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phoenixyfriend · 3 years

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Uncle Ben and Little Luke

AKA we combine several types of time travel for maximum Soft Chaos, let’s go

EDIT NOW THAT I’VE WRITTEN THIS UP: jfc this ended up much angstier than initially intended uhhhhhhhhhh sorry

So a common enough thing I’ve seen in time travel fics is characters getting de-aged when tossed back physically, to neither the age they should be in that time, nor the age they were from the time they left, but whatever is most convenient. This is usually de-aging OT Obi-Wan into his TCW self, for reasons relating to, chiefly, removing the damage of Tatooine absolutely destroying his body alongside PTSD-driven alcoholism, but also because fic writers are horny, and Ewan McGregor playing a late-thirties negotiator is on average more appealing to people than Alec Guinness playing a vaguely feral desert hermit.

So, here’s how it plays out:

We take Luke and Ben from some point in the OT. There are a variety of options depending on how angsty we want it to be. My first instinct is ‘right after Owen and Beru die’ but I want to have that sweet angst where Luke knows that his dad is Vader and that Obi-Wan was trying to convince him to kill his own father without telling him that.

We’ll go with shortly after Bespin, and then they end up significantly before TPM. The Obi-Wan of the timeline proper is, eh, let’s say eighteen. Not really ready to be a knight, but old enough that we don’t have to worry about “if we go save Shmi, do we somehow wipe out Anakin?” which is absolutely a worry. Anakin is a toddler, and is in no place to be evil, on account of being literally two years old. He can’t even explode people with his brain yet.

Now, Ben finds himself mid-thirties, as is traditional. He’s not upset at this, because his joints hurt so much less than they used to! His knees aren’t exactly teenage-perfect, but by the Force are they better than they were in the years before he died! His hair has color! He doesn’t have arthritis! And, goodness, no physical withdrawal symptoms! The psychological aspect is still there, but nonetheless, he’s in much better shape than he last remembers being.

Luke looks like he’s about six. He was recently twenty-two. This is not an upgrade. Ben keeps having to carry him. He can’t see over the counter when they enter a bar for information. He can’t enter the bar in the first place. He’s very annoyed by all of this.

Ben is not annoyed. Ben is having a lot of emotions, actually, but annoyance isn’t one of them. He didn’t get to help raise Luke the way he might have if Anakin hadn’t lost his shit, okay, he sees a small Luke and he wants to hug him and cry.

Luke would like to be able to purchase a speeder part without the lady at the stall asking him if he needs his “dad’s” permission.

Once they figure out when and where they are, they need to decide where and how to leave. There are general shenanigans to gamble their way into enough money to hire a ship. They are in the ass end of nowhere, but definitely not Tatooine. There appears to be a jungle. There appears to be a significant variety of man-eating creatures. There appears to be a temple to the Force of questionable origin. None of this is actually helpful, except for the moment they find a “baby’s first lightsaber” in the temple.

Luke only has one hand and, being a six-year-old, his body is growing too fast for him to bother with getting a wired-in prosthesis the way he could as an adult. He can get a more basic prosthesis, but nothing that attaches to the neurons. He’ll outgrow it too fast.

He’s tiny and he’s not used to doing things with just one hand. He uses the Force to do what one hand can't, and every time someone tries to tell him he's misusing the Force he whaps them with the empty sleeve.

So, you know, they find out what year it is. Ben has a breakdown. Luke is upset that he left behind his friends. Ben admits to him that Leia was his twin. Luke stares in horror because dude, she kissed him, you couldn’t have mentioned this earlier???

Ben points out that Beru and Owen were keeping Luke away from him for nineteen years, and then they had about three days of awkward travel to find Leia in the first place, and then Ben died. He didn’t have a whole lot of time to figure out how to tell him.

(This sparks an argument that lasts several days. All onlookers assume that Ben’s son is throwing a tantrum. He doesn’t correct them, even though this is a very valid reason to be upset, because the truth is much harder to explain.)

Sooooo they travel. Mostly, Ben plays Sabacc, cleans house, and pays their way towards Coruscant. Luke still really wants to learn to be a Proper Jedi, even though Ben is pretty sure that Luke would have... a lot of difference of opinion with the Temple, but sure. Coruscant. They can at least stop by, and see Qui-Gon, and Mace, and Quinlan, and Bant, and everyone else that’s still alive and not tragically deceased in the horror following the start of the Clone Wars and then the birth of the Empire, and Ben can have a nice sob over all his dead friends being alive again.

Ben is only barely holding it together while Luke is in the room with him at any given point. But it’s fine! It’s fine. He’s fine. All of his loved ones have come back to life! It’s great! HE’S FINE.

He is not fine.

Luke is also grieving all the people who haven’t been born yet, but he’s... significantly more okay than Ben is.

The closer they get to the Core, the more often people just assume Ben is Luke’s father, and then look shocked and uncomfortable when Luke flatly calls him by his name, and they just... compromise. This is the point at which Luke starts calling him “Uncle Ben.”

Ben cries in his bunk later that night. Luke overhears it and wonders how the HELL Ben is more unstable now, when there’s a chance to fix things and no Vader or Empire trying to kill or capture both of them, and all his friends are alive.

(Luke will later learn a lot about PTSD and realize this is actually a fairly normal situation, to process significant events and emotions only after gaining safety or catharsis.)

(Twenty years on a ball of sand with an alcohol addiction and debilitating fear of the man you raised as your own brother is not, in fact, safe or cathartic.)

At any rate, they’ve settled into that pattern by the time they reach the Inner Rim. The Inner Rim is the part of the galaxy at which they’ve collected enough money (and mental stability) to travel a little better, and to take a few more risks.

Risks like “manipulate people with those baby blues.”

Ben tells Luke that he’s a menace, after he pouts so cutely that he gets a free scarf added on to a purchase that Ben makes. Luke responds that Ben has no room to talk, since he flirted a free breakfast out of that one inn owner.

Also, Luke is currently physically six. That is objectively a situation that sucks. He deserves to use it for all it’s worth if he’s stuck like this.

“You know, if you keep wearing all-black and looking longingly at the velvet cape and Space Chanel boots, the temple is going to worry that you’re a darksider.”

“Uncle Ben... you told me, yesterday, that I sparkle so brightly in the Force that it’s almost blinding.”

“Yes, but the gloves--”

They don’t agree on this, but Ben relents. He does actually understand good fashion, unfortunately, and he’s not unaware of how much Leia taught Luke about such things.

Luke’s about forty years ahead of the curve, of course, but Skywalkers are prone to such things. It’s usually in regards to technology, granted, but...

They get to Coruscant. Ben is very obviously a Jedi. He knows all the right words and walks like a Soresu master and feels warm and comforting in the Force. They let him in with minimal questions. They note down “my first padawan left the order to have a child, but died shortly after; I consider Luke here to be my nephew, and have raised him as such,” and move on.

Luke is vaguely annoyed because he already had an uncle (and aunt) that raised him, but he admits that a person can have more than one uncle. He can live with this. Ben was more family to Anakin than Owen was, in some ways, so it’s kind of true. Luke is even working on feeling more childish affection for Ben instead of the complicated mess of emotions that come from being lied to about some very large and important subjects, and then seeing the person saying those lies have regular emotional breakdowns due to something as small as Luke saying he likes the curve of the hull on that freighter.

(Apparently he sounds just like his father did as a child. This is almost heartwarming.)

The thing is! The thing. The thing is, they almost make it to the Halls of Healing to get looked over for weird viruses, or Outer Rim Parasites, or whatever the hells needs to be happening. They almost make it without Ben having a flashback to dead younglings or brainwashed troopers or the declaration of a Sith Empire. They almost make it without incident.

Then Ben sees Qui-Gon, and freezes, and does not move again.

Luke cannot get him to restart.

People are staring.

They haven’t even made it to Medical, Uncle Ben, come on.

Young, local Obi-Wan comes over and asks if there’s something he can do to help. Or maybe this “Ben” knows Qui-Gon? Master Jinn doesn’t recognize Ben, but maybe Luke knows more?

Luke does know more, but what Luke actually says is “he probably needs a mind healer.”

(Ben will not appreciate this.)

(Ben is unfortunately standing in the middle of the hallway and completely unresponsive, and is unable to argue with this assertion.)

(Ben is pretty much proving this assertion entirely correct, actually.)

Obi-Wan is helpful, if a little bitchy in the manner of most late-teens individuals, and offers to help get Uncle Ben down to the Halls of Healing. It involves Obi-Wan gently pushing on Ben’s shoulders, and Qui-Gon offering to carry Luke so he can be in Ben’s sights (because Ben is a Mystery, and Qui-Gon is quite fond of those, so he wants to stay involved). Ben kind of just... shuffles on down.

There are medical tests. They ask about how Luke lost his hand. He refuses to talk about it. They ask how Ben got all his scars. Luke says he doesn’t know. They ask if he knows why Ben looks like he’s been through a war. Luke says it’s because he probably was.

They check for foreign viruses. They find evidence of thus-far-unpatented vaccinations. They ask Luke if he knows what he’s vaccinated for.

“How would I know? I’m six.”

They agree that this is a good excuse.

(It is not. He’s lying. They do not know this.)

They do some more tests. They find a lot of questionable medical bullshit in Ben’s body. Most of this is from the clone wars, but they don’t know this. Someone realizes they haven’t gotten a ping back from the Shadow Network regarding “do we have permission to pull the medical file of a Jedi that isn’t in the normal database? We’re assuming you know who he is, since we don’t.”

The Shadow Network does not know who Ben is.

The healers, of course, go “huh, that’s weird, but maybe the name he gave his nephew was fake. We can’t exactly ask ‘Ben’ for more details right now. We already had to sedate him. Let’s check the DNA!”

The DNA pulls up as Obi-Wan Kenobi.

The padawan who brought this guy in two hours ago.

“Huh, that’s weird. Let’s call in Kenobi and ask if he knows what’s going on.”

Obi-Wan absolutely does not know what’s going on.

They ask Luke.

“Oh, I don’t know,” he says, lying through his teeth and not even pretending otherwise.

“You’re not a very good liar,” teenage Obi-Wan tells him.

“I’m not trying to be,” Luke says. “Can you get Master Yoda? I feel like we’re going to need him.”

They normally wouldn’t get Yoda on the request of a six-year-old, but they also normally don’t have a catatonic thirty-something Jedi who looks like he’s been through a war popping up in the medical database as the pimply teenage padawan that broke his pinky trying to do a Badass Ataru Flip last week.

Or... whatever Luke i... is... oh dear.

“Young one,” Qui-Gon asks, while people whisper-shout behind him, not realizing he’s cutting the Correlian Knot and just asking the kid himself. “Do you know why your midichlorian count is so high? It’s almost unheard of.”

“Uncle Ben said my dad was the Chosen One,” Luke says, because he is capable of being a little shit and is actually really eager to let Ben deal with some of the fallout. He feels for the man, really, but he’s also tired of being the one to field every single question.

Also, the expressions that pass on Qui-Gon’s face are hilarious.

(Luke may or may not be more affected by his six-year-old brain than he would like to admit.)

“Thank you,” Qui-Gon says, sounding more than a little strangled about it.

It takes another three hours for Ben to wake up.

He listens to the questions. He hears what they say his ‘nephew’ said. He looks at Luke.

“Is this revenge for not telling you about Leia?”

“It’s not revenge,” Luke does not lie. “I just don’t know how to explain it.”

“It’s pretty easy to explain.”

“It’s not my secret.”

“This is revenge for the Leia thing.”

“No,” Luke says. “Revenge for the Leia thing was when I ate a live frog in front of you.”

This is the point at which someone interrupts and points out that they appear to be stalling.

“Oh, he is,” Luke tells them. He gestures at Ben. “I can’t tell you more, because it’s more his story than mine.”

“I’m afraid, Master, that I am very likely to have an emotional breakdown if I allow myself to consider the reality of this situation for longer than the fraction of a second I already have,” Ben reports, full of false cheer. “Suffice to say, I am far from stable and have only held out this far for Luke’s sake.”

“Can you explain why you have my DNA?” Obi-Wan asks, as the person who’s most concerningly involved in this situation.

“You can,” Ben says, smiling like there is absolutely nothing wrong in the slightest, ever. “I’m you, from the future. I actually died and spent a few years dead before coming back. I’m not sure why I’m younger than I was when I died, but I appreciate being able to put on my shoes without my knees attempting to mutiny.”

“He needs a mind healer,” Luke reiterates, in case the strained grin hasn’t made it clear. “So do I, but not as much.”

“I have felt literally every person in this Temple save for Luke and Yoda die,” Ben reports, looking a shade more manic than a few seconds earlier. “It’s very overwhelming to feel you all being alive again. I may be approaching a mental breakdown, and I’ve been rather strictly advised against using alcohol to treat my traumas again.”

Luke kicks him in the thigh. It’s not a very hard kick, because he is very small, and he does actually like Ben. “I’m not letting you turn into an old drunk again.”

After several seconds of silence, a healer quietly suggests that everyone clear the room, and asks if someone could fetch Master Yoda as the youngling requested.

(THIS IS ALMOST THREE THOUSAND WORDS. I started it less than two hours ago. Why am I like this.)

#Ben Kenobi #Obi Wan Kenobi #Luke Skywalker #Qui Gon Jinn #Time Travel #De Aging #Phoenix Posts #Uncle Ben and Little Luke

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theepisceswriter · 3 years

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Jjk dudes promising just the tip but breaking it like 2 seconds later please!

Bestie I know you wanted multiple JJK characters, and I’ll probably still give it you, but I had something similar to this in my notes with Toji, so I decided to make a little ficlet with him instead surrounding this idea....kinda.

Synopsis: Your toxic baby daddy Toji hits you up after not being heard from for months with that smirk on his face that you just can’t resist.

TW: Dub con might apply here but I did my best to make reader aware that Toji was 99.99% lying abt just the tip and knew abt his intentions from the start, but I guess you can interpret it how you want, fembodied!reader, Toji is a trigger warning on his own, manipulation, implied that you have a child together, pregnancy mention briefly, breeding kink, toxic relationship, 18+, MINORS DNI

Word Count: 1.7k

Your heart dropped to your stomach when you flipped your phone over to see ‘TOJI WOJI 🥺🧸🥰....is FaceTiming you.’ Whatever he was calling for couldn’t have been important or even worth your time listening to at all. It was edging on 12 am in the morning, the ungodly hours of the night where sin ran rampant and thoughts became loud as the world around you silenced, a concoction of emotions that meant nothing good. Especially when the last time you received a phone call from him this late it resulted in a booty call that led to you pregnant with a child that Toji barely came to see. Still, you found your thumb lingering over the green answer button and faintly tapping on it, hoping that it wouldn’t go through, but instead, you were met with the sight of Toji. The raven locks on his hair poking out like always, the same old scar over his lip, and the same basic black tee decorating his body. He looked exactly the same as you had last seen him except the outside lights of the world illuminated his face as he appeared to be in what you assumed was the driver’s seat of his car. You felt your heart clench in your chest, memories of your relationship before he up and dipped on you clouding your mind to the point where you were damn near in tears wondering why it had to end so abruptly; why he left you the way he did. But those tears were soon pushed back by with an anger that had you ready to hang up in his face. You were so conflicted when it came to him, always had been.

“What do you want Toji?”

“You. I miss you, y/n. I’ve been thinking a lot about you and our family.” God, here he went with this bullshit again. Just when you thought the cycle was over he always popped up again, little white lies about missing you and his child so he could find solace in your bed for a week or two before dipping like he always did. Apparently, he wanted to come in and talk things out, just talk and try to redeem your relationship. You knew he was just telling you everything you wanted to hear with an ulterior motive behind his words, but you couldn’t resist that grin on his lips and the compliments of how nice you looked even in your nightclothes.

He was too good at this because the next thing you knew he was sitting on the couch in your living room with his legs manspreading out and trying to inch his way closer to where you sat on the opposite end. Your arms crossed and staring daggers into him while all he did was look at you as fondly as he could, as if he were genuinely envisioning a future with you and the child he left you within this moment.

“What the fuck do you really want Toji?” Your voice had a bite to it that left him smirking at your attitude and digging deeper into his mind to pull out lines he knew you wanted to hear, lines he knew would get him that satisfactory ending of you giving into his sweet talk and bold advances as he scooted a couple of inches closer to you. So close that his hand was able to rest on the part of your left thigh that the shorts you were wearing left exposed, gently kneading the area with his palm.

“You know you look good right?” You scoffed and rolled your eyes ready to push his hand off of you but his other hand blocked you from doing so, bringing both of your arms over your head and adjusting the two of you so that you were now smushed between him and the cushioning of the couch. As mad as you wanted to be at him you just couldn’t. He had indestructible shackles placed over your heart that tugged with each time he forced himself back into your life just like how they were now.

Flashbacks of the night you got pregnant suddenly came flashing before your eyes. The vivid imagery of the way he had your legs folded to the point where your ankles were by your ears as he pounded into you ruthlessly from above, hand around your neck tightening your airways and making tears form in your eyes. Blissed dazed out in a space that was too similar to subspace, too out of it to even respond to the “I’m going to fuck a baby into you and how ever many I want after that. Use you like the slut you are and breed you so good.” That had left his lips at that moment.

Which is exactly what he did and here he was again, the two of you in the very same spot shimmied out of your clothes, and him ready to fuck a baby into you again once more.

“I just want you.” When he says it like that, voice soft and laced with what you hope to be some form of honesty, it’s easy to pretend like this is okay in a relationship—if that’s what you could even call this. That if you squinted your eyes hard enough and looked past Toji’s flaws that all this pain and suffering he put you through in the end would be worth it. Your feelings changing for him with each entrance and exit he made in your life. Always wondering what the two of you could’ve been if he was a better man. You had to be soulmates, there was no other explanation for why you kept coming back to each other. At least not any logical one that you could think of.

All the logical thinking left your mind the moment he pressed his lips to yours, those oh so soft lips that you missed and craved badly on nights when other men’s lips couldn’t contort to yours the way that he did.

This is exactly what he wanted—his gentle caresses and touch to distract you from the real reason why he was here. Which was only to use your body how he wanted before he went on with his life, not thinking about you again until he got horny once more. And it was the touch of his cold hands against your skin, working its way up to grope at your enlarged breast, that brought you back to this realization. Lips moving off of his immediately and backing up against the arm of the couch. Your lips opened in protest, only to be cut off by him speaking up first.

“You don’t understand how much I’ve missed your touch—your body. Do you know how much gorgeous you’ve become with a post-pregnancy body? Just looking at you is driving me crazy.” He continues on with his compliments. Each one hitting you straight into your heart and going up to your head to shush those thoughts that scream at you to not fall for his trap, but instead, you fell right into it. Allowing his to resume his position on top of you.

“We don’t even have to do much. Just the tip, I promise. I just miss the feeling of you around me so much.” It’s the first time this whole night that you were able to recognize one of his lies as just that, a bold-faced lie. You knew how he got when he was in the mood, how dark and clouded his mind got with lust to the point where he was a whole different Toji. But you let him believe that you believed that, a small okay leaving your lips along with a nod as you accepted his lips on yours once more; his tongue slipping past your lips to find yours, gently sucking on it and letting out a light moan at the familiarity of it. He didn’t even have to use his hands to guide his cock to your entrance because he was just that big, breaking away from the kiss to look at where the two of you connected and using his hips to guide his erect tip inside of the warmth of your cunt. For a minute, maybe even less, he kept his “promise” of inserting only his tip, but the feeling of your walls gripping on only the tip of his cock was enough for him to go crazy. Something on the verge of a whimper and a moan leaving his lips. He needed more of you and he was going to have more of you. Disregarding his promise like you predicted, he ruthlessly bucked his hips up against yours, his whole length entering you with ease from the build-up of your arousal that had taken the physical form of wetness.

“Pussy so wet just for me that you swallowed me whole.” He tried to pin it on you and if you weren’t stuffed to the brim with him right now maybe you would’ve rolled your eyes and told him how dumb he sounded, but you went along with it. He didn’t even give you time to adjust to him because even after months without touching each other he knew the pussy that he trained with constant fucking every week would remember his shape and form, adjusting your legs so they were folded up against your stomach and immediately getting to work.

“I might have to put another baby in you if this is what post-pregnancy pussy feels like. You feel so good and right around my cock, baby.”

Each thrust was like heaven on earth, his cock curved in just the right spots to his every sensitive area inside of you that left your toes curling and a faint white creamy line begin to form at the base of his cock. It had been so long since you’ve had a nice good fucking. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt so full, so good to the point where tears formed around the edges of your eyes. No one, not even the toys you had spent $100’s on tucked away in your closet, came close to the affect that he had on your body.

He always knew just what to do and just what to say to have you crumbling underneath him. One of your favorite but also most disliked quality that he possessed.

#I know you’re probably wondering where the child is at and I’m going to assume that it’s at someone else’s house rn #I didn’t feel that was too important to mention in the story lmao #Asks.#Spicy.#jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujustu kaisen smut #jujustu kaisen x reader #toji fushiguro smut #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro

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the-tiniest-one · 3 years

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Hello! I saw you asking for requests to be sent in. I was wondering if you could do headcanons for kakashi and gai (separately) with a plus size civilian s/o? Or one or the other? Thank you in advance ❤

MIGHT GUY

SO we all know Guy is ALL about 3 things. Youth. Passion. Protecting Precious People….and guess what? When you happen to cross paths with the Leaf Village’s Blue Beast, he trips over himself to let you know just how PRESH you are.

I don't see your status as a civilian as much of a road block for him. He needs someone grounded and with soft hands to hold.

Someone who will think he’s the strongest man in the world, a superhero.

He protects the ones he loves with his life and once you're in that circle there is no way out of this man’s giant heart.

You somehow enter Guy’s line of sight, maybe on a walk to class or work too early in the morning…. and from that moment you pass by and he catches sight of your pretty face, he is out for the count.

Now. Lets remember….Guy is CONFIDENT (sometimes more in spirit than in actual ability, he is the fake-it-till-you-make-it KING).

Also important to note: Guy is NOT the same as Rock Lee in his pursuit of women. He’s not about to blow every kiss at you from the jump or shamelessly confess everything out right. Don't get me wrong, he’s shameless….but Guy wants to be seen as someone cool, sexy, a real macho/mighty man... He wants to be slick Kakashi his eternal rival. He’s going to try to be velvety smooth….without success.

He would find any excuse to be in your eye line while flexing or saving a poor disguised student he employed for his contrived scheme, in this case... Neji or Lee in a dress from falling off a building LOL. (“They would be asking him to please explain again how this is training?”)------You might be a civilian. But Genjutsu of that level does NOT work on you LOL.

You are the one to finally introduce yourself to a slumped and defeated Guy after about a week of his adorable attempts at trying to bate you in with his goober acts.

“Hello, my name is (y/n). I was hoping maybe you would like to get a drink sometime?” you say with a half smile.

He would raise his head, teeth BEAMING….the power of youth always prevails!

Best. Decision. Ever. Guy charming and not to mention SHREDDED.

When he accepts your date offer, He would stand and grin, maybe saying something a little cocky like; “A handsome, war hardened devilish shinobi such as myself will always find time to satiate the voracious desires of such a heavenly woman so bursting with the essence springtime.”

He would be so so so respectful.

That being said, you're HIGH AF if you think you aren't making a B-line to walk by Kakashi on the way so Guy can tactfully walk by loudly so that his rival notices he’s with a cute girl.

He’s going to be the chivalrous type. The kind of man who makes sure your hands are around his giant bicep whenever he escorts you anywhere….which from this point on is almost anytime he is home from missions or not training.

Guy is perfect. He’s tall, JACKED, and such a sweet loving man.

He is obsessed with your shampoo. His nose is always in your hair.

Lets face it. Guy is 100% the most physical man that has ever walked the streets of Konoha. If you aren't big on touching, then his is not the man for you.

One hand will always be around your waist, holding your hand, arm around your neck, locked on your curves or anywhere else….respeeeectfully of course.

He will always be up on you and in your face so get ready for that LOL.

He will be proud of you. He will be boisterous to an exhausting level about your achievements.

He will be exhilarating in every way.

One of Guy’s greatest strengths is also one of his most unfortunate downfalls. He is wildly protective. Never underestimate his ferocity when it comes to you. You may have to communicate more than once where the line is when it comes to him watching over you. Even though you aren’t skilled in combat as he is, you also are not a child and he will take some time to learn what you require and what you don’t.

He always means well.

You have some faults and things to work on as well. Guy is tender as hell, an emotional, hot blooded, love sick fool who can and WILL take things you say to heart so be sure if you notice him freaking out or trying too hard to make you happy, to hold him and let me know often that he is perfect the way he his.

In the end all of the passions and butterflies that Guy provokes from your heart are entirely justified.

He will ask you to marry him after a date, probably at sunset, one knee, giant ring he spent way too much on.

He claims you deserve the world and you tell him that instead of the world “you would settle for just having his hands, his lips, and his heart.”

Do your best to return his love to the best of your ability because not everyone gets the chance to be loved by the Hidden Leafs Handsome Blue Beast.

KAKASHI

I’ve never seen Kakashi as someone who would end up with another shinobi bombshell.

Instead I think he would find himself interested in someone who is a total badass in another line of work.

Example; You first encounter him one day while advising Lady Tsunade on the information the Hidden Leaf Village (and a few others) pay’s your company large sums of money to collect, aggregate, and report.

Kakashi stands guard during the meeting, watching you speak with an eloquent grace and authority he finds captivating and maybe a little seductive.

By then end of the meeting he is curious about you...wondering what you thought of him, what you think about everything.... You never even look his way.

He falls in line with you as we escorts you out of the building, walking beside you in the otherwise empty stairwell.

You smirk and take the liberty of speaking first. “Did you enjoy the show Scarecrow?”

From that moment on he’s hooked.

Now I also don’t find the idea of him falling for someone with some FULL curves to be all that outlandish….He has never given .00000001% of a shit what other people think.

He also shares the famous Pervy Sage’s taste in “women he describes from research” and romantic books about women shaped like gourds so with that logic in mind….dude likes thicc, full, curvaceous women for sure. It's basically cannon at this point ;)

Kakashi is someone who has learned emotional detachment through pain. You are the first person who shows promise in tearing down those defenses.

Your relationship not necessarily a slow burn. Kashi isn’t a kid, just because he hasn’t fallen head over heals with anyone before, doesn’t mean he is a mystery to himself or oblivious to his feelings.

That being said, I do think he will protect you by keeping a relationship with you under wraps for the first year or so.

If anything EVER happened to you….he wont let that happen.

The secrecy could be hard on you at first.

Watching more than a few women flirt shamelessly with your Kashi is beyond ROUGH.

Especially considering most of them are tough as nails ninja women with perfect bodies. You aren't used to feeling threatened by other people men or women, so you have a hard time learning how to deal with it.

Kakashi is always quick to remind you that he is serious about your relationship though.

He looks at you with a ferocity only seen by people who are no longer alive. His voice is low and serious when he gets close and tells you, “(Y/N) You are my entire life. I will never leave you. I promise I am yours until the day I die.”

After a few times of him promising you that he really is in love with you, you believe him and can be secure in his word.

As his girlfriend, you take his breath away.

The way you speak, move, sleep….

Even the way you casually conduct yourself at home and in public makes him more than proud to know who you are. Let alone get to go home to you.

Guy is the first one to catch on believe it or not. He notices Kakashi peaking over the top of his book at you as you walk down the opposite side of the street. He’s known Kakashi since they were kids, he puts a reassuring hand on your boyfriends shoulder and vows without spoken words to protect you when Kakashi can’t be there….and Kakashi understands. It helps him sleep just a little better knowing he has help.

Stargazing on a rooftop one chilly autumn night, Kakashi grabs your hand and proposes to you with a small silver ring, slightly ashamed for it’s lack of a stone.

“I want you to be my wife.” is all he says and you wrap your arms around him whispering in his ear “You have had my heart since the first day I met you…. And you always will.”

His heart melts into a puddle at the sound of you telling him he will have a wife. Finally have family that loves him this much.

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xtrrdnrypotato · 3 years

Text

Bakugo x chubby reader

Katsuki Bakugo x chubby! female reader

TW: fluff, language, reader is insecure of her figure,

Note: This is my first piece so please go easy on me if I didn’t portray everything exactly. This is also a part of @heart-shaped-cheerios collab event, so go check her out. Also, I hope this fic makes you less insecure with yourself because whatever shape, form or size you are, you are perfect and you're the only one who can do you. Also, if some of the lines sound familiar to you, that's probably because I took some inspiration from Yagami Yato hehe anyways I hope you enjoy

WC: 2.7 k

You stared longingly at Bakugo again for the umpteenth time, your food untouched.

"Y/n!" your friend, Mina, called again, and your attention snapped to her.

"Oh, sorry, what was it?" you asked her, and you swore she looked so close to facepalming herself.

"I said, you still haven't touched your food. Quit daydreaming about Bakugo and start eating!" she said, almost yelled, and you shushed her quickly.

"Shh! Mina, don't talk too loud or he might hear you," you said, glancing quickly at the said boy to make sure his attention wasn't on you guys. Mina sighed exasperatedly.

"Y/n, how many times have I told you, just tell him your feelings. This is our last year in UA. If you don't tell him now how you feel, you may never get the chance to do so," she said, softer this time and you sighed.

"I know, but, you know how I feel about myself," you answered, looking down at your body. "And besides, he's probably not even in the slightest bit interested in me," you added as you took a bite off of your food.

"Hey, you never know! Who knows, maybe secretly, he's also daydreaming about you when you're not looking." You could clearly hear the mischief in her tone and you shook your head.

"Yeah right, as if," you mumbled as you kept eating, unaware of the vermilion eyes staring at you with a somewhat doting look.

It was your dreaded time of the day again. Training. You hated it when it's time for training, hated it when you don your hero costume, hated how you're fully aware you probably look round as hell in it, and hated the fact that Bakugo has to see you in it. But seeing Bakugo in his hero costume somehow made your hatred for training a little more bearable. You were so caught up in your thoughts that you almost missed it when Aizawa-sensei announced that you would have to go against Bakugo. Almost.

"Wait, what?!" you gasped as soon as you realized what your teacher said.

"Is there any problem?" Aizawa asked sternly and you gulped, shaking your head.

"N-none, sir."

"Good. Now, everyone, get ready," he said.

"Mina, Mina, Mina! I'm going up against Bakugo," you said to your best friend, clinging to her arm frantically. She immediately looked at you.

"Wait, really?"

"Yes! Oh, what do I do, what do I do?" you panicked as you thought of ways on how to avoid making yourself look like a complete and utter fool.

"Relax. Everything's going to be fine. Just, try not to look like a fool and do your best. Don't think of him as Bakugo, your crush. For now, think of him as Bakugo, someone you have to go against," Mina said as she rubbed your shoulders to help you calm down and that seemed to do the trick. With a deep breath, you nodded and smiled.

"You're right! Thanks, Mina," you said.

"Welcome, now go and get ready. You're up for one heck of a training," she grinned and you rolled your eyes playfully, thanking her once again before leaving to get ready.

Meanwhile, Bakugo watched as you started getting ready.

"Oi, Bakugo, quit staring at Y/n and get yourself ready," Denki teased, flustering the spiky haired blonde.

"Shut up! I'm not staring at her!" he denied as he geared himself up. Denki and Kirishima glanced at each other with a knowing look, before bursting into laughter. Bakugo looked at them with furrowed brows.

"What the hell is wrong with you two?!" he demanded. His eyes suddenly widened as Kirishima put an arm around him.

"Come on, Bakugo, no need to deny! We all do that, you're not alone," Kirishima said, to which Denki agreed.

"Yeah, dude! I always do that to Jiro," he said with a shit-eating grin. Bakugo looked at them incredulously before shaking off Kirishima's arm around him.

"Shut up, both of you!" He was about to deny more when Sero suddenly entered.

"Yeah, if you look closely, Bakugo's a bit softer with Y/n," he casually stated as he put on his helmet. Bakugo's eyes widened once more before he let out an exasperated groan and pushed his friends out of the way.

No, can't be. I'm not softer with her. Tsk, damn Soy Sauce Face.

"Next up, Katsuki Bakugo and Y/n L/n!" you heard Aizawa announce and you stood up nervously, sparing one last glance at Mina, who nodded firmly. With a sigh, you headed to the center of the gym.

"Good luck, Bakugo," you smiled at him and he responded with a simple tsk, before getting in position. As soon as you heard the signal to start, you immediately backed away from Bakugo, activating your quirk just in time for one of his explosions. You quickly attempted to kick his leg to knock him off balance, but he easily avoided your attack and landed an explosion on your back, sending you to the ground. Wiping the dirt off of your face, you stood up and decided to lunge at him. He easily avoided your attacks, until you managed to find an opening. As you were about to punch him, he suddenly grabbed one of your hands and flung you to the ground, face first. You could feel your stomach growling from lack of food this morning, but you still willed yourself to stand up and brace for one more attack. However, just as you were to get up, you felt your knees weakening and before you knew it, you fell to the ground, stomach hurting too much for you to make a move.

Bakugo was determined to prove to his friends that he wasn't soft for anyone, especially not with you, but as soon as he saw your knees starting to buckle, his determined look suddenly softened until he saw you on the ground, seemingly crumpling in pain. He stood there at first, shocked and unable to comprehend what happened, before he walked to you and started lifting you up.

You were curled up on the ground in pain, hands clutching your growling tummy, when you suddenly felt someone starting to carry you. You were just about to open your mouth to protest when you saw the face of the one carrying you.

"B-Bakugo?!" You gasped. He simply ignored you and started walking towards the door and you started freaking out internally. Oh shit, I'm heavy, I'm heavy!!

"Bakugo, put me down! This is embarrassing!" You hissed at him but he still looked completely unmoved.

"Bakugo, put me the hell down! I'm too heavy!" You complained again as you started thinking of ways on how to free yourself from him when he suddenly glared at you.

"Shut up, damn brat. Are you underestimating me?" he asked and you shook your head. Never did it once cross your mind to underestimate him.

"Good. Then shut up and let me do this," he said and you said no more, remaining silent until you reached the infirmary.

You couldn't help but wince as Recovery Girl kissed your cheek. Bakugo brought you to the infirmary, then left as soon as the old healing lady attended to you.

"You children, obsessed with being skinny and all. Look at what you're doing to yourselves," the woman reprimanded you as you remained silent. The silence was soon broken though when your best friend Mina entered the room.

"Y/n!! I was so worried about you. What happened? Are you okay?" she asked consecutively as she ran by your side. You waved her off with a laugh.

“Yes, I’m fine, don’t worry,” she answered with a smile. Mina seemed relieved with your answer, but her frown remained.

“Now, woman, you have some explaining to do to me. Why are you starving yourself?” she asked sternly and your smile slowly dissipated.

“How’d you know?” you murmured, avoiding your friend’s eyes. You heard her audibly gasp.

“So you are starving yourself. God, why Y/n?” she asked, sounding both exasperated and concerned. You remained silent, ashamed of yourself.

“Y/n, come on, answer me!”

“Because I want to be like you guys! You all have the ideal bodies, slim and curvy, while here’s my chubby ass. So I thought, maybe I could try starving myself so I could be more like you guys,” you retorted as you tried to hold back the tears threatening to leave your eyes.

Bakugo was about to enter your room when he heard another voice from inside. Tsk, Raccoon-eyes. Still, instead of leaving, he decided to stay outside the door, eavesdropping on the conversation. Tsk, I shouldn’t be here, he thought to himself despite what he’s currently doing. What he heard next though was something he never thought you’d say.

Mina gaped at you, aghast before she suddenly hugged you.

"What are you talking about, silly? You don't have to be like us, Y/n. Yes, you may be chubby, but that’s part of your charm,” she said in an attempt to comfort her.

“No, I..of course it’s easy for you to say that. Look at you,” you pouted, motioning to her slim pink body.

“I’m pink. Yes, I’m slim, but I’m pink. Despite how my body shape looks, I’m still pink, unlike you and Uraraka and others. But you guys still befriended me, right?” she asked and you nodded.

“Of course! I mean, you may be pink but you’re fun to talk to, and you’re nice,” you added, which made her smile sheepishly.

“You really think so?” she asked teasingly before bursting into giggles. Staring at her, you couldn’t help but snicker as well.

“But kidding aside, now you get my point?” Mina asked as she stopped laughing. Wiping the corner of your eye, you nodded.

“I guess?” you answered with a slight grin. Mina looked at you with an “are you serious” look and you giggled.

“Well, I think that’s the best I can get from you for now. But once you’re out of here, I’m going to whip you into shape! And I don’t mean physically! Got it?” she asked in a bossy tone, her hands on her hips. Your slight grin turned into a full fledged smile and you nodded. Mina’s serious yet playful look softened and she hugged you once again, before finally leaving you alone in the clinic.

Mina shook her head as she closed the clinic door behind her.

“She’s always so stubborn,” she muttered to herself. When she looked up, she was surprised to see Bakugo.

“Oh, Bakugo, are you visiting Y/n?” she asked. He didn’t answer, which made her grin.

“She’s up, don’t worry. Get in there, I know she’s also looking for you,” she added and the blonde looked at her with an inquisitive brow raised as Mina held her hands up in surrender and moved out of the way. With a tsk, Bakugo was about to enter when Mina talked again.

“You should probably tell her how you feel already. It’s starting to get out of hand, you know,” she teased. She can obviously see him tense up, before letting out a low growl and opening the door, quickly closing the door behind him, making Mina chuckle.

Your eyes were closed as you pondered your best friend’s words when you heard the door open.

“Mina, I thought-” you were cut short when you saw Bakugo enter. You quickly straightened and cleared your throat.

“H-hey, Bakugo,” you said with an awkward laugh.

“Wh-what are..you doing here?” you asked, seeing as he didn’t respond to your first statement. He remained silent and you were starting to get annoyed by his behavior.

“Seriously, why are you-”

“How are you?” he cut you short and you closed your mouth before responding again.

“I-I’m good. Recovery Girl told me I can go out by today, I just need to take a small rest,” you answered and he nodded thoughtfully. You tried to look for more things to say, but couldn’t find any and so you decided to shut up.

“I..” Bakugo said before pausing quickly, as if hesitating what to say next. He cleared his throat before talking again.

“I..overheard what you and Mina were talking about earlier,” he stated and you looked at him, eyes wide before shaking yourself off.

“You did?” you asked and he simply nodded. Great, now you’re probably thinking of how pathetic I am, you couldn’t help but think.

“Why?” he asked, breaking your train of thoughts.

“Wh-what do you mean..why?”

“Why would you try to change yourself? Why would you do such a thing to the point that it almost got you in trouble?” he asked, and you were pretty sure you could hear concern in his voice. You remained quiet though, embarrassed as you looked down to your hands.

“Why?” he repeated himself, firmer this time and you looked up at him.

“So you’d take a second glance at me!” you shot back and he furrowed his brows, as if he didn’t understand what you meant.

“I did that..so you know, you would notice me,” you paused, considering your words before resuming. “I’ve liked you for some time now, Bakugo, but I thought..you wouldn’t notice me or take a second glance at me, because of how I look. Because, let’s be honest, I pale in comparison with the other girls in our class. So I tried being like them, so maybe you’d like me back,” you said, tears welling up in your eyes. He remained speechless for a long time, and you sighed. You’ve only made a fool of yourself.

“Look, I know it sounds pathetic, so could you please just leave me-”

“Idiot,” he mumbled and you looked at him, aghast.

“Excuse me?” you asked, incredulous. After that confession, he’d just call you an idiot?!

“You’re an idiot. You’re an idiot for thinking that you need to be like them in order for me to like you. You’re an idiot for thinking that I wouldn’t take a second glance at you because of how you look. You’re an idiot for even thinking that I didn’t like you in the first place,” he added and you looked at him, confused.

“Wha-? What are you talking about?” you asked him, visibly confused.

“You really are a dumbass, huh?”

“One more insult and I’ll kick you out.”

“How could you not notice? All my friends have been telling me that I’ve been so obvious, but I guess I wasn’t obvious enough,” he answered and you only gaped at him, even more lost.

“What do you mean “obvious”? What the hell are you talking about?” you asked, starting to get annoyed.

“I like you, dumbass!” he finally yelled and your eyes widened, taken aback. He saw your shocked expression and decided to continue.

“I like you because you’re cheerful, you’re smart, you’re kind, you’re helpful. I like you because you still manage to smile even after all the insults you get from others. I like you because you’re you. So when I heard that you were starving yourself because you wanted to look like the others, I knew I had to do something. You don’t need to be like them for me to notice you, because it’s you who I like. I wouldn’t like you if you were like them. And I don’t care if you think you’re too fat or too chubby or whatever because to me, you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen. And you just need to see that,” he said, the words flowing out of him so effortlessly. When he looked at you, he could see tears in your eyes again.

“Tsk, making me say stuff like that,” he said and before you knew it, he pulled you in a hug.

“So don’t go trying to change yourself, okay? If you really want to, I’d respect that. But do it for yourself. Not because you want to be like someone else, but because you want to be you. Got it?” he said as he hugged you tightly and you couldn’t help but tear up more.

“Are you saying this because it’s what you really mean, or because you just pity me?” you asked with a slight laugh.

“Shut up, dumbass. You know I don’t do things half-assed, and I wouldn’t say all this stuff if it’s just out of pity, so you better appreciate it,” he mumbled and you couldn’t help but smile.

“I do appreciate it,” you answered and you swear you could feel him smile.

“Good. Now shut up..and let me hug you,” he said, holding you tighter and at that moment, you knew you couldn’t be any happier.

#bakugo x reader #my hero x reader #fluff #bakugo mha #bakugo katsuki x reader #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #chubs n' rolls collab #fuffypens #sfw

142 notes · View notes

haus-seeblick · 3 years

Text

Suptober Day 2: No Vacancy

Title: Backroad Romance

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 3,119

Tags: First Kiss, Dean Winchester and Castiel are Alone in the Dark, Mild Angst With a Happy Ending, Sam Ships It, Making out in the Impala

On AO3 Here

“You’re shittin’ me, Sammy.” Dean groans and smacks the steering wheel with his palm. “There’s no room in the whole place?”

Sam’s voice floats into the Impala, high and tinny over the burner phone’s speakers. “No vacancy, Dean, I’m sorry, I checked with them three times--”

“--Nah, nah, it’s cool, we believe you,” Dean interrupts, cradling the phone between shoulder and ear so he can rub his face while steering around a bend. Cas reaches over and deftly slips the phone away, fingers pinched like he’s removing a block from a Jenga tower.

“Did you and Eileen find accommodations?” Cas asks, holding the phone out in front of him so Dean can listen in.

There’s a short pause, then: “Yeah… yeah, we did, but guys, the room is really small, like, a closet, I swear, and there’s only one bed, and--”

This time it’s Cas who interrupts. “--and you wish to engage in private romantic activities. Dean and I completely understand.”

They’re on a straight stretch of highway, but Dean still manages to swerve clumsily into the shoulder. He hastily course-corrects and bites down the urge to snap at Cas for-- for what? For talking like that? For using his deep, rough voice to say any words even vaguely related to--

No. It’s not Cas’ fault that everything he does steadily turns Dean into more and more of a creep. Dean shakes his head firmly and tunes back in to the conversation just in time to catch Sam awkwardly stumbling over his reply. Dean leans over, cutting him off with a whistle into the phone.

“We’ll be fine, little brother. Be a gentleman. Don’t hog the sheets. Girl like Eileen doesn’t come around every day.”

He can feel the bitchface radiating through the speaker and motions at Cas to hang up. Cas frowns and gravely says “Dean would like to end the conversation. Goodbye, Sam,” before flipping the phone shut. He drops it into the cupholder.

Dean makes a show of focusing on the road to avoid looking at Cas. He knows Cas is staring at him; it’s just something the guy does, sitting in the passenger seat and gazing at Dean as if the whole world isn’t flashing by outside.

Dean’s long stopped commenting on it. Let the dude stare.

He clears his throat. “We’ll probably have to find a logging road or something. Pull in and hole up for the night.”

“All right,” Cas replies. He opens the glovebox and pulls out the local map they picked up this afternoon when they rolled into Matlock, Washington, to investigate a haunted post office. It was a gray, dinky, bleak town and the poor ghost lurking around the mailroom seemed more melancholy than anything. She allowed them to dispatch her into the afterlife with very little struggle; that is, after some creative sweet-talking by Sam.

Eileen had teased Sam mercilessly about it before Dean had even gotten a chance. That’s how Dean knows she’s The One.

There was, of course, no motel in town. Sam and Eileen hit the road before Dean and Cas, because Dean insisted on getting a burger for dinner at the tiny diner on Main Street (a mistake). Now he’s staring down the barrel of a night alone with Cas, in cramped quarters, on a dark backroad. If they hadn’t already driven all day to get to Matlock, Dean would push on until they found a motel with vacancies, but he’s exhausted and Cas is just human enough these days to actually be tired too.

“There’s an access road nearby,” Cas says, tracing the map with his index finger. “In a quarter mile. Left.”

Dean follows his directions and sure enough, there’s a bumpy logging road branching off from the highway, stretching deep into the pitch-black trees. Dean pulls in about five hundred feet before turning off the lights and the ignition.

It’s silent. The darkness is all-encompassing, pressing in on Dean, so heavy it’s like he can feel it on his eyelids when he blinks. He takes a slightly shaky breath. Cas is utterly still, as usual, not a single rustle or exhale indicating his presence in the gloom, but Dean feels him there as intensely as he’d feel a roaring bonfire. His heart thuds in his ears.

Why is he freaking out? He’s slept in the car with Sam a million times. But even as he thinks that, he knows, he knows, that this is different. His brain starts whirling through logistics -- who’s gonna take the back seat? Is Cas even gonna sleep the whole night? Or will he wake up and just sit there, staring at Dean for hours, inches away?

Dean needs to shut off his brain. He taps the seat and says “Hey, Cas?”

“Yes, Dean,” comes the immediate response, measured and reassuring. “Would you like to talk?”

Relaxing against the seat and slinging an arm over the backrest, Dean peers over to the passenger side. “Sure.”

The moon’s out tonight, far above the trees, and the grayscale of nighttime slowly bleeds into view as Dean’s eyes adjust. He can just make out the sharp angle of Cas’ nose, the slope of his chest and the outline of his hands folded in his lap. He’s always so upright, so proper. Dean wonders what it would feel like to undo him.

“Are Sam and Eileen having sex?”

Dean chokes on air. Sputtering, he braces himself on the seat and coughs until his eyes stop watering. “What?” he wheezes. “Why-- Dude, why would you ask that?”

He sees Cas turn his head to regard him. Even in the dark, Dean can imagine the piercing gaze.

“It was unclear to me what you meant by ‘be a gentleman.’” Cas lifts his hands to shape the finger quotes. “I assumed the two of them would take advantage of their privacy to engage in physical intimacy. Was your comment meant to discourage Sam from having sex?”

Dean throws up his hands desperately. “Okay-- okay, first of all, quit talking about my brother doing it. And second, no, I wasn’t ‘discouraging’ him, just reminding him to treat Eileen like a lady. You know, romance her a little.”

The darkness is a godsend as Dean’s cheeks flush hotter with every word. He’s surprised they’re not glowing. He taps the seat in a random pattern as Cas sits quietly, seemingly digesting the information.

When he responds, it’s slow and thoughtful. “In the pornography I’ve watched, the participants always begin undressing one another rather quickly. And in my own experiences, there has been very little that I would label ‘romantic.’ What is classified as ‘romance,’ Dean?”

Well, shit. The last of Dean’s composure evaporates, sizzles away like a drop of water meeting his burning face. He drops his head into his hands and groans.

Cas leans forward, his knee brushing Dean’s. “Have I made you uncomfortable?” he asks, voice laden with concern.

Dean’s throat is tight, his fingers sweaty against his forehead. He forces himself to take a deep breath and to at least open his eyes against the shadow of his palms. “Uh-- no. No, Cas. You, uh-- you should be able to ask that kinda stuff. Human stuff. I get that it’s, uh-- it’s important to know. For, y’know. So you can--”

There’s a hand on his knee. A warm, strong hand. Long fingers. Weighty. Dean’s heart kicks into overdrive. He slowly, very slowly, lowers his hands to peek at Cas.

“How do you like to be romanced, Dean?”

There’s nothing. Absolutely nothing in Dean’s brain. It’s a chamber of silence. A void. He stares at the outline of Cas’ wild hair, mouth slightly open.

“...Dean?” The hand on his knee shifts slightly and Dean’s blank brain runs zero interference as his own hand darts out and stills the one threatening to leave his leg. As soon as his skin makes contact with Cas’, though, everything zings back online in a rushing roar.

Play it off, Winchester. Crack a joke. C’mon. “Hah, funny, buddy, you really got me there--”

“--Kissing’s nice.”

He snaps his mouth shut too late. The words float away, unrecoverable.

Cas tilts his head. Then, slowly, very slowly, as if he’s afraid of spooking Dean, he turns his hand around under Dean’s so that they’re palm to palm. An invitation.

With a pounding heart, Dean accepts it. He laces their fingers together. His palm feels even sweatier when it’s rubbing up against Cas’ dry, smooth skin.

Sexy, Dean. Way to go.

Somehow, even though it was Cas asking the questions, he’s the one leading now, shifting closer, laying his left arm along the backrest behind Dean’s shoulders. Their faces are so close that they’re sharing air, just two shadows suspended in a frozen moment.

“May I kiss you?” Cas murmurs gently, his breath washing over Dean’s lips. It smells like rain-refreshed air, like a promise of sunshine, alleviating the weight of the darkness. Dean tentatively chases it with his tongue, wetting his lips and leaving them parted.

“Yeah,” he whispers back. Because fuck, he wants this. He’s wanted this for so long.

And Cas wants it, too.

Dean always imagined that his first kiss with Cas would be an inferno, fireworks, showering sparks, all those cliches. That it would yank him from his body and send him floating through the ether.

It’s not like any of that. It’s better. It’s real.

Cas’ lips are just lips -- a little more chapped than Dean’s used to, perhaps, but they meet his in a familiar brush, followed by the typical tentative press, leading into a hesitant swipe of the tongue.

He’s kissing Cas. Cas, who he’s built up in his head for so long as this untouchable, impossible ideal, who stormed Hell to drag him out, who smote demons with his bare hands, who is so inconceivably old that Dean should be just a speck of sand under his eternal gaze.

Instead, that same Cas is busy dragging his fingers down the side of Dean’s neck. A crest of goosebumps follow, shivers trailing down Dean’s torso, and he gasps a quivery breath against Cas’ lips. He’s not used to being led. Normally he’s the one in charge, giving as good as he gets, focused on hitting the highlights, satisfying his partner. There’s a whole formula.

He’s never trembled like this before.

“Dean,” Cas whispers against his mouth, reverent, his voice somehow gravelly even as a breath. He suddenly pulls his hand free from Dean’s and grips his bicep, dropping his other arm from the backrest to wrap around Dean’s waist. Without preamble, he twists, tugging Dean across his lap. Dean yelps and hurriedly adjusts his legs, ending up with his knees on the seat, straddling Cas’ thighs. His fingers and toes are zinging in excitement.

Goddamn. Who knew being manhandled would do it for him?

The crown of his head presses against the roof of the car and he slouches forward until their foreheads are touching. He pushes his hands into Cas’ hair.

Cas surges forward again, nudging Dean’s head to the side and pressing his lips to Dean’s neck. Dean groans, low and shaky, as Cas parts his lips and sucks a trail up to Dean’s earlobe, his tongue soothing in the wake of his mouth, dragging over every mark that he coaxes to the surface. Dean knows his neck will be littered with bruises tomorrow, but he finds he can’t bring himself to care, not when Cas’ teeth are busy grazing the shell of his ear.

“Jeez, Cas,” he breathes, dropping his forehead to Cas’ shoulder. He's hard already, hips twitching a little, but he keeps his hands firmly in Cas’ hair, tugging the soft, thick strands, guiding Cas’ mouth back down to his neck. His pulse hammers under each press of chapped lips.

He pulls back and captures Cas’ mouth again, sliding his tongue into that wet heat. They trade open-mouthed kisses, a bit sloppy, while Cas’ hands glide up Dean’s back under his flannel. Dean’s absolutely flying, his pounding heart easily winning the battle against the tiny voice in his head dredging up reasons to stop, reasons to run.

He wants to stay .

Their kisses have escalated to a panting, frenzied give-and-take, and Dean’s tired of hunching over. He drops his hands onto Cas’ shoulders and starts leaning back over to the driver’s seat, trying to pull Cas on top of him. Cas whines when their lips separate, but he catches on quickly. A little too quickly. He grips Dean’s waist and shifts him along the bench seat with such force that Dean’s arm goes flying and his elbow smacks right into the middle of the steering wheel.

The horn blares, rending the night.

Both Dean and Cas jerk upright, instantly on high alert. Reality takes a moment to catch up with them.

Cas recovers first. “That startled me,” he says, voice wrecked.

Dean lets out a long breath. He’s still got one leg up on the seat, the other one cramped awkwardly next to the steering wheel. He drags a hand across his face and lets out a breathy laugh. The next thing he knows, he’s doubled over, laughing so hard his cheeks hurt and his eyes water.

He’s just so goddamn happy.

Cas watches him, head tilted in the shadows. Dean lets his laughter run its course, petering out with a sigh of mirth and hand slapped on Cas’ knee.

“What a night, huh?” he says.

Cas lifts a hand and strokes Dean’s cheek with his knuckles. Even after all that making out, this one gesture seems inordinately intimate. But Dean just smiles.

Cas swipes his thumb over Dean’s cheekbone one more time before slowly, almost reluctantly, letting his hand fall. “You need to sleep.”

Dean nods and glances into the backseat. “You do too, don’t you? At least a bit? Maybe we can both fit back there.”

They get out of the car -- the cool night air rushes into Dean’s lungs and fizzes through his chest, bringing the events of the past half hour into blood-rich focus in his brain. He steels himself for the freakout, for the doubt and the deflection, but it doesn’t come. He feels right.

They crawl into the backseat, awkwardly shuffling and shifting, ending up with Cas sitting mostly upright (insisting that he’s fine) and Dean laid out on the seat with his head in Cas’ lap.

He drops off to sleep faster than he has a long time, Cas’ long fingers carding through his hair.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s the light that wakes him, pale gray seeping under his lashes and rousing him from a blissfully dreamless sleep. He lifts his head and immediately winces -- his neck is stiff as a board and his back aches all the way down to his tailbone. He’s really getting too old to be sleeping in the car.

“Hello, Dean.”

Dean twists around and peers blearily up at Cas, who’s gazing down at him with one of his rare enigmatic smiles. Dean yawns and stretches as best he can, his back popping. He pushes himself up until he’s sitting next to Cas.

“Mornin’, sunshine.”

Cas leans over and, before Dean can react, presses a warm, dry kiss to Dean’s cheek.

Sore body or not, this is the best morning of Dean’s life.

They extract themselves from the backseat and stumble into the damp early-morning air. Dean pops the collar of his flannel after a single glance into the side mirror. He’s got a lot of hickies.

They take a second to stretch (Dean admires the way Cas’ pecs shift under his dress shirt as he reaches for the sky) before sliding into the front seat. Dean backs them out of the logging road, the verdant green pines on either side nearly overwhelming his night-accustomed eyes.

Cas calls Sam as they roar down the highway again. It’s only 5 a.m., but Dean handed Cas the phone and told him to give Sam a wakeup call. The kid deserves it after a good night’s sleep in a real bed.

They pull into the parking lot of the Cedar Crest Motel just past 5:30. Dean ends up having to park on the street, though, because the lot’s at capacity, not a single spot unoccupied. He pats Baby in apology as he leaves her, and he and Cas make their way to the room number that a very irritated, cranky Sam snapped at them over the phone.

They’ve almost reached it when Dean suddenly stops dead. He grabs Cas’ arm. Cas shoots him a questioning glance.

“Look." Dean points up at the motel sign. There, huge red letters, blinking through the pale morning light, spell out a clear VACANCY.

“It’s hardly been six hours," Dean says. "No one would’ve checked out in the middle of the night.”

Suspicion rising rapidly, he strides to Sam’s door and knocks as obnoxiously as he can. As soon as the door creaks open, he reaches through and grabs Sam’s shirt, yanking him outside. Sam protests and slaps at Dean with one hand, shoving his bird’s nest hair out of his face with the other.

“What the hell, Dean!”

Dean just throws one arm up at the sign, staring at Sam with raised eyebrows. As soon as Sam sees what he’s pointing at, he shrinks into what Dean immediately recognizes as guilty little brother posture. He’s not even trying to hide it.

Sam clears his throat awkwardly, eyes darting between Dean and Sam, before holding out a placating hand. “I just-- I just thought, maybe you could use some time alone,” he explains hastily, backing up a bit into the room. “If we all ended up here, Dean, you’d insist that we share, you know you would.”

Dean knows Sam’s right (he’s careful with their fake money, so sue him), but he keeps glaring regardless.

“I just wanted some time with Eileen,” Sam mumbles, deflating a bit. “And I thought, y’know, with how you and Cas have been acting lately, that you’d-- uh, that you’d want some time together, too.”

Dean sputters. “Acting? We-- what--”

“Thank you, Sam,” Cas says, deep voice cutting off Dean’s protests. “We had a very pleasant night.”

Sam’s eyes widen and he straightens up, a knowing grin stretching over his face. His eyes dart to Dean’s popped collar. “Oh yeah? Did you now?”

Dean shoves him into the room and slams the door shut. There. He turns to Cas, who looks amused.

“Give me at least a couple days before blabbing to my brother,” Dean says, but he finds himself smiling. Cas nods. He reaches out and takes Dean’s hand, just for a moment, squeezing before letting it fall again.

“Of course, Dean.”

#suptober21 #no vacancy #gotta love some cramped car kissing #scheming sam strikes again #destiel fanfic

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semischarmed · 4 years

Text

Chrysalis

People say that college is where you “find yourself” and I can’t help but agree. It’s just, well, how I truly found myself was through my roommate Kyle. Or rather, inside him.

How to describe Kyle? He’s basically the perfect roommate. He’s kind, quiet, studious, relatively clean. He goes to soccer practice for some kind of campus league every weekend. Kyle is also rushing one of the frats on campus- Sig something or the other, so I get quite a few long nights to myself. Long, hot nights where I can’t help but scramble over to his side and pleasure myself in a pile of dirty Kyle-scented undergarments. The biggest treats were the nights when he had to do his frat stuff after a match. The nights when I could slip on his unwashed sweaty gear and just lie in the bliss of being surrounded in him. Every few days, we go out to grab a bite to eat and shoot the shit- the guy’s been a great friend to me, despite his typical serious demeanor. Since he was rushing this semester, he’s been busier and busier but he still makes time for me, even inviting me to some of his soccer team or frat bro hangouts. What can I say? I lucked out with Kyle. Still, I’m a greedy son of a bitch, and I wanted more of him.

I decided fairly early on that I would possess him, make him wholly mine. I can’t even quite explain why Kyle specifically. He’s cute-sure, tone-definitely, but he isn’t super buff, he isn’t red-carpet-movie star hot, so it’s really hard to place why, out of anyone I could take in this entire school, I decided he would be my target. My forever home. Something about him was just enticing. Maybe it was the way his coffee brown eyes relayed a sense of mystery and serious matters, but lit up with the faintest twinkle of amusement when he recapped his games. Or maybe the way his body only gave me the briefest of glimpses at his musculature when he switched shirts. Maybe it was his kindness, unexpectedly bright for a frat-boy-soccer-star-roomate. Or maybe the way his scent lingered in the room after a workout. God, that scent. Pleasant, warm, humid, musky- like summer rain. Doesn’t matter. I wanted him. I wanted to spend my every moment with him. In him. I wanted to be wrapped up in Kyle’s flesh till the end of time, to wake up with Kyle’s eyes, to take every breath with his lungs, feel every beat of his heart pump as mine.

This possession was going to be special. I prepped for weeks- months even. Truthfully, it’s not all that difficult to possess someone for sometime and when you’re as good at it as I am, you can even maintain it indefinitely by putting the smallest pieces of yourself in them. Kyle would be different. Full, integrative possession- a one-way ticket. I wanted this shit to be permanent. I was going to stuff my entire physical form inside his. To take someone at their core, to violate every law of nature both physical and metaphysical- this, this needed setup, needed planning, needed Kyle to be present during the entire process. Therein lies the issue- how to get a lucid Kyle to sit still long enough for me to complete the slow process of integrating to him.

I came to the conclusion that a catalyst of sorts was necessary. Something that could lock us in together physically, could stop him from leaving or stopping process, could break open after let the new and improved me emerge. Guess who drafted plans for a one such catalyst? Guess who switched majors to Material Science, who befriended a professor just to figure out a good semi-permeable material to use? No one can say I didn’t love him- at least in my own special way. After weeks of trial, weeks of iteration, I decided on a tight-fitting, sleeping-bag-esque contraption. The material and shape were special- virtually impossible for a human being to break out of, kept fluids in but let some air flow through for ventilation, shaped such that we could only fit directly stacked on top of each other, leaving him unable to escape the process. I also set the release mechanism in the back, so only a completed Kyle could escape. Like any good invention, I gave it a name befitting its purpose: Chrysalis.

I settled on a day where he would be weakest- cardio day, a day where I could easily slip some compound into his post workout mix. I finished preparations with the chrysalis, secretly hidden in his bed.

“Hey dude, sup?” He asks nonchalantly with a slight head nod, as he enters our room, visibly tired from the workout. “Nothing, man” I reciprocate in amusement. I watch in secret anticipation as he downs his special post-workout mixture, scratches his cock through his boxers- unconcerned, comfortable, and gives off a loud yawn. “Hey man, I-I-don’t....feel..” I rush to help him, corralling the grimy, tired, post-workout Kyle into place. He asleep almost immediately. I strip us both naked, marveling at my new vessel. Damn. A light pelting of hair covers the deceptively muscular soccer star. A blanket of sweat surrounds him while a bit of the spiked post workout drink pools at the corners of his plump lips. Deliciously plump lips beckoning for a taste. I aim to lick it off and give him a kiss before I immediately realize what the repercussions would be. Shit. Close call. I stroke his hair, leaning in to tell him how much I wanted this. I take a quick sniff at his pits, at his groin and god they smell fantastic. I roll him to his side, as I take my naked form beside him and pull the Chrysalis around ourselves. I roll to have my back face the bed and the bottom of my cocoon, pulling Kyle on top of me and engaging the the contraption to wrap around us. I find the button to tighten it, effectively locking the position of our stacked bodies in place. I find the final button to lock the Chrysalis into its release valve. No going back.

When I seal us together in my little love cocoon, I begin to feel the gravity of his form above mine, slick with perspiration. My future body was dense, probably from years of building muscle, perfectly tempered, toned, streamlined by every game, every win. Inside our encasement, I rocked back and forth, getting into as comfortable of a position as I could and rubbing our sweaty bods together. I lock my legs around his, intertwine our fingers together and wait patiently for Kyle to come to.

The scent was indescribable, orgasmic even. I’ve never felt closer to him. I am in tune with his slightest movements as he lay on top. With every breath, every inhale our bodies rise and fall in sync. With every steamy inhale I draw in his breath. like we were breathing in each other. No one else deserved to experience Kyle this way, not even his girlfriend Steph. Kyle was mine and mine alone. With mine still intertwined with his, I drag Kyle’s limp hands around his belly, his light abs, give him a feel for himself.

An intrusive wave of uncertainty hits me. Oh god what am I doing? Am I really doing this? This, this is unnatural. I release my hands from his grasp and reach them around him, lightly dancing them across my future body and feeling the new vessel so close, feeling his damp, gently sculpted abs for myself, squeezing his supple ass. Stupid natural order shit. I tug on his hefty, limp dick, which begins to harden involuntarily at my provacation. This is mine. Fuck the natural order, not giving you up baby.

He wakes, disoriented in the Chrysalis. “Uh...I...What the fuck...” Panic sets in, as he feels my immobile flesh behind him and he tries to get his bearings to no avail. He keeps moving back and forth, trying to dislodge himself from the Chrysalis, from me, but it’s far too tight and too strong. I made sure of that. “Oh god, oh god...” he trails as he tries to rationalize the past events. I decide at that point to reveal my identity, faking the sounds of myself waking up before sleepily asking him “Kyle? Uh... w-what are you doing here? What are we doing? W-Where is this? Did you do this? Kyle? Kyle!” I’m a shitty actor but he seems to have bought it. I relish the moment when he sighs in relief at the realization that the naked form on his back was mine. I guess he trusts me. Cute, but you shouldn’t trust me, Kyle.

“Oh thank god, dude I don’t know, I just woke up. I- uh- sorry, I’m gonna try to get us out of this thing,” He states as he wiggles to try to release us from my cocoon. And fuck did that feel good.

“Mmmmm Kyle” I trail, as my dick starts to harden and poke at his ass. The wiggling does not helping him, as every movement gets me harder and pushes my dick further in him.

“Oh! EW! Fuck! What the fuck man!” He shouts, before he realizes all this was turning me on. “Fuck dude stop!” he exclaims.

“Why would I stop this, baby, we’re just getting started.” I give his back shoulder a quick lick. “I’m gonna make you feel like a new man”.

“Y-You! YOU! You did this! the Fuck! Get me out of here!!” He spat, only for it to rain back on to us through gravity.

He squirms, trying to escape once more only to be met with the Chrysalis’ tight hold on our forms and my engorged cock. “Only one person can come out of this thing” I moan, as I start gyrating myself into him. “Get the fuck off me, Fag!” He screams in vain as parts of me already start connecting into him. The parts of his body connected to mine light up, like sparks dancing across mine. Euphoria. “There’s that soccer rage” I state seductively as I wrap my arms around his torso and abs and push us impossibly closer. “Suits you... suits...me”.

By this point, My body was halfway submerged into his and he finally starts to feel my nerves, my cells as his. With our shared senses, he feels my arms pushing us together as if his own self was doing the deed. “AHHHH OH MY GOD. Oh! nonononono” He exclaims in terror. He is reduced to incoherent babbling as he smells the suffocating concoction of his post-workout filth. The air is thick and brimming with pheromones. He is reduced to disgust, when he tastes the droplets in the air of our putrid selves locked inside my Chrysalis. Of course, in our connected state, I taste them too, only I love this taste. His taste. Our taste. I can only moan as I continue merging into him and my limbs and his are one. I feel my new biceps as I trace them around the new me. Tone. Nimble. Champion. And I feel my new, experience-tempered legs. Vascular. Virile. Powerful. I’m a goddamn athlete.

Animalistic, guttural sounds escape his mouth as the last of my torso and neck coalesce into his, and all that remains is my head, firmly planted to the back of his. I take a deep whiff of his now-drenched hair with our new, shared, workhorse lungs. “We’re so close, baby.”

Inserting myself into his mind was equally orgasmic. He screams at contact. The first plunge of my forehead tp the back of his was some useless frat shit. Whatever. I dig my head deeper into him and felt his years of soccer practice leak into me. More goodstuff. Then deeper still- and fond memories with friends, fond memories of school bleed into me. I plunge further and further in, taking in every piece of him I could, while he pants and winces at my insertion. His first kiss, grandfather’s funeral, deepest urges all MINE. Fuck. I pull back slightly, as I feel his him gently sob, before I push more myself deeper into his psyche. He screams at the injection of more of my memories and at the realization that this was a one way trip for both of us. “FUCK! FUCK! Stop Please! Too much! Too much!” I mentally sneer as I thrust even deeper into his mind, grabbing some more of him, and leaving more of myself. Childhood memories and feelings flood into my mind and I experience everything that has led to Kyle becoming Kyle. The feeling of winning my first game. The feeling I felt the first time I masturbated. More. Kyle’s deep love for Steph.

Damn, this guy was ready to pop the question and start a family with her-Not Anymore baby. You’re with me now, Kyle. I corrode this particular aspect of him with my own innermost desires. My perversions, the pure lust I felt in finally taking him. He laughs, moans at the lust he now had, before catching himself.

“Oh god what... doing... me!” he whimpers as his body convulses and drools. Our shared pupils dilate at the process as his body thrashes in futility. And yet, I press into him deeper still. Deeper and deeper inside until all but the very last of my old self is left. His deepest secrets, his dreams, self worth belong to me. He cries, mouth mumbling incoherently into a crescendo as I worm in that last bit my head into his and my own life become his. My old body’s childhood memories, My old thoughts, feelings, knowledge, secrets flood his. I give all of it to my new self, ingraining me in him, and cementing us together.

“AHHHH DAMN IT! Fuck Fuck! get-get the fuck out!” he screams as his hands start pulling on his hair, as his head shakes left and right trying to get the intrusion of my mind out of his. He recoils as I briefly take control. “No way dude, this [moan] oh god this is fucking great.” We continue panting, continue convulsing as his body is forced to accept me. “M-My name is Kyle, and I feel fucking good!” He shakes a bit more. “STOP-“ I cut in to force him to tell me “God I fucking love you inside me. Take me! Use me!” He begins gently sobbing, but I make him do it with a smile. “My name is Kyle and I’m a sick fuck who’s gonna cum inside and possess his closest friends”. I make us moan.

Eventually, the seizing stops, and Kyle finds a moment of clarity. With my memories in him, He finds the release built into the Chrysalis and we emerge out of our slick cocoon as one. Sweat and cum trickle out as we come out a new man. A changed man. He walks to mirror in horror, checking himself to look for any wounds in his form. Instead he finds pulsing of my flesh-or what used to be my flesh-at various parts of his body beneath his skin. Abberant. Inhuman.

“Oh god oh god oh god this-this-this, this can’t be happening”. My new heart quickens as Kyle continues to panic. He tries to slap himself awake, but with each slap my control tightens and I make him moan in approval. He feels impossibly full with something-someone pulsing deep inside his skin, integrating. A natural violation of the highest order. He whimpers as he takes nervous, shaking hands all around him, feeling the intrusiveness of the eroticism I feel in being in him. The pulsing in him stops. “Keep going, baby [moan] fill me up. Make me you,” I force him to tell me with a tone that oozed sex. A tone that was alien to his voice. “My name is Kyle and I love dick. I love dick because the man inside me, the man controlling my every action loves dick. And he’s never leaving me. I love that too, because he’s inside me, making me love that.”

“Kyle I’m giving you one last morsel choice before I take it all the way- I decide everything for us from now on” I state to my reflection in the mirror, giving it a slobbery kiss. “We got a cute ass...I’m sure we can snag a few more bodies to play with... I wanna get a little party going. You know, our teammates are pretty cute, aren’t they? Maybe we can stick some me inside them”. I make him lick his lips. “Your frat bros are pretty cute too [moan] you wanna be frat president? I can arrange that, once I make you put me inside them...I’m getting ahead of myself... Let’s start with one. Pick someone...someone we can take, can use, can fuck” I force his face into an out of place, lustful, deranged smile before returning control to him. “Stay the fuck away from my bros! I..... uh...sorry. S-Sorry for shouting. Just please-please! Get out!” he whimpers in desperation, before descending into more hysteric sobbing. Hysteric sobbing which becomes cute, unsettling giggling, which becomes a roaring laughter as I wrestle back control of my new meat-suit. I wipe his tears off my new face, giving it a quick taste before taking a tour of the new me. “You and I both know there is no going back. The old me? Doesn’t exist. I am You, now. This is your body doing these actions, your brain thinking these thoughts”.

A tremor begins from our extremities, limbs become numb as our shared nerves light up in stimulation. More internal sparks fly through us. This was it. Like an earthquake in my new body, a wave of new feelings wash over me, rocking me to my core. The world around us shook, as the final pieces of my physical self interlocks with his and two become one.

I reach down to pleasure myself, before deciding instead to first push Kyle’s consciousness to the front so he can watch. This would be my first time in this body. Lets make it special. I do a quick reverse crunch, holding the position. Fucking easy in this body. And then pull the crunch close till the body starts to struggle “Arrgh Fuck! Stop!” he screams. I pull even further and he cries from the uncomfortable position I put us in. “This is mine now” I state with his voice, “I decide how far..[pant]..how far we go” And decide I do, as I pull us even further back, prompting another pained “FUCK” from Kyle. I line my growing hard on-our growing hard-on, up to our shared mouth. “Look.. look at what you can do” I moan as him, before letting his consciousness back in front, leaving only control of his face. He is in hysterics as I keep him locked in his position and continue breaking this new bod.

“Look at what we’re capable of when I’m driving” I state in our shared mind. His head thrashes back and forth before I freeze it in place. I take brief control of just his plump lips and mouth, and position his thick dick inside. Fuck we taste good. Salty, with the smallest hint of bitterness. I continue, pumping head faster and faster, forcing my occupant to feel every motion. We make little noise beyond the soft smacking sounds as we continue. The feeling was fucking euphoria. Im sure he feels it too, since he’s been uncharacteristically quiet. I’ve seen him do his warmup stretches before. I knew what he was capable of- with just a little push from me. When he shoots, when I let him shoot, I keep our shared mouth firmly wrapped around our engorged dick, guzzling our creation greedily. This mouth cannot contain it all and a bit spill below. Even more dribbles out of as I slowly release our position. Wet cum spills and pools on our shared chest and abs. I smear it around like a lotion.

I jump and stretch myself into straight standing abruptly, forcing a slight jolt of pain from previously contorting this new body in a way it never had to before. His blood rushes through me, through us, and I let out a sigh of relief and contentment in the afterglow of my possession. I lick my new self clean, exploring all of Kyle’s crevices, before I coat our mouth in my new seed for a taste and swallow the excess in one gulp. We taste Delicious. Kyle, you sexy, tasty fuck, I knew there was something different about you. That last stunt seemed to have satisfied him as he recedes into me. I am in a dreamy smile as I tap my head gently with my finger. “All me now”.

The alarm on Kyle’s phone-my phone rings suddenly. Oh Shit. Kyle-er I had a game in a few minutes. I head over to the field with a breeze behind me, to the sight of slight discomfort and subtle gagging from my teammates. Fuck that. Smell more of me motherfuckers. They smile with strained faces as we do some small warmups for the game. His teammates really were cute- I briefly consider possessing them right there in broad daylight. Fuck it, what can anyone fucking do? I’m Kyle. And when Kyle wants something, Kyle gets it. Still, I only came for a test drive, so I decide to postpone their fates.

The match was tense. My teammates were alright, sure. But Kyle? Me? I played his body like an expert- no movement wasted, every single action carefully considered and executed. It was my brain in here after all. Onlookers stared in awe as, almost inhumanly, I block everything that goes my way. Despite my brain’s expert calculation, his body also deserved to praise. His muscled legs gliding my form through the grass, effortlessly, the twisting his body at just the right spot for the most efficient block. This body following my every command, like I’ve owned it for years. The old me was not one for sports, but this? Working his musculature into these complex maneuvers? Straining his form to just the right amount to maximize performance? Bliss. I can see why some people like this shit. The more I move through him, the closer I felt. Despite my heavy panting at the end, I can’t help but feel energized. Being in him is invigorating. I could keep going at this for days and days- this was truly an athlete’s body.

I do a little dance as, in the end, we squeeze a 1-0 victory. All thanks to me, of course. My teammates brace themselves slightly-likely from the deep, concentrated musk and gallons of sweat I was emanating- before they surround me in a group huddle. New and improved Kyle is kinky little shit though, so I grab and pull their sweaty bodies uncomfortably close, and then squeeze them to me even closer so they can leave with the scent of my sweat on them. They recoil at my actions, at my words, as the normally stoic Kyle gently coos “Great job, team”. They laugh nervously and try to pull away, but I keep them in the embrace just an awkward second too long, sniffing each of them and remarking them. One day, you’ll all be mine.

After the game, I return to our room and look at my sweaty, dirty self in the mirror. I take a whiff of the freshly filthy soccer game and soccer team smells we impregnate our room with. I take a quick sniff of our shared armpits, deciding to forgo showering this bod. Exquisitely noxious. Not getting rid of this.

I called his girlfriend Steph to break up abruptly over phone, citing my “newfound” sudden onset homosexuality. She was upset, understandably, but supportive. Really, I had no issues with the girl, and in another life, we’d be best friends fawning over the same straight dude. But this was Kyle, new-Kyle, new-gay-Kyle-who-only-loves-possessed-dick. My Kyle. He was mine, and mine alone.

Having finished my short list of post-takeover errands, my new self was on the prowl for some new recruits, new bodies to take, to possess, to pleasure me. Since he never really gave me an answer to my question earlier, I search through the remnants of the Old Kyle in my mind, force them to give me the name of someone to to take. I smiled. In the echoes of my mind, one face, one name reverberated in my head.

Red.

I start giggling in a cute tone, out of place coming out of jock Kyle before I break out into a full cackle. “Kyle, you sick, sick, fuck...Red? Big Bro Red? After all he’s done to try to bond with you? Sick, incestuous son of a bitch.” I let out a soft moan as I drag my new vascular hands all over myself, stopping at my new nipples to give them a slight tickle, and my eyes flutter. I give them a hard twist, whining in elation when his body delivers the sensations to me. The smells we’ve been emitting has been pungent, concentrated, putrid from that sweaty group hug earlier. “Traitorous, depraved fucks like me don’t deserve a shower” I make him say in dirty whispers.

Red was Kyle’s big bro at the frat, and someone I had only met once previously. Once was enough to leave an impression. Unlike cute, naturally introspective, reserved athlete Kyle, Big Bro Red was extroverted, artsy, and fucking hot. Apparently, he’s been trying to connect to Kyle ever since the two were paired. Well, Kyle’s under new management, and I planned to use every bit of their tenuous relationship to get Big Bro Red under that same management. This was going to be fun.

I am stopped abruptly as my phone vibrates. “Hey, wanna grab a bite to eat?” I close my eyes in sweet satisfaction, lick my lips seductively and shift my mouth into a filthy smile when I catch the name of who it’s from:

Red.

—————End—————

Took a bit of inspiration from some past stories I’ve read in writing this one. The story implies a continuation but I’m still a bit on the fence. Hope you liked it/ Happy New Year’s!

#male possession #male body control

611 notes · View notes

dreamwraith · 3 years

Text

Teleport

Summary: Danny finally learned how to teleport, but where is the 'off' switch? Pairings: Hints of Sam crushing on Danny Warnings: Danny accidentally teleports into the girl’s locker room, but only for a few seconds; he’s as startled as they are. Danny and Tucker have a no-homo thing going on, they should probably just hug it out already.

On Ao3

"Hey! Sam! Sam, wait up!"

Sam glanced over her shoulder. When she saw Tucker chasing after her with an anxious look on his face, she stopped walking down the sidewalk. Tucker was able to reach her in no time, but he had to bend over and gulp in large breaths afterward.

"Something wrong, Tucker?" she asked after giving him a few seconds to catch his breath. "I thought I was meeting you and Danny at school today?"

"Well, yeah," Tucker panted, "that was the plan, but…Have you seen Danny?"

She raised an eyebrow. "No. Why? Did something happen? Is he in trouble?"

Tucker waved his hand, chuckling between gasps. "No…well, yes…well, kind of…"

"Tucker…"

"No, he isn't in any real danger. Yes, his secret may be in jeopardy."

Sam widened her eyes. "His secret might be in what? What happened exactly?"

Tucker stood up straight, using his beret to wipe his sweaty forehead. "Well, this morning, while Danny and I were walking to school, he had a breakthrough on teleporting. He practiced it a couple times by teleporting up and down the sidewalk when no one was around, getting farther and farther away. He was getting really good at it!"

"O-kay," Sam said slowly, "so somebody saw him doing this?"

"Um. No."

"What went wrong then?"

"Well, we were almost to school, so he changed back to Fenton. But a few seconds after he did, he disappeared and—"

POP!

"Tucker!" Danny jumped on Tucker. His best friend screamed and would have shot three feet in the air if Danny's Hug of Death was any less secure. "Finally! I've been trying to get back to you for who knows how long now! Oh, hey, Sam! Wait, where'd you come from?" He loosened his hold on the trembling Tucker and looked around. "This isn't where I left you, Tuck…"

"He came to find me after you apparently disappeared," Sam explained for their shell-shocked friend. "Danny, what's going on? Are—"

"I can't stop teleporting, Sam!" Danny all but shouted, unwrapping one arm from around Tucker so he could wave it around for emphasis. "One minute I'm walking peacefully down the sidewalk, the next I'm in my room! So far I've teleported to school three times, to the Ghost Zone twice, my room five times, yours once, Tucker's three, Vlad's house one time too many, and once I somehow ended up, like, fifty feet in the air! I can't control it!" He released Tucker, and latched onto Sam's shoulders, earning a surprised gasp from the Goth. "Make it stop, Sam! I can't take it anymore!"

"Danny, calm down!" She brushed Danny's hands off her shoulders, but he quickly grabbed her wrists. She scowled. "Danny, let go of me before I show a very incriminating photo of you and Tucker to Jazz."

Danny's hands flew away from Sam like she was an evil ghost in disguise. "I thought you burned that!" He hesitated before giving Tucker a one-armed hug again.

Sam smirked. "Why would I get rid of perfectly good blackmail material? Is there a reason you keep grabbing onto us, Danny?"

"Yeah, dude," Tucker said, finally regaining his wits enough to eye his strange friend. "It's getting awkward."

"I am being teleported all over the place without my consent," Danny reminded them, "can't I get a little sympathy from you guys?" They gave him bland, completely unsympathetic looks. "Alright, fine. By holding onto you stationary people, I'm hoping you will anchor me and stop me from teleporting."

"Wouldn't we just teleport with you though?" Sam asked.

Tucker's eyes grew large and he struggled against Danny's hold, but even in human form Danny was stronger than him.

"No," Danny grunted, "because it takes a lot of control to be able to teleport more than one person, and clearly I don't posses any control over this, whatsoever."

Tucker relaxed but his nose wrinkled. "It still feels awkward, Danny. Go hug, Sam."

"I'm not hugging you," Danny protested. "This is a manly arm grip!"

"It doesn't feel very manly."

"Doesn't look like it either," Sam said, smirking.

Danny huffed. "Fine." He dragged Tucker closer to Sam and then threw his other arm around her neck before she could protest. Sam gasped and struggled, upset—if her red face was anything to go by—but Danny started walking, and his friends were forced to follow. "Alright! Now this is teamwork!"

"More like kidnapping!" Sam shouted.

Tucker teased, "You know you like it, Sam."

"Oh, yeah, I just love to be held against my will."

"It's only until this stops," Danny tried to reason.

"Oh? And when will that be?"

"Uh…I don't know…"

She sighed, resigned. "This all started after you changed back into Danny Fenton, right?"

"Yeah…"

"Well, maybe you'll have more control of it if you're in your ghost form. Seems to me your ghost half would have more control over your powers than your human half would."

Danny hung his head, wishing he could face-palm without losing his anchors. "I should have thought of that…"

"That's what I'm here for. Now hurry up and change while the streets are empty."

Danny nodded, and in a flash of light, he became Amity Park's number one ghostly hero.

After a few seconds, Sam cleared her throat. "You'll have to let go of us to test this, Danny…"

Danny flinched. "B-but what if it doesn't work and I start teleporting like crazy again?"

"Then we'll just have to think of something else!" Sam hissed, "Now let go of us before somebody sees Danny Phantom hanging out with Danny Fenton's friends!"

Danny grimaced. He slowly, very slowly, released his best friends. They walked a few steps farther ahead before stopping and facing Danny again. He had his eyes pinched shut and his hands fisted at his sides.

"Did I teleport?" he asked, keeping his eyes sealed.

"No." Tucker chuckled. "But you look constipated. Loosen up, dude."

Danny cracked an eye open, but upon seeing the same setting as before, he grinned, and jumped in place. "Alright! Way to go, Sam!" He went to high five her, but seconds away from making contact, Danny became consumed by green mist. The mist disappeared along with Danny, followed by a popping sound.

Sam lowered her hand slowly, and exchanged glances with Tucker. "Uh, I guess it didn't work…"

Tucker sighed. "We might as well get to school, Sam. He's not going to show up here any time soon…"

-----------------

POP!

"Paradise Lost!"

Danny's momentum carried him through the motion of the high-five, but because Sam's hand wasn't there to meet his, his swat carried into a somersault in midair. "Whoa!" He righted himself and jerked his head from side to side. The faces staring up at him were familiar, but the location wasn't since only teachers and their favorites were allowed inside the teacher's lounge.

Danny laughed nervously. "Um, uh, whoops?"

Mr. Lancer was the first to regain his composure. He stood up and fixed his tie in a nervous habit. "Mr. …Phantom, what is the meaning of this?" Sweat noticeably broke out over his forehead.

Danny flushed. "Um, I'm having a few technical issues with my powers…" He cleared his throat and floated with his back straight, adopting his 'hero' voice. "Sorry for the inconvenience, citizens. I'll just be going…"

But after a few seconds, Danny still floated in place above their table, staring fixedly into space. The teachers looked at each other in confusion. The Art teacher pulled out a sketch pad and started sketching the focused Ghost Boy in profile.

"…Any second now…"

If they had crickets in the staff lounge, they'd be chirping.

"…Any second…"

Mr. Felucca stepped forward, his index finger poised in question. "What power are you having difficulties with, Mr. Ghost Boy? As a scientist, perhaps I can be of assistance."

Danny grimaced. "Uh, actually—"

Ms. Tetslaff slammed a fist on the table, and the sudden violence made Danny start in surprise. "If it's power he's having trouble with, it's me he should be coming to for help! I'll whip him into shape!"

He winced, and drifted away from her. "Uh, it's not really a physical power—"

"I have studied many classical stories that teach great, historical lessons," Mr. Lancer said. "Perhaps one of those will be of some use to you, Mr. Phantom?"

"Thanks, but I don't—"

The Mythology teacher scoffed. "Your literature is of no use to a being of exponential power. My myths have way more value to him than your 'fiction'."

"I don't need—"

The Psychology teacher snapped her fingers. "It may be psychological! Please feel free to tell me all about your problems. I'm here to help!"

"I don't have a psychological issue! Why does everyone always think that?"

Ms. Loretta gazed at Danny's skinny body with a critical eye. "Perhaps it has something to do with malnourishment. Do ghosts have to eat? I can make you something, boy."

"…Uh…no…"

The Government teacher trembled in his seat, staring up at Danny in fear. "W-we should call somebody about this! Call the Fentons! Call the Guys in White! They'll know what to do!"

The Art teacher reached out and pinched a fold of Danny's jumpsuit. "Is this latex?"

"Hey!" Danny knocked his hand away and floated a few paces away from him. "No touching!"

"We should give him a physical!"

"He needs to learn a moral lesson!"

"What he needs is more meat on his bones!"

"Oh, how am I going to capture that glow…"

"Something must be wrong with the inner workings of his mind!"

"The FENTONS!"

"Perhaps it is his molecular structure that is causing the problem!"

"QUIET!" Danny shouted. The teachers instantly quieted. "There is nothing wrong with my body, my mind, or my morals, alright? I just developed a new power and I'm having some difficulty controlling it. That's all!"

The teachers backed away from the panting ghost boy.

Mr. Felucca was the first to gather his courage. He asked, "What kind of power?"

Danny relaxed. "Teleport—"

POP!

The teachers gasped, and stared at the spot where the Ghost Boy had once been.

"NOOO!" the Art teacher cried, and threw down his half-complete sketch. "I was so close!"

-----------------

POP!

"—ation."

"Breach in Sector 8! We have a breach in Sector 8!"

Before Danny had a chance to gather his bearings, several ghost nets crashed into him and bound him to the floor. Where the net touched him, little bolts of electricity shot into his system like static jumping to a doorknob. Danny growled and struggled against the painful bindings, but the whirring of a ghost gun made him freeze. He looked up into the tinted sunglasses of a GiW operative.

"D-Don't move, Phantom!"

Danny's eyes half-lidded in boredom. "Oh great. The Mr. Clean Groupies…"

"Quiet, ghost," another agent ordered. "We have you surrounded."

Danny looked past the two standing over him. "Let me guess, the reinforcements are invisible?"

Danny wasn't able to see his eyes, but the second agent's brows furrowed, and his mouth turned down.. "I don't like your tone, boy."

Danny used his infamous cocky smirk. "Like I care? With only two agents, why should I worry? I could take you guys out easy."

The first agent, the one who had stuttered, gulped. Without warning, he shot at Danny.

Danny gasped, and dove to the side. He needn't have bothered, though. The shot was way off target. It crashed into the wall five feet behind Danny.

"Agent N!"

Danny eyed the scared agent warily. Like cornered wolves, frightened hunters packing heat were dangerous. "New agent?" he asked the other guy.

He grunted. "As green as they come. Listen, kid," he faced Agent N, "there is a rhythm to these things. We exchange witty banter, and then we start shootin' them."

Agent N nodded his head rapidly. "Y-yes, sir. Understood, sir! Should I tranquilize him, sir?"

"Wow, he is green."

The senior agent scowled. "Tranquilizers don't work on ghosts, recruit. Get your facts straight!"

Agent N stuttered apologies. Danny rolled his eyes and wished he would teleport out of there already.

"W-what do we do then, s-sir?"

The other agent grinned sadistically. "We shock him until he loses consciousness."

Danny flinched, but tried to hide it. "Gee, so humane. You must be very proud of your species."

"I am." The senior agent pulled a button switch out of his pocket, and poised his thumb above the large red button. Danny breathed in a deep breath, readying a Ghostly Wail. Passing out and transforming in front of them wasn't an option. "Or, I don't care about yours. Prepare yourself, ghost scum."

POP!

-------------------------------

POP!

The first thing Danny noticed was the absence of annoying static shocks. The second thing he noticed was the absence of everything else. Including air. He was really glad he took a deep breath before, though the breath was almost stolen from him when he looked down at the Earth. Like, the Earth, the blue planet Earth.

I'm in space! he thought, grinning goofily. He gazed around himself in wonder. He had been to space before, but he'd been too busy fighting to really admire the scenery.

Stars in every direction, as far as the eye could see, he was on the sunny side of the Earth, but he could see the moon poking out from behind the rocky planet. A comet was off in the distance, its ice and dust particles trailing behind it as the solar wind tore at the ice rock. He closed his eyes, and lights danced behind his eyelids as the solar wind hit him.

Danny sagged, and his expression became dreamy. It's so beautiful…this just makes me want to be an astronaut even more! I wish I could stay—Air! He gripped his throat. Air! I need air!

POP!

------------------------------

POP!

"Chronicles of Narnia!"

Danny gasped in air, like he'd never tasted anything so sweet. Space was awesome, but it'd be a lot better with oxygen.

"Danny Phantom!"

Danny spun around, and found his first period class staring up at him the same way he had stared at Outer Space. A nervous smile worked its way onto his lips. "I'm just dropping by. I'll be gone in a second, so please, don't let me interrupt."

The class started whispering to each other in excitement, looking like they were seconds away from mobbing him. In the back row, he saw Sam scowl. She hated his 'hero' voice. Tucker waved discreetly to him, and Danny subtly nodded back. He was glad Valerie didn't have his first hour…

"Mr. Phantom!"

Danny looked over his shoulder at Mr. Lancer. "Uh, hello again…"

Lancer frowned. "I take it you haven't fixed your 'problem'?"

"…No."

"Then perhaps you would like to sit in for my lesson," he said, smirking like he had just won a contest. "Perhaps you will learn something."

The students screamed. No longer able to contain themselves, they jumped out of their seats and rushed for Danny. He floated out of their reach, feeling nervous and slightly nauseous. Tucker and Sam joined them in order to keep up appearances, and Danny was annoyed to see Tucker filming it all on his PDA. His classmates gathered below him, shouting for autographs.

Danny backed away, breathing fast. "Uh, I don't know if that's such a good idea! Besides, I probably won't be here for much longer, or at least I really hope not, so I—"

POP!

-----------------------------------

POP!

"…and that is why, I believe we can use the town's little ghost problem to our…" Vlad trailed off when it became apparent he didn't have his audience's full attention. "…advantage…"

Despite the meeting being comprised of mostly professional reporters and self-important civilians, they were whispering rudely amongst each other, laughing and pointing at something behind Vlad. He looked behind him, but all he saw was the red curtain. His eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

"…As I was saying," Vlad said, turning back to the microphone on the podium, "with an interest in ghosts growing worldwide, more and more people will be traveling to Amity Park in search of the fabled beings—one in particular, I might add. I say we encourage this by building tourist attractions that will bring in large crowds of people."

"What?" a familiar voice exclaimed. Vlad smirked, his suspicion confirmed. Danny Phantom flew in front of him, his arms thrown out. "You can't bring more people here! I knew you were a fruitloop, Vlad, but this is going a bit far!"

"Ah," Vlad said suavely, "Amity Park's famous Ghost Boy. So nice of you to join us."

"Cut the crap, Vlad…er, Mr. Mayor…" Danny blushed and glanced over his shoulder at the flashing cameras and excited audience.

Vlad chuckled. "If it puts you more at ease, you're welcome to use my first name. It's the least I can do for our star attraction."

Danny refocused his righteous gaze on Vlad, but he floated to the side of him so his back was no longer to the cameras. "You can't bring tourists here, Masters."

"Oh? And why not? It'd be very profitable for this town."

"You mean it'd be very profitable for you," Danny corrected. "And you can't bring them here because, in case you haven't noticed, this town isn't very safe. The people living here know to run when a ghost attacks, but tourists will get closer because that's what they came to see. People could get seriously hurt…"

"Do you doubt your ability to protect them, little hero?" Vlad questioned, smirking mockingly. "We can use the funds the tourists bring in to hire more competent ghost hunters, so I assure you there is no need for such fear."

Danny scowled at the 'competent' part. "You're making a mistake, Masters. You can hire a hundred ghost hunters, but they won't be enough to—"

POP!

Vlad raised an eyebrow. Interesting… He hadn't expected the boy to develop his teleportation powers so soon, but his apparent lack of control more than made up for his accelerated growth. He'd make the boy suffer a while longer before he approached him.

He turned back to his murmuring audience. "Any questions?"

The crowd shot to their feet.

-------------------------

Ms. Tetslaff blew her whistle. Her students looked at her with hope in their eyes and sweat covering every inch of their exhausted bodies. "That's enough for today," she said. "Shower up, you lazy maggots!" The students silently cheered and limped toward the locker rooms.

Tucker almost fell over in relief. He'd take helping Danny fight ghosts over gym any day. He was tempted to curl into a ball and fake dehydration, just so he could sit and relax for a few seconds. Sadly, it was not to be. Sam bounced to his side, and Tucker for the second time that day cursed the girl's athleticism.

She grabbed his arm, and forced him to stumble toward the locker rooms. He muttered complaints, but being the good friend she was, she ignored them.

"Any sign of Danny since this morning?" she asked him quietly.

"Once," Tucker replied. Even his voice sounded tired. "He made a brief appearance in third period chemistry class, and I mean brief. He was there for all but five seconds, but it was still enough to disrupt the whole class and get us out of homework." He grinned. "It was awesome! What about you?"

Sam shrugged. "He popped into second period Art Class. Everybody started sketching him, including Mr. Coal." She smirked. "Danny looked so embarrassed."

Tucker chuckled. "I bet. How long did he stay?"

"Five or ten minutes. There were a lot of disappointed groans after he disappeared, but Mr. Coal managed to finish. It looks really cool too…I also heard he made an appearance for History Class, and Government." She rolled her eyes. "The Government teacher tried to call the Guys in White, but he got taken captive by his class."

Tucker laughed. "Oh man! I wish I had seen that!"

"We can ask Danny all about it once we see him again," Sam pointed out. "If he stays long enough…"

Tucker chuckled.

They split into their gender specific locker rooms, waving goodbye. Still chuckling, Tucker grabbed his shower supplies and strolled into the shower area. Because of a recent ghost attack, tarps littered the area, for once creating some much needed privacy. Too bad Danny was missing it. Mr. Modesty would most definitely appreciate the seclusion.

Tucker stripped down, and was just about to turn on the water when…

POP!

"Tucker!"

Tucker jumped.

Danny nearly hugged him like he had that morning, but he stopped at the last second. He pulled slowly away, making a face. "Uh, you're my best friend and everything, Tuck," he said, "and I love you like a brother, but I am so not touching you when you're naked…"

Tucker hurriedly wrapped his lower half in his towel. "Well no asked you to!" He looked at his best friend, noticing the tousled white hair, the tear in his jumpsuit, and the way his eyes twitched and darted around the room. "Having a rough day, Danny?"

"Like you wouldn't believe!" Danny pulled on his own hair—explaining why it was so messy—and stared at Tucker with unnaturally large eyes. "I never know where I'm going, or when I'm going there! It's all completely random! And I've seen things, Tuck! I've seen things…"

Tucker held his fists against his naked chest, mocking a scared expression. "Were they dead people?" he whispered.

Danny blinked, scowled, and crossed his hands over his chest, sulking. "Oh yeah, ha ha. Laugh at the poor kid who just saw Ember and Skulker making out."

Tucker's jaw dropped and his face turned slightly green.

Danny smirked. "Yeah! Not so funny now, is it!"

POP!

Tucker stared at the empty space before him for a moment, wondering where his traveling friend would end up next.

------------------------------

POP!

It happened very fast.

Danny saw what every straight guy dreams about, committed it unintentionally to memory, and was then deafened by shrieks. He screamed too and quickly covered his eyes with his hands. He turned around and tried to fly out of the Girl's Locker Room, but he forgot to go intangible, and he crashed into the lockers. The girls started throwing towels, hairbrushes, and other items at him.

"Sorry! I'm sorry!" he shouted over their screams, cowering in a corner. "I have no control over where I'm going!"

POP!

------------------------------------

POP!

Danny was never so glad to hear that sound. Still, he stayed in a fetal position, too afraid to see where he had teleported to. Maybe if I stay still, he thought desperately, I won't teleport!

"It's alright, Danny," a kind and familiar voice said. "You're safe here."

Danny opened his eyes slowly, and stared up at Clockwork. The Time Ghost in, the form of an old man, smiled kindly back down at him.

Danny grinned and jumped to his feet. "Clockwork! Man, am I glad to see you! Listen, you have to help me! I can't stop teleporting everywhere, and I'm seeing things I really don't want to be seeing, going places I shouldn't be going, and you probably already know about all of this, because you're the Master of Time and everything, but I have to tell you because—"

"Danny, you have something on—"

"—I'm freaking out here, because I can't stop teleporting—"

"Danny, your head—"

"—and I'm seeing things I should not be not be seeing, and it won't stop, Clockwork, make it stop!" Danny leaned his head against his Guardian/mentor's chest, whimpering pathetically. "Make it stop…"

Clockwork hesitated, unsure. He reached up a hand, and patted Danny awkwardly on the shoulder. "I…I'm sorry, Danny," he said, sounding sincerely apologetic. "It's not my place to help you."

Danny's shoulders slumped in defeat. He drew away from the timeless ghost and shook the hand off his shoulder. "Yeah…I should have figured that…Sorry for putting you on the spot, Clockwork."

Clockwork changed into a toddler. He sighed, and shook his head. "There is nothing to apologize for, Danny. You ask far less of me than most ghosts. However," his tone made Danny glance despondently up at him, "I can tell you it will end soon."

Danny straightened, and his eyes brightened with hope. "Really?"

The Time Master nodded sagely. "Indeed." He smirked, and it was very odd to see such a sarcastic look on a kid's face. "By the way, Danny. You have something on your head."

Danny frowned. He brought his hand to his head and pressed down, immediately feeling something lacy. He grabbed it and brought it down to eye level. It was a white bra. Danny let out a half-yelp and quickly tossed it away from him. He wiped his hand against his pants, making a face.

Clockwork chuckled, now a middle-aged man. "I thought you were over the 'cootie' stage by now, Danny."

Danny grimaced. "I'm fourteen, and I have an older sister. You do the math."

Clockwork nodded. "Fair enough. You have ten seconds before you teleport again."

Danny looked dismayed. "So soon? Can you tell me where I'm going?"

"Home, Danny. To Fenton Works." Danny smiled in relief. "But you won't get a warm welcome."

He frowned. "What do you mean by that?"

"Five…"

"Clockwork!"

"Four…"

"I can't believe you're counting down!"

"Three…"

"Whoever heard of Master of all Time counting down the time?"

"Two…"

"'Hey, I'm Clockwork! I'm counting down because I'm awesome like that—'"

"One."

POP!

--------------------------------

POP!

"GHOST!"

"Ghost!"

"Warning! Warning! Ecto-entity in the lab."

Danny blinked. "Wow. What a welcome home…"

His mom grabbed an ecto gun off one of the lab tables and shot at Danny. He gasped and quickly dove beneath it, escaping the shot by a hair. Jack shot a net at Danny, but it missed him completely. Still in a ball, it ricocheted off the wall and expanded over Maddie, knocking her to the ground and sending her gun flying. Danny clamped his hands over his mouth, trying to smother his giggles.

"Jack!" Maddie shouted angrily, struggling inside the net.

"Sorry, sweet cheeks!" Jack dropped the net launcher and grabbed the weapon they'd been working on before Danny arrived. "I'll get you out of there as soon as I capture this ghost!"

"Jack! We haven't fixed the—"

"BONSAI!" Jack pulled the trigger. Ectoplasmic goop shot into his face.

"—trigger…"

Danny wasn't sure whether to be embarrassed by his father (again), or be grateful he messed up an attack (again). He just chuckled weakly, and rubbed the back of his neck.

POP!

-----------------------------

POP!

As soon as the green mist cleared, Danny looked around his new surroundings. What he saw made him grimace, and not just because the green and gold color scheme was an eyesore.

"Ah, Daniel. I was wondering when you'd 'pop' in."

Vlad stepped out of a darkened hallway, haunting smirk in place. Danny spun around and crossed his arms over his chest, lifting an eyebrow. "Do you always have to make a creepy entrance, or is this another fruitloop thing?"

Vlad huffed, looking offended. "It's dramatic, Daniel, not creepy."

"Where'd you learn it from, Villainy for Dummies? Seems like overcompensation if you ask me."

Vlad's eyes flashed red, before he schooled his expression into one of mocking regret. "I was going to offer you my expertise on teleporting, but if you're going to be immature, I have more important things to do." He turned around, walking back into the dark hallway.

Danny gasped, and quickly flew in front of the man. "Whoa, hold on!" He held up his hands in front of Vlad, forcing him to stop. "You can stop this? You can make me stop teleporting?" Vlad nodded, and Danny smiled happily. "Great! I—Wait." The smile fell from his face, and he eyed the man suspiciously. "What's in it for you?"

Vlad's lips twisted into a smirk. "No longer naïve enough to expect anything for free. I'm proud of you, little badger. My price is the usual."

"Renounce my dad and become your evil apprentice?" Danny crossed his arms again. "Forget it, Vlad."

Vlad shrugged his shoulders. "Then enjoy the rest of your life filled with uncertainty." He walked around Danny, raising a hand in farewell. "Ta."

Danny winced. He chewed on his bottom lip, thinking. He hated teleporting. If he ever got out of the rut he had fallen into, he swore the power would definitely be crossed off his list…He groaned, and flew after Vlad. "Vlad wait!"

Vlad halted, his expression triumphant. "Yes?"

Danny refused to meet his eyes. "I…The reward isn't worth the price, Vlad, but…will you teach me to control this power for…Mom's cell number?"

Vlad's eyes sparkled in interest. "You'll give me her phone number?"

It was difficult, but Danny managed to keep from grinning triumphantly. "She'll probably never forgive me, but yes. I mean, it's not like you'll get anywhere with it…"

Vlad smiled cockily. "I assure you, Daniel, I can be quite charming. I'll be your legal father in no time." Danny gagged, and Vlad rolled his eyes. "I suppose we have a deal?" Vlad held out his hand.

Danny stared at it, making a show of hesitating. "Alright…" He reached out and grabbed the other hybrids hand. "Deal."

POP!

-------------------------------

POP!

Danny blinked, and when his eyes opened, it wasn't Vlad's ugly décor that greeted his sight, but Amity's newspaper office. People occupied cubicles, writing down stories on computers and scribbling notes in their notebooks, but no sign of Vlad.

"No!" Danny screamed, frantically searching the office for his savior. He could have followed him in ghost form, right? The sound of typing and pencils scribbling on paper instantly ceased, but Danny didn't notice. "I was so close to ending this!" He ran a hand through his hair, pacing back and forth on the open air. "I finally outsmarted the creep, and I get whooshed off before I can even celebrate! Where's justice in that? Is this some great cosmic joke? Just—"

POP!

-----------------------------

POP!

"GHOST!"

"Jack! Get this net off me!"

"—how many people are laughing at me? The Observants—"

POP!

----------------------------

POP!

"Danny Phantom!"

"—are probably having a grand ol' time laughing at me, the jerks. No doubt Vlad finds this whole thing amusing—"

POP!

--------------------------

POP!

"Breach in Sector 11! Again!"

"—because he's a total bastard like that. Clockwork, Master of all Annoyingness, acted—"

POP!

--------------------------

POP!

"BEWARE!"

"—all sincere, but I bet he's laughing on the inside!"

POP!

--------------------------

POP!

"Mr. Phantom! A few questions—"

"And don't even get me started on my friends—"

POP!

--------------------------

POP!

"—probably laughing about it at this very moment! Some friends!"

"Danny?"

Danny spun around. His friends stared up at him, along with the whole Casper High cafeteria. He was floating over the lunch line, and even the lunch ladies were gaping openly at him. Slop slipped off one of their spoons.

Danny laughed. "Great. Just great. Of course I'd wind up here, again."

"Danny," Sam hissed, "go invisible!"

Considering the students were starting to rush in his direction, that was sound advice. Danny turned invisible. His fans slowed, groaning in disappointment, but Danny felt no sympathy. He placed a hand on Sam's shoulder, and whispered, "I'll meet you guys at our table." She nodded and whispered the message to Tucker.

Danny sat in his designated seat and placed his head in his hands, just taking time to relax and not think about anything. A few minutes later, Tucker and Sam sat at the table on either side of him.

"Danny?" Sam asked quietly. "Are you still here?"

Danny nodded his head, but realized they couldn't see it. He sighed. "Yes."

Tucker stuffed some mystery meat into his mouth. "So how's your day been?" he asked cheerfully.

Danny groaned.

"Aw, it can't be that bad." He grinned, and nudged what he hopped was Danny's shoulder and not his head. "Sam says you teleported into the girl's locker room while they were changing…"

Sam stabbed her salad, growling low in her throat. She muttered what Danny assumed were threats against mankind.

"They nearly killed me, Tuck."

"Yeah, but you would have died a happy man!"

Danny's lips twitched. "True…"

Sam slammed her spork down, her face flaming. "We are never speaking of it again, and you—" she pointed a threatening finger at Danny's seat "—are going to forget what you saw. Got it?"

"…I don't think I can, Sam…"

Sam growled, and Tucker laughed. Danny smiled, though they couldn't see it, and snuck a fry from Tucker's tray. Being invisible had its perks.

"The school is in an uproar, Danny," Sam said after a minute of silence. "…More than usual. Valerie is going crazy trying to find you, Paulina constantly fixes her makeup, and the teachers seem to be competing against each other…"

Tucker nodded. "There's even a bet going around about where you'll pop in next!"

Danny raised an unseen eyebrow. "Do I want to know who started the bet, Tuck…?"

Tucker coughed into his fist. "Depends on what you plan to do to him—or her! For all we know, the evil, clever, and no doubt charming mastermind might have been a girl."

Danny rolled his eyes, and stole another fry from the 'clever mastermind'. "Uh-huh."

"Have you learned any control yet?" Sam asked.

Danny grumbled. "No. I convinced Vlad to help me, though."

"How'd you manage that?" Sam asked.

He smirked slyly. "By offering my mom's cell phone number."

Tucker frowned. "But your mom doesn't—" His eyes cleared in understanding. He smiled at Danny. "Niiice, dude."

"So, you know how to stop now?" Sam asked.

Danny sighed. "No. Before he had a chance to tell me, I teleported away."

"Well," Tucker said, "that explains the rant. That must have been really frustrating."

"I wasn't ranting!" Danny protested. "I was…expressing my anger to the universe."

"In other words, ranting," Sam concluded.

"…Alright fine, I ranted."

"Maybe there's a pattern to it," Sam suggested. "You've been here for a while. What are you doing differently now?"

Danny shrugged. "Talking to you guys, focusing on not teleporting so I have a chance to relax."

"Maybe that's the answer then. You just have to concentrate on your surroundings and on staying in one place."

He grimaced. "I don't know, Sam. What about when I—"

POP!

Sam groaned, and leaned back in her chair. "Great. Here we go again."

Tucker chuckled. "Look on the bright side, Sam. At least the bet—that I had no part in making—is still on. I'm going to be rich!" He went to grab a fry, but the bucket was empty. He frowned down at his tray. "Where'd my fries go?"

#Danny Phantom #Sam Manson #Tucker Folely #apples keep the ghosts away #light-hearted fanfiction #old fic #writing trance

115 notes · View notes

qitwrites · 3 years

Text

traditions

Fandom: Jujutsu Kaisen

Pairing: Itadori Yuuji/Fushiguro Megumi

A/N: I caught up with the manga, and shit’s pretty fucked, so I decided to amend that with fluff.

[AO3 Link]

Fushiguro - according to Kugisaki - is the textbook definition of a homosexual disaster.

No see, here’s the thing- everything was going fine. Great. No problems at all. Fushiguro respects his seniors, tolerates Gojo, and has the biggest soft spot for Inumaki, but he’s never been attracted to any one in his usual circle. So, school and sorcery and life in general was simple. No distractions, no crushes as such, no complications. All good.

And then Itadori Yuuji barges into his life and upends the fuck out of it by eating a special grade cursed object to save him. Then he joins Jujutsu Tech, and now they work and train and study and live alongside one another.

The thing is, Itadori is cute as fuck. 10/10 would tap that, any day of any week.

It’s not that Fushiguro has a type or anything, but Itadori just ticks all his boxes. When Todo had bullheadedly asked him what kind of person he likes, he’d said anyone with a strong moral compass that doesn’t waver in their resolve.

That’s Itadori in a nutshell.

Also, doesn’t hurt that he’s like, stupidly hot either. His raw physical prowess is reflected on his body in the form of shapely muscles, hard abs, and wide forearms that look like they could pick Fushiguro up and just throw him like a javelin. They actually can- Itadori had to do it for a mission this one time. Fushiguro enjoyed it immensely, and he will take this information with him to his grave.

So, not only is Itadori attractive and strong and of good character, but he’s also hella friendly. Fushiguro knows he’s not the easiest person to befriend- it takes a while for him to warm up to people, to share things about himself, to talk about the shitshow that is his family, but Itadori does not seem to give a single, flying fuck. He walks into Fushiguro’s life with the strength and ease of someone that just believes they belong. And Fushiguro lets him, because he is, as Kugisaki very accurately put it, a complete and utter homosexual disaster.

But it’s fine. Crushes happen all the time, and Fushiguro knows it’s hopeless and that’s ok. He knows Itadori likes him and cherishes their friendship, and that is enough. It will be. He’ll move on, and they’ll laugh about it in a few years (if they survive) and it’ll be great. In the meantime, he’s going to hole up in his room and read non-fiction books and stay away from pink hair and large toothy smiles.

Of course, the first person to fuck up his plans is Itadori.

It’s Saturday night, and dinner had been a simple meal of rice, miso soup and some sides made by Itadori. He’s a really good cook, and the home food is such a welcome change from the bento boxes Fushiguro normally picks up from the convenience store. Sometimes, Itadori will drag Fushiguro into the kitchen to teach him a thing or two, and Fushiguro learns, and pines, and smacks Itadori when he says something especially idiotic. It’s routine. It’s nice.

Dinner was an hour ago, and now he’s just curled up in bed with his book. It’s shaping up to be a typical weekend, which is nice considering the number of missions they picked up last week. His bones are aching a little, his feet are slightly sore, and he knows he’s going to sleep like the dead tonight.

He hears the knock even though it’s a bit soft. Fushiguro sits up and cocks his head. Was he imagining it?

And then there’s another knock, more confident. Thud thud thud.

Fushiguro climbs out of bed, setting his book aside carefully. He stretches his hands over his head and walks over to the door. ‘Coming.’

He swings it open, and he sees pink hair and his heart just sort of beats out of his chest.

‘Hiya.’ Itadori’s smile is wide, trusting, and full of gusto. He holds a packet of chips in one hand and a laptop in the other.

‘What’s up?’

‘Are you busy?’

He should say he is. If he says he’s busy, then he doesn’t have to let Itadori in and he can continue with Operation: get over Itadori Yuuji. It’s the most logical move.

‘No, why do you ask?’ Well, apparently his brain has detached from his mouth.

‘Well, I overheard you telling Kugisaki that you’ve never seen the Saw movies and I realized something. Something terrible.’

Fushiguro tenses. ‘And what’s that?’

‘I can’t be best friends with someone that’s never seen Saw.’ Itadori pouts cutely, and Fushiguro is this close to just walking off the face of the Earth. He leans into the door frame, needing the additional support.

‘And I don’t want anyone else to be my best friend. So, the only solution is to make you watch Saw! With me! Like, right now.’

Fushiguro feels so much all at once- he wants to pull Itadori into a hug, he wants to jump off his balcony, he wants to slam the door shut and just cry, and he wants to watch stupid movies with this stupid man.

‘If you get crumbs on my bed, I’m going to kick you in the stomach.’

Itadori beams, and Fushiguro is a lost cause.

There’s a bit of adjusting (Fushiguro, your pillows are too hard, let me go grab mine) and a bit of remodelling (What do you mean we can’t make a blanket fort, that’s literally half the movie experience) and after relenting to a weird half-assed tent structure, the two of them huddle on the bed, backs against the wall, laptop placed on a chair by their feet with a bag of chips between them.

Saw is a terrible movie.

There’s gore and screaming and a creepy dude running around and it’s honestly just horrendous. The main character calls himself Jigsaw, and Fushiguro is tempted to flip the laptop after the hundredth blood spill. He looks over at Itadori who’s completely engrossed, eyes reflecting the colours and flashes of light on the screen. It’s cute, the concentration he’s pouring into it. His hand is stuck in the bag of chips and Fushiguro smacks it away to grab a few of his own.

Fushiguro does his best to watch and gets into it at least a little. It’s bad, but it’s not the worst way to spend a weekend night. He admits that a huge reason why the experience is kinda fun is that he’s doing something with Itadori that isn't life-threatening, which is a refreshing change.

The end credits start rolling and Itadori stretches his arms, fingers pushing through the droopy tent roof.

‘What did you think?’

‘I’ve seen worse.’

Itadori laughs. ‘I know what you mean. It grows on you though.’

‘There’s more?’

Itadori looks at him, blinks, cocks his head. ‘You didn’t know?’

Fushiguro shrugs. ‘I’ve never been a movie buff, so I have no information on this.’

‘Fushiguro.’

‘What?’

‘There’s 9 movies.’

Fushiguro’s mouth drops. ‘What?’

‘Yup, there’s nine in total, and the tenth one is in the making.’

‘Holy shit, that’s a lot of movies in one franchise.’

‘Yup. And we’re watching all of them.’

Fushiguro’s eyes widen. ‘What? No way. Nope. Not a chance. I can’t handle more of this, it was barely tolerable.’

‘It doesn’t matter! It’s the principle of the thing- you’ve started the series so you might as well see it through.’

‘9 movies? How can they possibly have enough content for that?’

‘It’s what they do. I promise it gets better and worse.’

Fushiguro sighs. ‘I’m not getting out of this, am I?’

Itadori pushes into his shoulder playfully. ‘Nope. I’m getting more snacks next time, let’s do two movies.’

Fushiguro sighs and runs a hand through his hair.

He’s really struggling to pretend like he’s upset with this development. He’s not upset. He’s honestly anything but.

---

Itadori comes back next Saturday with some blankets and a pillow tucked under one arm and a laptop in the other. He has a grocery bag with chips and sour patch kids hanging between his teeth and he still manages to smile. Fushiguro is so done.

‘Are you a dog?’ he grumbles, plucking the bag out of his face and setting it by the bed. Itadori gets to work immediately, setting up the pillows and his sad excuse for a blanket fort while Fushiguro brings a bowl for the chips and candy. Once they’ve settled in, Itadori starts the second movie and Fushiguro resigns himself to his fate.

It’s really not that bad.

The movie is whatever, Fushiguro tunes in and out, alternating between watching the screen and sneaking looks at Itadori. He’s as engrossed as ever, and the tip of his tongue is sticking out in concentration and it’s so cute it makes Fushiguro want to curl up in his lap and squish him.

He’s crushing hard. Like, really hard. It’s about the gayest thing he’s ever experienced.

The movie pushes on, and they start to get more comfortable. Itadori isn’t a talker, which is surprising and nice, but when the movie lulls, he does make a joke or two. They sink lower into the bed, and by the end of the movie, they’re firmly pressed into each other from shoulder to thigh, with the bowl of chips on Fushiguro’s lap and the candy in Itadori’s.

Itadori is really warm. Could be his natural body heat, could be the king of curses residing within him, could be Fushiguro’s imagination- who’s to say at this point?

When the credits roll, Itadori stretches again like a cat in the sun, groaning his satisfaction. Fushiguro rubs his temples and wills away his blush.

‘What did you think?’

‘Not terrible, but honestly, what the fuck?’

‘That pretty much sums up the franchise.’

Itadori loads up the next movie while Fushiguro stays in position, comfortable. When he’s done, he leans back and makes himself comfortable against Fushiguro’s side, head leaning against his shoulder, his cheek pressed against bone. He looks smooshed, and it’s ridiculous.

If he gave a single shit about the movie, he’d ask him to move because he’s so far gone now there’s no way he’d pay attention at all.

Fushiguro doesn’t say a word, just sends up a silent prayer that Itadori remains there, pushed into him and all up in his space, for the rest of the evening.

That’s exactly what he does.

---

Fushiguro’s feet are burning.

The soles are achy all over, tender and jolty. Any time he walks, he suppresses a hiss of pain. When he’d taken a look, the entire sole was an angry red, and he’s just so annoyed.

The week had been tough- tons of running around and multiple search and rescue missions and this one tenacious curse that he and Itadori had to chase for several miles before finally exorcising it. By the end of it all, his feet were burning like a low fire in the pits of hell.

Itadori is fine, as always. It’s probably an incredible combination of his own inherent athleticism and lord dipshit within him, but Itadori heals at an accelerated pace, and like, he came back from the dead. Sore feet would be nothing to this guy.

When Itadori knocks on the door as always, an hour after Saturday night dinner, Fushiguro just calls out, ‘Come in.’ He really doesn’t want to walk to the door, so he’d left it open intentionally.

Itadori struggles to open the door on his own, arms filled with so much stuff it’s overflowing everywhere, and that horribly lovely smile is still stretched across his face and Fushiguro is just so smitten it’s ridiculous.

Itadori throws a few pillows in his direction, places a frankly ridiculous amount of snacks at the foot of the bed, and starts building his fort. Fushiguro is yet to help him with this, to actually put in any effort and make it with him rather than just watch him with a bemused smirk, but part of him knows that if he joins in, he’s admitting to something. He’s admitting that he’s invested. That he likes this as much as Itadori, probably so much more. That he likes Itadori so much, it’s all-consuming.

Itadori gives him the laptop while he makes some finishing touches on the fort, and he’s gotten better over the last few weeks. The tent is less saggy, with more room to move around and its range is expanding. It no longer covers just the bed, it extends to his desk and is inching towards his closet. Itadori is taking over his room, his heart, his brain, his life. He keeps taking and taking and taking, and Fushiguro just gives him more, happily, heartbreakingly, with all the love and nonchalance and patience he can muster.

He’s so whipped he’s giving Kugisaki a headache. She’s told him as much, repeatedly.

He’s got the final Saw movie prepped and ready to go, positioning the laptop on the chair as usual. Itadori grabs the bowls and decants their snacks before sitting next to Fushiguro, his head automatically resting on the man’s shoulders. Fushiguro rests his head on Itadori’s soft pink hair, breathing in the scent of the shampoo Itadori always steals from Kugisaki, and muffles a laugh. It’s so silly.

They’re about mid-way through the movie (by movie 9 there’s no milking the plot, it’s them just beating a dead horse ruthlessly) when Fushiguro shifts his legs and his feet bump into the chair, and he bites out a yelp of pain. Itadori sits up immediately, eyebrows furrowed in concern.

‘You ok?’

Fushiguro waves him down, wincing. ‘Yes, yes, I’m fine, don’t worry about it.’

‘Did you stub your toe? That’s one of the worst feelings ever. And I’ve had my heart ripped out of my chest. And lost an arm. And I’ve been stabbed repeatedly. Amongst other things.’

‘I didn’t stub my toe. And also, what the fuck, are you ok?’

‘I’m fine,’ Itadori laughs easily. ‘Seriously, what’s wrong?’

‘My feet hurt,’ Fushiguro admits with a defeated sigh. ‘We’ve been moving about a lot, and after that pineapple fucker two days ago, my feet have just gotten really sore. I soaked them in hot water a few hours ago, I think I should be fine by Monday.’

Itadori eyes him suspiciously.

‘I’m not lying dumbass. I’ll be fine, don’t worry about it. Let’s just get this horrible movie over with.’

Itadori hums, turning back to the screen. A minute later, he looks over at Fushiguro.

‘Well, I’m going to apologize for this in advance.’

‘Apologize for wh- HEY!’

Itadori, with his stupidly inhumane strength, yanks Fushiguro’s legs off the edge of the bed and right into his lap. Fushiguro is now laying down with his head resting against the headboard, and he’s about to kick out when Itadori just digs his thumbs into the arch of his feet and Fushiguro narrowly stops himself from moaning obscenely.

He has died and ascended. His soul is no longer in this realm of existence. It has found peace. The meaning of life. Attained nirvana. He can see the light at the end of the tunnel.

It’s seriously that good.

Because Itadori is strong. He’s really strong, so his movements are sure and deep. His thumbs are pushing against the arch, into the heel of his foot, pushing into that junction where his toes meld into the sole, and it’s so damn good. Fushiguro squirms.

‘How are you- ah shit, right there -how are you so good at this?’

Itadori throws him an easy smile. ‘Used to massage grandpa’s feet all the time. Became an expert over time, especially because I had a lot of his nurses guiding me as well. Is it ok?’

Fushiguro tries to throw him a deadpan look but then Itadori’s thumbs just push into a particularly sore spot and Fushiguro’s eyes roll back into his skull. When he’s able to pull himself together, he looks at the pink-haired man, feeling breathless.

‘It feels great. If you tell a single soul, I will drop kick you.’

Itadori’s laugh is loud and boisterous, and it fills the room completely, saturates it with this feeling of ease and honesty.

‘This stays here, no worries. Like a Las Vegas thing.’

Fushiguro smiles at the stupid reference.

After a few minutes pass by, Fushiguro reluctantly starts pulling his feet away. ‘You’ve done more than enough,’ he starts to say. Itadori wraps his fingers around his ankles, holding him in place.

‘I can honestly do this for hours, it’s fine. You can see the screen, right?’ Fushiguro nods immediately. ‘So, let’s just keep watching. I’ll stop if I’m tired, ok?’

Fushiguro relents without a fight because it’s the most relief he’d gotten in ages, and Itadori is touching him and he’s weak in every possible way and he lets himself be. Just this once.

They finish the movie (thank goodness it’s over) and Itadori continues to massage his feet as they discuss what the 10th movie could possibly be like. They discuss theories and plot holes, and Itadori doesn’t let go, his hands inching up and massaging his calves as well, and fuck if Fushiguro’s going to stop him because it feels good. He’s gay and Itadori is hot and his fingers are actual magic- like, they put sorcery to shame.

When it’s well past midnight and Itadori yawns a few times, Fushiguro finally sits up, pulling his feet out of Itadori’s grasp. The pink-haired man lets his hands linger for as long as possible, and Fushiguro decides he’s just imagining it. Surely.

‘I kinda, I mean, I want to repay you for that. You massaged me for hours, you know.’

Itadori pretends to think for a second before breaking into a bright, 100-megawatt smile.

‘Well then, let’s watch more movies! Let’s just make this movie night! We can watch stuff you look up as well, we can watch anything.’

Fushiguro stares at him, stunned. He hadn’t been expecting that and truth be told, he was really sad the Saw franchise was over because he assumed that would be the end of this, and he was too shy to ask what Itadori was so easily asking him. To see Itadori so excited at the prospect of an actual movie night, with no end in sight, made his heart leap and throb and squeeze. It was incredible.

‘Deal.’ He keeps his voice level and his face neutral, but he can’t hide his eyes and Itadori reads him in a second and his smile softens. He knows him so well now, like the back of his hand.

Itadori bids him a soft goodnight, collecting his stuff and shuffling back to his room slowly. Fushiguro falls asleep quickly, and it's deep and dreamless.

He wakes up to painless feet. It’s a miracle in every single way.

---

When Itadori gently pulls his feet into his lap the next weekend, Fushiguro doesn’t bother protesting it. He just gives him a slightly exasperated sigh, a soft smile and hits play.

They’ve decided to pick up the How to train your dragon franchise this time, as a welcome change of pace.

‘What’s it about?’

‘Well, it’s honestly all in the title. It’s about dragons and Vikings and it’s funny and it has great music!’ Itadori lights up while talking about it, and his energy is so damn contagious. Fushiguro feels himself getting hyped. ‘I think you’ll like it. Especially since you have those cool Shikigamis, you might relate to this more!’

Fushiguro hums, and they watch. Fushiguro routinely pushes pieces of chips and sour candy into Itadori’s mouth, and Itadori’s fingers become well-acquainted with the planes and bumps and grooves of his feet, and the shape of his calves.

Fushiguro gets really into the movie.

Not only is the animation top-notch, but the voice actors are great, the storyline is gripping, and Toothless is so childish and sweet and endearing, his heart aches with love. He barely pays attention to Itadori this time. He seems just as invested, even if it’s the hundredth time he’s rewatching it.

To Fushiguro’s surprise, he chokes up at the end, after the big battle. The whole scene feels strangely familiar in some ways, and he tries desperately to hide his growing discomfort. He peaks over at Itadori and his eyes widen.

Itadori is swallowing hard, his eyes shining and glistening with unshed tears. His grip on Fushiguro is tight as hell, but not painful. He’s barely holding on, it seems.

So Fushiguro looks away, and lets himself feel. He doesn’t cry, but it’s damn near the same feeling.

Itadori’s knowing smirk is as annoying as it is stupidly kissable.

‘You seemed to enjoy that!’

‘It was decent. Much better than all the Saw movies combined.’

Itadori barks out a laugh. ‘Decent, he says. I saw you nearly crying through my own tears. And you were glued to the screen. Such a liar.’

Fushiguro relents. ‘Fine, it was really good. I’m hooked, and I cant wait to see the other 2 movies.’

‘You know I’ll be here.’

Fushiguro is helpless against his blush. He barely hides it in the crook of his elbow. Itadori’s fingers are still pressing into his feet and it’s all so much but not enough. His heart still aches.

‘And the next two movies are visual masterpieces. Can’t wait to get into it all!’

Fushiguro nods, and with the promise of next week, he sleeps just a little easier.

---

When Itadori pulls his feet into his lap three weeks in a row, Fushiguro decides it’s time he does more to repay the pink-haired man. It’s definitely not enough to just grace Itadori with his presence and with a weekly movie night.

So, when they come together to watch the third and final How to train your dragon movie, Fushiguro stands in his room, chewing his lower lip anxiously. He feels like he may have gone overboard, and he’s more scared of being found out by Itadori, about his feelings and his hopelessly ginormous crush and just how big of a complete and utter disaster he is than anything else.

Before he can take it down though, Itadori walks in after a quick knock and a shout of Pardon the intrusion but not reaaallllyyyy.

He walks in, snack bag in his mouth, arms holding way too much stuff, and gives Fushiguro a grin before turning to the bed to start his usual set-up routine. That’s when he stops dead on his feet, and Fushiguro at least enjoys the look of complete and utter shock on his face. The snack bag drops to the ground before Fushiguro can catch it with a loud thunk.

So, here’s a fun fact about Fushiguro- he can build insane blanket forts. No, really, you don’t understand, he could be mistaken for an architect because that’s how good he is. And the reason is a bit long and a bit complicated, but it mostly has to do with his sister. When they were left all alone in the world, sharing a small space just between the two of them, they would build blanket forts with all the stuff lying around the house, and within those sheets, they were shielded from the world and all its horrors. They did it for a long time, and it was their tradition. They got better at it over the years, learning what sheets worked best, what make-shift supports held things up at the right height, where to place the pillows.

The minute Fushiguro started to put the fort together, his muscle memory kicked in and took it from there. It brought forth some memories that made him choke up, but he focused on Itadori, and it helped. He adjusted the height to accommodate two growing boys instead of two tiny humans, and before he knew it, the fort had sprawled to encompass his entire room. He borrowed pillows from Inumaki and Panda, who were willing albeit slightly perplexed, and he grabbed Kugisaki’s fairy lights to really spruce things up. The weather had gotten colder, so he had also laid out his thick duvet for them to slip under, and the icing on the cake was the pizza he had ordered. Itadori always bought the snacks, so he wanted to pull his own weight. Also, they were active jujutsu sorcerers- they may have eaten dinner an hour ago, but they were always hungry. It was endless.

Itadori remains rooted in place, and Fushiguro starts to get nervous. A bit anxious. A bit scared. What if it is too much? Had he overstepped in some way? Or what if Itadori looked forward to building the fort and Fushiguro had taken that away from him?

Itadori slowly looks at him, eyes piercing and unreadable and bright.

And then he smiles. The world rights itself a little.

And he smiles big, huge, all-encompassing. Its lips stretched over white teeth and his eyes are crinkling in that really lovely way and the dimples are dotting his cheeks and its utter magic.

‘Fushi,’ Itadori gushes, almost breathless. ‘This is insane. How the hell did you do this?’

Fushiguro bites his lip. ‘You like it?’

‘Like? Fushi, dude, my man, my guy, like doesn’t begin to cover it! I don’t have better words cause I’m kind of an idiot, but it’s. Like. A+. 11/10. I’m so impressed right now.’

And now Fushiguro is smiling with him, stomach flopping around endlessly, and he’s young and in love and he doesn’t want to be anywhere else.

‘I also got pizza,’ Fushiguro gestures to the table behind him, picking the snack bag off the floor and placing it by the bed. ‘I wasn’t sure what you liked so I just got the same thing you ordered when I was sick.’

Itadori happily bounds over to the box and leans in for a sniff.

‘I love this stuff, it’s yum. And it’s still steaming, all fresh and hot.’ Itadori gives him a big thumbs-up. ‘This is so bomb Fushi, thank you so much!’

Fushiguro almost says No thank you, you’ve been doing so much for our movie nights and I wanted to show you how grateful I am for you and for all of this and I love you so please take my heart and just keep it, I really don’t need it, you know?

What he says instead is, ‘Not a problem. Shall we set up?’

And so, 10 minutes later finds them curled up in their usual spots, except this time they’re under the covers. Fushiguro places all the food between them, and Itadori alternates between massaging his feet (which he cleans meticulously before their movie nights because he doesn’t want Itadori to eat with dirty feet hands) and taking bites of pizza and smiling and laughing and choking up at the movie.

The trilogy ends and Fushiguro can honestly see why Itadori has watched this countless times. It’s just that good.

If Itadori hears him sniffle, he doesn’t say a word. Just squeezes his calf and runs his fingers from his knees to his ankles and Fushiguro realizes, in that moment, that a part of him will always belong to this man.

---

They don’t miss a single movie night for months. They’ve now finished the Saw franchise, the HTTYD trilogy, the Batman trilogy, and the entire Annabelle series. If Fushiguro didn’t hate dolls before, well, now the thought of them sends shivers up his spine. And he fights curses. For a living.

Life is weird.

They don’t miss a single movie night for months. Sometimes it’s Sunday night instead, or Friday. Sometimes it’s earlier in the day, in the afternoon maybe. Sometimes, it’s really late at night, so late that by the time they’re done, it’s already 3am and the world is silent. The world doesn’t exist beyond the walls of Fushiguro’s room, and he’s ok with that.

On those nights, Itadori stays over.

They curl up on his bed together, not quite touching but not quite not touching. It’s a single bed and they’re not small by any means. The touching is inevitable. Fushiguro wonders if any part of it is voluntary.

He learns that Itadori’s toes are always warm, unlike Fushiguro’s. He’s a surprisingly calm sleeper. His sleep-heavy voice is deep, and his sleep-heavy smile is soft.

They fall asleep facing away from one another, they wake up spooning or being spooned. They don’t say a word. And they don’t stop.

The night that they finish the latest Annabelle movie, Itadori looks insanely freaked out and Fushiguro doesn’t blame him. That shit’s creepy as hell.

The problem is that it’s only 00:14. Too early for them to call for a sleepover unprompted.

Itadori’s got Fushiguro’s legs in his lap, and he’s pursing his lips as if deep in thought. Fushiguro thinks fuck it.

‘Do you want to stay over?’

The relief flows off Itadori in waves. ‘You’re an actual lifesaver, you know that right?’

Fushiguro smirks, and they throw snarky comments back and forth between them as they get ready for bed. Itadori brings his toothbrush and they clean up side by side, fighting for the mirror. They take the fort down methodically, like a well-oiled machine, and they curl up under the duvet, touching but not quite touching, facing away from one another.

15 minutes later, Fushiguro feels Itadori curled around him, legs tangled and arm carefully slipped over his middle. He feels him shake, and he can taste the hesitation and he knows Itadori will move away soon because they both know they’re both awake.

He moves his hand lower and places it over Itadori’s. He squeezes it once, and moves it away, and evens out his breathing. He feels himself drifting off, and the last thing he feels is Itadori’s arm curling around him just a little tighter, holding him just a little closer. The air tastes less hesitant, more hopeful.

It’s wonderfully frightening.

---

They don’t miss a single movie night for months. Until one day, they do.

The thing about Sukuna is that he’s the King of Curses, Lord Asshat extraordinaire, and an overall terrible being. Not only does he reside in Itadori rent-free, he also chooses when to heal him and when to watch from the sidelines as blood gushes out of wounds that are near-fatal. Itadori’s pain tolerance is impossibly high, but that doesn’t mean he can’t feel pain.

Itadori feels everything. He feels so much, so willingly, so wholeheartedly. He’s a feeler.

And so, when one of their missions go haywire (as always), Itadori risks his life for his classmates (as always), and is left on the verge of death (as always). The only difference being he doesn’t improve. At least not at that inhumane pace that he always does.

He’s not dead, but he’s not in the world of the living either. He’s drifting somewhere in between, and Fushiguro feels like he’s drowning. He can’t get enough air; he can’t see beyond the murky waters that are darker than ink.

Fushiguro is in the in-house hospital on campus and he rarely, if ever, leaves Itadori’s side. The incident took place on a Tuesday and it is now Saturday. Itadori’s vitals are stable, his heart is in his chest, beating, and his blood is circulating and oxygenating him.

He does not wake up, he does not speak, and he does not smile.

Something in Fushiguro’s chest cracks.

People come by to visit all the time. Nobara brings snacks and chats with Itadori like he’s ok, like he’ll respond. Only Fushiguro hears the tremor in her voice. Maki holds back from smacking someone in a coma, vowing to get him good when he’s awake for doing something so monumentally dumb. Gojo flits in and out as often as he can, and he always squeezes Fushiguro’s shoulder with a tightness that eases his chest just a little before leaving again.

After dinner on Saturday, Fushiguro decides to do something.

He lets himself into Itadori’s room- messy but not sloppy, and simple. He finds his laptop on his desk and charges it for a bit before taking it back with him. He doesn’t set up a blanket fort, simple loads up a Christopher Nolan movie that they’d decided on last week and lets it play.

He holds Itadori’s hand the entire time. It doesn’t squeeze back.

The crack in his chest widens.

---

He’s not there when Itadori wakes up.

Gojo had pushed him out of the room to go take a shower and grab a proper meal and maybe even take a nap, and Fushiguro had relented to two of the three- showering and eating. With a belly full of terrible convenience store food that could never hope to hold a candle to Itadori’s meals, Fushiguro slowly makes his way back to the infirmary when he hears voices. One voice, in particular, stops him in his tracks.

‘How are you feeling?’

‘My mouth tastes like ass.’

It’s one of the first things Itadori has said in a week and a half, and something between a laugh and a sob gets stuck in Fushiguro’s chest. He moves to yank the door open and throw himself at Itadori when he hears-

‘Where’s Fushi?’

‘Oh, he went to take a shower, clean up a little, all that.’

‘Ah. I see.’

Fuck, he sounds disappointed.

‘Don’t look so upset.’ Gojo teases. ‘He hasn’t left your side since you got hurt, you know?’

‘Really?’

Gojo hums. ‘He’s here all day. He tried working for a day or two, but his head wasn’t in it, so we forced him to sit out for a bit. He’s just been keeping you company here, reading, fretting, pining.’

Fushiguro wants to punch Gojo.

Itadori barks out a laugh. It sounds loud and forced and not very happy.

‘Don’t tease me about that sensei. That’s cruel, even for you.’

‘What are you talking about?’

‘You know what I’m talking about.’

‘I want to be sure. I’m not a mind-reader you know. So tell me,’ Gojo urges, ‘what are you talking about?’

Itadori sighs. It sounds exhausted more than pained. ‘I’ve liked him since the day we fought the curse and saved my senpais. It’s cruel for you to tease me about a one-sided crush.’

Fushiguro is suddenly numb, hot and cold everywhere, and his head is spinning, an echo of ‘I’ve liked him I’ve liked him’ just bouncing around his brain endlessly. He has to force himself to concentrate or risk missing out more of the conversation.

‘I mean, why do you think it’s one-sided?’

‘Are you kidding me? He’s so out of my league, I can’t even think about it. He’s so. Just. Everything good in this world. And he likes dogs sensei, what more could I want in a person?’

Fushiguro’s vision is just swimming and he wants to smother Itadori in a hug and protect him forever. His feet are taking longer to respond to his brain though.

‘I don’t think that’s true,’ Gojo sings, laughing. ‘My advice would be to not give up. You’d be good for each other, you know? Also, he’s really not all that perfect. Trust me, I’ve known him since he was a child. This one time, during the spring festival, he-‘

‘Itadori, you’re awake?’

Evidently, his self-preservation instincts had bypassed his brain and forced his legs to move at near inhumane speed. God bless instincts.

Itadori is sitting up, and he looks a bit frail but the color in his cheeks is steadily returning. His eyes widen in surprise before his mouth twists up in a grin so wide Fushiguro is worried he’ll break his face. His eyes are molten, watery, and brighter than the sun.

‘Hi Fushi.’

For once, Fushiguro doesn’t give a two shit flying fuck that Gojo is in the room and will hence tease him for the rest of his life, he just walks over to the bed and gathers Itadori into a hug and holds him there, pressing his warmth into Itadori. There’s the beating of his heart, the rise and fall of his chest, and the smile on his lips pressed into Fushiguro’s shoulder.

The world rights itself on its axis, just a little more.

‘Idiot.’

Itadori’s muffled laugh makes him grin, and he pulls away. He rearranges his face in a scowl.

‘I told you before if you die on me-‘

‘-you’ll kill me yourself. I know, I know. I’m here Fushi, you don’t have to become a murderer. It’s a good day.’

Fushiguro lets his face morph back into a grin before looking over at Gojo. His teacher’s smirk tells him everything- how he knew where Fushiguro was, how he’s seen right through Fushiguro, how he’s going to tease him till the day either of them die. And Fushiguro wants to be annoyed and pissed off but he can’t bring himself to care, not right now.

Itadori’s heart is beating in his chest, and he smiles at Fushiguro, and his cheeks are tinting pink.

Fushiguro’s heart is full.

---

‘Sorry I missed movie night.’

Itadori’s apology is so stupid Fushiguro nearly gwaffs, but that’s undignified as fuck so he settles for a cough and a withering stare.

‘I mean, it’s not like you were in a coma or anything.’

‘You know what I mean! But anyway, I’m here now, so let’s pick up where we left off.’

‘No, we’ll have to move on to the next movie. We watched that one last week.’

‘Huh?’

Fushiguro looks at him, prays he isn’t seven shades of red. ‘Well, I thought maybe if we had a movie night at the infirmary, you’d feel better. Where you were. Especially if you were dealing with lord fuckwad. You know?’

Itadori stares at him in awe and chuckles softly. ‘You’re something else, you know? Just when I think I’ve got you all figured out.’

Gojo’s word reverberate around his skull and Fushiguro just clears his throat. ‘Yeah, well, I’m all about surprising people. Woohoo.’

Itadori bursts out laughing, and they go back to setting up the fort, the pizza, the snacks, the lights, the laptop. It’s easy and familiar and nice. They settle into the mattress, but Fushiguro doesn’t let Itadori take his feet this time, opting to press into his side instead. Itadori barely puts up a fight.

They’re roughly 8 minutes into Interstellar when Itadori asks, ‘How did you set up the movie in the infirmary?’

Fushiguro hums, ‘I grabbed your laptop and put it on a chair to your left. I sat on the right. I sat by your bed and I…’

‘And you?’

Fushiguro should be nervous but he’s not. He’s surprised by how not nervous he is.

‘And I did this.’ He laces their hands together, eyes trained on Itadori's.

It’s like looking at a bowl of liquid amber. His eyes are light brown, bordering on gold, and they’re mesmerizing when you’re this close. He doesn’t look away from Fushiguro, his breath doesn’t stutter, he doesn’t jerk away. He squeezes Fushiguro’s hand with his right one and slowly brings up the left. He rests it on Fushiguro’s jaw, soft skin meeting calloused fingers and there’s a heat building under Fushiguro’s skin that makes him feel that same hot and cold sensation everywhere.

‘I’m going to kiss you.’

Itadori’s voice is deeper than Fushiguro’s ever heard it, low and spicy and sure. His hands are gentle and confident.

Fushiguro doesn’t nod or say Yes or blush.

He just brings his right arm up, wraps it around Itadori’s left wrist and leans in, bringing them together in what is possibly the softest touch of lips ever, in the history of the universe.

It’s not hesitant, it’s just new. And all-encompassing. And maddeningly good. And soft.

Itadori’s breath hitches and he leans his head, slotting their lips together better and Fushiguro is humming because fucking hell is this good. There’s no tongue, just pressure and nips and small licks and bites. By the end of it, Fushiguro is smiling into Itadori’s smile, and he’s kissing it and nuzzling it and he’s drowning in the best way possible.

Itadori finally pulls away, after several small kisses, and does that beaming smile that makes Fushiguro’s stomach do really terrible things.

‘I can’t believe all this happened because of Saw.’

Fushiguro’s smile shrivels away in a heartbeat and Itadori is laughing and snorting, the bastard.

‘Itadori Yuji.’

More laughter.

‘I swear on all that is good and pure, if you tell people we got together because of Saw, I will dump your ass so hard you won't be able to sit down for weeks.’

Itadori laughs some more and presses his giggles against Fushiguro’s lips and dammit he’s so weak and gay.

Itadori’s hand slips down his jaw and cups the back of his neck and he pulls him close, pressing their foreheads together.

‘We both know that’s not true.’

Damn it. He really does know Fushiguro like the back of his hand.

And so he does the only thing he can think of- he kisses him again. And again. And then some more, just because he can.

The movie remains forgotten, and frankly, they couldn’t care less.

#jujutsu kaisen #itadori yuuji #fushiguro megumi #itafushi #itadori x fushiguro #jjk fic #fluff #so much fluff #and movie nights #pining #this is just fushiguro pining #itadori is a good friend #the goodest #jjk #hi hello i hope you all like this #and i hope everyone's doing ok and staying safe!!#much love to you all

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slashssunglasses · 4 years

Text

“Its My Turn Now” ~ Slash

SLASH X FEM~READER

KW: daddy kink, bondage, roughness

Slash- Velvet Revolver Era Slash

——— UNEDITED —— —

it was yet another Velvet Revolver tour and this one was very exciting for slash since he could finally take you with him. Oh your days were full of laughter, adventure and pure raw animal sex. he couldn't get enough of you, all this time he'd had to go on the road without you, no physical contact for months at a time… it made this tour one to remember.

it was the night of the show and you stood in the front row of the rowdy crowd watching slash run around and holler into the microphone. Even though he was lost in the music he still made sure to watch you from the stage, making sure you were ok. Slash always insisted that you stand backstage watching the show from your safe little area but you did like it. You enjoyed being in the crowd jumping and raging along to the music while you watched him sweat and just completely lose himself in his music,

This time though, there had been a guy who was rubbing up on you all night. At first it looked like it was just due to the overcrowding of people in the pit, but once he started trying to talk to you and flirt you knew those horny rubs were nothing but accidental.

“Dude I'm not interested” you pushed away from him, “c’mon sweetheart, you cant come around here dressed like that and not expect to get my attention” he'd less over trying to get closer to your neck.

“Hey back off!” you squealed, soon your attention was taken away from your fiancé’s performance and redirected to keeping this guy off of you. he continued his lewd comments before reaching his hand up and groping your chest.

you pushed him hard and just then the guitar stopped and the music got all fucked up.

“Hey! Hey! what the fuck?!” you heard Slash yell into the microphone before throwing himself into the crowd on top of the guy. security was quick to grab him and push him back on stage as the fans started to riot and try and grab at him. “Hey get him the fuck out of here!” he yelled into the microphone once he got back on stage, “hes making on my girl! fucking pig! im gonna get your fucking ass get the fuck out of my show!” he yelled angrily as security grabbed the guy hauling him out.

“you okay baby?” he asked in the microphone before kneeling down and grabbing your arm helping you up onto the stage and walking you off.

“you okay?” he nervously grabbed your face scanning your expression. “yes yes im fine” you sighed giggling quietly, “I'm gonna kick his ass” he angrily chewed his lip, “baby just relax” you sighed grabbing his face. you could hear the crowd getting impatient and rowdy, “Slash you gotta get back out there” you smiled looking out onto the stage.

“i promise you i’ll make it up to you” he smirked, “make it up to me? you didn’t do anything” you giggled, “just be quiet and let me show you how much i love you tonight” he rolled his eyes, “mm fine fine, i also have a surprise for you but only if you get out there” you giggled popping a kiss on his lips, “mm more” he whined pulling you back in

“slash! C’mon man let’s go!” Duff yelled at him as slash pulled you deeper into his lips. He groaned, kissing your lips one more time before walking back on stage. The crowd roared in cheers as the show started up again. “Sorry guys lets fucking tear it up!” he chuckled into the mic earning cheers and hollers from the crowd. “Hang on hang on! Let me say something really quick before we start up again..” Slash said into the mic, fixing the height so it fit him better, “if you see that fucker that was on my girl..save him for me, okay?”

you shook your head smiling from offstage. he kept looking over with a little smirk as he watched you sway around to the music. his eyes dancing across your body as you did little sensual things you knew would only catch his eye. you blew him little kisses and he had a cocky smirk while he riled up the crowd even more. once the show was over you knew you were in for a fun and romantically rough night. you wanted to take control tonight but you didn’t know how long it’s last. you had the outfit, the toys, and the restraints but slash had a reputation for ripping through the flimsy cheap sex store ties and cuffs but you were still gonna have your fun.

you smirked to yourself as he ran off stage adrenaline still pumping as his sweaty body engulfed you tightly “ew ew ew” you giggled against his wet body. “mmm i want to get you back to the room bunny” hed giggle biting your ear, “mmmm no no no, you’re gonna shower while i get ready for you...” you giggled swaying back and forth with him,

“mm you won’t join me?” he pouted, “no no no, i have very fun and special things planned for us tonight...daddy” you whispered, he tensed up under you, “you have to be patient and calm though...or you get nothing and i mean it” you added kissing his sweaty jaw, you knew it was killing him the whole ride home. little did he know you had binds, toys, lingerie waiting for you guys back in the room to play with.

Once back at the hotel, you had to pry slash from your body and into the bathroom, threatening him if he doesn't get into the shower.

After some heated kisses and playful shoves, he finally got into the bathroom and started his shower. With him distracted with getting clean, you set your plan into motion. You quickly pulled off your clothes, throwing the now dirty clothes in a hamper at the door.

You examined your body in the mirror, hands running over each inch of skin as you wondered what he would think, but right now you were under a time crunch. You quickly got out the toys and binds, laying them out neatly on the bed as you listened to him move around the bathroom. He shouldn't be long now. You scrambled around the room, lighting candles for some nice finishing touches, and laid on the bed in a sexy pose. Steam rolled out in clouds as the bathroom door swung open. Light poured over your body as slashs silhouette came into view. “Mmm~ what's all this bunny?”

"its fun for us" you smirked turning to get on your knees and crawl towards him. his hands traced every different shaped and colored vibrator on laid out on the bed, cock ring, handcuffs, and a few other fun toys.

"you see tonights gonna be a little different" you began in a sultry voice, "I know Its always you in charge but…tonight I want some fun" you smiled sitting up and rubbing your hands all over his bare chest, "so take these off" you pulled on the waistband of his sweatpants, "and let me come play with you daddy"

Slash bit his lip, smirking down at you as you played with the hem of his pants. “Oh~ so bunny wants to be in charge tonight hm? Well..we’ll see about that..” You pouted, glaring up at him as he pulled you onto his chest, “hey! No! No touching!” You grabbed his wrists,

his hands quickly grabbing handfuls of your ass before you yanked them away. You shoved him toward the bed, tying his wrists together as you sat on his chest. “Look so sexy like this bunny..thinking you can dominate daddy..” He purred, his eyes flaming with lust as you glared at him. “I'm not the one with their wrists tied..” Slash only darkly chuckled at your jab, “ohh~ I won't be for long bunny..just you wait and see..”

"Daddy" you whined smacking his chest, "ive been such a good girl…let me have this treat?" you crossed your arms, "oh bunny" he pouted bucking his hips up to push your pussy farther up his chest, "fine" he rolled his eyes, your eyes lit up as you jumped off of him going towards the toys you wanted to use.

"decisions decisions" you giggled, he looked at you with a proud and cocky smirk. "I know" you smiled and crawled back onto the bed. you rubbed your hands over top his sweatpants traveling up his legs, you saw the bus;ge growing and gently grazed it. you lowered your head and licked a hot stripe up his clothed bulge. he grunted harshly pulling on the restraints, you made sure to layer them so it'd be harder for him to break through.

you grabbed the vibrator and switched it on sliding it over his bulge and then around your nipples pulling the bra down flashing your tits. he was drooling and you decided it was time to give him a little snack, you giggled scooting up to his lips, "you want some?" you purred pulling your panties to the side, "you want to taste my cunt daddy? ohh~ its so wet" you moaned lowering yourself over his nose, his mouth opened welcoming you but you didn't sit just yet, "come taste what that other guy couldn't have" you smirked lowering yourself completely onto his lips watching his eyes roll back as your slick hit his tongue

He leaned his head up, tongue slipping in between your lips like a hungry dog. You melted into him, slow relaxing down onto his mouth, hips lightly swiveling to match his lips. You groped your tits, moaning at the pleasure sparking in your brain. Slash grumbled and groaned, the sounds vibrating against your clit deliciously.

“Oh!- oh daddy~” You purred, back arching and head tipping back. Slash pulled at the restraints, skin peeling around the ties as he ached to feel your skin under his palms. You ground down against his mouth, tongue filling your hole as you whined. “Ah ah ah! Daddy!” His hips bucked up at the sound of your pleads, frustration filling his system as he pulled at the restraints. “Daddy's going to eat you dry bunny..be a good girl and let him out of these ties..” He glared up at you, tongue licking at his lips, “come on bunny...don't you want to make daddy proud?”

"mm, not yet" you panted scooting down back onto his chest, you leaned down kissing your slick off his lips, "you'll get your turn" you smiled kicking your feet up and sliding the thing off your body flashing him your bare pussy as you layed back on his torso. "mm such a yummy cock" you moaned rubbing his hard through his pants, "your evil" he growled and you rolled your eyes leaning over for the vibrator, you switched it on setting it down on his abs,

"fuck" you grunted as you set your clit down onto of the vibrator. your lips began rubbing against his torso as you began humping. "oh daddy! ah! oh yes daddy you feel so good on my weeping cunt" you moaned maintaining eye contact with him, "oh I cant wait to see that cock ring on this big daddy cock, I want you to use everything on me daddy" you whined picking up the pace, "oh daddy im gonna cum! im gonna cum!!" you yelled gripping you

You squealed, head falling back as your orgasm washed over you. You shooke and arched, wet buzzing filling both of your and slash ears. His hips bucked up, harsh growls leaving his lips, “bunny..let daddy out..now. I'm not fucking kidding..” You lazily smiled, squinting at him as you got down on your stomach, face to face with his abs, “i don't know what you mean daddy..” You’d whimper, smiling up at him as you licked up your cum off his abs. “Ohh bunny you’re in deep fucking shit.” You cheek rested against his hip bone, “am I?” You’d tease, kissing his skin as your hand palmed his bulge.

"oh my… its so big" you gasped kissing his hard bulge through his pants. "mm I told you ti take these off daddy" you purred biting his bulging v-line, veins protruding down the toned muscle almost guiding you to his cock.

you leaned over grabbing the cock ring and holding git in your mouth. pulling down the pants you gasped excitedly giggling at his swollen hard cock, "mmm" you licked your lips drooling over his cock. you let drool drip and leak down his cock slipping down with precum

you moaned, pumping his cock lewdly as he sighed.

He stared down at you with hooded eyes, “bunny..” You grinned at him, taking his cock in you mouth, the cock ring slipping down his shaft as you did so. “Oh!- fuck-!” He pulled at the ties, teeth grit and bared as he choked. “Bunny-“ Once the ring was in place, you sucked his cock lewdly, the tip popping out of your mouth as you let go. You pumped him, licking your lips as you stared at him, “there you go daddy...a pretty ring on your cock..” His head rocked back, face turning red out of frustration as the need to cum filled him, but he knew, that he wasn’t allowed to.

“Okay bunny...you’ve had your fun..now take the fucking ring off me right now..before I get mean.” You bit your lip, humming to yourself, “mm..I don’t know..I think it’s a nice touch daddy..”

you licked a long stripe up his swollen red cock. “you’re such a good daddy, behaving for me and holding back all that thick juicy cum mmm” you moaned rubbing your clit while you gently stroked his cock. “bunny-ah fuck” he choked throwing his head back, “yes daddy?” you cooed squeezing his balls, “fuck!” he growled pulling in the restraints harder, “oh these are good ones, you haven’t broken them yet” you giggled leaning over and grabbing another vibrator.

you vibed along his shaft and circled his tip licking your lips as he tried to choke back his moans. “moan for me daddy, oh when you moan it’s so sexy” you whined sucking on one of his balls, “b-bun-oh fuck! oh my god bunny fuck right there!” he moaned loudly as you slowly slipped him inside your pussy. “ohhh!!” you whined, “oh fuck daddy! oh my gosh break free baby come fill me with your cum make me your pretty mommy” you whined loudly as you rode his cock, lewd and throaty moans escaping his lips as he tried to watch you move sensually on his cock but fuck it was too good he couldn’t hold it back anymore he was crazy, screaming practically at your dirty words

You lost yourself on his cock, little hands gripping his chest as you bounced yourself.

“Daddy..daddy more please..” You whined, needing more of him by the minute. “More huh? You want more?” he growled, foaming at the mouth as you nodded. “Please daddy..” His choked gasps slowly died down, a dark smile curving on his face as he glared at you.

“Please? Please? Oh, my bunny is begging now huh? I thought you were the one in charge bunny?” He mocked, head tilting slightly as he questioned you. You stumbled and stammered, “i know but-” “but what bunny? You need your big daddy to take care of you?” You trembled, tears welling up in your eyes as you grew tired of bouncing on him, “yes..i need you daddy..” His eyes darkened completely, “good girl.” He laughed, easily snapping out of the restraints and flipped you over.

you gasped as he hooked your legs around his hips. “you were staying tied for me?” you have him puppy eyes, “anything for you bunny” he smiled softening his piercing gaze slightly, “you did so good bun, so sexy” he growled against your lips while he teased his ringed cock around your hole, “hehe, thank you daddy” you giggled stretching underneath him, rubbing his bicep gently scratching down the divots in his biceps,“now show me who i belong to daddy” you pouted puckering your lips for him, “make me a pretty mommy” you batted your lashes after he placed a rough kiss on you. “you’re gonna squirt on this cock bunny, you’re gonna make a mess for me”

He gripped your hips tight, cock pounding into your g spot as you screamed, “daddy! Oh-oh!” You grabbed at him, pulling at his skin as he grinned at you, “is it too much bunny? This is what you wanted..” He teased, loving the way you looked all sweaty and used. “No more excuses bunny..no more holding back..daddy’s going to take hi sweet bunny until she passes out.”

you screamed losing your voice midway, exhaustion hitting you from how badly you wanted him deeper you couldn’t even fathom it. he held a vibrator against your clit as he yelled profanities from you tightening around his cock. “who’s daddy’s cum dump hm?” he groaned trying to keep himself at a steady pace in you, “m-me -ahhhh!! fuck me!!! i’m you l-little cum dump? in your cockslut daddy use me!!” you arched screaming as your eyes rolled back drool falling down your lips, “s-so good” you whimpered holding his face begging for some mercy

“use you, hm? That's what you want? You want daddy to take it all out on you, bunny?” You nodded franticly, words barely even forming in your brain at this point. “Mmm~ okay bunny.. let's see how long you last..” His thrusts stopped suddenly, light whines leaving you at the loss. “Shhh..don't worry... Daddy is far from done with you..” He snickered, his grip on your hips tightening. Suddenly, he slammed into you hard, tip hitting your g spot head-on.

You screamed bloody murder, clawing at his back. “Oh, that's the spot huh?” He growled, making sure each and every thrust it that special spit inside you.

“oh! oh! da-da-daddy!! AHHHH!!!” you screamed bloody murder, “i can’t take it! i cant take it!” you sobbed ultimate euphoria over taking you. his hand flew to your mouth shutting you up while he drilled into you. tears pooled around his hand as you sobbed and screamed into his hand. “bunny they’re gonna think i’m-fuck! they’re-ohh~~ they’re gonna think i’m hurting you!” his thrusts became sloppy as the cock ring felt tighter around his base

“daddy- daddy! Ohh-! Daddy!!” You squealed, licking his hand as he held it over your mouth. “Bunny-! Fucking god!-“ His cock swelled around the ring, his head filling with pleasure as he felt himself slowly lose it. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck- Fuck!- FUCK!-“ He growled, panting as the ring gave and cum spilled inside you, triggering your orgasm. You squealed and screamed, thrashing around as pleasure filled your head. You cried and screamed against his hand, grabbing at him as you came down.

you were hyperventilating and sobbing against his hand as his head dipped down into your neck. his chest rising and falling rapidly as he kissed your damp skin. you couldn’t help the wave of emotions your several intense orgasms brought you, you broke down in a fit of sobs still not being able to breathe, after shocks from your orgasms shot through you as you looked down at all the squirt that coated the bed and both your bodies. your body still twitching as he stayed plugged in you, he let out soft moans trying to catch his breath. this time was insane, you guys had good sex before no doubt it was never bad, always mind blowing but this time there was so much more emotion on both ends you both needed to recover.

You sobbed, so sore and worn out that it was all you could really do. Slashs face came into few as he lightly picked you up.

He held you against his chest, rocking you back and forth as you slowly came down, “shhh shhh bunny...deep breaths..” You followed his lead in breathing, your mind becoming more clear. Well, as clear as it could be in that moment since you were still very exhausted. “Come on..let’s go get cleaned up..” He kissed your forehead sweetly, smiling against your skin as he carried you to the bathroom. You clung your him, not wanting to be set down or moved anymore than you already have.

Your muscles were sore and your overall being was worn out. As he lowered you both in the bath, he started to hum a soft tune. You didn’t recognize it, must have been something new he had been working on. He ran his hands threw your hair, the other leaning over and grabbing a washcloth. He soaked it in water, bring it to your face as he continued to hum softly. That’s when the hums started to turn into words. He sand softly in your ears as he washed all the sweat and tears from your face. Slash was never one to sing in the first place, but him singing to you never failed to make you smile. “There’s that pretty smile..”

“i-i-i love you slashy” you hummed gripping his chest giving him weak kisses. “i love you bunny” he bummed rubbing your back, “thank you for letting me have you fun” you giggled looking up at him, “you deserved it baby, you were so sexy” he chuckled lowly, “mm thank you” you leaned up kissing him deeply enjoying the feeling of his body against yours with the warm water surrounding you two.

CO-WRITTEN WITH @s-lasxh

#slash x reader #slash fic #slash gnr #slash hudson #Saul Hudson #gunsnroses #slash imagine #velvet revolver #smut #slash smut

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