to listen, they were probably the elders of the tribe.

Y/N turned to him, his eyes held a hint of displeasure, and Obi-Wan gulped, now asking himself if he had just made a big mistake.

"Speak, human," ordered the tribe chief, the Fey who spoke Basic translated, and he bowed slightly, then made eye contact with Y/N's father.

"We are only looking for a spaceship that can take us off-planet. We don't want to burden you with our presence and neither wish to harm you, we can also camp outside your land if you wish us to."

The pupils of Aster shrank considerably, the air turned cold, and Ahsoka stopped eating. Anakin gave him a worried glance, and the Jedi realized that he had said or done something wrong.

He lowered his gaze, and Anakin mimicked his posture, his hand gripping his lightsaber inside his sleeve tighter.

Silence reigned over them, and Obi-Wan tried to catch a glimpse of the tribe chief, but then Y/N stepped before him, obstructing his view.

"Father...", he began, but Aster interrupted him, standing up from his throne, wings now spreading even further, showing his hostility.

"You became a burden when you stepped foot on this planet!", he snarled and descended the stairway made out of the giant tree.

His son held his ground and ruffled his feathers. A single feather touched Obi-Wan's cheek, and he flinched from the softness.

He looked upwards, and the man before them looked like an unmovable stone, an unbeatable protector, who had descended from heaven to help them.

"They did not know, Father! And they had no choice either!"

Y/N's voice now sounded as agitated as his father's, and the situation was about to escalate - although the Jedi did not know into what - when a calm voice suddenly spoke:

"Believe in your son, Aster."

Everyone in the hall turned toward the gigantic entrance where a single Dark Fey had landed.

It was a woman with snow-white wings and silky hair that reached her hips. The present Fey bowed, and the Jedi knew that the newcomer was a respected figure within the tribe.

From the way Y/N smiled at her and how the woman opened her arms wide, she probably was related to him, although their features showed no real resemblances, besides maybe the eyebrows. Y/N hugged her without hesitation.

"You're back," stated Aster, and his wings slightly relaxed.

The woman smiled and then turned to Obi-Wan, Anakin, and Ahsoka.

"I apologize that I could not greet you when you arrived here. I am Neela, and you're names are?" she spoke in Basic, and all three of them were surprised.

Although it probably shouldn't shock them that much, when they first met Y/N, he also spoke the language.

The translator seemed to have taught it to the ones who wanted to learn it.

Anakin introduced himself first, a brilliant smile on his lips. Obi-Wan rolled his eyes in his mind. His former padawan had probably realized that Neela seemed to be the only one who could tame the tribe chief to some extent.

Ahsoka greeted the woman with a respectful bow, and Obi-Wan did the same when he said his name.

He stole a glance towards Y/N who's lips now showed a triumphant grin. The man noticed his stare and winked at him. His expression was something along the lines of 'Don't worry, we got this'.

It seemed like the arrival of the white-haired woman turned the tides in their favor.

"I heard you are stranded. Your arrival here is of great significance for us. My husband knows that, and his caution is not unreasonable. We do not wish to get involved with the galactic conflicts that are waging right now, I hope you understand."

So, she's Aster's wife... But Y/N truly doesn't resemble her.

Obi-Wan was curious about the woman. She knew more about the galaxy than the rest of the Dark Fey, or so it seemed.

He nodded, and Anakin replied:

"We do. None of us wants to involve you in the war, we're just trying to return home. Our ship is badly damaged, therefore we wanted to find someone who can take us with them."

While Neela asked about their transmitters, Aster's face darkened, the further the conversation continued, but he did not interrupt his wife.

Ahsoka's eyes glistened with respect, and Obi-Wan could imagine what she was thinking. Aster may be the tribe chief, but Neela held the reins in their relationship, which influenced the whole tribe and important decisions.

Anakin then informed them of the last SOS-signal they had sent before they breached the atmosphere of the planet.

"Someone is probably already looking for us," added Obi-Wan, and Aster's eyes turned into slits.

"They will come and force us to leave!" he growled, more towards his wife than the Jedi.

Neela turned around to face her husband, and he visibly flinched. The woman spread her white wings, and her wingspan was even wider than her husband's and Y/N's. Her aura was way more intimidating than the tribe chief’s one.

"They won't stay, I will make sure of that."

She spoke in their native language, but C-3PO translated it, although reluctantly, and the underlying threat worried Obi-Wan.

If no one arrives will they try to kill us?

But Aster relaxed, and he stepped towards his wife, their foreheads touched, and the tribe chief sighed.

Neela's wings lowered, and she then turned around again, her hand on her husband's back.

"You are welcome to stay until your friends arrive. We will make sure that they will find you."

Their action before not only was a display of intimacy but also an opportunity for a silent conversation, where they had decided if they would help the Jedi or not.

Relief washed over Obi-Wan, and Anakin's shoulders relaxed.

As if on cue ran the Fey children from the one corner of the hall towards Ahsoka, and they laughed and fluttered their wings excitedly. They spoke a few words in broken Basic and twirled around her.

The Togruta blinked in surprise and then joined their happy laughs and followed them to their friends.

Obi-Wan and his former padawan cautiously stood up. Anakin only watched when the small bird-like kids kidnapped the Togruta, his expression showing a hint of worry.

"She will be fine," said a calm voice, and the Jedi knights’ heads turned towards Y/N, who had walked closer.

"I'm worried she'll do something offensive," confessed Anakin, and the man laughed loudly.

His head tilted back, showing a necklace with a long blue feather and his wings flapped wildly.

"Not to be mean, but you already offended us greatly, another misstep won't matter."

The Fey continued to laugh when he saw their upset expressions.

"Don't fret it. it's already a miracle that your droid knows parts of our language. How would you know about our culture."

Neela joined their talk. Her eyes focused on Anakin.

"May I talk to you?"

He shared a look with Obi-Wan and then shrugged his shoulders.

"Sure," he responded, and they distanced themselves, Obi-Wan now being left alone with the chief's son.

"Why..." he began, unsure whether he should ask or not.

"She can feel he's special."

He lifted an eyebrow.

"Feel?"

Y/N turned his in Neela's direction.

"Mother is like you. She was chosen too."

Obi-Wan could guess what Y/N meant, and it honestly didn't surprise him as much as it probably should have. The moment Neela had stepped into the hall, the force had changed around them.

"What about you?" he asked curiously.

Y/N's expression turned somewhat solemn.

"No, I- I wasn't chosen. It's not possible."

The Fey's hand grabbed his necklace, and his wings quivered.

Obi-Wan realized he had touched a sore spot and decided not to pry further.

"Come with me", said Y/N after a short while, and his smile returned to his lips.

"I'll show you where you guys can stay."

The Jedi followed him out of the hall, after glancing back one last time to see Anakin and Ahsoka standing surrounded by Fey.

Y/N lead him across the branches of the giant tree, which seemed to be the main living area of the tribe.

Twice, they used a hoist to travel higher up, the Fey explaining that they had been built for their youngest who couldn't fly yet.

The Jedi could stay in a room, hollowed out of the main branch. The room was sparsely decorated with wooden furniture, and instead of beds, there were three hammocks made out of thick green fabric that felt considerably softer than it looked.

Obi-Wan put his small backpack he had taken from the ship on the table and then turned towards Y/N.

"Thank you for everything."

He smiled at the Fey, and the man's expression twitched.

"It's fine", he responded curtly, and before Obi-Wan could ask if something was wrong, he had already passed through the leaf curtain that gave the room some privacy and jumped off the branch.

Obi-Wan stayed behind with a somewhat worried expression. He remembered what the man had said before. “You already offended us greatly.”

Hopefully they weren’t digging their own graves.

They stayed on the small planet, in the giant forest for about a month, and in the beginning, they held their respectable distance from the Dark Fey.

They got invited to meals and attended them, but only Y/N, Neela, and the translator, who turned out to be a teacher and one of the only Fey who had left the planet before, really talked to them.

If the children were excluded.

They had a great time with Ahsoka, and she played with them and even found some friends in her age group, who were studying under Danosh, the translator. Thanks to him, most of the children could speak a few words in Basic, allowing Ahsoka to communicate with them.

Aster had instructed the tribe members to treat them with respect and give them everything they needed, but his hospitality ended there.

He did not include them in any kind of activities the tribe performed besides the meals.

The Dark Fey were a close-knitted species, and the tribe of Y/N did almost everything together. They ate together, hunted together, played together, and even slept together.

They seemed very suspicious of strangers - at least the adults - and they mostly kept to themselves, only talking to the Jedi if necessary.

While Ahsoka got mostly occupied with the children, Anakin's attention got caught by Neela, with whom he even traveled to one of the Fey's sacred places for the Chosen.

Obi-Wan got mostly accompanied by Y/N, but he did not mind that at all.

He enjoyed the other's presence, and his open-hearted character and he talked with the man about all kinds of things.

He told him stories about the Jedi, the beauty of the Jedi gardens on Coruscant, the vast ice tundras of Ilum, and the force.

On the other hand, Y/N taught him about the Fey culture, the significance of one's first flight, the meaning of life according to the elders.

He told Obi-Wan the story of the Batellia flower, that would soon bloom at a day the tribe celebrated.

"The flower blooms for a very short time and then it dies, its roots forming a bond with another plant."

Obi-Wan had asked the Fey why they celebrated that day then.

"Batellia portrays the honest truth of our lives. We live, we die and then we join the Ancestors and the Phoenix Mother."

Y/N also told the Jedi about the worst punishment a Fey could receive - losing one's wings, and the importance of death in their culture.

But one thing he did not talk about because he thought Obi-Wan knew.

For him, it was obvious; Something even the wingless humans should know about, but well...

Maybe the Jedi were just too dumb.

"What's that?" asked Anakin, pointing at the shimmering blue stone on Obi-Wan's nightstand while drying his hair.

He looked at the stone he was pointing at.

"It's a present from Y/N. It's a "Soulstone" according to him. It glows in the dark."

He smiled faintly, remembering when Y/N gave it to him.

It's already been three weeks since they had stranded on the small planet, and the Fey had found them. And he and the chief’’s son had formed a close bond.

They had traveled twice to their spaceship, Obi-Wan showing it to him and explaining the mechanisms while Y/N watched from a safe distance, seemingly too scared to approach the metal beast.

Y/N also accompanied him to highest tree they had, trying to send another SOS signal. He caught him, when he almost slipped and Obi-Wan clung to him like dear life, because they were so high up.

The Fey had only laughed, his eyes glimmering with something Obi-Wan couldn’t quite place.

His former padawan looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"And the one next to it? Also a present?"

"All of them are presents, Anakin", said Ahsoka, who had suddenly appeared and now strut to her backpack, a new load of her favorite fruits in her arms.

"What about me? I want a present from Y/N too."

The Togruta eyed him strangely, then muttered something to herself and grinned.

"They are just things he had found on his regular trips to the river," Obi-Wan said, trying to calm Anakin.

Although he also questioned why he seemingly was the only one who regularly received gifts from Y/N.

On the other hand, he felt a tingling sensation in his chest, somewhat proud that the Fey apparently viewed him as special.

"Did Neela not give you a present?"

Anakin shook his head but then replied: "I don't really care, the things I've learned on our trips to their temples are more than enough. Did you know that the Chosen use the power of their emotions to strengthen their force abilities? They aren't unleashing them like the Sith, apparently, but I don't really understand the difference yet. Neela will tell me more tomorrow. She's busy with the preparations of today's feast."

Anakin's voice was full of excitement while he talked, and Obi-Wan got reminded of his early padawan days when the boy had commented on every little thing with amazement.

"What's different this time?" he asked, Ahsoka watching the both of them silently, her fruits now stored in her backpack for tomorrow when she would go on a trip with one of the Fey at her age.

"They will perform dances after eating. It's going to be quite a spectacle, according to Neela. She wanted us to stay and witness it."

Obi-Wan furrowed his brows, sitting up from his lying position in his hammock.

"Is that really such a good idea? Aster still doesn't seem too keen on having us around."

Anakin shook his head and pointed at him.

"No, we must come. Especially you, the chief actually requested it."

The Jedi's eyes widened.

Aster personally demanded that he attended? Why?

Obi-Wan wasn't delighted to see the dances after hearing that, and he went to the daily feast with a queasy gut feeling.

The meal went like normal.

The Fey sat in groups in the big hall, various bowls with different dishes on the ground, some of them vegetarian, some with fish, others with meat.

The ages were mixed, and Ahsoka, Obi-Wan, and Anakin got accompanied by several small Fey who had played with the Togruta before.

Normally, Y/N and Neela would be in their circle too, but this evening they were nowhere to be seen.

"Probably still preparing", said Ahsoka, and Anakin nodded with a full mouth.

They both anticipated the dances, while he was the only one who somehow couldn't.

He just worried why Aster would want him to be there.

Not having Y/N around made it worse. The man had acted as a calming presence in the last few weeks, and Obi-Wan had begun to like him a lot.

The Fey was thirsty for knowledge, kind, and also understanding. He liked to listen and Obi-Wan always felt some sort of proudness, when he could guess Y/N’s thoughts or feelings correctly from the way his wings and feathers moved.

The Fey seemed to shine like a light, he was very popular with the others of his species, especially the female ones, and it was obvious that he would be the next chief.

Although, he wasn't Neela's son.

His mother, Aster's first wife, had died a long time ago, and his father had remarried. Neela gave birth to two other sons, but they both did not want to follow in their father's footsteps.

Y/N didn't dislike his father for remarrying, he loved Neela like his own mother, and she loved him like he was her own son.

Obi-Wan admired their strong bonds and Y/N's personality.

He was comfortable around the other man, so comfortable that he had confessed the secret feelings he had harbored for Satine Kryze.

Y/N had listened silently and then patted his shoulder to comfort him. He didn't say a word of judgment, silence was the only thing they shared at that moment, but Obi-Wan felt so much better after telling him.

Everything went well, and although they had been here for three weeks and he knew that Cody and the High Council were probably dying from worry, he felt relaxed and content.

When he swayed in his hammock in the evening, the stars visible through the carved out window at the ceiling, his hand holding the “Phoenix’s heart” - another stone Y/N had brought him that was always warm - he even dared to think that he wouldn't mind staying with the tribe forever.

But now...

Now the peacefulness seemed to be in danger.

Obi-Wan barely ate anything, and when Aster finally stood up, the Jedi couldn't stop his whole body from tensing up.

"Let us go to the Ancestors Realm!" the tribe chief shouted, and the present Fey joined in a cry of joy.

"Come on!" squeaked one of the children and grabbed Anakin's arm.

Another clung to Obi-Wan, and the young Fey pulled the three Jedi towards the hall entrance with surprising strength.

The Ancestors Realm was a place at the crown of the giant tree. They had to use nine hoists so get up there and when they arrived, the air was considerably thinner.

It was a flat plateau out of red lichen, the tufts at the border of the round area were glowing, and it did look like from another realm. In the middle of the plateau burned a bright fire, illuminating the faces of the arriving people.

The Fey sat at the edges, Ahsoka went to the new friends she had made, and Obi-Wan and Anakin joined Aster and Neela, the latter had shown up out of nowhere.

The tribe chief greeted them with a smile, which surprised both of them, and he motioned for Obi-Wan to sit next to him. He hesitated for a second, but when the chief looked at him with true friendliness in his eyes he gave in.

The Jedi carefully sat next to Aster, avoiding the man's wings, which he had leisurely spread behind him, and then crossed his legs.

"Are you ready?" asked the leader, and Obi-Wan smiled weakly.

"Yes...?" his answer sounded more like a question, and the man next to him laughed.

"You'll like it, I'm sure."

He could only nod, a big lump in his throat.

He knew that Aster was watching him intently from the side, but he had no clue why.

But before he could ponder over it, one of the elder Fey began to hum, and the rest of the Fey immediately joined.

It was a tribal melody, and it resounded deep in Obi-Wan's chest. Aster started clapping in a rhythm, and the male Fey followed his lead, while Neela clapped another beat, and the women did the same.

The humming was accompanied by the beating of a drum and a sudden cry caused the female Fey to shout.

It was strange for the Jedi, but all three of them were mesmerized by the following scene.

The shouts were a signal for the dancers, and seemingly out of nowhere appeared the few missing Fey. Among them was also Y/N, who Obi-Wan could only recognize because of his wings.

The dancers were a group of males who wore masks that covered their entire faces, their bodies decorated with glowing paint.

They flew a circle above the sitting Fey, and their wings spread, causing loose feathers to descend.

Obi-Wan caught one, and it only took him a glance to know to whom it belonged.

Aster flashed a grin at him and motioned him to clap too.

He put the feather carefully in his robe, worried that he damaged it, and then joined the clapping, feeling excited from the display of the dancers.

They twisted and turned with surprising speed and elegance, and when they landed, the actual dance began, and the sound of various music instruments echoed in the tree crown.

The young men all randomly picked a person in the crowd and started to perform in front of them.

Their wings were the main attraction of the dance. They spread them and flapped, showing off their brilliant colors.

Obi-Wan watched in amazement, not realizing that a certain person was staring at him intently.

A light shove from Aster startled him, and he noticed the person who had gotten closer to him.

Y/N's eyes glistened from behind the mask, and the glowing blue body paint gave him the appearance of an ethereal being.

He twirled and then hid his lower face with his left wing. His e/c eyes pulling Obi-Wan's attention towards Y/N like magic. The Jedi felt like he was in a trance.

The Fey looked beautiful, but at the same time powerful, his sturdy muscles visible thanks to the fire.

A flame began to burn in his heart and it reminded him of something, however, he couldn’t figure out what.

The feathers shook when the music quickened, and the Fey jumped from one foot to the other, his heels never touching the ground.

The Jedi followed the man's every move, too enthralled to notice how Aster and Neela were staring at him with pleased smiles.

Anakin looked at them with a wondering expression, not knowing what they were thinking.

Obi-Wan's mind got filled with a thousand thoughts. His heartbeat had quickened, and the sudden wish of taking a holographic photo of Y/N dancing surged through his veins.

He didn't expect the man to be able to move like this, like an elegant warrior.

It was a traditional dance, the other men of the group performed the same routine, but Y/N's was somehow special.

It felt sensual and, at the same time, like a plead.

The man's wings stretched towards Obi-Wan. Had he leaned a little forward, his nose could have touched a feather.

The music turned to a crescendo, and he knew the dance would be over soon, already a little disappointed.

With a sudden move back, Y/N spread his arms, that had also reached out for the Jedi, to the side and his wings darted back and froze in a position similar to the Jedi order's symbol.

The ending was improvised by him, the wings of the other dancers had stopped in a different pose. Obi-Wan’s heart jumped and he let out a shaky breath.

The Fey for whom the other dancers had danced began to stand up and clap and howl wildly, their ardor audible in their voices, and Anakin and Obi-Wan joined in.

The dancers walked up to the audience members they had chosen and they pressed their foreheads together. Obi-Wan watched their display of affection with a big smile. He loved the kindness the Fey held for each other.

The tribe leader couple also stood up, he following their lead, when Aster suddenly pulled him closer with an arm around his neck, and the tribe chief asked him:

"Did you like it?"

And Obi-Wan could only exclaim with an excited tone:

"Yes! It was wonderful!"

Y/N's father showed a very pleased expression and then let go of him.

The Jedi wondered for a moment if that was the only thing he wanted to know, but his attention shifted when a glowing figure appeared in his peripheral vision.

"Obi-Wan" uttered Y/N, while taking his mask off, his breathing was slightly heavy.

"Y/N, you were amazing! The dance displayed so many emotions, I loved it!"

The Fey stopped short in his track, and then his lips formed a breathtaking smile, which reminded him of the sunrise in the morning.

"Thank you!"

Obi-Wan's head got suddenly grabbed by the other man, and their foreheads touched in a swift motion.

Y/N's skin felt hot from the dancing, and the Fey's breathing shook his shoulders, but Obi-Wan was solely focusing on the man's closed eyes.

Their position felt almost too intimate, his heartbeat pounded loudly in his ears, but he did not move back, ignoring the sudden flutter in his chest, telling himself this was courtesy and showing his respect for Y/N.

He expected the other to pull his head back, but the Fey did not move, until his father patted his shoulder and laughingly boomed:

"That's enough, son. You'll have plenty of time for that later."

Y/N finally pulled back, although not stepping far away, and he turned to his father, shooting him a glare. Obi-Wan stood somewhat dazed, blinking wildly, and wondering what Aster meant with later.

"I'm proud of you, Y/N!" said Neela, and she hugged the man.

The Jedi smiled at the display of their feelings, and he distanced himself to give them some space and to calm his beating heart.

Get it together. Your heart is acting as if you’re in love.

He turned to Anakin, who talked to Ahsoka, both their expressions still showing amazement.

"That was soo cool!" squealed the Togruta, and his former padawan agreed.

"I now feel the desire to have wings too," added Obi-Wan to the conversation, and they turned around to greet him.

Ahsoka's eyebrows shot up, and she grinned somewhat disbelievingly.

"So, you did it," she said, a matter of factly.

"I did what?" he asked, not understanding what she meant.

She gestured towards his face, and he tilted his head in confusion.

"You got paint on your forehead." Anakin said while watching his padawan with questioning eyes, but the Togruta didn't say what she was hinting at.

And he didn't find out until the end of the evening.

After he had talked to the two other Jedi, Y/N had shown up again and told him that he had to attend a family meeting.

He was apologetic, his expression showing clear annoyance and Obi-Wan felt bad for the Fey, although it wasn't such a big deal for him.

They could talk about his performance tomorrow.

So they said goodnight to each other, Y/N once again pressing his forehead to Obi-Wan's, who let it go without a word.

Aster and Neela also left.

They only waved at them, the tribe chief winking at Obi-Wan, leaving the Jedi once again puzzled about why the man had changed his behavior so suddenly.

Although the Fey poured out some delicious alcohol, the three Jedi decided to go back to their room. They were surprisingly tired from seeing the performance.

When Obi-Wan had already laid down in his hammock, Ahsoka addressed him:

"Congratulations, Master."

He lifted his head to peek over the hammock's edge.

"Congrats for what?"

"You and Y/N."

He didn't understand a word.

"What do you mean?" he asked, his voice sounding slightly worried.

"Don't you know?" she said, now sitting up inside her hammock.

He only blinked. Ahsoka's expression turned baffled.

"The performance today got danced by courting Fey."

Obi-Wan opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out, then his eyes widened.

"Are you saying... Y-Y/N..?", he finally squeezed through his lips, realisation slowly dawning on him.

She mirrored his shocked expression.

"You didn't know?! But you accepted!"

He was panicking now.

"Accepted what and when?!"

Anakin walked into the room, unaware of the sudden revelation.

"What's going o-"

"The forehead touch!"

Obi-Wan sank back into his hammock, his heartbeat thundering in his ear. He had gotten a confession and he didn’t even realize.

"Oh, what have I done?"

The next morning, Obi-Wan felt no motivation to stand up.

He wasn't ready to clear up the misunderstanding that had happened yesterday.

He hadn't known that the dance was about courtship, nor that the forehead was something only romantically involved Fey would do.

He just thought it was something intimate that friends, partners, and family did. The other dancers had done it too, but now he knew the real reason.

That’s why not all of them touched foreheads, they got rejected!

But apparently, he was wrong.

And now he had to take the consequences.

"Come on, old man. Get up", said Anakin with a laugh, and he made his former master's hammock sway.

"Why can't I just die right now of old age?" he sighed, feeling dreadful about what was about to come.

Anakin snorted, and he finally sat up.

He had to talk to Y/N before the whole thing escalated.

But oooh, it already had.

"How did you not realize?!" shouted Y/N.

The Fey was shaking Obi-Wan by the shoulder.

"How should’ve I known?!" he shot back, now also agitated, after the other had told him his parents practically considered them being already married.

"I brought you all these presents!"

"Friends do that from where I come from!"

"You kept my feather!"

"I thought it would be a great memento!"

"I let you touch my wings!!"

"How should I know that's considered to be something intimate?!"

Their voices got louder and louder, and their argument caught the attention of some unwanted spectators.

A group of young Fey had begun to follow their conversation behind some branches, but Obi-Wan didn’t acknowledge them, too angry and panicked at the moment.

Y/N's wings had begun to flip in obvious anger, while Obi-Wan furrowed his brows in annoyance.

"I literally danced for you at the courtship ceremony!"

Obi-Wan gnashed his teeth in frustration.

"How was I supposed to know it was about that?! Anakin only told me it was a dance performance!!"

"But you-you said I danced amazing and you loved it!”

The Jedi didn’t respond to that, only showing a guilty expression.

The Fey bit his lips when he finally realized how grave their misunderstanding was.

"I didn't know...", muttered Obi-Wan, feeling helpless because he knew he had hurt the other.

"Forget it," growled Y/N, then he turned in a swift motion and darted from the tree branch. His wings flapped with such a force that a few feathers fell.

The Jedi only watched how they slowly descended, and they seemed to represent his heart.

It sunk, and a sudden pain in his chest caused him to clench his jaw.

How should I have known?

He told himself that he had had no idea, but deep in his chest whispered a voice that he did. Y/N’s feelings were obvious.

Maybe he just didn’t want to acknowledge them, knowing that nothing could come out of their relationship.

Even if you do like me, Y/N, we can’t be together.

A few days passed, and the atmosphere had turned awkward.

Aster's sudden goodwill had as quickly disappeared as it had come.

After the chief had learned of the misunderstanding, he had almost attacked Obi-Wan. Neela held him back successfully though.

Anakin felt guilty for being partly at fault, and Ahsoka also apologized for not telling him what she had known about the courtship rules.

They spent their days waiting for any kind of sign of the Republic, and they became restless.

Obi-Wan felt genuinely guilty for misleading Y/N, and he grieved for their friendship, which seemed like it had already ended.

The Fey hadn't shown himself to any of the Jedi, and Obi-Wan couldn't help but worry because neither Neela nor Aster had seen their son after he and the Jedi had argued.

Then, one day, a Fey appeared in the great hall, informing Aster of the gigantic triangle that had appeared in the sky and the small flying objects that had landed somewhere close to the forest's border.

Anakin shouted triumphantly, and Obi-Wan felt relief wash over him.

But at the same time, he felt a pang in his chest.

He didn't want to leave, not before he cleared the bad blood between him and Y/N.

But Cody and Captain Rex found a scout of the tribe pretty soon, and they finally reunited only a week after the courtship ceremony.

"Good to see you alive and well, general," said Cody, and Obi-Wan smiled weakly at him.

"Good to see you too, commander."

The clones got accompanied by Plo Koon, and Ahsoka was delighted to see the Jedi master again.

While Anakin and his padawan were happy about their rescue, Obi-Wan couldn't stop himself from wishing they had come later. Now he wouldn’t get another chance to talk with Y/N.

He collected his belongings and hesitated when it came to Y/N's presents. The various crystals and shells on his nightstand.

He contemplated whether to take them with him or not, but the thought of leaving them behind hurt him and he decided to bring them home.

Although they had parted with sour feelings, he still appreciated the memories he had made with Y/N. And his heart honestly didn’t want to forget anything, not even the forehead, which apparently symbolized a kiss.

They Fey did not publicly kiss, one of the things they didn’t display to others, Ahsoka had told him.

When he heard about that, he couldn’t stop his brain from forming all kinds of thoughts and his ears had turned pink.

He walked up to me and kissed me, figuratively!

The misunderstanding was really a disaster.

He now also knew why the other Fey had treated him with more respect even though Aster seemed to hate him again.

It was because he was the object of the future tribe leader’s affections - although he had rejected him.

He shook his head to get rid of the thoughts and left the room, Y/N’s presents stored in his backpack.

He bid farewell to Danosh and the other Fey who had treated him nicely and then joined Anakin and Ahsoka who waited with Cody, Captain Rex and some other clones next to Aster and Neela.

The tribe leader couple accompanied them to the ground and their canon gun ships.

Obi-Wan watched the ships from the border of the gigantic forest and his chest tightened.

Y/N...

He bit his lip, his heart now clenching from the idea of leaving and never coming back.

They were half way there, when Aster and Neela stopped walking.

“We’re not going any further”, explained the white-haired woman and Anakin sighed. He said goodbye first. The chief only nodded at him, but Neela gave him a long hug and whispered something into his ear, while caressing his hair.

Obi-Wan could see that the woman somewhat appeared to be like a mother-figure for Anakin. He felt the pain of saying goodbye in Anakin’s force presence.

Ahsoka also gave Neela a hug and she bowed at Aster who surprisingly patted her shoulder and said:

“Stay sharp, little one.”

The Togruta beamed and then it was Obi-Wan’s turn. He looked at the chief and behind the animosity in his eyes, he could see genuine regret.

He didn’t know what to say and just awkwardly stood there, when Aster coughed and grumbled:

“You would’ve been a splendid son-in-law.”

The Jedi blinked and Anakin couldn’t stop a snort, laughing silently at the blush that swept across his former master’s cheeks.

“Uh- thank you.”

“Obi-Wan,” said Neela and she opened her arms wide. He willingly walked into her embrace and she also caressed his hair, while hiding his embarrassment with her wings.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. If he couldn’t tell it Y/N personally, he would tell his mother.

“It’s alright. Y/N is a little hasty sometimes, especially when it comes to his feelings. I’m not trying to say he rushed into the idea of liking you...”

Obi-Wan’s cheeks heated up again, not knowing how to react when a woman, who was the mother of the man who liked him, openly talked about her son’s and his relationship.

“He’s genuine, but stubborn. He was born here and never set foot on another planet. You swept him off his feet and he got too excited, not registering that our manners and traditions are unknown to you.”

He nodded into her shoulders and she let him go to look into his face. Her blue eyes glimmered with kindness.

“I’m glad you were his first love.”

He blinked and her sentence hit him right in the gut. Oh, wow, he really hurt the man, huh.

She traced the line his knitted eyebrows made and smiled.

“It’s not your fault, Obi-Wan.”

He wanted to reply something but he had a lump in his throat and could only nod.

She let go of him and he stepped back, his expression showing how sad he was about their departure.

“Goodbye.”

The Jedi and clones turned and began to walk away. Every step physically hurt Obi-Wan and he breathed out shakily, face looking down to not see Anakin’s and Ahsoka’s possibly judging expressions.

Suddenly, a shadow sped across the plain and before he could look up, a person landed right before his feet, causing him to make a step back.

He tilted his head, startled, his eyes meeting e/c ones. Time seemed to stop.

"Obi-Wan," breathed Y/N and the Jedi's heart started to pound faster.

"You came," he hesitantly said, his tone revealed his relief.

"Yeah... I have to tell you something."

Obi-Wan turned his head to Anakin and the others, they feigned ignorance and acted as if they weren't listening closely to their conversation, although they were.

"O-Okay, but I want to tell you something t-"

"I fancy you."

Hearing that sentence directed at him caught Obi-Wan off guard.

Not that he never had been confronted by similar words, but it had never been in such a blunt fashion. And also not from a person he secretly liked too. Satine had been a different case.

A blush crept up his neck, cheeks and ears and he swallowed hard.

He had expected Y/N to tell him an apology or a goodbye, but not a love confession.

"I'm sorry. I projected my culture onto you and didn't consider your feelings."

Obi-Wan was flustered and he checked his surroundings again, the clones and the two Jedi now blatantly listening without even trying to hide their interest.

"I-I..." he began, not knowing what to say.

He knew he had to reject the Fey but his fluttering heart absolutely didn't want him to.

"I'm a Jedi, Y/N," he eventually said, his tone sounding pained, and Obi-Wan expected the other man's face to sadden, after all, he did tell him what that meant when it came to attachments, but the Fey's smile stayed on his lips.

"I know. I just wanted to tell you properly."

The smile was the same radiating one he had flashed him after the courtship dance.

Obi-Wan clenched his jaw, contemplated for a second and then, without hesitation, he took a step forward and grabbed Y/N's face to bring their heads together.

Their foreheads touched and the man's eyes widened.

Obi-Wan locked his gaze with his and the Fey sighed, now pressing his head closer and putting his hand on both side’s of his neck..

"You're making this very hard," he muttered accusingly, while tracing Obi-Wan’s carotid artery.

The Jedi laughed weakly, the pain in his chest swelling.

"I know, I'm sorry."

He closed his eyes and breathed in, the smell of damp soil, fruits and leather filled his nose and Obi-Wan tried to engrave the scent in his mind.

"At one point we'll have to stop," whispered Y/N and he grumbled.

"I'm just soaking you in", he replied, eyes still closed.

I don’t want to let go.

He heard the Fey breath out slowly.

Then the man moved away.

Obi-Wan opened his eyes in protest, then his hand got grabbed, and Y/N kissed him.

The Jedi's eyes widened and he remembered that Anakin, Ahsoka and the clones were watching, but his reason got thrown out of the window by his heart and he returned the kiss.

It was a short and bittersweet one. Just like their relationship.

Like the Batellia flower, their love finished before it could even properly bloom.

But Obi-Wan did not look back at these four weeks with regret.

After he had returned to Coruscant and continued fighting in the war, he would often smile at random times, his hands buried in his robes, where he caressed a soft feather.

And he could be damn sure that on a small planet in the Outer Rims, a Fey would trace the faint glow of a blue kyber crystal, he always had with him around his neck.

And who knows, maybe they’ll meet again.

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elliestormfound · 4 years

Text

I am weak my love and I am wanting

CW: +18 because it gets a bit sexy at the end, Geralt has a hard time accepting physical affections from Jaskier

Read on ao3

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“Jaskier," Geralt growled. The two had made camp in a small clearing in the forest they had travelled for a week. The fire was crackling and Jaskier was playing chords on his lute and singing a few lines, trying to form their journey into song. Geralt was on edge tonight and seemed to be irritated by Jaskier’s music.

“You know Geralt, that my lovely name is the second most used word in your mouth?” Jaskier teased, “following your favourite word ‘fuck’”. “Hm,” was Geralt's answer. “I hope you don’t count your grunts as words? They are clearly an important part of your communicational repertoire. But then my name would only be in third place, and that would be a shame…” Jaskier said with a mocking sadness. “And I would have to begin my research anew.” Geralt just looked at him with an unmoving expression.

“Oh, come on, don’t you have a teeny tiny smile for your best friend in the whole wide world,” Jaskier said, looking up in the clear sky. He waited for a moment and with a smile counted it as a success, that Geralt had not negated his claim as his friend. Even though the clear sky promised a cold night, Jaskier enjoyed the unlimited view of the night sky. One could imagine, that the dancing sparks of their campfire would rise up to join the countless stars.

“What is it? You are grumpier than usual,” Jaskier asked the witcher. “Hm,” was all the reply he got. Geralt got out his swords and began his methodical work of oiling them, turning his back to Jaskier. Jaskier sat up and felt warmth spread through him from the familiar sight of his travelling companion. He had tried to convince himself that he only travelled with the witcher gathering material for his songs, but the huge crush he had from the moment he laid eyes on the white haired witcher had grown into something more. At least for him.

He sat near enough to feel the warmth radiating off of Geralt’s body, smelling his familiar scent of leather, sundried hair and …. okay onions. But nobody was perfect. He could see in the flickering firelight, that the witchers white hair was tangled from a week’s worth of travelling with the only possibility of washing in cold mountain streams.

“Geralt,” Jaskier said cautiously, “let me comb out your hair, or it will be so tangled that you have to cut it all of.” Geralt’s answering “Hm” sounded a bit like growling. Jaskier was instantly sorry for addressing him. He should have known that Geralt would not be comfortable with this. When he opened his mouth to apologize and to shift away from the witcher, he heard Geralt mumble “okay, do it.”

Feeling relieved and ecstatic the bard gently took a strand of the white hair in his hands. It did not feel thin and fragile as the white hair of grandparents, the witcher’s shoulder length hair was thick and soft. Jaskier started gently to untangle it with his hands till he could comb through it with his fingers. And Jaskier could have lost himself in the feeling of it.

Befriending the White Wolf was, as the name suggested, a lot like befriending a wild animal. Geralt was not used to having company, at least not company that was human and he was suspicious of all friendly gestures. It made Jaskier’s heart hurt to think about how cruel and - in the best circumstances - indifferent most humans acted towards witchers. Witchers went through a brutal process of training and mutation to risk their lives every day to keep humans safe from monsters and as thanks were treated as monster themselves.

Before he could grab his comb to really smooth the hair out, he felt Geralt tense. Trying to get him to relax, he combed once more with his fingers through Geralt’s hair, gently stroking his head. But that seemed to have the opposite effect. Geralt got up, shook his head and walked a few feet away. “Don’t,” Geralt growled, “fucking touch me like that.” And stalked away into the dark woods.

The bard breathed in deep, hugged his knees and rested his forehead on them. He felt hollow and ashamed for wanting someone so badly who was clearly not interested in him. And nights like this made him question if Geralt wanted him in his life at all, not as a lover, but as a friend or travelling companion. Geralt would have send him away, if he did not want Jaskier with him, wouldn’t he? The witcher was quite good in expressing what he did not want but lousy in expressing what he did want.

After a while Jaskier got out his bedroll and lay down but could not close his eyes. Even though he was hugely attracted to Geralt, Jaskier would have been content with travelling together with him as a friend. And at the same time he was constantly balancing the hope of something other than friendship with the fear of losing the relationship they had as travelling companions.

He was not particularly scared for Geralt wandering alone in the dark woods. As a witcher he could defend himself and he was clearly coming back, because he left Roach and his saddlebags with Jaskier. Geralt probably just needed to cool down.

After about an hour he heard him return. “Jaskier, I am..” Geralt began, but Jaskier interrupted him “you don’t have to say anything, Geralt, I am sorry. This will not happen again.” Jaskier turned on his side, facing away from the witcher. “I will sleep now, we have to get up early tomorrow when we want to reach the village before nightfall. Good night.”

Geralt sighed and began again “Fuck, Jaskier, listen to me.” The witcher waited. Jaskier lay still, not moving. “Can you please look at me, I cannot apologise to your back.” Jaskier had never managed to refuse Geralt anything. He sat up, drew his knees to his chest, hugged them and looked up at his witcher. “You don’t have to apologize for anything,” Jaskier said, “I apologise for overstepping your boundaries.”

There the witcher stood, tall, muscular, his hair ruffled and a look of despair on his handsome face. “I am...I did not intend to run away like that,” he coughed as if the words would not come out and after a deep shaky breath continued softly, “I am not used to getting touched.” And even more quietly “especially not so gentle.”

It did not happen often, but Jaskier was not sure how to respond. After a moment he said, as dread spread through his belly, “I am sorry, Geralt. I will not touch you again, I never wanted you to feel uncomfortable.”

Geralt looked at him, clearly not reassured, with worry in his eyes. The bard continued, “after we reach the village tomorrow, you will travel to Kaer Morhen to spend the winter there and I will go to the coast. You don’t have to put up with me for much longer.” Saying these words made him feel sick and he had to pull himself together not to show it on his face. He managed something that passed for a smile and wanted to lay down again.

Geralt made two steps and knelt down in front of him. “That is not what I meant,” Geralt said. He lifted his hand as if to touch Jaskier’s face, but let it drop. With his yellow catlike eyes he looked into Jaskiers’ as if he could communicate what he wanted him to know through his gaze.

“I…” his breath caught in his throat, “I just planned out a whole speech in the wood, but now everything is gone…”.

“You have what?”,Jaskier asked incredulous. He could not help but smile. It was too easy to forgive his witcher. “You have undone my fine work by ruffling your hair for an hour and then you forget what you wanted to say?” Geralt sat down properly, turned his back to his bard and said, “maybe you could help me untangle my hair again?” Jaskier’s smile grew. “Of course.”

This time he could feel him relax under his touch. After a while Jaskier could have sworn that the witcher hummed under his breath, like a purring cat. Jaskier shifted nearer, his legs on either side of the witcher, feeling Geralt's hand on his leg squeezing it softly.

This time he got out his comb and tenderly guided it through the white hair. Over and over he ran the comb through the witcher’s hair, feeling the warmth of Geralt’s body and inhaling his scent. He felt not only the witcher relax, but also himself. The cold hand of fear that just moments ago had clenched his stomach to a tight knot was gone and a tiny spec of hope started to grow - hope that he had not damaged their friendship.

Not really wanting it to end but not wanting to test out Geralt’s boundaries again, Jaskier said quietly, “all done” and shifted away from the witcher. Geralt turned to look at him. Jaskier could not decipher the feelings in Geralt’s eyes. The witcher’s deep voice growled, “thank you.” And after a moment, “thank you for untangling my hair and thank you for you patience with me.” Jaskier had not felt very patient but could not hide his smile. “Fuck. I mean it, Jaskier. I cannot imagine how hard it must be for someone like you to spent time with some old loner like me.”

“What do you mean,” Jaskier asked, “with someone like me?”

Geralt stood up and said, “you enjoy having company, you always thrive in groups of people. Travelling with just one person and in addition to that a - as you like to call me - grumpy old monosyllabic witcher … i don’t know why you keep up with me.”

“I never called you old,” Jaskier protested. His blanket fell from his shoulders as he got up. He was just wearing a shirt and trousers and started to shiver instantly. He made a step toward Geralt. “And please never think that you are hard to like. I know we are very different, but that does not make me like you any less.” And after a moment, “I just ask you to give me the benefit of trusting my choice of travelling with you and of trusting me, when I tell you that I like you.”

His hope of continuing this conversation was stopped as Geralt said with concern in his voice, “Jaskier, you are freezing. It will be a cold night, let's share our blankets.” Jaskier knew by now, that this was just Geralt being practical. The first time he offered this years ago, Geralt had complained that Jaskier’s shattering teeth were keeping him awake and since then sharing blankets and body heat had been a usual and strictly practical routine in cold nights.

Geralt had placed his bedroll by the fire and Jaskier pushed his over next to it. He lay down on his side facing the fire and pulled his blanket up. He could smell the forest and the fire and thought about how much he would miss this in the winter. Not just Geralt, but all of this. Geralt placed his blanket and hides over Jaskier and lay down under them behind him, shifting nearer till his broad and warm body was curving around Jaskier’s smaller frame. Under the blankets Geralt laid his arm over Jaskier’s side and asked softly, “is this okay?”.

Jaskier breathed in deep, relaxing into the witcher’s muscled body and answered quietly, “yes, Geralt.” Geralt hummed. The arm-thing was new to their procedure of sharing their blankets. Jaskier was not sure if this was because the night promised to be quite cold or if it was Geralt’s concession to Jaskier’s more physically expressed friendship after tonight's events. The bard was definitely a hugger but learned in their first days of travel together that Geralt was definitely not. Finally Jaskier felt warm with the fire in front of him and Geralt behind him and drifted off into sleep.

The bard woke up in the middle of the night, body sore from laying on the hard and bumpy forest floor. He started to shift to find a more comfortable position, which seemed to disturb Geralt. With the arm that lay draped over Jaskier, Geralt pulled the bard firmly to him, sleepily mumbling, “stop wiggling”. Geralt’ breath was tickling the hair on Jaskier’s neck and the bards heart started to beat fast, when he felt to his surprise the witcher’s hard erection pressed to his backside through the layers of their pants.

Jaskier was overwrought by the hot desire that started to bloom in his core and him rationalizing that this was just a normal physical reaction from Geralt, after travelling so long without sexual intimacy, provoked by a worm body pressed to him. It did not mean anything, did it? The bard felt himself getting hard too.

Jaskier started to shift away and roll to his back to look if Geralt was awake so that he could hopefully sneak away unnoticed to take care of his, ahm, problem. But Geralt was looking at him. And he did not look disturbed or anxious, but Jaskier could swear to find lust in the witcher’s eyes. The bard breathed in deep, trying to calm his racing heart. “Geralt”, he whispered. This time when Geralt said Jaskier’s name it was not with his usual exasperation and annoyance, but with soft intimacy and wanting. Eyes widening, Jaskier opened his mouth in confusion till the corner of his mouth lifted to a shy smile. His brain seemed to short circuit, because he asked without thinking, “may I kiss you, Geralt?”

Geralt lifted his hand and laid it on Jaskier’s cheek, softly stroking it with his thumb. Jaskier closed his eyes, daring not to breath. “I am afraid when we kiss,” he heart Geralt's deep voice grumble, “that I won’t be able to stop.” The bard's heart skipped a beat, he opened his eyes and said, “who says I want you to stop?”

Geralt looked at him for a moment longer before he leaned closer and when his lips brushed Jaskier’s, the bard tangled his hands in the white hair and pulled Geralt closer. It was a slow and achingly tender kiss. It was everything Jaskier had dreamed and at the same time nothing alike. Lips he knew by heart but just from sight felt sweetly familiar and electrifyingly foreign. Geralt’s strong arms pulling him closer made him feel protected and safe. The places Geralt touched him, his cheek, his neck, arms and back felt more alive than he ever had.

When they came up for breath, Jaskier laughed. Geralt tensed, but there was no mocking in the melodic laughter, just pure joy and the witcher relaxed again. The sight of the laughing bard, his bard, lips red and swollen from their kissing, radiating so much happiness, made his heart swell.

And they started to kiss again, this time fiercer.

#the witcher #witcher fanfic #geralt of rivia #jaskier #gerskier #geralt x jaskier #idiots in love #tender idiots #gentle kissing #hair brushing #the witcher fanfiction #EllieStormfound

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earthfluuke · 4 years

Photo

summary: they’re the protectors of the trees, have been since they sprouted. after so much time, he’s become comfortable; too comfortable to notice when things change.

did you think i could continue the nymph!tine universe without adding ohmfong into it? impossible! the two of them (along with phuak) are based on alseids (grove nymphs) from greek mythology, but as a reminder, they are anything i imagined them to be.

this also became far longer than i intended it to be. so...oops? regardless, i hope you enjoy!

(side note: margosa trees - also called neem trees - grow in thailand.)

parts: 1 / 2 / 2.5 / 3 / 3.5 / 3.5i

From the high branches of the apple tree, lone and unique amongst the grove of margosa not far away, Fong keeps a watchful eye on the ground below. Specifically, the human boy who dares to take a step closer to Tine. One wrong move, and he will be sliding down the trunk, bark scratches and splinters be damned, to his aid. Such is the life of himself, Ohm, and Phuak, the protectors of the trees, the field, and the creatures that dwell there.

The human boy tosses a blade to the ground behind him and raises his hands to his chest, fingers spread wide in surrender. Tine braves towards him, sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong. While he relaxes, Fong only further tenses, fingers gripping the branch tighter, swirling patterns indenting into his palms. Tine is too quick to trust, leaving Fong to be the one to worry.

When he turns to the two nymphs above him, they seem to share his sentiment, if the creases to their brows and downturn of their lips are any indication. If there must be a soft spot for those they protect, they at the very least all agree to have the same one. To the three of them, that is Tine. And for him, they are attentive, subjecting themselves to a day of observation and scrutiny. But what else does one do for those that they love?

…

Humans are not so foreign to them. There are the occasional wanderers, free spirited couples who want to escape for a bit of privacy, curious explorers who collect leaves and twigs from the ground to shove into the satchels at their hips. But they are few and far between, never venturing in more than once.

Tine’s human boy, however, is an oddity. Every day without fail, he returns to the forest, walks through the trees until they part into an open meadow, and trails up the hill to the sole apple tree. Sunrise to sunset he stays, leaving with promises of a happy tomorrow.

It isn’t so much the human boy’s presence that concerns him. It instead is the light that reaches too high in Tine’s eyes. They all but glow, seeping a brightness across the fields when the sun sinks away. His cheeks push up too high, smile grows too wide, sighs become too dreamy. They are all warning signs that Fong knows better than to ignore.

Weaving between tree trunks, he follows the human boy through the grove. On the ground, he can see him closer, see a bit of what Tine must see in him. He has a handsome, angled face, sharp features that don’t quite match the softness in his eyes. Even from the tops of the trees, he can see the way they melt to enraptured fondness with merely a glance to Tine. There again comes his worry; the two of them make something so complicated so seemingly easy.

Fong is light on his feet, toes barely touching the dirt before he takes another step to keep up with the human boy’s longer legs. One with the wind, he resembles it whipping through the leaves, tearing those less fortunate from their stems, floating to the ground in a graceful dance. He is careful and calculated; a single step out of place puts him at risk.

It is a single step he takes. Misjudging the length he needs to take over a tree root, his foot catches. A pained hiss goes through his teeth, and he tumbles in perfect line with the human boy.

The first thing he notices when he regains his balance is the glint of a blade secured tightly at his waist. The second is the large, tan hand that covers it, ready to free it from its leather confines.

Fong is frozen still, eyes wide and unwavering from the gaze he has locked on the human boy. He stares back, still gripping the handle of his blade but making no move to draw it. It is as though each are waiting for the other to make a move, not daring to do so themselves. There is the perfect chance to dart away into the confines of the trees, and yet, he cannot bring himself to move nary a step.

Just as the human boy appears to want to move in closer and offer him his words, a cloud of dust huffs up between them. Feet hit the ground hard, the fall from the tree branches above kicking up twigs and rocks. Fong cannot see Ohm’s face, but it is all too obvious that he is angry. Squared back shoulders arch into long arms extended towards the ground, prepared to pull up the roots from the earth and trap the human boy within them.

He is on him before he can. It takes a series of progressively harder tugs on his hand to get Ohm to whip around and face him. Fire burns in his eyes, but it extinguishes when they meet Fong. Fear flashes through them, then grief, and then anger once more. But it is different than the first kind, more guilty than aggressive.

Before Fong can study him further, Ohm dashes through the trees, disappearing beyond the hills. The human boy is still looking at him, clearly perplexed from their exchange, but it is he who supplies an explanation with the single whisper of, “blood.”

Fingers rise to his cheek, find a wet pool that stings when touched, and when he pulls them back, they are tinted red. Somewhere between the dust and the fury, some of the kick up must have struck him.

He acknowledges the human boy with a nod before taking after his fellow nymph. From what he has seen, Tine’s human boy has far from bad intentions, considering how many chances he had to harm him, all of which he did not take. And regardless, there is something much more pressing he needs to see to.

…

It is not difficult to find where Ohm has escaped to. Just beyond Tine’s apple tree, down the far side of the hill, there sits a river. And on the banks, nestled between the cattails, he is crouched, head down, spine curved. A step closer, and Fong can see a scaled hand resting upon his cheek in comfort, webbed fingers spreading over his ashen skin.

Pear notices him almost instantaneously. She turns to look at him; the pink scales curving up towards her temples flicker gold beneath the sun, and her eyes grow soft with sympathy. He cannot make out the words she hushes to Ohm, but as she dives beneath the water, he glances over his shoulder. The flinch he gives matches the sharp pang Fong feels deep in his chest, just beyond his ribs, when he sees the remorse growing in his eyes, grief fading in just behind.

Two long glides, and Fong is on him, warming the cheek that Pear had left to grow cold. Thumb grazing over the indents of the vine that outlines his cheekbone, he forces a smile, hoping to rid the sorrow from his eyes; it hurts more than any cut ever could.

Those eyes – usually so big, so bright, full of mischief and unspoken plans between himself and Phuak – fixate on where the tree branch struck. Trembling fingers brave a graze so light he could have imagined it, and then his hand rests just beneath it, a hold mirroring the very one Fong has on him. More pain grows in from his pupils, spreading towards the edges of his dark brown irises until they are encompassed in a sadness too deep for Fong to bear.

He leans forward until their foreheads touch and their noses ever so carefully tuck into each other. He can feel Ohm’s breath feather onto his skin, rapid and staggered. Fingers stroke out towards his ear to say I’m okay while his thumb brushes just under his lashes to plead please don’t be so angry with yourself.

Ohm turns, forehead bumping his temple and rubbing against it. Each nuzzle presses an apology into his skin, gentle but not enough to go unnoticed. Fong feels it clearly, how much he means it, how badly he needs Fong to know it. And though he knew from the moment he saw the heaviness in his eyes, he stays still, not daring a move until Ohm feels he’s done enough.

It isn’t much, not for Ohm. For him, it’s always been different. Phuak has always been as close as a friend can be, a better one than Fong ever believed he deserved. Tine is the one he protects with a fierceness strong enough to topple trees and flood oceans. But Ohm…he doesn’t believe there’s a word to describe just what he is.

He is beside him before Fong knows he needs him. He follows in his steps or creates a path for Fong to follow. There is more said between them in single glances and lingering smiles than could ever be expressed through words. Where Ohm is, there is understanding, endless joy, a comfort that emerged one day and never left.

What one titles that, Fong hasn’t a clue. All he knows is that Ohm is forever, and staying like this, for as long as he needs, is nothing (and everything) in the grand scheme of things.

…

The next time the human boy visits, it’s with a string instrument in hand and a few more hearts to his eyes. Each moment passes by with his skilled strums, the birds drawn to the sound tuning their songs to match his melody. Tine’s attempts follow, unexperienced and clumsy and yet still met with soft praise. The back and forth floats to the treetops, to where Fong is perched with a hand pressed firmly into his lower back.

No longer red and stark, the scratch on his cheek should not be as offensive to Ohm as it once was. There is nothing to scream blame at him, no physical remnant of what he so wholeheartedly believes is his personal act of sin. And still, everywhere Fong goes, each turn he takes, a hand follows. Sometimes it hovers, a quiet whisper of protection. And other times, such as this, it is obvious, noticeable to an almost absurd degree.

He is not glass, has never been treated as such. He is resourceful, wise beyond his years, quick to a plan before others can so much as ponder the situation at hand. Proven himself for as long as the margosa grove has stood, he refuses to play weak for anyone.

But Ohm is not anyone, and anyone is not Ohm. And furthermore, does it make one weak to do what is right for your one’s – your only’s – peace of mind? Because regardless of his actions, Ohm’s trust in Fong’s strength has not wavered. It has instead pushed itself to the back of his mind in favor of guilt taking over the forefront, hazing his judgement with a desperate need for remedy. Perhaps it is not Fong at all, but Ohm feeling burdened by the wrong he believes he has done and this – the hovering, the following, the hands – is his way of making things right.

Regardless of reason, Fong has made his choice. If the price to pay for Ohm trusting himself again is a constant weight on his back and eyes on his cheek, then he will pay it proudly. There is strength in helping the ones you love. And as the human boy’s song plays on and Fong looks to Ohm – and Ohm looks to him, as he has been doing without fail – he cannot help but think of what little there is that he will not do if it is for him. It is as simple as breathing.

…

They came into this world on a sprout, grew along with it until it breached the skyline and was no longer lonely, surrounded by a collection of other trees that would become their home. The roots grew through their bodies, wound up around their arms and rose to their cheeks, tinting them the green of the margosa leaves. And from that very beginning, Ohm had been a beacon of light.

Brighter than the sun, the stars, and the moon combined, he brings warmth to every creature he meets. It bleeds out from his smile and into their chests, engulfing their hearts and melting it deeper into them until they ache with swelled emotion. Fong finds it so fitting that when the day breaks and the sun hits his skin, he shines a golden yellow as a symbol of all that is right and good in the small world they’ve created around them.

So when Tine shows off the flower crown he has woven for his human boy and that light within Ohm dims, Fong cannot help but recognize how wrong it feels. There is a hollowness to his eyes, empty and cold enough to send a shiver through Fong’s spine.

For a meadow nymph like Tine, this crown is special; to gift someone an object of his own creation, made from the flowers he bloomed from the very tips of his fingers, is no small feat. There is an unmeasurable amount of trust in a gesture that big, and for a moment, Fong believes that to be why Ohm has extinguished. They are protectors, and to him, Tine’s human boy must still be a threat. He is worried, Fong thinks as the skin around Ohm’s jaw tightens. He does not want to see him get hurt.

But no matter the worry or fear they may have over his decisions, Tine’s happiness is what holds most importance to them. However, when Tine lifts his creation, proud smile on his lips and hope squeezing his eyes to crescents, Ohm turns on his heel, showing his back to them before stalking out of the meadow and back towards the grove.

It is then that Fong realizes that none of this has to do with the human boy. Even more troubling is that he hasn’t a clue of what it does. He and Phuak are quick to reassure Tine with returned smiles and pats to his head. In between it all, they manage shared glances, each holding the same sentiment. Pray tell this is just a flicker, and he has not burned out entirely.

…

Starlight kisses his skin, patterns of the spaces between the leaves dancing across his cheeks and reflecting up into his eyes. There are just some moments in life that do not feel real, even when they are seen in person, and Fong believes this to be one of those.

Ohm has always been a familiar kind of beautiful, one that makes him feel safe. Crouched upon a branch of one of the margosa trees, the soft curve of his jaw stretches to get a better look at the sky, lips spreading slowly into a content smile. Under the light, he is still golden, but this kind is fainter, brighter, more ethereal. While he is entranced by the stars, Fong is entranced by him, because what could they possibly hold to this picture he wishes to etch into his memory for however long he has?

When he does take notice of him – because he always does, as if there is a sixth sense that only registers as Fong within him – his lips stretch further as he reaches his hand out to him. It is familiar, too familiar, and only when Fong takes hold does realization catch up to him, a swarm of memories flooding back to his mind.

The hands that he’d believed to be a phase of heightened worry that would slowly fade as his cut did are here; his cut is not. And his eyes dazzle into him, unwavering from the gaze he before had on his cheek and now has through his eyes and into his soul. That too should have gone when he healed, and yet, they both stay. Or is it that they never left in the first place?

Or could it be they had been there the entire time?

Pasts of fingers circling his wrist as he crossed the river on unsteady stones and palms brushing tears from his cheeks when Phuak removed a splinter from his foot. Histories of pinpricked pupils narrowing in on him when the first human to explore their grove came and crinkled eye-smiles first thing in the morning, saved only for him. Memory after memory, too many to count, so many he has overlooked. Always, Ohm has been there, looking at him the same, holding him the same, and he has never noticed. Because that is Ohm; it has always been Ohm. Fong has just gotten too comfortable with what they are – what they always have been – that he has been blind to things becoming so much more.

And now, he cannot focus on anything but. Every touch, every look, it is, it has, it will always be, their normal. What does it mean? What has it meant? Must it mean anything at all? It must, with the rate his heart quickens and the slight shake to his knees.

Thoughts consume him, and it’s all too much. It’s dizzying, how fast one’s mind can work. He clutches to Ohm’s bicep, hugs it close to keep his balance on the branch. Surely, he has done so before, subconsciously with far less concern. It is all he can do. That, and look at the stars; all he can see in them is Ohm.

…

After that night beneath the stars, Fong needs time to think. Realization hit him square in the chest and knocked all of the wind out of him. His nights are filled with those hands, those eyes, and something more. Breath on his neck, lips fitting against his own, arms catch around his lower back as he spins and spins and spins until he wakes to the only nymph to blame for this mess.

It is the day he uses as an escape, a time to distract himself in hopes of it bringing clarity. And the universe has blessed him with the perfect opportunity.

He was created to protect his tree grove and the creatures around it, and the stream just beyond Tine’s apple tree is no exception. Another human appears one day, a girl this time, and she does not stray from the place she’s made for herself on the water’s banks. She creates colors with her hands, a magic Fong was unaware humans possessed, and every so often, she looks up as though she’s expecting something. Every time she looks down, the hope in her eyes fades just a bit more.

It is not so difficult to decipher just what (who) she’s looking for, but it becomes even easier when he finds Pear at the mouth of her river – farther up on a shallow overhang of cliffs – staring down at the human girl with interest and hesitation. It is as though her body wants to go to her, but her mind shouts wait.

And she does, in a way. Each day the human girl comes, Pear inches that littlest bit closer, just to watch her, as though she’s trying to figure out everything there could be to know about her. Where she goes, Fong follows. She provides the sort of silence he needs when his mind is too loud.

On the third day, they’ve traveled far enough down the river to where he can see Tine’s apple tree as well as the two figures situated in the branches. While he’s gone off with Pear, someone has to look after Tine. Or in this case, someones. Ohm could have followed him, and if this were any other time, he would have. But he knows this is something Fong needs to do on his own, because he always knows. And that’s what makes this ever so hard.

It is odd to be apart. He discovers so on the fifth day when he sees Ohm’s shoulders bounce in what he can only assume to be laughter. An emptiness grows in the center of his chest, sinking his heart to the very pits of his stomach. They’ve never strayed far from each other, and this. This must be why. Has he felt a pain like this before? Has anything hurt him so terribly that he could feel it course through his roots and squeeze him tight?

Only one thing has. Seven days gone, and Pear has taken her leap. It is more of a tip toe to the human girl’s side, one that startles her when Pear reaches for her magic colors. But it is not long before they fall into one another. Shoulders brush, wrists cross. Pear smiles, and the human girl’s cheeks flush the same shade of pink as the magic color on the tips of Pear’s fingers.

The closeness they share is the same kind that Tine and his human boy have. It is something that Fong should envy but never has. The question of why is followed quickly by you know.

A glance to the tree tops is all he needs. He need not be jealous for he has a closeness of his own, has for far more than his mind has ever let him remember. Long before human boys and human girls, there were nymphs. Some with shimmering scales, others with blossoms at their fingertips. But there has only ever been one for Fong, something he had not understood until his cheek was gashed and he felt an ice-cold ache, more painful than any other he’d felt before, from eyes filled with irrefutable guilt.

…

Pear’s human girl presents her with a water lily. Fingers part back her hair to tuck it behind her ear where it sits proudly against her temple. Its soft gradient from white to purple radiates Pear perfectly, dainty with a striking, breathless kind of beauty that cannot be ignored. It is an altogether excellent choice, if the kiss the human girl receives is any indication.

Feeling as though he is intruding on a far too intimate moment, he turns and finds himself upon Ohm. His eyes dart away as well, but rather than out of respect, it appears he does so out of disdain. His expression carries the same anger it did when Tine showed off the flower crown he’d crafted for his human boy, the one he and Phuak could not comprehend.

A blink for clarity, he looks closer, really looks, and sees the sadness in the creases between his brows and the sharp bite he has on his lower lip. He’ll draw blood, Fong is sure, but he pulls back before he can surge forward. Just as he cannot break into Pear and her human girl’s private moments, he cannot do so to Ohm’s either; he is not entitled to that, regardless of the personal revelations he’s had within these last few days.

All he can do is shift back onto his hands and stare up to the sky, wondering what it is about humans and flowers that makes Ohm so heartbroken.

…

Fong is greeted back to the meadow with music and laughter. Tine is on his feet, each step leaving clusters of pink peonies; he dances around his human boy as he strums his strings and tries to catch him into a kiss. Pear and her human girl have joined them, spinning each other around and dissolving into fits of giggles when they are right way around again. There is not necessarily a reason for such festivities other than the thrill of being alive, but he supposes that is good enough reason as any.

Celebration circles through the air so thick that Fong can feel it. It warms his toes and melts his lips to a smile, but a chill passes over his shoulders from farther away. At the outskirts of the margosa grove, Ohm stands, leant against a tree trunk. His eyes, as they always seem to be, are locked onto him.

They are sad, though not in the same way as they were the day Pear’s human girl gifted her the water lily. This kind is a lonely kind of sadness, the kind that whispers I’ve missed you only loud enough for Fong, and Fong alone, to hear.

It drives him forward. That, and the notion that so many days have passed since they’ve been in each other’s presence. He hates it. He had to sort himself out, but he detests that it has caused this. His sunshine should always be bright, not this cloudy overcast with the chance of tears.

Standing in front of him, the closest he’s come to him in what feels like a millennium, he near breaks. But for Ohm, on the brink of shattering himself, he holds himself together and does for him what he’s done so many times for Fong; he reaches forward, palm up and ready to be taken. Every memory he’s recollected has Ohm taking hold of him and not letting go. This time, the first he plans of so many, he’ll hold him.

Fingers grip between his, squeezing tight enough to bruise. For all of the confusion Fong has had, Ohm has only experienced fear. That he would not return, that he was gone without a goodbye. And that, he has to rectify.

Pulling him forward, Fong manages to take back his hand and slip it around Ohm’s shoulders. The other finds the back of his head and presses his face to the bend of his collarbone. With strokes over his hair, nails catching over tangles and smoothing them out, he buries his nose into curve of his ear and inhales deep.

Grass, tree bark, apples, and something warm. It’s Ohm, it’s home, and Fong promises himself that never again can he stray for as long as he has. Here, cradling sunshine in his arms, is the only place he belongs, the only place he wants to be. It is an honor to hold up the sun, keep the light alive and burning, and it is not a privilege he plans to forget.

Ohm grasps at the back of his tunic, bunching the fabric up in his hands as though it will disappear if he is not strong enough. His breath is staggered, finally exhaling after days of not allowing himself to. And that’s a thought, isn’t it? By taking himself away, he’s taken away the very thing that allows Ohm to live. A day longer, and Fong would have found him beneath the tree he grew from, the two of them withered and alone.

Lips brush over the shell of his ear, gentle kisses unspoken promises of the forever Fong has always thought him to be. He’s never imagined a future where Ohm is not beside him, but it is more than that; he sees that now. Without Ohm, there simply is no future for him. When Ohm goes, so will he, their lives intertwined from beginning to end.

The music continues to play, but their own celebration continues in the privacy of the trees. Here, with Ohm in his arms, is not where their forever starts. No, that begun long ago. It is where it continues, with the promise that it will be as near to perfect as the universe allows.

…

Soft weight falls upon his head. His eyes roll up, hoping for a glimpse. Met with only rounded shadows, he reaches up, and his fingers find velvet, delicate to the touch. Taking it in both hands, he lowers it carefully to find a wreath of sunflowers, adorned with margosa leaves.

Unwavering, unconditional love with personal touches of the past woven in between. It’s so light, but it’s meaning is heavy, keeps him holding on tighter lest something tragic happen to it.

Just past where it rests in his hands, shifting from foot to foot, is Ohm. Not meeting his eyes, he waits for what Fong is unsure of. Perhaps for him to shove it back at him in rejection or stomp it into the dirt in disgust. It is within these nerves that Fong finds familiarity: a tight jaw and sad eyes.

He’s seen it before, with Tine’s flower crown and Pear’s water lily. It is not quite jealousy, nor is it resentment. It is instead a crushed desire, a hope he does not allow himself to have. It is the unexplainable want to be those humans. To have and to hold some part of the one they love; to give part of themselves to the one they trust most to take care of it.

That’s what this is. It’s unmistakable. Golden petals match the reflect across Ohm’s cheeks, in his smile, through the brown of his irises that shine just that slightest bit warmer. For so long, Ohm has yearned to give himself to him. And finally, he feels as though he can.

Situating it back onto his head, he takes Ohm’s hands into his. They are as warm as they should be. Ohm dares a glimpse, and the joy that bursts through him makes Fong smile. It’s a bit of a dance, the way Ohm pulls on his arms and catches him around the waist when he falls against his chest, but it is one he’d do a thousand times over if it keeps his sunshine hanging high in the sky, bright and brilliant, as he should be.

An honor, he thinks as Ohm leans down, captures his lips with his own. It is an honor to hold a piece of him, to be trusted this much. He is meant to care for every creature in the grove, in the meadow, in the river and forest beyond. Ohm has always been included in that; he was the very first after all.

#2gether #2gether the series #still2gether #still2gether the series #ohmfong #ohm x fong #nymph!tine au #nymph au #so many nymphs at this point woo!!#also if you ever have questions or comments on this please send them to me!!#i'm way too invested in this au and i love talking about it #my writing

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itsyourboychristopher · 4 years

Photo

--bang chan--

words - 4.5k

warnings - phone sex, mutual masturbation, hints of D/s, slight angst, bunch of fluffy and sassy couple talk

note - i had to reupload cause apparently trying to fix the warnings on my phone fucked everything up, but here you guys go!

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

You stared at your phone screen, completely entranced by the Instagram video in front of you. It wasn’t anything too crazy, just a short video of your boyfriend Chan during the fan chant video for Levanter. You had watched the video earlier when it had first released, and here you were watching it again for the thousandth time. Between his hair, the eyebrow slit, and just that fucking face… he just looked so good.

“Hellooo…? G’day, mate!”

Wincing, you jerked your head back into your pillow in shock as you heard Chan’s voice loudly in your ear. “What the hell was that for?”

“I called your name like five times. You kind of zoned out on me. Is everything okay? if you need to go to bed, you can. You don’t have to stay up to talk to me, you know.”

“Uhm... to be completely honest, I got distracted,” you answered as you rolled onto your left side. Making sure the blankets didn’t twist as you continued to lie in bed staring at your phone, you snuggled into your mattress.

Chan gasped dramatically, making you roll your eyes in fondness. “How dare you? And here I was telling you an amazing story.”

“Oh?” Your eyebrows rose. “What kind of story?”

“Mhm. May I ask what got you so distracted?”

Fixing your headphones that had gotten tangled when you turned on your side, you made a sound in your throat as if you were thinking about it. “I mean I guess, but you have to be cool about it.”

Chan’s voice went from teasing to curious. “Cool in what way?”

“Well…” You watched the video of him one more time before smiling wickedly. “I found myself distracted by this really hot guy I found on Insta.”

You could practically hear the badly hidden jealousy in his voice, and you took a moment to relish in it. “Oh? ...What’s his name?”

“I think his name is Bang Chan? I don’t know,” you teased as your smile softened. “I think he’s in some kind of kpop group. They recently posted a video on YouTube of a fan chant? I don’t know what those are or even what they’re saying, but this Chan Bang guy really just looks hot as hell. His hair is tousled and kind of off of his forehead, and that one prominent dimple when he smiles? Mmmmm,” you fake a whiny groan. “And that eyebrow slit? Fuck.”

A slight sound on his end was heard after your fake whine, and you smirked while watching the video again. A hint of warmth caused a short throb in your clit, and you remembered just how sexy he could be when jealous. “There’s just something about him that’s so attractive. I would totally leave you for him to be quite honest.”

He chuckled. “You don’t say.”

“Oh, yeah. ...Hey! You live in Korea, he lives in Korea; do you think there’s any way that you can get me his number?”

You knew he was probably rolling his eyes at you at this point. If you didn’t know any better, you also thought that he was most likely blushing from the compliments. The two of you had known each other for so long that you practically knew him better than he knew himself, even though he lived a 20 hour plane ride away.

“Yes,” he replied back with a hint of sarcasm. “Let me totally get my manager to contact his manager, and I will one hundred percent be behind you leaving me, your long-term boyfriend of three years, so you can date this ‘Chan Bang’ dude.”

“Thanks, babe! Who knows, maybe I’ll let you watch us have sex for funsies.”

“I can’t wait,” he deadpanned. “Oh! That reminds me actually. Did you ask off for the tour? Hopefully I can see you at least once since I’m coming to Miami and you live in Orlando now. That’s only what, five hours?”

“In good traffic, yeah,” you agreed. Narrowing your eyes in confusion for a moment, you chuckled quietly. “How did me talking about sex remind you of the tour?”

Chan jokingly scoffed, earning a judgy face from you. “Because it’s been six months since I’ve last physically saw you in front of me, and I’m horny as hell and want to have amazing sex with my precious girlfriend who I love deeply.”

You felt a blush erupt onto your cheeks from his words. After taking a moment to calm down, you winced, and hoped he wouldn’t be able to tell that you were going to lie to him. “Uhm, well… that’s the thing? I don’t think I’ll be able to make it.”

It became quiet on his end, and while you knew you were actually going to be there for most of the tour because your manager understood the situation and allowed you the time off, you still wanted to try and surprise him. You were going to be able to be with him for weeks, and even share a room with him, and you wanted to personally see the smile on his face when you told him so. The silence from him though told you how much this lie hurt him, and it brought an anxiety pain to your chest. It’ll all be worth it when I surprise him in Atlanta. I just have to keep telling myself that. His reaction will be worth it.

“Really?” He finally asked quietly with a hint of raspiness in his voice. “I thought you said that your GM could most likely give it to you? You said since the tickets and everything were gonna be paid for, that you just needed the time off since you have your savings from the money I send you.”

“Yeah, I still wish you’d stop sending me money-”

“-I’d spend it on you regardless, even if you actually lived here-”

“-and I thought he’d let me, but since I just recently got promoted to being a manager, it’s a little harder than I thought. You know how Disney property is… the tourist season never ends.” You heard Chan sniffle, almost making you want to give in and apologize. Just knowing that you were hurting him even if you were making it up to him later made this hurt you way more than you expected. “Baby, please.”

“But you don’t work for Disney, you’re third party, so you said it was easier to ask off.” He sniffled again before clearing his throat. “LIke I know that I kind of signed up for this when we decided to go out and were finally able to but wow, this really sucks. Why don’t you seem more upset by this? It means it’ll be almost a full year before the next time we can see each other again in person, and not over FaceTime or just talking on the phone.”

You felt tears sting your eyes at the reminder of the distance, making you bite the inside of your cheek as you attempted to hold them back. “Trust me,” your voice cracked a little bit without meaning to. “I am upset, I just didn’t want to let you know how much.”

He sniffled loudly at the slight whine in your voice, and you heard things shuffling in the background as if he was wiping his eyes. “This is definitely not how I intended this phone call to go.”

“I know, Chan. I’m so sorry. ...How did you intend it to go?”

“Well,” he cleared his throat a few times as if he was trying to return to the earlier moment. “I was trying to tell the story about my last trip to the gym so I could hopefully turn this into phone sex, but now…”

“Oo, you know how much I love gym stories.”

Chan snickered quietly, making you smile, and you slowly felt the grief from before lifting. “I know, that’s why I was surprised when you said you got distracted, but now knowing that it was because of a video of me and that it was turning you on…?”

“If you’re still down for it, I’m totally into turning this back into a phone sex call. It’s been a minute, and to be honest, all of these videos of you have been teasing me. Plus those new pics and vids of you as an airline captain? Fuck, Chan.”

“I miss you so much and I’m always so fucking horny; I’m always down, baby girl.”

The warmth from earlier returned to your crotch, making you bite your lip as you rolled onto your back and let your left hand roam down to your breast. “I actually prepared a surprise for you to make up for not being able to go on tour. I’m not sure if you can handle it.”

He groaned. “What kind of surprise?”

“How much time do you have before you need to go? And are you in a ‘not safe for work or the kids’ space?”

“Mmm…” He was quiet for a second, probably checking his schedule. “It’s 3:37P now, and we were gonna have dinner before getting everything prepared for Inkigayo so… an hour? And the boys are in different places. The only one home is Hannie-ah, and his room is on the other side of the house. Plus my door is locked, so even if my roomies came home, I’m pretty sure that after years of living with me they know that if I’m on the phone it’s most likely with you, and they know to most likely stay away.”

Your nipple had become hard underneath your shirt from your teasing. You pinched it which made you release a small groan as he finished speaking.

“Baby girl,” he growled. “What’s the surprise? You better show me before you touch yourself. You know the rules. You can only touch yourself when I tell you to when we’re on the phone.”

“Sorry, sir… it’s been so long since you’ve last punished me that my hands have grown bold.”

“I’ll make sure to remind you when I see you next.”

“Please do,” you purred.

Releasing your breast, you quickly went to the Kakaotalk app where you and Chan texted each other daily, and sent him a teasing picture of your newly bought black lingerie. There were multiple pictures that you took of yourself modeling in them, and the one you chose just showed you in one of his oversized black shirts that reached your upper thigh. You wore stockings with garters that were just barely visible, and you knew those alone would make him instantly harden since stockings with garters were his favorite. The sexy pose was simple; just you standing in front of your full-length mirror in your bedroom with a hand lifting the shirt slightly above your left thigh, up towards your hip. Your left leg was bent and you faced the mirror at an angle, that way he could see a hint of your wonderful ass from the side.

You heard when he received it; the gasp he let out turning into a gravely moan.

“Is that my shirt?”

“Mhm.”

“And what looks like new lingerie too?”

“Bought just for you.”

You heard shuffling on his end of the line again, and noticed his breath had started to pick up. “My dear Chanstopher, are you touching yourself from just the first picture?”

“There’s more?” He sounded slightly scandalized, making you hold back a giggle.

“Of course, silly. There’s an entire ensemble that I modeled with. I had to make sure you got to see all of it,” you teased, making sure to use a slight French accent on the word ‘ensemble’.

“May I see the rest of it?”

You tsked him. “A Dom begging? So unbecoming.”

“You are walking a very fine line, baby,” he growled. God, I love it when he does that!

“I guess since you asked so nicely, I can send you another one. If you were already touching yourself before, just wait for this next one.”

Going through the photos, you chose the one where you’re sitting on the bed in front of the same mirror with your legs drawn wide, using that same hand from earlier to lift the shirt up to right below your chest. What was really going to kill him was the sight of the pink app controlled vibrator sticking out of your black lacy underwear, and the resounding moan that released from his lips when he received it made your clit start to throb incessantly.

“You were wet at just the thought of me seeing these, yeah?” His voice sounded shaky, and you swore that you heard his hand gripping his cock solely based off of the timbre of his voice.

“I’m always wet when I think of you, Sir.”

“You being a good girl?”

Biting your lip, you nod as if he can see you as you grip the sheets with your left hand. Returning back to his rules; you laid your phone down on your bed beside you as you waited for him. The only thing that existed in your brain now was Chan and whatever he had in store for you. “Yes, Sir, I’m being a good girl. I always want to be your good girl.”

“Go grab that vibrator from the picture.”

You took in a shaky breath at his command as you squeezed your thighs together, giving yourself a hint of pleasure. “But you’re not here to control it,” you whined.

“No, I’m not, but you’re going to follow my commands, yeah, baby girl?”

“Yes, Sir,” you whispered breathlessly.

Flipping the covers open, you feel the sting of the cold air that you and your roommates normally kept the apartment at hit your skin, causing goosebumps as you left your phone and headphones behind. Your room was normally colder than the others because you had the master and it had the most outer walls compared to the other rooms, making it super cold even in December in Florida. Normally you liked it, but right now, with how heated your skin had become, it felt like a mild punishment from him. He calls me baby girl and suddenly I become a dripping wet human furnace.

Walking into your bathroom, you opened the drawer connected to your sink that housed your toys and pulled out the required pink vibrator. You hastily went back to your bed, dying to be under the covers. Putting the headphones back in your ear, you got comfortable and held the vibrator on top of your stomach. “I have it, Chan.”

“What’re you wearing?”

“Uhm,” your eyebrows kit together in confusion, having expected a command. “I’m actually wearing the same shirt in the picture. It’s my go to for bed. All of your shirts are.”

“And your underwear?” He asked.

“The blue boy shorts you saw the last time you visited.”

“Mm, I just want to set the picture so I can help myself along. Are you ready, sweetheart?”

“Yes, Sir, but can I know what you’re wearing too?”

“I’m wearing my black Dolls hoodie and my black sweatpants.”

“Such an emo baby,” you quipped with a soft smile.

“Emo for you.”

The two of you laughed at his corniness, and when you both finally calmed down, he asked if you’re ready again. You told him you were, and you heard some movement on his end of the line, making you wait patiently for him as he most likely got comfortable.

“All right, my love. I want you to lift your shirt as high as you did in that last picture, and then I want you to turn the vibrator on the lowest setting.”

You do as you’re told, turning the vibrator on through the phone app. You briefly wondered what he was going to have you do tonight, and you loved the anticipation of it all. “I did it.”

“Good girl,” he rumbled nearly an octave lower than his normal voice. The praise and the sound of his voice sent a shiver down your spine. You wanted to hear more of it. “Now I want you to lightly run the vibrator up and down your exposed stomach. Imagine I’m there above you, doing it as I suck on your earlobe.”

Your breathing started to pick up as you followed through, and the small vibration on your abs increased the warmth in your nether region.

“Does that feel good?”

“Yes, sir. Can I ask what you’re doing on your end?”

“Of course, baby girl. Seeing those pictures got me hard, and I’m rubbing myself over my sweats as I picture you following my commands, dressed in my shirt,” he answered.

His love of you wearing his clothes was overly apparent, and it filled you with a sense of joy, knowing you pleased him.

“Do you like the pictures?”

“I love them. You are… breathtakingly gorgeous and sexy.” Chan groaned loudly, making your clit throb harder as you wished the vibrator could move lower. As if hearing your inner wish, Chan spoke again, “Now I want you to move the toy down to your pussy, over your underwear. Let it trace around your folds, but you are not allowed to touch your clit or slit. Follow my lead, baby.”

Whining loudly, your hand moved the vibrator as you opened your legs as wide as possible, and the second it touched your folds, you had to stop yourself from going straight to the source of your pleasure. You waited for what came next, knowing that by ‘following his lead’ it meant doing what he said he’d do, therefore helping you imagine him actually being there.

“I’m right there with you, moving the toy above your clit but not touching it as I slowly grind into your thigh. My mouth is working down your neck, having just reached the edge of my shirt. Moving my other hand, I lift the shirt further up, and the second your breasts are free I have your nipple between my teeth…”

“Chan—“ your chest started heaving as you tried to breathe. The mental visual of him being there, doing what your hands were doing was already messing with you. It had been so long since you had actually touched yourself, and even longer since you both were able to have enough time for phone sex that you were already lost. Your right hand continued moving the toy over your folds, while your left tugged lightly on your nipple. “Please, sir.”

“Sucking your nipple into my mouth,” he continued with a slight growl to his voice, “I move the toy down to your slit, still over the underwear. You buck your hips, making me press mine harder into your thigh, and as punishment for moving when I didn’t tell you to, I bite the skin of your breast, just hard enough for you to know I’m displeased. You can feel all seven inches of my dick on your thigh, and knowing it’s so close to your cunt, you moan into my ear.”

You followed through with everything he was saying, and when he said you moaned, you actually did as the vibrator seemed to barely touch you just below your clit. Just imagining that his perfect cock was right there, touching you, made you salivate, forcing you to bite your lip as hard as possible. It’s been so long since I’ve had him in my mouth. God, I miss it!

Chan seemed to moan along with you. Hearing his beautiful voice fill your ears caused your core to clench, making you whimper.

“Your moan caused my cock to throb so hard, baby. Imagining I’m with you feels so good. Do you feel it too?” He panted quietly.

“Yes, Sir—please, can I move the vibrator?”

“Yes, but you don’t get to touch your clit. I want you to put it into your underwear and to trace along your slit.”

Doing so caused your body to spasm slightly, and you felt your hips shake against the stimulation.

“Now I want you to turn the vibrator up to half power.”

“Chan! I’m so primed already—“

“Do as I say, my love.”

You groaned in frustration and removed your left hand from your breast. Grabbing your phone, you turned the vibrator up to half power, and the second it increased against you, you gasped loudly as your body spasmed a bit.

“Put it in, baby girl. Just like the picture.”

At this point you were panting through your nose, trying to make sure that if your roommates were somehow awake and out in the living room at nearly two in the morning, they wouldn’t be able to fully hear you. You were practically whimpering near constantly when you put it in, the toy setting your body aflame as it buzzed against your g-spot. Your nipples were harder than you thought possible as you ripped the blankets off of your heated skin. The chill in the air hit your soaked underwear, and the feeling of it rubbing against your swollen center caused your legs to squeeze tightly together. Not knowing what to do with your hands, you gripped the sheets.

“Now,” Chan panted; having come undone slightly knowing that you were filled with pleasure. “I want you to power through and send me another picture. Can you do that? After you send it you are allowed to rub your clit.”

“Yes, Sir,” you breathed in excitement. Squeezing your eyes shut for a second, you shakily reached for your phone and tapped the screen on. It opened at your face and you sent him the ‘live’ picture you had been planning on sending next—you with the shirt completely off now, your breasts full and heaving in a black lace push-up bra as your left hand played with your clit inside of your panties, the vibrator still within your depths, just like it was right now. The short video was only three seconds, but it was abundantly clear what you were doing.

The moan that left Chan seemed to echo within your mind when he finally saw it. The sound was so arousing that your hand immediately ventured into your underwear to rub circles into your throbbing nub.

At this point you could hear Chan moaning every few seconds. You were too deep into your pleasure to even fathom what he was doing other than fucking his own hand, but when your phone lit up and you clicked the message, a video of his beautifully veiny arm gripping his cock greeted your eyes. It was thirty seconds long, hopefully in reaction to your pictures, and you could see how undone he was as he jerked himself off. During the last ten seconds of the video you could see precum escaping the head of his cock as he squeezed the glands around his tip.

“Oh! I wish I could taste you,” you whined loudly. Your other hand was holding your phone, and your eyes were glued to the screen. The combination of your fingers rubbing your clit and the toy making a mess of your insides was getting you close, but you knew you had to wait for him.

“Yeah?” His voice was getting high and breathy which was a sign that he was getting close too. “I wish I could taste you too. You taste so good. ...Just imagine my head between your legs right now as the toy buzzes inside you. I’m sucking on your clit as hard as I can, making you buck against my face. Your hands are gripping my hair, tugging on it—fuck, I’m close, baby girl. I’m so close. I want you to come with me, okay?”

“Yes!” You loudly whispered. “Yes, I want you to come. I want to come so badly.”

The thought of him between your legs after such a long time began the tinglings of a large orgasm, making you curl your toes. Your hips were shaking as the warmth in your core increased, signaling your rapidly approaching climax. Your hand was moving fast now, rubbing your clit as hard as you dared as you heard him jerking himself off, attempting to hold back his moans. Just as the pleasure began to increase, you held your breath, wishing his hand was lightly gripping your throat as you attempted to hold back the orgasm just outside of your grasp.

“Baby girl—I’m, I’m gonna cum. I want you to come,” he said breathlessly in his haste. “I wish I was with you so I could cum inside. I know how much you love to be full of my cum. I—”

Fireworks exploded behind your eyelids as your entire body spasmed, making you curl into yourself as you turned on your side. Your walls clenched fiercely around the toy, only making your orgasm last just that much longer. What part of your consciousness that still existed in that moment registered the sound of him coming on the other end of the line. He grunted, and you wished with your entire being that his cock was down your throat, letting you swallow his cum whole.

What was probably just a moment of mutual panting as the both of you tried to calm back down, it felt like an hour had passed. You weakly turned off of the vibrator so the overstimulation could cease, and just spent the next moment existing as your heart began to slow as the edges of your orgasm faded away.

“Baby?” He sounded just as wrecked as you.

“Y-Yeah?”

“Do—“ he took in a deep breath before blowing it out. “Do you need any aftercare?”

Licking your lips, your eyes fluttered open as you began to uncurl yourself. “No… I’m--I’m probably ready for sleep though. Let me, um, clean myself up and I’ll be right back, okay?”

“I’ll be here, love.”

Leaving your bed, you quickly, but shakily, went to your bathroom. When you turned on the light, you had to squeeze your eyes closed for a moment--your eyes too sensitive after being in darkness for so long. As quickly as you could, you took the vibrator out, ignoring the shiver that ran down your spine as you cleaned it and left it out to dry, and then went to clean up the mess that was your nether region.

Two minutes later you were all clean, and with a fresh pair of undies, sleepily sliding back into bed and pulling the sheets up over you. Putting your headphones back in your ears, you tap your phone on and smile when you see the call was still on.

“Chan?”

“I’m here.”

Smiling, and ignoring the tears that immediately came to your eyes due to just how much you missed him, you cleared your throat while covering the mic so he couldn’t hear. When you were good, you moved your hand back and whispered, “I love you.”

It was quiet for a second, but when he spoke again, you could hear the smile in his tone. “I love you too. What do you need to fall asleep, sweetheart?”

“Just your voice. Sing me to sleep, Chanstopher.”

Chan hummed happily at the endearing nickname before whispering, “Your wish is my command.”

Within a minute of him singing you a ballad version of ‘Tenerife Sea’ by Ed Sheeran, you were fast asleep.

#bang chan smut #^#unlock^

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princessjungeun · 4 years

Text

Champion

Content warning: violence, blood, fighting, bullying-ish? Talk of homelessness and family issues

The reader i wrote as a black, queer, female. If you don’t like that oh well, use your imagination then :)

You didn’t necessarily choose the flighting life, it chose you. Growing up you didn’t have the picture perfect family that many had. To be honest you couldn’t even really say you had a family. That was until you met Matthew, known as BM.

Before meeting BM you were sleeping on benches, in hostels, or in a kind older woman’s house. One night you were approached by a young man in his late 20s. He offered you a place to stay, he’s pay for your school, and whatever else you needed. At the time you were only a young teenager, so going with him could be risky. But winter was coming and you knew you’d end up dead if you stayed on the streets.

Matthew knew you weren’t straight from the day he met you. He saw how broken you were from not having a family and he understood to a certain degree what that felt like. He knew if he left you on the streets, itd be dangerous for you. A young, black, queer, female didn’t belong on the streets.

BM kept his word and took care of you as if you were his younger sister. He was a trainer by day and fighter by night, competing in UFC fights every weekend. He told you constantly that you were going to learn to fight, but her never actually trained you.

You had a lot of past issues and traumas which contributed to some of the internal anger you had. Matthew often told you that if you tried fighting or even just swinging at his heavy bag, it’d help you feel better. But you always pushed the idea away not wanting to waste time on a coping mechanism you know probably wouldn’t work. He’d asked time and time again if there was anything he could do to help, but you always refused. The thing was you weren’t one to open up about yourself. Besides Matthew you didn’t know anyone really. Even in school, nobody talked to you other than your best friend, Hyunjin and your girlfriend Lia.

You and Hyunjin bonded over the fact that you two lived almost similar lives. He understood a lot of the things you went through and how you feel now.

Whereas Lia...she was different. Lia was the first person you ever met that made you feel something. Lia was the only person that could make you smile by doing absolutely nothing. You definitely don’t look like the type to be with someone like her but you’d go to any length to protect her. Even if it meant you got in trouble, you had nothing to lose anyways.

This was put to the rest one day in school while you and Lia were passing to classes together. You ended up getting in a fight and badly injuring another student.

When BM came to pick you up, he saw the male student you beat up being driven to a hospital. No charges were pressed as you were doing it in self defense, as you had many witnesses to help you defend your case.

You sat at the kitchen table as he yelled at you furiously. “What the fuck are you thinking Y/N?!” You looked down and said “leave it alone i’m not in trouble with the law, his parents aren’t pressing charges.” Matthew asked, anger laced in his voice “that doesn’t matter you could have killed him.” You responded bluntly “but i didn’t. Isn’t that right? Plus you don’t even know what happened!”

The two of you went back and forth for minutes before you were both calm enough to actually explain in detail what happened. “I was in the hallway with my....uh- Lia and this boy touched her ass. And then I told him he needed to apologize and he pushed me and told me to fuck off. Then I told him if he touched me again I’d beat his ass...and he pushed me to the floor and I told him again to apologize to Lia. But then he threw Lia to the ground then punched me in the face. So I started hitting him and I-I guess I lost control.”

Matthew sat in silence for a moment then he said “you’re gonna learn to control it. Come on, get up.” You asked “huh?” He repeated himself “I said get up.” You groaned then followed him outside to the garage. There, hanging from the ceiling was a heavy bag, and weights littered across the floor. Putting gloves on your hand he said “punch me.” Looking at him with wide eyes you said “wha-no I’m not going to-” He yelled “PUNCH ME GODDAMN IT!” You did as he said and full force threw a punch. He caught your hand in his, looking at your fist in his hand he smiled.

It was now that he decided that he was going to take a break from competing so he could train you. In the beginning he was afraid you’d get hurt, although he wasn’t your blood relative, he took care of you like one.

You trained before and after school with Matthew. Running mile after mile, throwing punch after punch, push up after push up. You never got a break unless you were seriously injured. Matthew showed no mercy, although you were like his baby sister, he needed you to be the best fighter in the circuit.

Nobody in school knew exactly what you were doing, but it was evident at the growing muscles in your legs and arms. Also the fact that you were constantly bringing meal prepped food Matthew made for you as your lunch.

You girlfriend grew suspicious of what you were building strength and muscle for, but she never asked. She told herself that if you wanted to share with her what was going on, you’d do it on your own time.

Eventually the day came for your first fight. Matthew woke you up in the morning and you both took a light jog in the morning. He didn’t want to overwork you before your big day.

•

Hours passed as you anxiously awaited your first fight. You were nervous but you tried to play it off, but Matthew could read you like a book. “You’ll do fine. I trained you well. Make me proud ok?” He hugged you and kissed your forehead, this was the first time he truly showed affection to you.

He helped you braid down your hair so it was out of your face. “Look at me.” He held your face in his hands as he applied a thin layer of Vaseline to your face. “It’ll help make the punches slide off...sounds weird but it works.” You let him grease up your face before saying a quick prayer that you’d be ok.

When you walked into the arena loud shouts filled the building. You did your best to not look terrified but it definitely didn’t work. Matthew removed your robe before telling you “it’s fine. Your opponent is a rookie like you, she hasn’t done this before ok? Relax and concentrate...and don’t kill her.” You nodded before doing a quick handshake with him and walking into the ring.

The overhead speaker filled the arena “For the first Rookie fight of the night We have Y/LN Y/N of Korea vs Pranpriya Manoban of Thailand!” You looked up at the girl in front of you, she was definitely at least 21 whereas you were still a minor, almost an adult. The two of you shook hands before starting.

Pranpriya put up a good fight, but you won fairly quickly. You ended up coming out with a busted lip to show for your victory while Pranpriya was knocked out on the floor. Matthew shouted wildly, incredibly proud of you. A smile creeped onto your face as the referee held your arm up, indicating that you won.

•

Fight after fight you won, gaining attention of not only Korean citizens, but internationally as well. You remained the youngest rookie in the circuit, as well as the youngest with the most wins.

You gained the name Ali after Muhammad Ali, although you weren’t a boxer, you had the passion, the strength, and humbleness of Ali.

People talked about you wherever you went. There were constantly cameras following you and Matthew. Lia is still your girlfriend as well. For a while she didn’t know you fought, as she didn’t keep up with UFC news. When she found out she refused to come to your fights. Even though you won almost everytime, she couldn’t bear seeing you get hit.

The only fight Lia agreed to attend was the first and only one you lost. Without a doubt you didn’t make it easy, but you didn’t tap out when you should have. The result was brutal. It was against a champion, Ha Sooyoung. She was a rookie like you but she was known to be violent, beating her opponents until they were just barely able to walk out the ring. Many asked why she was still allowed to fight, as many thought she was violating some type of rule. As it turns out she wasn’t. Sooyoung never once broke a rule.

Sooyoung not much older than you but she was far better at that time. She was known to be vicious and quite talkative in the ring. She’d say anywhere from one word, to a full lecture. Her words got to her opponents easily, making her lethal. At the time you weren’t worried about her, but you learned the hard way not to be so nonchalant. You started out winning but slowly your chance of victory faded.

Making sure to not stay in one place, you walked around the ring. You’d already gotten punched in the face so much your lip was busted, nose with dry blood, and a puffy eye. Out of the corner of your eye you saw your girlfriend watching you.

Sooyoung followed your gaze before smirking and going in for another jab. You fell to the ground and Sooyoung climbed on top of you. At this point your vision was practically gone, your ears ringing. You could hear Matthew shouting for you to fight back, but you couldn’t push Sooyoung off. You felt pain sear through your body punch after punch, kick after kick.

“She’s teasing you! Tap out Y/N! ITS FINE TAP OUT PLEASE!” You heard Matthew shout from the side of the ring. Although you didn’t know what to do, you knew for a fact you weren’t going to tap out, you’re not a quitter. You felt Sooyoung throw a punch, this time hitting your lower ribs. Wind knocked out of your chest and you gasped for air. You felt your body cry for help but you weren’t letting up.

As the last of your adrenaline flowed through your veins you went to punch Sooyoung in the head, but she grabbed your arm. She smirked once more before whispering “K.O.” Everything went black and you fell back against the ground.

Due to that loss you needed a break from fighting to heal. You suffered a concussion, three broken ribs, a broken nose, a broken jaw, ruptured apendex, 3 stitches in your lip and 8 over your eye. The healing process was beyond terrible for you, as all you wanted to do was train again. Your doctor told you that you were lucky, if she punched you at another angle you would have died.

Although you were grateful she didnt go through and do the complete worst, she did get you pretty good. Once you fully healed you weren’t able to forget that night. Solely because of the scar that ran down your eye. Matthew jokingly called you Scar, as your scar closely resembled the Lion King character’s.

You continued training as soon as you got clearance from your doctor. Once again you remained a champion against everyone, except Sooyoung. You’ve never fought her after that night, as much as you wanted to, there was still a fear that she’d do much worse than she already did.

Now you were weeks away from the World Champions. You could have gone last year if you hadn’t lost that fight. It was set that you were to fight the one opponent that you’ve never beaten, Ha Sooyoung.

•

“Baby.” You shook Lia’s leg and she looked up at you, “Hmmm?” You asked “I know you don’t like coming to my fights anymore...but worlds is in a few weeks and it’d mean a lot if you were there.” She responded “of course I’ll go see you at worlds, do you know who you’re fighting?” You nodded and carefully said “um...funny story.”

You stopped for a minute then decided to just rip off the bandaid. “Ha Sooyoung.” Lia froze in your embrace.

“Is that a good idea? I mean I’m not saying you’re a bad fighter...obviously you’re amazing but- She almost killed you Y/N.” She brought a hand up to your face and ran her fingers along the scar on your eye. Lia softly said “I don’t want to lose you.” You kissed her lips softly and said “it’s fine, this time I’ll win. I promise you will never lose me.”

Matthew flung the door to your room open, “What did I tell you about closing the door all the way?” You both in unison said “sorry it won’t happen again.” He nodded and said “Y/N come on we need to practice.” You nodded and stood up, kissing your girlfriend goodbye.

•

Finally the day of World Championships came. You didn’t feel the nerves hit until you were in the ring. Everyone around you was screaming your name, a few cheering for Sooyoung. She looked different this time. Her hair was short now, she looked bigger, stronger. But so were you.

Sooyoung got you pretty good the first round, your cheek starting to bruise from a punch she threw. Your leg already in slight pain from a kick and elbow jab.

She moved around you, eyeing to see if you’d look away. She made a move to kick your side, she missed. Your eyes locked with hers and she smirked “wheres your little girlfriend? Lia is it?” You ignored her but she continued talking “she’s pretty that one. Pretty eyes. Soft smile. That cute dimple, she’s cute don’t you think?”

Your opponent continued to taunt you, knowing from her first victory that Lia was your weak spot. You’d gotten quite a few punches and kicks in, but nothing that was putting you at an advantage.

Sooyoung walked up on you this time trying to knock you to the ground. Quickly you maneuvered around her, so now she was the one on the ground. The two of you went at it, dodging slaps, punches, and elbow jabs.

She ended up rolling over so now you were below her, your one arm underneath her leg. Sooyoung delivered a hard punch to your shoulder and she smiled when you winced in pain. She asked “this is what happened last time right? And your little girlfriend watched me damn near beat the life out of you? It’s a shame she’s going to have to see that again don’t you think?”

You felt her fist collide with your side, she without a doubt broke the same ribs she did before. Putting you in a headlock you felt panic rush through your body. Her voice laced with venom “when will you learn? You can’t beat me. I hope you told her you loved her.” Sooyoung swung again knocking you square in the cheek. As your eyes started to flutter shut, breath escaping too fast for more to come in, a familiar voice ripped through the arena “Y/N!”

Lia

Your eyes flew open at the sound of your girlfriend’s panicked screams. With all your strength you jammed your elbow into Sooyoungs side. She let go of you and with all your strength you rolled over, Sooyoung now beneath you. You could see the look of fear in her eye as your fists collided with her body. Seeing nothing but red you continued punching and slapping her, squeezing your thighs around her torso.

Blood spilled from her nose and ear, her lip busted, eye swollen shut. You jabbed her ribs again, letting your strength and anger take control of you. Even when she’s long been unconscious you were still hitting her. Two large referees pulled you off of her, tears stinging your eyes as you cried out of frustration.

The arena fell silent as you all waited to see if Sooyoung would get up, the countdown boomed through the speakers. “3! 2!-” As it was about to hit one Sooyoung’s eyes fluttered open and she staggered to get up. She limped over to you, looking even more angry than she was before.

Sooyoung wiped blood from her eye before saying “you thought it’d be that easy?” Without hesitation you stepped closer before roundhouse kicking her in the temple. She fell to the floor and this time she definitely wasn’t getting up without help. Screams of your name ripped through the arena and you looked at the referee who deemed you the winner.

Still in shock you didn’t really understand what was happening until you were handed the World Champions belt. You posed for the pictures that were to be taken, however you didn’t smile. It was evident that you were still confused.

When the gate to the ring opened you saw Lia and Matthew standing with proud smiles. You dropped the heavy belt into Matthew’s arms as soon as you could. Throwing yourself into Lia’s arms you sobbed heavily, thanking God you were able to walk out victorious.

The small girl under your embrace held you tight, with every passing second she held you closer. Finally she broke and she cried “I was so scared I was going to lose you”. You pulled away and wiped away her tears “I promised you I wasn’t going anywhere.” You held her face in your hands before kissing her again.

The referee shoved you back into the ring, this time Sooyoung was gone. The only traces remaining of the young Korean woman was her blood stained on the floor.

Balloons and confetti rained from the ceiling, people’s shouting your name filled the arena.

“Ladies and gentlemen. We now have our 2020 UFC World Champion! Y/N ‘ALI’ Y/L/N!” You held the championship belt over your non injured shoulder with a smile.

Once again you were the champion.

#kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop fluff #itzy imagines #itzy scenarios #choi jisu #loona imagines #loona scenarios #loona sooyoung #loona yyxy #loona yves #ha sooyoung

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