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lufyuu · 3 months ago

Text

,,Homesick''

Tw/s: gore-ish, mentions of blood, hate-love, reader is NOT a good individual, very rough sex, marking (several times), aphrodisiac effects, reader fucked into unconsciousness, overstimulation, possessiveness, semi rushed.

Part 1 | Part 2

Huff huff, a man huffs and puffs, trying to catch his breath while running as if someone or something is chasing him. He doesn't even look back, not wanting to know what would face him. This time, he intends on never getting caught. Never getting locked up. It would be the first and last time he'd ever get caught. He promises himself that.

Not even a month ago, he spotted a mysterious cloaked figure spying on him through the window of the bedroom. That wasn't the scariest part. The thing that scared him the most was that the bedroom is located on the top floor. As 'fearless' as the man claims to be, this experience shook him up. It reminded him of the man who had been keeping him captive yet...the vibes were different. This figure had a dark presence whereas Zihao had am

The man had even memorized the servants' schedules in order to get out of that wretched manor.

But despite all his efforts in running, the woods seem endless. The sun was still shining brightly when he first escaped but now dusk approaches, the sun dipping slowly but noticeably. The man thought that he would be out of the woods by now but no. He's stuck in these seemingly endless woods. The longer time went on, the more nervous he became. He had always been the hunter and not the hunted. Hell, he doesn't even know if someone is hunting him. He just knows he wants to get far far away from the place. Even if he's having second thoughts every now and then, he stays determined to find the exit out of these woods. The man has gone through countless woods before, what's one more?

Just as the sun sets, the tired man hears the sound of cars..! This is his chance to finally rid himself of the chains which have been holding him back all this time.

"S-sir..!," He almost drops to the dirty ground, clutching his stomach as he limps towards the now pulled over car. He has his head down incase the driver does recognize him. With his body drenched in sweat, the oblivious man falls for his deceit. "What the..are you okay!?," the man instantly gets out of the car, approaching the 'injured' man who just emerged from the woods. It was dangerous, especially when night's about to come. As the man got closer, he realized that the other had no blood coming out the part they were clutching but before he could question it, the latter, with a swift move, slices his throat with a sharp stick. As expected, the man falls down, his body lifeless and limp as a pool of his own blood started to form. "That was too easy," the escapee finally stands up straight with a smirk. Even after all this time, he hasn't lost his touch.

He picks up the body and effortlessly throws it into the woods, not caring if it's found or not. All he wants now is to breathe more of this fresh air and get the fuck out of there.

All the murderer had to do was turn the keys and the vehicle started. As he stared into the rearview mirror, he saw the infamous serial killer whom everyone thought was off the streets, staring back at him. [Name] [L.Name].

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

A couple months has passed since that incident and the streets are bloodier than ever. Your skills and knife grow sharper day by day. Because of you, the streets went from being lively to somewhat gloomy. With everyone always looking over their shoulders in case anyone tries to sneak up on them. Or incase they see you, lurking in the dark. Everyone's been begging the police to search harder for the fugitive but no matter how hard they look, they can't seem to find you. You've learned from your previous mistake. It's something you plan on never repeating again.

The public has been more pressure than ever on Zihao specifically. People think he let you go on purpose due to his very unusual sentencing a few months back. In turn, Zihao has become easily irritable, it's made clear by the way he's been sentecing caught criminals.

Trespassing on private property? 3 years with a $3000 fine. Shoplifting? 4 years—you get the point. Hell he even sentenced someone for slandering his name in his courtroom. 10 years without probation.

Despite his very odd behaviour the past few months, nobody questioned. They only saw it as him stressing over the fact you've escaped under his watch. 'It was probably humiliating for him,' 'he must be trying to save face,' people thought. But it was far from the truth. It's true he wanted you back but he didnt feel humiliated, rather, he felt worried, angry. Zihao wanted to know why you would run away from him when he has given you nothing but the best. He wants you back within reach, to feel you against him once more. As each day passed without your precious face next to him when he awakes, without your menacing glare, without your venom, the worry in his chest only grew. He couldn't think straight without you within reach. Just how did you get away..? He had set up a whole barrier incase you tried to flee so why did it break?

The more Zihao thought about your escape, the more questions he had. It shouldn't have been possible and yet you were gone. Nowhere to be found despite his efforts in tracking you down. His beloved, out there, avoiding him. How his heart hurted like never before.

Somewhere outside the city, you had made yourself rather comfortable, getting back the old life you were forced to leave. Though, you didn't have the luxury you were so accustomed to. Everything felt a bit odd but that was just the price for freedom. Who were you to complain now that your freedom's back? You can unleash bloodshed whenever and however you want now!

...But gosh all this freedom wasn't as amazing as you expected. It was hard getting adjusted to your newfound freedom. You often find yourself questioning that mysterious cloaked man's identity. He hadn't done anything but it was still creepy and weird for him to be staring at you through the window like that. Though, those questions didn't have your full attention as because you had gotten so used to your life with bastard of a judge, you would occasionally be curled up craving someone's touch. To have their hands all over you and fuck you good. You tried ignoring your tent for as long as you could but gave in eventually. Even as your hand pumped your hard cock, you just didn't get the same satisfaction you had gotten with Zihao. Not as if you'd ever admit it though. Eventually, you decided to hook up with some prostitutes, perhaps they'd provide the same satisfaction.

Oh you were so wrong. Not only were they terrified of you once they had learned of your name, they couldn't even fuck you right. The more they tried to please you, the more you got annoyed until their heads inevitably splurted out thick crimson liquid. A whole mess for the staff to clean up but at least you did them a favour by getting rid of an incompetent worker.

On one of those bloody nights, you decided to go out on a stroll after a gruesome kill. "Tch," you clicked your tongue, "this is tiny as hell," you said with one hand in your pocket while the other was holding a mutilated dick of the man you had just murdered. Throwing it away in a discrete area and snickering as it falls down, hitting the ground. You were far enough from the crime scene to be able to stroll worry free. The night was still young, being only midnight, you wonder what else you could do.

The downside of being a known and wanted fugitive was that _everyone_ knew your face. Making it harder for you to navigate around. "Hah, what a pain...," you say as the thought took over your mind. Life was much simpler back then. Back with Zihao. "Fuck!" You kick over some rock at the thought of your captor. You can imagine his smirking face so clearly. But it's all in your head. That bastard's been in your mind all week and it's just pissing you off. Your heart and body longs for his while your brain longs to see the man's head chopped and served on a platter to you.

You shake your head, perishing the thought and thought about something, anything to do. Something interesting.

That's when you notice a random gust of wind accompanied by a strange and large shadow. It wasn't small enough to be an animal that's for sure. It couldn't be a bear as you're not even near any forests. Without saying word, you turn around, looking everywhere to find the source of that strange wind. When you find nothing, you sigh, perhaps your head's playing tricks on you again. Not a surprise, you've surely just gone insane because of the whole captive situation with Zihao. Right..?

"Fuck, maybe I should just get back," you mumble and start to walk faster to the direction of wherever you'd stay for the night.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

The list of missing people and victims grew almost endless. Their bodies mutilated in a way nobody could ever imagine. It was definitely the work of a fucked up maniac. One such as yourself. Well, it was your work anyways. You made sure nobody else could take the credit after working so hard on those bodies.

Your merciless and brutal murders scared even the most fearless men. They'd cower at the sight of you which motivated you even more. No more staying at home, no more being locked up, no more Zihao. Just the way you liked it. Right?

You wish you meant the last part but even in your sick head, you felt something akin to homesickness. Maybe that's not the right word. You just felt lost. After so long of living in luxury and having someone tend to your every need, you craved it slightly. Even if it was at the cost of your freedom. But wasn't it better than being a wanted runaway? Zihao no longer had control of you, though. It's all you've ever wanted. There's no way you miss his soft touch, gentle kisses— gosh what were you even thinking. Did he place some sort of spell on you? You're [Name] [L.Name]. A brutal serial murderer. You have no time for these trivial feelings. They were never a problem so why now?

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

You were restless that night. Plagued with all sorts of nightmares involving him...but oddly, he was the one who saved you from this unknown figure each time before dissapearing from your grasp. You would wake up with cold sweat from just a mere nightmare. Panting, trying to catch your breath as you wake up in a hurry, looking around to see if anyone was near, looking for the cause of that vivid nightmare but..nothing.

And it continued to be like that for the next week. Each time the figure felt closer and closer. You knew it was all in your head but it just felt so..real. Even after all this time the question still lingers in your mind, just who is that mysterious man? Hells, the only reason you knew it was a man was because of his deep voice which sounded almost like an animal's growl the first time you heard it. You wanted to dig more into it but found it hard as you had no leads. Even as a serial murderer such as yourself, that figure had shaken you up. How was it that someone could rescue you so fast and swiftly while you spent several months inside that prison-like manor without a chance of escape? Though, these questions didn't prevent you from doing your weekly murder. Why would it anyway?

To be fair, it was also your way of getting things off your mind.

After catching your breath, you finally calm down enough to decide it's time to get ready for the day. Going out in the day was no easy feat for a wanted criminal such as you. You have to wear outfits or accessories that can hide your face or at least half of it while not standing out. You much prefer the night's embrace. You could walk around freely by that time of day.

Walking out of your hideout, you expected to see the sun shining as always but it looked rather gloomy. Something about it was very off. Perhaps a storm was coming? No that's not right..it looks different than a storm. Even the vibes you were getting weren't great. "It's fine, the weather's just a bit weird sometimes." You try to reassure yourself, it's not something to worry about. Step by step, you walk around the city, making sure to avoid the busier parts filled with officers out looking for you. While looking around, you notice that there were more officers patrolling than usual. You knew they were trying hard to locate you but the amount of officers were ridiculous. Even more so as it was only for one person. "If Judge Liu wanted to find me so badly, he should've patrolled himself," you say to yourself while shrugging.

Though, something was off. Very off. The city folks seemed more wary somehow. Have they already found the mutilated body? There's no way, you would have heard of it by now. Plus, there wasn't this big of a reaction when your other victims were found in a worse state. Speaking of...there were more people walking around than usual. Ever since you've been on the run, the city folks avoided going out, resulting in the city being uncrowded. But today, everyone seemed to be gathering for some unknown reason. You'd expect a crowd of this size to be loud and full of life but all you hear are murmurs. It's very eerie even by your standards.

Asking around whilst keeping your identity hidden, you find out that Judge Liu has...vanished. It's as if he just dissapeared. The revelation should have made you jump with joy but it didn't. Somehow, you felt a lump in your throat, your heart drops at the news. Zihao...is gone? Just like that? "There's no way." You tried to convince yourself despite your foot tapping and your palms starting to sweat a bit. It's a joke, isn't it? He's a dragon and this city's respected judge, he wouldn't just dissapear like that. Were your dreams becoming a reality—no, no. There's just no way.

Taking a few steps forward, you were too lost in your thoughts to notice the tall man infront of you. As you bump into him, he stops in his tracks and so do you. "Tch." You let out, you were already feeling conflicted and this just set you off. Without hesitation, you try to walk around him, ignoring his presence as much as possible. A grip on your wrist causes you to hold a dagger at his throat. Looking up at the stranger, you're shocked to look into the same eyes you did all those months ago. The man who had helped you fulfill your wishes. Him.

The hesitation gives him enough time to knock the dagger out of your hand and also pull you in just close enough for your eyes to roam around his face, taking note of his unusually bright red eyes with a slit as a pupil and the many many scars he has on him. Particularly the slit he has from his left mouth to cheek. "We meet again, Zihao's little mate." 'Little mate.'

With a swing of your fist, you manage to knock him square in the jaw which forces him to let go of your hands, almost pushing you away in the process. You were nothing if not your brute force and precision. "The fuck did you say." As you were about to deliver another blow, an unknown force stops you. His eyes glowing even more. Unluckily for you, everyone was far too focused with one another to see or hear this exchange between the two of you. You wanted to kick but that didn't work either. "Feisty. Though, I wonder why dearest Zihao chose you out of all the other humans." He tilts his head in amusement, seeing your angry expression. "Don't look at me like that sweetheart, you're flattering me," his tone teasing as he releases you from his magical grasp. Your heart drops at a thought. What if Zihao dissapeared because of him..?

"All this talk about Zihao, are you obsessed with that bastard like all the others?" You snarl at the man, showing aggression. He's silent for a moment, eyes a bit wide before bursting out in laughter. "Hah...me? Obsessed with that old man? You're funny," he stops laughing, "I want that motherfucker dead." His expression suddely serious, eyes so full of hate that even you can't comprehend it. "And I know you hate him too, despite being...marked by the guy sooo why don't we take him down together hm?" He offers and you lift up an eyebrow, why would he want to team up with you? He's shown what he's capable of alreay. Magic. Despite your reputation, you are still a human afterall. "I know what you're wondering, you're a mortal yada yada but you're different don't you get it? I mean, it's not everyday you come across a famed and escaped serial killer now is it?" He looks at you expecting a nod but you don't do anything, leaving him sighing. "Are you in or not? I could just slaughter him myself—" "I'm in." You finally answer. Maybe this way you won't feel conflicted about him anymore. Maybe this was the solution all along.

Leading you away from the city, the two of you trek into the deep forest, the sound of leaves crunching and branches snapping were the only sounds that could be heard. "Where are we going," You ask suspiciously, looking around for any sort of trap. "Oh don't be so impatient, you'll see soon enough, [Name]." The man is relaxed but you're not done asking questions. "Since you know my name, what's yours?" You look expectantly at him, waiting for an answer. A name. Maybe you'd even recognize it. His expression is oddly not the usual smirk he has. It takes a few seconds of silence before he states his name, "call me Zarek." Zarek smiles at you while the two of you continue the long walk. It's an unfamiliar name, you've never heard it before but something about it makes you uneasy.

As the two of you walk, you begin to feel as if you were reaching your destination. The homesickness was going away. This change of feeling showed on your face with Zarek taking notice. "You feel it don't you? His presence growing near. It's giving you comfort huh?" He looks at you with a mad expression, more than slightly amused at your expression and body language. Before long he's laughing to himself, enjoying your uneasiness. "What the fuck are you laughing at," You say, facing him, it's more of a threat than anything. All of a sudden he stops, his laugh stopping with his steps.

Your eyes widen to see the sight infront of you. Zihao, chained up. His legs chained while his hands were cuffed. His usual calm demeanor was gone as his eyes met yours. A look of anger spreads on his face as he turns to look at Zarek. "What's with this." "I'm merely helping you out, brother. See your beloved here?" He grabs your chin and hand, making sure you're not able to attack him. "His soul looks absolutely delectable. I just wanted you to see me devour him whole." With your legs, you try to kick him but to no avail.

"I know you've grown weak without your precious mate, Zihao. How does it feel to see him so close and yet out of reach?" Zarek smirks at the restrained dragon who's glaring sharply at him. "He's already marked, Zarek." Zihao warns but his brother doesn't seem to care. "Well, you seem to forget, Zihao. A normal mark like this on a mortal can be overlapped by another," he has a smug look as he says this before turning towards you, "honestly, I was planning on just killing you after a taste of freedom but..," he trails off, his hand cupping your face, "this feels more satisfying."

As you go to stab the man, he stops you by sinking his teeth into your neck, freezing you in place as pain takes over. Just a split second after that, you break out of the trance and find the strength to push him away hard enough that he falls. "Holy shit you're just as insane as him," you say, referring to the man just a few feet away from the two of you. He had biten deep enough to draw blood. Your neck aches, a throbbing pain radiates from the bite. You'd never gotten attacked before, you were always the hunter, not the prey.

The man on the ground doesn't make an effort to get up. He only licks the remaining blood on his lips. "I can definitely see why Zihao loved you so dearly to even keep you away from his family. You're too delicious to share." "You fuc—" your words are cut off by the sudden sensation your body is hit by. Your face contort as your body begins to feel oddly hot, "what the actual fuck did you do to me..!" You barely had any energy to yell the words out as your legs were almost giving out. It was then that Zarek finally got up from the ground, approaching you as you backed away, closing the distance between you and Zihao.

Zarek snatches you into his arms, almost as if holding you hostage as your back is pressed against his. You to your left to see his maniacal expression, he looks as if he's about to devour you full. "This is going to be a lot of fun," he can barely contain the excitement in his voice. Zihao's eyes widen in anger as Zarek's hand roam around your body ss you were helpless. All you wanted to do was stab him right now but you weren't in control of your body.

You close your eyes, wanting this shit to just end already when everything went...quiet. well, except the spund of something tumbling on the leaves. The disgusting hands once on you were gone. When you open your eyes once more, you see that Zihao has somehow broken free of his restraints, his horns and tail out and about. You look behind to see Zarek's dead body. His body pratically sliced in half as his eyes are wide open.

You didn't know how to react as the sensation still hadn't faded. Zihao instantly ran towards you, both his hands cupping your face, looking into your eyes, "[Name]." He says your name, over and over again, as if desperate and not wanting to lose you. You've never seen him in this state. "You're never leaving my side, ever fucking again." His voice changes, you feel weak under his gaze. You're too out of it to even protest even when you really want to. "Zihao...," you call out in almost desperation in your voice. Zihao notices the tent in your pants, realizing what the effects were. "That fuckward." He says, malice in his voice.

"Goddammit, just fuck me right now!" You grab his collar and initiate a kiss. It's deep and full of lust. You haven't felt his lips in so long. The contact drives you crazy. His soft lips against yours. His long tongue which pushes itself into your mouth and almost down your throat.

The two of you break the kiss. "Let's go back home—" "no. Fuck me right here, right now, bastard." Zihao looks at you with lust filled eyes. It's clear he's been holding back, thinking of you. "[Name]. I won't stop even if you ask me to."

In just a few minutes, one of his dicks is already deep inside you. You're being held up by him, your back against a tree as your legs are limp. One on his shoulder as the other layed limp in his hand, wrapped by his long tail. Your pants long discarded while he still had his on low enough to let his cocks out. "[Name] you don't know how long I've been waiting." His voice is full of anger and lust, thrusting into you roughly and with an inhuman speed, not caring for your screams. If someone were to walk even a few miles into the forest, they would hear your wonderful moans. Even as your fingernails dig into his flesh, he doesn't seem to feel it as he's only focusing on fucking you so full of cum that you don't even think of escaping ever again.

The purple mark on your lower stomach which has dissapeared before, reappeared and this time, it's going to stay. "You're mine, all mine, nobody else can take you." He then bites into the same area Zarek had bitten, making you arch, your eyes wide but the sensation wasn't really painful, it somehow filled you with bliss. You felt safe, protected. You leaned your head on his shoulder as he continued to pound your ass.

"Hah...agh mm..Zihao!" You screamed out his name, indicating you were close to your climax. Soon enough, you came as he continued his powerful thrusts. Having just came, you were even more sensitive. Your body trembling, "you're still so...tight even after all this fucking. Hah...Gods, you were really made for me." His thrusts went even faster as he chased his own climax, the sound if your ass being pounded so hard clear as day.

He cums inside of you, no cum escapes as he leave his cock inside, plugging your hole. Just as you were about to catch your breath, his second cock entered slowly but surely. You close your eyes, bracing for the pain of it all. After both of his cocks are in, you felt too full to even talk. You've felt this multiple times before but it still manages to surprise you each time. "I-it's too much..ah..," you moan as he lifts you up, leaving just the tips of his cocks in, "I need to claim you fully," was all Zihao said before he thrusts all the way into you, balls deep. You scream at the sensation, so full of cock. As he thrusts in and out, you can hear squelching noises as his cum practically acted as lube. His grunts indicated how pleasured he is, fucking you so hard. Your beautiful noises encouraging him even more.

"Don't ever, ever...agh..Leave me again." He says, his words having a hint of desperation, wanting to hold you even closer than right now even if it's impossible. "M..mhm..aCK—" his cocks manage to hit your spot just right, making you see stars. Your mind goes blank. Zihao notices this and takes advantage of it. He thrusts deep inside to hit your prostate on purpose. You could only lay limp and take all of it, moaning so much you know you'll lose your voice the day after. The dragon's grunts accompanied by his fast and rough pounding manages to make you even more horny. "Only you can handle me, [Name]," he states and you know it's a fact. Who else would be able to take two cocks at once? Certainly not anyone you know.

He squeezes your thigh with his hand, his nails almost digging into your skin. Due to the pain and pleasure of taking both cocks, you bite down on his neck, leaving an equal mark. But, you don't let go even after tasting his blood. It has a metalic taste just like any other but you were almost addicted to it after the first taste. The flavour is just...enticing.

Zihao barely noticed his flesh being pierced by your teeth, the amount of pleasure he was in just fucking you was indescribable. How could he even focus on anything else but your tight walls squeezing around his cocks? He wanted to pump you so full of cum you could never walk again. So that you would always remain by his side. Never to escape again.

After several deep thrusts, the two of you cum at the same time with him cumming inside while you splurt all over the both of you. "AGH...!aH!" You moan as loud as your voice could, Zihao moaning with you as he felt himself unload inside. Even as he's cumming, he's still thrusting as if there's no tomorrow. "Z-zihao AhHhhHh..." You didn't even have a chance to protest. You were already too weak to yell at him for his relentless thrusts.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

"You've been awfully..agh, quiet, [Name]," Zihao says with a smug look on his face, clearly knowing why that was the case. "You're practically drooling now." And that, you were. Your body limp whilst Zihao pounded your redish hole over and over again, leaving you no room to take a breather. You knew he loved to fuck multiple times in a row but..this has got to be a world record! His libido is insane. You couldn't even think of that as your brain was practically mush now, leaving you no room for thought that wasn't about the judge infront of you right now. Maybe oh just maybe if you hadn't gotten caught a few months back, you wouldn't be here today, being stuffed so full and fucked so dumb that nobody would ever think of you as the dangerous serial murderer you actually were. Or maybe that is what Judge Liu wants.

Your mind can barely process his words after he stops thrusting. "[Name], take a good look." He points below, prompting you to look at the direction of his finger. What you see if your belly swollen, full of cocks and cum as there's droplets of cum flowing out of your hole as you couldn't take anymore inside. You could kill 100 men and it wouldn't feel this tiring, as you look up at him, he grabs your chin to face him. "You're forever mine. Don't forget it, my mate." Before long, you close your eyes, falling unconscious.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

When you awoke, you found yourself in the same room you had desperately tried to escape from months back. But this time, you felt more at home than anything. You knew better than to get up, just moving around slightly ached. "Fuck fuck fuck." You curse at nobody in particular as every part of your body hurted like shit. Well at least your hole's not dripping with cum anymore. "Where the fuck is that bastard," the words fall out of your mouth naturally, referring to the culprit, Liu Zihao.

Footsteps can be heard as someone's walking closer and closer to your room. Speak of the devil. Before long, in walks the Judge Liu in all his glory with...a tray of food and drink? "[Name], you're awake," he says, his voice as delicate as flower qs he approaches you with the tray, setting it on the table next to you. "Here, you've been out for long." He goes to feed you some water, holding it up to your mouth as you slowly get up, sitting upright on the bed even if it hurts. "Take a sip at least." He waits until you drink almost half of it due to dehydration. "Hah, what would the people say seeing the Judge Liu feeding a murderer a drink?" You smirk at the guy as he sets the water down. He looks back at you with a sigh. "Don’t ever leave me again. You know the dangers. Especially after facing Zarek. He's sure to return once more." Upon hearing this, you were confused, "he's dead though, you sliced that fucker in half, I saw." "We dragons are different, even if our physical bodies are destroyed, we can come back so long as..nevermind. Just know that he'll be back for you so..stay."

"As if! I enjoyed my freedom to the fullest." You were lying through your teeth. You had felt a piece of you missing when you were away from him, you were definitely homesick—but of course you wouldn't tell him that!

Zihao looks at you with a displeased look before moving like the flash. In just a moment, your hands are pinned to the headboard as your legs parted to make room for his figure. "Then maybe I'll have to fuck that rebellion out of you." He licks his lips with his elongated serpent tongue, his eyes already glowing as the slits became even more visible. You shivered, knowing what was about to happen. Maybe it was out of excitement or perhaps fear.

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Guess who's back!! Finally! I'm so sorry for making you guys wait so long, I was super swarmed by work💔🫠

#bottom male reader #oc x male reader #x male reader #male reader #xin's liu zihao ☆#「By the hands of Xin」

767 notes · View notes

noctiva · 3 months ago

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oh my heavens oh my DAYS i am claiming bunny anon ( this one specifically!! 🐇 )… dewd u have to let me know ur thoughts on toby fluff and smut mixed together!! I AM A SUCKA for it….

LIKE IMAGINE???? HIM COMING HOME ONE DAY JUST SO TIRED.. baby boy just wants to lay back against the couch and just nap and just… reader gives him head.. telling him all sorts of praises and compliments.. overstimming him.. WHOWOWOOWEIHEOHWO and when he finally cums he’s just a sobbing drooling mess of whimpers OH MY LAWD

I read ‘sobbing drooling mess of whimpers’ and FLEW to my keyboard. you are a visionary and i hope you know that thank you for blessing my inbox

A Little R & R

Toby Rogers x F!Reader [NSFW!]

WC: 6.3k

Summary: After a particularly long day at work leaves him practically dead on his feet, Toby wants nothing more than to just sit back and relax. Lucky for him, he has a lovely girlfriend to help with that

CW: 18+ content, explicit sexual content, brief mentions of violence and death, playing with his mouth gash a lil, oral sex (male receiving), wet and messyyyy, begging and teasing, dom/sub undertones but it’s not really that deep, deepthroating, spit and drool, overstimulation, snowballing kind of, praise kink!, borderline body worship, but it’s Toby soooo.. real, tears from both parties, slight dacryphilia, pathetic men!

NSFW under the cut! Minors do not interact!

It had been a long day.

Though he couldn’t feel the pain and soreness, Toby could feel the fatigue in his bones. Seeping into his muscles. Weighing like an anchor on his shoulders as he dragged his feet with each shaky step.

He had been up early (well, ten AM. His version of early), and spent the greater half of the day knee deep in forest brush as he tracked down the target for that particular day. It had been cold too. Snow falling and accumulating on the ground below him, heavy boots crunching each time they hit the forest floor. He had felt the effects of it; stiffer muscles, shortness of breath, eyes watering every time the wind whipped past him.

It was supposed to be an easy mission. Tim and Brian were supposed to help him with it. Not that he needed their help, and had made that very clear when they told him they were going to be taking off to deal with something else out of town - but it would’ve been nice. Would’ve been nice to have an extra set of hands, or two, to find and subdue his two victims easier.

Would’ve been nice to have Brian’s gun, to finish them off faster and more efficiently.

Would’ve been nice to get home a few hours earlier.

But he made do, like he always did. Refusing to let himself look less than capable. It had taken him far too long for his liking, but by two PM each of his hatchets had found a new home lodged within the skulls of two very unfortunate souls. Blood against snow. So stark and bright against the previously unblemished backdrop.

It was really, quite picturesque. He however, was too annoyed and exhausted to really take in the sight. Because though the job was over, it wasn’t really over. He still had to drag these two heavy, limp bodies off to some even more secluded area of the forest. Dig a hole in this frozen, snow covered earth, then throw them in.

And he wasn’t even getting paid for it. God, this was stupid.

By three PM, he was finally walking back. Back to the little cabin he had made a home out of with you. Which, really, was one of his only motivating factors nowadays. If he just got through the day, and did what he needed to do, he’d be rewarded with the gift that was your company.

Your voice, so sweet and soft as you asked him how his day was. Your hands, so gentle as they carded through his hair - nails scratching against his scalp in soothing patterns, sending a shiver down his spine. And your smile. God, how he loved your smile. So lovely and warm, bestowed upon him. Like he wasn’t a killer, a monster of a a man.

With you, he was just… Toby. And he liked that. He liked that a lot.

The work didn’t stop when he got home though, much to his dismay, because he was very quickly reminded of his other job. Caring for you. Not that it was really a job, because he liked doing it, but fuck if he didn’t wish he was a normal member of society on days like this one. A person who could just drive to the grocery store, because it wasn’t a literal forty minute journey away.

But he didn’t have that luxury, and so, if he wanted to eat tonight - he had to go hunt for it.

Toby had popped inside for a little while, given you a kiss on the cheek and asked about your morning, but far too quickly thereafter he was trudging out the doors of his home once more and walking back out into the woods

Again, he never minded providing for you. If anything, he got gratification from it - knowing that you relied on him. It felt good to be needed, to be loved and appreciated.

But man, he was exhausted. His muscles were screaming at him by the time he had trekked back home, hauling a deer carcass with him that he would no doubt also need to skin and butcher before he handed it over to you.

Work was never over. It was never over.

When he finally walked through that cabin door for the final time that day, Toby was dead on his feet. His eyes were drooping, hands trembling from fatigue, knees weak as he forced himself to take step after step. He felt like he may just collapse any moment, but all he had to do was make it to the couch.

Maybe take a little nap while you cooked dinner, then have a meal with you before retiring to bed for a well needed night of rest.

That sounded lovely.

“Toby, hun? You alright?” He heard your voice as he dragged himself towards the couch in the living room, and glanced at you before offering you a tired smile.

You were peeking out from the kitchen, barefaced and beautiful, wearing what he recognized to be one of his hoodies as you leaned against the doorframe. Christ, you really made it all worth it. Just the sight of you alone, so sweet and pretty, like an angel that floated around his home.

For a moment, you made the fatigue riddling his body seem not that bad. The guiding light in the gruesome, abhorrent string of events that was his life.

“J-Just tired.” He murmured back to you softly, as he reached a hand up to tug down the hood that had been covering the shaggy mess of hair atop his head. His signature orange goggles rested snugly in the strands, lenses scratched and stained with what you knew was blood. Human, or animal? You weren’t sure. Probably both. “Long d-day, you know?”

You hummed softly in response, watching with a keen eye as he slowly made his way over to the couch - then promptly flopping onto it. Sprawling his limbs, sinking into the cushions, eyes fluttering shut on contact.

He looked drained. Completely, utterly, rinsed clean of any energy he had when he first left the house this morning. His eyes were closed, long lashes resting against his cheeks, body near limp as it sunk into the sofa. You watched as his chest rose and fell with every breath, soft and slow, his lips parted.

He looked… Pretty, you thought to yourself. So pretty as he lounged against the couch, his body tired and worn.

So tired, because he had been caring for you. Keeping you safe, bringing you meals, making sure you were happy.

He lived and breathed for you, it seemed. A fact that was never lost on you. Toby put all of his time and effort into making sure life was nothing but a breeze for you, and you had to wonder… Did you deserve it? Did you provide for him, just as he provided for you?

You tried to. Washing him clean of blood and grime, stitching his wounds shut when he came home beaten and bruised. Patching up his clothes and trimming his hair. Was it enough though? Would it ever be enough?

Did he know, just how much you meant to him?

You’re moving before you even realize it, the meat you had been planning to prepare left sitting in the refrigerator. You couldn’t help it, you felt as if he needed you, right now. Needed to be appreciated, loved, needed to know just how much you valued every little thing he did.

You reach the couch in record time, and then you’re sinking down to your knees. You rest your head on his chest, your hand coming up to rest on his stomach - feeling the warmth of him through his stained hoodie. You feel as his jolts at the touch, eyes snapping open, immediately honing in on the sight of you so close. “W-What’s up?” He asked hoarsely, gaze directing down to your hand, and the way it had begun rubbing soothing circles against his abdomen. The touch gentle and soft, just as you always were.

“Missed you.” You murmur back to him, looking up at him as you press your cheek to his chest. He’s staring down at you with half-lidded, tired eyes, confusion evident in his irises. “You know I love you, right? And all the things you do for me?”

“I-I don’t do muh-much.” Toby mutters back to you with a sheepish little smile, bringing a hand up to rest upon your head as you nuzzle into him. His arm felt like it was made of lead as he raised it, fatigue seemingly flowing through his veins. But he would endure it for you, to touch you. To hold you close. “Just d-doin’ what I’m supposed t-to.”

“No…” You answer back to him, before raising your head up. From there, you bring your whole body up - crawling onto him so fluidly it barely makes the couch rustle. Almost like you were supposed to be there. You watch as his eyes widen minutely, fingers twitching in the air where they had once been resting against you, and you smile sweetly down at him. “You do so much for me, baby. You know that, don’t you?”

You sit up, thighs straddling his hips, your body pressed so undeniably close to his now. You know he can feel it, if the way his cheeks had begun to flush was anything to go by. He looked so cute like this, all wide eyed and pink all over. Eyes still drooping from exhaustion, but fighting to stay open just so that they could fixate on you.

You hum softly before lifting your hand, bringing it up to cup his cheek. The marred side. Sensitive, you knew it was, and so you grazed your thumb against his exposed gums on purpose - just to see what his reaction would be.

His reaction, proved to be absolutely lovely.

He whined softly, brows pinching together as your fingers grazed the sensitive flesh. A surge of tingles wracked his body, stemming from the source that was your touch. So soft, so light, and yet it was everything. You set his body on fire. You always did. Your touch a force that sent him reeling every single time, and he wasn’t sure if it was because he was so tired, but it felt like the intensity had increased tenfold as you passed your fingers over his skin. “So good to me, Toby. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Y-You’d be fine.” Toby mutters, though his words do come out shaky. He can’t help it when he leans into your touch, and you feel it when a small amount of saliva seeps out of the gash and wets your palm.

Already drooling? God, he’s cute.

“Nuh uh.” You giggle back to him, your eyes somehow both sickeningly sweet and suffocatingly heady as you look down at him. From your perspective, gazing down at him as he looks up at you with a mounting desire in his gaze, Toby looks like a dream. “You’re everything to me. My sweet, sweet boy. Always making sure I’m safe.”

Your palm leaves his face, dragging down his jawline and brushing against the stubble there - and you watch as his neck flexes under the gentle touch. “Always working so hard. Getting up early, staying up late.” Down his neck, your fingers trail. Feeling how his Adam’s Apple bobs when he swallows thickly, his pulse fluttering under your touch. Your palm comes to rest on his chest, and then you can really feel his heartbeat. Racing. Near frantic from your tender hands. “I don’t think you give yourself enough credit.”

“SS-Stop it, baby.” He chuckles sheepishly, the pink flush on his cheeks spreading up to his ears and down to his neck. All pink and pretty beneath you, that’s what he was right now. Trying to fight it but doing so in vain. If it wasn’t the colour of his face that was giving it away, it was the look in his eyes.

Dark, pupils just widening more with each word you spoke. “I’m j-just doin’ my job.”

“You don’t have to do any of this.” You murmur back to him, pressing your palm against his chest before it starts to trail down lower. Over his ribs, down the slope of his abdomen. Feeling how his muscles tense under your touch, even through the layers of clothing. “But you do. Because you’re amazing.”

Slowly, your fingers reach the hem of his jeans and curl underneath it - feeling the fuzz of his happy trail graze against the back of your hand. His hips, ever so impatient, jump at the contact, and suddenly he looks more awake than ever.

“W-What are you doin’?” He asks, like a deer in the headlights as he lifts his head a little. If you thought his pupils were wide before, they were damn near swallowing his irises now - especially when your fingers drift down a little bit lower to play with the buckle of his belt.

Your eyes lift to meet his, a playfulness in your gaze that makes his heart stutter (and his cock come to life).

“Just… Showing my appreciation.” You hum softly as you lazily play with his belt. Not undoing it yet, just toying with it. Making your presence known. Your nails clink against the metal of the buckle, and his heart rate kicks up a notch. “Don’t you think you deserve it?”

You didn’t think it was possible for Toby to go even pinker, and yet he manages it. You hear it as his breathing trembles on exhale, his whole body going taut the more you teased him.

“N-No. I mean… I-I don’t-“ He’s fumbling for words, stumbling over them and stuttering more than he usually does. He’s looking at you like he’s never been touched by a woman before, all flushed and shaky. As if you hadn’t gone down on him more times than you could count. As if you didn’t have the taste of his cum ingrained on your taste buds. It’s… Adorable. Really sweet, actually. “I just… I mean- You d-don’t have to.”

“I know I don’t have to.” You giggle softly, raising an eyebrow at him. “I want to. Do you not want me to?”

You want to. You want to make him feel good. His body had been growing increasingly hot since you had first settled onto his lap, but he felt like he was burning up now. His skin was on fire, his clothes feeling more and more suffocating with each touch you laid upon him.

“Of c-course I do!” Toby rebuts immediately, so eager it makes a grin spread onto your lips. “I just d-don’t want you to feel like… I’m expecting it. B-Because I do things for you.”

You could swoon right then and there. Could you fall even more in love? You didn’t think it was possible, but he was really proving you wrong right then and there. You could just eat him up. All twitchy and tense beneath you, a visible bulge growing in his jeans throughout the course of the conversation. He was so reactive to you. Always had been. Getting hard if you did so much as place a soft kiss against his neck.

It was one of your favourite aspects about him, really. His desperation.

“Don’t be dumb.” You chastise lightly, a sweet smile on your face that told that your words weren’t to be taken completely seriously. “Have you ever considered that maybe I like doing it?”

And just like that, all of the blood in Toby’s body rushes south.

“Y-You do?” He chokes out, his chest feeling tight and his pants feeling tighter. He watches in a daze as you start slowly pulling his belt undone - pretty polished nails and soft fingers, working to get him bared for you.

“Uh huh.” You speak back to him in a low murmur, your own heart jumping as you pull his belt free. You don’t stop there, languidly tugging it from the loops, wanting any restriction completely removed. “Is it really so surprising? I love all of you.”

You drop his belt to the ground, a movement that his eyes flick over to for just a second, before they’re fixating on you once more. This absolute goddess on his lap, turning him to mush without even placing a single finger on him yet. “I love… Your eyes.” You hum as you pop the button of his jeans. “I love your voice.” You start to tug his zipper down. “Love your laugh, and the way your eyes crinkle up when you do.”

Once his zipper is down fully, your fingers grasp his waistband again - shimmying it down low on his hips until he got the hint. He got it rather quickly, shifting on the couch to let you pull the material off of him completely.

Left just in his boxers, you can really see the effect you have on him. Cock straining against the thin material, a visible tent with a wet patch at the tip. You lick your lips, before taking in a shaky breath. “I love how sweet you are to me. I love your hair. Love your nose.” You slide your body back a little bit, making it easier for yourself as you lean down low - bringing your face closer to his confined length. “And I love your cock.”

Was he melting? Toby was sure he was. His joints felt gooey and his entire body scalding hot. Not to mention, he was tingling all over - your soft whispered praises making him squirm beneath you. He wasn’t quite sure how to handle all of this, really. Being the focal point of your unwavering desire.

Normally, when something like this happened, you were at least bared as well. Just as vulnerable, just as shaky when he touched you just right. But this time, it was only him. Him, exposed and desperate. Him, on the receiving end of all your sinful words. No distractions, no other motive, just him.

He thinks he might just combust if you keep this up.

Little did he know, that was the plan.

You dip your head down low, nuzzling against his clothed length with a soft moan. Feeling how achingly hard he was, the pressure of it against your cheek when you rubbed up to him. His hips jolt at the contact, a strangled noise leaving his lips.

Your eyes flick upwards, and you see him watching you - his gaze equal parts aroused and in disbelief as you part your lips. “I’m gonna take care of you, don’t worry.” You murmur as your hands drift down his body to splay against his hipbones, holding him in place even as he tried to rut up towards you impatiently. “Just gotta be patient. Sit back and relax, okay?”

Easier said than done. Especially when you stick your tongue out and drag it against the length of his clothed cock. “So hard for me already.” You coo softly against the fabric, lips brushing against him in the most tantalizing way. “You look so good like this, you know? So hot.”

Toby thinks he genuinely might fucking pass out. The sight of you, mouthing against the tent in his boxers, face flushed and eyes dark, makes him feel woozy. Not to mention, you just keep talking. Just one layer away from his throbbing desire, showering him with compliments in that sweet, sweet voice of yours.

If you’re not careful, he might just cum before you even get him fully bare.

(You’re aware that’s a possibility, but would that really be so bad?)

“Y-You-“ Toby’s voice chokes off when you bring a hand downwards, leaving his hip to cup his length instead. Curling around it through the fabric of his underwear, squeezing with just enough pressure to make his vision go blurry against the edges. “J-Jesus fuck, you’re one t-to talk.” He manages out, voice trembling and wracked with stutters.

You hum softly with a sly smile on your lips, before pressing a kiss to the head of his cock.

“Maybe…” You murmur softly. “But this isn’t about me.” You lift your head up, hand still pressed against him but your lips wander. Tracing the his happy trail with a line of sloppy kisses, smearing spit against his scalding skin with each one. “This is about you.” His muscles tense up under your lips, abs flexing beneath you each time you make contact with his skin.

Slowly, you start to move your hand. Stroking him lazily as you drag your tongue against him, revelling in all the little whimpers and moans you can hear him trying to hold back. “This is about how much I love you,” You nip at his hipbone lightly, and you would swear his entire body jolted. “About how good you are to me.” You rub your thumb against the head of his cock through the fabric, and he’s hissing through his teeth. “How you deserve all this, and more.”

You can feel him throbbing under your palm, twitching every so often and so incredibly hard. If this were any other night, he’d probably be balls deep in your leaking cunt by now, but this wasn’t any other night.

As you had told him so explicitly, this was completely and utterly about him, and him alone.

“B-Baby-“ Toby’s gasping out when you squeeze him softly, right as your mouth starts to suck a red mark just above the waistband of his underwear. “Y-You gotta- I can’t-“ His words are strained and hoarse, like he’s forcing them out - and when your gaze lifts to look at him you can see why.

His head is tilted back now, jaw tense and muscles taught as his chest heaves with every shaking breath. He’s flushed all over, right down to his collarbones, and his hands are gripping the couch so tight his knuckles are going white. There’s a glint of light, and that’s when you notice the line of drool running down his neck. “I need- need to feel you. Puh-Please. D-Du wirst mich b-brechen.”

When he slips into his mother tongue, that’s how you know you’ve really gotten him good. Usually, that only really happens when he’s already deep down your throat, so to hear it before even properly touching him makes your heart jump in your chest.

He’s such a mess already. Such a beautiful, trembling mess.

His eyes, which had previously been squeezed shut, flutter open when he feels your actions still momentarily, and- Holy fuck, is he about to cry?

You can see it, the glassy sheen, making his eyes glitter when the low lights of the living room hit them. His eyelashes are damp and clumping together, and his bottom lip trembles when he releases it from where he had been gnawing it between his teeth. “S-Sei nicht gemein.” His voice quivers, and you think for a moment that you might just be a little bit of a sadist - because you don’t think he’s ever looked more lovely.

But you won’t push him. Not tonight.

“Am I being mean?” You ask softly, eyes locked on his when you shimmy down his body again. His breath catches in his throat when your lips hover over him once more - breathing out a hot puff of air against the dampened material. “I’m sorry, baby. Wasn’t trying to be. Just wanted to see if you tasted as good as you look.”

You finally, finally start to tug on his boxers. “You do, by the way.” Lower and lower you pull them, until his cock springs free just inches from your face - hitting the tensed muscles of his stomach with a slap. The moment you catch sight of him, you quickly understand why he’s so bent out of shape.

He looks painfully hard, his length flushed red and leaking at the tip as it throbs against his skin. You don’t know if you’ve ever seen him more worked up than he was now. And you’re a lot of things, but you’re not cruel.

You said you were going to take care of him, and so that’s exactly what you’d do.

You wrap a hand around the base of him, fingers curling into a gentle grip, and Toby has to fight to not just cum from that alone. Your hands, so soft and tender, felt like an angel’s touch. His chest heaves, a gasping breath leaving him when you start to slowly pump his cock. Gathering up all the sticky mess at the tip to slide it back down, grip with just the right amount of pressure, thumb dipping into his slit on each upstroke.

“H-Hah-“ Toby sinks into the cushions, mouth dropping open as soft little pants leave his lips. “Y-You.. Fuck, I l-love you.”

“Love you more, baby.” You murmur back to him, then you’re finally dipping your head down to where it needs to be. Your lips part, and you stick your tongue out before dragging it flat up the length of him - eyes on him the entire time.

Toby’s becoming increasingly convinced you’re trying to send him into cardiac arrest.

The sight of you, looking so lovely and sweet as you peer up at him through your eyelashes. Your hand languidly moving against him as you give a few kitten licks to the tip of his cock. Lapping up his precum greedily. It’s like, the perfect combination of cute and provocative, and so he really can’t help it when his hips buck up towards you eagerly. Especially not when you circle your lips around him.

“A-Ah, Scheiße-“ He hisses out, eyebrows screwing together when you start to sink your mouth down onto him - your hand still working every inch you hadn’t swallowed up yet. You’re so warm and wet, cheeks hollowing around him as you take more and more of him in. Lower and lower your head sinks, and by the time he’s bumping against the tense muscles of your throat - Toby’s thighs are already trembling beneath you.

His whole body, is trembling actually. Ragged huffs of breath spilling from his lips, along with a flurry of gasps and moans then send a bolt of heat straight down to your gut. His voice has become increasingly raspy, a fact that has you shifting your thighs together as you work to take him all. Even more so when he lets out a soft whimper before whispering; “Y-You feel so good.” The words come out as more of a whine than anything else, so desperate and overwhelmed. “D-Du fühlst dich wie H-Himmel.”

You let out a little hum in response around him, and the vibrations it lets out makes his toes curl. It’s when you take in a deep breath through your nose and sink down even lower, that his eyes are rolling back.

Your nose bumps against his pelvis, nuzzling into the soft fuzz there as his dick slides all the way into your throat - muscles wrapping around him like a glove. A soft gag from you just makes them tighten around him further, and he’s choking out a strangled cry.

You feel it when a shaking hand comes to rest on top of your head, desperate in the way his fingers immediately curl into your hair. Tugging a little too hard, maybe, but you really can’t blame him. Besides, the sting it produces isn’t even an annoyance either - it feels nice. Feels like he’s clinging onto you for dear life. Like he’d crumble apart if he ever were to let go.

Your tongue darts out, and then you’re licking up the small pool of spit that had already begun to accumulate around the base. When you start to pull your head up, an absolutely filthy slurping sound accompanies the action.

It rings in Toby’s ears, only further spiking the temperature of the heat he was completely consumed in. With laboured breathing his head is spinning, legs twitching and trembling beneath you - fingers wrapped in the strands of your soft hair. He wants to keep watching you - how your lips stretch around him, the sight of his length disappearing into your throat with each bob of your head - but it’s really a struggle.

He can barely keep his eyes open, and even when they are his vision is fogged up and unfocused. He is able to still make out how lovely you look though, flushed pink with a paralyzingly potent look of desire in your eyes. Tears cling to your lashes before they start running down your cheeks, and yet you just keep pushing. Taking his whole length every time you bring your head down, eyebrows furrowing together at the feeling of him filling your throat.

And he just can’t help himself.

The hand on your head gives an experimental bit of pressure, just seeing how you’d react. You nuzzle into his palm as your drag your tongue back up his cock, meeting his eyes with a gaze that left no questions. ‘Go ahead’. It said. ‘Do whatever you want’.

His fingers twitch. You had really meant it when you said this was all about him.

Almost hesitantly, Toby uses his grip on your hair to tug you w upwards, revelling in the way your tongue dragged against him along the way. When you’re left with just the tip enclosed in your lips, he lets out a shuddering breath. “S-So fuckin’ pretty.” He murmurs, absolutely entranced by the display in front of him. “Womit ha-habe ich dich verdient?”

Your eyes sparkle with unshed tears, and he’s completely captivated. Slowly, he pulls you back down - lips suctioning to the taut skin as you suck him back in.

He just can’t take it anymore. His head lols back against the couch’s armrest, eyes squeezing shut as wave after wave of white hot ecstasy washes over his entire body. He feels like he’s drowning in it, his head stuffed with cotton as he gasps for air. With his jaw hung open, he can absently feel the slickness as drool pools in his mouth before rolling down his chin - but he’s too far gone to even care about it.

It runs down the slope of his neck, dirtying the collar of his sweater and leaving his skin glistening. It’s just too good. You’re too good. Taking everything he was giving you so eagerly, letting him bob your head up and down on him without so much as a little whimper of complaint.

You were just eating him up. Slurping up the mess you were both creating happily, flicking your tongue against the tip every time he pulled you up. You can tell he’s incredibly close. Hell, he’d probably been holding it back for awhile now. Throbbing and twitching against your tongue, so hot and hard it felt like he might just burst any moment.

“SS-So good- So- hah- Fuck, you’re amazing.” His words are barely more than mindless babble, slurred and shaky as they pour out between moans. It’s like you’ve melted him, reducing him to a puddle of mush that you were lapping up eagerly.

Any issues from before had been wiped away completely. The fatigue, lingering frustration and annoyance from how the day had played out - it’s all gone. You’re the only thing that existed right then. You, and that glorious mouth of yours. “I’m- I’m so close, b-baby. I can’t. F-Fühlt sich zu g-gut an.”

If your mouth wasn’t stuffed full you would’ve cracked a grin.

He’s a pitiful sight right now, really. Skin smeared with drool and sweat, eyes screwed shut with tears clinging to his lashes. He’s a trembling, twitching mess - filling the air with strained whimpers and gravelly moans.

You can’t help but feel a little proud of yourself, for reducing him to such a state.

Your hands, which had been resting on his thighs, drift upwards. Over his hipbones, under the hoodie that he still donned - pushing it up to his chest. His muscles are so tense, abs more prominent than ever as they contract and relax with each nod of your head. You splay your palms wide against the skin, and Toby’s so sensitive now that he quite literally jolts at the touch.

He felt like his nerves had gone into overdrive, the simplest touch from you sending sparks of pleasure through his entire body. Your hands against him left what felt like two burning handprints against his abdomen, tingling wherever your skin met his. You feel his cock throb when he reaches your throat once more, and you know just how to push him over.

Curling your fingers, you slide your hands down his stomach - dragging your nails against the sensitive flesh as you do so. You feel his muscles convulse beneath your palms, and Toby’s letting out a sound closer to a sob than anything else as his hips kick up towards you. “A-Ah, fuck- D-Du bringst mich um.” His grip on your hair is definitely painful now, tugging at your hands so harshly that the sting is undeniable. His bucking hips start to stutter, choked off whimpers spilling from his lips before he’s gasping; “I can’t- I c-can’t, baby-“

You hum around him in encouragement, rubbing your thumbs over his hipbones in slow soothing circles. That little gentle touch, is what seemed to be the final straw.

Toby lets out a broken cry as his hips buck into your mouth, and then his shoulders are drawing back as his release hits him like a ton of bricks. It’s a pitiful sound really, a long drawn out whine followed up by a few cracked sobs of pleasure as stars dance behind his eyes.

He spills into your mouth, coating your tongue white with rope after rope of sticky warmth. You take it all like you had been starving for it - suckling at the tip to draw it all out as he squirmed and gasped on the couch beneath you. Was it too much? Maybe, but he just tasted so good - and the sounds he was making were even more delicious. It’s really hard to find the will to stop.

You don’t let up until he has to beg you to. “B-Baby- ‘S too muh-much-“ He’s whimpering out, cheeks moist with tears as his eyes flutter open to gaze down at you. He’s sniffling and shaking when you finally release him with a soft ‘pop’, and you press a kiss to the tip before you let go of him completely.

Another kiss meets the skin just below his belly button as you reach down to gently tuck him back into his boxers. His skin is still so hot to the touch, and his thighs tremble when your fingers lightly graze them.

Slowly your eyes lift as you bring your head up, and you meet gazes with Toby’s hazy ones. He looks so sated and satisfied, limbs practically limp as they sprawl against the couch cushions. Still though, he finds the energy to lift his arms and grab at you. “C’mere.” He mumbles softly, already tugging you close before you can even agree (not that you’d ever protest).

You sink into his arms easily, your body pressed to his - exchanging heat, sweat, and everything in between. Your hand lifts, and then you’re cupping his face once more, gently wiping away some of the drool on his cheek with the sleeve of your sweater.

“So sweet.” You whisper softly, tracing the curve of his jaw with your thumb. Toby’s staring up at you like you’ve hung the stars in the sky, lovestruck eyes half hidden behind drooping lids. “I love you.”

His lips stretch into a lazy smile, forming those little creases in his cheeks that you adore so much. He leans into your touch, a soft little sound of contentment leaving his lips. Then, he reaches up with a shaky hand. It finds a home back in your hair again, cupping the back of your head tenderly before he’s pulling you in closer.

“L-Love you more.” He answers back in a soft breath, one that washes over your lips before he closes the gap between you.

His lips are slick and the kiss is sloppy, but you melt into it regardless - moaning softly into his mouth when he nips at your bottom lip.

He can taste himself on your tongue when he licks into your mouth, a fact that makes a shiver go down his spine. He can still picture you, every time he closes his eyes - nestled between his thighs. So beautiful, and so determined to make him feel good.

Quite clearly, you had succeeded.

Toby’s reluctant to pull away, content with just lazily sliding his tongue against yours as you let out the sweetest noises that he just swallows right up. But, he does anyway, and a thin line of saliva connects the two of you for a moment as he pulls his head back.

Somehow, he looks even more smitten than before. “I think…” His fingers move, lightly scratching soothing patterns against your scalp. “I th-think we should have a later d-dinner. I don’t really want t-to let you move any time ss-soon.”

You let out a soft giggle and nod, easily conceding as you snuggle into him further. Your head comes to rest on his chest once more, and you breathe out a soft little sigh. His hand slides upwards, gently petting the top of your head.

“Sounds good to me.” You murmur.

Toby lets out a tired little hum, letting you lounge against him as his head tilts back once more - resting against the cushions. He can feel your heartbeat thumping against his skin, the weight of your body against his a comforting pressure.

His eyes flutter shut, and he lets out a tired breath.

He’s asleep mere moments later.

—————————————————————————☆

HOOOOOWEEEE I had a BLAST writing this! loved this concept so much I banged this whole thing out in a couple hours no breaks

something about a man crying and whimpering will do it to me every time

if any of you reading are waiting for me to post part two of my one toby fic it is being edited as we speak! just wanted to get a few asks done first - thank you for being patient <3

and as always thank you for reading!

#toby rogers #crp #creepypasta #creepypasta x female reader #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta x you #ticci toby #ticci toby x reader #ticci toby x you #ticci toby x female reader #ticci toby smut #toby rogers smut #toby rogers x reader #creepypasta smut #creepypasta headcanon

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namjooningera · 11 months ago

Note

Hi, first timer here. May I humbly request for a drabble with Yandere Nanami wherein his darling gets sick and tries to avoid Nanami, but fails and gets coddled in return

You absolutely may!

Yandere JJK react to you being sick

Characters: Nanami, gojo, geto, Toji

Tw: sickness, forced physical touch, poisoning (?) 👀

AN: I decided to go with all the characters cuz I actually like this prompt! However nanamis will be longer since you asked for him specifically :D btw y’all I’m thinking of adding Choso! Tell me what y’all think ;)

Nanami:

You cough and shake, body trembling. Nanami’s at work, you know that because he isn’t on his side of bed. His watch and phone have been picked off the nightstand, the windows were sealed shut again, and the clock on the night stand buzzed with the numbers

11:23 am.

It’s late. Well, sort of. It’s the late where you don’t usually wake up. Sure you don’t wake up as early as Nanami does, but you at least wake up before the afternoon.

Before, you’d wake up as early as possible, well, when you had a life, that is.

But your sniffling, your nose is clogged and your body aches. Your throat, restricted. You can barely swallow down that dry saliva because dammit your throat aches. You need some water to smooth your sore throat, but you find the glass at the night stand completely empty.

You slowly crawl out of bed, on all fours, body weak and mind empty. You’re tired, you feel dirty, and you feel like you could pass out.

You basically limp to the kitchen with your glass in your hand, at any point knowing you could drop it. It’s just so heavy in your weak hand, and it fucking slips.

It slips onto the floor and shatters. You sigh, staring at the broken glass on the floor. No worries! Right? You’ll pick up a broom and clean it up later.

That’s a future you problem

Amongst all the other problems you have. You get another glass from the cabinet, filling up your cup and downing the water. It hurts so bad, like a shards going down your throat but the slight relief it gives, helps.

But you can’t stand for long, your bottom hitting the kitchen counter, hands grabbing the edges for support. You stumble into it, trying to move, but your eyes get blurry.

Your body is weaker, your vision is weak, eyes droopy and legs starting to give out.

It’s fine- you’re fine. Is what you tell yourself. You can’t let Nanami know about this. He’ll take care of you- then his ego will boost ten fold. He’ll probably get more clingy and desperate, protective. He won’t let you go for a second then after your no longer sick, he’ll think he has some control over you know. That you owe him. That’s what you think anyway. Not that he actually cares about you (oh he certainly does), but you’d like to keep it in your head that he’s being fake, that he’s a bad man. Because you know as soon as you realize his actions are purely out of love, that he loves you, perhaps you’ll actually start to gain empathy for him. Feel emotions.. you shouldn’t.

He was your favorite coworker, best friend. You grew up with him, or at least from high school. He’s taken care of you before, but now you just don’t trust it.

Your back, starts to slide down the kitchen counter, and you hazily sit against the kitchen cabinet. You look at the time.

“11:46 am”

Ok great, he won’t be back until 7 right? That’s how it normally is if he has some out of city mission.

But your eyes get droopy, your dizzy, your vision is blurred, mouth dry and oh-

Your head is heavy and falls over onto the floor. You’re on your side, shivering. It’s hot but your also shivering, you can’t tell if your freezing or if your heating up. Your mind starts to shut down and so does your body- the sweat that drools down your forhead, the body heat that illuminates your skin.

You lay unconscious on the kitchen floor.

Nanami’s excited.

He’s able to come home early today. Around 3pm? He was so glad. It turns out this out of city mission was actually a lot simpler then told- or maybe it was gojo beating them before he could even arrive. Turns out gojo finished them off quick so he could have a chance to eat out in another city with Nanami. Nanami rolls his eyes at the thought. Luckily he was able to escape after a while of entertaining Gojo Satoru for that long. He could come home early to his darling and he was excited.

Excited to spend the mid-day with you too. He opened the door excitedly, a sliver of a smile adoring his face as he opened the door, bakery sweets in hand (he had to buy some to cope with Satorus constant crude comments).

“Sweetheart! I’m home!”

He says cheerfully, but his smile drops just a tad when you don’t come to the door to greet him. He just shrugs anyway, going off to the room to find you and tell you about his insufferable day, but feed you sweets and tell you, you make it all better.

But as he passes the kitchen, he immediately stops, his head is thrown in your direction and he sees you. On the floor.

You’re on the floor. Why are you on the floor? Why’s there broken glass? Did you hurt yourself? Purposely? On accident? He runs over, his feet sliding over the glass, he winces but ignored it, dropping on his knees, looking at your sweaty cold body. He was confused at the glass, his aching feet, your cold but heated body passed out on the floor.

“D-dear? My love?” He whispered. His voice lingered with panic, major panic actually, he was terrified.

“Dear please!” He raised his voice for the first time ever, breaking one of his own rules he had for himself.

Your ears are ringing, but your eyes finally start top open and you look up at him.

“N-Nanami..” even though your angry at him, furious, you look up at him, and you know the fear in his eyes are genuine.

And you see your best friend.

Your high school best friend. The sweet man from high school. Patient, kind, caring, quiet, your lovely best friend. The one that you.. had more then just friendly feelings for. I mean how could you not? He was so sweet and perfect. Always spoiling you, taking care of you, making sure you ate and we’re always well kept. He made you laugh too, unintentionally most of the time but still hilariously. And oh was he handsome. He’s always been, and it always made you wonder why he never dated. Never say anyone or had something as simple as a crush. You always thought it was probably because he was too busy, the jujutsu sorcerer life isn’t easy, it’s time consuming and utterly dangerous, no fit for a relationship.

You look up at Nanami. He’s your best friend. A year rolls down your eye, dropping to the floor.

“Sweetheart? Don’t cry? My love, what happened?” His voice was shaking, he was scared.

You haven’t seen him like this before.

Hah, no that’s a lie. You have. And it was.. quite.. violent.

And right before you got kidnapped.

You get it now.

He did do this, kidnapped you and all, for your own safety. To make sure he’d always have you his palms, his hands, so that you’d never break.

But look at you. Even now. Even though your in the safety of his home, his surveillance, your still ill and wounded.

Your shaky breaths leave your mouth and your lidded eyes look up at him. He swallows hard. He considers taking you to the hospital- but no. They’d take you away from him. But he’d also rather have you completely safe and hurt free. If letting you’d go meant you’d be better, then so be it.

But his hands shook as he went to touch you. He didn’t want you to leave. Once he lets you go you’ll be gone forever.

His hand caressed your cheek, a tear bubbling in his eyes, and that’s when you know. When you know what’s in his mind, what he’s thinking.

“I-I’m fine..” Your voice incredibly shaky and desperate.

Just get away. You think. Leave me alone. Fuck. You want him gone, you want this asshole- the idiot who betrayed you- who kidnapped you who hurt you- you want him gone and off your back.

“You’re not fine. Your not! Sweetheart I- what happened?”

“C-could be uh-“ you cough, “food poisoning?” Perhaps, but you’re unsure. You’re both unsure.

He picks you up. His arms shaking and feet stinging from the small shards of glass that stick up his heels. He carries you to your room, placing you softly on the bed with a shaky exhale leaving his lips.

His face is pale and sweaty, he looks more sick then you.

“I’ll call you an ambulance okay?” Shaky tears leave his eyes. He holds your hand tightly, towering over your spread body.

“W-wha?”

He sighs, a sad smile on his lips.

“I-if that’s what I have to do.. to.. stop this.”

You think. You could get away, have that chance. But you also think it isn’t worth it.

Looking up at your best friend, the tears leaving his eyes, that soft smile he’s looked at you with before. Fuck. You know there’s something deeper to this, he didn’t do all of this on purpose. His obsession, obsession with protecting you and shadowing you and god just his constant paranoia and possessiveness until he kidnapped you- it had to be at a fault not from him right?

And looking up at the man you called your alley, your best friend, your crush. You had to save him. Maybe then, once you do, you two could be normal again? You could learn to forgive him, he’d let you go, and heal. And once he healed.. perhaps you two could be something more? More than a forced relationship.

Your hand tightens over his. Barely, but he feels it.

“S-stay.”

His eyes widened and he looks down at you. “Honey? What?”

“D-don’t wanna go Kay? Can take care of m’self.”

He grumbled at that. “Absolutely not. Your body is heated to hell and your shivering. You look terrible.”

You huff. “Rude.”

“Dear please let me take you to a hospital? Or to get checked out at least, please?” He’s so desperate, it’d be sweet if it wasn’t for the situation you were in, with a lovesick yandere. But you knew he wouldn’t let you go until someone could heal and take care of you. You sighed to yourself.

“Just go buy some medicine? Will be fine…” you mumbled.

“Do you have to be so thick headed? I know you’re in pain. At least let me take care of you.”

“Just leave me alone!”

Your scream threw him back, stepping back from you. “I…I understand.”

He left the room, his eyebrows bunched up and his mouth in a scowl. You felt disgusting, but hoped some nap could help. A nap that would wake you up from this horrid shit, perhaps this was all a dream.

Alas, you wake up. And it’s not a dream. And you feel even worse, actually. Your throat is completely closed, you can’t speak for fucks sake, your entire body is covered in a thick inch of sweat and you feel sticky. Your clothes are too tight and your hair feels wet, sticking onto your forehead. Your stomach is empty but still feels twisted, and god your body is so weak. So weak you can’t get up, so weak you don’t think you can even move your hand to grab the glass of water on your nightstand.

Everything hurts. You can’t avoid Nanami now, you need him.

“N-Nanam…” your realize your voice is basically gone to dust, you can’t speak and you can’t call out for him, and that’s when the panic starts to set in.

What if he left the house and won’t be back until late night? What if he doesn’t come check on you? What if he’s so upset for you avoiding him and pushing him away so he doesn’t help you?

But as your thinking all these thoughts, the door slowly starts to crack open, you see some blonde hair peeking out and an eye.

“Nan…nana..mi..” his eyes widens and he ran over to you.

“You need me?”

It’s like he was waiting out there for you to call him, right outside the door until you wake up and asked for him. You push that thought to the back of your head.

“Sweetheart- your burning up even worse then before. Please, please let me take care of you at least. I’m begging you, my love.”

You grumbled, looking up at him from your pillow. The soft expensive fucking sheets that nobody should be allowed to buy, clutched and balled up in your sweaty hands.

“F-fine.” You mumbled.

He smiled, but not one out of happiness but out of relief. “I’ll be the best care taker you’ve ever seen, my love. You’ll be better in no time.”

Gojo-

Satoru is possible the worst man you could be sick around. He gets fucking clingy and won’t leave you alone for a second. Treating you like some newborn baby who needs the utmost care at every waking moment.

That’s why, when you feel a oh so familiar cough rise in your throat, a chill in your spine and a just lovely heat illuminating from your forehead, you don’t tell him.

You pretend like it’s not even there. You think it’ll pass anyway. It’s probably some cold, some small bug that you’ll get over in a few days.

But it’s not that easy, especially when the medicine cabinet is locked and Satoru barely leaves you alone.

“What was that?”

“What was what?” Your try to play off the fast you just chocked on your own disgusting heavy cough, as if you weren’t just about to puke from how gross and vile that cough felt.

You cleared your throat and continued to watch the TV. Satoru put on some lame show and you decided you had nothing better to do, so you plopped down on the sofa to watch, too. Well, plopped down on the entire other side of the sofa.

It’s funny though, he thinks you don’t see the way he slowly scoots over closer to you every second. It’s pathetic, really. But if you didn’t hate him so much you’d actually find it kind of endearing.

“Hey, uhh. You have any pain killers? Or just.. medicine.”

He looks at you suspiciously. “Why?”

“Just.. have a headache. You know..”

He raises his eyebrow at you but nods. “Follow me..”

He leads you out of the living and to the kitchen. Where he unlocks a cabinet with a key that he pulled out of who knows where.

He grabs some pain killers for your so called “headache” and while he’s taking a pill out, you sneak behind him and try to grab some cold cough medicine.

And obviously, you get caught immediately because who wouldn’t.

“I knew it! You are sick!”

“No! I just uhh..”

“You just uhh.” he mocks you. “You’re sick- I can see it all over your face. Can’t fool me.” He snickers, grabbing the cold couch medicine, and you, by the arm, and drags you to the living room where he forces you to situate yourself on the sofa while he stands.

“How long have you been sick?”

You shrug.

He scoffs. “Fine. You know what? Your not getting these,” he waves around the cough medicine, “until I get a hug. A hug for every pill you want.” He huffs and strikes his chin upwards, acting all mad and pouty.

“What? Your kidding. Satoru this isn’t funny.”

“It’s really not.” He answers.

“Fine. I’ll cough all over you and get you sick too.”

He huffed and bonked your head a few times. “Hey! You want the cough medicine or not? Don’t you wanna get better?” He teased with a very annoying smile on his face.

But your desperate, and you can feel your throat start to clog and a cough starting to gear up, you know what you have to.

“-ugh fine!”

….

It’s a few hours later.

Satoru was fucking elated. Floating on cloud nine, while you, were stuck in his arms. He had been clinging onto for who knows how long. As soon as you gave in and gave him those hugs, he wouldn’t let go.

Yes, he gave you those pills, yes you feel relieved and less sick, but god was it really worth it? Worth your dignity and sanity?

“One more episode pleaseeeee.” He whined, knowing damn well that he could just force you to watch with him anyway, but it was as if he wanted that reassurance that you wanted to watch with him too.

Which you didn’t.

“No satoru. I’m sleepy, okay? I’m tired.”

He mumbled something incoherent and grumbled, but then a smile appeared on his face.

“Oh no problem! Let’s just go to bed then!”

You didn’t realize what he meant until he grabbed you off the couch, carrying you off into your room giddily and jumped into bed with you.

He cuddled up to your side and sniffed into your neck, inhaling your scent and almost rubbing himself into your nape.

“S-satoru move..”

He chuckled and just squeezed closer to you. “But you’re sick sweetie.” He said with a faux pout, the kind where you know he was taunting you. “I need to be with you at all times to check your temperature and make sure my girl doesn’t get worse~”

Geto-

Suguru geto is a weird man.

He goes off everyday to his cult, his huge estate that wraps around his cult.

You don’t know it all started, what lead him to kill the leader and take over. No, you do know. You just wish you knew why. You wish you could’ve stopped him before his corruption. But alas, here you are.

But this time, Suguru is upset with you. Before he left to “work”, you had called him names and yelled at him. Told him to get away from you and that you hate him. You don’t know why you suddenly blew up, you’ve been eerily calm these past few days, but your upset. He’s been forcing himself on you, not sexually, but he’s been trapping you two together.

Following you everywhere you went, acting all calm when you got upset as if he wasn’t the problem. At one point he tried to get into the bathroom while you were showering, yes that was the last straw.

In your robe you yelled at him and called him out, and at one point it got out of hand, you started saying things that didn’t even have to do with why you were mad.

He left upset, he didn’t say anything. Just silent as he listened to your screams then left silent, too. And that was the scariest of them all.

But the truth is, you weren’t really upset about the fact he was trying to barge in when you were showering. Sure that would’ve been annoying and outright perverted, but you were mad for a different reason.

The way he almost found out that you were in fact, not showering.

But instead, using the showers loud water noise to cover up the fact that we’re puking.

When you saw the door handle start to turn as you coughed into the toilet, you quickly threw on a robe over your pajamas and wiped your mouth with the back of your hand.

You were angry because he almost caught you. The truth is, you’ve been sick for a while now. You know it’s some stomach bug, you get every now and then but you don’t want Suguru to know.

Because once he knows, it’ll just be another reason to control you. To coddle you and guilt you into staying with him.

But honestly the look on his face before he left- god did it make you feel guilty. You almost bit your inner cheek off seeing that. After all you still had.. unsolved feelings. He’s your best friend for fucks sake- no. He used to be your best friend. Before his corruption.

But you can’t help to think that perhaps- the Suguru you know is still there somewhere. He had to be right? That’s why he still loves and cares for you like he used to. Just now, it’s unwanted and forceful.

He comes home late tonight. You know why but you don’t say anything, you don’t comment on it. You’ve been reading, laying on your bed. Normally suguru comes in, lays on the bed and acts like he’s your husband who came home. Telling to you about his day, and asking about yours, as if he didn’t know.

But today, he doesn’t.

And you’re confused, but you don’t comment on it. And you don’t go to find him either because honestly you could care less.

But the thought lingers in the back of your mind, that uneasy feeling in your chest, heavy. You try to ignore it and read your book. But you can’t, your distracted and you can’t focus .

You decide you need some water, you get up and put your book on your nightstand. But as you walk to the door, about to pull the handle, Suguru comes storming in.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were sick?” He said angrily, basically threw the door open almost hitting you on the way, grabbing you by your mid arms.

Your confused. He doesn’t have cameras in the bathroom how could he know- oh.

You remember your slip up. The slip up you forgot.

When going to the kitchen to grab a glass of water after puking your guts out in the bathroom, desperately wanting to get that disgusting taste out your mouth and throat.

But then as you made your way to the kitchen for some water, you choke and feel yourself gagging. You throw up into the kitchen sink, coughing your guts out.

You thought that the cameras weren’t in the kitchen- and if so you forgot anyway. To focused on trying not to sob as that disgusting mass left your throat and emptied out your stomach.

“I don’t know what your talking bout Suguru..” you mumbled, trying to act stupid.

Obviously that doesn’t fly with Suguru and he just holds your arms tighter. “I saw you, don’t lie to me. Why didn’t you just tell me?” His voice was angry until it broke at his last words.

“Do you just not trust me anymore?” And god the desperation and sadness in his eyes actually hurt you for a second, the guilt in you starting to bubble up. But you push that aside and shrug your shoulders at him.

He grinds his teeth and pulls you into him. “I’ll earn back your trust, my dear. Or I’ll force it into you.”

Your eyes widen at the last part and you look up at him. He has to be joking, right?

“Excuse me?”

“Your going to bed rest for the rest of the week. I’ll be home the entire time.”

And you realize all your private time away from him has been taken away for the entire damn week, locked in a room, a bedroom, in bed, with Suguru. Fuck. But still, you did feel a twinge of guilt, so even though you heavily didn’t want to stay locked in a room with him, you unhappily agreed, but agreed either way.

Suguru just smiles at you. He doesn’t mean to be harsh, he cares. And he’s smart enough to know what your allergic to and what gets your stomach upset.

It’s just so weird how a curse managed to make it into y’all’s home, undetected by the both of you, and somehow infected you unknowingly.

Oh well.

What you don’t know can’t hurt you right?

Toji-

He’s overprotective and you know that.

That’s why, before you even know your sick, he’s all over you and checking you. He things it’s subtle (spoiler; it’s not) and he coddles you to death.

“I’m gonna take a day off today.” He’s doing it because of you and not one of his stupid excuses. And he says it, while his one arm is around your neck, the other around your belly, trapping to against his chest, your back to him, in bed.

“C-could you let go? I’m over heating..”

He groans and cuddles into you closer. “Few mo’ minutes, doll.” He mumbled into the back of your neck.

“I’m not sick I told you! Get off!”

Except it’s like your extreme refusal that your sick, the refusing his help and refusing him, just ends up in you sick.

You lay on the bed in front of him, while he pulled a chair up to you and spoon fed you soup. You can tell he enjoys it, a sly tug at his lips saying ‘I told you so’, he doesn’t have to say it out loud you just know.

You whine and tell him to go away, you don’t need him to baby you or stay home from work. That you’re perfectly fine taking care of yourself.

“Yeah? You refused me tryna’ help you and ya think you can take care of yourself fine?” He says, basically angry.

You huff and let him push a spoonful of hot soup into your mouth. “

“Why don’t ya just shut your mouth and let me take care of you. So damn bratty.”

You sigh and clutch at your blanket. You have nothing better to do then surrender to his touch because you feel so damn weak.

He slightly smiled at you, seeing you finally quiet down and let him feed you without a fight.

What a smart girl. He thinks.

It’s like you know the antidote is in the soup.

….

So that was crazy guys. Anyways! Should I add choso and Sukuna? I love them sm 😋 (tbh kinda scared to write Sukuna cuz he’s insane)

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eightmakesonebraincell · 1 year ago

Text

ateez as pirates who fall for you (maknae line)

read hyung line here

genre: pirate!ateez x gn!reader (fem!reader for jongho), fluff, angst, continuation of the pirate trope brainrot (but i must say i went all out for the plots this time)

length: 14.4k

c/w: heavy and mature themes - mdni, explicit language (swearing), death, violence, blood & injuries, weapons, illegal acts (piracy, attempted murder), alcohol, near-drowning, angst bc i mean angst, specific c/w for mingi’s au: hurt/comfort, allusions to depression

a/n: i’m very sad i never got to use this joke somewhere so - why are pirates called pirates? because they just arrrr 🙈🙉🙊 also to those who like connecting dots and whatnot there are a few easter eggs related to hyung line 🥚 big thanks to yumi @sorryimananti-romantic for getting me through the last three months of trying to work and write bc it’s been a ship time ha ha 😬👍

taglist: at the end

san

pov: you run away with san and the cromer

through your waning breath, you reach a trembling hand up to cup san’s jaw

“s-san, don’t do it”

he lets out a racking sob as he shakes his head, expression marred with agony and torment that you can physically feel in his white-knuckled grasp that covers your own hand

the tears that drip off his jaw become lost to the ground, which is damp from moisture and your blood

you swallow the metallic taste in your mouth, “the cromer isn’t meant for changing fate.” it hurts to take a breath and you wince as you stutter. “it never goes th- the way you want it to…you know that by now”

san’s voice is broken and pained, “i don’t fucking care. it’s not going to stop me from trying”

he grips your hand even tighter when he starts to feel it fall away from his cheek

it’s becoming tiring to keep your eyes open

maybe you can rest…just for a little bit

san will forgive you, right?

you close your eyes

just for a little while

just until the pain stops

faintly, you think you can feel your body being jostled against something warm

but it’s far away

far away

far

san clutches your limp body as he lets out a primal wail of anguish

you cannot die

you will not die

he snatches the glowing hourglass and flips it with desperation screaming in every cell of his body

and then his world goes white.

you don’t notice when the footsteps behind you suddenly fall silent

you’re too busy reasoning with the captain, whose back you are facing as he walks ahead and leads your crew further into the dim tunnels of the cave

“it’s much safer if we go over the mountain. we’ll have the advantage of higher ground to ambush the horizon”

your captain, taesung, doesn’t look at you when he answers over his shoulder, “it’s much quicker through the tunnels. we don’t have the luxury of time if we want to attack their crew before they leave the island”

“and what if they attack - the horizon can easily ambush us as long as they’ve got the cave’s exit guarded”

you immediately turn around to look at san, knowing that he’ll support your argument

only to find that he’s not there

he’s several metres behind the back of the group and frozen to the spot

even in the shadowed darkness of the musty cave, you can clearly see the ashen and shaken features of his face

approaching him slowly, your fire torch held out in front of you, you gently call, “san?”

at the sound of your voice, his eyes lock onto yours

he looks terrified

san is lost in a distorted warp of visions

he can’t make sense of nor connect what he’s seeing

but there is blood

there’s so much blood

it’s everywhere

you’re there

it’s your blood

there’s someone screaming; raw with despair

he’s screaming

the ground digs into his knees and he feels wet and sticky from your blood but also his tears and there are so many tears and the walls are cold from moisture and it’s so dark and musty even with the smell of iron in the air and god you’re dying

you’re going to die

“san?” you repeat, now in front of him and tenderly cupping his jaw

and san has to stop you from dying

his pupils focus on you once again before he desperately tries to gain his bearings

he looks around with increasing franticness

he’s in a cave and the only light he can see comes from the torch you’re holding and the others shared amongst the crew

water drips from the ceiling and along the rugged walls towards the damp ground, filling the cave with a stale and mouldy smell

all his senses scream the same thing to him

it’s just like when you died

his own voice sounds foreign to him when he manages to choke out, “let’s listen to captain”

your eyebrows pinch together at san’s sudden compliance, especially more so when he lowers the volume of his next words so that you’re the only one who can hear his soft don’t argue with him

there’s something about the way he silently pleads with his eyes that makes you nod numbly

you slip the hand that isn’t holding the torch into his and prompt him to walk again with a light tug forward towards the rest of the crew, who are not too far ahead

when the both of you have nearly caught up, san readjusts his hand in your grasp so that his is atop of yours

and so you two walk, san leading you with a sturdy hand; a line of defence between you and the rest of the crew…and the depths of the cave

the thin sheet of cotton that you lay upon does little to soften the discomfort of the cave’s floor as you and the crew prepare for a few hours of sleep, but your pillow makes up for it

your head is cushioned by san’s thigh, who’s seated upright against the wall after offering to keep watch

he’s gazing down at you with a tender smile as he slowly runs his fingers through your hair like a soothing lullaby

your eyes scan his, still trying to catch any changes in his expression that could possibly explain his strange demeanour from earlier

you want to ask him what’s wrong but there’s only so much privacy you can get in a cave with the rest of your crew

instead, you give his hand a squeeze

san’s smile fades a little and you wonder whether it’s the illusion of the light and shadows from the torches that makes his face look so gaunt

his eyes flicker around guiltily and then he looks at you whilst reciprocating your squeeze

he’s mouthing something, you realise

do you trust me?

you tighten your fingers around his in reassurance

with my life

the dimpled caverns return to san’s cheeks, and then he’s whispering to you softly, “sleep”

you don’t recall dozing off, but you must not have been asleep for very long before you’re woken by a light shake to your shoulder

the groggy mumble that starts to leave your lips is hushed by a warm kiss on your forehead

you’re met with the sight of san holding a finger against his lips when you open your eyes and your brain struggles to comprehend what’s happening

there’s a faint glow coming from under his bulging shirt, which could only be one thing

the cromer

as your neurons start firing again, you come to the realisation that apart from you and san, nobody else is awake yet

quietly, he helps you up to your feet

the silent question he asked before you fell asleep replays in your head, and although it does nothing to clear up your confusion, it helps to ease your anxiety because you meant it when you mouthed your response

you trust san with your life

so you turn away from your crew members and start walking, each step deliberate and careful, your hand clutched safely within san’s while he retraces your steps from today

and when san deems you two far enough and out of immediate danger of being caught, he pulls the cromer out of his shirt to use as a makeshift torch

you both make a run for it

when you emerge out of the cave’s entrance hours later, thighs burning from the strain, you almost stumble to your hands and knees from the blinding brightness of the afternoon sun

san tightens his hold on you and urges, “this way, love”

together, you climb the outcrop on the left and disappear further into the mountains because you can’t afford to rest near the cave

few words are exchanged as san nimbly navigates the rickety ledges and overgrown roots, muscles flexing as he pushes forward and helps you with an extended hand

you realise soon after that whilst he leads you two away from the cave, he travels parallel to the edges of the mountain trees - a guideline that keeps the long port of the island just within sight

“san,” you finally break the silence to point towards an overhang you spot, “we should take a break”

he’s sweating from exertion and lack of sleep, so he nods with a grateful smile and leads you towards it

the rock provides a decent amount of shade and conceals you two well enough with the surrounding greenery

only when he sits with a sigh does he finally let go of your hand after hours of holding on

you know that he’s one for constant physical affection, but this…this feels different

it’s like he’s afraid that you will slip away the moment he lets go of you

you turn to look at him

“san, what exactly is going on?”

he’s quiet

he doesn’t know how to tell you - is there even a way to package his next words prettily?

letting out a stuttering breath, san puts it blankly on the table, “i saw you die in my arms”

you’re stunned into silence and your throat feels even drier than before

“was it…” you dare to ask, “was it going to happen in the cave?”

he nods, “i just suddenly saw it and it felt so real. it- it was dark and wet and the smell - the smell was just awful and-”

“hey, hey, san. it’s okay, we’re not in the cave anymore,” you soothe, pressing your forehead to his

you feel him relax under your touch before he tilts his head to kiss your lips

“yeah,” he sighs against you, “you’re right”

when you pull away, the faint glow under his shirt catches your eyes

“why did you bring the cromer?”

if it had only been you and san missing from the crew, taesung might not have bothered going after the two of you

but with the missing cromer too, the captain will spend the rest of his life tracking it down - tracking you two down - if that’s what it will take

taesung isn’t stupid enough to just let go of the cromer and the inexplicable power it holds to travel between dimensions

san shimmies the hourglass out of his shirt and holds it carefully in his hands, “i need a fail-proof safety net, just in case something goes wrong and…i still don’t end up saving you”

“a safety net?” an uneasy feeling settles in your stomach, “san? what are you not telling me?”

he runs his fingers along the metal casing over and over again as he avoids looking at you

“i…i’ve used it before,” san finally admits, “i used the cromer to bring you back to life”

without thinking, you blurt, “it’s only meant for travelling between dimensions. nobody knows what the repercussions are if you try to mess with fate!”

“well, i did it.” he snaps, “you’re here, alive, and i would do it again and again to save you”

at his words, you soften

because san didn’t just see you die

he lived through seeing you die

you can’t even begin to imagine if you had been the one to experience san die in your arms

“i’m sorry,” you apologise. “thank you for saving me, and for loving me”

san’s eyes are red when he looks at you, “i’m sorry, too, for snapping at you. i know this is a lot for you to process”

you shake your head with your own watery smile

“i’m alive, and i promise i’ll stay alive”

“and i promise i’ll keep you alive,” he nudges your cheek with a playful peck

you laugh, because san makes you happy even in the most uncertain of times, and you ask, “what’s the plan now?”

“find a ship that’s willing to get us the hell out of here”

he makes a move to stand and you place your hand on the ground to push yourself up to your feet too

except your hand shifts with your weight and you end up cutting your palm open on the sharp edge of the rocks

hissing, you draw your hand back towards your chest

“shit, let me have a look,” san drops to his knees and takes your hand in his

he gently blows away the soil and rubble around your wound as you wince

it’s nothing too serious, but it’s deep enough that blood immediately begins to pool in the broken skin and seep further out onto your palm

the glow of the cromer pulses

“san,” you start when you see the cogs moving in his head

he removes one hand to pull the cromer out and presents it to the both of you

“i’m not losing you to infection from a cut, not after everything that we’ve done so far to get to here,” he quips

there’s only time to let out an exasperated sigh before he’s taking your good hand to turn the cromer together

your world goes white

the next moment when you open your eyes after blinking, you’re still there resting under the overhang in the mountain forest

san’s sitting next to you, the only sign of the cromer a faint glow under his shirt

and your hand…

there’s no cut

your head whips towards san and his eyes widen when he sees the unbroken skin of your palm

san makes a move to stand, but this time, he gathers your hands and pulls you up with him

“it worked,” you breathe out once you’re on your feet

“it worked!” san repeats, engulfing you into a crushing hug

the amount of relief he feels is uncontainable, because the cut is reassurance that he can change fate with the cromer

in high spirits, san tucks it back into the safety of his shirt after wrapping it in a length of sash and then he secures it snugly under his belt

you two need to look the part of inconspicuous travellers, and a glowing hourglass would most definitely draw unwanted attention

you and san cut through the back streets and alleyways of the small village that separates the mountain and the coast, keeping an eye out for not only your crew members - or ex-crew, you suppose - but also the members of the horizon

“remember,” san whispers into your ear as you both approach port, “if anyone asks, i’m your husband and we’re travelling merchants”

you’re too nervous to answer but you nod anyway, letting san take the lead once again

with the confidence of somebody most definitely not lying, san strides up to a sailor who is yelling at his men to load the crates faster and spins a story right out of his ass

somehow, san manages to concoct a convincing recount of how your goods were stolen by thieves, leaving you both without any means of making money, so now you are left with no choice but to go back to your hometown which happens to be on the way to the ship’s destination, which you know because you overheard the sailors talking earlier

when the sailor glances in your direction, you try to nurse your expression into one of simultaneous distress and gratitude in hopes of selling the story even further

he simply stares at the both of you and you think that he’s going to turn down your request, but then the sailor gives a sweet smile and extends his hand out in greeting, “daeho. welcome aboard”

that’s how you and san find yourselves in the ship’s hold, legs crossed side by side on the wooden floor and surrounded by a multitude of crates and barrels

neither of you realise that you’re holding your breaths and it’s not due to the stale air in the poorly ventilated hold

only when the shout of “anchors aweigh” is heard and the ship slowly starts to pull away from the dock do you finally relax, the feeling of hope slowly seeping into your bodies

because all that’s left now is to wait for the ship to dock at the next port and then you and san can disappear and start a new life

at the notion of safety, your stomach finally calls for attention with a grumble

san teases, “sounds like someone needs a bit of food,” just as his stomach answers with a growl of its own

you break out into laughter and pull him up with you to snoop inside the crates for something edible

lifting the lid to one of the crates, you peer inside to find what looks like a layer of burlap

you reach down with a hand to remove the covering and dig deeper, only to jerk your arm back when you feel the burning pain of a cut

“oh fuck, what?” you hiss as you look into the crate again, “why the hell are there so many knives?”

san is beside you within a split second, already turning you around to cradle your hand in his

the cut extends across your palm and there’s something sickening yet eerily familiar about the way the blood rapidly starts to pool and seep past the broken skin

goosebumps spread across your body when it hits you

“san,” you look up at him with a trembling voice, hardly audible over the pounding of your heart, “it’s the same cut”

his eyes bore into yours with reflected horror when your words sink in

because if it really is the same cut, then that means-

san’s attention suddenly shifts to behind you and that’s the last thing you register before your head explodes with blinding pain

your world turns black.

there’s a ceaseless hammering in your skull when you regain some semblance of awareness and it takes all of your willpower not to let the throb drag you back into unconsciousness

you open your eyes with a groan, trying to clear your vision, only to find san still out cold on the floor beside you

you scrabble closer towards him and brush his fringe out of his eyes

“san,” you shake him a little, “san, wake up”

his mouth tightens into a grimace as he’s slowly brought back to consciousness at the sound of your voice

“fuck…they hit hard,” he props himself up with another curse before he asks you in a panic, “are you hurt?”

you start to shake your head but then think better of it, “my head hurts like a bitch, but i’m okay”

san pulls you into his chest and wraps his arms around you

you let yourself sink into the safety of his embrace, pretending that everything is okay even if just for a moment

“i’m sorry, i’m so sorry,” san repeats the apology into the crown of your head

you can’t do anything but return hushed whispers of comfort and hug him tighter

a sudden clang draws you out of his arms as you both turn in the direction of the sound

that’s when you realise you’re no longer in the hold

you’re in a cell

the brig of the ship is much darker and the air is suffocatingly musty from the lack of ventilation and the perpetually damp floors and walls

damp from what exactly, you really don’t want to know

you hear the heavy thud of boots amplifying as the person approaches your cell, your eyes straining to make out their face in the dark

they squat in front of your bars

the sweet smile on daeho’s face makes him look crazed now and you shrink back to put some distance between you two

“did you have a good rest?” he asks, sounding genuinely curious

at san’s seething growl of anger, daeho raises his hands up in faux surrender and states, “i just want the cromer”

“i don’t know what you’re talking about,” san glowers

the other man wriggles his fingers at san’s waist, “you’re not very good at hiding it in your shirt”

almost as if it knows it is being talked about, the cromer flashes from under the layers of cloth

“why didn’t you just take it from us earlier,” you bite out

daeho clicks his tongue with a disappointed smile, “but then where’s the fun in that?”

he stretches a hand out and waits with his palm upturned just outside of the cell bars

“now give it to me,” he demands

san stares in retaliation, not once looking away as he slowly reaches for the cromer

he takes it out of his shirt and unwraps the sash from around it, then starts to extend the hourglass out towards daeho’s hand

as you watch with bated breath, you notice the subtle tightening of san’s grip around the metal casing and you realise he intends to flip it

except you’re not the only one who comes to the same conclusion

you see the exact moment the facade drops from daeho’s face and is replaced by his true derangement

the hand by the pistol at his side starts to move

but so do you

this time, everything turns red as the scorching heat of pain paralyses your entire body

the cromer falls to the floor at the same time as you do

from outside the cell, daeho laughs viciously, but it’s drowned out by the agonising cry that comes out of san’s chest

san desperately gathers you in his arms, hands pressing against the bullet hole to stem the blood flow

but there is so much blood

it’s everywhere

the ground digs into his knees and he’s wet and sticky from your blood but also from his own tears and there are so many tears and even with the pungent smell of iron in the air he can still smell the mustiness of the cell and he can’t get enough oxygen into his lungs because god you’re dying

and he’s suddenly struck with the heart-wrenching thought

did he unwittingly condemn you to your own fate?

or is it like the cut on your palm - is he unable to change fate no matter what decisions he makes differently?

the sob that wrenches itself out of san hurts you more than anything

“i love you,” you say, because your words are numbered and you want them all to be san’s

he shakes his head furiously, “shut up, you’re going to be fine”

your words come out effortfully, “please, i want to hear you say it one last time”

“fuck,” san buries his face in your shoulder, “i love you so, so much. i can’t live without you”

he pulls back heartbroken, “i can still change this”

through your waning breath, you reach a trembling hand up to cup san’s jaw

“s-san, don’t do it”

he lets out a racking sob as he shakes his head again, expression marred with agony and torment that you can physically feel in his white-knuckled grasp that covers your own hand

the tears that drip off his jaw become lost to the damp ground

san’s voice is broken and pained, “i don’t fucking care. it’s not going to stop me from trying”

he grips your hand even tighter when he starts to feel it fall away from his cheek

it’s becoming tiring to keep your eyes open

maybe you can rest…just for a little bit

san will forgive you, right?

you close your eyes

just for a little while

just until the pain stops

faintly, you think you can feel your body being jostled against something warm

but it’s far away

far away

far

san clutches your limp body as he lets out a primal wail of anguish

you cannot die

you will not die

he snatches the glowing hourglass and flips it with desperation screaming in every cell of his body

and then his world goes white.

mingi

pov: you're the crew's surgeon

you have all the time in the world to yourself

the recent raid was successful - the other vessel had surrendered quickly without putting up a fight and your ship is now well stocked up from the loot of supplies

hongjoong has promised the crew shore leave, a vacation of sorts, and so you and the crew are travelling to port malthov, a haven island for pirates

it’ll take about a week to arrive

and without a foreseeable raid or run-in with enemy vessels, there is no need for your medical duties

which is a good thing, really

but it also means that you have a lot of time

and time is your worst enemy

time is time alone with your own thoughts, time alone with your internal demons, and right now, your mind is a sinkhole of them and you are the very thing being pulled into its depths

you’re sprawled out on the upper deck, arms and legs splayed like a physical manifestation of your efforts to reach the edges of the sinkhole and hold on

you think to yourself that it’s reassuring when you can see blood

because it’s visible, physical, and you can fix it

step one, rinse the area with clean water

step two, disinfect the wound

step three, remove any foreign objects or dead skin

step four, suture as required for nastier injuries

step five, wrap a clean cloth over, under, over, under, then fasten

there’s a procedure and it makes sense

but when it’s invisible, what do you do?

there are no medical diagrams, procedures or journals that teach you how to heal your own hurt

you may be the crew’s surgeon, but you wonder how qualified you truly are if you can’t even fix yourself

the skies are clear today and the sun shines down directly on your exposed skin

it’s uncomfortable but you don’t move, limbs feeling just a little too strung tight to cooperate

you don’t think you have the energy to do much more than to just lie there and exist

and the burn of the sunlight is kind of nice

it tells you that you’re still alive - even if the feeling of living is pain

that’s where mingi finds you twenty minutes later, his face upside down as he leans over to look at your face-

only to very nearly drop a block of wood right onto you

“oh, shit,” he fumbles as the multitude of items he is carrying to his chest falls and clatters onto the deck around your head

you jolt up to save yourself from a bruised forehead and eye him, curiosity well and truly piqued

with a huff, he piles everything in front of you, followed by himself as he sits cross-legged in front of you

he looks suspiciously hopeful and expectant

“can you carve me another dolphin?”

months ago, you had tried carving ornamental animals out of small scraps of wood left over from a hull repair

most of your carvings had turned out hideous and you had tossed them overboard, but mingi had not stopped following you and begging until you gave him one

you could barely even call it a dolphin, but for some reason, he has kept it since like it’s something valuable

“i already made you one,” you start

but he protests, “i lost him!”

you blink

nevermind. maybe not so valuable

“...you lost it?”

you’re not sure whether you’re disappointed or relieved that it’s forever gone to the void

“i lost him, yes. so can you please carve me a new one?”

you blink once more and he looks back at you with wide, pleading eyes

“fine, pass me the knife,” you finally relent

he grins, handing something that feels quite familiar into your outstretched hand

“are these my scalpels?!” you clutch them defensively to your chest. “mingi, i am not carving wood with these”

mingi breaks out into pleased laughter, crescent eyes and gaping mouth as he produces a pocket knife that you can actually use

“you’re ridiculous,” you tell him, setting your medical instruments safely to one side, but you don’t really mean it

you bring the blade of the pocket knife to the edge of the wood and start whittling away

you expect mingi to get up and leave you to your devices, except he doesn’t

he stays and asks you question after question about the carving

which part are you working on now?

how do you shape the tail?

what was the first thing you tried to carve?

if you could carve something else after this, what would it be?

and it goes on for hours - as the wood gradually takes shape of the animal, as the harsh sun lowers and is replaced by the cool breeze of evening

…as mingi fills up your sinkhole and you are no longer grasping at the edges to stay afloat

it happens without you even realising, but he lets you take refuge in him from your own thoughts

and later that night, when the crew are preparing to sleep for the night, mingi will place the newly-carved dolphin at the head of his hammock

he will itch to rummage through the small chest that holds his personal belongings and treasures

he will want to unwrap the small object he has hidden away at the very bottom of his chest and put it side by side with the dolphin

but he won’t, because otherwise you’ll see the two dolphins and realise that he was lying about having lost the first one, so he’ll opt to keep it hidden

mingi thinks that he might even ask you to carve him something else tomorrow

he’ll say that his dolphin needs somebody by its side

what he won’t say though, is that he knows you need somebody by your side

and if he can offer you a few hours of mindlessness while you carve with him beside you, then he’ll ask you to make him a whole aquarium of animals

but that’s tomorrow

for now, he lets you rest on him, and you find that it doesn’t seem quite as hard to exist anymore

because sometimes, even surgeons need their own healers

you don’t have another bad day that week

technically, they’re all still bad days, but they aren’t as bad

but as it is with your luck, it all comes back to drag you underwater when the arriba pulls into port malthov and lowers its anchor

of all days, your head feels foggy, your body feels empty and your lungs feel laboured

you’re not even sad

you’re just…hollow

and the worst part is that you have absolutely no reason to be feeling this way

being up in the crow’s nest for once has given you the perfect vantage point to watch as the majority of the crew precariously run off the gangplank with whoops and hollers, splitting off to explore the town

their excitement is infectious - to everybody but you

instead, you had offered to take over yeosang’s lookout duties so that he could go to the town’s tavern

you’ve already rotted the morning and most of the afternoon away and your stomach grumbles in protest at having skipped both meals

it knows that you probably won’t be eating dinner either

“y/n,” a voice calls out to you from the deck, “are you not going into town?”

you peer over the edge of the nest and find mingi’s small form, his head craned upwards in your direction

“lookout duties,” you simply say

but mingi calls your bluff

“the whole point of shore leave is that we all get time off. captain’s still on board to make sure our ship doesn’t catch on fire or some shit, don’t worry”

when you still don’t make a move, mingi starts to climb up the rigging and you startle to your feet

“heavens, okay, i’m coming down”

he’s banned from rigging duties for a reason

when you land on the upper deck, he looks awfully smug with himself

he asks, “can we go eat seafood? not fish, but like the good stuff”

“since when did you like seafood?”

“always?”

mingi did not always like seafood but you let it slide

he guides you across the gangplank and towards the bustling streets of the town, keeping you tucked closely into his side

almost like he knows you’re feeling more fragile than usual

you two come across a market and he tells you to find a table in the outdoor seating area

when he returns to you after a while, both his hands are stacked with platters of shrimp, some crabs and even a lobster

“mingi, what-?” you break out into an astounded laugh

you can’t even find it in yourself to finish your sentence because it looks like he’s bought enough food to feed half your crew

he sets the plates down in front of you, one by one, until you can barely see the table itself

and you watch, still incredulous, as he picks up a steamed shrimp, meticulously peeling off the shells that he discards onto his plate

…before placing the peeled shrimp onto the plate in front of you

“eat,” he encourages

mingi picks up another shrimp to peel, looking away from you so as not to pressure you

but he can’t help but look and smile widely when you do eventually bring the food up to your mouth and take a bite

it tastes good

shrimp has always been one of the things you miss the most when you’re sailing and as the salty taste of the ocean spreads across your tongue, you start to feel your appetite returning

by the time you’ve swallowed, there’s already another shrimp on your plate, peeled and ready for eating

mingi smiles knowingly when you groan around your next bite

the sun may have already started to disappear into the horizon, but right now with mingi’s plate piling up with discarded shells and yours with juicy shrimp meat, the hollow cavity in your chest slowly filling with warmth, the sun is only just starting to rise for you

and mingi will keep filling your plate until your sun has fully risen into the sky

because sometimes, healing needs the help of an extra pair of hands

the day before your crew is scheduled to leave port malthov, you find yourself sitting on the sandy shores of the coastline, far away from where the arriba is docked

the wind tugs at your hair and the hems of your clothing in the direction of the ocean

you wonder what it would be like to just let yourself go and float along with the wind

your thoughts are interrupted by the soft squeaks of bare feet in the sand approaching you and mingi lowers himself down to sit by your side

no matter where you hide, he somehow always finds you

you give him a small smile when he calls your name in greeting, but it’s all you can really manage to do

it’s hard for you to talk today

but he already knows that

“can i tell you a story?” mingi isn’t really asking you

without waiting for a response he knows you can’t give, he starts to talk

“i don’t think i’ve told you about the time when yunho and i went skinny-dipping at night. i swear we saw the kraken that night”

he has told you this story before

more times than you can count on your fingers and toes combined - to the point where you have some of his exact phrases and expressions memorised

mingi knows he’s told you this story before

but he drones on anyway, adding his usual touches of dramatic flair and exaggerated details - words that he hopes keep you grounded to the spot so that you don’t disappear with the wind

(“did you know that yunho’s chest goes red when he screams in fright?”)

you want to make silly little comments about his silly little story

you want to laugh in harmony with mingi’s own rumbling sounds

except you can’t

it’s like whatever you want to say goes through a paper shredder right before it comes out of your mouth

and mingi knows

but he is willing to take all the time in the world to tape your words back together, shredded piece by shredded piece, until he can make you feel heard and seen

and even if you don’t talk, he is there to do enough talking for the both of you

some things don’t need to be said - he understands either way

because sometimes, healing looks like walking backwards on any progress that’s been made and that’s okay

after all…mingi’s been there before, too

the arriba sets sail again and hongjoong allows the crew one last night of rest before your usual duties resume

the stock of fresh produce and meat won’t last for longer than a couple of days anyway, so you all feast your stomach’s fill of food and alcohol

someone brings out an accordion and you all gather together on the upper deck as jongho sings to the music, background filled with the lively rattling of shared plates and mugs being passed around

the air is chilly but it’s crisp and fresh whenever you take a breath of it into your lungs

where being with the multitude of your crew usually makes you feel lonely, tonight, it feels okay

and from beside you, mingi sings along quietly to the music

his voice is not like jongho’s, which is soulful, emotional and powerful

mingi’s voice is deep, honest and raw as he sings the lyrics to the song of a man who is drowning and yearning to be saved

he looks at you during the last bridge, when the key changes from sorrowful to hopeful and the words tell of a man who is saved by his lover

you smile back at him, genuinely content in this moment

and even if it is only briefly, even if you will still have bad days in the future, you think that today is a good day

because healing takes form in all different ways, and being loved is one of them

maybe one day, mingi will be able to confess that he loves you

when he’s confident that you’ll be able to accept his love

not in the way where he expects you to reciprocate the same feelings for him, no

but in the way where you are able to accept the fact that you are worthy of being loved

there are no medical diagrams, procedures or journals that teach you how to heal your own hurt

but you have mingi and he is making one for you

it’s written with the ink of love on the very pages of his own heart and he will not stop writing until the day you are well and truly happy

and even if it takes forever?

well

mingi’s got a huge fucking heart

and it’s all yours

wooyoung

pov: you find a stowaway on your ship

“we’re headed off course again”

“again?” you look at your helmsman with furrowed brows

yunho nods, sighing out his next words, “i can’t get a read on north. the needle keeps flickering”

you look at the compass that’s mounted at the helm and true to his words, the tip of the arrow seesaws back and forth over the cardinal point

a quick glance down tells you that the newer compass you’ve got in your pocket is also behaving in the same manner, needle twitching despite the practised steadiness of your hands

so you know for sure that it’s not a fault in the instrument at the helm itself

but even if it were to be faulty, you would never replace it

not when it’s one of the only things you have remaining of your parents after they perished at sea

“maybe we should ask him,” yunho suggests, beckoning his head towards the deck

although seonghwa hums thoughtfully, having joined you both at the helm mid-conversation, you look at him incredulously

“you trust that person?”

yunho shrugs, “it’s not like he’s given us a reason to not trust him”

well

considering said man had been found stowing away in the cargo five days after your ship had left alcarres, who then also tried to plead for mercy by reasoning that he was ‘valuable’, you think that there’s plenty of reasons to not trust him

yunho rectifies his argument once he sees the pinched expression on your face, “as in, since we’ve found him on board”

you close your eyes and exhale

admittedly, yunho has a point

and there’s been one too many times where the man has flippantly suggested navigational changes or casually observed shifts in the winds and waters - which all turned out to be accurate - for it to be sheer luck

you open your eyes and call out to the upper deck

“stowaway”

yunho winces as seonghwa chides you with a slight elbow to your side at your choice of name, or lack thereof

said man looks at you from where he’s helping san and yeosang swab the deck, mouth tightening with wariness

the last time you had spoken the same word, it was along with an order to throw him into the brig with his wrists bound behind his back

but considering that that was the extent of his punishment for stowing away on your ship and he is now mingling amongst your crew with minimal security measures on your orders too, really, he’s gotten off scot-free

the stowaway approaches the quarterdeck with hesitant steps

you jerk your head towards the helm, “help yunho navigate the rest of the way to vlasgar. just until we can dock and work out what’s wrong with the compasses''

despite the curtness of your order, his face scrunches up into an enthusiastic grin

“of course, captain!”

you’re taken aback by his demeanour because you’re trying to find a reason to distrust him

but he’s not giving it to you

you watch as the stowaway makes himself comfortable against the helm rails and easily slips into conversation and banter with yunho amidst intermittent pointers to adjust the rudder

seonghwa nudges you from behind, “give him a little credit”

you scratch your neck awkwardly before calling out to your helmsman

“keep me updated on the ship’s course”

yunho nods and then you clear your throat, quickly glancing at the stowaway

“and thanks…wooyoung.”

you turn and leave the quarterdeck before you can fully catch a glimpse of the delighted smile the man beams at you

because if he’s not giving you reasons to dislike him, then you’re going to ensure he doesn’t start giving you reasons to like him

except…wooyoung attacks when you least expect it

it’s the night before your crew reaches vlasgar, and true to his claims when he was first discovered onboard, wooyoung has proven his value by navigating your ship through the waters without the aid of the malfunctioning compass

his innate sense for shifts in the wind and waters, combined with his understanding of celestial navigation and use of dead reckoning has meant that he is extraordinarily precise with his route

honestly, he’s freakishly accurate to the point where it’s a little unsettling

at least that’s what you tell yourself

you and hongjoong have given the crew the night off from their usual duties in preparation for a few busy days of maintenance and intel-gathering once your ship docks at vlasgar

wooyoung offers to cook in the galley and whip up a meal as fancy as he can from the select ingredients on board

you don’t have a good reason to deny him, not when the rest of your crew looks at you with eager faces at the thought of a meal that isn’t just the usual salted meat, so you send mingi along to help him locate the ingredients

also to keep an eye on wooyoung to ensure he isn’t using this as an opportunity to poison your crew, but you’re not about to admit that aloud

and that’s exactly when wooyoung chooses to attack

he attacks your heart with his cooking

granted, the standards are rock bottom, but wooyoung utilises a deadly combination of rosemary, thyme and bay leaves to prepare a hearty broth with preserved beef

he serves hardtack on the side to be softened and eaten with the broth, and jongho even manages to catch a few fish that wooyoung then scores and grills with lemon slices over the fire

mingi must also be in good spirits because he takes out the reserve of dried fruits and nuts that he’s usually pedantic over and allows wooyoung to arrange them artfully in a wooden bowl as nibblers to go with the profusion of rum that will inevitably be downed tonight

the impressive spread of food is placed on the upper deck where the entire crew sit in a rough circle together

you take one bite into the beef and curse without realising

“fucking hell, what did he put in this?”

wooyoung freezes mid-spoonful across from you in the circle

realising your words sound petrifying without context, you awkwardly amend them with your eyes glued to your bowl, “i could eat this every day,” before shoving another spoon of broth into your mouth to shut yourself up

there’s a chorus of teasing oooh’s at your words and somebody sing-songs, “captain likes youuu-r cooking”

“i don’t,” you scoff, completely ready to bite the bait and engage in this childish argument

but it’s him who comes to your defence

“it’s not my cooking, it’s just the spices that make a difference,” wooyoung insists

then he’s gesturing to the grilled fish and telling everyone to try, diverting the attention away from you

you accidentally make eye contact with him and initially flicker your eyes away out of embarrassment, but when you chance a peek back at him he’s still looking at you, his expression uncharacteristically calm and gentle when usually all you can hear these days is his raucous laughter bouncing across the deck

…not that you can recognise his laughter or anything

you stare at each other for a few more seconds before you lift up your bowl of beef broth and give him a little smile

you leave it up to him to interpret it however he wants

and just before you look away, you see the apples of his cheeks rounding with elation

wooyoung’s potentially earned himself a few points with his cooking (and perhaps with his unfailing happiness too), but maybe you’re just looking for excuses as to why you’re allowed to like him now

when you decide to take a walk in town long after midnight, your quarters having felt stuffy ever since you’d docked at vlasgar, you’re surprised to find that you’re not the only one still awake

“i’m going out for some air and maybe a drink, did you want to come?”

hongjoong shakes his head, “hwa’s gone out too, i’ll stay behind”

you pause, wondering whether it’d be rude if you didn’t extend the invitation to wooyoung, considering he’s literally two feet away

“what about you?” you end up offering

wooyoung excitedly hops up to his feet, “yeah, i’ll come with”

to your own surprise, you find that you’re not particularly disappointed by his response

the streets of vlasgar are empty, considering the late hour, and your leather shoes clack in unison against the cobblestones as you walk together

you’re not really sure what to say to fill the silence but wooyoung easily talks about anything and everything and you’re content to just listen

your feet eventually take you towards a small alehouse and you both settle down at one of the tables further away from the live music playing

the oil lamps flicker dimly along the wall, casting small dancing shadows on the surface of your mugs of ale

“my father never liked the taste of ale,” wooyoung suddenly muses after a swallow

you note the use of past tense

“is he…still around?” you ask tentatively

he makes a noise of refutation, the quietest he’s been tonight, before he reveals, “he took his own life”

“oh, wooyoung,” you breathe out

he curls his hands around his mug, “it’s already been two years, but it still hurts”

in a moment of empathy, you gently place your hand over his

your tone is bitter when you reply, “time doesn’t mean that it hurts any less, it just gets easier to pretend that it doesn’t”

he looks up at you, surprised by the touch of your hand but also by the sorrow reflected in your eyes

“have you also lost somebody?”

you nod at his question

“my parents,” you hesitate before adding, “their ship got swept under a rogue wave, the same night it turned into a tidal wave that destroyed the city of light”

wooyoung looks at you with wide eyes, “the one along the north coast? six- no, seven years ago?”

there’s not a single person who doesn’t know about it; when an apocalyptic wave had wiped out an entire city overnight

he places his other hand over yours when you nod again, creating a sandwich of comforting hands in the shared experience of loss and grief

you smile wistfully and he returns it

“well now that we’ve exchanged childhood trauma, care to tell me the real reason why you were on my ship, stowaway?” you half-joke

wooyoung laughs, each breath a pronounced cackle of joy, and you find the corners of your lips pulling themselves upwards too

“i’m being chased by a lunatic who’s out for my blood,” he deadpans

“that would have been nice to know before i let you join my crew”

wooyoung grins wickedly, “i’m part of your crew?”

“i’m definitely rethinking it,” you banter before you add on seriously, “only if you want to be”

he pulls his hands back to salute you loudly, “it would be my honour to be your human compass! jung wooyoung at your crew’s service!”

“shut the fuck up!” you hiss in embarrassment, but there’s no bite to your words and you’re laughing into your own hands

you tip back the remains of your ale and then beckon to wooyoung, “let’s head back, shall we?”

“yeah,” he gives you a dazzling smile

he pushes his chair back to stand up and you head towards the doors together

just as you walk past one of the tables, a man abruptly stands up and knocks into wooyoung’s shoulder harshly

your hand flies out to steady him as the man stares at wooyoung, then turns to leave without another word

“what’s his problem,” you mutter angrily. “are you okay?”

wooyoung reassures you with a placating squeeze to your arm before leading you out of the alehouse

as you retrace your steps back to the ship, you pass by a rickety stall that makes you falter

the wood of the table is rotting and standing on its last legs and there’s a roughly thatched roof propped up above its goods

even though the stall is enshrouded by the shadows of the clouded moonlight, you still wonder how you missed it on your way to the alehouse, considering it’s the only stall along the empty street, and with a vendor, no less

there’s an old woman bearing the burdens of living across her skin and in her posture, sitting hunched on an equally as weathered crate beside the table

you’re drawn towards it - by its ambience, seller or the familiar instruments lain on the table, you don’t know

the woman’s head is covered by a dusty shawl but you don’t miss the way her eyes bore beadily into wooyoung as you both approach

you reach out and skim your fingertips across the cool brass of the compasses on the table

a frown adorns your face when you notice there’s something strange about all of them

like the compass in your own pocket and the one mounted on your ship’s helm, the needles all swing indecisively over the north point, as if some unknown force is meddling with the magnetic field of the earth itself

you let out a little scoff of disbelief, “they’re all useless”

with a final glance at the table, you and wooyoung start to walk off

but then a raspy voice beckons at your backs, a ghost of a hand that tickles the hair on the nape of your necks, “the only time a compass is useless is when you have something better nearby”

unable to ignore the sensation, you look over your shoulder, “what do you mean by something better?”

a toothless smile; one that appears to know a secret that it doesn’t want to let you in on

“true north”

her cryptic answer alone is enough to tell you that you’re wasting your time

she doesn’t say anything else when you walk off for good this time after bidding her a tight-smiled farewell, not that you would have stopped either way if she did

wooyoung hurries to catch up to you

as he falls into step with you, he asks, “do you believe what she’s saying?”

“of course not, it doesn’t make any sense,” you glance at the tavern you’re walking past, telling you that the port is close now. “how can you have true north?”

wooyoung’s brows knit together, “well, there’s that old legend that says true north isn’t actually a direction, but a-”

he’s cut off by an amused voice behind you both

“so it really is you…jung wooyoung”

when you turn around, you’re met with the sight of a man donning a long, velvet coat and buckled shoes - articles of clothing very obviously pirated from the wealthy

it’s evident that he and wooyoung are acquainted in one way or another, but from the way wooyoung’s face loses its colour, they’re acquainted in a bad way

immediately, your hackles are raised

the man’s tone is saccharine as he continues, “when one of my men said that they had spotted you, i didn’t believe him”

“what do you want?” you snarl at the same time wooyoung murmurs next to you, “it’s the lunatic. jang hyunsoo”

hyunsoo cocks his head as he stares you dead in the eye, “i want him. dead.”

your face darkens, unwilling to back down, “and why are you so intent on killing him?”

“oh?” he raises an eyebrow in delight at your answer. “you must not know who he truly is”

sick of his bullshit, you reach down towards your belt to unsheath a throwing dagger and hold it in front of your body, “i don’t care who the fuck he is. he’s my crew member and that’s all that ma-”

“he’s the man that the legends speak of. blessed by the sea gods, bearer of the oceans’ wisdom - jung wooyoung is true north”

those two words again

you don’t understand why everyone you come across today seems to be so fixated on the idea of…

suddenly, you remember.

legends tell a story of true north - not a direction pointing to the earth’s axis, but a person

a man blessed by the gods of the sea with the power to be all-knowing when it comes to the waters

he possesses the innate ability to navigate without use of any instruments or celestial bodies; the wisdom of which passageways and courses to sail; the subconscious understanding of mother nature and her elements

the powers are passed down through his bloodline for generations, but the blessing does not stay sacred for long

human greed and coveting eventually lead to the murder of the bearer of true north at the time, and the powers are transferred to the murderer, permanently staining the bloodline and commencing the paradoxical cycle of sinning for a blessing

however, this does not go unpunished

the gods of the sea are enraged and in their uncontainable wrath they cause-

your memory ends there no matter how hard you try to recall the rest of the legend

wooyoung interrupts

“if you kill me, there’s no guarantee you’ll survive the consequences,” he tries to reason with the other. “just have a look at how close we are to sea”

you’re lost but hyunsoo sneers, “it’s not your power that i’m hungry for. it’s only fair that i spill your blood, after your father spilled the blood of my family”

at the mention of his father, wooyoung growls, “what the fuck do you think you’re saying”

“how do you think your father became true north? or better yet, let me jog your memory,” hyunsoo’s expression becomes hauntingly blank, “what happened seven years ago that wiped out a whole city because the sea gods had been angered?”

your breath hitches as you involuntarily whisper, the remaining piece of the puzzle slotting into memory, “...a tidal wave”

“yes,” he acknowledges your words but keeps his eyes drilling into wooyoung, “because true north - my father - was killed”

as were your parents by extension of the consequences

“killed by my father,” wooyoung concludes, voice frail as everything rapidly starts to reveal itself

one more revelation makes him look at you with a face of horror and remorse, “y/n…your parents…”

without hesitation, you push aside your own anguish for him

“wooyoung,” you warn, “it’s not your fault”

because you see it

the very moment his eyes start clouding over as he willingly takes on the burden of guilt wrongfully left behind by his deceased father - the same guilt that eventually took the man’s own life

wooyoung, who, with a heart and soul too pure, would rather take the blame himself than to push it onto somebody else

you step in front of him, knife raised in protection

because despite your best efforts, wooyoung had not only secretly stowed himself away on your ship but has also secretly stowed himself away in your heart

“what are you doing?” he tries to tug you behind him

there’s a teasing lilt in your voice as you stand steadfast, “stowaway, you’ve ruined navigating for me now - made it too easy for me and the crew. so you better fuckin’ take responsibility and be my compass for as long as i sail”

“how touching,” hyunsoo coos patronisingly before he draws the cutlass from his sheath, “looks like i’ll just have to kill the both of you”

you don’t stop wooyoung this time from stepping up to stand by your side, his own hands armed with dual daggers and his demeanour now iron-willed to fight

because if you’re prepared to fight for him, then wooyoung is prepared to fight twice as hard for you

tonight, either hyunsoo dies, or you both go down trying

the tension in the air is punctuated only by the slight scrape of your soles as you and wooyoung lower your stances and shift further onto your front feet

you had never believed in the sea gods until now, but you pray that they’re watching over you both

and indeed they are

they answer your prayers in the form of a deafening gunshot in the nearby tavern

hyunsoo flinches at the sudden commotion - only slightly, but the distraction in attentiveness is more than enough

now.

as you and wooyoung leap forward together in unison, weapons raised, the needles in your hearts’ compasses waver for one final time before they settle and point resolutely in one direction

your needle at wooyoung; wooyoung’s needle at you

because compasses will always point at true north and that’s exactly what you are to him and him to you

each other’s true north

jongho

pov: you're a mermaid who saves him

you follow the shadow of the ship’s hull, gliding effortlessly through the waters

you know that you shouldn’t be following so closely but it’s hard to refuse the temptation that comes hand in hand with storms

there’s a chance that vessels will toss cargo overboard as a last-ditch effort to save their ship from sinking

and if you’re really lucky, the vessel might sink entirely and you’ll be able to spend the next few days rummaging its ruins, scavenging for shiny treasures and intriguing objects

besides, what’s the worst that could happen?

no sailor or pirate in their right mind would think to cast a fishing net in this weather

you only have your carelessness and recklessness to blame, but regret won’t change anything about your current situation

you feel the strange lurch in your stomach as the fishing net you’re trapped inside is pulled out of the water, up along the side of the ship’s hull, until it levels with the gunwale

there’s someone standing there waiting

his face is still rounded and limbs still gangly with the telltale signs of youth

the fish around you jerk around desperately, a physical manifestation of your terror, while you lock eyes with the young teenager and grip at the net with white-knuckled fists

you are at his complete mercy

he stares in shock at your form, until you beg a single word

“please”

immediately, he draws a small pocket knife and starts to frantically cut through the net

there’s another questioning voice from somewhere on the deck that you can’t make out the words to, but from the way the boy in front of you picks up speed, you’re seconds away from being discovered

“come on, come on, come on,” the boy mutters through gritted teeth

there’s a slight jerk as he cuts through the strands of flax and a few fish slither their way out, the hole starting to become bigger

he lets out a hiss of pain when he accidentally slices through his own hand in his haste

but even then, he does not stop or falter

and then you hear it

the ripping of the material when the weight of yourself and the other fish tear the remainder of the net

you plummet into the ocean

and the last thing you see before the world above becomes blurred by the waters is the boy’s wide eyes peering over the ship’s edge as he watches you fall

jongho struggles to adjust his centre of gravity as the ropes stutter underneath him

he chances letting go of the rigging briefly with one hand so that he can wipe the rain out of his eyes, which is pouring down incessantly and obscuring his vision

overhead, the top sail continues to billow and flap in an angry dance as the rapidly shifting winds tangle it further

he swallows thickly and grips the rigging once again

he needs to climb up and untangle the damned sail, fast

one hand extending outwards to grab the running rigging, jongho supports himself on shaky legs so that he can unfurl the twisted edges of the sail from around the ropes

it’s difficult enough having to chase the mocking flits of the canvas in the gale, but it’s fucking hellish with the added lurching and pitching of the ship as it’s battered by the swells of the sea

he finally manages to get a good grip on the sail and tugs hard, feeling it give way and flush full as it catches the wind properly now that it’s free

except the force of it sends the material swelling right in his face and he slips

by some saving grace, the combined movement of another colossal wave sends his body careening through the air in a wide arch

he does not land on the upper deck in a heap of broken bones

instead, he plummets into the ocean

and the last thing jongho sees before he loses consciousness is the shimmer and flick of a tail

your body reacts instantaneously to the sudden intrusion of something plunging into the waters in front of you, your tail swishing to increase your distance

for a brief second your heart seizes up in fright at the thought of a harpoon

but then you see it - see him

apart from the young teen who had freed you years ago, you have never seen a human up close before

and certainly not one in the ocean; in your home

there is something about the man before you that is beautiful yet haunting

it is as if time and gravity have warped his very existence

you see a weak flail of legs, a desperate hand reaching for the surface, floating tendrils of hair, but even in the face of approaching death, his movements appear slow and graceful in the water

as the pockets of air and bubbles of foam dissipate from around him and cruelly escape upwards without him, the man stills - grand and slow as his form steadily starts to make a descent towards the sandy bottom of the ocean

in folklore amongst your merpeople, humans are as swift, sure and savage on land as they are aboard their monstrous vessels

and yet, watching the ethereal existence of this man before you, you realise that once humans are underwater, they are at the complete mercy of mother nature and her beings

you gingerly swim closer

when you wrap your arm around the man’s limp body, his skin is warm under your fingertips

you’re reminded of the fact that he is at your complete mercy

and so you swim.

the moment jongho regains consciousness, his chest involuntarily contracts in an attempt to take a huge, stuttering breath

he curls onto his side instead, one hand scrabbling in the wet sand and his other arm crushed between the ground and his upper body as he hacks up his lungs with retching motions

the salt water burns even more coming back up than it did going down and his eyes sting with tears

when the convulsions cease, jongho closes his eyes and rests his forehead against the cool sand, trying to regain his breath-

and bearings

the jarring clarity has him sitting up abruptly as he tries to recall where he is and what he’s doing

there was the storm

the tangled sail

him climbing up the riggings

falling down, down, down

and then…

you

your eyes widen when the man’s unfocused gaze suddenly sweeps the waters and lands on the small part of your face that is exposed and peering at him

instinctively, you duck underwater, the notion of hiding your existence from humans ingrained into you

but even though he only sees a glimpse of you, jongho would recognise you from anywhere

it’s hard to forget when he’s kept his eyes peeled on the waters since that day, hoping to see you once again

he can’t believe that the mermaid he once saved would end up being his saviour

but he guesses that’s what people call fate - an alignment of miracles

he glances around at his surroundings to find himself in the safety of a small cove

you dare to emerge your curious eyes again when you see the form of the man stand up with his gaze on the sand, seemingly in search of something

he fumbles along the edge of the coast, reaching down several times to grasp things too small for you to discern

it seems that he becomes satisfied with what he has found, because he then sets them all down in the wet sand - right where the tide kisses the shore in a teasing game of chase - and takes several steps backwards so that he is no longer close to the waters

the man scratches the back of his head as he gestures vaguely to the pile, appearing to want to say something before thinking better of it and turning around to pick at the driftwood further inland

you wait, trying to gauge his actions

but when it becomes clear to you that he is not attempting to catch you off guard, you cautiously swim closer to shore

you are able to rest your forearms comfortably on the shoreline’s sand from how close you get

and then you see it

a small pile of glossy pebbles and patterned shells

a peace offering of pretty things he could find that he thought you might like

you duck under the water again, but this time to hide your shy smile as opposed to an act of instinctual self-preservation

jongho looks at the hefty pile of dried wood that he has gathered in the meantime, deeming it enough to keep a fire going for the inevitable night he will have to spend at the cove

he’s tried his hardest not to look out to the waters, wanting to gain your trust

but he can’t help it this time when his eyes are drawn to the little mound of his sincerity in the sand

…only to find it untouched, and you nowhere to be seen

he tries not to feel disappointed

after all, you have no reason to trust him

so he sets his mind on starting a fire before the sun sets completely instead, trying to ignore the growing dryness in his throat

when he finally nurses a spark into a flame an hour later, jongho almost misses it in his fatigued state

but it’s unmistakable when he walks closer

gone is his own pile of pebbles and shells

in its stead is a jumbled collection of broken combs, rusted locks and a glass bottle

a peace offering of peculiar things you had found that you thought he might need

jongho doesn’t know it, but as he bends down to carefully gather every gift and safekeep them closer to his fire, he is not the only one with a bashful smile on his face

you tell yourself it’s purely curiosity and displaced familiarity that makes you linger and return to the cove the very next morning

you’re well aware what the risks are if you fall in love with a human

how many stories have you heard of mermaids and mermen alike, falling for a human, only for their love to be unilateral or rejected?

their tails slowly lose their lustre as gradual paralysis takes over until they lose complete control

quite literally drowning within their own body, they eventually sink to the bottom of the ocean to perish with the decaying wreckages of sunken ships…

and the countless corpses of sailors, pirates and other unfortunate souls alike

it’s ironic

no matter how much folklore makes out humans and merpeople to be different, you all end up the same in the face of death; buried in the soil of the earth or buried in the sand of the ocean bottom

side by side

jongho stands in that very ocean right now, sleeves and pants rolled up to keep them as dry as possible as he crouches over with the water up to his thighs

he would try to fashion a fishing hook or harpoon of some sort, but with the possibility that you may be close by in the waters, he doesn’t want to risk using anything that could hurt you

so he resorts to using his bare hands

you’ve been watching from the safety of the water for well over half an hour now, curious and slightly endeared by his clumsy attempts to grab at something

you’re not sure what, but you can see the fish as they dart teasingly through his legs and from out of his reach

for beings that are supposedly apex predators, this human doesn’t seem intimidating at all

so, very cautiously, you swim up closer to him

jongho feels himself freezing at the sight of you approaching - not because he’s afraid of you, but because he’s afraid he’ll scare you away

he holds his breath as you hesitate and linger just out of his reach, then swim up and bump his leg playfully with your tail as you circle around him once

he’s reminded of a puppy wanting to sniff out somebody unfamiliar and his eyes follow your form with rounded fondness

“hi,” he breathes out softly, “i’m jongho”

your tail swishes with sudden movement, splashing him with water and he giggles

you can hear it clearly even from under water and your heart nearly stops

if this man - if jongho - was a siren, the sounds of his happiness would be his song of calling

you want to hear it again

jongho sucks in a breath when you dare to emerge from the water’s surface, presenting him with a fish held carefully between your lips and one more in each of your hands

he’s a little dumbfounded at how easily you managed to catch them as he gently takes the one from in between your teeth

the still-flailing fish in his hands is peppered with two tiny neat rows of puncture holes where you had carefully bitten into it

he finds it so fucking cute, especially when you continue to peer up at him with expectant eyes, wanting to know if it was the fish that he was trying to catch this whole time

he wants to thank you, and not just for the fish

so he fumbles through his words when he asks, “would you like to eat with me? unless…” he trails off, “unless you don’t eat fish because…”

are mermaids technically fish?

did he really just offer you the mermaid equivalent of human flesh to eat?

before jongho can panic and try to salvage the situation, you give him a shy smile and nod

jongho makes a fire as close to the shore as possible without the wood at risk of becoming wet

as he spears the fish onto sticks so that he can hold them over the flames, you gather the courage to slide out of the shallow waters so that you can lay on the damp sand closer to him

whilst you can for short periods, you rarely ever fully emerge out of the waters because you leave yourself vulnerable without the full mobility of your body

but jongho makes you feel safe enough to do so

and he must at least partially recognise the amount of trust you are placing in him because he looks at you in awe, the unveiled beauty of your tail now in full display

your scales are a kaleidoscope of cerulean, mauve and periwinkle, reflecting onto the sand below you in a magical dance with each of your slight movements

he notices that the gradient peters out into shades of salmon and coral the closer the scales are to your waist and he cannot tear his eyes away from you

jongho thinks to himself that you were created by the hands of the sea god, who then named the word beautiful after you

and even then, the word does not seem to do you justice

“why are you staring?”

your voice is simultaneously bashful and teasing, yet jongho is utterly mortified that your first words to him are ones exposing his smitten behaviour

his brain kickstarts in panic and he blurts out the first thing that comes to mind

“if your tail gets too close to fire, will you start smelling like grilled fish?”

for a split second, your expression contorts into one of pure horror, before the absurdity of his question breaks down the remainder of your reservations and you lose yourself in laughter

a pretty blush settles over the round of jongho’s cheeks and then he is also laughing with you

together, where the land and sea unite, the sounds of your shared happiness fill the air

his song of calling chimes melodiously in your heart even as you swim away for the night

but the dangerous thing about a siren’s song is that you don’t realise you’ve become captivated…

until it’s too late

you’re looking down at the object in your hands as you swim for the cove

it’s cream-coloured and smooth to touch, with several blunt tips extending from one side

you’ve always wondered what it is and so you decide to see if jongho will know

you don’t notice the large rock formation jutting out of the seabed until it’s almost right in front of you and at the last second, you flex your tail to manoeuvre yourself around it

except you must miscalculate your distance because you end up grazing yourself on the sharp edges of the rock

it doesn’t puncture your scales but it certainly catches you off guard - your organs and senses work in a way that ensures you never collide into anything so long as you are underwater

so then, why?

you look down and your heart drops

tentatively, you spin around once, eyes never leaving their focus

you realise it’s not a trick of the lighting or the water

your scales have started to lose their shimmer

jongho is beginning to think that you won’t show up today when you finally do, one of your treasures cradled in your hands and a smile on your face that doesn’t quite reach your eyes

(you weren’t going to show up, not after realising that you need to stop yourself from falling further in love with jongho if you want to live, but you decide to be selfish one last time and say goodbye, even if you’re the only one who knows it’s a goodbye)

“what’s that?” he gestures towards your hands with his chin as you slide your upper body out of the shallow waters, leaving your tail to be submerged when the waves come in

you uncurl your fingers with a shrug

“it’s a comb,” he answers his own question as he turns it over in his hand, “made out of animal bone, i think”

you look at him curiously as he sits down, unbothered about wetting his clothes, and you ask, “what’s a comb?”

jongho brings it up to his head and pretends to move it up and down

“you run it through your hair to untangle it”

he pauses as his eyes flicker to your hair then back to your face

“i can…show you how to use it…if you want?” he offers

just once, you’ll allow yourself to get close to him just this once

when you nod and sit up, jongho shifts himself so that he is behind you

you try not to shiver when you feel the heat of his chest enveloping your back as he reaches forward to gently gather the hair from around your face and neck

he steadies your head with one of his hands, the other bringing the teeth of the comb through the slight waves of your hair

his touch is soft and loving in the way he tries not to tug too hard when he encounters a knot

his fingertips skim against you intimately but with an innocence that betrays the fact that he has never brushed somebody’s hair before

you feel your shoulders relaxing into his touch and your eyes close, blissfully - and perhaps deliberately - ignorant to the fading radiance of your body

“are you feeling okay?” jongho’s voice sounds even more alluring when it’s right next to your ear and you can’t help but shudder this time. “you seem paler than usual”

he brings a hand down to your waist and turns you towards him so that he can see you better

you try to formulate an answer, “i…”

i think i’m in love with you

of course, you would never tell him that

but before you can tell him that you’re fine, you become distracted by the glimpse of something on his hand that’s still resting on your waist

a scar

“is that- how did you get this?”

you run your thumb lightly over the taut, white line that runs from his wrist to the knuckle of his index finger

as you’re suddenly reminded of the familiar memory of a teenager with rounded cheeks and gangly limbs, the man beside you with those very same eyes looks at you fondly

“i cut myself trying to free a mermaid from a fishing net”

your gaze is unfocused as you process the information

the effects of the shattering revelation are immediate and a terrifying numbness starts to creep up your tail

because what you didn’t know - what nobody in folklore knew - was that the effects of paralysis and onset of death are accelerated when you fall in love with someone again for the second time

years ago, your heart had been claimed by the young man who had freed you at his own expense

you had managed to survive the heartbreak due to the briefness of your encounter, your paralysis fading and tail regaining its beauty when you never saw him again

but the effects of your unilateral love have not vanished entirely as you and your merpeople have believed it to

they have simply lay dormant like a disease, waiting for the right time to resurface when your feelings are rekindled

and so now it snowballs and gains traction at a speed that cannot be stopped, racing to catch up on the numerous years that you have cheated death where you thought you did not love jongho

“why is your tail turning grey?” the voice of the man you love is pinched with muted panic

you never thought you would ever be afraid of your own tail; your own body

yet, when you look down to see the monochrome advancing up each layer of your scales, you are absolutely petrified

your tail is starting to look like a stone statue and you know it won’t be long until that’s exactly what you become - motionless and unmoving

“y/n! why is your tail grey?!” jongho repeats with a shout, in full blown panic due to your lack of response

you can’t- won’t die in front of him

your lower body is almost deadweight with immobility and you bite back tears as you’re forced to crawl pathetically towards the water with your arms

jongho scrabbles to his feet as he hovers next to you, hands wanting to help but not quite touching you because he’s not sure what’s happening and he doesn’t know what he can do for you and you look like you’re in pain but he doesn’t know why-

“don’t!” you bark out sharply

he freezes in shock

you’re frightened and angry and you want to yell at something, someone, but…

you could never yell at jongho

with a much softer, albeit shaky voice, you tell him, “don’t look for me”

and before you can hear the pained noise that escapes jongho’s lips, you drag yourself back into the water

except a few metres after you’ve submerge yourself, the unthinkable happens

you. cannot. breathe.

you’re drowning.

jongho doesn’t care if you’ll hate him forever, doesn’t care if this is the last time you’ll choose to see him, but he will not just stand and watch when it looks like you are leaving to die alone

his body moves with the decisions of his heart before his mind tells him otherwise

he dives into the water after you

the world distorts around him; a moment of weightlessness as the waters easily shift to accommodate his body; the bubbling sound of air pockets reverberating inside his very skull; the shock of cold that overrides every other bodily sense

jongho forces his eyes open with numerous blinks until he can see you

your form is eerily still, and yet, you remain bewitching

he kicks his legs desperately with one arm outstretched and as soon as you are within reach, he tugs you into his chest

you’re limp to touch, lips slack and parted as if the very essence of your soul is escaping through your mouth

jongho will not let you die

lungs starting to burn and heartbeat pounding in his ears, he presses his lips against yours

a kiss of life-

he closes his eyes

-and love

but you don’t respond

jongho ignores his instincts even as his body screams to part from you and kick upwards for a breath

instead, he moves his jaws to kiss you even harder

and then he feels it

he almost sobs into you when your lips twitch weakly against his

with renewed vigour, you’re sealing your mouth around his bottom lip as you respond, capturing him in a real kiss

below your joined lips, your scales start to bloom with their full brilliance once again

your tail shimmers brighter than before, reflecting intricate patterns of fractals with each slight ripple of the water as you open your eyes to the sight of jongho’s face, beautifully swathed in the incandescence of the rainbow

you can move again

you flick your tail, jongho’s arms still firmly around your waist and you both burst upwards, breaking the water’s surface with spluttering breaths

he desperately treads you both backwards towards the shore even though you can easily hold your own now

“jongho, you-”

he takes one look at you before he cuts your words off and plunges himself back underwater, stunning you into stupor, until he re-emerges with another splutter

“your tail!” he yells with overwhelming relief, face still scrunched as he tries to sweep his fringe up and wipe the water from out of his eyes

“yeah…” voice muted as you process the fact that you’re still alive, “my tail…”

“fuck, you scared me”

jongho’s eyes are bloodshot as they stare into yours, and you know for a fact that they aren’t just red from the irritation of salt water

you bring up a hand to rest it on his chest, right where his heart still thumps rapidly under your touch, and you apologise with a small smile, “sorry…i scared me, too”

he huffs a little before looking at you earnestly

“don’t ever do that again”

the water is now shallow enough that jongho can stand, but it’s deep enough that you can still drift effortlessly

it’s the perfect harmony where land and sea unite; where a human and a mermaid interact

where you, the enchanter, and jongho, the enchanted, find a balance of love

“i won’t,” you promise

on land, humans tell a story of a mermaid who falls in love with a man

a mermaid who is ready to give up her voice in exchange for her happily ever after

but in the sea, merpeople tell a story of a man who falls in love with a mermaid

a man who is ready to give up his life in exchange for his happily ever after

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miyaz6ki · 8 months ago

Note

any idea if kinich is the typa guy to be into rope play? specifically the ‘rope’ he uses during his skill. i like to headcanon that he wraps it around your thigh and pulls it tight to create that dip effect (and he gets super turned on by it). especially when he uses the rope for keeping your legs up while he pounds into you. he lowk nasty frfr.

love your work btw, you’re making me fall deeper for this man.

nsfw content ahead. wc: 300 ish

I can honestly see it. especially when ur being bratty n he doesn't wanna deal w ur behavior.. just cuz you need him so bad in public doesn't mean he can fuck u right then n there!

oh, but he sure wishes he could. Let everyone else watch who owns you.. unfortunately, there are laws against that.

i'm sure he'd like to tie your ankles up and hang them up your head so he can penetrate your wet cunt easier as if the lube wasn't enough!!

he loves watching how you react after being a bad girl the whole day just for you to be tied up by his ropes, it was only you to blame for this anyway! shouldn't have misbehaved.

he loves to finger you while your legs are still in the air. i can't add onto this one because he would. and his head is just on your chest while he watches you with those eyes- ohhh his eyes.. you could feel embarrassed but wanting more the more his fingers curled inside you. such a pretty blush scattered his cheeks, you could feel yourself getting even sloppier down there.

nothing turns him on more than overstimming u tho, 'especially after you've been naughty all day, he might as well. he knows you've been bad, but he wants to have a bit of fun too.

whenever he gets the chance to plunge his cock inside you- god his tip is so red n angry, ready to ruin your pussy.. this is what you wanted right? want him to be so pussy-whipped he can't count how many times you've come on his cock.

he's already whimpering at this point- "ahhn- sweetheart- fffuck so fuckin' soaked jus' cuz I wouldn't fuck you in public? sshit.." wet sloppy sounds echoed off the walls of the room- a mix of your moans and his grunts.

"mmmf- fffuck princess.. don't suck- me in like that.. hhaaah.. you want me to cum inside you?" in all honesty you'd let him. your body felt already so limp, your hands weak over your stomach, simply letting him fuck you so good you forget your name.

kinich already forgot why he was punishing you a long time ago, he was more concentrated on making your pussy squirt for him, last time you did that was when he ate you out while playing with your clit! That was last week? oh well, he wanted to see it again, so he'll experiment as much as he wants to get the results he needs.

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tillsfan · 5 months ago

Text

Why Till HAS to be alive.

hello everyone!! warning this is REALLY long (specifically as you get to the end). i hope you enjoy my in depth theorizing.

The flickering of his picture.

At the end of round 7, his picture lingers and flickers after Luka moves up the ranks. In all the previous rounds, the loser’s picture faded out before the winner moved up. People are saying this is a reach but I believe this is the most obvious hint. Vivinos’ details are always intentional and significant.

His earpiece falling out.

His earpiece falls out after he gets shot. We are shown that these earpieces detect the wearer’s heartbeat. They couldn’t detect his heartbeat disappearing because it fell out. Due to his picture lingering and then flickering, I assume the flickering was as his earpiece fell out.

When you think about it, why else would they show us this teaser image? This teaser pushed it into our faces that the earpieces are heart monitors. I think it’d be a little too coincidental that till’s earpiece fell out after this.

How he was shot.

The gunshots came from the audience. Meaning that where Till got shot, it didn’t go through his neck, and only grazed it.

This injury isn’t as fatal as Ivan’s and Sua’s. He also didn’t bleed out as he got shot, while Ivan and Sua bled out all over the floor.

This shows that his injury wasn’t bad enough to be fatal. He’s definitely severely hurt, as he coughed up blood, but he’s salvageable.

The way his body is lying.

Till’s arm went limp, yet his leg was still staying up. If you’re dead, you physically cannot support any part of your body. His leg would’ve fallen. I believe he DID pass out, though. I see people saying he’s pretending, and honestly I don’t believe he’s in the right headspace to think of faking he’s death. He’s tired, exhausted, he was clearly stressed throughout the round.

The fact that he’s still able to support his leg up shows that blood is still actively flowing through him. If he were dead, it’d be pretty much physically impossible for his leg to stay propped up, as blood would’ve stopped flowing.

Also the way he’s positioned to the audience, his leg is covering up where aliens would be able to see the injury, same with Mizi’s arm. This is definitely more of a stretch, just a detail I noticed

His All-In cover art.

In his cover, he has red tape over his neck. I think this is too significant and OUT as a detail to not mean anything. Although it’s on the opposite side of where he actually got shot, bandaging his neck in general seems too big of a detail. None of the other characters had a detail like this in their cover arts.

It could be said that he has the tape due to being a rebel, which made sense before Round 7. But if we used this logic, wouldn’t Hyuna have some significant detail in her cover art?

We also know that red equals rebellion in Alien Stage. It signifies fighting back. As I said before, this COULD be said because he’s a rebel, but I think he’d be fighting back despite his injury. It wasn’t a fatal wound.

His character is unfinished.

His death doesn’t make sense compared to the other characters that died. Ivan’s death was easier to accept because we knew his motives, his story. For the entirety of Alien Stage, he was the narrator in his and Till’s story. There wasn’t any mystery surrounding his character, so it made sense to kill him. Sua’s death was easier to accept because her death did something for the narrative, as her death started this chain of events and continued to haunt the narrative. We also eventually learned her true motives.

But Till’s death? It does nothing. You could say his death is to build Mizi’s character, but I think it’d make more sense if he LIVED for Mizi’s character. Her motivations would change, it’d be easier to move on from events if she had someone with shared trauma with her. In general, Till’s death makes no sense compared to the other deaths. He didn’t have any motivations at this point besides living. Sua and Ivan’s goals were fulfilled, which was protecting their loved ones. But Till’s wasn’t. His death is significantly different from the other dead contestants.

His story is also just.. not done at all. He was just beginning to develop as a character. Mizi grew after Sua’s death, her character developed significantly. Till didn’t develop as a character after Mizi’s disappearance, and he didn’t have the chance to develop after Ivan’s death, even though it was significant to him. We also got literally NOTHING from his POV besides around 2, which was just him adoring Mizi and a little peek at the abuse he’s endured. Also his death is just a waste in general—I don’t believe they’d tell his story AFTER he died. It just makes no sense to kill off his character after questions were just being raised.

How the creators are treating his ‘death’.

The way that Vivimeng are treating his ‘death’ feels so especially different to me. Ivan’s art after his death was a bittersweet art, and he was resting. he was okay with his death, and we were forced to accept that reality. Plus the "thank you for being the victim of my shallow emotions" comic. That concluded his story, we learned his motives and it was easier to accept he died after. But Till? We never got his POV on anything. We never got his final thoughts like we did Ivan and Sua. Till’s story was never told through his OWN eyes. Vivimeng are GATEKEEPING till's perspective like their life depends on it. My theory as to why? His character isn't over. His life isn't over, there's so much missing about him and the dots aren't connecting in the same way they have for the previous deaths

Till’s comic and art were happy. Bittersweet pieces. You knew there was a tinge of sadness, yet I can't help but feel these last till arts are pushing hope onto us. Ivan and Sua’s comics ended with their deaths, Till’s ended with 4nakt all together. it brings the theme of hope. Of love prevailing. I feel we can't look over the fact that Till’s comic is so vastly different than the others.

I should also note that they are going out of their way to hide details of his neck in all official arts after Round 7. He’ll have his branding hidden, or just straight up gone. Also in the recent official art of him, Ivan and Sua, his art is significantly different. He’s the only one facing away from us, the blood on him not visible, and his injury is also facing away from us. There’s a lack of branding on him as well. I feel this is the most obvious piece we’ve gotten signifying that he’s going to be alive, they’re deliberately hiding any way for us to see the aftermath of his injury. Unlike with Ivan and Sua, where they made their aftermath very obvious. (I would add images but I reached the image limit. Crying.)

TLDR, there’s too many details.

Vivinos excels too much at writing to fail his character like this. To kill him off as his story just started. I believe him finally being able to tell his own story instead of having others tell it for him will symbolize him breaking free. Breaking free from the restraints. From his status as a prisoner. I think this experience will further him as a character, and not truly end him.

#alien stage #alnst #alnst analysis #alnst theory #alnst till #alien stage till #till is alive #trust me #i feel it.

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spidernuggets · 1 year ago

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Hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhjtjfiadhus my brain just said how Jason would react to his S/O kissing down his chest, but specifically kissing down his y incision. He might hate it. It might turn him on. My brain is going feral and I need it—

Somewhere in the middle of your relationship, where Jason was getting comfortable being more open with you, he allowed you to see and touch his scars. Obviously, it took him a long while for himself to accept that these scars are permanently on him, in contrast to you immediately accepting every inch of him the moment he revealed his bare skin to you.

It took a longer while for him to let you lightly graze your fingers along his scars. And when the two of you began to become sexually intimate with each other, he'd guide your hands as to where he's okay with you touching.

You really didn't mean to trigger him when you were straddling his lap with your hands resting along his jaw, initiating a long and slow make-out session with him, who was shirtless, on your couch. Then your hands went down to hold his neck, your lips following suit.

You were just too in the moment when your kisses quickly moved to where his large autopsy scar started.

That's when Jason jolted with a big flinch, his reflexes making his hands move from your waist to your shoulders, pushing you back, harder than he'd meant to.

He stutters a quiet string of apologies, lifting you off his lap and walking to your shared bedroom in a hurry. A pang of guilt slapped you in the face, immediately regretting to contain your neediness.

You wanted to follow him to apologise, but you knew he needed some time alone. So you stayed on the couch, continuously picturing the horrified look on his face. You wanted to cry, but it wasn't about you. It was about Jason. You knew his boundaries, and you crossed them.

A few hours in, you were still on a couch, now with a cup of lukewarm coffee in your hands, patiently waiting for Jason to come out so you can apologise.

So when you heard the creak of the door opening, your posture straightened and put the coffee onto the table in front of you.

You waited for Jason to say something as he sat beside you, now with a long sleeved shirt on.

"I'm sor-" You quickly cut off his apology.

"Don't you dare say that, Jay. It was my fault. I knew where you drew the line and- and I crossed that line. I didn't mean to- I really didn't, I just-"

It was Jason's turn to interrupt you as he gently took hold of your chin, locking your lips with yours.

"I forgive you," he mumbles through the tender kiss.

A month or two later, when you entered the front door after a long day of a morning shift at work, you heard a bang coming from the bedroom in which you quickly ran towards it, only thinking of the worst that could happen with Jason.

When you opened the door, a trashed room was revealed. Clothes dishevelled on the floor, the knick knacks from your windowsill were knocked over, and the full-length mirror was slightly cracked.

Standing in front of the mirror, Jason stood, only in his boxers, his face was red, his nose was runny, and his eyes were bloodshot. But what stood out the most were the red lines over his body, particularly over his scars, to what you assumed were harsh scratch lines, coming from his own fingertips.

You dropped all your things and took one step forward, testing to see if he's let you come into close contact with him, which he usually doesn't. This case, it might've been serious because he whimpers your name, failing an attempt of trying to reach out to you as his hands just fall limp to his sides.

You quickly rush over to him, holding his face in your hands, wiping away his thick, salty tears.

You can hear the barely audible whispers of self insults from him. "I'm hideous." "I'm a monster." "How could you love me?"

You shsuh him by gently pushing your lips to his dry ones. You then ask a "Can I?" In a hush whisper, referring if you can touch his scars.

In hesitancy, he nods a slow yes. You start off easy. With his hands. A long scar that went over his hand, just stopping at the wrist. You gave it a kiss. Followed by the scar next to it. You do the same with his other hand.

Slowly, you finish kissing the scars that cover his arms. You do the same to the ones scattered all over his body. His knees, his thighs, his calves, his spine, his lower back, his shoulders.

You saved the big and most obvious one for last. His autopsy scar. Before your lips came into contact, you started with your fingers. You traced the Y shaped burden, drawing a few imaginary hearts and stars here and there.

The only thing stopping Jason from proposing to yoh right now was the lack of a garnet ring. He absolutely adored you, thinking how an angel like you can even love, let alone touch someone like him.

He then broke down, more tears cascading his face when the first kiss landed on the right side of his chest. But this time, he didn't push you away. When you looked up to see if you could continue, he gave you a slight nod. You gave him a small smile and continued your journey down his torso.

For the first time in an incredibly long while, probably since he first got adopted and became Robin, he felt loved. He felt wanted. And that was all you.

You lifted yourself back up. Jason's tears had dried. You lean your forhead to his. You whisper to him how much you love him. How much he means to you. How much he deserves to be loved.

And from that moment, Jason let you love all of him. He let you look at him, and he let you touch him. And from that moment, little by little, Jason started to love himself too.

It was another while before yoh and Jason initiated more sexual advances. But when you did, it was back on the couch, back to you straddling his lap, back to him shirtless and back to a slow make-out session.

It was back to your lips trailing down his jaw and onto his chest. When your lips touched his autopsy scar, you could've sworn on your mother's grave that you heard a whine out of him.

You looked up and saw his head thrown back, as well as his eyes rolling to the back of his head.

Your suspicions were confirmed when he whimpered a "Please, baby. Please, give me more," in which you happily complied.

Your kissing travelled every inch of the large scar, including smaller ones scattered along his waist, meeting up to the messy, black happy trail that led to his waistband.

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dollfacefantasy · 7 months ago

Text

DREAM INCARNATE ♡

pairing: logan howlett x fem!reader

summary: you're all logan has left of the past. and when he has nightmares about that night at the mansion, you're the only thing that can keep him from falling victim to the memories that haunt him.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, dubcon, p in v, thigh fucking, somnophilia, cockwarming at the end, nightmares, brief descriptions of blood, injury, and death

wc: 2.7k

kinktober slot: day 14 - somnophilia

The second he steps off the bike he hears your scream, and he already knows he's too late.

The sound echoes across the open expanse of land in front of the school. It's the two syllables of his name, shrieked with pure terror. His feet pound against the stone driveway as he begins sprinting to the main entrance.

Behind the school, an orange glow radiates. It flickers every few seconds, making shadows dance across the lawn in front of him. He knows it's from a fire. He could smell the smoke for miles down the road.

As he reaches the big wooden doorways, that scent morphs into one of blood. The metallic odor is so strong it nearly makes him nauseous. He swallows down his disgust though in favor of getting inside.

He couldn't be too late. He just couldn't be. Everyone's gonna be ok. It's bad, but not as bad as he thinks.

In a way, he was right. It wasn't as bad as he thought. It was so much worse.

His claws are out as soon as he swings the heavy door open, but it's in vain. There's no opponents there waiting for him. Instead, he finds Charles's wheelchair knocked over and empty. He swears his heart drops and his stomach hollows out. In his entire life, he never recalled feeling such horror.

He continues down the entrance hall. The interior of the building is quiet. All the noise, yelling and chanting, comes from outside, probably wherever that fire is. As he walks, he peers into rooms that have been left open. He sees blood smeared across the floor and spattered onto the wall. Bodies peek out from behind ransacked furniture.

When he turns the corner, he finds the first victim. Jean lies there, crumpled up and lifeless. He doesn't have to check on her to know she's dead. Several feet away against the wall Scott sits slumped over, also motionless and morbidly unresponsive. His glasses rest on the floor beside him, the right lens cracked.

He walks faster. The gravity of seeing his teammates like this weighs him down, but he has to get to you. He heard you. There's a chance they haven't finished you off yet.

On the way there, he passes Beast and Rogue and Storm and finally Charles, all in similar states to the first two of his friends he saw. Each one feels worse than any of the bullets he'd taken in his nearly two centuries of life. His mind grows frantic the farther he walks through the aftermath of the massacre. He's desperate to find you when he finally reaches the last room he hadn't checked.

The classroom with large glass windows along the back wall. It had always been your favorite. You loved all the plants in there and how sunlight bathed the room in warmth through those transparent panes.

Now, the desks that had been in neat rows pile on top of each other in haphazard clusters. The board at the end of the room displays some message about killing all mutants. He doesn't catch the specifics because he doesn't care. The only thing he can see is you, limp and mangled below it.

The words above are scrawled in red, and the puddle of scarlet surrounding you leaves no question as to what kind of ink they used.

When he gets to you, you're still twitching. Your eyes are fading, but for the moment, he can still see you inside them.

"I'm here," he chokes out, "I'm here, baby. You called for me. I'm here."

You blink slowly. Without seeing the surrounding scenery, it would look like you were just sleepy, waking up from a lazy afternoon nap. But unlike those occasions, your gaze doesn't hold any love. All he can feel radiating off of you is fear.

"Logan?" you whimper before coughing. Your chest rattles with the urge to clear the blood making it hard for you to breathe. He tries to soothe you through it as best he can, but there's not much he can do.

You regain yourself and continue on with what you had been trying to say.

"Where were you? Why didn't you help us?" you ask, tears gathering in your eyes.

"I- I was- I'm sorry," he says instead of answering the questions. He doesn't want to waste time with any of his pathetic explanations. "I'm here now. We're gonna get you out of here, and it's going to be ok."

Tears leak from your eyes, one rolling out from the inner corner. He can see the streams of water trailing down your face from the glow outside the windows.

"Why didn't you help us?" you cry again, "Why did you leave us to die? Why did you leave me?"

Then his eyes open.

Unlike his usual nightmares, he doesn't yell or shoot straight up when he regains consciousness. His claws don't pop out ready to tear apart the imagined threat. This time, he only jerks a little with a strained gasp. After that, he feels frozen, as if his joints locked in place.

His chest puffs with shallow breaths. It takes his mind a few minutes to catch up. While staring at the dark ceiling above, the image of you dying begins to fade away. That hadn't happened. That wasn't how that part of the night had played out.

The rest of his dream, however, had been more based in reality. Those images of the others strewn across the mansion are harder to clear. He rubs his rough palm over his face, trying to push them away. But he can already feel the ache of self-loathing and guilt gnawing at his insides.

He tries to remember the things you told him on the few rare occasions you had to console him. There's nothing to do about it now. It's in the past. All you can do is try to be better for the future.

Your voice plays these reminders through his head. They help bring him back down a little. He feels the plush comfort of your mattress beneath him and your blankets draped over him. The room is silent except for the muted hum of the air conditioner. There's no screaming or chanting or fire crackling. The smell of death is gone. All there is now is the scent of you.

As he goes through this list, he feels some movement beside him. His head turns, and his eyes land on you. You had shifted around a little in your sleep, rolling onto your other side so that you're facing away from him. He hears you let out a little unconscious sigh.

Even though he couldn't see your face, the vision of you lying there peacefully, completely unaware of his turmoil, brings the slightest bit of softness to his eyes.

He reaches over and rubs the small of your back. You look so delicate right now. He rolls onto his side in the same way you're facing, scooting closer.

The sight of your clean pajamas puts him at ease faster than anything else. There's no blood, no torn seams or other signs of pain. The thin baby blue fabric clings to your figure. He tucks his fingers beneath it, sliding his hand up the warm, smooth expanse of your back. They drag up and down along the path of your spine. He feels you melt a little, growing more relaxed as he strokes you. The idea brings him more comfort, that you were just as soothed by his presence as he was yours.

He doesn't understand how you still feel that way about him after everything. Most days he still questioned why you didn't hate him after what happened to the others. He wouldn't blame you for casting him aside like everyone else did.

But he's trying to do as you often tell him and not dwell on the past. So instead, he focuses on the fact that he needs more of you.

He removes his hand from under your shirt and uses both arms to pull your body to him. His muscular arms encircle your smaller frame and situate you right against his chest like a little teddy bear. Nuzzling into the back of your neck, he can smell your lotion. The light and airy aroma loosens the lingering tension in his shoulders.

He lays some kisses against the skin too. You're so precious in this condition, limp and pliable, easy for him to hold and love on. He needs you like this when he feels this way. As much as your words bring him peace of mind, sometimes he just wants to feel you. To feel that you're still here and that you're safe.

Plus, the physical aspect of holding you also calms him down more than he'd probably ever admit out loud. It's just so hard to be upset when he has the round curve of your ass pressed up against him. Nothing wards off the bad memories like you in his grasp.

He smooths his palms across your belly, gliding them upwards beneath your shirt to cup your breasts. His large hands squeeze them gently. Though the touch is inherently sexual, it's also comforting. He kneads them for a moment before bringing one back down to your pelvis and tucking it under your panties.

You squirm a little from the sudden feeling of being confined and explored. He hears you mumble something incoherent and spots your eyes fluttering a bit.

"Shhh, it's ok, baby. It's just me," he whispers while laying lazy kisses up the column of your throat to below your ear, "You're ok. I've got you."

That's enough to get you to close your eyes again and settle in his arms, but you still babble something he can barely make out.

"Mhm, I know," he murmurs, "You just go back to sleep for me, honey. You're being such a good girl. Giving me just what I need."

He watches you deflate back into your dreams. By now, he's started to fill out beneath the pair of loose sweatpants he had on. He grinds his bulge against your ass with measured rolls of his hips. A soft sigh fans over your shoulder.

At the same time, his fingers in the front swirl around your clit. He teases the little bundle of nerves, drawing tiny patterns of pleasure over it. Your hips push back against him in response. The increased pressure against his cock only drives his need for you more.

His digits drag down your slit and back up to your little nub. He works on you until you're nice and slick between your thighs, ready to take him.

He shifts around a little, adjusting the waistband on his pants to pull his length out. The thick appendage throbs with need for you. He strokes it a few times, feeling the heat beneath his fingers. His other set of digits hooks around the seat of your shorts and panties and pulls them to the side. Pushing his hips forward, he slides his shaft between your thighs.

Your folds engulf him perfectly. He groans softly before beginning to rock his pelvis. He moves in small strokes. The motion isn't rough or primal, just slow and needy. Each drag against your velvety skin coats his cock in your arousal.

His arms get tighter around you. He makes sure he's not holding too tight, not wanting to accidentally snap a rib during this process. You just feel so fucking good. He has to have you so close it feels as though he's trying to absorb you.

He buries his face in your neck, little puffs of air blowing on your skin with each grunt he makes. More wetness gathers where the two of you meet as he keeps thrusting. He feels the fat tip of his cock nudge your clit. He can feel the way your legs squirm at that sensation too.

In your sleep, your hands drift up to hold one of his forearms. You whine softly, but it's crackly and broken. It's not a choice, just a subconscious reaction to the pleasure sizzling between your hips.

He works a little faster now, back and forth, back and forth. Without thinking about it, he lightly bites your shoulder. He doesn't use enough pressure to hurt, but he also is pretty sure there will be marks when he finally lets go.

The dull ache on your shoulder combined with the teasing flicker on your cunt still doesn't wake you. Your eyes don't open until he angles himself back and pops the first couple inches of his shaft into your entrance.

That's when your gossamer lashes lift from your cheeks in the direction of your brow. It takes you a few blinks to comprehend the sensation. You feel the heat of him all around you right away. The mild stretching down below makes your head spin.

He sees you waking and swoops in again, mouth releasing your flesh and migrating to the shell of your ear.

"That feel good, princess?" he mutters as he bottoms out.

After a few lazy blinks, you're able to nod. Your fingers dig into his forearm a little harder.

"Good. Just relax and enjoy it for me, ok?" he mumbles.

He starts to thrust, pumping himself into you at a slow, steady pace. His movements remain controlled. Now wasn't the time to fuck like survival depended on it. That's not what this is about. He has all he needs like this, and he can tell you do too.

You nod to that second question before shutting your eyes again. He feels your head going limp against your pillow and rewards your compliance with some soothing kisses to the area he had bitten before.

"Sweet, sweet girl," he grunts. It's more to himself than you. He's not even sure you'll hear it.

Your body is relaxed again with a handful more thrusts. He doesn't think you're fully asleep, probably drifting on some middle ground between lucidity and sleep.

His cock throbs within you. You're so tight and warm, wetter than you were on the outside. He knows he probably won't last much longer, but that's ok. There didn't need to be a big finish right now.

He pants against your skin, his face tensing with the need to release. His fingers dig into the skin of your chest. The heat in his stomach keeps rising higher and higher as the pressure does the same.

It gets to a point that it finally snaps and his hips jerk, clapping against your ass. He spills deep inside you. The warmth floods your belly. He feels your legs go taut and the way your walls spur him on by contracting around his cock.

He fucks it into you slowly. His body also feels tense for the moment, taking care to remain gentle with you. His hips move in slow rolls to work his cum deeper into you, but they eventually slow down to the occasional twitch. And then finally nothing.

"Gonna be all messy now..." you grumble.

He chuckles against your skin, the sound raspy and low. "I'll clean you up in the morning," he whispers and kisses below your ear, this time the peck chaste. Nothing but pure love in the gesture.

You hum with acknowledgement before yawning. There's a brief pause after that. He stays inside of you, needing to feel that snug embrace for a bit longer. No sound comes from either of you. He's pretty sure you're trying to sleep again, but then you speak.

"Did you have a nightmare?" you whisper.

He hesitates. You already knew the answer. There was no other reason to ask if not to confirm. That doesn't change the fact that he doesn't like showing weakness.

But he's honest with you anyway.

"Mhm," he hums.

You nod, contemplating your next words. "Do you feel better now?" you decide to ask.

"Yeah, baby. You fixed me right up," he responds just as quietly.

And it's the truth. For the moment, he's better. Tomorrow he'll probably have another one of these things, but for tonight you've cured him. He keeps holding you close and finally shuts his eyes again.

#logan howlett x reader #logan howlett smut #logan howlett imagine #logan howlett x you #wolverine x reader #wolverine smut #wolverine imagine #marvel x reader #marvel smut #ch: logan howlett 💌

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duhlore · 8 months ago

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❛ THE NEEDY AND THE TOUCH-STARVED! 670wck/3.7kchars

PAIRINGS; touch-starved!c. kamo x reader, needy!t. shigaraki x reader

CWS; amab!reader, squirting, afab!characters, biting/scratching, vryy whiney shig, fingering, p in v sex, pussy slapping, virigin choso, breeding kink/ preg mention, lowercase on purpose, crying + overstim mentioned in choso's part, masochist!shiggy :333, not proofread lmfaooaoa ..

notes: i honestly got carried away w/ cho's part so he might not even be touched starved because im so sleepy..,.., but this is a 1 year anni gift for my poochie ily queen

NEEDY!SHIGARAKI who can't seem to get enough of you, always trying to get your attention in some sort of way even if it wasn't verbally. always needing to feel your strong hands somewhere along his sensitive body, specifically his cunt.

NEEDY!SHIGARAKI who easily gets wet at the feeling of your fingers teasing his entrance circling his tight hole— your thumb caresses his clit while he tries to pay attention to the game he's playing, a firm grip on the controller in his shaky hands as he tries not to drop it.

NEEDY!SHIGARAKI who can't stop himself from letting out a loud mewl whenever you give his throbbing pussy a smack whenever he loses a match at mk, muttering something to him along the lines of ‘ pay attention, ’ or to ‘ stay focused, ’. although he wants to please you, it's so hard for the poor boy to concentrate when your thick fingers are pumping in an out of his slick heat at such a brutal pace that made him see stars.

NEEDY!SHIGARAKI who instantly lets out a sigh of relief when he finally wins a game, knowing that you'll reward him for trying so hard (he lost like more than 10 matches cuz he couldn't focus..), leaning back into your embrace and grinding back against you for some sort of friction he desperately needed to feel, whining and whimpering like a mad man. NEEDY!SHIGARAKI who cums after just a few thrust, not even 6, wailing and babbling that he wanted you to keep going, that he needed your kids deep inside him womb. And by his nth orgasm he's practically screaming at the top of his lungs for you, not caring who or what heard him, the sound of skin against skin or the headboard loudly banging against the wall.

TOUCH-STARVED!CHOSO who's never had sex a single time his whole life, which probably was more than 150 years, but the second he sees you? slick is dribbling down his legs like a goddamn rainstorm. and god, does it feel absolutely amazing when you're finally inside of him, the feeling of your long and girthy cock plunging in his guts make his toes curl and his eyes roll back instantly.

TOUCH-STARVED!CHOSO who cums loud and so hard that he ends up squirting for the first time in his life, fluids gushing out of him and covering yours and his own thighs with his juices while covering his face with his arm out of embarrassment although you're reassuring him with soft and open-mouthed kisses along his neck and jaw, praising him about how good he's being for you.

TOUCH-STARVED!CHOSO who's biting your shoulder and scratching at your back hard enough to draw blood from the areas, clinging to you as if his life truly depends on it, tears beginning to sting at his eyes from his surprisingly good he felt from your cock rearranging his insides. TOUCH-STARVED!CHOSO who'd probably pass out from overstim after your nth round, sobbing lightly as his frail and trembling body falls limp in your warm hold, pussy squeezing your cock like a fuckin flesh light as he comes again, his tight heat wrapping around you so perfectly you can't help but follow soon after. TOUCH-STARVED!CHOSO who trails his hand along his own body, feeling your sperm leak out of him as soon as you pull out of him. And then he feels the light bulge in his stomach from how full he was with your children, a whimper slipping from his lips as he leaned back into the pillows, a content smile on his lips.

TOUCH-STARVED!CHOSO who's always so desperate to have your hands or fingers on him (or in him) after that night, always begging and pleading to have your cock nested inside of his tight little cunt or always feeling you up so you would do it back to him. He was practically yearning for your touch.

THE NEEDY AND TOUCH-STARVED men get what they deserve and always will— especially from you.

#꒰　૮꒰ྀིᴗ͈ ˕ ᴗ͈꒱ྀིა﹕　ηαs𝚒𝕣❜ 𝔀ᵣᵢₜₑₛ　𓈒　࿔#top male reader #dom male reader #bnha #jjk #bnha x reader #jjk x reader #tomura shiragaki #tomura shigiraki x reader #choso kamo #choso x reader #choso kamo x reader #jjk smut #bnha smut

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miaoumeowmiaw · 4 months ago

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ST5 MAY LEAKS

Willkommen, bienvenue, welcome

Fremde, etranger, stranger

Glukich zu sehen, je suis enchante, happy to see you

Bleibe, reste, stay

Originally collected from multiple sources part of, and in contact with, Minou in the months leading up to May, these are the published leaks and conversations from that time. According to other leakers, this information was ~80% true and likely to have come from real extras, including military staff. Today, we have full confirmation for the vast majority. Screenshots from the time are publicly available, and as such will not be provided in this post.

Keep in mind some information may be omitted, as these leaks are not part of the recent batch. Feel free to contact The Cat's Meow or Minou directly to learn more!

PARTIAL NURSING EXTRA INTERVIEW

"Hey! I'm really sorry for not having talked much. There is a lot of work here. I have coffee on hand and [more information]! Personally, the filming is scattered. The military personnel, but especially [us] nurses, are recurring but do not play an incredible role, at least for our cohort. There are 2 [...] good guys and bad guys. My group is the [good cohort], we are generally in the background and we [...] take care of civilians and [the main] actors.

Extras for the military are sent in [shifts], so if the accounts of fans have not posted a huge ad saying 'EXTRAS FINALLY ARRIVED IN ATLANTA', that is why. It's something that they have done in all of the filming sessions. It is way too much work to have everyone here at the same time, and [we also experience] problems with travel and confidentiality.

[...] Most of us are leaving the area when we finish the work for the day. Some come in [only to] return home. I am staying in a motel with a handful of other extras.

The leaks on the time skip are true, but I think they have been exaggerated. It is [limited to the first episode] and taken slowly, given that we are moving from one season to another. It stops in autumn. The aesthetic of the season is similar to the first season [and] there are no flashy colours, if that can make someone happy. In fact, I think [it is] duller than season 1. It is very suitable for what [will be occurring]."

FULL LEAK RUNDOWN INTERVIEW

Was there any mention of the Upside Down duos or confirmed mid-late season pairings?

"The season is a lot more community-orientated. The 'pairings' they mentioned were small groups."

Did they confirm Mike's injury?

" [...] Almost all of the characters get hurt in some way [...] They have scratches, injured arms and legs with visual limps and gashes. One character has a deep wound near their midsection. There is a conversation about health and sickness [caused by the] Upside Down particles and environment, and how that might put people at [higher] risk."

Did they have solid information outside of the hospital, specifically regarding character arcs?

"They confirmed the time skip leaks, but it was blown out of proportion, as well as the Upside Down sicknesses. The parents, mainly Karen, have an increase in screen time because of [the sicknesses], and eventually become involved with the supernatural plot. There is a 'Byler' moment where the two [...] scout out [an area] together."

What additional information do you have?

"A large amount of the season focuses on the real world and Hawkins. The aesthetic and pacing is similar to season 1 and 2, [and it is] set around fall. [Hawkins] has aspects of quarantining. The hospital crew were sent to Hawkins by the military, [however they] abandoned those duties to help properly assist civilians. They are snuffed out eventually."

What are they unable to tell you?

"Extras almost never have the full script, and might not even have their own, unless [they have] speaking lines [...] I would not be shocked if parts were cut out."

How would you better describe Mike's arc?

"[...] His arc is separate, in the sense that he is not talking about his girlfriend every 5 seconds [like in season 3 and 4]. It's focused on self discovery [...] he is trying to get back to normalcy and figure out what [had] changed in him. He spends [most of the season] with Will, and there is more distance between him and El. [...] The vibes are similar to [those in] season 4."

Did you hear anything about Will?

"No. All I really know is that Will takes a leadership role because of his knowledge [and experience with] the Upside Down. They reacted positively to the rumours about Will having nightmares or discomfort. [I was only told about] 2 conversations [between] Mike and Will, and both of them are about health and well being. [It's possible that they are] in the same scene, with a transition between public and somewhere more secluded. The first is about the health of other people, and the second is about Mike and Will individually."

Have you heard anything in relation to the farm?

"They are not involved in those scenes and plots, but the characters consider heading farther from Hawkins because of everything that is going on with the military and gate exposure [...] It is not related to any Upside Down threat initially."

Does Will blame himself?

"Will takes on a [...] leadership role because of his experience with the Upside Down and general maturity. A chunk of his plot is him feeling [as if] he has a responsibility to support everybody else, and [he has] some negative emotions brought out when that does not go perfect. Not that the rest of the characters are happy, but nothing is explicitly said or shown except for Will and some other characters. There are a handful of remarks made about his responses to events."

How do these negative emotions contribute to the stories angst?

"The entire season is doom and gloom, but for Will, everything is discreet. [...] His relationships are strained. He lets his trauma take the wheel from what I'm hearing, [feeling] on edge early in the season, and [this] turns into snappy dialogue post-harm. There are comments from other characters that bring up and question this, specifically El, Steve and Robin. [There are] no destroyed friendships because of it [...] but it is uncomfortable."

INCOMPLETE SPACE RECORDINGS

There are multiple flashbacks throughout the season.

There is an angst parallel to season 2.

When asked about the church, a burning cross was presented.

El does not live in Hopper's cabin or Mike's house.

Will experience nightmares and trances.

Vecna targets his victims in a different way.

Vecna targets Holly.

Karen does not die.

Ted dies.

El does not attend school or live close to Hawkins.

Nobody knows the ending.

Will falls from a tree and the visual switches from the Upside Down to the real world.

Flashbacks, "false flashbacks", visions, beliefs, and control.

Characters are sleep deprived.

The scream was not Jonathan.

There is a conversation about nightmares.

Leakers do know multiple interactions and pairings but refuse to share them.

Jonathan, Robin, Hopper and Erica frequently get screen time.

Nobody knows the endgames.

El visits the mindscape.

There is a false sacrifice or loss.

There are multiple fight scenes with Vecna.

There are both "Byler" and "Mileven" scenes.

El and Max interact.

The flashbacks are only of the Upside Down.

#byler #mileven #bylertwt #stranger things #strangerthings #lumax #jopper #st5 #st5 leaks #st5 production #stranger things 5

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pricegouge · 4 months ago

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unfortunately due to @quarterlifekitty @angellake and @fulltacs yammering at me about these posts, i can't stop thinking about price and a little fairy sized reader so uh. here's this very specific ass thing.

part one of the honey series

unlucky foot

price x f!reader

cw: microphilia, abduction, dubcon/noncon, overstimulation, objectification, orgasm control. oral, but make it as weird as possible i guess. noncon bodymod. he's cut off her wings but it's off-screen and not described. extremely wrong fairy lore MDNI

his name is price. you've only gathered that recently, after overhearing so many of his conversations. he'd never bothered to introduce himself, had simply snuck up on you in his garden one day, sudden shadow eclipsing the warm wash of sun over your naked skin the only warning you got before he'd snatched you up in rough fingers, his grip crumpling a wing so you couldn't escape even of you'd managed to wriggle your way free. he'd since cut them off entirely, a phantom ache in your back every time your nerves kick in, make you flighty.

well, try to, at least.

mankind has a way of stripping the world around them bare, taking the essence of creature and leaving it limping away. call it a mercy to have let it live. rabbits and their feet, etcetera. fairy honey - the slick that drips from between your thighs, nectar-sweet and filled with the addictive zing of magic - is your unlucky foot. it's what got you caught in the first place, got the freedom of mobility ripped from you. your trapper even wears it like a status symbol.

you've met other unfortunate fairies since being with him. they all stared at you in pity from between the bars of the cages they were locked in. price didn't even bother with one, kept you tucked into his breast pocket when not in use because he knew you would never make it far. a fall from his pocket alone might kill you, the towering beast. still, the pocket is preferable. a lack of wings isn't the only thing that draws pity from your fellow captives.

"me, ah like mah honey best in mah tea," the man declares. soap, price has called him. an odd name for such a vulgar man. "perfect amount of sweetness. an' my girl, she's always ripe first thing in the morn'."

the girl tosses her head at his words, embarrassed. or maybe at his ministrations, blunt fingertip working between her legs as she arches and cried under him, her honey leaking onto his finger, copious enough it drips down to his knuckle when he leaves her squirming, unsatisfied, just to swirl his dirty finger into his steaming drink. you hope it burns, sloughs his finger tip right off. he barely even flinches.

on the table, shaking pleasure, his girl composes herself enough to try crawling away. she doesn't make it very far before being dumped back into her cage, but even still you envy her.

price's teeth clench around you, blunted edges of his molars dimpling your skin, holding you in place off to the side of his mouth so he can use his tongue for its intended purpose for once, growling a response in a voice deep enough to rattle around your skull. you don't think you'll ever be used to it. "don't need all the fanfare."

by fanfare he means food. drink, maybe. anything to dilute the potency. most humans, they milk their girls much like soap had, work them until their shaking in overstimulation and dripping like a font. price had never bothered with the middle man, preferred a direct line to his greatest addiction, kept you tucked under his tongue more often than not, the itchy hairs of his mustache tickling your nipples. he'd suck on you occasionally, tongue your cunt as an afterthought when he remembered you weren't one of the thick cigars he sometimes smoked - that you needed more to give him what he wanted. at least he's quite accommodating, when he does remember.

soap reminds him, it seems, his throaty groan when he tips back his cup enough to have price hollowing his cheeks. your cunt pulses lazily, the traitor, skin gone sensitive and pruney with his saliva. he's been doing this all morning, sufficing himself on the slow leak of honey he draws from you rather than a proper dose. you kick at him feebly, one leg trapped between his teeth as the other tries to fend off his tongue. he's well-used to your antics by now, simply shifts you up to roof of his mouth so your soft belly scrapes threateningly across his incisors before letting you settle into the bowl of his jaw. his tongue widens when he pulls it back towards his throat, bullies into your core until you're bandy-legged, sprawled so wide around the muscle that your toes catch on his molars. he suckles at you again, hard. enough so that you can feel it tugging at every inch of you, enough that it draws you minutely further into his mouth. his lips are soft, slick. not the worst thing he's ever slid you across.

"likes tha', does she?"

price shrugs, pushes you off to the side of his mouth again. "likes it enough," he replies, much to soap's amusement, and works his tongue against you expertly as if to prove his point. it's hard to stay stoic even when you want to, his tongue so hot and overwhelming. you're too busy trying to keep your moans stifled to notice how he twists you, rolling your around until his bottom teeth dig up under your ribs, uncomfortable enough that you try to push against his chin just to keep your weight off them.

he doesn't make you suffer for long, at least. a hairy finger wedges under your belly, another hooking over your back. he pulls you from between his teeth like he'd hold a cigar, your plump ass on display for him when your legs fall from his mouth. you hang there, limp, the fight gone from you even as you can't meet the other fairy's eyes. you just want to cum, want him to return you to his pocket so you can burrow into the warmth of it and hide your naked body from his friend's prying eyes. instead, he twists his hand around to show soap the shine of your honey leaking from your cunt, graciously offers the man a taste.

you shudder and huff when soap's tongue drags over you, face burning with the realization that price doesn't even care enough to notice your pleasure.

soap groans again, deeper than before, like he suddenly finds his tea insufficient. "got ye'self a sweet one," he praises, and john hums in agreement, thumbs some more slick from your cunt just to lick it clean.

"and pretty," he adds, turning you about on his palm so he can show you off properly, callused finger ghosting over your exposed belly. "could use some piercings, though, what do you think? get her nipples done so i don't harm my teeth... get her a nice chain. could turn her into a necklace."

#I DON'T KNOW WHAT THIS IS #dubcon cw #noncon cw #please send an ask if you think anything else needs to be tagged #price x reader #pricesoap x reader #fairy!reader

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cherryredstars · 1 year ago

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Hi Cherry!

Could you do a part 2 to fear (f)or lust? There something about mean dom miguel that makes me ✨️tingle✨️

Maybe sprinkle some fluff at the end?

You are an amazing writer ❤️ Love everything you do!

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Mean!Miguel, Penetrative Sex, Bruising, Face Slapping, Creampie, Cum-Stained Panties (LMAO)

Summary: He still has one last thing to prove.

A/N: Hihi, love!! Thank you!!

Not Edited

Part 1

It's been a week.

Far too long for Miguel's taste, if it wasn't evident from how much harsher he's been on the field lately. His mood is effectively soured from your disappearance lately. It's partly to do with you avoiding him and the fact you're at some nerdy competition for the school. You had told him in text the day before you left, and his mood has been getting worse ever since. His life has become surprisingly dull without you around to scare and stuff his fingers into. He hates to say it, but he missed his little Bambi.

But his suffering finally comes to an end when he's walking the halls and the familiar tweeting of your voice passes him. He looks up from his phone, turning his head the same time you turn yours, his threatening eyes meeting your shiny ones. He gives you a smirk before you're pushed away by the crowd of students, continuing his path forward as he presses a few buttons on his phone. He wished you were in front of him so you can squeak at the dark look on his face when you pick up the phone.

"Can't hide from me forever, Bambi."

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

The scene looks familiar as you stand outside his door, the only difference this time is he's not wearing a shirt or sweats. He leans comfortably against the frame of his door, acting as if he isn't just in a pair of black boxer briefs. His hair is a bit limp over his forehead, beads of water still clinging to his tanned skin. He must have just gotten out of the shower, remembering vaguely that he had practice today so you knew to avoid taking any outside paths that pass by the field. You try your best to not stare at his muscular chest, but you find it hard to meet his eyes too. They always have that dark, hungry look in them. You opt to stare at his ear, your cheeks flaming.

Miguel on the other hand, doesn't care if you watch him take you in. His brow is quirked up, looking at the slight changes you think he wouldn't have noticed. You're wearing a bit more makeup than you usually do, your lips glossier and more colored than they usually are. The top you're wearing is tighter than what you're more comfortable wearing, different from the slightly baggy shirts you like to wear for tutoring sessions. He hopes for your sake you wore it specifically for him and you didn't come from something as silly as a date.

He moves slightly out of the doorway, leaving just enough room for you to squeeze through. You eye the empty space, something bubbling in your stomach as you slowly walk forward and squeeze yourself through. Your entire side brushes against Miguel's front, and his skin is burning hot against yours. You avoid looking at him at all costs, praying in your head to keep yourself together. You're so lost in throught that you yelp when Miguel suddenly grabs your arm, pulling you back into him.

You finally look him directly in the face, your eyes wide as he smirks down at you. Your eyes squeeze shut when he leans down, warning bells sounding at top volume in your head. You really regret closing your eyes because you're unprepared when you're suddenly lifted off the ground, a large and startled gasp leaving your lips as your eyes are snapped open. Your stare meets the ground, and Miguel's muscular shoulder digs into your stomach. His arm is wrapped around the back of your knees, and it's the only precaution he's taking to make sure you don't fall. You almost feel like crying when he purposely jolts you on his shoulder, loosening his grip slightly so you slide forward a bit. He laughs darkly as you claw at his back, having nothing to hold onto.

You can feel every step he takes as he takes you away from the front door, walking down a hall until you both enter a room. It smells so heavily of Miguel, and the air is slightly thick from the shower's steam that flows into the room. It makes your head dizzy, and it doesn't help when Miguel throws you off his shoulder and onto his bed. You bounce from the force as you land on the bed, landing partially on the towel he used to dry his hair before answering the door.

He looks so menacing standing over you, his body blocking the light from the hallway from entering his dark room. It makes him glow, like some dark angel that is determined to take you with him. His movements are slow and predatory as he walks to you, the faint light doing just enough to show how his muscles shift. He forces his large frame between your legs, his rough hands grabbing your calves and spreading them wider to accommodate him. The stretch slightly hurts, and you wince slightly when he forces his body forward so he can be face to face with you. Your legs rest on either side of his waist as he rests his hands on either side of your head, one of his hands rubbing at your cheek.

"You're so silly," He chuckles, he red eyes appearing to be glowing down at you. "Want to hide f'me, but then y'come here all dolled up."

You open your mouth to protest, but Miguel sticks his thumb through your parted lips, pressing down on your tongue. You gag around the finger in surprise, eyes widening as a distressed sound leaves your mouth. Miguel's thumb presses harder on your tongue, and he quirks his head to the side.

"No need to lie. I know it was all for me." He smiles. His other hand snakes down your body, stopping until the heel of his palm presses against your cunt through your pants.

You squirm in his hold, trying to pull away from him. It only makes dull pleasure shoot up your body, and you buck your hips harder with a whine. Miguel shakes his head at your foolishness, pulling his soaked thumb out of your mouth and wiping the saliva across your trembling bottom lip. He gives your face two soft pats, causing your pulse to jump as you remember the last time he slapped your face. He seems to know what you're thinking about as he coos down at you, reassuring you that he isn't going to slap you. Not unless you give him a reason too.

The promise- or is it a threat?- causes your body to flame, and you try to look away from his face. He scowls, his hand squeezing your cheeks together, puckering your lips as he forces you to face him. His brows are furrowed in distaste, and his other hand begins to undo your pants. He leans down, your noses almost bumping as he glares down at you.

"Who told you to look away? It sure as hell wasn't me."

You try to mumble an apology through your puckered lips, but barely any sound comes out besides incoherent hums. Miguel roughly throws your head to the side as he lets go, moving his hand down to get rid of your pants. He does it without your assistance, pressing your hips up himself to slide them off your legs and throwing them to the side. He hums as he spots the dark patch in your underwear, his fingers pressing on it and letting it sink into your hole. Your hips jolt, the uncomfortable wetness making you squirm. Miguel chuckles, moving the panties to the side, to see the way your entrance pulsates in a need to be filled.

He hums darkly at the pleasant sight, his fingers circling your hole. The stimulation distracts you for only a moment before Miguel harshly yanks your panties to the side, gasping in pain as you feel the fabric rub and snap around the crease of your thigh. The useless fabric is tossed to the side, and Miguel starts fishing his leaking cock out of his boxers. Your eyes widen at how large he is, and you try to push yourself away from him. Miguel tuts in annoyance, grabbing your thigh and roughly pulling you back into place. You gasp when his heavy dick slaps against your cunt, his angry tip pushing against your puffy clit. You freeze under him, finally learning that squirming gets you nowhere.

Miguel finally seems pleased for once, liking the way you've wordlessly submitted to him as you try to relax your body. He slowly moves his hips back and forth, sliding his cock through your glossy folds. You whimper slightly at the feeling, your body caving in on itself as your cheeks flame. Miguel pays you no mind, his eyes trained on where he slides through you as he lets out a low groan in approval. The underside of his cock is getting sticky from your arousal, and his tip catches against your entrance every now and then.

The teasing makes you ache for more. You open your mouth, only for a loud scream to escape as you're suddenly full. The stretch is quick and painful as Miguel unexpectedly thrusts inside of you, filling you to the brim in one move. You can feel him pressed against your cervix, and you let out choked breaths as your cunt squeezes around him. Miguel moans lowly at the feeling, gritting his teeth as he tries to pull out. Your cunt makes it almost impossible with how desperately your walls cling to him, but with some effort he begins to thrust into you.

You make pathetic little noises every time he bottoms out inside of you, his thrusts rough and fast as the sound of skin hitting skin echoes in his room. You already know the back of your thighs will be red and aching by the time he's done. You squirm on his dick, your shaky hands pressing on his shoulders in a weak attempt to push him off of you. He finds it to be a stupid move on your part as he gathers your wrists in his hand, pinning them above your head as he ruts into you. Your hands clench in his hold, your mouth dropping open in a silent moan.

"Y'know, I was thinking about how easy it would be to fold you. Wanna test it out?"

Miguel's eyes are concentrated as he stares at where his cock penetrates you, watching the slight shine that coats his length and tuning his ears in on the squelching of your pussy. He groans as you clench around him, his hands coming to your thighs as he moves your legs to rest over his shoulders. You whine at the movement, his cock seeming to hit deeper inside of you. If you thought your thighs ached before, they burn now as the tops of your thighs press against your chest. Miguel ruts rougher into you, his teeth gritted as your cunt pulsates around him. You can feel that tight ball in your stomach, and you squeal when Miguel starts toying with your clit.

Your body trembles under him, the heels of your feet beating down on his muscular back as the onslaught of pleasure makes you're mind dumb. He's sure he'll get bruises from how hard your heels are hitting his back, but it doesn't deter him from fucking into you. Your nails dig crescents into your palms as you explode, your body twisting in an attempt to escape Miguel's consistent thrusts as you gush around his cock. Miguel groans as your cunt milks him, sweat beading on his forehead as he tries to find his release as you convulse.

He gives your cunt a few more brutal thrusts before his hips slow, slowly fucking his cum into your abused pussy. You mewl up at him as his hand releases your wrists, his hips finally stopping. Your chest rises and falls with quick breaths as you calm down, your body already feeling sore as Miguel moves your legs off his shoulders. His chest isn't moving as rapidly as yours is from his years spent on the field, his heart used to the hard physical demands Miguel puts his body through. But he does let out a slightly shaky sigh as his large hands softly knead your thighs. It makes the ache fade slightly, and he reaches besides you to grab the towel he used before. You jolt slightly when he wipes down your sticky cunt, hesitating a bit as he watches the glob of cum leak from your hole.

When your breaths start to regulate, you lift yourself slightly up. Your eyes catch the outline of your ruined panties on the floor, and your brows furrow as you wonder how you'll get home without any underwear. Miguel follows your line of sight, eyebrow raised as he takes in the tattered fabric. He crawls off you, walking to one of his dressers and rummaging through it. You expect him to pull out a pair of boxers, but what he pulls out is much too small for him to fit. Miguel throws them at you, and you pick them up hesitantly. Miguel can't help but chuckle as you gasp, staring wide-eyed at the stiffened pair of panties at the end of your fingers.

You feel like crying thinking about the perverted things he must have done to your poor panties.

Part 3

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luvvixu · 1 year ago

Text

mind over matter pt. 3

synopsis: witness how your marriage was bound to fall apart with you on the front seat and your husband gojo had missed the show—now, he gotta figure out the story on his own.

content: arrange marriage au, angst, husband!gojo, mean!gojo, mention of blood, strong languages, some unsettling scenarios, emotional trauma, read at your own risk

a/n: yooooo, finally an update!! thanks for waiting everyone~ i actually took a small break because my friends and i had a beach outing and that was great!

previous / masterlist / next

you feel like you had the longest dream in your entire life the moment you slowly open your eyes and reveal the white plain ceiling with matching beeping sound coming out from the machine.

it takes a second or two to realize that you're in a hospital.

like a seemingly newborn, your half lidded eyes traveled across the room until it reached the sight of some peculiar white haired male with his face buried on your arm, sleeping uncomfortably while sitting on the cold hard chair.

you could feel your whole body ache when you tried to move some parts of your body to stop it from numbing when you noticed some kind of empty feeling—like something was missing.

it did not take you a while to realize that your stomach feels so empty right now, and you know it's not because you're hungry, but because you couldn't feel your baby anymore.

an anguish screech escapes from your mouth when you realize that the baby isn't part of your body anymore. tears stream like a waterfall as your body automatically sits up and hugs your lower body, specifically your stomach, because you cannot accept the fact that your baby has been taken away from you.

this immediately woken satoru up and started to console you. “hey, hey, y/n! i’m here. i'm here.” his voice was soft and comforting but there's a hint of shakiness due to your sudden outburst.

“satoru, my baby! i can't feel my baby! my baby is gone!” as an upcoming loving mother, it hurts you so bad that you'd rather die than to accept this.

the sound of the machine keeps on loudly pulsating, meaning that your heart rate is rising quickly and it's dangerous for you to get stressed since you just came out from the operation.

“y/n! the baby is fine. our baby is fine. they were being cured by the best doctors so don't worry.” pulling your body close to his, satoru caresses your hair and keeps on murmuring some comforting words to calm you down.

but it seems that his actions were no avail when he saw your lower stomach bleeding. feels like his own blood had disappeared, his pale face becomes more paler when your extreme sadness cry turns to extremely painful cry.

his body seemingly moves on its own and presses the button to call for help while still managing to calm you down.

“where's my baby? g-give me back my baby! satoru, do something!” it pains satoru to see you like this. a whole crying mess who cannot even digest the fact that her baby was in intensive care so they can become better.

suddenly, the door in your room opened, revealing the doctor and their nurse—shoko was there too. they immediately inject you with midazolam to calm you down and it works almost instantly. satoru watches your body go limp as your wound continues to bleed.

satoru and shoko were instructed to wait outside as they transfer you to another room to tend your wounds. after you were scouted to exit the scene, satoru fell on his knees and leaned his back on the wall.

god, what did you do to deserve this kind of thing?

letting out a soft sob, satoru prayed once again—something that he just learned yesterday. he prayed that all of your pain, burden, suffering, and all must disappear because satoru couldn't list any single reason why you must suffer like this.

“you should go back at least for now, gojo. i’ll handle things here while you freshen yourself up.” shoko suggested but satoru just shook his head, refusing to leave your side.

“don't be a fucking stubborn. you still have other things to do, don't forget that.” shoko hissed.

“but i need to be by her side. i need to be there to support her whatever i can.” satoru slowly let himself up and looked shoko straight in the eye.

“do you think she still needs you to be by her side? oh please, not after what you had done.” the doctor rolled her eyes as she toys with the unlit cigarette on her lips.

for some reason, satoru was having a deja vu, it was like they're in her clinic once again and they argue where you heard things that you shouldn't have. as much as satoru would like to shut her down, he's worried that you might hear him say nasty things that he didn't mean to say.

“shoko, please…i know you're mad at me and you wanted to be hostile towards me. i actually don't care if you hurt me or insult me, just not now. i need to stand by her side and i don't need you to tell me what to do.” satoru stood up and his gaze on shoko became hard.

the doctor just tsked and decided to drop the conversation for your sake. there's a whole silence in the atmosphere when satoru suddenly thinks about your little breakdown earlier. you're looking at your child and he is too. he really wants to go to the baby but he thinks it would be better if the two of you are together.

satoru was excited to see his baby, sure. but something inside stirs up something that he personally couldn't explain. was it because he remembers your conversation when he first knew of your pregnancy? that he found himself unable to answer your questions during that night?

but whatever the reasons are, satoru was ultimately willing to ignore it and just focus on becoming a better husband and now a new father towards his child with you.

the strongest sorcerer of his generation, the one and only satoru gojo, the pride of his clan, your husband on papers, your most hated person, your child's father—swore to himself that he will treat his son as his own flesh and blood, not as the heir that will dethrone him from being the pride.

and most of them all, he swore to himself that you will be treated way, way better than everyone, specifically and especially him. satoru will patch up the wounds that he had caused you.

but not all wounds can be treated by a mere bandaid.

an hour had passed and now you're once again in your room, but this time, you're more than calm as you finally understood the situation—thanks to shoko who patiently explains everything to you.

like right now, she's standing by the end of your bed while satoru was on his seat just like the first time you saw him in this hospital. shoko carefully and softly explained what was going on with you and gave you some sort of assurance.

“you suffered from placenta abruption which caused your placenta to detach from the inner walls of your uterus. it unables the baby to receive oxygen and nutrients with the placenta detached. that is why the doctors had no choice but to put you into a cesarean delivery so it can save both of your lives.”

“and about your baby, don't worry, they're in safe hands. currently in the neonatal intensive care unit where the baby is under process of developing it since it came out during your six months of pregnancy and is premature.” she continued.

then, shoko put a hand on your shoulder, slightly massaging it to give you some comfort. “worry not, y/n. we're not going to let anything hurt your baby. they're safe here and are guarded with blessings and restrictions so no other curses or unauthorized people could touch your child.”

all this time shoko speak, your head was hanging low and it seems like you're having a hard time digesting everything. but you still get what she meant by putting you under a cesarean because it's the only way to save you and your baby's life—which you're incredibly grateful for.

“c…can i see my baby?” your tone was quite hushed, probably because you hadn't really talked to anyone after what happened to you.

shoko gently shook her head and gave you an apologetic smile. “i am so sorry, y/n. but you need to rest first and we, the doctors, recommended you to not move too much since it can open up your cesarean stitches once again.”

to everyone’s relief, you nodded at her words, like you agreed to get better first before seeing your child.

“alright, i gotta excuse myself now. i have an appointment later this afternoon.” shoko gives you a smile before sending a knowing gaze at the man beside you, saying ‘you better not forget that you still have other things to do’ look.

“mhm. take care and thank you for helping me during all of this, shoko.” you replied tried to return the same smile but it only reached a have, you just wished she could feel your sincerity towards her.

“i don't accept thank you’s, yet. i can only accept it if i see you in a much better condition. so if you want me to say you're welcome, then get better.” her words make you giggle a little but you take that as a note.

giving you a one last smile and a secretive glare at your husband, she finally left the scene…and that leaves you two, you and your husband. silence engulfs the whole room, only the sound of your beeping monitor keeps on echoing and adds awkwardness to the atmosphere.

you take a small peak at satoru who's looking at an empty space somewhere, looking like he's in a deep thought. you're not sure if you want to talk to him or not, but taking the preceding events from earlier, you see no reason.

on the other hand, satoru was lost in his thoughts because he's trying to construct everything that he needed to say to you. he's kinda bad at impromptu when it comes to you and mostly forgot his points and other subtopics because he's being blinded by the emotions that keeps on distracting him.

satoru also noticed your small gazes towards him and it feels like you're not planning to talk to him first, so he finally initiated a conversation.

“do you feel any pain in your body?” he asked you.

however, it took you a while to answer because you're not sure if your following responses are gonna be normal, sarcastic, or not answering at all. but you choose the first one because the two other choices would most likely put you into stress and makes your healing process becomes slower.

“my tummy hurts but i'm fine…and i'm also hungry.” you replied, that's it.

satoru was glad that you're answering him…well. anyway, he smiled at you and carried on with the conversation. “if the pain gets worse or it causes you discomfort, you must tell me immediately. and about that hunger, we still need to wait at least eight hours for you to eat something heavy. but for now, you can only take liquids and…the doctor said you could eat oatmeal and eggs—maybe we should get that. the doctor also to avoid greasy food and it would take at least six weeks for you to recover, and then…what are the other things he said again?”

while satoru was busy yapping, you slowly think that he's speaking to himself more than he's speaking to you because of how concentrated he looked and it somehow brings some sort of warmth in your chest because he really tries himself to remember all of the things that the doctors had prescribed him for you.

“satoru…” you called out to him, but he's still busy talking about do’s and don'ts and keeps on going while you occasionally call his name.

“satoru.” he's still busy talking.

“...satoru?” yep, still talking.

his yappings are getting too long and you're running out of thin patience, so you hold into his arms and that makes him look at you and stop talking instantly. breathe in relief, you finally stopped him from his own shenanigans.

“i—i’m sorry, i talked too much.” satoru awkwardly chuckles to himself, but you just shrugged it off. “anyway, what is it?” he asked.

“satoru, i was wondering…how did i end up here? all i know is i was in my room, i feel my tummy hurts really bad and it got me so worried about my baby. then all of the sudden, there's blood seeping down on my legs then everything black out.” you said.

“well…” then satoru proceeds into another minutes of yapping about what happened based on what they had said to him back then. you'd understand that yuuji and megumi were planning to cheer you up by a surprise room visit when they smelled blood and that made them instantly realize that something was going on with you. so they called shoko and yaga to break into the room, and there they saw you lying in your own pool of blood.

nodding slowly, the question that was formed because of the preceding events were finally put into the end. “oh, so that's what happened. anyways, do you think yuuji and megumi could be here tomorrow? i wanted to thank them.”

“sure. i’ll come with them tomorrow. but now, let's get you some light foods so you can sleep tonight.” satoru stood up but he froze as his feet were not walking. you watch him turn back to you while you give him a confused look.

“will you be alright being alone for like…five minutes? i’m just gonna be quick and get you some food. i promise i’ll be back before you know it.” you just let him do what he wants and just continue watching him. satoru looked at you for a long seconds, rather seemingly so hesitant. but you told him you'll be fine and just do his thing, so satoru assured you once again that he'll be back then uses his teleportation.

now, you're alone (for a while) in this room. your thoughts wandered towards your baby who you knew is in the same building as yours. you really want to run towards that room where they are located but you forcefully shut yourself because it'll just make things worse. you're still in the process of healing and you want to be at your strongest when you're with your baby.

but something was still arguing inside your head. it's the desire to run towards your child and the desire to get better—

“y/n.”

“shit!”

something—no, someone was suddenly in the room. it was satoru who's pouting at you like a puppy who got lost. his sudden appearance makes the beeping machine beside you go wild as you curse out profanity because you're that shocked.

thankfully, your heart beat becomes normal again and nothing bad happens. but you'll be sure to send out a death glare to your husband who's still pouting.

“what the actual fuck, satoru?! do you want me to die of a heart attack?!” you glared at him, still your hand is at your chest.

“i'm sorry about that. but i cannot bring myself to leave you like that even for a minute.” he said.

“i told you i'll be fine. you don't need to guard me 24/7 anyway, so go and grab or do whatever you want.”

“no!” satoru whined…and that surprises you, because this might be the first time you saw him whine like a child, especially without any involvement of alcohol or sugar to activate this kind of his system. this was just a new sight to you.

“then how are you going to get some food?”

“i’ll just have them deliver it here.”

“seriously? you're going to order and deliver oatmeal and eggs?” your eyes were wide at his crazy idea. like yeah seriously, for an oatmeal and eggs? he could literally get it from a convenience store.

“what? i'm gonna order some food for myself too, you know.” he pouts, again.

“okay, you order your food online. and we'll get mine at a convenience store.”

“what? no! i told you i don't want to leave you alone.”

“then i’ll come with you. we'll go and buy my food together if you're really that worried about leaving me alone.” you said sarcastically.

“what the hell is that suggestion? absolutely not!” satoru gasps. he's so dramatic.

“well then, i’ll just starve!” you huff at him before turning your head away from him.

“i—wait, i'm sorry. i really can't force myself to be away from you. i'm just scared that when i'm gone even for just a minute, s-something might happen again and i’m not there to help you out instantly.” the sad look on his face is back, similar to what he looked like when he confronted you in the hallway.

after hearing his explanation, you turned back to him and said, “there are things that come unexpectedly. you cannot also force yourself to stick with just in case an emergency would occur, you'd be there. for all that i know, you still have other things to do, like you have your priorities.”

“but you're my priority,” he said seriously. well that caught you off guard.

“whatever, just go and get me some food.” you brush it off.

“...”

“...ok.”

the night ended with satoru eating his ordered food happily while you were still glaring at the man because he really stick to his words and ordered your food online instead of just running to a convenience store or buying the hospital once. although, it makes you wonder, how is there a plain, plain! oatmeal and a boiled egg that has been selling online?

well, whatever it is, at least your hunger has lessened and your relationship with satoru has gotten…at least a little better.

[part 4 is up tomorrow! and you know the drill, for those who would like to be added to the taglist , just comment — ©luvvixu2024]

taglists: @mistymuii @kalopsia-flaneur @sherryuki-callmeyuki @aish777 @tttttttf @username23345 @slyhersophia @netyxms @rirk-ke @lvstru @roscptalsaa @labelt-san @shinruo @yaninnaacu @testrella @sad-darksoul @kurookinnie @mountvesuvu @chwesuh-imnida @cole-silas @elernity @buttermilktea11 @berenevenstarzetaestelar @maddie-jayne @yozora7154 @kawaiivillainess98 @jiupark @forourpoets @aishies-stuff @numblytemporary @souyasplushie @hotsauce247 @catarinemirandax @aerithsthingss @h1gh4ru @ssetsuka @jskodn @khoiyyu @the2ndl @veryverysadauthor @vebbiewuzhere @kouyoumarryme @dreamyescapesfromreality @local-mr-frog @haesify @openthenyoor01 @blkmystery @slowlyshycomputer @babybarbs12 @thickemadame @bleppt @leavem3al0n3 @arminloverlol @roscpctals99 @megumisthirdog @shirabane @skepticalleo @sheismaryy @tragicgirl444

a/n: istg guys i'm trying my hardest to get y'all tagged but some really did not appear when i @ your blogs huhu. but don't worry, that won't stop me from tagging y'all, so i am just going to manually mentioned you on every chapter update ;)

#gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x you #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen #anime #jjk gojo #fanfic #luvvixu

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