#because for whatever reason that one fact carried over

[desireangel]

Dark Cherry [4] | Aemond Targaryen

Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader

Summary: after months of a marriage that hardly harbours the passion that you'd dreamed about, you stumble across the reason for your husband's indifference and decide enough is enough. Aemond will learn just exactly what he's been missing out on.

Word Count: 5.5k

Warnings: MDNI 18+!! canon divergence!!! I fucked the timeline and nigly bits bc this was an impulse fic ok soooo it was mostly unplanned, almost smut, angst, let the grovelling happen babyyy, unedited, mention of alys x aemond but not in a good way :((, infidelity, talk of sex, guilt, mentions of Aegon x reader, hmmm I ramble, little vulnerable Aemond, bad language, let me know if I've missed anything!

Author's note: y'all I was never done with that man like there's no easy out for him :llll. Anyways I wrote most of this instead of studying which I needed to do. Perhaps I'll have my hand at another idea I'm cooking before part 5 but I'm alsoooo unsure about how keen we are to keep this one going - like is it getting too much??? either way, I enjoy writing this. and idk how to shut up, clearly, because I love that internal mind talk shit. Drop your thoughts in my inbox or PM me because I love to yap!!! xoxo, kisses!!! <3

Masterlist

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He was a fool. A spoiled, arrogant and entitled fool. You often thought about whether Aemond actually recognised the effect of his actions on anyone else. It was always ‘I did it for us’ or ‘I did it because I had to do it’.

So after your confrontation the day before, it had surprised you that Aemond had truly believed he was forgiven. Maybe it shouldn’t have. You had, after all, sat beside him and laughed with him. Shared a moment as if things were better. But it was nothing more than a lighthearted acknowledgement that whatever game was being played was entirely ridiculous yet you could feel how something had changed. There was a newfound intensity between the two of you and Aemond had clearly understood that he had made a mistake

But that wouldn't be enough for forgiveness. Things would never really be the same. You will never forget. The nameless woman had made a home in your unconscious mind and everything would remind you of the woman your husband had chosen to take to bed over you. She was beautiful, she was experienced and free of burden. Based on that alone a part of you could see why she could have been a better choice–a part of you that ached and pained ceaselessly. 

And you weren’t sure you could carry on as if Aemond hadn’t thrown your entire world into the pits of ruin. Because that is exactly what he may as well have done. All you had was your marriage to him–a fact that was as painful as it was true. If it all fell apart because of him only you would suffer from it. 

Your name, your family’s name. A Lady born to a house of remarkably lowly nobility with little more than your marriage to the prince. A charity case marriage to tell the realm’s people that the Crown was not so prejudiced as to be above uniting with the likes of your house. That the Lannisters and Baratheons were important but they were not everything. A fabrication only made necessary to cover up the fact that it was a lie–the Targaryens (and even the Hightowers as you had come to realise) really did believe they were of better blood. 

A failure to fulfil your duty to the Targaryen crown as Prince Aemond’s wife would destroy your family name. And you would have no prospect of happiness after it. What else did you have aside from this?

Aemond would never understand that. Because not only was he a man but he was a prince. A privilege, a safety and a security he had inherited through birth. 

Aside from the pressures of society, he had hurt you. Badly. 

Despite your own confliction about it, you did have love for Aemond–how could you not? Love came from many things and while yours may have come from your dependance on his word, on the duty he performed to be your protector as he was to the Crown and its subjects, on his polite affections as limited as they were, it still found its way into your heart. Perhaps it was foolish to allow it entry into your existence when you had already known that there was no love to come from Aemond. 

It didn’t change anything. Betrayed your trust, taken you for granted and destroyed the sanctity of a husband’s loyalty as if he were as dishonourable as any other Lord. 

You would never say it out loud but it had broken your heart. And heartache is a consuming, suffocating and painful thing to feel. A constant lump in your throat, something always weighing your chest down, a disastrous, aching discomfort in your belly. Tears had stained your pillow at night and dried by the morning, the fabric of the linen acquiring the same unphased facade that you would wear as you plastered on a mask of ignorance so that you could continue to live through your day. 

All because you had wanted him. Aemond, who was doomed to disappoint and destroy merely because that is all that princes do. 

For him to have mistaken your truce–the end to the back and forth game that had been wreaking havoc in its wake-as forgiveness was infuriating. He had no idea. 

Well, maybe he did. Now that he had seen you with another just as you had seen him. And you recognised your own experience in the moment he had realised what was happening. 

Aemond’s call to breakfast made you want to laugh. But you had turned him down for afternoon tea just the day before only to be found swallowing his brother’s seed. You winced at the shamefulness of your thought, muttering a quick prayer for the sake of your piety whether it was genuine or not. 

He was seated lazily in the chair he favoured, an array of food spread across the table. There was a book in his hand. The same one he had taken from you the last time you had shared your morning meal together. Aemond had a smirk playing on his lips. 

You cleared your throat, curtsying before sitting down at the other end of the table to him and with as much distance between you as you could muster. “Good morrow, my Prince,”

“Formalities, I see,” He looked at you through his lashes. It was odd seeing him so relaxed, the tension that was always in his shoulders had been lost and there was a playful glint to his eye. You wanted to smack it out. “I believed we were past titles and distance for the sake of propriety, my sweet. As well as rigid greetings.”

All you responded with was a stare. 

Dropping the book to his side, Aemond sighed and leaned forward, pouring tea into a cup. He stood, taking a couple steps forward to hand it to you. “We have fixed-”

“We have fixed nothing.”

“I am trying to turn a new leaf,” he commanded. You took the cup and saucer from his hand, the warm waft of vanilla and rose giving you a slight reprieve from the threat that rolled off his tongue. “If you do not recall, dear wife, I as well have every reason to resent you. The image of you sucking on my useless brother’s cock is not one I can easily bare. Yet I have chosen to let it be. I could have easily decided otherwise.”

“That would make you a hypocrite.” You glanced at him over the rim of your teacup. 

“It does not matter much if I am a hypocrite, does it?” Aemond sat, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. He wasn’t bothered with the food in front of him, focused solely on you. “I hardly see how that would change anything.”

You squirmed under the intensity of his stare, picking up a cherry from the bowl of fruits and rolling the stem between your fingers. “It matters to me. Certainly, it matters for your reputation among the smallfolk. Nobody cares for a selfish prince, my dear.”

Aemond hummed, smirking at the venom you spat at him. You noticed the coin that he rolled between his fingers, nimble and thoughtless as if it were like breathing. Not so much a nervous habit but a thoughtful one. 

He couldn’t lie and say that he didn’t enjoy your confidence. It was refreshing. But there was a dip in his gut at the thought that there was no hope for the two of you. Aemond, ever logical, knew he had no one else to blame but himself with his lack of foresight and failure to see beyond the now and here. 

Because Aemond had not even considered how things would go on should you not forgive him. He had assumed that you would if not merely on the basis that there was little lost from a relationship that hardly existed in the first place. You had love for him and he was so convinced that such a thing would be impossible that he didn’t consider that it would cause you heartache beyond slighted offence and jealousy. 

A violet eye lingered on the cherry that remained between your fingers. Aemond was good at putting on an act. He thought for a moment that he would rather take lashes to his back than have you know that he had no idea how to love someone properly. A part of him was persuaded that he was incapable of being a good lover. The lashes seemed like a blissful gift compared to the self-loathing that simmered in his belly at the probability that he had ruined any chance your marriage had of recovery.  

It crossed his mind that it was his ignorance towards you right from the beginning that had damned your relationship. 

Either way, it did not help that you had turned to his brother for intimacy. Aemond felt his blood scorch whenever that invaded his mind. He wanted to crumble the walls of this fortress when he wondered if Aegon had enjoyed your womanhood. Jealousy did motivate him well, he realised, and Aemond had the murderous urge to feed Aegon to Vhagar. 

Nonetheless, he feigned amusement. “It seems as if you care for one.”

You ate the cherry. It was sweet and rich. All you replied with was an upturn of your chin as you gracefully held a small embroidered towel to your lips.

“So I am not forgiven?” Aemond had to break the silence before it cut him open. “Are we not even?”

Narrowing your eyes at him, you held back a surprised laugh. “You never apologised. Not that it would make any difference.”

“That does not answer my question.”

“Of course you are not forgiven,” you sighed. The tea cup hit the table with a clang. Your disdain for his actions and his ignorance gave you an unfettered confidence around him which you weren’t accustomed to. It made it very difficult to control yourself. “And no, we are not even, my Prince. And since you have brought it to my attention, I am of half a mind to find Aegon and offer him a meal between my thighs. You see, I have often wondered how it would feel and I expect that our King would be happy to indulge my… curiosities.”

Aemond sneered, a silent one that was more visible in his intake of a breath, the curl of his lips and the hardening of his eye. Bullseye. 

It took him less than a couple seconds to be on his knees in front of where you sat, a strong hand tightly gripping each side of your thighs over the thick fabrics of your dress. He had shoved the table aside, unphased as tea spilled and fruits and cheeses toppled to the floor. Something in the look of bewilderment on your face had Aemond ready to both grin at your clueless innocence and frown at your shock.

Aemond didn’t let himself dwell on the fact that you had given up on expecting such pleasures from him. He was your husband; nothing about what he was clearly intending on doing to you should surprise you. Cursing himself to perdition would not be enough for how he has failed you. 

“I feel obliged to remind you that we had agreed,” he grazed his nose across your knees, looking up at you through his eyelashes, jaw clenched tight as he all but growled his words. “That there will be no more of this foolishness. Not from you and not from me.”

It was an onslaught of different things that had rendered you still and silent. The way Aemond looked at you like you were the only satiating force for his eternal hunger, the wordless mixture of desire and anger in how his fingers dug into the flesh of your thighs, the desperation in his voice, strained by the fear that you would. Or was it the overwhelming feeling that Aemond was finally taking some accountability and that maybe he recognised not what his actions were but the meaning that they carried?

For a moment Aemond just looked at you, conflicted and fragmented and unguarded. The sight of him like this reminded you of a vulnerable child. But it didn’t last long before the menacing, cautionary glint was back in his eye, his posture becoming rigid as shuffled the fabrics of your skirts. 

A new kind of anxiety overcame you. Not like the insignificant nervousness you had felt that night when you had wandered into his chambers or used his leg to make yourself peak and not like the clueless apprehension with Aegon. It formed a ball in your chest and made it hard to breathe. 

There was no chance he would ever admit it but you could see Aemond’s vulnerability and desperation within the hardened facade he had perfected. He wanted nothing more than to seem strong and powerful at all times, worthy of acclaim and reverence. But here he was, willing to stay on his knees and worship you forever, all under the pretence of rageful infatuation. 

It was too hot. Even with the cool of the shadows cast by the dark net curtains that only let in enough daylight to see clearly and not enough to cause Aemond irritation from sensitivity in his eye, it was so warm you worried you would have to rip the sleeves off of your dress.

You were snapped out of your thoughts when Aemond let out a soft, dark groan, running his fingers across the expanse of your legs over your stockings, your skirts already bunched at your hips. Skin burning at his touch, you couldn’t help the way you whined and squeezed your thighs together, squirming under the intensity of his gaze. 

His voice was heavy with the burden of lust and regret. “I will be better. In all the ways that I have failed you and more. Your forgiveness, I realise, is not as easily granted as I presumed but I will show you that I am worthy of it.” 

There was a moment of weakness in your mind before you caught yourself. You didn’t quite believe him. It had clearly been too easy for him to give you empty promises and there was no reason why things would be different now. 

It was odd. Seeing Aemond weak like this. 

What would it mean if you let him continue? It was clearly different this time. You couldn’t put it into words exactly but there was a rawness, a blitz of different emotions that set things ablaze and made you want to both weep and mewl for him. 

You couldn’t spare a thought about why it was different. Aemond was right there, a weaponised Prince on his knees for you, a lowly Lady with nothing more to offer him than yourself. Since when did you hold all this power over him? 

That night in his bedchambers and last night when you had shared a laugh despite everything that had unfolded felt detached in a way. When you had allowed yourself release over his leg it was simply that. A way to ease the tension he had put in your body and a way to leave him wanting.

Aemond’s eye swam with a tenderness you had not seen from him. He continued to look up at you waiting to gauge your response. It was a slight nod of your head which had his hands tearing at the soft fabric of your stockings, his lips instantly meeting the skin of your knees before you had the chance to even gasp. All the while, he kept his eye on you as if his heart would cease to beat if he could not watch the way you reacted to him. 

It became increasingly harder to breathe. There were so many thoughts, so many sensations that you struggled to put it all together. Your flushed with anticipation, your cunt throbbed at the wet plushness of his lips on your hot skin and your hips squirmed at what was to come. 

Your mind, however, flashed with the image of Aemond, exactly as he was now, between another woman’s thighs. A woman who didn’t flinch at the unfamiliar touch, who didn’t jerk away at the foreign feeling of being pleasured. You wondered if he would be so angered at the prospect of another man’s mouth on her womanhood, if her skin felt softer or more rough on his lips and if he looked at her with the same heated need.

It made you feel sick. 

Aemond let himself enjoy the way your thighs tensed, pulling your smallclothes off of you as much as carefully as he could under the restriction of your skirts. There was an urge to rip the entire dress off but he knew it would be a step too far. He couldn’t help the low sounds that left him, sounds he couldn’t recognise. The expanse of your thighs and the sight of your flushed, hot cunt in front of him made his mouth water with a hunger that would have shocked him had he not been so distracted by your scent. 

Without complete vision, Aemond had learned to train his sense of touch, taste, smell and hearing to make up for the disadvantage he was stuck with. They were always slightly heightened compared to those who never needed the compensation of senses but in the cloud of desire and lust, he was sensitive. 

You whined at the way his tongue glided over your skin, biting down hard but not hard enough to be painful on the flesh of your upper thigh so close to where you needed to feel him. But Aemond was always remarkably patient and he merely made way to your other leg, repeating his ministrations and licking you from your knee to where he bit you at your thigh. 

The haze that had possessed you made you lose track of your thoughts so easily. Still, they fought their way to the forefront of your mind at every chance they could and you were reminded of her. 

Aemond’s mind was overwhelmed by you. There was no power in the realm that could make him think of anything else, not with the way you were trembling under his feathered touch and making such beautiful sounds for him, and not when he desired for anyone else apart from you. 

A heavy breath of shame and excitement tumbled out of you at how lewdly he dragged the tip of his nose across your thigh, pressing it into the flesh that sat above your slick, aching cunt and inhaling. You clenched around nothing, your clit twitching at the sound of Aemond’s unabashed groan. 

He grasped at your hips and your legs, his fingers burying into your flesh and tugging as if there would never be enough of you in his hands. It would have driven you into a similarly desperate state had things been different. 

The prince between your thighs was a sight to behold. Aemond’s skin was flushed pink, his eyepatch slightly out of place and his hair tousled from the way your legs clenched and unclenched against his head. He was almost drooling, mumbling about how good you smelled and how perfect and pretty your cunt was for him. His cock had never been so hard, constricted by the stiff leather of his training attires. 

Aemond enjoyed being a tease but there was only so much he could handle himself. While he wanted you to crave for him the way he was craving you so unbearably, Aemond needed to taste you. He needed to make you feel the blinding pleasure he should have been giving you at every chance he had since the night you were married. He needed to show you the ways of unbridled human desire and to show you all the ways your body could come undone and fall apart only to feel completely whole and fulfilled. 

There was no changing the past but Aemond would make up for how completely inattentive he had been. He would show you all the more fervently. When Aemond placed an open mouthed kiss just above your slit, letting a string of his spit glide off of his tongue onto your sensitive pussy, you shuddered.

All at once your mind was once again taken over by unsavoury thoughts. It had your eyes welling with tears, a familiar lump lodging in your throat, threatening to come out in a devastated sob. There was a ringing in your ears and you were back at Aemond’s door, peeking in only to see him giving that woman the same touch he was giving you right now. He had seemed so enthralled by her and the way she must have tasted. It was as if he’d been there before, indulging in her with so much passion it rivalled how eagerly touched you in this moment. 

Did her smell fill his veins with fire as yours was? Did her scent alone make his cock as painfully hard as yours did? Did her cunt drip for him the way yours did? Was the hunger in his eye shining for her too?

It was terrifying to consider. 

Aemond would spend hours here, he had decided. His duties for the day could be damned to the hells for all he cared. There was a rumbling in his chest for what he saw in front of him, inviting him to indulge and filling his mind with senseless ardour. Aemond let himself enjoy just the scent of you, his eye fluttering shut and his nose gently resting above your folds as he breathed you in, caressing your thighs softly with his hands. As if he were starved for years, Aemond salivated and with no patience left within him, he brought his lips downwards to meet the precious cunt he had been dreaming of. 

With a whimper that you couldn’t hold back, you jerked away from him. Aemond pulled away in surprise, his gaze full of confusion and lust and insecurity. “Wait, my love—“

You had slipped free of his grasp, a strangled cry escaping no matter how hard you tried to keep it in. There was one tear that slipped free, followed by countless more and you couldn’t look at him anymore, couldn’t bear to see that he was hurt before scrambling away from him. 

She was stuck in your mind. The memory of Aemond’s little trysts with her replaying behind your eyes no matter how hard you tried to shut it out. It was clear that there was nothing you could do to get ahold of yourself because everytime you looked at him, so enthralled in you and your sex, she was there. 

Laughing at you in the back of your mind, as if she had taken residence in a permanent place in your head, enjoying the state of despair and madness she and Aemond had led you to. 

But she couldn’t be in your head. Not really. Not in the way it felt she was. 

You barely glanced back at Aemond through your tears, struggling to even your breathing and calm the rapid beating of your heart. He hadn’t moved much; just simply stayed there frowning at the space that you had once occupied on the chair. 

There was nothing he could do to change things. Aemond knew that as well as you did. But there was a pain in your heart at the way he looked so defeated, so guilty that it almost seemed like he would melt into a puddle of remorse. A far stretch from the usual stoic warrior that you had known him as.

“My prince, I–” you swallowed, your voice catching when he looked up at you with a wide eye and furrowed eyebrows. For a moment you remembered that he had no right - but he was trying, was he not? “I cannot continue with this knowing that you had touched her like this. It angers me and it upsets me and it pains me to think of it but ‘tis beyond my control.”

He stayed silent, observing the way you hid yourself from him and struggled to meet his gaze. There was a sullen look to you, one you had not entered with and it stuck needles in his flesh to think that he had been the cause of it. Aemond’s entire body felt hot and he was itching to tear off his leathers. He wished the gods would strike him down as he was for hurting you so.

You had turned away, disappearing from his quarters swiftly. You would never forget the image of how you had left him there–it was both satisfying and devastating. 

Aemond, still on his knees for the ghost of you, his expression tortured and his shoulders tensed. It was a pathetic sight, should anyone stumble upon it, but you considered it beautiful. Beautiful in a lethal, catastrophic manner. Not unlike himself; a weaponised source of destruction who had a tendency to bring torment upon those he loved. 

The rest of your day had been spent alone in your chambers. You hadn’t cried so much over any of it until now. The tears and sobs that you had held inside of yourself for weeks had forced themselves out, along with the emotions you had pushed down until you could no longer. 

Aemond had a certain control while you were sitting in that seat, skirts bunched to your stomach and quivering for him to have his way. Regardless, the power was still yours and you knew that it was Aemond who was wrapped tightly around your finger at that moment. He would have listened to anything you had said–done anything you had told him to do. 

Perhaps you had become too stubborn in your anger to have let yourself feel anything else. A retributive anger; one that sprouted from the lack of love that existed in your marriage and reached a climax at Aemond’s brazen adultery. And it only grew stronger in whatever back and forth Aemond had encouraged by dangling his whore in front of your face. 

Whatever it was, you were feeling so much more now than you had before. 

Or perhaps it was because you could see that Aemond was remorseful. He would never yet admit it but you knew from the way he had behaved since you had visited him in his bed. It was no act of redemption and definitely no apology but it was impossible to ignore the change in him. You had never seen Aemond the way you had seen him this morning. 

Vulnerable, gentle, tormented. 

A knock on your door had you sniffling and wiping away any tear stains that may have lingered on your cheeks. You had stopped crying for some time but the need to wallow and lament had stayed. When you called out to ask, the guard at your door notified you of the Dowager Queen’s presence. 

Oh, seven hells. 

There was really no chance you could refuse her so you merely let her in and called a servant to bring some refreshments. Queen Alicent sat herself down but remained tense, carefully watching you as you took a place beside her. 

“Have you been crying?” Her concern was comforting. “I believe I know why.”

You straightened, not meeting the eye of the woman who reached a tender hand to your knee. Hiding behind a forced smile, you let out a breathy laugh. “I am certain the entirety of the Red Keep knows, Your Grace.”

“It has been known for some time,” Alicent was gentle, her cautionary gaze telling you that she was apprehensive about bringing her son’s misadventures up. You held your breath. “Since the first time he had summoned that Alys woman-”

“Alys? Is that her name?”

“You do not know?” There was a tense silence. Alicent couldn’t meet your gaze, pity swimming across her features. Aemond was her son and there were many things that she had let her sons get away with but her heart pained at the broken quiver in your voice. 

Alicent had noticed the change in Aemond since the night that you had found him with Alys. The second time. He had never paid much attention to you aside from what appearances required yet Alicent knew her son far more than he would be willing to accept. She had known that there was something in his heart for you, no matter how small and no matter how it dwindled until set alight. 

Aemond had done the wrong thing. She had no doubts about that. Alicent would have words with him once she figured out what to say to him. But he was her son and there were certain misdoings that she knew she had to defend them through. To protect his marriage, his image and his happiness. The Queen Dowager cleared her throat and reached for your hand, eyebrows furrowing at the way you stared down at your lap, the anguish you felt in your heart written clearly across your face. 

“I understand that you are hurting, my dear. Although my husband remained faithful to me until his death and I cannot quite imagine the pain in your heart–I see how you have love for my son, even if you nor him have known it, I do understand,” Alicent took a breath, closing her eyes. “This is the way of men. And princes–”

“Please, Your Grace, I mean this with utmost respect for you but I do not wish to hear your excuses,” you whispered. There was a prickly, breathless worry that had settled in your gut. What did you not know? Was this Alys someone who mattered? “But I would like to know what you are withholding from me about this woman. I believe I deserve that at the very least.”

Alicent stared at you for a moment, examining you. She could drive her son further into the ground with what she was about to say. “Aemond had a paramour–at least it was rumoured, he never spoke of such things with me. Alys Rivers, a wetnurse and servant woman from Harrenhal.”

“A paramour?”

“It was before you were married,” Alicent was quick to clarify. “I had assumed that Aemond wanted nothing more to do with her when she left–at his order, I believe. Some say she was a witch. Perhaps she enchanted him.” 

You couldn’t look at her. She was more than just a whore? Had he lied to you right from the beginning? Bile rose up in your throat. There was a thrum in your ears, the sound of your own heartbeat and you feared that you would be sick from the drop in your gut. 

“Did he love her? Could he still?”

Alicent sucked in a breath. “I do not know, my child.”

All you could do was nod pathetically. Alicent was a woman of great strength and dedication; you had once wished to be much like her one day. But as you sat beside her now, you wished she had been a liar and a cheat and a meddling gossip. That you could find a way to fault her words but you could tell it caused her great difficulty to speak of Aemond’s actions honestly. 

Ever poised and elegant, Alicent only leaned forward to you, her posture straight as a needle and her touch soft as linen. “I did not mean to upset you further. I only meant to speak with you about returning to Courtly activities, with the other Ladies and Helaena has been asking for you. And the Ladies speak–”

“They speak terribly of me,” you scoffed, allowing a humourless laugh. “I understand, Your Grace. I will return to spending my days in company other than my own.”

Alicent hated to pry but she felt that she must, now that she had dealt her cards against Aemond’s fate. “Perhaps you should speak with Aemond. He cares for you deeply. It would be a shame for your union to fall apart over such misunderstandings.”

If not for formality, you would have rolled your eyes. Again, you simply nodded, your mind reeling back to the woman that Alicent had given a name to. You would ask Aemond about her. It would be the less damning option rather than turning to Aegon once more but the idea of speaking to Aemond about a woman he may once have loved still made you want to crawl underneath the sheets of your bed and disappear. 

You thought of the woman who you had seen through the crack in the door and wished you had taken extra care in looking at her. There was little you could recall other than the darkness and length of her hair, the paleness of her skin and the perfection in her curves as she pleasured Aemond and as he did the same for her. 

As if she was familiar with all the things that made him weak. All the things that made Aemond weak. How she had touched him like she was an expert in his body. And you thought of Aemond, bare and comfortable with her. Aemond with his sapphire glimmering under the lamplight instead of an eye, a rawness and trust that you had never seen of him until that night. 

He trusted her.

Alys Rivers. 

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Tagging: @padfooteyes @thedyingwriter @mamawiggers1980 @queenofshinigamis @ewanmitchellfanatic @nurtargaryen

[dentos-wife]

If my math are right, Chrom would have been 29 in the OG timeline. Robin does not have a canon age due to being an avatar with 3models that seems to go from a range of 13 to over 29 but some people have theorized that it's Robin's birth that made the Exalt King, Chrom's dad, wage a war against Plegia to get rid of Grima's possible vessel. This took place 15 years ago, so if we assume that Robin may have at least spend a short ammount of time with Valider or that the news spread after, that means Robin was around 15-16 at the begining of the game. There is also the terrible support chain between F!Robin and Aversa where Robin mentions that Aversa might be a dozen older than Chrom,when she is only 8. If we assume that Robin made that comment using her physical appearance as a criteria (since in her support with Noire she acknowldege that she doesn't remember her age, but she just states that she is young), than that pretty much backs it up as this would mean that Robin is 3 years younger than Chrom, hence 9 years younger than Aversa more or less. Finally, there is the 2nd gen. Lucina and her friends are around the same age, but in the japanese version, Lucina mentions that she is was 16 years old when she traveled back to the past and stayed 2 years, making her 18 years old. This means all the 2nd units are around that age while keeping in mind that if they arrived and stayed in this timeline earlier than they ended up being older than 18 (for example Laurent). Severa, is called a child by Chrom, considering that she most likely is around 17 years old and that her father will comment that girl her age likes dress and in her support with F!Robin, Severa mentions that they are about the same age and that other future character like Owain and Gerome looks older than her (but to be fair they look older than their own mother, at least in this world) So that means that Robin would be around 15-16 pre timeskip, 17-18 post timeskip. Meaning that Future Fell Robin was barely 26 when all the shenanigans happened.

That's speculation however, so far the only canon thing about Robin is they don't like carrot and their cooking skills is a bigger mysteries than Bermuda Triangle and Intys is still using the multiverse excuse to make believe that default Robin is just another version of our Avatar to not invalidate anything (have it smooth Intys) but it's most likely that in the canon timeline Robin is a fresh adult whereas Fell Robin was in his late 20... while keeping in mind that in the game Chrom though they were twin.... not siblings with a 10 year age gap, but literal twins...

But ultimately Robin possesed by Grima shares his 2 000 year old and we can still wonder if the percentage of Naga Blood used to make Grima does'nt make Robin age slower or some stuff like this

Your reasoning seems solid enough to me. I always just picked a random age for Grima and used 25 so neat I was close!

I think in Awakening the reason for the models being the same is simply, less effort to make it. I would guess if Awakening got remake they'd get some upgrades and we'd have a 2 years later design for everyone and Grima might look slightly different. I say this because look at 3H and their two separate time skips and how well they went over, so they could potentially do some changes.

Or they could do absolutely nothing, depends on if they want to be Fire Emblem Echoes level or...Pokemon BDSP level

[pepprs]

hi update things are fucking terrible and my eyes hurt from sobbing. lol

[nsomniacsdream]

I have a hard time talking about American law enforcement, because I have ptsd (like a therapist told me this and everything) from my own experiences with cops and because it's so balls quaking insane.

Like, a cop in the United States can pull you over for any reason. Which is a nice way of saying no reason, because literally anything can be used after the fact as justification. A cop can say its cuz you looked at him, or didnt look at him, or it looked like you were holding something, or looked like you were driving too perfectly for it to be natural. It's insane.

There are apparently no circumstances where a cop can't just kill you. The line the courts have applied is "reasonably believed" you were a threat, but that's such a nebulous nothing limit that people get shot for reaching for their license, having their phone in their hand, you're running away with no weapon, not being able to follow conflicting commands, like anything. And cops are almost never charged, because every court is going to believe he could "reasonably believe" he was threatened. Fuck, if you give me enough time, I can make any situation seem juuuuust plausibly threatening enough to pass that bar. It's insane.

A cop can just rob you. Like tell you to give him your wallet, take all the cash out, and just walk away with it. Exactly like you would imagine getting robbed in an alley would go, except no one can help. And he doesn't even have to hide it, he just drops it in a box at the station and they put it in their bank account. It's legal. You can't prove it wasn't drug money. I can't prove any money wasn't at some point drug money. It's insane.

If a cop just walks in your front door and says "I'm here to kill you and your entire family" YOU ARE GOING TO PRISON IF YOU STOP HIM. There is no positive defense for assaulting a police officer in the United States, and doubly so if you kill him. You have effectively no defense against a homicidal cop, which happens same as any other job. Unless for some reason you have cameras all thru your house and clearly caught the audio of him saying that he's there just to kill you, you have zero chance of not going to prison, probably for life. And that's assuming you aren't killed "resisting arrest" while being taken into custody. It is a crime, in this country, for you to defend yourself under any circumstances if the person you're defending yourself from is a cop. That's insane.

You don't have civil rights if a cop says so. You have the right to have a gun, right? A lot of states have open carry. A cop can shoot you if he sees you have a gun. Doesn't matter if you have a license and everything. So you effectively don't have the right to bear arms if a cop can shoot you for exercising it. You have the right to protest. Unless a cop tells you to stop. He doesn't need a real reason to tell you to stop. And if you don't stop, you can be arrested or shot. So you don't really have the right to protest, do you? A cop cant just search your car or house, right? Unless he claims he heard something, or smelled something, neither of which can be proven. So a cop can search whatever he wants, as long as he pretends there was a "reason". So you dont have protection from unreasonable search and seizure, do you? These are no longer rights- they're things the cops allow.. for now. But legally, those rights have already been found to not actually be rights, because any random cop can decide to take that right from you, for any reason. It's insane.

These aren't like crazy things that I'm just making up, these aren't some weird twisted way I'm looking at something, these are all very real things that we all just.. ignore? Police abolitionists and the media bring these things up all the time, and the overwhelming response to it is: so what? Don't break the law and it won't matter. Blue lives matter. More police funding. Cops should have tanks. It's insane. And I always feel like im just rambling and sound insane when I say this kind of stuff because if you wrote a book and had the dystopian government doing the stuff that the police in this country do every single day, those same people who "back the blue" would line up to say stuff like "*Books government* wouldnt have a chance before us real americans stopped them" on twitter and not even get a hint of the irony.

[leqonsluv3r]

husband!leon kennedy

—re!4 husband leon x pregnant!wife!reader, a headcanon list

based on this one-shot request

masterlist taglist

an: decided to give you guys this hc list since you guys liked the oneshot so much, giving you guys a little peek of what happens after the oneshot. i’m finally moved and currently unpacking at my new place, i’ll be working on requests and opening them back up soon. hope you guys enjoy, pls reblog and like if you do <3

husband!leon who buys you all the food your body deserves. anything for his wife and his growing baby inside of you.

husband!leon who helps you plan and decorate the nursery for your child. he’s just happy he gets to be a dad, especially with you involved.

husband!leon who drives you to all of your doctors appointments, always having tears pool in his eyes whenever he sees your guys growing child on the ultrasound.

husband!leon who always lets you pick whatever you want for dinner, even if it’s not something he wants. as long as your happy and you get what you want.

husband!leon who massages your swollen feet after you complain how much they hurt. rubbing your calves and legs just to make sure your comfy. he wants what’s best for you.

husband!leon who rubs your belly when you both are laying in bed together, pressing kisses to it and talking to the unborn baby. he knows the baby can’t fully hear him yet but he’s too excited.

husband!leon who helps you pick out stuff for the baby to wear after you find out the gender. cute little onesies and footies, stuffed animals and whatever else your heart desires. only the best for his wife and his baby.

husband!leon who hangs up all the ultrasounds up on the fridge like a kid displaying artwork, he likes watching his baby grow. he’s still having a hard time believing he’s a father even if the evidence is right in front of him.

husband!leon who will go down on you because you can’t even touch yourself, making you moan and whimper. he knows the hormones make you more susceptible and more horny, he doesn’t mind one bit. knowing he’s the one that gets to ravish you when you’ve been pent up.

husband!leon who loves the fact that he can still fuck you like your not carrying his kid, practically crying on his cock as he pounds into you, rubbing your swollen tits and pressing kisses all over your body, caressing your belly. he knows you love it, giving each other what you want.

husband!leon who is the king of aftercare, especially when your pregnant. he helps you take a bath afterwards. giving you bubbles and even going so far as to getting in with you and massaging your back.

husband!leon who watches you struggle with the simple tasks you used to do before you were pregnant. if you need something from a shelf because it hurts for you to reach, he grabs it for you. if you can’t stop crying over the most simplest things, he hands you some tissues and holds your hand. he’s supporting you the whole way through this because you need it.

husband!leon who lets you lay on the couch on days your not feeling the best, letting you watch whatever your heart desires. even if it’s something he can’t even stand like the bachelorette or some bad reality tv show.

husband!leon who watches you open presents for the baby shower. your happy, opening little onesies and gifts from your guys friends and family. watching your mom cry happy tears when you open her gift; your stuffed bear from when you were a baby.

husband!leon who watches you hug your mom, stuffed bear still in your hand and tears pouring out of your eyes. he knows that you have been dealing with a lot going through this pregnancy and he’s just happy that your getting some joy out of it.

husband!leon who lets you have whatever weird craving your wanting. even if it’s pickles and frosting or peanut butter and graham crackers. he lets you have whatever you want, within reason, letting you have the cravings that make you and the baby happy.

husband!leon who when your doing the dishes, your water breaks. he doesn’t think first, he acts. he gets the bag that he’d packed and grabs you. he’s nervous but he’s doing his best to push his own nerves aside and get you and the baby to the hospital.

husband!leon who practically speeds down the interstate to get you to the hospital on time. weaving through a couple cars and speeding, all the while your hand is squeezing his in death grip as he just tells you to breathe through the contractions.

husband!leon who gets you to the hospital in one piece, your hand almost breaking his where he holds it. letting the nurse guide you into the delivery room to get you prepped for labor. your eyes are wide with pain and nerves, leon just keeps standing next to you, holding onto your hand and pressing kisses to your head the entire time.

husband!leon who watches as you push, push, and push over and over again. your doing so great and he’s so proud of you, being able to bring a life into this world, he’s never seen anything like it. he just rubs your back, the doctor kneeling in between your legs and helping the baby come out.

husband!leon who watches as the doctor tells you the babies almost here, your exhausted frame trying to push the baby out the rest of the way. he mumbles praises into your hair and ear, telling you that you can do it. you can push the baby out, you can get through this.

husband!leon who watches you do the final two pushes, the doctor helping the baby come out. leon hears the small cries before seeing the small baby being cradled in the doctors hands, his eyes watering at the sight. he looks over at you and sees how exhausted but happy you are, your eyes watering just like his.

husband!leon who watches as the nurse cleans and swaddles your guys baby, bringing it over to you. your eyes crying big tears. the baby looks just like the both of you combined, having your eyes and his cheeks. he sits gently next to you on the bed, rubbing your head. he admires you and your guys baby, how beautiful it is. how you did it, despite you thinking you couldn’t, he knew you could.

husband!leon who gets to hold the baby for the first time while you rest, talking to the baby in soft whispers, the babies only soft coos in response. “i’m your daddy, yeah…yeah, i’m your daddy…” he murmurs and watches as the baby wraps the tiny hand around his finger. “so cute…so cute…” he smiles as tears leak down his face.

husband!leon who days after you’ve healed from having the baby, you all three get to go home. leon goes from room to room with the baby, showing it its nursery and giving it a tour, even if his child isn’t going to remember this. he does it all the same.

husband!leon who changes his first diaper in the days following, who does it with pride. knowing that all his practice of learning the past nine months are going to use. he lets you rest and sleep whenever you have time in between feeding and bonding with the baby.

husband!leon who loves that he’s a husband and a father, he gets to watch his child grow. he gets to have that luxury and it wasn’t something he always thought was possible. and with you, it’s more achievable and he loves you even more for that if it’s even possible.

[prael]

Not Quite Home

Kinktember Day 15: Stand & Carry

Kepler Youngeun x male reader smut

words: 1,495 Kinktember Masterlist

She is everything you're not. Everything you hate. How can someone refuse to have a place to call home?

All this about being a free spirit and experiencing everything that the world has to offer all sounds well and good but how is a tree supposed to grow if it has no roots? But Youngeun insists that is exactly what she is after, the constant thrill, the constant novelty, the rush and urgency. In every interaction, she seems to have been in search of the next big adventure.

And you think you do her a disservice by not understanding.

Perhaps if you had met each other under other circumstances, things might have gone better for the two of you. But now, you resent how she feels like a stranger whenever you're together. She once brought an element of excitement and risk to a routine, drab life, but that grew exhausting and more than once made you feel like you were suffocating. You grew to loathe her carelessness.

"Your parents?" You ask as she stands in your bedroom for the third night in a row, "Have you even told them you're back in town?"

She shakes her head in lieu of an answer, "You know how they are."

"You're going to blame them for wanting their daughter to visit for once?"

Youngeun laughs. It's one of your least favourite traits—her incapability to take anything seriously. "Not your business. Besides, seven nights, remember?"

Yes. Seven nights. This is what she told you, another expiry date on another chapter of whatever the fuck this is between you. Another unspoken contract was signed for the hell of it. A time limit, for something that isn't even real.

"Just think about it," you continue, hopelessly, "talking with your family. It'll clear your mind."

"Know what clears my mind? The wind in my hair, sun on my skin, music in my ears," Youngeun runs her hand through her silky hair, "Landing in some new town, finding a new local hang out to try something exotic and then exploring whatever is hidden in that town's history, picking up a new person, hooking up with them, letting the excitement course through my veins, knowing there's always something else waiting on the horizon."

Another insufferable thing that she does. It's been maybe fifteen minutes since you tangled limbs in the bed and now she's standing across the room naked making no secret of the fact that she picks up guys and girls wherever she goes. Youngeun looks down at you on the mattress and runs her eyes up and down your body, her fingers resting lightly over her collarbone.

You follow the line of her fingers, nails cut short with traces of peeled black nail paint. A callus on her finger is a reminder of how often she played the guitar. She runs them down her chest, thumb catching a nipple in the process of doing so.

"Look at you. You get hotter every time I come back." And just like that, Youngeun drops a compliment, casual and effortless and you question who's benefiting from this relationship because it clearly isn't you.

You're gonna fuck her again tonight. Tomorrow too, and another three nights after that. After which she'll be gone for another six months to a year. There's a weird emotional emptiness to this routine—you give and she takes and this is all she asks.

"Come here, will you? Pin me to this wall already. Make me feel you." Her hand cups her breast and another traces its way down her abs, a clear intention.

You should hate her, really. Like how you hate the idea that she left home for no reason or how she wasted her potential, hate her for her indifference, for her recklessness and her cold detachment, or hate the fact that it's just meaningless sex. 

She doesn't like strings, it makes no sense to her how people commit. If she was the type of person who asked to be understood, you would probably try to, but that's never something she ever expressed. 

For all of that, you don't hate her. It's why you're still walking towards her and she's backing up into the wall.

So, what does she ask for? Her answer is pleasure and pain.

She kisses like a raging fire. Everywhere her hands roam leaves marks on your skin; she scratches deep in your back as you hook her thigh up around your waist. A hand between her legs, sliding in without any sort of preamble. She's still dripping wet, though some of that may well be your last load. She tastes of salty, sweaty sex and you relish it. She kisses and she gasps as your fingers work at her entrance; crooking them upward so you can press them into her and rub right against the sensitive spot inside her.

Her tongue slides past yours, hot and wet as she grinds up into your hand, claws digging into your lower back. Your hand fucks into her roughly with reckless abandon and her breathing gets shallow as your fingers bring her closer and closer.

It doesn't take long, she's close, you know that when she throws her head back against the wall. "Stop—wait, fuck—wait," Youngeun barely gasps and then with your name in her throat, the friction of your fingers sends her over the edge. A moan escapes as her mouth falls open, eyes clamp shut as you finger her to orgasm.

It's always been easy to make Youngeun cum, but it never loses its magic. There's something particularly thrilling to the way she moans your name in that honey-laced rasp, to the way her entire body arches upwards as the pleasure mounts. A sharp gasp cuts the air.

Her limbs slacken. She leans her head against the wall. She's struggling to catch her breath.

And this is the fucking problem. For every reason to hate her, there are so many more reasons to enjoy her.

That's when you lift her, hooking up the other thigh and holding her by her tight little ass. Youngeun hisses and she's staring daggers and that's always a part of the fun. She'll give you these looks that could kill a lesser man, but you know the only solution is to pound her into submission.

"Be rough with me. Hard," Youngeun pants, sucking air in, breath ragged. Her skin's hot to the touch.

"Like last time?" Your voice comes low, thick and gruff as you hook her legs higher.

"No, harder, faster," Youngeun replies between rapid, short breaths, she grips your arms, rolls her hips and wraps her body tighter around you, "Want me to stay? Fuck me until I can't walk out."

You're incensed and sliding your length over her slick, warm, inviting heat, before slamming her back into the wall, entering her in one long hard motion and enjoying the way her lips fall apart; enjoying the way her hot and messy, fucked-out body arches upward as you hit deeper and the way her cries pitch. You don't even wait for her to catch her breath before snapping your hips over and over and giving Youngeun exactly the type of pounding that she wants.

There's a sharp gasp. A second of silence and then a choked-back scream. You feel a palm on the nape of your neck and a sting on your shoulders as her nails dig deep and scratch. She rakes them over the broad expanse of your upper back and it fucking hurts. It fucking stings and it's delicious. You bury yourself deep inside her, stretch and fuck her all open on your dick.

"Like that. Yes! Like that! Fucking ruin me."

"Since you asked so nicely."

Her moans become a struggle now that you've run a hand roughly up her body and planted it around her neck. Squeezing, not too hard, not to cut her airflow, not to bruise, but firmly enough that she will feel it and feel that she is being held. She loves to feel hopeless. And there, that's what you like: her hot, sweaty body locked between you and the wall and helpless against you as you sink into her.

And as much as she says it doesn't mean anything. Youngeun cries out your name like it means something.

The ever-familiar suffocating grip of her wet cunt grips you as she cums again. Bodies flushed together, grinding and sweaty.

"I can't breathe—" Youngeun whimpers in that cracked, vulnerable and submissive way and you snarl. Fuck her up as promised. Hurt her like she begs for. And Youngeun loves it like nothing else, absolutely nothing, her eyes rolling to the back of her head and a strangled groan as you reach another climax and fill up her pussy again. You pound yet another load into her tight hole.

As much as she would hate to ever admit it, this is as close to a home as she has in her life.

[singmyaubade]

in love with my bullies

warning: mentions of smut : throatfucking, p in v bullying, and cursing

sypnosis : the marauders bullied you, tortured you. what will happen when you finally stick up for yourself?

dark!poly!marauders x female!reader

pacing is horrible in this story, ik but i was writing it while listening to music LMAO. did not proofread btw..

once again, here you were.

washing green slime gunk out of your hair in the abandoned bathrooms due to another marauders prank that was only towards you.

somehow their pranks always involved washing something out.

you tried your best to not be bothered or even show any sign of disdain in your face but this had really pissed you off.

it was relentless.

everyday, every hour, every minute, every second. the marauders would continue to bully you for no reason other than you being a slytherin.

but you would think that since there are so many slytherins, you wouldn't be top pick. you were quiet, kept to yourself, and never tried to go noticed in a huge crowd.

yet all the marauders did was pick you out and torture you.

the only one that showed you mercy was peter, he usually hung out with his girlfriend and never paid you much attention.

you thought it would be remus since he had a reputation for being mature and kind-hearted but even he showed you no mercy.

it's not like you could ask for any help, you didn't have a lot of friends that could help and even though you were a pureblood, the pureblood slytherins didn't accept you because of you family not helping the dark lord.

it wasn't easy.

and even though you tried to reason with them, they refused due to the fact you believed in 'blood supremacy' and you thought muggles 'deserved hell' which was complete rumors and you didn't believe that at all.

and now it was time to go back to class and the slimy substance had yet to disappear on your head. you then tried several spells in order to get it out of your hair and one had worked, getting whatever you couldn't.

you performed a drying spell before exiting out of the bathroom. you stepped out to see three out of the four marauders laying on the left of the wall with a smirk embroided on their face.

you scoffed, trying to move elsewhere.

"was that a scoff i heard?" james asked, stepping towards you with intimidation.

you never tried to look scared but you could tell it was painted all over your face.

"just let me go." you said, whimpering a little.

"aww," sirius stood in front of you, "are you gonna cry?" he asked, mocking you.

"i think she is." james replied in the same tone.

you looked over to remus who was looking at the entire situation with a look of entertainment and interest.

"fuck you." you spat, stepping face to face with james.

"don't say something you'll regret." he responded in a dark tone as you moved to step backwards but sirius was suddenly behind you.

you tried to carry a strong look on your face but they could tell you were easily intimidated.

"if you wanna go so bad," remus stood off of the wall and toward you, "all you have to say is please." his pointer finger holding up your chin.

you knew you wouldn't be able to move without doing as he asked.

"please," you whispered, locking in his eye contact, eyes watering.

"please what?" remus asked.

"please let me go." you said.

"good girl," he complimented, "that's all you had to say."

"you just have to be good, bunny." sirius whispered in your ear, feeling his hot breath down your neck, hand holding your waist.

in this moment, you were glad this was an abandoned hallway.

the worst part was, you wanted sirius to touch you more, aching for relief in your core.

you couldn't stop the butterflies in your belly nor the vibration in your entire body, it was as if you could feel all of your sense ten times more especially in your cunt.

your eyes were even getting blurry as if you were stuck in a trance.

you suddenly snapped back to reality to realize there was nobody around you, remus's eye contact, sirius's hand on your shoulder and james's stern tone, all gone.

it was all as if you had imagined it and the only thing that argued with that was the vibration throughout your body.

you had decided to take the rest of the day off, going to your dorm.

you entered your dorm to see your best friend, riley.

"i looked for you everywhere!" riley yelled, hugging you, "i gave them each a piece of my mind before i went to look for you." she looked into your eyes.

"it's fine riles, you know they are assholes." you said, half smiling.

"i'll kill them if you want me to, seriously," she said, knowing she wasn't joking.

you laughed it off, going to fix your bed.

"soooo," riley said, "there's a party tonight."

"where?" you asked.

a moment passed, "gryffindor."

you rolled your eyes, "no."

"cmon y/n!" she sat on your bed, "you can not let your fear of the marauders stop you from going to a party?"

"that's not it!" you said, still fluffing your pillow, "slytherin's aren't allowed at gryffindor parties."

"im pretty sure that rule only applies to the malfoys, dolohovs, blacks, and every dark lord supporter," riley said.

"they still hate me." you replied.

"only the marauders," she convinced.

"and they run that house," you argued.

"no they don't, most people think they are irritating." riley said factually.

"please don't make me go." you groaned.

"for me, please." riley pouted.

"don't do the puppy dog eyes," you groaned as she continued doing it, "fine, i'll go." you said, riley yelling excitingly and smothering you.

"can i still wear this?" you asked through her screaming.

she stopped and looked at you in disappointment, "y/n, i know i am not best friends with a vulture."

you giggled as riley went to her closet and picked out a red dress that was a little too short for your liking.

"this will hug your shape perfectly!" riley squeaked and went inside the bathroom before you could even give a response.

after a couple hours, you and riley were both finally done getting ready. she looked at you in total shock, "y/n, you look so fucking hot right now. and i mean that in the gayest way possible." her mouth open.

your entire face turned blush pink, "not too bad yourself riley." you laughed.

"let's go." riley suddenly rushed, grabbing your hand, practically dragging you to the gryffindor common room.

you couldn't hear anything from outside but you guessed it was a silencing charm.

you heard riley mutter the password before the dark opened and you saw students from each house having the time of their lives and the music was outrageously blasting.

riley grabbed your hand, dragging you through as the door closed.

you looked around to see if you could spot any of the marauders, only finding peter dancing with his girlfriend.

it was like you were a bunny in a room with foxes that you couldn't distinguish.

"let's dance!" riley shouted, making you look at her.

you shook your head but riley rolled her eyes and dragged you on the dance floor.

she started dancing but it's like she could feel your awkwardness as she grabbed your hips, moving your body with hers to the rythym.

eventually, you decided to just let go and try to enjoy yourself.

after about two or three songs, you had told riley that you were going to get a drink and asked if she wanted any but she was already making out with a hufflepuff girl and only swatted her hand.

you laughed, moving over to the drinks table.

you poured yourself some firewhisky when you felt someone roughly grab your wrist.

you turned around to see three of the marauders with james having a hold of your wrist to which you scoffed, yanking your wrist back.

"can you guys seriously fuck off for one night?" you sighed.

"have you forgotten yourself?" remus genuinely asked.

this was the night to stick up for yourself.

"have you?" you argued, "you all are fucking pathetic," you laughed humorlessly to which you could feel their anger radiating onto you, "i pray for the poor bastards who end up being your children if you all can even have any when your too busy sucking eachothers cocks," you insulted, "but if you don't me, i am going to go bed because you have unfortunately ruined this party for me." you shoved past them harshly, leaving the common room.

adrenaline was bouncing off of you, a new high you had never felt before. you were even partly turned on by the whole encounter.

you were even surprised they had let you pass

you speedwalked through the hallway in victory, you felt like you had finally won, that you had finally got a one up off of them.

you had yet to realize that the hallways were dark with a little bit of moonlight pouring through and you couldn't navigate your way due to you leaving your wand in your dorm.

you went to turn back to the common room but bumped into a hard surface to which you looked up to see remus lupin.

your heart skipped a beat as he roughly put his hand around your neck, shoving you into a wall. he was squeezing not enough for you to go unconcious but enough for you to not be able to take full breaths.

"what happened to your voice sweetheart?" he said as you croaked, "what happened to that dirty mouth?" you tried slapping off his hand but he only pushed you further into the wall.

you looked to both of your sides to see james and sirius.

"what do you think boys?" remus asked, "think she deserves to be punished?"

your eyes opened wider as you tried to make a sound but it came out in little squeaks.

"i think she does moony, i think we have given her too much freedom." sirius responded.

"yeah, i think we might have to fuck her into obedience." james said, inching closer.

even you couldn't stop the wet patch in your panties.

"i think that's what she wants, i mean let me check." remus said as confusion painted your face.

you felt him raise your dress up, hand now in your panties as you moaned.

"she's soaking wet," remus scoffed, "turns out to be a little slut after all."

you felt remus start rubbing your clit as you moaned more, his grip on your neck never softening.

you and remus staring at each other as james whispered something in his ear and he nodded.

he suddenly took his hand out of your panties, your entirety angry at his lack of letting you release.

he put your hands behind your back, leading you somewhere you couldn't figure out. there was a haze in your eyes that made it impossible for you to see a thing.

you heard a door close as you looked around, it was james's prefect dorm.

before you could grasp onto your reality, james put his mouth onto yours, bruising your lips as you moaned into his mouth.

you tried catching your breath but james was relentless, not letting you go.

you could feel sirius behind you, sucking hickeys onto your neck, knowing it would leave spots.

you couldn't even spot remus in the room due to all of the pleasure you felt.

sirius was unzipping your dress, letting it fall onto the ground. james was working your bra, letting it fall to the ground as he nibbled on your nipple.

sirius pulled your panties down, lifting your legs out of them.

suddenly, they both stopped touching you which made you whimper.

"on your knees bunny." sirius instructed as you obeyed almost immediately.

remus came into view, stepping in front of you.

"are you gonna suck my cock nice bunny?" remus asked, tipping your head up to look at him using his pointer finger.

you nodded immediately.

"good girl." he complimented which sent you into orbit.

he stroked his cock in his pants, bringing it out. his cock sprung up out of his boxers, pre-cum leaking off of his tip.

you licked stripes onto his tip causing him to groan.

"don't tease bunny." he moaned which caused you took his entirety into your mouth, gagging. he ponytailed your hair from going into your face using his hand.

you were still looking up at him as he threw his head back in pleasure, "so fucking good bunny," he praised you which sent tingles in your cunt, "sucks cock like a fucking champ,"

you looked over to see james and sirius jerking off to the sight in front of them.

before he could come, remus pulled you off of his cock, standing you up.

he took off his boxers fully, laying on the bed, reaching for you to climb on top of him.

you put your knees on the side of his hips as he stroked himself a bit and aligned himself up to your cunt.

you sank down on his cock with a moan, trying to fully adjust yourself. both of his hands were on your hips, speeding you up slowly.

you felt a mouth on your neck, sucking. the pleasure hitting you rapidly.

suddenly, remus pulled your head down to kiss you, his hand gripped on your neck while roughly fucking you.

you felt someone prodding into your ass before slipping inside. you moaned loudly into remus's mouth.

"bunny, don't tense." james said and you knew he was the one prodding. he went slowly but every time he went in, you sank down on remus's cock which made immediate pleasure shoot inside of you.

"you feel so fucking good," remus complimented, sucking harsh bruises onto your skin.

"so fucking good." james murmured.

both of their words praising you made you almost come on sight.

you were so cock drunk, babbling about how close you were. your eyes were watering due to the amount of pleasure you were receiving.

what made you crazier was sirius putting your mouth on his cock, throat fucking you while your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

your spit dribbling off of your chin as tears rained on your cheeks.

remus sucked on your nipple as your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

their words muffled in your eyes.

remus and james had both cum inside of you which caused your first orgasm, moaning loudly, barely able to see due to the pleasure you were recieving.

sirius pulled out of your mouth as you gasped for air, throat being a bit hoarse.

james pulled out of you, delivering a kiss to your neck as a thank you.

your chest dropped to remus's chest as he pet your hair and praised you, "come one more time for me bunny?"

you babbled something while nodding your head which gave sirius permission to slide into your ass.

remus continued holding your head, eyes on his, admiring you.

"i love you bunny." he said before kissing you but this time more softly and delicately.

remus didn't give you the choice whether to say it back or not but you didn't know if he was being genuine or not.

sirius continued pounding into you but you were only able to whimper based on how cock drunk you were.

he praised you, telling you how good you were while remus massaged your puffy clit.

sirius came soon with you as your entire body felt exhausted. remus pulled you off of him as james grabbed a wet towel and wiped your legs and mouth. you winced as he brushed your clit, being hyper sensitive.

remus laid you down into james's bed, putting the blanket over you, kissing your head as you closed your eyes.

you didn't know what you were sure,

that you were in love with your bullies.

[k-hotchoisan]

OKAY OKAY OKAY BUT YUNHO GRIPPING YOUR HIPS (I’m a thicker girl so I got thick hips let me live) PRAISING YOUR CURVES BUT BUT BUT ALSO MUTTERING MINE AND JUST BEING SUPER POSSESIVE AND SLIGHTLY DEGRADING and maybe tells you to open your mouth so he can 🗣️💦 (only if you’re comfy with that) BECAUSE SOMEONE KEPT BOTHERING YOU AND OOGLING IVER YIU AND YIU DIDNT GET IT AND WERE SO INNOCENT AND LET IT HAPPENED…..I’m not thinking about that at all. 😫

Alright, enough of San for now, I know some of y’all hotteoks are hungry for some Yuyu so I’m serving it on silver platter for you guys 🥳😛🩷

As always, enjoy! 🩷

golden retriever

<Yunho x fem!reader>

Synopsis: “Do you get jealous?” You ask your partner one day. Well, you were about to find out.

Genre/warnings: dom & possessive!Yunho, dirty talk, slight degradation, oral (m & f receive), unprotected sex, cumming on face, cum eating, orgasms

Taglist:

@bro-atz @diamond-3 @mcarebearsstuff @choisansplushie @pre1ttyies @hwallazia @songmingisthighs

Golden Retriever.

That’s what everyone seems to associate Yunho as—loyal, considerate, funny and especially so loving. You felt it first hand, even before the both of you officially started dating—him constantly making sure you were comfortable in a room full of mostly men (his friends).

And when the both of you became official, he let you do whatever you wanted—mostly with his arms constantly around you, and you chalking it off as him being clingy. Well, he is known well to be very affectionate, not that you were complaining, and he doesn’t get upset easily, at least, that’s what it seemed.

He was definitely a giver, and he’d cross over the fucking oceans to make sure you were content.

People have different sides to them, that was a fact you knew clear as day. But such a soft person like Yunho, definitely had another side to him right?

“Do you get jealous?” You ask out of the blue. Yunho blinks at your question, wondering what to even reply to that.

You’ve asked all his friends, and they were all pretty adamant that he’s not a jealous lover. It still did not deter you from poking the bear.

And you definitely got your answer when his demeanour completely changes at the sight of another fuckin male trying to talk to you. It started off as ogling your body from a distance. At first Yunho brushes it off—he’s being held hostage by Mingi at the moment near the bar. He doesn’t shift when the male strikes up a conversation.

Yunho simply watches you attempt to entertain this sorry excuse of a person.

And he slams the glass whiskey glass (god knows how it didn’t break) when he notices the way the male is brushing his fingers on your shoulder, and Mingi only surprises a smirk as he watches your boyfriend intercept the failure of an interaction this male tried to initiate.

You jolt slightly at Yunho’s sudden touch on your waist but for some fuck ass reason, introduce the male to Yunho, who apparently was your friend. Yunho barely keeps his face poker, forcing smiles while the male who Yunho does not even bother remembering his name continues to yaps his fucking head off.

Yunho’s annoyed. And he’s never really felt annoyed often.

The fact that you’re completely oblivious to it all makes all the more astounding, especially when your friend had almost touched your arm up while he was laughing away, and Yunho’s arms wrapped around you in the guise of pulling you away, which you thought was nothing more than just a gesture of affection from Yunho.

Half way through his yapping, Yunho, at the peak of his irritation cuts him off, telling you that he has to rush back for an important show he’s catch up on. A blatant lie that you or your friend never caught on.

Oh, but you soon do, when you reach home with Yunho and he has you carried bridal style right into the fucking bedroom.

Yunho has you sprawled on the bed, his fingers wasting no time to tug your bottoms off—including your panties. He’s in a rush to strip you bare for him. Your breathing is jagged despite you trying to calm yourself. Yunho’s lips are burning against your skin as he trails his lips from your sternum till he reaches your hips.

“Pretty curves. So perfect for me”, he murmurs, pressing soft kisses against your skin after every word that leaves his lips. Gasps escape your lips every time you feel him suck against your skin, leaving pretty love bites to bloom in his wake.

“Yu-“, you try, but you’re immediately cut off when he plants another hickey on your hips, a soft groan replacing what you wanted to say.

“Do I get jealous?” He asks rhetorically, crawling over to face you from above. He scoffs as he sinks his fingers into your mouth, swallowing hard when you take his fingers, licking and sucking with a glazed out expression. “What do you think?”

You’re barely in the right mind to process his question, even when he pulls his finger out of your mouth, and especially when he trails his soaked fingers right to your pulsating cunt, rubbing your clit in slow circles.

You grasp at any remaining sanity that remains, your mind swimming in the depths pleasure, ready to just plunge in any moment.

“N-no”, you answer, completely entranced by the way Yunho is staring right into you, lust dripping in his gaze, before your body jolts in pure bliss when he stuffs you two fingers full, your arms immediately wrapping around his neck.

“Not wrong, babe”, he smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes entirely.

“But I fucking hate it when people touch what belongs to me.”

There is a haze that’s clouding over your mind when he begins slowly pumping his long fingers in and out of you, the squelching sounds exposing how much of a dripping mess you are. You try to focus on his words, but barely anything is going through.

“And do you know what belongs to me?” He asks you again, his fingers now completely pulled out of you, leaving your cunt fluttering uselessly in the air. You feel like your heart is at your throat, threatening to jump out from the anticipation. You’ve never seen Yunho like this before, and it’s sending electricity through your spine, you feel goosebumps litter across your skin.

You choke on sob, your turn to swallow hard this time.

“Me?”

Yunho’s smile spreads across his face again, oddly calming, holding anything but hints of gentleness.

He’s not planning to let you go tonight.

He’s not planning to let you sleep tonight.

“Smart girl”, he hums, soothing his hands across your thighs, spreading them open, barely giving you any time to process before his cock pushes into your hole, fitting in all the way through despite his size. “But not smart enough to ask your little friend to fuck right off.”

Your mind blanks out, your breathing deepens in an attempt to accommodate his fucking cock that suddenly slid into you, another hard swallow as your thighs shake, and soft whimpers escape you. Yunho finds it all the more endearing watching you slowly fall apart right in front of him like this.

His good boy golden retriever personality is far from a facade, but there’s a sore spot in him that he does his best to ignore. And he does it well.

At least, up until now.

“And you’d best remember that, babe”, Yunho grunts, his thumb sinking into the corner of your lips, watching your eyes roll back as he snaps his hips against yours, making sure you feel the entirety of his cock filling you up to the brim, the sounds growing wetter by the second.

“-big”, you mutter, your body fighting against the pleasure, your eyelids barely holding up. His fingers press against the sides of your cheeks as he tilts your head to face him, your eyes watering slightly as you hear Yunho’s voice lulling you back.

“What was that?”

You don’t even hesitate, only feeling your thighs twitch whenever he slides his cock into you again, letting your words leave your mouth without even bothering to filter.

“You’re so fucking big. It’s so much. Fuck.”

Something in Yunho shifts, and he slows down in you, his cock decorated with glistening sheens of precum and cream when he pulls all the way out. You gasp at how empty you feel, about to whine at Yunho and your promptly shut up when his face is right at your soaked pussy, lapping you up from your hole all the way up to your clit.

Your hands immediately tug on his hair. Yunho’s gaze is eyeing you down—watch your reactions as he slowly brings you off the edge. His cock can’t take it—he’s rutting against the sheets and staining them with his thick precum, but he still continues to flick his tongue against your clit, making sure your arching your back in pure bliss.

“That’s it, remember who’s in between your legs, fucking you with his tongue”, his voice vibrates through your pussy.

“Yunho, fuck-, wait, I’m gonna cum-”, you gasp, your orgasm being dangled right before you, creeping into your body. Yunho doesn’t relent, for the first few seconds, and you’re sent off the edge, your toes curling when the sensation hits your pussy, and then your empty, pulsating pussy is filled up all the way by Yunho’s thick cock in seconds.

All while you were being engulfed by your orgasm.

That’s when you realise it—he’s gonna send you to the fucking stars—his cock in you while you were cumming amplifies the amount of stars you see splattered in your eyelids, and he doesn’t give you a chance to cry about being overstimulated, because his hand has your throat in a chokehold while he makes sure he fucks you while you ride your orgasm out.

He never once breaks eye contact with you throughout the process, enjoying the feeling of your cunt just clamping down onto him while he fucks you full. Fuckin hell.

“That’s a good girl. See, it isn’t so hard to be well-behaved, isn’t it?” Yunho hums, his voice still low and husky, biting back the pleasure he’s feeling. You don’t answer—only soft hiccups as your eyes continue to water, but the sounds of your wet, sopping pussy does.

Yunho’s lips engulfs yours, prying your parted lips to open further, and you taste yourself in him, moans muffled when he pins your wrists above you, snapping his hips against yours with raw desire.

“You’re gonna behave and take this load”, he whispers when his lips leave yours, wet with spit. You nod frantically, already surrendering yourself to him. He pulls out of you with a wet sound following, before his cock is facing you, letting you watch him fuck his hand.

A string of curses tied with your name leaves Yunho’s lips when he ruts before jerking slightly, then spurts of white decorate your pretty face, and you stare up at him, cum dripping down your chin, as your tongue sticks out. Yunho only takes it as an invitation to collide his lips against yours, satisfied that he’s tasting himself on you.

“Fuck. Can’t get enough. Need more”, he hisses before his lips are your neck again, littering his marks all over your sensitive skin as he pushes you down back onto the mattress to spread your legs open, giving your clit light taps as his half hard cock slides right back into your abused cunt, and you return the favour with marks down his back.

“Yu-ah! It’s too much”, you pant, your tears fully streaking down your temples when you feel him completely growing fully hard in you.

“Don’t worry, babe. I’ll definitely show you what’s too much.”

[luvjunie]

miles “i got it” morales earth 42 miles 591 words

Between the both of you, Miles is always the first to stand up when the bell rings at the end of class. With all the textbooks you bring to school, he knows your backpack is just one mechanical pencil away from hitting a ton and for that reason he never lets you carry it yourself. In fact, he makes it his mission to pick it up before you do. With his own backpack on one shoulder, he’ll watch for the exact moment you’re done tucking your supplies away just to interrupt you as you’re mid-reach so he can scoop it up into his free hand by the top handle.

“I got it.”

Miles always pays for you guys’ dates. You knew this wasn’t abnormal when it came to relationships, seeing as he’s the guy, you’re the girl, and that’s just the ‘societal norm’ or whatever. It’s how your dad told you a male should treat the girl he’s with, and based off how Miles acts, you assumed his own father had given him the same speech as well before he passed. But even when you two take a stroll to the corner store to pick up some cheap snacks for a study session—the total coming out to as little as $4.37 for some sunchips and sour gummy worms—he still won’t let you pay.

He’s already getting his wallet out before the cashier can read the total off. And when you try and protest, he’s all—

“I got it.”

When your laces have come undone and you hadn’t noticed.

“Ma, your shoe’s untied.”

You’ll stop in your tracks and look down at your loosened laces, prepared to hand your phone off to him so you can bend down to tie them, and like always—

“I got it.”

When the pizza you ordered an hour ago finally shows up at the door and you get the ‘arrived’ notification on your phone—which he’s already seen because he’s always looking over your shoulder as you scroll your time away on tiktok, watching them with you as an excuse to be all up on you—you can bet your life on what his response will be.

“I got it.”

You knew he only wanted to be a gentleman, but at this point, you were convinced ‘I got it’ was his middle name instead of Gonzalo.

For a while now, Miles has felt like he has to take responsibility and do everything even when something isn’t asked of him, and you wanted him to know that same sentiment didn’t have to apply to the two of you. So you started trying to beat him at his own game.

Brushing past him and rushing down the concrete steps of his apartment building to make it to the passenger side door and open it for yourself before he can.

Keeping your backpack on the opposite side of your desk so you can have the chance to pick it up before him, even if it earns you a subtle glare each time. And while some days it really is too heavy for you to carry—heavy enough to make you question exactly what point you’re trying to prove here—you remain determined.

Having cash ready and smacking it down on the peeling countertop of the bodega before your snacks have even been rung up, and regardless of how insane you look and how the clerk squeezes his face at you to confirm that, the triumphant grin you give Miles (who’s struggling to contain a smile of his own) doesn’t falter.

“I got it.”

[yikes-aemond]

Hello!!!! How are you? Are you willing to do a Benjicot X Tully!Reader oneshot?

Benji being a little puppy in love with a serious, blunt, very introverted and book-loving Tully, since they were children, and that is the reason why he often bothered her. Tully! Reader has a habit of throwing things at his head when she loses her patience.

Many hugs 💖💖💖🤗🤗🤗

You can hear it in the silence.

pairing: Benjicot Blackwood (fancast!Kieran Burton) x Tully!fem!reader (no physical descriptions of reader)

warnings: none, pure fluff

summary: You and Benjicot Blackwood meet as children and proceed to hate each other for years. Until one day, you didn't.

word count: 3.1k 

author note: Thank you so much for the request! I’m sorry it took me a little while to complete it, but I hope I did your story idea justice. I’m hesitant to say this because I should be working on the next part of “I love you. It’s ruining my life.” but I have an idea for a part 2 to this story, so let me know if there is interest! Love you babes. Happy reading! 

On your tenth name day, Benjicot Blackwood put a frog in your bed.

First light had not yet broken. You floated in that hazy space, not quite dreaming and not quite awake, content to stay beneath the warmth of your covers. 

You had stayed up too late the night before. After stealing a half dozen honey cakes from the kitchens, you had wandered to the library, seeking comfort from the rows upon rows of books until the hour of the wolf ushered in your name day. 

You did not recall how you made it from the library to your bed. Your father most likely. 

Lord Elmo Tully was prone to sleepless nights, and often took to walking Riverrun at night to ease his troubles. On more than one occasion, he had found you face down on a study table, cheek pressed into the page of a book, after spending too many hours lost in tales of knights and princesses and children of the forest. And each time he found you, he would pick you up gently, careful not to wake you, and carry you back to bed.

Elmo Tully was not always the most present father. But he did not discourage your preferences for reading over needlework. He defended you when the Septa scolded you for ink-stained hands and unkempt dresses. And he did not try to force friendship between you and the other ladies your age.

You would not call yourself a lonely child. Although you often kept your own company, you did not mind the solitude, did not mind the quiet and peace compared to the noise and chatter that often accompanied children your own age. Sure, there were those in Riverrun who called you strange when they thought you and the rest of the Tullys were out of earshot, never daring to speak too loudly when your grandfather was the Lord Paramount. 

Not that the whispers bothered you. As long as you had books and honey cakes, you were happy to be alone. 

A fact that you were rudely reminded of when you rolled over in bed on the morning of your tenth name day, seeking out the touch of your favorite doll. But instead of feeling the soft, plush doll, you felt something slimy and cold and wet. And then you heard a distinct croak. 

Screaming, you leapt out of bed, sheets twisting around your body. Frantic to get away from whatever creature had scurried into your bed. You landed on the floor with a harsh thud. From your vantage on the floor, you saw a frog leap from your bed toward the window on the far side of the room.

Frogs were not an uncommon sight at Riverrun. After all, your home was surrounded on all sides by rivers and moats and marshland. But never in your life had you heard of a frog sneaking into someone’s bed. 

Only when you heard laughter on the other side of your chambers’ door did you realize what had happened. 

You cheeks flashed hot as you picked yourself up off the floor. Seeing red, you threw the door open, a glare so disapproving on your face that it would have turned a lesser man to stone. 

But not the idiots who stood before you. 

Your brothers, Oscar and Kermit, were clutching onto each other, eyes nearly in tears from the force of their laughter. You would have words with them later. You knew the real culprit behind the prank. 

Leaning against the wall with an insufferable smirk on his face was Benjicot Blackwood. Heir to Raventree Hall, your brothers’ best friend, and the bane of your existence. 

“Something amiss, my lady?” He had the audacity to ask. 

At the age of two and ten, Benjicot was tall for his age. He had not quite grown into himself, all long limbs and sharp angles. Despite his prowess with a dagger and sword, he had not yet matured out of his love for boyish pranks. 

And he especially loved tormenting you.

Benjicot had no younger siblings. His aunt Alysanne was the closest relative to his age, but she had little patience for Benjicot, preferring her bow to most people. A sentiment you shared. 

You first met Benjicot when you were seven, and he was nine. For the last three years, Benjicot had spent a few weeks in the high summer months as a ward at Riverrun, training and sparring and hunting with your brothers. The three were thick as thieves—Oscar and Kermit had loved Benjicot instantly. All close in age, all young and eager to prove themselves.

You had never been close with your brothers. You had little in common with them. But when Benjicot came to stay, and when you watched them laugh and joke and share secrets, you felt that sharp pang of otherness. Felt the sting of always being on the outside, both from your own family and the rest of those who resided at Riverrun. 

And now he had dared to pull a prank on you on your name day. 

“The only thing amiss is your presence here, Blackwood. Were you not supposed to return to Raventree Hall yesterday?” 

Benjicot shrugged. “I wouldn't dream of missing your name day.” 

You wanted to launch yourself at him, tackle him to the ground and remove that insufferable smirk from his face. You resisted the urge, but just barely. 

“The best name day present you could have given me would have been your absence.” You sneered. 

Huffing a laugh, Benjicot straightened and grabbed your brothers by the shoulder, nudging them away from your chambers. “Sorry to disappoint. I had rather hoped you would have liked the frog.” 

Turning away from you and following your brothers, Benjicot called out over his shoulder, "Perhaps you should have kissed the frog, my lady. Could have turned it into a prince like in all those fairytales you love so much.” 

You clenched your fists and tried to think of clever response. But nothing came to mind, so you settled for slamming your door closed. You could still hear the echo of their laughter in the hallway. 

Back against the door, cheeks hot and flushed, you slid to the floor and wrapped your arms around your legs, bringing your knees to your chest. 

It was not the first time Benjicot Blackwood made you cry. 

No matter how hard you tried to ignore Benjicot during his yearly visits, you were never successful in escaping him. Every year he managed to find you, tease you, get under your skin and stay there. 

There was the year he hid rotting fish in the floor boards of your chambers. The smell was so unbearable that you had to move rooms. 

Or the time he startled you when you were helping a kitchen maid carry a sack of flour, sending the sack flying and leaving you looking like a ghost. 

Passing you the salt instead of sugar for your tea, causing you to spew tea all over the dining table at breakfast. 

Hiding your favorite books in the armory. (When you finally discovered the books, you chased Benjicot around the training yard, hurling the books at his head, much the amusement of your father and brothers.) 

Sending you on false errands on supposed orders from your father, resulting in you interrupting a meeting of the River lords that left you so embarrassed and humiliated that you refused to come out of your chambers for three days. 

Benjicot never went too far, never did anything so terrible as to warrant true ire from your father and grandfather. Each time you voiced your hatred for Benjicot and his pranks to them, begging them to send him back to Raventree Hall, they patted your head, said boys would be boys, and moved on. 

With each passing year, your tolerance for the pranks grew less and less. Even if you had come to expect them. 

So, on your fifteenth name day, you were not surprised when Benjicot sought you out in the library. 

You knew he had arrived for his stay earlier in the day. He was delayed in returning to Riverrun this year—a skirmish with the Brackens had resulted in weeks of tension and negotiations amongst the River lords. 

At seven and ten, Benjicot was nearly a man. He had grown into his height and filled out in his shoulders, lean and strong and, if rumors were to be believed, now lethal with a sword and dagger. 

Never backed down from a challenge. Fearless in a fight. Ruthless to those who crossed him. 

Your brothers, with all the cleverness in their heads, had nicknamed him Bloody Ben. 

You could not quite merge the two Benjicots in your mind—the boy from your childhood who teased and taunted but was quick to laugh and joke, with the man who had taken his first kill with a smile on his face. 

When Benjicot appeared before you, leaning over the table where you sat with your book, you were not sure what to make of him. 

Snatching the book from your hands, you watched as his eyes skimmed the first few lines on the page, before he smirked down at you. “A romance? I did not take you for a simpering romantic.” 

You rolled your eyes and grabbed the book back. “And I never took you for a deaf half-wit, Blackwood. I distinctly remember telling you at the last assize that I never wanted to see your face again.”

Last year’s assize had been rather uneventful. That is, until the closing feast when Benjicot had teased you relentlessly for reading a book at dinner that you felt compelled to throw the book at his head. Of course, you missed his head, instead hitting a poor servant who was tasked with carrying the roast pig, sending both the servant and pig to the floor. 

Your father and grandfather had been less than pleased. 

Benjicot looked at the ceiling to hide his amusement before glancing back at you. With a smile on his face, he said, “You wound me, my lady.”

You narrowed your eyes, shooting him a look of disbelief. “And you annoy me, my lord.” 

Rather than be put out by that insult, Benjicot looked delighted. He leaned a little closer into your space, so much so that you felt the hair on your arms stand to attention, your skin turning to gooseflesh at his proximity.

For as much as you hated Benjicot, hated the way he teased you, hated the way he sometimes made you feel like an outsider in your own family, he was one of the most handsome boys you had ever met.

Dark, wavy hair that never seemed controlled. Eyes that turned green in the sunlight. A small scar on his upper lip that somehow made him look distinguished. 

You hugged the book to your chest and tried not to fidget under his gaze. You exhaled slowly before asking, “Why are you here?” 

Benjicot held your eyes for another beat before breaking the contact and straightening to his full height. Reaching into the pouch fastened at his hip, he said, “I have a present for you.”

You leaned back in your chair and crossed your arms. “I have never much cared for your presents. They tend to crawl or smell.”

Laughing, Benjicot pulled a necklace out of the pouch. “You will be pleased to know this gift neither crawls nor smells.”

You were stunned to say the least, eyes wide and mouth parted in surprise. You probably looked like a fish, but you could not help it. 

The necklace was beautiful. A delicate, silver chain with two gemstones at the end. A mud-red ruby and a blue sapphire—the perfect representation of House Tully’s colors. Simple and elegant. You were at a loss for words, and you felt your cheeks flush at the gift. 

Your heart skipped a beat as Benjicot approached you. The smile he was giving you was one you had never seen before—warm and soft. All traces of teasing gone from his demeanor. 

He stopped just before you. Holding out the necklace for you to take, he asked, “Do you like it?”

You stood, heart hammering as you took the necklace from him. You turned the necklace over in your hands, admiring the detail in the braided chain and the quality of the stones. Your throat felt parched, but you managed to say, “It’s lovely.” 

You glanced back up at Benjicot to find his eyes already on you, face closer to yours than you remembered. “I’m glad you like it, my lady.”

You had never seen Benjicot like this. Had never seen him be this sweet or shy before. You were not even sure he was capable of being sweet. 

Of course, there were moments over the years when he had shown you kindness. He was not always playing the jester. 

When you had twisted your ankle while walking in the godswood, Benjicot had insisted on carrying you to the maester, even when you protested that you were fine and perfectly capable of walking on your own. 

When you had gotten sick with a fever two years ago, leaving you bedridden and delirious for weeks, Benjicot had brought you dozens of books from the library, anything to keep your mind sharp and spirit strong.

And when you had mentioned that your favorite sweet was honey cakes, Benjicot brought you a batch from the cooks at Raventree Hall, claiming that Raventree’s cakes were superior to all others. (They were.) 

You had never felt more aware of yourself than you did at this moment, standing before Benjicot. You were in uncharted territory. Heart thumping in your chest. Palms beginning to sweat. Cheeks warm and flushed. You were nervous. And you had never been nervous in front of Benjicot before. 

You smiled, small and shy and a little embarrassed. You did not know where you found the courage, and you could not hold his gaze, but you found yourself asking, “Will you put it on me?”

Benjicot’s smile widened, nodding eagerly as he took the necklace back, your hands brushing in the exchange. Only for a moment, but enough to send a small jolt through your arm. 

You turned, giving him your back so that he could not see how deeply you were affected by the brief touch.

But with your back to him, you did not see how Benjicot looked at you. Did not see the way his eyes softened and traced your form. Did not see how his own cheeks flushed. Did not see how he had to swallow his nerves as he gently moved your hair off the nape of your neck. 

You felt the cold press of the chain against your neck and chest, felt the warmth of Benjicot’s fingers as he fastened the clasp. His touch lingering perhaps a second or two longer than necessary. 

You turned before Benjicot had a chance to step back. Your chests nearly touching with how close the two of you stood.

You had never been this close to a boy before. Had never felt your breath mix with another. Eyes locked on each other, gazes searching. 

Benjicot slowly raised his hand, fingers leaving a feather-light touch against your cheek as he moved a lock of hair behind your ear. 

You watched as his eyes shifted down to your lips before returning to your eyes. There was a question in his gaze, one you were not sure you knew how to answer. 

You had read about kisses in books. Kisses shared between a knight and a fair maiden after a daring escape. Secret, daring kisses between two lovers caught on opposite sides of a war. Passionate kisses. Sweet kisses. Slow and deep, or fast and hot.

You had never been kissed before. Had never given much thought to who would claim your first kiss. You had assumed the kiss belonged to your future lord husband, as propriety demanded.

But in that moment, in the quiet of the library on your name day, you wanted to give that kiss to Benjicot.

Maybe somewhere in your heart, hidden and buried deep, you had pictured the kiss being with Benjicot all along. He could have easily been another brother to you, with his obnoxious pranks and teasing smiles.

Except that you never thought of him as a brother.

He was Benjicot Blackwood. Someone who was always there, even when you did not wish for him to be. Strong and dependable. A force to be reckoned with, one who demanded your attention and settled for nothing less. You could not imagine a world in which he did not exist in your life.

You licked your lips and slowly closed your eyes. 

Benjicot took your cheek into his hand, tilting your head slightly to the right. You felt his other hand pull at your waist, bringing the two of you even closer together. 

You knew what was about to happen. Knew that despite all the teasing and hostility and pranks, you were about to have your first kiss. You had never dreamed of this, never thought you would ever be in this position. But the moment felt right—

“Benjicot!” 

You had never moved so quickly. The two of you leapt apart, both breathing heavily as you turned to see Oscar and Kermit stick their heads into the doorway of the library. 

When they spotted the two of you, they smiled, completely oblivious to what they had interrupted. 

You had never hated your brothers more. 

“Come on, Benji!” Kermit shouted, gesturing for Benjicot to come join them. “Father wants to see you.” 

Benjicot nodded, and you watched as he transformed into his usual easygoing demeanor and started toward the door. But at the last moment, he seemed to change his mind.

Turning to you, his back to your brothers, Benjicot reached for your hand and brought it to his lips. A quick press of his lips to the back of your hand had you flushing red all over again. 

“Happy name day, my lady,” he whispered. 

And then he left.

You did not know how long you stood there, unmoving and still as a statue. At some point, you returned to the table, leafing through your book without comprehending a single word. More than once, you caught yourself reaching for the necklace, seeking confirmation that the gift was real, that the moment with Benjicot was real. 

You finally gave up on reading your book, moving to lean against the windowsill and watch the sun set over the training yard. 

You replayed the afternoon over and over in your mind. And the longer you sat with the knowledge that Benjicot wanted to kiss you, and perhaps more surprising, that you wanted to kiss him, the more you wished that your brothers had waited a few moments longer. 

Just before the last light faded and gave way to night, you spotted Benjicot walking across the training yard with your brothers trailing behind. You watched as Oscar gestured wildly, apparently recounting some unbelievable tale to Kermit and Benjicot. Even from a distance, you could see Kermit roll his eyes, exasperation clear on his features. You watched Kermit shove Oscar playfully, causing him to lose his balance and fall into the dirt. 

And while Kermit and Oscar continued to pick at each other and squabble, Benjicot’s gaze shifted to where you sat at the window. Any surprise he felt at finding you watching them quickly dissolved into a wide grin. Ignoring your brothers, Benjicot lifted his hand and waved. 

You answered his wave with one of your own. A soft, secret smile on your lips as you held his gaze. A thousand unspoken words between the two of you. 

A happy name day, indeed. 

final author note: I hope you enjoyed! Any feedback is greatly appreciated. (I think everyone in the taglist below asked to be tagged in all my Benjicot/Davos Blackwood fics, but if I'm wrong, please let me know!)

taglist:

@alifeinspiredd @crownofdecitreadingrespectfully @altaircc

@someblessedgal @devildelilah

[incognit0slut]

Dance with the devil

Spencer reassures Reader that sex toys are his ally rather than his enemy. Based on:

warning: 18+ explicit content—toys, edging, overstimulation, dacryphilia, and unprotected sex; words: 3.7k

a/n: fun fact, had this prompt for more than a month but I finished it in one day. Kind of rushed, so I don't know if it's any good, to be honest

MASTERLIST

“…you picked a dance with the devil and you lucked out…”

SPENCER WAS A GOOD BOY—she meant that in the most innocent, non-sexual way possible. Her boyfriend was the epitome of manners, a gentleman in every sense of the word. He was kind and considerate, and even when he might not be in the greatest mood, he still had a way of being thoughtful and respectful to his peers.

Yet beneath his angelic, good-boy behavior, she was certain there was a part of him possessed by the devil.

Like now, for instance, there was nothing angelic about the smile that tugged at the corners of his lips. It was a smile she had never seen before, a smile that seemed to hold a deeper meaning as if he had a certain agenda waiting to be carried out at the back of his head. His smile was so cunning that it was starting to unsettle her, and the more she stared at him, the more it looked eerie.

And the worst thing of it all, she was the reason he was acting this way. She was the reason why he abruptly stopped what he was about to say the moment he stepped into their shared bedroom. She was the reason why he was now standing by the door looking like he was about to commit something sinister.

Because right under the dim light of the room, his eyes were trained between her legs.

So this was what it felt like being caught red-handed doing something no one was supposed to see. Y/n had always made sure nobody knew this side of her, especially not her long-term and committed boyfriend who knew nothing of what she often did when he was traveling for work. He didn't know what went on each time she was alone without him, what she had to do to keep herself satisfied when he wasn't around.

Sudden waves of nerves coursed through her body as she felt her heart pounding wildly in her chest. It felt as if she was caught cheating. Well, if having a pink silicone vibrator nestled between her thighs was actually considered cheating. Maybe it was. Maybe not. But whatever it might be, the look on his face did not seem good.

"I-I can explain." She slowly sat up, her hand letting go of her precious toy while the other hand grabbed onto her shirt, fixing it slightly as it ruffled around her waist.

Her nervousness intensified as he slowly approached her. His steps were deliberate, and measured, but there was something disconcerting about the way he moved. A faint smile played upon his lips, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.

She swallowed hard, her throat suddenly dry, as he drew closer, and the sinister undertone of his expression became more clear. Her heart hammered in her chest, not knowing whether to interpret his smile as a friendly gesture or a warning sign. The room seemed to close in around them and the atmosphere grew thick with tension as he slowly climbed onto the bed, the bed sinking beneath his weight.

"Spence?"

He simply looked up at her but remained silent. His smile remained unchanged, a mask that concealed his true intentions. She desperately wished he would at least speak. She fidgeted uncomfortably, her nerves fraying at the edges as she waited for him to break the silence.

And then suddenly, and deliberately slow, she saw him picking up her vibrator which had laid forgotten by her feet. She could feel the warmth spreading along her cheeks as he examined it, turning it over his hand as if it were the most interesting thing he had ever seen in his entire life.

The tension in the room was almost unbearable as he finally broke the silence. She braced herself for his words, her pulse quickening, her nerves on edge. But what he said was far from what she had expected.

With an unsettling calmness, he uttered, "You know, I've always wondered what they looked like."

His unexpected words hung in the air. While she wasn't sure of his true intentions, it appeared that he wasn't expressing anger or displeasure, which was entirely different than how she had imagined him to react. "W-wait, you're not mad?"

"Because you use this? No," he admitted, still examining the long, pink device, intrigued by its shape as he studied the curved end. "But I am disappointed that you had to keep it a secret from me."

Her mind raced, searching for the right words to respond. "I didn't want to hurt your feelings." When he simply flashed a confused look, she explained, "Some men don't like it when their partner gets off using something else that isn't them."

"Let me guess. What you meant by some men, you meant your exes."

"A few of them, yes."

He smiled again. "Well, it's a good thing I'm not one of them then."

Her eyes glazed over him with uncertainty, her words coming out in a hesitant whisper. "So... you're not mad?"

His smile remained, though it seemed to shift subtly as he shook his head slowly. "No, not at all," he replied, his tone still calm and measured. "I'm more curious, actually."

Her brow furrowed in response. "Curious?"

"Mh-hmm." Then his eyes went back to the device, discovering a small button on the bottom. Curiosity got the better of him and he pressed it, his eyes widening slightly as it vibrated in his hand. He clicked on the upper button, his brows shooting upwards when the vibration intensified. "I didn't know it has a lot of settings."

Her cheeks burned with a deep flush. What was happening? Was he really finding her vibrator interesting? And when she thought things couldn't get worse, her stomach flipped when he turned it over again, the evidence of her arousal coating the end of her toy glistening under the light.

Dear god, couldn't the floor just open up and swallow her whole?

He then surprised her with his next words.

"Lay down for me."

His unexpected request took her completely off guard. Her eyes widened, her heart raced even faster, and her embarrassment transformed into sheer bewilderment.

"Lay down," he repeated, his voice sounding more firm and commanding.

His tone left her with little room for hesitation. She swallowed hard, her heart pounding in her chest, and she slowly lowered herself to the bed, her apprehension mounting with each passing moment.

Above her, Spencer fumbled with the buttons again, figuring out the mechanics of what they do, and when he was done figuring out how the toy worked, he powered it on to the lowest setting and looked at her expectantly. The tension in the room intensified to an almost unbearable level as she watched him push her knees apart.

"W-What are you doing?" She gasped, the cold air hitting her exposed skin.

"Continuing where you left off."

Then suddenly, and without warning, he pressed the vibrator directly to her clit. Her eyes rolled back in both shock and pleasure as a humiliatingly high-pitched squeal escaped out of her slack-jawed mouth.

It was set to the lowest vibration option, but she had been playing with herself before this. And now with Spencer doing the work, pressing her toy right against her already wet folds, she was already squirming beneath him. The buzzing became higher in pitch as he went up one set, and the sensation became too much to handle.

"This is fun," he whispered. His thumb briefly brushed over her clit, causing her to gasp, and he breathed out a quiet laugh before pressing the vibrator against her once more. The pleasure was starting to increase every time he moved the toy around her, rubbing it back and forth vertically in quick motions.

"You know what would be more fun?" He answered his own question by moving the toy above her clit, and with one swift motion, not one, but two of his fingers plunged into her. Her back arched at the double sensation, mouth hanging open as he curled his fingers inside her while the vibrator pressed against her clit.

Her legs shook violently to the simulation and Spencer saw the way her body trembled, noticing the sign of her climax coming in close. Seeing her thighs quiver set off a hunger in him, a desire for her to surrender completely to his command. He wanted to see her melt into nothingness. He wanted to see her lose herself in pleasure.

Grunting, he adjusted his fingers inside her, containing their thrusts as his other hand turned the vibration higher. The vibration heightened her senses. It was becoming harder to suppress her mewls as the pressure became more intense as she closed her eyes, throwing her head back, feeling the intensity grow.

She was so close he could feel her clenching around his fingers, and with a devious grin, he increased the vibrations once more. She cried out his name as the pressure kept building. Her mind was spinning. Her body was at its breaking point.

"I-I'm gonna—"

He turned off the toy and pulled his fingers out. Her eyes snapped open.

"Wha..." she looked at him with half-lidded eyes, her chest heaving frantically. "W-Why did you stop?"

He smiled at the sight before him. Her skin was sweltering against her shirt, sweat damped on her forehead and neck, her thighs were apart, and a vibrator stuck between her legs, sleek with her arousal. "We're just getting started."

And then he grabbed onto her last piece of clothing and helped her pull it over her head. Her taught nipples greeted him and his skin brushed against them, his wide hands softly squeezing her breasts as his thumb circled around the nub.

"So beautiful," he praised, his eyes traveling down her body, legs spread open for him to enjoy. Her sex was throbbing from his teasing, and it took him a lot of self-control not to bury himself deep inside her right at that moment. Instead, he leaned back and unbuttoned his dress shirt, his eyes never leaving hers as he slowly slipped off his clothes.

His pants were next, then came off his briefs, and then there he was again, back in between her legs wearing nothing but a smirk on his lips as her eyes focused on his hard length resting against his thighs. He hummed in satisfaction at the look she was giving him, and because she looked so damn irresistible, he leaned forward and captured her lips with his in a slow, lazy kiss.

He tasted every inch of her, his tongue colliding against hers hungrily, getting lost in the sweet taste of her before pulling away, a string of saliva stretching between their parted lips. Her chest heaved as she watched him grab onto her vibrator again, and with that cunning smile curled at the corner of his lips, he placed the toy against her mouth.

"Suck," he commanded.

She looked at him hesitantly, but beneath his penetrating gaze, she slowly wrapped her lips around the pink silicone. Her tongue danced around it, tasting the initial burst of her own arousal. Her eyes looked up to him as her cheeks hollowed slightly with each gentle suck before he pulled it out of her mouth.

"Good girl," he grunted, sliding the toy down her body, leaving a wet trail along her skin. "Never knew you can take orders so well." His other hand then gently brushed her inner thighs. "Let's continue again, shall we?"

His fingers pressed against her sex before spreading her lips apart, leaning down to spit directly in between them. She felt his saliva make contact down her body, and her back arched just in time for him to push the toy into her, sliding it so effortlessly between her swollen lips.

It vibrated inside her as he clicked the button, the sensation traveling along her body as her fingers gripped onto the sheets. Spencer watched as she squirmed beneath him. He watched as the device disappeared inside her, her arousal pooling down her thighs, drenching the bed underneath them.

"You're making such a mess," he mused between his constant teasing, thrusting the vibrator into her. "Are you always this wet while using this?"

She shook her head helplessly. "N-No," her voice came out as a needy whine while his fingers slid around the toy, pulling her lips apart to get a better view.

"This is all for me then?" He pushed in deeper, satisfied with the way her body was reacting. "How did I get so lucky?"

The noises her body was making were so lewd. The way he was thrusting the toy inside her had her gasping for air, her head turning side to side against the pillow as the coil in her stomach tightened. Her eyes glanced between them, and the sight of her swollen sex being teased to the point she wondered if this was torture. The lines between pleasure and pain were starting blur.

"You're close again, aren't you?" She wasn't sure how she managed to respond to him, but she did, bobbing her head up and down. "Too bad I'm not going to let you."

He pulled out the vibrator from her and she whined at the sudden emptiness. "Please," she whispered, her voice almost a breath, a prayer, and a plea all in one. 

"Oh, you're begging now?" He gazed down at her, his eyes mirroring the hunger that had consumed her. "You are desperate." He watched as she bucked her hips against nothing, desperately searching for friction. "Be a good girl for me and hold it."

He then pressed the vibrator against her clit with its highest speed, circling over it ever so slightly, before sinking it back inside her almost roughly.

"Oh my god," she gasped. "Baby, I-I can't."

"Hold it," he ordered. "Don't come until I give you my permission."

Her breath quickened as she tried to focus on controlling her body, but it was too much, too fucking much that she found her eyes watering from her restrain. He noticed the small teardrops had now welled up and spilled over, streaming over her cheeks. Her thick, delicate lashes stuck together as she tried to bat the tears away.

"You're crying now?" He muttered, fascinated at her reaction.

He shouldn't have felt good about this, it was such a disgusting thought to actually take pleasure in seeing the tears run down her face. But she was gorgeous when she cried, almost angelic. Her glassed irises and furrowed brows bring about an innocence to her that she didn't always show. It was hard to feel bad for when she looked this fucking pretty while she sobbed.

"Spencer, please," she pleaded, her voice sounding more like a strangle than a moan.

"Hold it. You're going to come when I tell you to come."

"N-No," she cried, her body convulsing as the pleasure took her body. There was nothing left to feel than the urge to embrace her long-awaited release. "Please, please, please."

"Shhh," he whispered, his other free hand wiping away the tear escaping from the corner of her eye. "Just a little longer."

"Spence, I-I don't think I can."

He also didn't think he could hold any longer. But he be damned if he didn't wait another few seconds when she looked so good writhing underneath him, gasping his name desperately like a prayer on her lips.

"Tell me what you need." When she didn't respond, too busy focusing on controlling her breath and the sensation building up in her stomach, he urged on, "Come on, beg for it."

A strangled whimper ripped through her body.

"Please, please," her words come out muffled as she trembled from the way he was pressing the toy deeper into her. It felt good, so fucking good, but she wanted to feel him. She needed to feel his skin against hers so badly. "I need you inside me, please."

He groaned and pulled the toy out of her before lining up his cock between her slit, gasping in pleasure when he slowly pushed himself into her. Her vision blurred until she couldn't distinguish her surroundings. His hand fell to her stomach, where he could, undoubtedly, feel the head of his cock nudging one of her internal organs. She felt extremely full as she endured the pressure of him inside her. 

"Fuck, baby," she breathed out. "Please."

He took no time to move, leaning forward and prompting himself with his arms on either side of her head. His hips began thrusting into her wildly, desperately, deranged in his need. Everything was all-consuming for her as her whole body burned from the way his cock slammed into her, each thrust filling her walls until she was nothing but a whining mess, begging for release.

Her whines seemed to push him further, praise falling from his lips as her hips trembled beneath his relentless pace. Her walls spasmed around him, clinging tightly to his shaft as the coil in her snapped. Then he moved forward and that particular move earned a yelp from her. He pushed forward with deep, powerful strokes, circling and angling down to hit that fleshy, soft patch buried too far for his fingers or her toy could reach. 

He gasped when he felt her walls clenching around him hard. She was panting, looking at him with desperate need and it was then he finally decided to give her what she had been begging for.

"Go on, come for me, sweet girl," he groaned as she devolved into incoherent sounds.

She finally came with a cry—loud, intense, and desperate. She came while her body shook, her legs trembling, and her lips hanging open in ecstasy as the sensation overwhelmed her over and over again. And when she thought she was done, he never slowed down his movements. Instead, he thrust faster into her, the wet sound of skin hitting against skin filling the room.

She wasn't capable of controlling herself anymore now, wanting to touch something but she was too weak from all the pleasure, so weak she could barely move her limbs, let alone make an intentional, concerted effort to grab onto a part of him.

So her mouth, hanging open in a heavy pant, was the next best option. She turned her head and leaned into his forearms, bracing him and holding him up above her. Giving him that leverage that let him thrust into her so deeply. And then her brain went blurry. Empty, save for the pleasure burning in her body and the humming of his name repeating over and over like a mantra.

She pressed her open mouth against his skin, breathing raggedly in some form of relief, her tongue gliding over his sweat-salted skin as she felt the muscle contract underneath. She dragged her lips side to side, drooling almost as he thrust deep into her. She groaned against his arm as her eyes rolled deep back into her head.

"You're still coming, aren't you?" Spencer asked above her, humor evident in his voice although she was beyond the point of comprehension.

But she managed to nod her head absently, lips mashing against his skin, and heard his laughter in her ears. "That's it. You're doing so well."

The sounds uncontrollably coming out of her were lewd and disgusting, mostly incoherent, but she didn't feel any shame anymore. All she cared about was the feeling of him so deep inside, hitting that perfect spot over and over again. She was such a mess, she knew that. All sweat and tears, all desperate and eager. 

"You're so tight," he grunted, his movements growing sloppy as he began to feel the tightness in his stomach. "Fuck, I'm gonna come."

And then he leaned down and hovered above her, his lips brushing against hers but not quite kissing her. "Please," he mumbled against her open mouth, and she couldn't tell if he was begging for forgiveness or for permission.

Spencer couldn't think anymore. Nothing coherent, at least. His senses were drowning in everything that was her. Her scent, her skin, her breath. He then hit that spot inside her, so incredibly warm around him, and he clasped his eyes tightly as his pleasure faded into a glowing heat spreading inside her body. He grunted into her open mouth, giving her everything he could offer while she accepted everything she could take.

He finally collapsed on top of her as he breezed through his release, endorphins surging through his veins. Y/n pressed a hand to his cheek and his eyes fluttered open, slightly pushing himself up to stare into her eyes.

"Was I too much?" He barely whispered.

"...no," she managed to gasp out, still trying to calm her pulse.

"Good."

Then he sat back up and moved his hips back before thrusting forward again. She looked at him in bewilderment as she watched him grab her toy, pressing it back between their still joint bodies.

She was dumbfounded. Stunned. Astonished. There were not enough synonyms in the dictionary to describe how flabbergasted she was now. And suddenly she thought of all the good traits he had, all the good words and praises people had always described him to be.

He's so smart and kind.

He's the most thoughtful person.

He can be such an angel.

She wanted to laugh. It was more likely that she was dancing with the devil now.

"What?" He whispered, that cunning smile of his creeping back on his face. "Did you think I was done?"

Her body started to squirm again. Spencer had always been a good boy—just not for tonight.

.

.

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Don’t forget to interact with the story!

[ciy0]

i just thunk a thought so please bare with me

I’m thinking about how Mingyu is definitely the type of guy that’s drawn to someone who’s severely lacking in the love department or who might’ve been hurt deeply in the past. He doesn’t do it consciously, but he just starts to notice you. How sometimes you have this far away look in your eyes, or how you keep your head down when talking to others or god forbid he overhears you demeaning yourself disguised in jest. He so full of love I see him gravitating towards someone who’s cup it’s damn near on empty but trying their best to save every last drop and he just wants to pour everything thing he has into it and then some; till it’s overflowing.

He doesn’t even realize his initial interest blossoming into a full blown crush. He wants to be the shoulder you cry on, he wants to carry any burdens you have, he wants to see that smile that reaches your eyes be directed at him. He just wants you bursting at the seams from happiness but he’s a little selfish in the fact that he wants it to be by his hand.

He notices the little things and big things about you that may go unnoticed by others and finds himself worrying over you and rooting for you even before you both have a proper conversation. Wondering if you ate, if you had a good day today, if you enjoyed the new episode of that anime he overheard you liked (he started watching it too), if you slept well even though the most you’ve both uttered to each other was a simple pleasantry in passing and a bow.

His mind reels when you kindly pick up things people accidentally dropped or that one time you helped clean up the coffee he’d spilt on the floor without a word. Or even that time when you offered a staff member your umbrella on a rainy day saying you had two, just for him to see you drenched in the rain a couple blocks away as his driver took him home (once recovered from the shock he shot out of the car running back to where he saw you last but you were long gone). His heart clenched painfully when he heard the reason he hadn’t seen you around the week after that was because you had come down with a nasty cold. You give and give without ever expecting anything in return; without thinking you deserve anything in return. But who’s giving to you?

He finds his gaze wondering off in your direction during social gatherings. His own features softly morphing into a for-longing smile as he sees you enjoy yourself with your group of friends, hearing that rare burst of genuine laughter at whatever you guys were joking about. He cursed his cowardice, not being able to approach confidently like how he’d imagine in his head so many times. He had some mutual friends maybe that’d be a good place to start—

He was startled out of his reverie as Seungwan pointed out his goofy expression teasing “What’s got you so distracted lover boy?” Mingyu ops to just huff a smile in into his drink as he bashfully looked away.

You, it was you who had him like this

[ericscroptop]

Wet Dreams

✧ pairing: eric sohn x mid-size/chubby fem! reader

✦ genre: friends to lovers + smut

✧ warnings: 18+ (minors DNI) smut, kissing, cursing, slight angst, inexperienced reader, hand job, male receiving, lots of spit, fondling, praising/praise kink, pet names, talk of insecurities, body issues, internalized fat phobia, etc., pls be cautious because i know it can be a sensitive topic for some!

✦ word count: 9.3k words (LMAOOOO)

✧ synopsis: your friend eric invites you over to his house for a swim and it is then that you realize eric wants you in ways you would’ve never imagined for yourself.

✦ note: this fic is kinda self indulgent—written as someone who is mid-size/chubby and has insecurities. i just want people who have a chubbier/thicker/fat body to feel loved and be included explicitly in writings because we are all deserving of love and affection!

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

You hated swimming.

Well— okay, so you didn’t actually hate swimming.

Your disinterest for the activity was not rooted in swimming itself, but for the fact that you’d have to wear some sort of bikini in order to swim.

Technically, there wasn’t a law that said you had to wear a bikini to the beach or the pool. There are plenty of people who happily choose to wear something like a t-shirt or cover-up that’s more generous while swimming for whatever reason.

There are also a plethora of bathing suits that exist, so there’s gotta be one that you feel comfortable in, right?

The thing is, you plainly felt insecure in showing skin. You were insecure of your arms that seemed to carry excess fat that was especially visible when you moved them. Your belly hung low and it honestly was more plump than your behind. You also had skin-colored stretch marks that decorated your lower back that never seemed to go away.

These were things about you that you constantly dwelled on no matter what. You couldn’t recall a day where the topic of your body didn’t flood your mind.

You had no problem in people showing skin at all. At the end of the day, the problem was simply your lack of confidence due to society’s beauty standards that have been shoved in your face, pressed into your mind, and flooded your ears for as long as you could remember.

Though today, you were attempting at conquering your insecurities and finally stepping out of your comfort zone.

It was scorching in L.A. today. It was too hot to go out but also too hot to just rot in your home all day. Even with air conditioning, you just felt nasty.

Your friend Eric invited you to come to his house for a nightly swim. A wave of anxiety hit you when you had read his text of the invitation. First of all, he was a guy— of which, you found insanely attractive.

He was a friend that you made in your Sociology course. You remembered how he randomly approached you one day to ask a question mid-semester about something that he could’ve easily found the answer to if he looked back at the syllabus.

Though, you were happy to help anyone who needed it and answered him nicely. Or maybe it was merely because he was probably the prettiest boy you had ever laid eyes on that actually approached you, so you didn’t think twice to reply to him—but you would never let anyone know that. He was appreciative, and since then, he decided to cling onto you since you showed him courtesy.

You honestly thought he would’ve forgotten about your presence or only come to you when he needed help, but he actually started sitting with you and even distracting you with mindless but entertaining conversations during lectures.

While you started looking forward to coming into class and now having someone to talk to, your only interest in the class became the charming guy who was energetic and always made you smile from ear to ear. You eventually told Eric that you needed to prioritize your lectures and cut back on the excessive side conversations during class. He decided to take that as an opportunity to ask for your number, so you guys could hangout outside the classroom.

You were shocked that he wanted to be your friend. You didn’t feel as charming or alluring as he was, but he still found interest in you. You guys started hanging out and doing things like studying (or trying to at least) and doing miscellaneous activities at least once a week.

He became your best friend all of a sudden. You were super grateful that he came into your life, but you still felt nervous around him. He was such a good guy. You didn’t want to take your friendship for granted.

Eric was also super outgoing and friendly, while you were more reserved and it was rare for you to make new friends and be spontaneous. Sometimes, you still wonder why he decided to become your friend.

Maybe you felt this way due to your insecurities, or maybe it was because you had this lingering feeling of butterflies in your stomach every time you guys were together. Maybe it was a mixture of both.

Anyways, for whatever the reason, you just tried to be a good friend to the guy. You didn’t want to fuck anything up and so you tried your best to please Eric and not be a burden in any way.

Now, you find yourself looking at your reflection in the mirror of Eric’s guest bathroom. You tug on your favorite oversized Spongebob shirt that you own, pulling it to where it ends just below your bottom. You were getting ready to finally swim, and Eric was already out by the pool waiting while you freshen up and change.

You sighed at your reflection with both of your hands placed against your hips, wondering why the fuck you’re feeling so uneasy.

You actually surprised yourself by deciding to wear a bikini for tonight. You purchased one awhile back just for the heck of it, even if you never mustered up the courage to wear it. The bikini was high-waisted and red with a twist front on the bottoms. The bikini top was also red and a wireless bra. It was actually super comfortable against your skin and red was a striking color, but all you saw in the mirror was your plump stomach screaming at you to be covered, and your cleavage just wasn’t elevated enough to your liking. Your arms were also bothering you, as you could only focus on the excess fat that was noticeable as you moved them. You probably were gonna look like a whale next to Eric and the thought made you uncomfortable mixed with embarrassed.

So that’s why you brought a t-shirt to swim in just incase you chickened out. There’s nothing wrong with having a shirt on in the pool. I mean, it’s normal! Though, you couldn’t help but feel ashamed that you felt like shielding yourself and not letting yourself wear that bikini freely. It was only going to be you two together, so why were you making it so complicated?

“Fucking hell.” you sharply inhaled and let out a heavy sigh. You stared deeply into the mirror one last time, picking at your skin as you had no makeup on. Another thing you felt insecure about. You always had makeup on around Eric, but this time you didn’t for obvious reasons. “Ugh, whatever.” you groaned out before finally leaving the bathroom, fed up with all this negativity you felt towards yourself.

I mean, why did you care so fucking much? You knew deep down that Eric would never judge you. Any normal person wouldn’t think so hard about going for a swim. This is a casual activity, why were you overthinking it?

You walked through Eric’s massive house towards his patio. You already knew the ropes around his house, since this wasn’t your first time here. Though, you had only been here for things like baking brownies on Friday nights and playing Super Mario Party on the Nintendo Switch, not for using the pool.

You reached the glass sliding door that opened the patio and led yourself outside. His patio lights were on, illuminating his backyard so that it wasn’t completely dark out. You spotted Eric sitting on one of the pool chairs, mindlessly scrolling through Instagram reels obnoxiously loud on his phone. He seemed to be passing time while waiting for you before he got into the pool.

“Hey, you.” you made your way over to where he was sitting with a smile on your face.

Eric perked up at the sound of your voice and abandoned his phone, twisting his body towards you. “Finally! I was seriously about to call you to ask what’s taking so long.” Eric mimicked your smile and adjusted his arms to where they were now leaning back behind him.

You felt a flush of heat wave over your body, not due to the humid summer night, but due to Eric’s appearance. His hair has been permed for a while now and you just can’t help but admire how good he looks in curly hair. His dark brown curls complemented his naturally tanned-skin so well. He’s also already shirtless, in nothing but a pair of blue swim shorts and a chain adorning his neck. He also had a cute bracelet around his wrist and small hoops that dangled from his ears as they always did. Every detail of him just looked so beautiful to you.

You mentally slap yourself for gawking at your best friend. You scoffed in response, “I don’t doubt that you would’ve.”

He chuckles as he rises from his chair, brows furrowing in confusion as his eyes run down the length of your body. “I thought you were changing into your bathing suit?” he asked curiously.

The tips of your ears go hot as he questions. You stare at him like a deer in headlights, fingers going down to fidget with the tips of your hair.

“Oh yeah, I just didn’t like how it looked at me.” you shyly admitted. You couldn’t lie to Eric over small matters. Even if you were embarrassed, you still felt complied to always be honest when he asks you something. Though, it was hard to have deep conversations with Eric because he was a guy— of which, you possibly have a small crush on. This was all new to you and you were still learning on how to navigate your friendship.

“Why?” he simply asked, staring at you, eyes full of concern. You bit your lip as he looked at you, your body starting to get a little tense.

“I dunno, I just am not used to wearing a swimsuit,” you shrugged. “I actually don’t go swimming often so I’m not used to wearing one. I typically would just wear a shirt like I am now.” You rubbed your left foot against your right ankle as you spoke, starting to feel awkward in having this conversation.

“Oh,” was all Eric said, starting to frown a bit but quickly shook his head and crossed his arms. “You know, I don’t care what you wear as long as it makes you comfortable, but right now, it’s just you and me here,” he subtly smiles. “We’re gonna be in the water having fun and cooling off. I don’t want to pressure you or anything, but you’re safe around me.” Eric reassures you and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

You half smile while looking down at your feet. “I know.” you simply agreed.

You suddenly look up at the feeling of his dominant hand now on your left shoulder, patting it reassuringly. “Y/n, you don’t have to be shy in front of me. We’re good friends, let’s be comfortable with each other, yeah?” His eyes were full of tenderness as you met his gaze. You pouted your lips playfully in attempt to not get sappy at his words.

He was right though. You just want to have fun and you’re letting your insecurities get the best of you. You know Eric isn’t an asshole. He never judges anyone’s appearance and you know he’s a sweetheart.

You nod your head as you take in his words. “Thanks Eric, really.” your face flushed as he shook his head.

“You don’t need to thank me. I know people wear shirts in the pool but when I picked you up earlier, you said you brought a swimsuit, so I figured you wanted to wear it. You don’t have to feel shy.”

He licks his lips and pauses for a moment before continuing, “You always look good.” Eric rubbed the back of his neck and shyly looked to the side as his voice faltered uttering that last part. Your lips parted slightly as you processed that compliment. The corner of your lips then curled upwards and you let out a soft chuckle.

“Okay, I guess you’ve convinced me. It’s just us, right?” you said rhetorically, sighing deeply. I mean, you were mainly going to be in the water anyways, so why trip over this?

Eric smiles seeing you finally deciding to remove your t-shirt, allowing your bikini to be worn properly. You toss the shirt onto the chair he was sitting at, and adjust your bathing suit top’s straps. He timidly looks away as you do, grabbing his phone to connect it to his speaker to play some music while you guys swim.

You start moving towards the pool, ready to finally do what you came here to do and allow yourself to enjoy this time. Eric looks back up at you dancing to the song he put on while making way into the pool, your locks of hair twirling around your back with each step. His gaze then ‘accidentally’ wanders down to your red bottoms, his cheeks flushing once realizing he’s checking you out.

Oh wow. he thinks to himself as he squeezes his eyes shut for a moment to tame his thoughts, rubbing his lips against each other. He then hears you call out to him that the water feels good and to come join him.

Eric puts his phone down and looks at you, your form hidden underneath water, splashing and gleaming as your body felt more relaxed now.

“I’m coming!” He shouts before he starts running towards your direction. You start grinning at his words because you have a dirty ass mind, but it immediately falters once you realize he’s gonna cannonball. Your brows knitted as he made way closer, both hands shielding your face and eyes closed once he plunges into the pool, creating splashes of waves in your direction.

“Eric!” you playfully scold him for of course having to jump into the pool like a maniac. You rub your face after the splashes drenched your face and hair, tucking your hair back behind your ears, sucking in a breath. Eric emerges from beneath the water breathing heavily, laughing as he sticks his tongue out, grazing it over the corner of his lip.

“You’re such a guy.” you scoff at him, rolling your eyes. Eric raises a brow and then begins to splash more water your way. “I’m only having fun!” Eric raises both hands from his sides, gesturing to the pool and cheekily smiling at you as he shakes his head gently.

———————————————————————————

You two swam for about an hour. You guys tossed a beach ball for awhile, chatted about old gossip you always brought up when together, and even played mermaids upon your request— to which created plenty of laughter on your part seeing Eric take his role very seriously for awhile.

He then pleaded for you guys to race— which you initially declined, having no interest. He pouted at your disinterest, but started racing anyways. Water splashed all over your face for the nth time as he swam to the opposite end of the pool, leaving you behind sulking and rolling your eyes.

“I’m getting out!” you yelled and lifted yourself out the pool. Eric continued racing himself as you walked away to grab some towels nearby for the both of you. Once he made it to the end, he let out a sigh at your lack of desire to race. He clearly wanted to spend more time together in the water, but you were all tired out.

He sees your figure loosely drying your hair, and makes his way out the pool towards you. You met his gaze and nodded your head towards a towel you laid out for him. He silently thanked you and began drying himself, then wrapping it around his waist.

You ditched the now-damp towel you used for your hair and wrapped a fresh one around your figure, almost like a blanket. You both sat down together on one of the long pool chairs, soaking in the night while letting the air dry you guys some more.

“Do you wanna order some food? I’m really hungry,” Eric turns to look at you, your eyes meeting his at the sound of his voice.

“Yeah, before my stomach starts growling.” you chuckle as Eric smiles.

“Does pizza sound good? The usual, right?” Eric asks even though he’s already looking through his contacts, searching for the number of a local pizza place that has become a regular for you guys.

“Yes, please.” You cuddle into your towel as Eric calls the number, the pizza place answering after two rings.

He began ordering you guy’s usual and you can’t help but stare at him while he talks on the phone. His curly hair is wettish from all the swimming, some of the curls falling past his forehead. Every so often he’d toss his head a little to shake the hanging curls away from his eyes.

You just couldn’t help but admire how fine your best friend was. It was a crime that he walked around looking like a god. The jawline he had could probably leave a cut on your skin if you brushed against it with how defined it was. His side profile was beyond alluring and would make you double take when passing a glance. His beautiful, bronzed skin made him look so godly.

And he even had such a nice body. Eric frequented the gym, and his abs and muscles were definitely proof of that. He was proud of his body, and did his best to keep his prominent muscles defined by working on himself consistently. He was dripping with good looks.

Eric ends the call eventually and you’re ripped away from your wandering thoughts, crushing hard over your best friend.

“Whatcha thinking about?” Eric speaks in a playful tone, meeting your gaze after putting his phone down.

You awkwardly begin to laugh. “Just about how hungry I am.” you obviously lie.

Eric cocks his head and shoots you a grin. “You were staring at me, though.”

Your teeth began to tug on your bottom lip, before letting out another nervous laugh as you looked to the side.

“Well… I guess I was just waiting for you to finish ordering.” you replied nonchalantly, making a weak attempt at putting on a poker face even though you’ve already failed.

“You love spending time with me, huh? Can’t get enough of me?” Eric playfully hits your arm with his elbow, causing an ‘ow’ to escape your lips even though it barely hurt.

“Why do you always have to be such a tease?” you wrinkled your nose in question.

“‘Cause I like you,” Eric casually admits like nothing, his eyes having been scanning over your face this whole time since having ended the call.

Your lips parted as you blinked harshly, eventually letting free a forced laugh and your face forms a lopsided grimace.

“Can you be serious right now?” you scratched your head as you looked at Eric.

“I am.” Eric spoke softly, losing the playful tone completely.

He felt like he was gonna explode at his random confession. What you thought was harmless teasing was him actually flirting and him having romantic interest in you. You guys started out as friends but as time went on, he fell for you. After all the conversations and hangouts, he got to know you better and even from the first day, he thought you were such a pretty girl.

Though, he didn’t know when the proper time to confess was or if he even wanted to. You guys have such a solid friendship, and it seemed like you were fine with your stance.

Then again, you were very timid, so you often held back any talk involving feelings— at least with him. You weren’t the type to open up first. He usually had to question you to get an answer out of you— as much as you were willing to say, anyways.

“Like… as friends, right?” Confusion flooded your face as you hadn’t a clue of where he was going with this.

“Yeah, but… what if I said I meant it as more than that?” Eric had this hope-filled look clouding his face. He looked at you anticipating that you felt the same. Even at his random confession, he hopes that you can see how serious he is. That he didn’t just fuck up your friendship by making things weird and that you get the hint that he wants to be more with you.

“Okay— this is not funny. Literally, what are you going on about?” you scoffed and shook your head. You honestly couldn’t believe what he was alluding to. It just can’t be. No way in hell is Eric Sohn admitting that he likes you in that way. No damn way.

“I would never in my life joke about something like this, Y/n. I know this is out of no where— hell, I wasn’t even sure if I wanted to tell you because I already appreciate what I have with you.” Eric sucked in a breath before continuing. “But I selfishly want to be more. After all this time together, I just can’t help but wanna be able to hold you and call you my girlfriend every time I am around you.”

“I… I honestly think i’ve fallen in love with you.” Eric breathed out and swallowed hard as he looked at your now-incredulous expression, his own eyes widening as he realized what he just said. Your mouth’s open in shock as you blinked excessively, trying to blink away at your now-moist eyes.

“With me?” you laughed harshly at him and Eric’s lips turned down. “I think you’re mistaken.” your gaze shifted towards your feet as you continued. “You cannot love me in that way. I’m just… not perfect.” You’re in utter disbelief. You were way too insecure for your own good.

Of course you fucking loved him back. You tried to ignore it for so long, your stupid little crush on someone you accepted you couldn’t have because you felt that he was way out of your league and your status remained as just friends. He only saw you as a friend, you thought.

You were you and he was Eric fucking Sohn. He was on the baseball team, athletic, a gym rat, popular, out going, a sweetheart, and hot.

While you in comparison, stayed home most days you had zero obligations, barely had any hobbies, and had like 3 friends.

You felt unloveable because of how insecure you were. You didn’t think someone like you was capable of having romantic feelings reciprocated. You felt unworthy. Eric could easily bag an L.A. model if he wanted to. So why the fuck is he here saying he wants to be with you?

Eric blankly stares at you for a moment. His face has gone pale and he feels his throat getting tight. He’s trying to process what you have said. Where is all this coming from?

“You’re perfect to me.” Eric reaches out for your hand and you get goosebumps at the action. Your eyes shift to where your hand is now in his, his thumb stroking your skin gently.

“Eric…” you barely whisper before removing your hand from his hold, looking away and missing the sadness in his eyes at the loss of contact and rejection.

“You cannot be with someone like me… I mean, look at me and then look at you! You are fucking amazing, Eric!” you finally look at him to gesture your right hand at his figure. “You could have anyone in this world and you’re trying to tell me that you’re in love with me? Have you seen me?”

Tears well up in your eyes as you remove the towel you had draped around you from your body. Your fingers roam around your stomach and you harshly pull at your love handles. “This can’t be what you’re attracted to!” you swallow hard, feeling so vulnerable right now.

You felt ugly. Society has told you that you needed to lose weight to be loved. You needed to be slim or appear a certain way in order for everyone to be kind and pay any mind to you. Not many people bothered to get to know you. Even though Eric has been your friend for a while now, you still find it hard to believe someone as handsome as him wanted to be around someone like you.

No guy ever showed any desire in wanting to be with you romantically or physically, or even as a friend. All your friends with ease had people lining up to be with them and you felt so lonely. So unwanted.

Your whole existence, you’ve always felt unworthy and everyone’s last choice. You felt like something was wrong with you and you’ve sorted accepted it.

Eric sat in silence as he took in your words. He had no idea you felt this deeply about yourself, how you saw yourself in a negative light. He thinks back to when you came out in your shirt and said how you weren’t feeling yourself in your bikini which prompted you to come out covered. You were self conscious. He looked at you with distraught and teary eyes. He was heartbroken to hear you think so lowly of yourself when in his eyes, you were practically Aphrodite mixed with an angel.

“Y/n, I didn’t know you felt this way.” Eric’s eyes softened as you looked down to the concrete, feeling ashamed and embarrassed of yourself right now.

“I’m sorry if anyone has ever made you feel unworthy or uncomfortable to live as yourself. I’m sorry that you cannot see the beauty in yourself.” Eric choked out.

“But I promise you, that you are so beyond beautiful inside and out.” he licked his lips and shook his head. “You don’t understand how beautiful you are. How much I enjoy spending time with you. Why do you think I insist we hangout at least once a week?”

Eric lets out a chuckle which prompts you to look up at him. “After every hangout, or even after every class we had together, I was already longing for the next time we’d see each other. I’ve been desperate for you… you consume my thoughts, Y/n.”

Your face turns crimson as he says all this to you, processing his every word. It did begin to make sense. He’s the one who asked for your number first. He always invites you over to his home. He actually seems to care about you. You chew on your lip at the realization. You were so caught up in your own self consciousness.

You never have imagined that someone could love you in this way in reality.

Eric notices you begin to soften up a bit and his lips curl upwards. “I like that you can handle my silly antics and loudness, and always laugh instead of seriously being annoyed. I like that you have such a kind heart, and are always willing to make time for others— even if that means sacrificing your own obligations and time.” Eric looked at you in adoration, like a puppy in love. You have to admit, your heart swells at his words, and it brings a slight smile to your face.

“Oh come on, you’re so cheesy.” you playfully slap Eric’s hand as you sniffle.

He bites his lower lip and rubs his chin before continuing, “I also like when you have your hair up in a ponytail and leave two strands out on either side. I don’t see you with your hair up often, so I get excited when you do have it up.” You grab a piece of your hair and begin to play with it, face flushed as he keeps going.

“And,” he pauses for a brief moment, blushing as he whispers the next part. “I like it when I see you and I can tell you’re not wearing a bra.”

You drop the strand of hair and look at him with wide eyes, face full of sudden shock. Are you hearing correctly?

“Your nipples are always so hard, baby.” he chuckles as his gaze moves towards your chest.

“Even now, I can see them poking through,” he nods his head at your breasts. You look down and move your hands onto your chest, feeling your nipples through the top. You glance back up at Eric, a cheeky smile plastered on his face.

“Was that cheesy, too?” he questions, tilting his head to the side, shit eating grin smothering his face.

“Eric!” you scold the boy and mischievously hit his arm for suddenly admitting he stares at your breasts often. Though, your thighs instinctively press together at his lewd words, face still crimson.

Your best friend has admitted all these things to you. He sees you the way you see him, and it all feels like a hallucination. You usually feel so insecure, but he sees you like gold. You’re nothing but stunned right now.

Eric laughs as he wraps an arm around you, making you shiver at the sudden contact.

His hand reaches over your shoulder, accidentally brushing over close to your breast, resulting in you jolting at the sudden action as you felt sensitive to the touch.

Eric immediately removes his hand and leans back. “Shit, sorry!” he doesn’t hesitate to say. He’s embarrassed at his attempt in being smooth. He doesn’t want to scare you off.

“It’s fine.” you shyly speak. You have to admit, you were getting a bit turned on. After him showering you in compliments and confessions, you were now slowly accepting that he actually does want you in the same way you’ve fantasized over him.

Not only does he seem to like you for your personality, but also physically.

“No it’s not. I don’t know why I thought touching you like that without permission was okay. You’re still vulnerable.” Eric feels guilty and moves his eyes to look away from you in embarrassment. You haven’t even responded on whether or not you accept his feelings. I mean, you seem fine now.

Of course your insecurities won’t disappear overnight, but you looked more relaxed. He just hopes you don’t feel the need to shy away from him anymore.

“Eric…” you softly speak. He looks up at you curiously, humming as your eyes are already on him, looking at him softheartedly.

“I love you, too.” you murmur tenderly.

Eric’s heart suddenly starts beating fast. He adjusts his posture and a smile creeps up to his face as he registers your words for a moment.

“Are you serious?” he looks at you excitedly with flashing eyes.

“One thousand percent.” you gain the confidence to reach over to run your thumb along his cheek, taking your time to caress him. Eric feels the hair on his skin begin to stand up as you touch him intimately. His eyes shut as you take in his face, feeling it for the first time.

You smile at how cute he looks, softening under just the touch of your thumb.

“I’ll be yours if you’ll have me.” Eric states, his eyes opening to look at your own glistening ones. His face leans into your touch, feeling so good that you’re finally embracing him like this.

“Of course I’ll be your girlfriend.” you look up at him lovingly.

His heart swells at this moment. The moment he’s been longing for, where he can finally call you his.

Eric is going to make sure you feel loved every second of the day from now on.

He removes your hand from his face and holds it gently within his own. With his other hand, it is now his turn to stroke your face with his warm palm. You swallow as you feel yourself melting like ice at his hot touch.

Eric is so close to you, yet so far. You have him now, so that means you can do all the things you’ve longed for with him.

“I want you to k— kiss me.” you suddenly blurt out, gaining trust to do so.

Eric pauses his delicate strokes against your cheek, and looks at you in surprise.

“I’ve never kissed anyone before.” you shyly admitted. You fluttered your eyelashes at him and stared at him pleadingly. “Please teach me, Eric.”

Eric swears he feels his dick twitch at your eagerness. With a simple sentence, his brain feels like it’s on fire. Oh how he’s longed to kiss your pink lips for what seems like forever.

Your innocence is cute, he thinks. How you’re willing to open up to him like this. How you are allowing yourself to let him love you in this way.

“You’re so precious.” Eric breathes out as he begins caressing your cheek again. You look at his eyes that carry a sense of longing as he scans your face, soaking up your features.

“We can take it slow.” Eric murmurs and you nod.

Eric’s thumb moves to your bottom lip, tracing the lines and feeling how plump it is. Your palms began to sweat in anticipation, and your heart rate increases at the build up.

Your eyes are open still, watching him curiously as he grazes his thumb over your lower lip gently, which makes his own heart flood in an ocean of warmth.

Eric’s thumb drops and his dominant hand moves to gently cup your jaw. His other hand pulls you closer against his chest, hand now resting on your side. You slightly shiver at his touch, fingers dancing over your love handles.

“You can touch me too, baby.” Eric nods at you, seeing you’re a bit tense and don’t really know what to do even though you so desperately want to feel his lips on yours already.

You hesitantly place your hand over his chest, rubbing the area carefully. Your fingers graze over his nipple and his eyes immediately shut at the feeling. He inhales sharply at your movements, and you can’t help but chuckle seeing him affected like this just by your touch.

Your other hand rests on the back of his neck along the nape, beginning to tangle your fingers in his curls and it feels like home for the both of you.

You don’t know what to do next, so you just continue combing through his hair. Though, you finally close your eyes, signaling to him that you’re ready for a kiss.

Eric’s lips curl upwards at how cute this is— you waiting for him to take the lead. He finds you very endearing like this.

He caresses your side as he slowly pulls your jaw close. Your lips separate faintly while he does so, awaiting for your lips to meet.

His eyes shut as he captures your bottom lip within his lips. He tilts your head ever so slightly so that you don’t bump noses, and your fingers messily fidget with the nape of his neck as he gently sucked your balmy lip.

Eric’s lips against yours feels electric. You allow him to guide you and you slowly get the hang of it, you soon after kissing him back. The kiss feels so magical. The feeling of his lips against yours sends sparks all throughout your body. You feel as with every movement his lips make against yours, you’re bound to explode like a firework at the passionate sensation.

You lose yourself in his lips, his hands soothing your body in the process, and nothing else matters except for Eric Sohn kissing you.

He pulls back for a moment, and you both stare at each other in awe at what you’ve shared. Eric suddenly lifts his rear off the chair for a bit, removing the towel he had wrapped around his waist and tosses it on the ground. He then decides to pull you over his lap, seating you on top of him with your legs wrapped around him. Your mouth opens agape at the action, your hands moving to his shoulders to steady yourself.

“Am I not too heavy for this?” you cringe, feeling like you can’t even be in this position for a second before it gets uncomfortable for Eric’s hold.

“Nonsense— you fit perfectly, baby.” Eric says. He spreads his legs a bit to make it more comfortable for you.

His hand rests on your back, fingers rubbing it soothly. His fingers trace the valleys of your stretch marks that decorate your lower back, and he smiles at the feeling of your skin.

“S’ gorgeous.” he murmurs, your cheeks heat up in response. Eric’s lips lean in to press against your pink cheeks, leaving tender, wet kisses all over your face. “You’re such a pretty girl.” he announces as you giggle at his affection towards you.

You crave for his lips on you again, so you take the risk of moving to glide your tongue over his bottom lip, begging to be invited in his mouth for seconds. A groan of satisfaction vibrates through Eric’s chest and he lets you in. Your tongues greet each other as your lips enveloped. A moan escapes your throat at feeling the wetness of his tongue against your own. You’ve suddenly lost your inhibitions after hearing all of Eric’s praises and tasting his pillowy lips. This kiss was sensual, becoming all hot and breathy in desire for one another.

Eric’s teeth gently graze over your bottom lip and you can’t help but move your body from the pleasure, resulting in you grinding down on Eric’s lap.

You pull back for a breath and your heart misses a beat as you feel something hard press against the fabric of your bottoms. You gasp at the foreign feeling.

“Shit, I’m sorry.” Eric breathes out and goes to pet your hair. “We can stop if you want, just tell me.” Eric says, face turning red.

One of your hands moves to fiddle around his neck, admiring the chain that rested against his collarbones. You bat your eyelashes as you rub yourself against Eric’s crotch again, eliciting a deep groan out of him, his eyes drawn shut from your actions. You bite your lip at the stimulation it brought to your core. There’s a strange feeling growing in the pit of your stomach. This was all new to you, so it was very thrilling.

You lean over his neck and tenderly begin peppering kisses all over, his hips bucking up at the feeling of your mouth on his sweet spot.

“Mhm.” you whimper at the friction of his bulge against your core, which captivates Eric. The sound of your pretty moans and the way your body responds to him has blood rushing straight to his cock.

“What are you doing, princess?” Eric gently pulls you back from his neck, looking at your desperate eyes with his own, wetting his lips with his tongue.

You continue to rub your core against his crotch as he introduces that nickname. Your arms wrap around his neck and your fingers get lost in his curls once again.

“You like when I call you that, huh?” Eric nods his head at you, smirk prevalent on his face.

You whine at his teasing, hiding your face in his neck. “Eric…” you announce.

“Hm?” he hums, rubbing your back soothingly.

You pull back from his neck to look at him. He presses his lips together as you bashfully look at him. Your lips part in wanting to say something, but you hesitate in doing so, moving your gaze away from his own.

“What is it, baby?” Eric coos as he cups your jaw. “You can tell me.” he encourages you since you’ve suddenly gone shy.

“I— I want to taste you, Eric.” you practically whisper to him.

He chuckles, “You want more kisses?”

He sees you cutely furrow your brows with lips slightly pouted, gently shaking your head. “I don’t mean like that. I mean like… let me help you out.” with heavy lidded eyes, you gesture towards his manhood.

Eric’s lips gape slightly as it registers what you’re saying. He cannot believe what he’s hearing. You have no experience and yet you’re beyond eager. You’re so needy for him and it is fucking turning him on. He could probably cum right now in his swim shorts just from the kissing and grinding.

But, he doesn’t want you to rush into things so suddenly in the heat of the moment. He wants your firsts to be perfect. Even if you guys knew inside that you trust one another, he still wants to be sure.

“Y/n, let me take you on a date first at least, hm?” Eric rubs your thigh gingerly. “I don’t want you to do anything just because i’m hard right now. We can wait until you’re ready.” Eric softly smiles.

You’re still pouting, and let out a huff of frustration at his words. “I just want to taste it.” you whine out while your hips rut down into his, which draws a moan out of Eric, his fingers pressing deeply into your thigh in response. You sigh at the feeling.

“I’ve dreamed about giving you head since I met you.” you confess as you continue, drunk off the feeling of his cock through the thin pieces of fabric. “I promise I want to, Eric. It’s all I want to do tonight. We don’t have to go further than that— it’s what i’m comfortable with for now. We can save all the other stuff for another time. But right now, I just wanna please you if you’ll let me.” you babble, giving him pleading eyes and he see’s how bad you want it.

He wonders what happened to you being coy not that long ago— not that he’s complaining or anything, but you’re now feening over him. This feels like a dream. You wanted to please him so bad and he just could never say no to you, not in a million years.

He would be a fool to turn you down.

He lets out a deep sigh and tsks, his hands snaking around to grip your hips to keep you steady. “Okay, princess. I’d hate to ever say no to you.” Eric goes to chase your lips, sealing the deal. The kiss has you mewling into his mouth and he gulps hard at your noise.

You pull back from his lips and go to leave a tender kiss on the corner before he helps you get off his lap. You stand up as he stays seated, curiously watching your movements. You crouch down and your hands are on the towel Eric tossed earlier, starting to spread it neatly on the ground so your knees can rest over it.

“Here?” Eric questions as you get on your knees and your eyes lock. He bites back a groan as he has to now look down to meet your eyes, seeing you on the ground all submissive on your knees with your cleavage perfectly on display. It has him screaming internally.

“Yeah.” you say as you begin to stroke Eric’s knee. “I’m too impatient to go inside.”

Eric laughs and bends forward to press a kiss on your forehead, your nose scrunching cutely as his lips make contact against your skin. His hands then goes to cup your cheeks. “I’ll be as gentle as possible and guide you if you need it. Just tap my thighs or tell me if you want to stop. Okay, baby?”

“Okay.” you say and nod your head. Eric’s lips give you one last kiss on the corner of your mouth, and he lets you go.

You swallow hard, mentally questioning yourself on how you want to go about this. Eric watches you, smirking as he can practically see the wheels turn on your head. He’ll guide you, but only if he sees you struggling or if you ask for it. He wants to see what you can do, since you seem to be so eager for his cock.

You begin by inching a bit closer to his crotch, just between his knees. Your hands move to touch his abdomen, running your fingers along the defined lines of his abs. Your lips pucker up as you press hot kisses along his stomach, appreciating how beautiful Eric’s build was. Eric’s dominant hand goes to rest in your locks, massaging your scalp as you kiss his tummy.

“You like my body, baby?” a smug look is present on Eric’s face as he says so.

“You’re beautiful,” you breathe out shamelessly, pausing when you’ve gotten closer to the skin just below his belly button.

You soon remove yourself and he lets his hand fall while your hands move to the waistband of his swim shorts. You play with the fabric a bit in nervousness, still figuring out how you’re going to approach this sensual act and wondering if Eric will be satisfied with your performance.

You finally tug his shorts down and fully off. His cock then immediately flops up against his abdomen, slapping the skin.

You gasp at first sight of his cock. It’s pretty lengthy and fat, erect with precum residing on his tip. You gulped as Eric’s right hand moves over to his shaft, beginning to stroke himself as he nibbles on his bottom lip. With pursed lips you look at him, feeling tingly and flushed all over as he makes eye contact with you while he touches himself.

“You wanna touch it?” Eric raises a brow as he slicks his cock in his wetness. You’re salivating at the sight of his naked form playing with himself. He looks so pretty on display like this for you.

He lets go of himself and you finally start to test the waters, hesitantly grabbing the base of his cock and stroking the skin. Eric hisses once he feels your small hand over his base. “Fuck, baby.”

You bite back a smile at his reaction and you start to give the tip kitten licks while rubbing the underside of his cock with your thumb. The taste of his precum lands on your tongue, causing Eric to purr in pleasure.

“Starting off as such a tease.” he mumbles while his legs instinctively spread to give you more room and his left arm goes behind the back of his neck and head, giving you a perfect view of the little sailboat and paw print tattoos that decorate his bicep. So fucking hot, you think to yourself.

You experimentally press your tongue along the underside of his cock, gliding it over a vein all the way up towards his tip, then deciding to take the head of it in your mouth.

A hearty groan rips from Eric’s throat as he feels all these sensations, and you begin to bob your head over a bit of his length, your hand jerking off the rest of his shaft.

“Breathe through your nose, baby, and hollow your cheeks.” he advises you between breathy moans.

You slowly challenge yourself to go deeper, coating his cock with your saliva. Eric is entranced by the slurping sounds that start to escape your lips and becomes drunk off the feeling of your warm mouth encompassing his cock.

His eyes shut while his hips can’t help but buck into your mouth at the feeling. You choke at the sudden movement, removing your mouth and gasping for air, sobbing out a moan as his length pops out your mouth.

“Fuck, princess. Mhm— sorry, can’t help myself.” Eric chuckles, licking his lips as his hand falls into your hair, caressing it gently and keeps it from falling around your face.

Your eyes meet and you hold contact, both of your eyes each going dark with lust while you take him in your mouth again, your left hand running up and down on what you can’t fit while your right decides to rest on his balls, beginning to massage and fondle them.

“That’s it, baby! What a good girl, playing with my balls without being asked. Hmm— you’re an angel.”

Eric praises you and your moans vibrate around his length in response. Your sucking starts to become more enthusiastic at his praises. You remember to curl your lips over your top teeth so they don’t touch him when you start to feel confident to take him deeper.

Eric’s gaze is fixated down on you as you bob your head, being such a brave girl and taking as much of him as you can. Your head rotates from side to side while sucking him, and your right hand is still rubbing circles along his balls, groping them and loving how heavy they feel in your hold.

Eric can’t help but grip your hair a bit tight as your mouth is driving his body insane. You gag around him as you take a bit more than you’re able and he carefully pulls you off. You cry out as you breathe in the fresh air, a string of saliva still connecting your lips with his cock. Eric growls seeing his cock coated in your saliva and his precum, and then moves his vision towards your mouth, your own spit now raining down your chin.

You inhale sharply as you give your mouth a short break and your right hand starts to jerk him off, feeling the wetness of his shaft glaze your hand.

“You’re s’ so big, Eric.” you whine and your lips stay parted, running your tongue along the inside of your mouth. “Jaw is starting to hurt.” you whimper as you look up and flutter your lashes at him, throwing your head back, thighs squeezed together as you tighten your hold around his cock.

“Just a little longer, baby. Getting close.” Eric coos and guides your lips back to his cock again. You run his tip all over your lips like a lipstick, humming in satisfaction at the wetness. You want nothing more than to drown in his essence.

Although your jaw is growing tired, you’re desperate to make him cum. You force your mouth to open wider and bob up and down as far as you can, sucking more of him as much as your mouth can handle.

The suction and slurping noises start to become more frequent from you as you pick up the pace. Eric’s breathing becomes more ragged at your rhythms and pretty sounds.

“Mhm, fuck! Getting close princess— where do you want my cum?” his brows furrow as he peers down at you, tears beginning to form in your eyes when you bring his head far back enough to trigger your gag reflex.

You start to get sloppy with your movements and meet his gaze with your own pleading eyes as he attempts to pull you back by your hair, though, your left hand finds purchase on his base and your right hand’s fingers dig deep onto the skin of his leg.

He laughs in seeing you not having any desire to come off him, “So this is what you meant when you said you were hungry earlier, hm? Can’t believe my pretty, perfect girl wants me to cum in her mouth for her first time. So fucking hot.” Eric’s cock twitches and balls tighten up once he’s approaching his release, brows knitting together and mouth agape, beginning to whimper in overstimulation.

“Mhm— Eric!” you muffle around his cock while your pussy throbs from listening to his pretty sounds leaving his lips as a result of you and from his fat length twitching in your mouth.

You continue to suck and jack off sloppily what you can’t fit, and before you know it, his hot, creamy load coats your tongue and paints your mouth white.

Eric’s head is thrown back, abs and jaw clenching as his release creates spasms throughout his entire body, sighing your name over and over weakly like a mantra.

His cum feels hot, thick, and sticky in your mouth. His release tastes slightly sweet, and you swirl and swish it around your mouth before swallowing as much as you can.

Your eyes are heavy lidded as you gently suck the head of his cock like a lollipop in attempt to drink up every last drop of his cum. You bring your lips to the tip and kiss it a few times, rubbing his balls tenderly to soothe him.

“Atta’ girl. Good fucking girl.” Eric praises you, groaning with a raspy voice.

You huff out a breath as you remove yourself entirely from his length. Wetness from tears decorates your eyelashes and stains your cheeks, vision somewhat blurred from all the work you put on his cock. Drool mixed with Eric’s cum is dripping down your lips and chin, and you continue to let spit fall, your mouth open with eyes closed as you try to calm yourself.

Looking at you, Eric feels numb in the head seeing you all fucked in the face from his cock. What a gorgeous sight.

After a few seconds, you both slowly start to calm down your uneven breathing. Your hand goes to wipe off whatever is left on your face, but not before Eric tuts at you and carefully hoists you up against him, his lips attaching against your own in a beat of his heart. Both of your lips move hungrily in sync and you moan into the kiss.

“You did so well, princess. You were such a good girl for me. The most perfect girl, and all mine.” he growls in between kisses as he tastes your saliva mixed with his own cum, and places you on his lap. Your hands go to wrap around his neck and one of his hands smooths over the fat of your middle, massaging it lovingly while his other hand rests on your neck. You shift a bit as he does so, gasping once you become aware of how damp and creamy your bottoms are. Eric seems to feel your wetness over his dick, grinning as the tip of your ears turn red and your cheeks flush pink in embarrassment.

“Aw, my pretty girl is all soaked ‘cause of me?” his hand goes to play with the flesh of your ass and you whine at his words. He kisses your cheeks sweetly and nuzzles his nose against your own. His heart feels so full to be so close to you like this. To have you in his arms and sharing intimate moments is a dream come true. You feel the same as he embraces you and is so gentle to you, feeling so loved by your best friend turned boyfriend.

“Can’t wait to take you on a date and treat you like the princess you are.” he whispers. “Then, when you’re ready, i’ll be sure to make you cum as hard as you made me. Sound’s good, baby?” Eric murmurs and you grab a hold of his chin, ready to plant another kiss on his lips before the sound of a ring causes you both to jolt up.

Eric groans, eyes rolling back in annoyance as he twists his head to see that it’s his phone ringing. You press a quick kiss to his jawline as he answers it, massaging his scalp while he talks on the phone.

“Hello… Oh, you’re here?— I’ll be right out!… Sorry to keep you waiting… Okay thanks, bye!”

“Shit, the pizza’s here.” Your eyes go wide as you register the call and his words and you quickly get off Eric. He rushes to put on his swim shorts and immediately bolts inside to get the food at the front door, leaving you outside by yourself.

You laugh at how fast he scurries off and then you sigh at the feeling of you bottoms sticking to your core within all the wetness. “I hope he lets me borrow a pair of boxers or something.” you say out loud to yourself as you make your way inside, ready to dig into some real food.

As much as Eric’s meat filled your mouth up nicely, you could use a couple slices of pizza to now fill up your empty stomach.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

[slayfics]

Katsuki reaches out to you after ghosting you.

Katsuki rested his head back on the headrest in the car chauffeuring him to his hotel. He had been on this mission for 11 days now on the other side of the country than he was used to. He was thankful this mission had a driver who specifically worked with chauffeuring heroes around. It meant not running into Uber drivers that were fans. Most importantly, the agency that assigned the chauffeur to Katsuki knew to pick out drivers who didn't make small talk.

Katsuki put in his earphones for the drive wanting to drown out the day's events in music. The problem was he had no idea what the hell to listen to. That's when he wondered. Were you awake? Were you listening to something?

Back in U.A., you, Eijiro, and Denki bugged the crap out of him until he agreed to join you all in a dumb-ass video game you three were obsessed with. He hated video games and thought they were a waste of time. But, he gave in just so you all would shut up. He even made a Discord to join in voice chat.

Although, It didn't take long for him to get angry at the game and accidentally explode his computer. He still kept the Discord app, however, and even installed it on his phone. From time to time he looked to see if you all still joined in the same voice chat to play whatever game caught your interest. The times he saw you all talking were few and far between now that everyone was busy with hero work. He had noticed though, that whenever you listened to Spotify it showed on Discord what song you were listening to.

From time to time when he was away on extended missions he'd look to see what you were listening to. It was hard when he was away. He knew he wasn't good at words. Honestly, he'd rather shoot himself than call you and say some dumb mushy shit like he missed you. Sometimes he hated that he was this way. He'd seen Eijiro communicate so easily with Mina every time he was away, why couldn't he be like that? Why was this shit so hard for him?

Katsuki opened his discord and saw you were indeed listening to Spotify. He clicked on your username and it popped up that you were listening to Shirt by SZA. He navigated to his own Spotify to play the same song and read the lyrics along with the song. Some of the lyrics jumped out at him.

Kiss me, dangerous Been so lost without you all around me

In the dark right now Feeling lost, but I like it

Is that how you felt about him? Lost and in the dark? Did his actions when he was with you not carry through the space and time when his hero work kept him away from you?

He knew he should have called you, texted you, or something in the past 11 days he was gone but- You could have called him too. Damn it. Why did you both have to be so fucking stubborn? Katsuki inhaled sharply. He was probably just thinking too much about it. Even though he hadn't listened well to this song before, he knew it was popular at the moment. That was probably the only reason you were listening to it. He was being too egotistical making it about him. Surly you were fine while he was gone.

The song ended and he navigated back to Discord to see what song you were listening to now. That's when his eyes widened, grip tightened on his phone, breath caught in his throat. You were listening to that damn stupid song the class of 1A played at the summer festival. The one he played the drums in all those years ago.

You were thinking about him. Fuck. He ran his hands over his face frustrated with himself. If he were more like Eijiro even that fucking idiot Midoriya, you'd never question how he felt about you because he'd be able to say easily and gracefully. The fact was though, that just wasn't him, and he just couldn't. Simple as that. However, this did give him the slap in the face he needed to reach out to you.

Katsuki opened his messages and scrolled down to his text thread with you to type out a message.

I'll be back next week, what are your days off?

He watched anxiously as three dots appeared while you typed. Would you tell him off for not reaching out to you for almost two weeks? Would you accuse him of not caring?

I have Monday and Tuesday off.

Can I see you Monday?

Your next response left a lump in his throat and mist in his eyes.

You can see me whenever you want Katsuki.

You were too forgiving of him, too patient and he knew he didn't deserve it. You deserved someone who could say all that fucking cheesy shit, someone that didn't ghost you for two weeks because they were afraid of their feelings. But for some reason, you never seemed to mind, and you always welcomed him back in. He tried so fucking hard to show it when he was there, and he hoped that you were seeing it. He was trying. In the best way that he could.

Tags: @unofficialmuilover

[kamiversee]

➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏

✧.* CHAPTER 28 || The Effect You Have

[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?

[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language & fluff.

[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 4.1k

[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.

[ [ chapters mlist } ]

——IT ALL BEGAN SO SIMPLE. Once Gojo got you home, he opened the trunk of his car to reveal the fifteen dresses he'd purchased for you, all of which he forgot to tell you had also been tailored for you as well.

He left that part out because the two of you had gone to get a dress tailored once just a few days ago. The dress you wore to Sukuna's party was specifically tweaked to fit you perfectly and after that, Gojo took the extra step of having the tailor keep your measurements for future dresses.

It was a detail he decided to leave out because he'd been planning for this for a while now and he didn't want you to think he was weird in any way-- even though the gesture was rather nice of him. Gojo was also sure to leave out how expensive each dress actually was, never wanting to reveal the fact that he'd spent his entire bank account on you if he could.

You went upstairs first, carrying only one dress with you as you did so. When you got into your apartment, you quickly noticed that Shoko had left some time ago, giving you the space for a while. Since it's a Friday, you recall that she has one class and then usually likes to go out and do something right after.

Within minutes after you walk into your apartment, Gojo is entering with the remaining dresses piled up in his hands. You would've helped him carry more but he insisted otherwise.

He takes all the dresses into your room and places them on your bed, just as you instruct him to. Once he's done, the man goes ahead and seats himself onto your mattress with an expectant look in his eyes.

You blink, one dress still in your hands as you wonder why Gojo's looking at you in such a patient way, "What? Why are you still sitting there...?" You ask simply.

Gojo shrugs, "I mean I didn't buy all those dresses for no reason..."

You scoff out a laugh, "Ohh, you want me to try on the dresses for you?"

He flashes you this innocent little smile, "Mhm..."

You narrow your eyes at him, "You'd see the dress whenever I wear it though..."

"That's not true, I'm not gonna be at this nightclub every time you go, I'm just taking you tonight since it's your first time there," Gojo explains.

You stare for a second, then nod, "Uhuh... Fine then, I guess I'll try on the dresses for you..."

He smiles, "Let me know if you need help putting them on-"

"You're not slick, Satoru," You cut off as you turn and dip into your bathroom.

The sound of him chuckling is heard as you move around and begin to change yourself into the first dress. Like all the others, the dress is beautiful and so obviously expensive, despite whatever Gojo tells you about it not being pricey.

You're careful to put the item on, quickly noticing how it fits like a glove and how pretty it looks on you. This first dress is silk and dark blue, almost royal blue, backless, and rather enticing. Just looking at yourself in it makes you feel odd.

The dress you wore to Sukuna's party was one thing, after all, you've been to plenty of parties before so it was your typical dark red party dress. But this dress... Well, you know Gojo said the club was pretty fancy but based on this first dress and the glimpse you caught of the other ones, it seems like classy is what you're gonna have to go for.

When you consider yourself to be done, you open the bathroom door with your eyes down on the dress as your free hand moves to smooth it out. Gojo's eyes are all over you instantly and when you look up, you're not too surprised to see him moving to get off the bed.

"Why are you getting up?" You chuckle, watching him casually approach you.

Gojo's soon standing in front of you, towering over you like always, "I needed a closer look."

"You might need glasses because I'm pretty sure anyone could've seen everything perfectly fine from my bed," You say in response.

He smiles and tilts his head at you, "Gimme a spin."

You fold your arms under your chest, "Say please."

"Please?" Gojo utters as if it were second nature to do so.

With a roll of your eyes, you slowly turn yourself around and give him a full three-sixty of the dress. Gojo's got this big stupidly happy smile on his face as you do so as if he couldn't be more at peace watching you perform such a simple act.

When you're done and come to a stop facing him once more, he's still smiling at you. "Well?" You ask.

"Y'know I'm gonna say you look beautiful in everything, right?" He sighs, the look in his eyes just dripping with affection.

You swallow, "Then what's the point of me trying all these on...?"

"I'm gonna help you figure out which one you should wear tonight!" He says cheerfully, "Gotta' make sure you make a good first impression on Nanami."

A brow is raised in question, "You do know he's seen me before, right?"

Gojo does this gesture with his hand as if to wave off what you just said, "That doesn't count."

"Right, sure it doesn't." You say, shaking your head at him.

"Oh, I also bought you shoes," Gojo suddenly tells you, turning away and heading back over to your bed.

You watch with wide eyes as he flops down onto your mattress, "What? Why?"

"Uh, to go with the dresses, sweetheart." He hums.

"Well, where are they?"

"Check your closet," Gojo says, laying down on his back and staring up at your ceiling, "Shoko said they came earlier this morning."

You blink, not sure how exactly to react just yet. It's so unusual for you to get spoiled like this. It's one thing for him to buy you a dress every now and then, and another thing for him to pay you for your sinful acts but to go out of his way and purchase this much for you is just...

New.

Your feet move to your closet and the second you open it, you're met with a shitload of new shoeboxes. "Wh-What the hell..." You say softly.

Gojo sits up slightly, holding his body up with his elbow and looking in your direction, "Hm?"

"Satoru..." You whisper, your eyes darting all over the fifteen different boxes of shoes in front of you. "You didn't really..."

"I did," He hums, "I swear they aren't as expensive as you think they are-"

"Shut up," You cut off. He closes his mouth quickly and you crouch down to the first box that catches your eye. "Satoru, these are Christian Louboutins...."

"Oh, I forgot I got those..." He replies.

You move the box around in your hand to inspect the item, "They're like a thousand dollars for each pair on average..."

"Okay...?"

Your eyes go to the other boxes nearby, "I'm seeing seven different pairs..."

"Seven different colors," Gojo explains with a casual shrug.

You take a second to reply, wondering what the hell is wrong with this man and trying to figure out why he'd go out of his way like this. "That's roughly seven thousand dollars on just shoes." You point out after some quick estimates made.

"Okay.....?" He chuckles, "They're shoes for you."

Your heart throbs in your chest in reaction to his emphasis on the shoes being for you-- as if he were implying that the price will never matter if it's something for you. Carefully, you place the box back down, too scared to even open it and look just yet.

"I..." You release a sigh, "I don't understand you..."

For a moment, Gojo goes quiet. You can't see his face so you don't catch how his expression grows worried. He feels like you may even be upset with him for a moment, which is the exact opposite of what he'd hoped to achieve with this.

After a moment of thought, "Is it too much...?" He asks softly.

"Yes, yes it is." Your response is quick and you go on to ramble immediately, "Why the hell would you buy all this for me just for me to go to one little nightclub? There are thousands of other heels you could've bought for me that aren't nearly as expensive. I'm gonna feel like I'm literally walking on eggshells the entire night because of how expensive these are. What if I break them? What if they get dirty-"

"So..." Gojo cuts you off, raising a brow, "I should've bought you a backup pair for each shoe?"

He sounds so genuinely confused that it's almost funny. "No Satoru, you shouldn't have bought me anything this expensive to begin with." You say calmly.

He blinks, "Why not?"

"I..." You sigh again, "It's weird."

"Weird how?" Gojo questions, not understand your reaction at all. He thought you'd be happy about this kinda thing, he's seen the way your eyes light up whenever he pays you so what's the difference here? "I'm buying things for the woman I love, what's so weird about that?" He questions.

"Stop saying that."

His brows pinch together, "What? That I love you? Or, that you're the woman I love?"

"It's all the same, just stop." You tell him.

"Why?"

"Because..." Your words fall off your tongue as you lose the reasoning behind why you want to hear him stop uttering such a phrase.

Every time he says those things it's like you can hear the truth behind his words. Almost as if in no universe could you deny the fact that you wholeheartedly believe he's in love with you. And for some reason, that belief of yours confuses you.

Gojo grins a little, "Because what sweetheart?"

"I don't know how to feel when you say things like that." You finally explain.

"There's no right or wrong way to feel, y'know..."

You shrug, "Well, it makes me feel... weird."

A sneaky little smile spreads across his face, "Is it because you love me t-"

"No." You deny it instantly.

"Alright then," Gojo sighs, "What is it?"

"Sympathetic." You correct him, somewhat figuring out what it is you feel as he utters those three words to you.

"Huh?"

"Every time you say that you love me or do things that make me feel like you love me... I begin to feel sympathy for you." Your explanation makes his heart race for some unknown reason.

Gojo swallows, "W-Why?"

"Cause' it's like... the things you do are making up for the bullshit you make me do. A-And it's all so fucked up because the last thing I want to feel is sympathy for my blackmailer." You stammer, steadily getting worked up over this small conversation.

Gojo lets out a sigh of relief and then smiles softly, even though you're not looking at him yet, "Listen, I'm not spoiling you like this because I want you to forgive me for what I've done. I... I don't ever expect to make up for it. But, if getting you new expensive things can put a smile on your face, even if only for a second, I'd sell a limb to be able to provide that for you."

Your head whips around to the man, "What?"

"Anything," Gojo says, meeting your gaze. He's so serious that it's almost dark the way he looks at you, "I'd do anything for you."

There's this sharp feeling in your chest. It's like you could feel the gravity of his words weighing your heart down. Almost as though, you knew he was serious.

Nearly overwhelmed by his seriousness, you quickly turn your head away, "I appreciate that..." You murmur, unsure of a better way to respond.

"Great-"

"But," You interrupt, "I don't understand why."

"Those three words." Gojo explains, "That's why."

"Because you love me?" You ask.

"Mhm." He hums in response.

"Well," You slowly begin to stand up and move out of your closet. "I don't understand that either."

Gojo watches as you grab another dress to try on and take it into the bathroom. He gets how you find his feelings for you confusing and has no intentions of explaining them just yet so instead, he results in saying something rather simple.

"Love isn't meant to be understood, sweets," Gojo tells you just before you shut the bathroom door.

You merely hum in response to that and the rest of you trying on dresses goes pretty smoothly.

With each dress, he'd comment on either how the material looks good on you or how the color makes a certain feature of yours stand out, all of his comments well thought out and making you feel all warm inside. You eventually even start trying on the heels with these dresses and each outfit is something you never thought you'd find yourself wearing.

Not that they didn't fit your usual style or anything but the prices that followed the items you wore were just something you'd never given yourself the leisure of even looking at. So to have such pretty and expensive items on your body and in your closet felt really nice.

Eventually, you land on the last dress. The color alone made you not want to wear it because simply looking at it reminded you of that morning you spent with Gojo. It was baby blue and rather small on you. There were these thin spaghetti straps that went over your shoulders, a decent amount of cleavage was revealed, and once you got down to how it just barely stopped at your thighs, there was this small slit in it.

It was cute and when you turned around, you noticed it hugged your ass nicely. Even so, you didn't want to reveal yourself in it to Gojo because you had a feeling you knew what his reaction would be.

"It's been fifteen minutes, love. Need some help?" Gojo calls out from the other side of your bathroom door.

You looked to the bottom of the door and noticed his shadow was there, smiling to yourself at how he so clearly knew you were purposefully taking a while. "No, I don't need help..."

"Thennnn what's taking you so long?" He hums.

"Nothing." You say before moving to open the door.

You're quickly met with Gojo standing there, leaning against your doorframe like always with a little smile on his face. His eyes are on your face, not yet dropping down to the dress.

Slowly, he allows himself to get a look at you and you watch the way he smiles. "You are so..."

"Beautiful?" You finish, having heard him say the same thing for the past hour or so, "Yeah, I know-"

"Perfect," Gojo corrects, "You're absolutely perfect."

You roll your eyes at his compliment for the millionth time, "Whatever."

He moves a hand to your waist and suddenly pulls your body close to his. Your chest presses up against him and your eyes frantically search his in question of why he's suddenly touching you.

Then, you catch that look in his gaze that you haven't seen in a while. It's the look that makes your knees go weak, that begging and pleading look of his that so clearly tells you he wants his lips on yours. You hate the way you recognize it so quickly now.

Gojo leans down to you, his arm slithering all the way around your waist, "This is the one." He whispers to you.

You blink, "The one what?"

"The dress you should wear tonight," He clarifies.

"Why? Does Nanami like blue or something?" You ask curiously.

Gojo shrugs, "I think so."

"Oh.." You murmur, watching as Gojo's face nears yours.

He stops himself just an inch away from your lips, his head tilted and his eyes low on yours. He doesn't say anything just yet, simply looking at your lips with the strong desire to place his own over them.

"Can I..." He trails off a little, almost as if he's nervous to ask his question.

You don't know why but you just nod, permitting him to kiss you.

What was it about this man that made you miss the feeling of his lips over yours? You don't know. You have no idea why every time Gojo's lips press into yours and you kiss him, your knees go weak, your brain stops working, and you feel so drowned in love.

You don't feel the same for him but damnit you can't deny how much you enjoy the way he kisses you. Sometimes, like right now, it's gentle and slow, his lips carefully and strategically moving over your own until his tongue is in your mouth, affectionately making out with you as his hand travels up and down your back.

Other times it's hot and heavy, both of you chasing the feeling of each other's lips as if time will one day stop you from feeling that connection.

Currently, you find yourself lost in his kisses, panting softly by the time he pulls away and both of you moving in for more just as quickly as you pulled away. So lost in it, you don't even think as he eases you into your bathroom and lifts you onto the counter, his lips desperate against your own.

Gojo's not kissing you like he wants to have sex with you or anything, he's kissing you like he just enjoys the feeling just as much as you. It's like he melts into your mouth, releasing small hums and even smaller whines into your parted lips as he sinks into the moment.

His hands go to your face, cupping your cheeks in his hand and kissing you like his life depends on it, and as if he's worried you'll slip away from his grasp at any given moment. After which, Gojo's hands would be on your thighs, sliding up your legs and just barely going up and under the dress, eager to just feel your skin.

As he does so, you think you get dizzy when he pulls away just to whisper, "I love you," In the lowest voice you've heard from him.

And it's not just one time he does that, it's constant that he breaks the kiss just to whisper those three words into your lips as if he wants you to never forget it as if he needs to chant the phrase in order to pass the needed level of understanding behind it.

"So much," Gojo utters, "I love you so fucking much." His lips are back on yours within the next second, needy tongue shoving into your mouth that you so gratefully accept.

You're unsure of what you've done to make this man be so deeply in love with you like this. Maybe the day you find out, you may reciprocate the feeling but as of now, the the only thing you can do in response to his repeated claims is kiss him back.

You could never utter those three words back to him. I love you. It's a phrase you've reserved for someone else. A sentence in which you direct toward an entirely different man. Even now as you make out with Gojo, you still think of who's stolen your heart.

Somewhere deep down inside, you tell yourself that it should be him instead. It should be Choso telling you that right now. It should be him holding you so lovingly, kissing you so tenderly, and longing for you the way Gojo does.

That's who you should be with at this very moment and yet, there you were, against Gojo's lips hearing how in love with you he claims to be.

As of now, you could only await the day in which you'd be where you're supposed to be.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

After about forty straight minutes of locked lips with Gojo Satoru, the two of you eventually pry yourself off of each other. You hadn't even realized you kissed him so long and you didn't even notice the way your lips made it to his neck at one point.

It was almost subconscious the way you left hickeys on his neck, marks that he had no intention of stopping you from making. Gojo actually held your head at his neck at one point, thriving in the feeling of you against him.

When the two of you were done, you watched him admire the work you'd left on his neck as he gazed in the mirror. His fingers traced over each one and the man wishes he could keep them there forever. To have evidence of you on his skin was something he'd wish to keep forever.

Even so, the two of you eventually left the bathroom and it was decided that the final dress you tried on was what you were going to wear that night.

Gojo left later that afternoon and told you he'd be back to pick you up when it was time to go. You still didn't quite understand why it was so important for him to take you there but you didn't argue with him about it.

Shoko eventually stopped home later that afternoon and she teased you about going out for the second night in a row. This time, even though she wasn't going with you, she went ahead and got ready with you-- the two of you helping one another with makeup and accessories.

She even made a comment on the dress you were wearing, saying that it was really pretty on you and that she loved the color. She also not-so-sneakily made a comment on how she recalls Gojo having a tie from high school that matches it but you brushed her words off.

And of course, to your surprise, the tie in question ends up being around the neck of Gojo Satoru when he comes to pick you up. Why would he match his tie with your dress? You don't know and you didn't care enough to ask. It's not like you and him would be side by side throughout the night anyway, you were supposed to be meeting Nanami.

The nightclub in which you were set to be was located all the way across town and the drive took forever. The ride was filled with low music and Gojo telling you things he thinks Nanami would look for in a woman.

He tells you that you have to be careful not to be too bold with him because Nanami may misinterpret what you've approached him for, going on to tell you how the guy apparently gets hit on a lot and turns a lot of people down. So basically, you'll have to be careful with your flirting.

You take a mental note of everything he's saying and by the time you get there, you think you're ready for the whole thing. You've only seen Nanami twice, once in a photo and another in person but you could spot the man in a crowded room since he has rather distinguishing features.

Plus, Gojo told you he'd be at the bar and probably the furthest away from the dancefloor so you'd most likely find him there.

Even so, Gojo wanted to at least be in the building with you so he walked you to the door and entered the building with you. The man even gave the bouncer at the entrance a death glare for ogling you. After that, the two of you entered and you quickly noted how fancy the place really was.

It wasn't your typical club with people partying and drinking all over the place or loud music blaring throughout the building. Instead, there were people dressed very classy and almost elegant in certain areas. The dancefloor was filled with a few couples, all of whom danced to some slow jam.

You actually liked the scene in front of you. The only thing you felt nervous about was looking out of place. Luckily, by Gojo's side, you fit right in since he was wearing a suit and pulled himself together rather nicely. But, you wouldn't be around him the entire night.

And that was what worried you.

GOJO SATORU ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

GETO SUGURU ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

TOJI FUSHIGURO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙈𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙪𝙢

KAMO CHOSO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙎𝙚𝙢𝙞-𝙈𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙪𝙢 / 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

ZEN'IN NAOYA ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙭𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙡𝙮 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

ITADORI SUKUNA ☐ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙎𝙚𝙢𝙞-𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮???

NANAMI KENTO ☐ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: ???

mlist || previous chapt || next chpt

[nanaminokanojo]

Honey, Oh Sugar, Sugar

JJK men as your sugar daddies and what happens when you tell them you're breaking​ things off cause you've secretly fallen for them and "breached" the contract. Or me just being hung up on the whole concept of sugar daddies cause I don’t wanna work anymore and I need Nanami in my life.

Characters: Nanami, Toji, Gojo x you/afab reader TW/CW: angst | smut/implied smut | sorta dubcon | age gaps | aged up characters | kind fluffy | mentions of alcohol/drugs | some mafia stuff | mdni Word Count: 8.1k

MASTERLIST

NANAMI

'I can't see you right now.'

Those words glared at you, sharp black slashes that marred the white backdrop of your screen. They may not carry much weight without context, but they broke you a thousand times weighed on you like the sky had fallen over, crushing you as you heard the voice behind the words, making you regret every other choice you've made so far.

They blurred out as tears started to flood your eyes, falling on the device in your hand, but the pain they caused didn't fade in the least. If anything, you felt exponentially worse, enough to make you wish for death. It was more for the fact that you knew it was your fault, a result of your weakness and lack of prudence, your over-estimation of yourself and biting off more than you can chew. 

Still, how were you to know back then? How the fuck were you supposed to know that things would end up making you feel as miserable as you did? How the fuck could you have been able to tell that you'd be wishing to tear yourself away from the only thing that seemed to make your life make sense? 

If you were told that gods existed and walked in Prussian blue button-downs and khaki shorts as they surveyed their domain from the balcony of their private beach houses, you wouldn't have believed it. But Nanami Kento came into your life in that same exact form, a stoic, tall blonde, ten years your senior, successful in all his endeavors but always too busy for anything. 

Nanami Kento was your best friend's neighbor – at least at their beach-front rest house. It was funny how he was supposed to be this well-known yet aloof individual in the community. And yet, the moment you were introduced to him, he purposefully made a way to be around you where you fell into easy conversation with him. Your friend told you their neighbor hardly ever stayed at his summer retreat for longer than two days, popping out one day only to be replaced by the caretakers who would then tell them that "Nanami-san had an emergency business trip." On top of that, he never really showed up when your friend's parents would invite him for whatever, consistently declining politely, but because of you, he finally honored one of their invitations. 

However, it made you wonder what he found so interesting in a university student like you when his life was so much more exciting, being the founder of his own company. He was a bachelor at thirty two, and he's got everything figured out while you were in the final year of your higher education, and you still didn't know what to do with your life. 

The reason became evident when you met him again after insisting that you should before you parted that evening at the beach, even leaving you his calling card. 

How your conversation went from how his work was going and how your studies were to his proposition for you to be basically his sugar baby was something you couldn't fathom at that time. He just went on about coming clean and expressing his real intentions, then later asked you to think about it before dishing out a conversation about how the two of you should meet again to draft the parameters of your arrangement. Nanami later apologized, smiling apologetically for startling you – the biggest understatement of the century – adding that he wasn't one to beat around the bush. 

"I hope I didn't scare you away," he said when dropping you off to campus.

A week later, you signed a contract with him, and then he kissed you, taking your breath away instead of shaking your hand to seal your pact. Everything went smoothly. It seemed a good idea back then. Boy you wished there was a time when you could have been more mistaken in your life. 

You let out a mirthless laugh as you realized you were at the end of the rope regarding Nanami. You cannot handle it anymore when, for the past half year, you've been putting off talking to him about the state of matters from your end. You know you're breaching your agreement, which is a testament to the reality of your liaisons. You failed at keeping it emotionless, evidently, and every single time you think about coming clean and facing rejection, you felt like cowering in fear. 

You already know how binding those agreements were. Nanami had been clear about what he wanted, and you also agreed because you thought you wanted precisely that – an arrangement without commitment, one you can easily get out of without issues. He would not want you if he knew the truth, and although it took far too much strength and courage to accept it, you managed. But now that you have finally decided to speak to him, he tells you he can't be there. Then again, you didn't even have the right to demand his time. 

It came in a cocktail of emotions when you realized you didn't want his money or anything else he had to offer. You only wanted one thing: his heart. Too bad it was off the table. It's not something he offered to ever be in your contract. 

You hated yourself for being weak, for opening up when you should have remained frozen even towards him. But you couldn't help it when your heart started confusing his caring side for actual feelings over his usual acts of reminding you that he was still the older one between you and actually had the responsibility to take care of you whether you've got an arrangement or not.

You sure as hell didn't regret the perks that came with it – trips to any place you could name, things you get with just one word, and the amazing love-making that came with it. Nanami was a great lover. It never just felt like sex in a transactional manner. It always showed how much of a sensitive soul he is, how much he cared for you. But it's not exactly in the way you wanted it.

"I like you, and I enjoy your company, but being me, this is all I can offer at the moment."

Those were his words, and though it's not explicitly written in the contract, you knew it was over when you started perceiving him as the center of your universe. That was no good, and maybe he knew, considering how he had been "too preoccupied" when you said you wanted to talk. Suddenly, he didn't have time for you, but you wanted to tell him of your decision to end matters in person. He deserved that, at least. Nanami was just too good, and you didn't want him to do the guesswork.

That same night, you walked out of the luxury flat he rented for you, packing a bottle of wine, which you ended up drinking at your best friend's house.

You woke up the next day, still groggy from all the alcohol you drank, to the sound of your best friend speaking angrily to someone in hushed tones. She was telling someone off and threatening them about answering if something ends badly, but then you hear your name.

"Y/N's a really sensitive person underneath regardless of what she says," she tells whoever she is talking to. You don't hear the response to her statement, but there was a long pause, and then you hear the front door open and close with her declaration to give this person their space.

It wasn't long before the guest room door opened, and you found yourself face-to-face with Nanami. You motioned to get up, but he shook his head and sat beside you on the bed.

"Why did you leave?" he asked, straight to the point as always. You didn't expect anything less, but you couldn't look him in the eye as you said, "I can't do this anymore." 

Much to his surprise, you started crying the moment you spoke. It was so atypical of you to show him any kind of weakness, always so independent in your actions and words that he felt useless at times, so he found the need to reach out and hold you.

You flinched. "Please don't."

Nanami sighed, running his fingers through his usually perfect hair. For the first time, you notice how it's not fixed the way it should be and how he has dark rings under his eyes, his cheeks a bit sunken. He looked at you, expressions unfathomable, but you saw how he clenched and unclenched his fists.

"Why not?"

His question angered you, that much he could tell, and it was obvious how you were trying your very best to calm down. You sat up and he felt the need to brace himself for whatever you will say.

"I'm ending this...this..."

"Arrangement," he supplied for you, to which you nodded, the sting of that word evident on your face. "Yes, that."

He nodded in understanding, but he stared you down with a pensive look on his handsome face, and you wanted just to run before you fell even harder. "May I at least know why?"

You bit your lower lip, looking elsewhere but him as your eyes filled with fresh tears. You didn't know how on earth you were going to explain it to him in detail, but as he gave it to you straight and simple, you thought it best to do the same. It would be self-explanatory anyway.

Wringing your fingers, you all but whispered, "Kento, I'm in love with you." When he didn't speak, you started rambling on about how you knew things wouldn't change if you said it and that he's got more important things to deal with over your "childish feelings" but that you can't help it.

"Say that again," he told you.

"What?" You didn't realize he had moved closer, his face merely inches from yours and his other arm caging you on your spot.

"The first thing you said. Say it again." He sounded commanding as he was used to, but then he let his forehead rest on your shoulder, feeling defeated. "Please?" he said, sounding small, unsure.

You wiped the tears off your face, sniffling. You've resigned yourself to the bad outcomes of your actions. "I'm in love with you."

"If that's the case, wouldn't you want to be with me?"

"Because you said you could only offer me this arrangement."

At that, he looked up at you, cupping your face with his hands and staring you straight in the eyes, eyes you couldn't lie to. You were somewhat surprised that he didn't have a single clue as to what had been ailing you as perceptive as he was. Then again, maybe you were just too good at hiding it until you weren't, everything hidden behind the smokescreen of your physical intimacy and the pretty smiles you would offer his way.

"Be honest with me. Did it ever feel like it's just that?" he asked cautiously, groping for words.

This time, you couldn't hold back and began tearing up again, your anger finally rearing itself on the surface. "That's exactly the problem!" You pried his hands off of you and stood up. "I can't figure you out, and I don't want to be confused anymore. We had an agreement, I know that, and I'm sorry, but it hurts too much knowing you can give me anything I ask for but not what I want the most."

He also stood up, invading your space and pulling you towards him. He wasn't about to just lose you, not without a fight. Nanami made you look at him, his arm around your waist tight as he commanded your attention but still gentle and giving you your leeway to run if you wanted. You, on the other hand, didn't need much restraining nor convincing as you found yourself looking into his eyes and wanting nothing but to be close and be able to hold him, own him and all that he is, love him, and love him hard, love him over and over again, surrender your heart and let him have you even if you knew he could never give it back.

But all your notions were dispelled with a few choice words. "You never asked."

"I – what?"

"The thing you want the most that you claimed I can't give you. You never asked for it."

Ah. You chuckled without humor. Of course, it's on you for not asking. "Because I can't! That's not how it works. It's not my place to ask. I've no place of that nature in your life."

"Really now, Y/N?" Nanami looked stung, annoyed even, when typically, he wouldn't even show you a disapproving look at your worst behavior around him.

"It's okay. This is on me." You stepped back from him, resigning yourself to the idea of not seeing him again and saying goodbye. "And I know you're busy, so don't worry about me. I just really wanted to tell you personally, at least. I'll be fine."

"I won't be..."

"Stop it! You said so yourself –"

"I said 'at the moment' back then if I remember it correctly?"

You shrugged. "Kento, you don't have to hyper-analyze what you said back then. Don't stress –"

At that, his expressions changed, and he appeared manic, so different from his calm and composed demeanor. "This is stressing me out."

"I'm sorry."

"I love you."

You shook your head. Pity was the last thing you needed, and hearing those words in such a context, even less so. "No, you don't."

"Yes, I do. You can't just assume things like that. And though I detest confrontations like this, I'm prepared to be in conflict with you for it if it means you stay with me."

You smiled ruefully at him, coming closer to hug him, holding onto whatever you could while you still had time, taking in the way he smelled, the way his hair felt against your palms. "You're really too nice. Don't say things like that even if you feel bad for me. You don't have to."

Nanami sighed again, looking absolutely tired, but had it in him to smile despite your words. "Y/N, I just got the shovel talk with your best friend after I told her I love you – rather graphic, too – and you're telling me you don't have a place in my life? I would not even be here if you didn't matter to me. You, of all people, should know that I don't waste my time on things I don't find worthwhile, but I am here, am I not?"

You felt your heart thundering in your chest as you minced his words, unable to process everything at the moment, but you found yourself overwhelmed with joy that your feelings weren't one-sided. "You are."

"But you're right, so let's end this arrangement."

Swallowing hard, you nodded.

"Let's make this the real thing without agreements and roles. What do you say about that?" He tilted his head to have a closer look at you. 

Everything be damned, but you were taking your chances. "Okay," you whispered.

"I love you. I'm in love with you, too. If it's my heart you want, you can have it. It's yours. All yours, my sweet."

You bit your lower lip, fighting a smile as you glanced at him from under your lashes, not trusting yourself to speak.

Nanami leaned his forehead against yours, closing his eyes as he held you closer. "I love you," he repeated.

"I know."

He chuckled. "Now you know. But that's not what I want to hear, Y/N. I said, I love you."

Instead of a response, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him close as you stood on your toes to claim his lips with yours, your toes curling as he reciprocated in kind. This one felt different, not like some sort of transaction or a thank you for the things he provides for you. It felt like the real thing...like love.

"Then I love you, too."

TOJI

"She's an associate, Y/N. Stop being such a brat," Toji tells you the moment he arrived at the penthouse where he was housing you a good hour after you stormed out of the party he was hosting. You looked over your shoulder to find his tall, broad form leaning against the doorpost, arms crossed and...smirking.

"Or are you doing this on purpose 'cause you want daddy to punish you, hmm?"

You scoffed as you angrily wiped your tears, entering the walk-in wardrobe and slamming the door shut. You just wanted to be away from him, be able to think without him influencing your thoughts. If Fushiguro Toji was a drug, he'd most certainly be heroin – absolutely addictive with slim chances to none in terms of recovery, but you still wanted more, more, and some more. And you fell right into that trap, very much aware of it all.

You were a budding freelance journalist who got into a tangle with his organization after a wrong lead. He had been nice to you on the get-go, the understanding and very accommodating kumicho letting Miss Nosey off the hook. You kept running into him after that until one drunken evening at one of his clubs, where he had to rescue you from a guy who couldn't take no for an answer.

He drove you home, and instead of getting out of his car, the two of you got talking, and he started showing you pictures of his adorable son. And after fucking you senseless in that same car, he offered you an arrangement you thought you couldn't refuse at that time.

Slowly, you found yourself weaving into Toji's complicated life and seeing beyond just the ruthless gang leader who showered you with everything and anything he could give. The sky is the limit where Toji was concerned, and he was outrageous about the presents he would give you. But that always came with a catch. He took as much as he gave, probably more, and he was possessive of you. It wasn't healthy how he could do whatever the fuck he wanted while your rewards came with limitations attached to them.

Still, you stayed and got lost in the maze that was the workings of his mind and his personal life, which was just about his little boy. You instantly fell in love with Megumi and, in the process, with Toji himself. You know that now without a doubt, and it scared the living daylights out of you.

That realization came gradually. At first, you chalked it up to just a physical response, inducing chemicals in your head that gave you the illusion and delusion of emotional affection. What's love got to do with it, right? At first, it was little things like wanting to see him at the most random times of the day, missing him, and such. Then it escalated into incremental degrees of possessiveness, which you thought was fair given his inclination to call you his, be that in words while he's balls-deep in you or the way he would suddenly hold onto you with those large hands in the presence of others.

And quite frankly, you seemed to have picked up on that habit the wrong way, learning to reciprocate in the same way. It was messy business at best, but then again, it started just as messy.

The thought and reality of it hadn't felt as real as it did when you saw another woman clutching just as possessively at his arm. It seemed innocent, but seeing those blood-red nails brushing on his muscled arms as if their owner had any right to do it or had probably staked their claim made your blood boil, and your heart break. All the while, in your head, you were repetitively saying, "He's mine. I had him first."

You're in love with him, and that's a fact. Because why else would you be having such intense emotional outbursts over the fact that he was dangling another woman in his arms? It's a fact you didn't want to face anyway. He's supposed to be your sugar daddy, nothing else. It came with its perks, but you're human, and Toji is irresistible in more ways than one and never limited to just how he satisfies you physically. You loved him, his son and everything that he is included.

And you thought it had to stop. He didn't see you that way.

You emerged from the wardrobe, pulling a suitcase behind you, and suddenly, tension filled the air as Toji straightened to his full height, sapphire eyes shifting between you and the luggage. 

"What are you doing?" he asked. Gone was his playful mood from earlier, replaced by something darker. He wasn't expressive, almost always looking bored out of his wits, and his facial muscles only rearranging in minute details to convey change, but it was enough to tell you to be on guard.

You walked towards him, mustering all your courage as you said, "I think we should end this."

"Because you're jealous?" He arched a brow at you. "I already told you –"

You shook your head, reaching up to touch his cheek, smiling as you traced downward before running your thumb against the scar at the side of his lips. While it made him look like a hooligan, you always thought it was a part of his charm. "That's hardly the issue here. As cliché as it is, it's not you; it's me. Thank you for everything, Toji. Give my love to Megumi."

At that, he chuckled. "And you expect me to just sit back with that sorry excuse? What do you take me for?"

Your eyes flashed in anger at the way he was undermining the circumstances. "Toji, I'm serious. It may be a sorry excuse for you, but it's not the same for me."

He stepped closer, looming over you. "So, speak up. Do I look like I'm playing here, sweetheart?"

"I...I can't..."

"What now?" He smirked, but you saw hurt cross his features, making you hesitate. It was too late when you realized you were stuck between a hard place and Toji, literally and figuratively. Your back hit the wall, and a second after, he slammed a palm just beside your head, staring you down. "I'm just a lowlife so I don't even deserve any proper explanation, is that it?"

"What? No! That's the last thing on my mind!" you retorted.

"So what? You're done writing your little reveal-all piece on me, so you're cutting me loose?"

How dare he, you thought. You were faithful to your agreement with him, and not once did you ever think of betraying him like that. Again, you were overwhelmed by the intensity of how you felt for him. You shook your head, trying to hold it in when your feelings were close to slipping out of your lips from the tip of your tongue. You didn't like the way he was looking at you as if you murdered his son and only family, but why were you making him angrier?

"If that's what you want to think, then fine."

"So fucking tell me, woman!"

"You should know by now that your intimidation tactic doesn't work on me," you told him dryly.

"You really are my woman," he says proudly, almost love-struck, but you weren't about to buy it.

"Let me go."

"And if I don't?"

"You wouldn't like what I will do, Toji."

"Oh, is that so?" Toji wasn't a patient man, but he always took his time with you, and that trait of his was proven to you for the first time when, in the next moment, you found yourself upside down after he hauled you onto his shoulder and easily carried you to the bed.

Before you knew it, you were on the mattress, but upon realizing what he was about to do, you started beating him on the chest with your fists, tears spilling out of your eyes. It was futile, you knew that, but you still wanted to get away from him. He easily pinned your hands down, silencing your protests with his lips as he took possession of yours. And just like that, you were docile as a kitten under his mercy and the heat of his touch.

"Do you still wanna leave me?" You just glared at him, your lack of response making him grit his teeth and tear the dress you were wearing off of you.

"Toji, what the – mmph!"

Again, he swallowed your words, his hands roaming over your now naked body. He pulled back only to say, "I'm giving you a chance to talk now, darling. Don't waste it." He then started kissing your neck, going lower and lower, the sounds he was making distracting you. "I'm listening, Y/N. And don't give me another bullshit excuse."

Your misery mingled with the carnal pleasure he was pulling out of you, coming in rivulets of tears as you half-sobbed, half-moaned at the way he was touching everything his hands could reach while he ground his crotch against yours.

"Toji, please stop," you pleaded, and he did, flashing you a pained look. For the first time, it seems that he was showing you the real person behind all the facade, the version of Fushiguro Toji exclusively reserved for Megumi.

He sat on his haunches, looking down at your vulnerable form as you covered your face with your arms and continued to sob. "I-I'm sorry..."

"No. I'm sorry," you answered between deep draws of breath. You weren't crying because of what he was doing. It was more for the fact that you were hurting him as much as your arrangement was hurting you. "But what the hell can I do?"

He hovered over you, prying your hands away from your face as gently as he could and peppering your face with kisses. "What is it, darling? Come on, tell me."

"I broke our agreement..." You looked away from him.

He eyed you quizzically. "And how did you do that?"

"By falling in love with you." You finally met his gaze. "I know you said our liaisons will not go beyond just what we really are to each other, but I couldn't help it. I care for you and Megumi, so much so that I want to be a genuine part of your lives. And it's not my place to ask, so I'm sorry."

To your surprise, he laughed, like really laughed, and you haven't felt so embarrassed in your life after pouring your heart out to him. You wanted the whole place to crumble into a pit and take you with it. 

When he was calm enough, he said, "Fucking finally!"

"What?"

He sighed, leaning down to kiss you on the cheek. "Do you know how long I've waited for you to say that to me?"

You paled but at the same time, you felt your face getting hot, realizing what he meant. "You knew?"

"From the moment it happened, yes. You think you can just walk out on me like that?" He shook his head. "Don't act like you don't know me at all."

"Y-you –" You didn't know what to say, getting up halfway only to be met with a scorching kiss that left you breathless.

Toji undid his pants, letting his cock spring free, and then lifted you onto his lap, holding you close. "I knew you were made for me the moment Megumi's eyes lit up the first time he asked if you were gonna be his new mommy."

"He did?" you asked in muffled tones against the crook of his neck.

"So what do you say? 'Cause I was dying to say yes." He kissed your temple, and underneath, you could feel him preparing to align himself with you.

You pulled away, holding his head between your hands as you looked at him in disbelief. "You were?"

He rolled his eyes. He really wasn't good at this. "Yes, darling. Now, are you still gonna leave me? Us?"

You pouted. "You're not just using Megumi to make me stay, right?" You gasped when he nudged your entrance, knowing he's got you in the bag. "I won't even let you near my son if I didn't want you as much as I do. But I got the best wingman, no?"

You just stared at him in disbelief but he prompted you by thrusting upward and breaking you away from your reverie, a high-pitched moan ripping out of your throat.

"Come on, Y/N. Decide so I can love you as much as you want me to." He grinned deviously at you. "Not that I plan to do otherwise if you decide to go."

"And if I go anyway?"

He smirked. "I don't know, love. I'm yakuza after all."

"Is that a threat?!" You smacked him on the chest, earning you a chuckle and a kiss to your forehead. "Yes. Can I love you now?" he asked and you swore he looked just like Megumi when he would beg you for goodies. So, how can you say no to that?

~*~

GOJO

"Where have you been?"

The silence you expected to arrive to at the penthouse was broken the moment you walked by the vast living room. You almost dropped the red heels you held when you heard that familiar voice echo through the room, quiet yet deadly.

You visibly froze before turning around to see the owner of the voice. He looked upset, those usually bright orbs of aquamarine having turned into cold, hard gems as they regarded you. The darkness of the room that surrounded him like a miasma didn't help in quelling the tension in the room. If there was one thing Gojo Satoru hated, it's when he is disobeyed, and you flouting his orders and going out to party wasn't an exception. Sure, he doted on you and always showered you with gifts and affection, but being part of his world meant you needed to follow strict rules in exchange for the lavish life he provided for you.

You knew you should not have gone anywhere apart from your university and the place you called home. You knew you should not have given his men trouble by thinking you were at home after you snuck out, but you thought, why not? Gojo wasn't supposed to be back until the following day anyway, "Negotiations," he called them. You didn't want to feel alone in such an empty space, which was becoming more frequent as of late. You understood where he was coming from, but at the same time, you refused to and you wanted to act out.

Choosing to aggravate his foul mood further, you shrugged and attempted to walk past without saying anything, but you effectively stopped when he said, "Stop right there. We're not done talking."

Veering to look at him with the coldest expression you could muster, you retorted, "I went out with my friends. What's the big deal?"

He stood up from his seat, evidently pissed off at your attitude. "I thought I told you. It's dangerous, Y/N. I'm just trying to protect you. What if something happened to you?"

"They're your enemies, Satoru, not mine."

"It doesn't change the fact that they will hurt you if they can!" He had such a menacing look on his face when he was angry which you thought never belonged with those easy smiles and generally perfect visage of his. Someone so beautiful being shrouded in darkness was a violation to nature, and Gojo was just so.

"Well then, maybe I shouldn't have gotten together with you!" you shouted back, throwing your expensive shoes on the floor, imagining it was an extension of him you wished to hurt. "I could be in danger; I understand that. I'm not stupid, but I never cared for any of that as long as I have you, but you're never there! Why should I stay put when you tell me to?"

Gojo was evidently taken aback at your outburst, not believing that this was the welcome he gets after being away. At the same time, he felt guilty and deserving of your harsh treatment of him, feeling his heart sinking at your words. "You'll be safer that way," was all he could say.

You smirked at him, shaking your head. "And lonely. You forgot lonely." You shrugged, walking away from him. "I'm tired."

Having ended up in the bathroom where you found solace from Gojo, you leaned your arms and propped your chin on the rim of the huge tub, staring at the city lights through the glass walls. It seemed like a good idea to get tangled up with an older male who wanted to take care of you at your darkest moments, having been fired from your job and thrown out of your apartment which made you resort to sleeping in your car. 

That's how you met in the first place, making the mistake of parking around the outskirts of the city, hugging a can of pepper spray in your sleep when Gojo and his men decided to make an exchange at the empty parking lot of the warehouse nearby. Safe to say, it went awry when men started to pull out guns.

He took you home after his right-hand man spotted you in the car when your phone lit up at the wrong time. At first, he was suspicious of you, thinking you were an asset for an enemy clan. You were probably traumatized or in utter shock when your first reaction to him after seeing him break someone's neck a few yards from your car was to tell him he was beautiful while also shivering at the thought of how easily those gloved hands could murder you.

Gojo had been straightforward from the get-go, never hiding his intentions the moment he thumbed at your chin, forcing you to behold his beauty in all its glory which was just a bonus with how gentle, kind and caring he was towards you. And you clung to the dark angel who offered you a comfortable life away from the dangers of the streets, even offering to pay for your studies when he found out just how well you did in them. It seemed you were embroiled in more danger than you anticipated, however.

To say that you didn't know what kind of life you have entangled yourself in would be a lie. You knew just what kind of person Gojo Satoru is, his pretty hands and his very name stained in blood. The tattoos that adorned his beautiful alabaster skin were a dead ringer of just what kind of clan he belonged to, and it didn't help that he was surrounded by ruffians like a lone rose in a sea of thorns all the time.

They called him The Prince, even his enemies, and what a fitting name, at least to you with whom he showed his better side and true self underneath the emotionally constipated yakuza overlord that he is. But that was the very thing that broke your heart.

You had an agreement. Blatantly put, you are his pet, and he is your owner who poured money on trinkets he thought would make you happy in exchange for favors. That's it. You give him your body, and you get to have him for all those moments he is available. You wouldn't deny that it was an economically good proposition and beggars probably can never be choosers as was the case for you, but you never anticipated just what a lonely existence it would be on top of it being dangerous when you were deemed his weakness.

What a laugh. You weren't his weakness, not even remotely close. It was all for naught when your life is being put in line because of stupid assumptions his enemies resorted to. You will die if you don't toe the line according to Gojo's standards, and for what? They'd probably think they hurt him, but really, they're just giving him an excuse to go on a rampage, which will be for reasons vastly different from their thoughts.

But more than anything, the most significant matter at stake was your heart, if not your sanity. Letting that information out during your outburst was a faux pas on your part, and you emotionally prepared yourself to leave the kind of life Gojo granted you in the first place. You've fallen for him, and that wasn't a good thing when he made it clear just what purpose you served for him.

The sound of water droplets from the faucet was suddenly interrupted by the glass doors sliding open to accommodate Gojo, who had already changed into a fluffy, white robe, shedding it off as he approached you. You didn't acknowledge his presence and merely watched his reflection through the wall. That didn't deter him from coming into the bathtub behind you and pulling you close.

"Would you please look at me, sweetheart?" he asked, his melodious voice making every fiber of your being tense. He wrapped an arm around you, his breath ghosting over your nape. "Did I make you that upset while I was away? I'm sorry, my pet."

His apology always came with a catch. You didn't have to enumerate them when you're only supposed to understand.

"Still mad at me? What does my Y/N want, hmm?" Gojo started placing kisses on your shoulder, moving upwards to your neck, but before it could cloud your judgment, you moved forward, gently taking his arm off of you, much to his dissatisfaction. He sighed, letting you have your space. "What's the problem?"

You hugged your knees to yourself, feeling the coldness of the air when you lost contact with him. "It's not something you could fix by kissing me." As if on cue, you absently scooped some soapy water and rubbed it over the areas he touched.

Being the brat used to having his way, Gojo scoffed. "Are you literally washing away my kisses?" It's just like him to ask about the trivial things when he feels like it. He reached out to touch you when you didn't answer but stopped when you flinched. He immediately turned serious, the air around you becoming charged with tension. "Y/N, will you please tell me what's bothering you?"

"You are."

"What?"

You leaned your forehead on your knees, feeling vulnerable to the whole world as you calmed your inner turmoil and tried to put in words how you felt, how things would end by your hand before he casts you away.

"I breached our contract."

Silence followed your words, and those mere seconds of pause felt like an eternity as you feared the worst. But then he said, "Will you elaborate on that?"

You lifted your head, throwing it back as you closed your eyes, taking a deep breath. "I know I don't have any right to be demanding things from you, least of all hold it against you when I miss you in your absence."

"You miss me?"

"But I have no control over how I started feeling the way I do, becoming more pronounced whenever you're not with me. We had an agreement, I know that, but because I broke it, I guess I'll have to take it upon myself to end this."

"End what?" He straightened up, his blue eyes filling with dread. "What – what are you talking about?" He sounded angry this time but like that of an animal cornered as opposed to being the hunter.

You looked at him from over your shoulder. "I'm leaving you, Satoru."

A mix of emotions started to take shape with every nuance in his expression, as if he could not make up his mind about how he would feel about what you just said. For a split second, he looked at you as if you had obliterated his whole being, but then he calmed down, massaging the point between his blue eyes.

"I'm sorry, but I can't do this anymore. I know my role, and I should just walk away before it gets out of hand."

"What role?"

You laughed without humor. "I am, in essence, just your sugar baby, Satoru. You give me things that you see fit. I don't get to demand anything from you."

"Is that how you see yourself?" His tone was scathing but calming at the same time. It makes things easier for you.

"Let's not pretend anymore, okay?"

"So what exactly are you telling me?"

"Do I have to spell everything out for you?" you asked in exasperation, your tears finally dripping from your eyes.

He let up on the harsh expression on his face upon seeing them. "Y/N, baby, don't cry. Please. I just need you to explain. I deserve at least that when you're telling me you want to –"

"I love you, Satoru." You smiled at him through your tears, the most sincere one you gave his way since you realized how you felt.

"You do?"

"I don't regret it regardless of the consequences."

"Y/N, I'm confused."

You didn't address that. Gojo was probably one of the most brilliant people you knew, but it was always easy to feign ignorance, regardless of that. Without addressing it, you motioned to get out of the tub, wondering where you'll start with packing, but then almost everything you owned was technically Gojo's. It would be easy, you thought.

"Anyway, you know now. I should go." 

Gojo wasn't having any of it. He stopped you, pulling you towards him. "You just told me you love me, and you're leaving me behind?"

You blinked. "Am I...not supposed to?"

Gojo smirked at you. "What makes you think you can just walk away now that I know?"

You sank into the water, creating splashes in your wake. You didn't know how to feel about that. It was a choice between succumbing to that false sense of security you learned to accept during the three years you've been with him or relief over the possibility that he reciprocated your feelings. However, before you could even decide, Gojo chose to addle your brain by leaning in and taking possession of your lips, giving you no choice but to melt and submit to his touches.

It was passionate as usual, setting every ounce of your existence aflame while his hands roamed around every inch of your skin, marking his territory. You appreciated that about him, not holding back and giving you what you wanted without inhibitions, but you've always accepted that what you wanted the most, he could never ever give. You've resigned yourself to that fact, and yet, whenever he touches you, you are convinced otherwise because his actions always contrast his words. You hated how hope started to grow in your chest, and although he quickly turned you on, you fought against it and pulled away from him.

"N-no. Stop."

"Why?" He looked at you, kiss-drunk and dazed.

"I can't do this anymore. I'm not going to force you to be beholden to me." You inched backward. "Just let me go."

Gojo clucked his tongue, sighing profoundly and covering his face with his hands in utter frustration. "What have I done?"

You shook your head. "It's not your fault."

"No..."

It was your turn to reach out to him, forcing his hands off of his face as you kneeled before him. "Satoru, you can hardly be blamed for how I feel. It's okay. I am not mad at you."

"Yeah, but I sure as hell am mad at myself." He let you take his hands but immediately reversed roles and held your hand in his. "Oh, Y/N. My sweet, sweet Y/N." His broad shoulders drooped down. "It's my fault why you're doing this right now for making you feel like you had to toe boundaries with me where your emotions are concerned."

"We signed a contract..."

He lifted his hand to tenderly graze your cheek, his icy blue eyes showing that misplaced warmth you've become familiar with even when he made someone beg for mercy. Gojo Satoru always shone brilliantly amid the darkness that surrounded him. You gravitated towards that light no matter how twisted it was.

"This is my doing."

"No –"

"But it's true." He smiled sadly at you. "I know what I am, and I am so deep in it that nothing could right the wrongs I've done. That contract was supposed to be a shield for you against me, Y/N, not the other way around."

"What?" Now you're confused.

"The moment you called me beautiful despite seeing what you did all those years ago, I knew I had to have you with me to have someone to see past the fear I instill in anyone who crosses paths with me." He shrugged. "I didn't want you to feel like you had to feel for me, nor did I want you to feel responsible for anything that involves me. I'm not so cruel that I'll subject you to that, but it's too late, no? I put you in danger, and you don't owe it to me that I am protecting you or giving you everything I thought you would want while keeping a safe distance. Turns out I've hurt you more."

You were taken aback, to say the least.

"But I do care for you more than I can admit or fathom." He beamed disarmingly as he tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear. "I am in too deep, and maybe I should just accept that I do love you."

"Satoru..." 

"I love you, Y/N. Words are cheap, and it may be too late, but I really do." He placed his head on your shoulder as he embraced you, holding you tight, skin on skin. "But if you want to leave, I will let you. I will not be selfish and ask you to stay with me. I want you to do whatever you think is best for you without thinking of me."

Laughter wanted to escape from your throat, not because of mirth but from relief. But with that came the realization that you weren't free anymore, not where Gojo was concerned. He's setting you free, but the lock to your prison wasn't his to hold in the first place. You held yourself captive to him in the first place, locked yourself in, and threw the key away. Knowing he reciprocated your affection towards him just sealed you in a reinforced vault, dunked into the deepest trenches of the ocean that was his warmth. How the hell were you supposed to leave him now when you mistakenly thought you were grasping at straws when he was shackled to you all along?

Shrugging, you wrapped your arms around him, shaking your head at your foolishness. At this point, saying you didn't know what you were getting yourself into is a big, fat lie, and it was probably one you will never make the mistake of doing anyway, unable to deny yourself of what you wanted...what you needed.

"You really are a piece of work," you muttered.

"What did I do?" he whined like a child. In such moments, you almost always forget he was shy of a year to a decade older than you.

You chuckled, returning his words to him. "What makes you think you can just walk away now that I know?" 

Gojo's head snapped up, now wearing a cheeky grin as he regarded you, his hands climbing up the back of your thighs before cupping your bare ass. "Is that so? I'm letting you do what you want, Y/N."

You scoffed. He's back to his usual self, toying with you, but you see the subtle difference in how he deals with you. "I am doing what I want right now."

"Going once..."

You relaxed in his hold.

"Twice?"

"No."

His expression turned dark, eyes hazy with lust as he drew you closer, making you sit directly on his half-hard cock. "You can't complain after this, you are aware, my love?"

Ah, the sound of that endearment rolling out of his tongue was music to your ears. Winding your arms around his neck, you leaned forward and ground your hips against his, relishing the soft groan that escaped his lips at the pressure. "Where do I sign?"

He pointed at his lips. "It's a lifetime agreement, mind you."

You wasted no time sealing your new pact, crashing your lips against his, a kiss that was sloppy at best, excitement and a mix of love and lust heavy on your tongue as you sought his, reveling in the taste of him which felt like the first time. Gojo was almost always dominant, but he didn't seem to mind that you were taking the lead this time, asserting your claim over him, unable to resist now that you've both gotten what you wanted from each other.

"Lucky for you, I don't want out."

~*~

I had fun with these. Wonder if I should do Geto, Sukuna and Choso as well... A little treat to quell the time I'm taking off of writing my ongoing Gojo smau cause I lost all my fucking files. Yay, me!

© ORIGINAL WORK BY nanaminokanojo. CHARACTERS ARE INSPIRED BY GEGE AKUTAMI'S JUJUTSU KAISEN. [20231019]

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