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satoruxx · 7 months

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PARACOSM OF THE GODS.

PAIRING: gojo satoru x f!reader, geto suguru x f!reader | 11.5k words

SUMMARY: ok here we go, canon au, angst, fluff, best friends being in love, stsg being whipped but unable to express it, reader is clueless as usual, timeskips, canon compliant deaths, bittersweet, longing, mutual pining, emotionally stunted teens, dad!gojo makes an appearance, hopefully that’s it i'm tired of typing

RHEYA'S NOTE: highkey lowkey stressed posting bc this has been sitting in my wips for 4 years now. i honestly didn't have to add much to it i basically just proofread. but yeah when you maladaptive daydream and create a plot where you're a character in jjk and you're also in love with gojo and geto this is what happens. a little sad to let this go but it's time !! plus i can add more parts later. but anyways pls lmk what you think, i'm super curious to know <33

i. the unknown

satoru's first impression of you is anything but kind.

his words come casually, free into the wind without care, and they aren't meant for you to hear. instead, they fall only to suguru's ears, evoking a deep chuckle and a slight shake of his head. his bangs swish a little with the movement, but satoru is too busy eyeing you over the frame of his shades to notice.

you're lucky to have not heard it, because the intent with which it was said would have probably made your brow tick with frustration. he says it without a thought, as if he hasn't the slightest bit of interest in you as hints of arrogance fill his tone.

"who's the rookie?"

satoru and suguru sit outside against the patio railings of the classroom they had chosen for the day. it overlooks the grounds of the school, where they have a clear view of who approaches the main entrance. suguru absentmindedly clicks his lighter—shoko had gone to get another pack of cigarettes.

it is from this higher point that they have a clear view of you. you're so obviously new to this, satoru thinks as he watches how you awkwardly stand in front of yaga sensei.

he already wants to label you as a side character. it's mean, he realizes—cruel even, but he can barely bring himself to care.

"yaga sensei mentioned that there'd be a new student joining us this week," suguru says, fingering the bangs hanging in front of his eyes. they roam over you with only slight interest before uttering your full name, just as his teacher had said it.

satoru repeats it with a hum. "not a big name or anything. a small-sized family of sorcerers i think." he shrugs carelessly. "but honestly i never really paid attention to all those stupid clan and jujutsu family lessons."

suguru only responds with a good-natured chuckle, tearing his eyes away from the scene to look at his friend. "no shit."

the two sit in quiet silence, watching yaga's lips move in structured, emotionless greetings as he shakes your hand. satoru is especially focused on the hunching of your shoulders and the way your eyes nervously dart around.

suguru is the first to interrupt the peace.

"maybe she's strong?"

"are you kidding?" satoru scoffs as he stands up straight, shoving his fists into his pockets. he turns his nose up slightly. "that's not the attitude of someone who's confident in their abilities."

ii. routine

"can i ask you guys a question?"

a cool breeze tickles your skin, goosebumps rising in its wake, and you suppress a shiver. the smell of the air tells you winter is fast approaching.

"you just did," satoru hums, his snowy hair splayed out against stems of green grass. suguru's chuckle reverberates deep in his chest, and you have to push back an exasperated smile.

"another one then," you press, leaning over satoru's face to force yourself into his view. his blue eyes pierce through yours over the dark-rimmed frames of his glasses, and even after seeing them so many times, they still feel as dominating as the first. he hums again, and you take that as your cue.

"what did you first think of me when we met all those months ago?"

satoru sits up quickly, and you can already feel your shoulders dropping when you catch a glimpse of the teasing smirk on his lips. he shifts so that he's directly facing you, leaning close so that the two of you are barely a palm's distance from one another.

"thought you were an annoying little rookie~" he sings and you immediately shove at his shoulder.

"'m not a rookie anymore," you huff, and satoru laughs joyously. suguru only grins, his eyes darting between the two of you happily. satoru moves himself into a proper sitting position, digging his long fingers into your bag of chips and popping one into his mouth. you swat at his hand, even though you don't mean it, because though you complain about gojo satoru all the time, you would give him the whole world if you could.

you and satoru take turns reaching into the bag. you wonder if the sound of crunching disturbs suguru. he's not asleep—he's just doing that thing where he keeps his eyes closed and escapes to his own land of tranquility. you'd like to give him as much peace as you can, so you stay quiet. satoru does too, but you think that's just because you aren't talking to him.

the quiet is nice when you're with them. sometimes silence makes you feel alone—paranoid. it feels like there is some impending doom hovering over your shoulder, and all you can do is wait for it to come. but with them it is different. you know that any danger in the quiet will be caught by the two of them. maybe that's why it's so easy to let your guard down around them. you trust that they won't let you die.

"i thought you were weak," satoru pipes up after a few minutes of silence. "you didn't seem like you were confident in your abilities, and that's a sign of weakness."

after spending so much time with satoru and suguru, the word weak has permeated almost every one of your conversations. later you learned how much more significant it was for them to label someone as strong. you chase after the word—crave it.

"and turns out that wasn't true." suguru adds with a smile, his head leaning back against the trunk of the tree. his eyes are still closed serenely and you wonder if he can feel the way you're gazing at him.

"yeah and now you act like some big hotshot," satoru grumbles, as though he doesn't want to admit to his old mistake, but you can hear his smile. it annoys you, the way his once degrading little nickname has now somewhat turned into a term of endearment. you would rather die than admit that you like hearing him say it.

"well, I'm glad that i was able to prove you both wrong."

the conversation ends there.

shoko returns a few minutes later, tossing you a can of soda and suguru a pack of cigarettes. as soon as she sits down in her spot under the tree you're forcing your head into her lap and kicking your feet onto satoru's legs. you ignore his complaints, because you know that in just a little bit he'll quiet down and his hand will rest over your ankle, fingers soft but firm. they'll occasionally drum some rhythmic tune, or draw nonsensical patterns against your skin.

shoko's fingers thread through your hair, just like they always do, and you know that in a few minutes you'll doze off in her lap, just like you always do. it's clockwork, this thing that you have with them. they make the days keep going—time doesn't stop for you.

a part of you wishes you could freeze time at that moment.

but you can't.

iii. halcyon

"hey suguru?"

"hm?"

"how come you always do your hair the same way?"

suguru glances up from his book. he's seated at your desk, and for a minute, the breeze pushes your curtains so that they block your view of him. satoru groans lightly from your left, turning on his side to snuggle deeper into your pillow, and slumber overtakes him once more. him and shoko remain quiet, faces free of worry as they dream in a land that is so unlike the real world you live in.

"what do you mean?" suguru asks in response to your question. he has an amused smile on his face as he places his book on your desk, though his thumb and pointer finger keep his page.

"well…" you suddenly feel stupid for asking, but he's looking at you so intently now. "you have such nice hair. you could style it in so many different ways."

"are you saying you don't like my hair the way it is?" he frowns.

"no no!" you scramble, shaking your head emphatically. quite the opposite actually you think he's so so attractive—how on earth did you screw this up so badly? "that's not it i just—"

he laughs, tilting his head fondly. "i'm just messing with you, hotshot."

you blanch, before crossing your arms with a huff. "asshole…"

he chuckles, before lifting a calloused hand up to finger the tie that holds his hair in a bun. he glances back at you, before a michevious smile settles on his face. he gives the tie one sharp tug, and the bun falls away. black hair drops, resting on his shoulders, and you stare at him—oddly parched. wind brushes through the open window, tickling your curtains, tickling his now open hair. you had seen his hair down before, of course. in the few seconds after a sparring session when the bun had gotten loose, or when too many strands escaped the tie and fell in front of his face (he always pushed them away with an agitated huff). but now he looks different—good, you realize. he looks good.

"how should i style it then, hotshot?"

his question shakes you out of your daze. you hum in contemplation. "i don't know."

he laughs quietly, as to not wake the other two. "didn't you just say there were so many ways to style it? enlighten me then," he teases, reaching over to grab a small scrap of paper from your desk. he slots it where his fingers are holding place, and then closes the book. he swivels in the chair to face you completely, rolling over so that he's right in front of you.

"well…" you start, biting your lip in thought. "a ponytail maybe?"

suguru bunches his hair into his fist, holding it up against his head. "and? how do i look?"

you grin, eyeing the new style with a stifled laugh. "fantastic."

he laughs again, louder this time, before dropping his hand.

"it looked good though!" you laugh and he rolls his eyes fondly.

"yeah yeah," he dismisses with a wave of his hand. he looks back at you, eyes tracing over your hair before he grins wide.

"i like yours."

you blink. "mine?"

"the way you did your hair today," he points to the half up-half down style you've thrown together. a dark blue ribbon holds the hair in place—satoru had said it matched nicely with your uniform. suguru's eyes gleam as he appraises it. "it's nice. it looks really pretty on you."

something in your chest feels like it fell off a cliff.

"oh—" you stumble, before smiling at him because that's all you can do when he makes you feel like this. "thanks suguru."

"do mine like that," he says quickly.

once again, you blink owlishly and all you can manage is a stupid "huh?"

"do my hair like that," he repeats, getting up from the chair to sit at your feet, back towards you. he crosses his legs and puts his hands in his lap, patiently waiting.

"you can't do it yourself?" you tease, scooting closer to the edge of the bed.

"i can," he replies and you can hear the easy smile in his voice. "but i want you to do it for me."

"okay then!" you laugh before gently parting sections of his hair out. and then you work in silence, putting more effort into his hair than you've ever done with your own.

iv. fragility

"lady riko does not have any relations. when she was young, her family was involved in an accident…since then, i've been her caretaker. so please let her at least spend time with her fr—"

"—so that makes you her family then."

suguru's words seem to stun kuroi, the weight of riko's situation finally making itself clear as her face crumbles.

"…yes."

you listen to the way her voice wobbles, and try to suppress the poisonous lump forming in your throat.

"then we do everything we can to make her happy," you say solemnly, leaving no room for argument. suguru seems to agree and says nothing—some deeper part of you feels something more than thankful towards him.

"you're awfully sensitive for a jujustu sorcerer, you know that?" satoru comments offhandedly. you turn to look at him, meeting his piercing gaze over dark rims.

"maybe," you concur. "is that considered weak?"

satoru seems to ponder his answer, before shrugging, a light smile on his face. "to some people, maybe."

you manage to smile back, and he takes in the expression with an odd look on his face. "say what you want, satoru. but you agree with me, don't you?"

he looks away, eyes gazing out to the distance where you know riko is currently in class with her friends, trying to live the life she wants, and something in them softens considerably.

"we'll do things the way she wants us to."

it's one sentence, said without a smile or laugh, but hearing it fall from satoru's lips makes you beam at him.

that's just your kindness, isn't it, satoru?

your heart leaps when you notice the tips of his ears tinge with rouge.

v. longing

riko's hand is warm against the coolness of your fingers. your body feels hyperaware of your surroundings, toes deep in hot sand and salty air sticking to your skin. for some odd reason, you can't seem to relax. unconsciously, you tighten your grip around the young girl's palm. she glances up at you, but when you look down at her, she's wearing the biggest smile you've ever seen.

satoru's presence makes itself known behind you—his shadow looms over yours in the sand. "it'll be fine," he says.

you can't see his face, nor can you see suguru who stands at his side, but your shoulders drop slightly, and you find yourself smiling back at riko.

"i'm getting in the water!" she squeals eagerly, before dragging a helpless kuroi with her. satoru laughs—a clear, pristine sound—and follows after her. you watch the three of them with a fond smile, something akin to content settling deep within you.

"and what are you planning on doing?" suguru asks. you turn to look at him, watching the way his heavy eyes stay focused on you.

"hmm," you quirk a brow mischievously. "build sandcastles with me?"

suguru blinks owlishly before he breaks out into a good-natured laugh.

"deal." he walks closer to the water's edge, where the sand is damper, and crouches down. he turns to look at you over his shoulder. "don't make me do all the work, hotshot."

you stand there, taking him in—really taking him in. he's just as clear as the sky behind him, and the sun shining on his face makes his smile glow. you want him to continue smiling at you like that well into the future. the waves crash onto the shore, as though the ocean is chasing his radiance, and an overwhelming feeling of unfiltered affection swells in your chest.

your feet carry you forward, and you think that they might always lead you back to him.

the sun rises as time passes, and occasionally you spare a glance at satoru and riko, who are screaming as they splash water at one another. and then you catch a glimpse of kuroi, who stands with her feet in the water, a soft smile on her face.

and in that moment, nothing can be ruined.

"what's wrong?" suguru's voice calls out, and you tear your gaze away from the others to look back at him. he stands behind you with two strawberry ice cream cones in his hands.

"nothing," you hum, a serene smile on your face. "everything's perfect."

his eyes trace your face, stopping to linger on your smile, and they soften. "it is, isn't it?"

he turns to the ocean, watching satoru and riko, and his eyes sparkle. "i hope it stays like this always."

"me too."

he bends down to take his place at your side before he hands you a cone. you take it from him. suguru's eyes drift away from you to look down at his castle.

"i think it looks great," he expresses, before taking a lick of his ice cream.

you roll your eyes with a huff. "yeah, because you made it look so nice. you're unnecessarily good at this, suguru."

he laughs, waving his hand dismissively. "no no, we did it together! and yours is nice too!"

"maybe," you grin, looking at his castle. "but yours is extra pretty."

he smiles back, before pointing at a small hole in his sand tower. "see this room? it's yours."

"mine?" you chuckle.

"yeah, all yours," he hums softly. "this is my castle and you get your own room."

"oh? and why's that?"

suguru's gaze lingers on you, and his dark eyes soften considerably. "because you'll always have a place in my home."

you stare at him, speechless—something hammers away at the inner crevices of your chest.

"and this one—" he points to another hole a few inches away from the first. "—is my room."

"well in that case, that room is mine too!" you declare.

"what?" he barks out a laugh. "how does that work?"

"well…" you grin at him, the sun burning into your cheeks. "because my home is wherever you are!"

suguru's cheeky smile fades and his eyes widen. he looks at you, mouth agape, and you're about to say something else before sticky coolness trickles down your wrist.

"ack!" you hurry to wipe away the strawberry ice cream dripping down your skin and you completely miss the red that creeps up his neck and seeps into his ears.

vi. ice bath

shoko's fingers are unbelievably soft. you're grateful that you were unconscious through most of her procedures on your battered body—you don't think you would've handled the pain too well. she's quiet as she works over the large wound that now covers almost half of your torso. the man with the scar on his lip had done quite the number on you, and you don't think you'll ever forget the searing ache of his blade slicing through your flesh. he had left you in a bloodied pile, isolated, and you hadn't seen what had happened to suguru after the man shot riko. you could only lay there, vision swimming as a bitter taste filled your mouth—a reminder of the life you failed to protect.

the pain had been the only thing you could focus on, until satoru was on his knees at your side and tightly gripping your shoulders. your hazy focus was drawn to his lips as he spewed curses and insults at you.

"why didn't you run away, you little shit," he had shouted, a feral look in his eyes. there was something different about him—a change in his very being that you could see even in the throes of death. "shoko's coming, do you hear me? for fuck's sake, keep your eyes open, hotshot!"

you swore you saw his eyes shine behind that look of uncontrolled anger. he had been talking a mile a minute and your focus had waned until you could only see his lips move, no sound reaching your ears.

you've never thought satoru looked more godly than he did at that moment.

suguru eventually found his way into your field of vision—knelt at satoru's side. his large hand had squeezed your limp fingers in a death grip. he was sweating, and his eyes were darting back and forth between your pale face and bloodied torso, something akin to guilt swimming in them. you wished that you had the strength in you to squeeze his hand in return. the last thing you remember seeing is his dark hair falling in front of his face as he turned to shout at whoever was approaching.

now you're awake. disoriented and bleary, but awake, and all you can look at is the way shoko's bangs fall over her furrowed brows. she's taken care of the bleeding, and now all that's left is a dull throbbing, reminding you of how close you had toed the line with death. you don't know this yet, but the scar will remain for the rest of your life, and that dull throbbing will be a permanent reminder of your narrow escape.

shoko hasn't said a word since she noticed your eyelids flutter open. you want to ask her so many things. important things that cannot wait:

where's satoru? how about suguru? i saw them both. satoru's alive, right? and suguru, too? the man—with the scar. where did he go? he said that satoru—riko….where is riko? and—and kuroi…i—i..couldn't save riko. when did you get here, shoko? and why am i the only one who's being taken care of by you?

you want to ask her. but she's making a very odd expression as her hands ghost over your body. you've never seen it before, this odd quirking of her lips. her teeth sink into the bottom one, and she chews and bites and nibbles like it's some kind of nervous tell.

"shoko?"

it's all you can manage to say—all you dare. your voice is dry, shaky, and sounds almost foreign to your ears. you're going to ask more, at least one of those thousand questions you had asked in your head earlier, but you don't get to because she speaks before you.

"shut up," she spits, and the wobble in her voice has you pinching your lips shut and feeling closer to death than you did before.

vii. acid rain

the sound of clapping is deafening. you don't think you've ever heard a sound so horrid in your life before, and you feel as though your ears are bleeding heavily. you can faintly make out the conversation between satoru and suguru, your ears struggling to pick out the tones of their voices.

"no…" you hear suguru say quietly. "it doesn't matter if I'm fine…"

you can feel satoru's eyes roam over your motionless body, watching the way you gaze out into the crowd impassively.

"let's get out of here, guys."

your feet carry you numbly, and you aren't aware of anything except the way riko's arm is swinging in front of you lifelessly. there are no mirrors around—no way of catching the track of tears cutting over your cheeks. the places where the salt touches burn like acid. you say nothing.

satoru's gaze feels intrusive. he doesn't need to ask you anything—he just knows. it's like your body is radiating the emotions tumbling around in your gut.

you're awfully sensitive for a jujutsu sorcerer, you know that?

"do you want to…kill them all?"

the question stuns you, and for the first time, you can shake yourself out of your daze to look at satoru directly. blood is smeared over the left side of his face, cerulean eyes dimmed, as though something had pulled the shine out of them. red seeps into the fine hairs of his restless eyebrows.

"right now, i probably wouldn't even feel anything," he continues, staring at you listlessly.

you think satoru might be feeling just as numb as you are. you don't know what happened to him yet. the last you had heard, gojo satoru had been killed by the man with the scar. he had boasted about it to you before he attempted to kill you too. but then satoru was at your side again, completely alive as he ran your battered body to shoko like a crazed man.

you'll find out later who the man with the scar on his lip was, and what kind of legacy he had left behind. but for right now, all you see is a teenager with the weight of the world on his shoulders, and you know your answer.

satoru could help the pain go away; he'd be able to make the clapping stop—maybe then your ears wouldn't bleed anymore. but you couldn't ask that of him.

"forget it. it's pointless," suguru mutters, and you're glad he's on the same page as you. not because any of these people deserve pity, but because satoru deserves a break—one less burden for him to carry.

you hear suguru say more, but you can't focus. you continue to listen to the sound of the clapping, and once again lose yourself as you stare at riko's bloodied fingertips.

"pointless, huh?" satoru mumbles in response to suguru's answer. "does there need to be a reason?"

"of course. it's important," suguru's voice doesn't carry the same pleasant tone it always does. instead, it sounds strained, and tired beyond belief. unsure. "especially as jujutsu sorcerers."

satoru doesn't respond, but you know that he's measuring the weight of his friend's words. that's how it was with the two of them. they both balance each other out—their moral compasses influenced by one another. but then you feel satoru look up from riko's body and turn to you. suguru follows suit, and before you can wonder why, it hits you: satoru had asked you both.

you suck a deep breath in, feeling unusually breathless. the flesh of your stomach tingles with a painful reminder of what might've been, and you make up your mind.

"killing them won't change anything," you say, breaking your silence. the tears on your cheeks have dried, but they leave a rigid trail in their wake—a trail that still stings. "let's just leave it at that."

viii. fever dreams

satoru lies next to you.

a few nights have passed since riko's death, and you've chosen to stay holed up in your room. you're not sure why—death has always played a big role in your life. you don't understand why it's different this time.

tonight is different as well. while you've maintained a distance from everyone since that day, save for classes and passing by people on school grounds, today you've decided to let someone in. satoru's the lucky one, mostly because he would've pestered you until you opened your door for him anyway.

it's strange though. he had knocked over and over, and when you finally opened up with a snappy jab at his annoying personality, he had brushed straight past you and laid across your bed. he hadn't said a word since then, and you've found yourself lying next to him in silence for quite a while.

his hand stretches out in the darkness and you can feel his fingertips brush over the skin of your arm. it's delicate, like he's testing his limits, but you understand. it's just to ground himself—to know that you're still here, with him. to be sure that you're still alive.

you think the scar that goes down your body bothers him a lot more than it bothers you.

"'m here," you mumble sleepily. your fingers reach up to bump against his knuckles, and you hear him inhale deeply. his voice is throaty when he replies.

"i know."

ix. doubt

satoru learns that you've never been kissed before and he teases you for it.

not in a mean way, but in a way that has your cheeks heating and your eyes avoiding his. suddenly it feels like the gap between ages 16 and 17 is huge. he's barely even a year older than you and you're in the same year, but it feels as though he knows so much more about the world than you do. you want to ask suguru if it's bad that you've never had a kiss, but you don't. suguru rarely talks these days. sometimes he'll have conversations with you but won't look in your eyes when he speaks.

"hey listen, hotshot. if you don't get a kiss by…" satoru hums, an eager smile on his face as he swings an arm around your shoulders and contemplates his words. "…let's say 27, then i'll give one to you!"

there's an odd note of glee in his voice.

"shut up, toru," you groan, heat flooding your cheeks. "quit joking around."

he laughs loudly, pulling your cheek teasingly. "aw, i'm just playing. it's not a bad thing i promise!"

your shoulders relax slightly as the snowy-haired sorcerer continues to speak.

"i just thought that you would've kissed someone by now," he shrugs. "wasn't there that one guy you went on a few dates with? the one you met when we went to yokohama?"

there's an almost sour expression on his face as he speaks, but you're too frustrated to care. "just because i went on a couple of dates with him doesn't mean i kissed him!"

a broad teasing smile appears on satoru's face. "is that so?"

"ugh, i'm only 16!" you hiss, shoving him away from you. "besides i'm saving it for someone special!"

"good," you hear suguru speak up, and you turn to look at him. his fingers are interlocked, elbows resting on his knees, and he's staring down at his hands like they hold the answers to some deep questions he has. "it is something irreplaceable after all."

x. shadow

satoru's grin is proud as he stands before the three of you, his loose shirt billowing in the summer breeze.

you stare at him, heart thumping as shoko lets out a confused gasp. "huh? what the hell was that?"

"did it automatically choose the target for your technique?" suguru asks.

"yep!" satoru stresses the word, spinning the pencil suguru had thrown as he explains. "though i am the target. i've pretty much automated what i used to have to do manually."

your head is spinning.

"now i can tell an object's danger levels based the strength of its cursed energy, its speed, mass, velocity, shape—whatever. i want to be able to discern poisons too but that's pretty hard right now." satoru's voice is even when he explains, though you can make out the hints of pride that permeate his tones. you think his voice has gotten a little deeper too. "basically this is gonna allow me to keep my limitless technique active all the time!"

"that's gonna fry your brain!" shoko interjects, shaking her hair out of her eyes.

"yeah but i can do it while i continuously generate energy on my own. that way my brain stays fresh."

you can't help but let out an amused scoff. "what brain?"

satoru chucks the eraser at you, and you laugh as it bounces off your shoulder harmlessly.

"i've been working on shortening my hand signals so i can activate red and blue simultaneously." he continues, lips twitching upward as he gives you an exaggerated glare. "after this the only things i need to work on are domain expansion and long-distance teleportation. which i should be able to do if we set up some training courses here at school."

you think if someone examined you closely, they would see the stars in your eyes when you look at satoru.

"shoko~" he calls out, grinning eagerly. "think you could get me some lab rats?"

shoko groans as satoru bounds over to pester her more emphatically. you watch him, thinking you've never seen a person quite so magnificent.

god personified into a 17-year-old body. and yet it is a body that stays so close to you—well within your reach. maybe there's nothing so godly about that at all.

"don't you get tired of getting stronger and stronger, jeez?" you complain, crossing your arms as you raise a brow at him. satoru wets his lips as he throws you a smug smile.

"don't worry hotshot, you'll catch up to me someday!" he gives you an exaggerated wink over the frames of his glasses, and you shake your head somewhat fondly.

"no way! i never want to be at your level," you huff. "i'm very comfortable living in your shadow, thank you very much!"

a strange look passes over his face, almost puzzled, but the dip in his brows melts away as he approaches you. "well—" he slings an arm over your shoulder. "if my shadow makes you happy then you're more than welcome to stay there."

you don't have time to reply. pale lashes flutter at you—a backdrop of cerulean. you think white and blue may be the prettiest combination of colors in the world.

"suguru?" satoru's voice is casual, yet the amusement has dropped from it. his arm is heavy around your shoulders. "have you lost weight? are you okay?"

you look up, seeing tired eyes behind dark stands of hair. suguru's cheekbones are prominent, and you have the sudden urge to reach out and trace your fingers over them.

his lips twitch upward weakly. "it's just the summer heat…"

his lavender eyes drift to your face as he says it, and he tilts his head as he scrutinizes your worried expression. "…i'll be fine."

xi. hellfire

you hear suguru before you see him.

his breaths come loud as he pushes the door to the morgue open, the metal clanging heavily. his eyes bore into your back, taking in your clenched fists and raised shoulders that seem to tremble.

you wonder who told suguru you'd be here. maybe nanami, who was here not long ago, and had sent you a text that merely said: the mission went badly.

or maybe it was satoru, who had been chatting with you near the entrance of campus when he saw the myriad of emotions pass over your face as you read the text. he had probably called suguru as soon as you left.

it doesn't matter—you can't bring yourself to care.

you can only think about the way haibara had smiled at you before he left that morning.

now that smile is covered by a dirty white sheet, and you can't tear your eyes away from it. the taste of blood and vomit is heavy on your tongue.

suguru says your name quietly. you can't even look at him—you're scared that you'll cry if you do.

you don't ever want to cry in front of him. or satoru—so weak in front of those who are so strong.

"he asked if i wanted to go with them and i said no because i was lazy," you hiss, teeth clenched as you spit out the words with venom. "if i had just stopped thinking about myself for a second—"

your fingers dig into the flesh of your palms—deep, deep, deeper.

you hear suguru click his tongue, and his hands wrap around yours. he yanks your fingers apart fiercely, thumbs smoothing over the bloodied indents you've made in your own skin. you tear your eyes away from the body to finally look at him.

"don't—" his breath catches as his thumbs still over your flesh, eyes going hard as he takes in the blood.

he blurs in and out of focus. his head whips up when he hears you sniffle, and his lips slant ruefully. "you—"

"i'm fine," you interrupt, blinking pointedly and taking a deep breath. "it's fine—i mean it's not fine—but i c—"

"stop." suguru grabs your shoulders, giving you an even stare. you don't know how you didn't notice it before, but he looks thinner, older. there are dark circles under his eyes—poison seeping into his skin. "you need to rest."

you stare back at him silently, but you don't feel like you agree. something about this is making you feel restless, like there is so much you need to make up for. his grip tightens, before he's wordlessly leading you to take a seat—he finds his place next to you.

"satoru took over the mission." he stares at the lifeless body on the table as he speaks. you lower your gaze.

"and nanami?" your throat feels like it's closing. suguru inhales deeply.

"he went back to the dorms."

"okay."

you try to figure out if there is any meaning in having this conversation. despite everything, weren't you expected to wake up tomorrow morning and head out on a mission once more? and when you return, you're sure that there'll be another faceless body taking haibara's place.

the cycle continues—clockwork. it scares you, just how replaceable you are.

haibara, nanami, you, another, nameless—interchangeable.

not like satoru. not like suguru. not like the strong.

you lean your head against suguru's shoulder, fingering the hem of your uniform skirt. the fabric is cool to the touch—it seems darker, heavier. heat radiates from the body next to you, and there's something about him that's making your stomach churn with nerves. "suguru?"

his voice sounds far away. "hm?"

"are you okay?"

he stiffens and you suddenly fear you've said too much—nosy, intruding, out of place. you stumble. "it's just, we haven't talked much lately."

"i'm fine," he answers, and you can hear a smile in his voice—whether it's real or fake you can't tell. "just a little tired."

you know there is truth to this. but it scares you, how this tiredness of his has lingered for months. you don't know how to tell him that.

"okay…" your voice is barely a whisper, heavy with unspoken words that you don't know how to formulate. somehow you find that silence has always been your only option.

but like usual, silence with suguru has never once been uncomfortable.

haibara's smile burns behind your eyelids.

"it should be a relatively simple mission. if you're not doing anything today senpai, would you like to come with us?"

his voice tickles your ears.

"that's alright! i'll get going then! oh right, today's mission is a little farther than usual, so we'll probably be back late! what would you like me to bring back for you?"

hypoxia crushes your lungs, your blood burns. selfish selfish selfish. you've only ever cared about yourself.

suguru's arm curls around your shoulder before you even realize you're crying. his palm is warm as it smooths over your hair, and all you can worry about tainting him with your ridiculous tears.

you don't ever want to burden him—just want to quietly live in his shadow.

"i don't—" you internally cringe at the throaty rasp of your voice, swiping a hand at your nose. "i shouldn't be so sensitive about—"

"it's not your fault." he quietly hushes you, grip tightening imperceptibly. through your tears you can see him adam's apple bob, and for some reason that makes you feel worse. you're too scared to look at his expression, even though his voice is resolute. "none of this is our fault."

something has changed in the way he speaks now. something has settled, a confirmation of some idea that has been brewing for a long time now.

you don't say another word, but somehow he manages to sear himself into your very being. he's warm, and fuzzy, and he smells like sandalwood and incense.

you don't know how long suguru let's you pathetically sob into his shoulder.

but you think you're embarrassed that he has taken pity on a wounded animal's cries.

xii. split

he looks different, but also the same. you've seen him wear that sweater before. it's plain black, no patterns, and you know that there's a loose string on the inside of the left sleeve that he was always too lazy to cut. you've always liked that sweater—always liked the way he looked in it.

you liked it so much that you've even stolen it a few times yourself.

but now it looks different. older and dirtier—as though soiled by some unknown curse.

that's what everything came down to, right? curses.

suguru stands in front of you, almost no trace of emotion on his handsome face, and his expression makes you want to turn and run. you miss the calm serenity that normally graced his features, wishing that you had some kind of cursed technique that could turn back time. but you aren't blessed like that—you wonder what sin you might've committed in a past life that made you so unlucky in this one.

"you look confused," he comments. you reel at how casually he speaks to you, like it's just another afternoon sitting under that stupid tree. like he's leaning his head back against the trunk and watching you and satoru bicker with that fond look in his eye.

"suguru," you speak, an odd strain in your voice. you struggle to comprehend this odd turn of events. you've had time to understand that he's now a different person than the one you once knew. you know that he's responsible for killing 112 innocents, including his own parents. you know that he's now an enemy to jujutsu society and you know that you should kill him right at this moment.

but he looks so much like suguru, like your suguru, that you can only manage to stand there, frozen in place. his eyes drift over your body, taking in your pajamas, the bath towel in your hands, and the small drops that trickle from your hair, and you can see the familiarity settle in his expression.

"why are you here?" you choke out. you feel an overwhelming sense of danger in your gut, knowing that your family is just a few rooms over from where he stands now.

"at your family home, you mean?" he asks casually. a small, almost amused smirk appears on his face. "you said i was always welcome."

you did say that. sometime last year or the year before, when you had invited satoru, suguru, and shoko over to visit during one of your quick holidays. suguru had sat across from you at your dinner table. he complimented the food and your father smiled one of his rare smiles. you had chewed quietly to hide your grin.

you don't know what to say to him now.

"everything they said about you," you whisper, taking a step toward him. he remains rooted in place, but his eyes follow your movements. they shift when he catches your fingers gripping your towel tighter. "is it true?"

"do you think it is?" he asks, and you gulp. it feels like he's baiting you into some kind of trap.

"i don't want to believe that it is," you answer, voice shaking. "that you would ever do something so…"

the sentence hangs in the air, and he tilts his head imperceptibly. something in his eyes changes as he focuses on the drops falling over your shoulders.

"well i'm sorry to squash your hope," he raises his arms in a shrug. "but everything you heard is completely true."

your head aches, but you're not surprised by his confirmation. "why would you…?"

suguru hums, a dark look falling over his face. "do you remember the conversation we had after haibara's funeral? do you remember what i told you when he died?"

anger flares in your gut at the mention of haibara, and the bath towel crumples in your hold. "don't say his name," you hiss through gritted teeth. "don't act like he's the reason—just…don't bring him into this. please."

suguru licks his lips, eyes going soft before he tries again.

"everything used to make sense back then," he sighs. "back when the strong existed to protect the weak. but it's not true."

"suguru—"

"the reason why we suffer is because of them," he interjects evenly, though frustration is clearly evident in the curve of his brows and the volume of his voice. "we clean up their messes. they create problems and we die for it."

you're stunned into silence, at the way he's raising his voice at you, at the way he's speaking so firmly about this horrible topic, at everything. he seems to realize the effect of his speech, and he quells his anger to speak quieter. "that's why i'm doing this. i'm going to create a world without non-sorcerers, so that sorcerers like you and i can live peacefully."

a lump forms in your throat because god, he's right. he's so right. your life would be a thousand times better without curses. non-sorcerers were the reason curses existed. but the way he's going about this…

"suguru," your voice shakes, but you press on. "i get it. i really do—"

"i know you do," he interrupts. "you always have. even back then…"

he takes a step closer to you, reaching out to finger the towel in your hands. "but you don't agree with the way i'm doing it, right?"

you bite your lip, and he smiles at the sadness in your expression. "you're so easy to read, hotshot."

you ignore the way the nickname stings. "i just—how could you kill innocent people like that? your own parents, suguru."

he looks away from you, steely resolve in his eyes. "if i made exceptions for my parents, that would kinda make me a hypocrite, wouldn't it?"

you don't know what to say to that. he doesn't seem to have anything else to add either.

he looks around your old bedroom, eyes sparkling as they catch a picture of the four of you from your first year. satoru's arm is slung around shoko. the dark-haired female has her elbow resting on your shoulder, her tongue sticking out playfully. you're clinging to suguru's arm, and satoru's free hand is squishing your cheeks together. the four of you are laughing.

nobody has laughed in a while now.

you tear your gaze away from the picture frame to look at him. he's so unbelievably close, and he's gazing down at you with this foreign look in his eyes, the picture forgotten behind him.

he slips his fingers into your hair. his palm is large enough that it can brush the side of your face, and you wonder why your body doesn't flinch away from those bloodstained hands.

"it's okay," he mumbles, a faraway look in his eyes. they remain trained on your hair, but it feels like he's looking straight through you. like you're nothing more than a ghost he wants to erase. he's so close—you can count his dark lashes as they brush against his cheeks. "it's difficult. i don't expect you to understand."

his words incite a sudden flare of anger in your gut. it burns something fierce, and in that moment you hate him.

"no, i don't," you reply indignantly. he pauses, now really looking at you, and his brows quirk upward in what seems to be surprise, because—well, he's never seen you make such an expression at him before. "you never tried to help me understand. you just left."

a strained silence follows. his fingers twitch against your cheek.

"this doesn't concern you," he says finally. "i don't need you to understand my actions."

you recoil, as though he's physically hurt you, and your expression falls so hard that it almost makes him regret saying it. almost.

"if it doesn't concern me, then why are you here?" you ask again, and you see suguru's shoulders drop. "you know that i have orders to kill you. i might not be able to because you've always been stronger than me. but you know that i'll…"

go down fighting you, is what you want to say, but the words leave a nasty taste in your mouth. but suguru seems to know what you're implying because a wry smile appears on his lips. his fingers twirl a strand of your wet hair.

"i'm here to say goodbye," he says finally. another tense silence fills the space between you both, and suguru can see the way your fingers shake between the folds of your towel.

"you're a little bit late for that, aren't you?" you choke out, a strange tilt to your voice as you break eye contact with him. "you left school weeks ago, and you didn't say a word to me then."

"better late than never, right?"

the softness in his tone makes you turn to look at him again, and you desperately want to ingrain the features of his face into your head. the gentle slope of his eyes and sweetness of his smile. he almost looks like the suguru you once knew, and you suddenly have the urge to mourn his death.

his face becomes blurry, the edges becoming less pronounced, and you can see the way his expression falls.

"i didn't come all the way here to make you cry." his hand drops from your face and he takes a step back. your fingers hurry to wipe at your waterline, and you shake your head.

"'m not crying."

suguru smiles ruefully, and his eyes suddenly look devoid of life. he takes another step back—your heart plummets.

he says your name once, quietly, and it hangs in the air as you wait for him to say more.

he doesn't.

"you know that I'm not supposed to let you leave alive, right?" you mumble, fingers toying with the towel in your hand. "but i can't—i mean—"

"hm," he chuckles. "still as sensitive as ever, huh? s'okay…"

he moves toward you again and his hand gently cups the back of your neck. "i think it's your best quality. makes you better than most people in our world."

he presses his lips to your forehead tenderly, and you feel your eyes widen behind your tears.

you probably could've stopped him, because you're aware that he's now suddenly behind you, and that he's raising his hand. you can stop him, but a part of you thinks that if it's death at suguru's hands, maybe it's not such a bad way to go.

you accept your fate then and there.

you'll find out later that suguru never had the intention to kill you then. perhaps he was waiting for a more opportune time, waiting for there to be a meaning behind it. you're not sure. but when you wake up tucked in your bed cozily, you'll feel the remnants of him lingering around you.

he was warm, and fuzzy, and he smelled like sandalwood and incense.

xiii. sanctify

satoru's at your door again.

you've memorized his knock patterns. he always knocks three times, then leaves a pause, then twice more. for someone so erratic, he can be quite predictable.

"what's up, satoru?" you call out, not looking up from your busy hands. there are a couple of empty cardboard boxes open on your bed, and you've been placing things into them all morning. things that should've been put away a long time ago. you pause on one of your old test papers, and in suguru's dark, blocky handwriting you read:

YOU GOTTA STUDY MORE DUMBASS.

underneath it, satoru had scrawled:

hotshot failing class now huh? :P

and shoko had added:

both of you stfu you're failing too

you had drawn a heart next to her name.

"whatcha doin'?" a familiar voice chirps. "spring cleaning?"

satoru stands directly behind you, peering over your shoulder. you can practically feel his aura shift when he notices the items you're putting away.

"cleaning of some sort," you sigh, before turning to look over your shoulder. "i've been…putting it off."

he doesn't move—just continues to stare down at the paper in your hands. you think maybe you shouldn't have let him in. sometimes you forget that satoru might have his own sensitivities—you've always viewed him as the strongest.

a few strands of his hair tickle your cheek, and you scrunch your nose in response. he then turns to you, eyes blinding as he studies you over the frames of his shades.

"want help?"

"please." you don't intend to sound so needy, but the way you whisper the word has him immediately grabbing your wrist and sitting you down next to him on the bed.

"how are we sorting this stuff?" he asks, his voice oddly calm. he hasn't let go of your arm yet, and some quiet part of you is grateful.

"i was putting our old school stuff in that box. books, papers…" you answer softly, and satoru nods in understanding. "and in the other box…"

you inhale deeply through your nose. satoru waits, strangely patient. you're not sure if you're imagining it, but you think he squeezes your wrist.

"…are all of suguru's things."

there's a moment of silence—a quick mourning for what is no longer there.

"it's stupid stuff that he left behind, you know?" you chuckle, even though nothing is funny. "some old shirts from when you two would sleep over, his old textbooks, a few pictures from our holidays—shit like that."

satoru hums. he's not looking at you—instead he's staring at the box, a frown on his face.

"i guess he didn't really need those things for where he was going. or for wherever he is now," you mumble.

"guess not."

you're not sure what's going through his head. satoru's reaction to suguru leaving had been chaotic at best. it was so hard to tell how he felt about it. you knew he was angry, confused, betrayed. but he never showed things like that. you think it might have to do with being the strongest. you're not sure though—you never were strong like him.

you wish there was a way to tell him that he could share his feelings with you, but you can't think of a way that won't be awkward.

a ticklish sensation crawls up your wrist and you look down to watch satoru's first two fingers tap against the inside of your palm. his thumb brushes against yours as he lets out a heavy exhale.

"let's get started then, hotshot."

he looks down at you as he says the words, and you think you might cry. but you want to be strong, like him, so you offer him a smile. he gives you one in return. you realize there isn't that much warmth in it, not like it used to have—you're sure that yours isn't that warm either.

but it's enough for the two of you.

"you look tired, toru," you chuckle wryly, reaching up to brush a few strands of hair from his face. his eyes flutter at the touch, and you honestly think this might be the most vulnerable you've ever seen him.

"so do you."

"i am," you admit honestly.

"'s okay," he mumbles. his fingers tap against your palm once more. "'m here."

"i know," you answer. you always are.

nothing more is said as satoru stands up. he makes his way over to your desk and pulls one of suguru's old sweaters from your chair. you watch him fold it neatly, smoothing out the creases with care, before placing it into the box—you smile once more.

you think the scent of sandalwood tickles your nose, but it's gone in an instant.

both of you work in relative silence, sorting through the things in your room quickly. you're surprised at how bare it looks as you're nearing the end, as though there's nothing more to your life than old high school recollections.

you finish putting the last few polaroids into the box when satoru speaks up.

"hey."

you look up and find him staring at you, so you turn to face him completely, giving him your full attention.

"zenin toji—" the name sends a painful tingle up your body. "—left something behind."

you frown. "what are you talking about?"

"a kid. he's got a kid. and i was gonna go meet him today," satoru shrugs. you try to read his emotions, but as usual, he's giving you nothing. "the old man said something about the zenin clan buying up his kid before i killed him. i was gonna go see if there's something i could do about that."

you sigh before raising a brow, an amused lilt to your voice. "and why have you kept this a secret?"

satoru's trademark smirk appears, and he walks over to sling an arm around your shoulders. "who knows?" he quips nonchalantly. "guess i was waiting until we were bored. we need something to do now, don't we?"

you glance at the packed boxes on your bed, and then look around your empty room. everything is always changing, but satoru is constant.

"i guess so," you grin. his eyes shine, and for a second you see a familiar teenager at the beach, and then a familiar teenager under an old tree. you think you hear waves, and the crinkling of a bag of chips.

"good," he chirps, walking you to the door, the arm around your shoulder secure. "his name's megumi, and we're gonna make sure he gets strong."

xiv. idyll

it takes you a little over four months to get used to megumi's eyes. they aren't unsettling or invading, like a certain snowy haired sorcerer, but they do give you chills when you first notice them. chills and a fleeting feeling of metal slicing up and down through your flesh. you just have to steady your breathing and remind yourself that the son is not the father.

tsumiki is an angel. you didn't think that kids that age could be so emotionally competent, but she's a pleasant surprise. she had been awfully protective over megumi, fidgeting with a firm hand on his shoulder as you and satoru invaded their space and upturned their lives. even after they had settled into the humble apartment satoru had purchased, tsumiki was still so overly cautious. it was obvious she still didn't trust either of you, but you thought it was admirable of her, and you relay this thought to satoru one day.

"think they hate us?" he asks, squishing his cheeks between his lithe fingers as he eyes the different milk cartons over the rims of his glasses.

"i'm pretty sure they just don't trust us that much," you reply, placing a few packs of instant ramen into the cart. "can you blame them? we're just random strangers who came up and basically kidnapped them."

"i'd like to say adopted!" he points out with a grin, before he sighs. "but we've already proved we're just doing this to help them. but they still barely talk at all."

"they're just being careful. megumi's still a little young and he looks like he doesn't give a shit about most stuff anyway," you chuckle as you remember the expression on the first grader's face as he spoke to your cocky friend. "and tsumiki's being cautious for both of them."

"she doesn't need to be cautious of us!" satoru dramatically whines, pulling out a carton of whole milk and placing it into the cart. you shiver as the cold air hits your skin, eyeing the sorcerer with an exasperated smile. he shuts the door with a huff. "i've been such a good dad!"

you roll your eyes, shoving his arm as he starts pushing the cart down the aisle. "she definitely should be cautious of you, you creep."

satoru looks down over his shoulder, appalled, though his eyes sparkle with mirth. "and why do you say that?"

"have you seen yourself? crazy 19 year old man that kidnaps kids," you mutter somewhat sarcastically, falling into step with him like it's normal. satoru grins at that—amused.

"i think it's pretty cool of her to be that responsible though," you continue, voice going softer as you think about them, and satoru hums in what you think might be agreement. you suddenly grab his arm, stopping him in his tracks and he turns to look at you.

"you think we should get another carton of milk?" you question, tilting your head at him. "megumi's been drinking it every day after he comes back from school and tsumiki said she wanted to try making milkshakes."

satoru blinks at you, eyes widening before an amused chuckle escapes his lips. you're about to ask what is so funny but he gestures back down the aisle. "go get some."

he waits for you as you go grab another carton, leaning against the cart easily. when you make it back and place the extra milk in the cart, satoru slings an arm around your shoulders. you raise a brow, but he just continues to push the cart with his free hand and says nothing.

so you don't say anything either.

the two of you continue shopping, trying to remember the things you've noticed the kids enjoying because you know they'll be too uncomfortable to outrightly request them. for every sweet snack satoru puts into the cart, you add something that can pass as somewhat healthy, and he hides a teasing grin behind his fist each time.

when you're almost done, satoru motions to the shelves of snacks, raising a brow at you. "what do you need, hotshot?"

you look up from where you're analyzing the contents of the cart. "hm? oh i don't wanna buy anything for myself. i'm good with the stuff i have back at the dorm."

"great," he shrugs with a subtle shake of his head. "except you're not buying anything this time, i am. so pick something."

"what?" you frown, walking over to him. "we're supposed to split groceries for the kids."

"we can split next time." satoru rolls his eyes at you, as though annoyed by your insistence. "i just got paid yesterday and i wanna waste money. pick something."

you groan. "but there really isn't anything i want. if you're gonna pay yourself then let's just go. i think this is good enough."

satoru looks unamused, his eyes boring into yours—bright, dominating, mesmerizing. "oh really? nothing you want?"

you stare at him in confusion as he walks over to the frozen section and opens the door. after a few seconds of rummaging, he pulls out a box. "not even this?"

your shoulders drop. he's holding a tub of strawberry ice cream.

he casually places it into the cart, eyes trained on your expression as he bends down. "it's your favorite, isn't it?"

your voice comes out throaty, and you wet your lips nervously—his eyes follow the movement at lightning speed. "how'd you know?"

satoru scoffs out a haughty chuckle, reaching up to knock a knuckle at your forehead—it's cold. "i know everything about you, hotshot."

he moves to grip at the cart's handle, standing close enough that you can feel the energy radiating off of him. the side of his hand touches yours, still cold. "now we can go."

he sticks by your side, pushing the cart towards the counters as he casually looks around the store. you briefly realize that his shadow doesn't cover you when you're at his side like this. the thought both scares you and pleases you in a way you didn't think was possible.

"thanks toru," you mumble before you can stop yourself. his gives you a sidelong glance—assessing.

his lips twitch. "it's just ice cream."

"no, it's a lot more than that." you're not really sure why you say it so tragically, and satoru inhales sharply. you notice that his knuckles have turned white as he grips the cart's handles. once again, his eyes dart rapidly over your face—between your eyes and then further down.

then he lets out a hushed laugh, nudging your shoulder with his. "as long as you share with me, hotshot."

everything is always changing, but satoru is constant.

you can't help but smile. "always."

you two don't say much as you head to the counter, taking turns placing all the items on the belt. you quietly watch satoru dig into his wallet, feeling oddly content doing so. you think the stars in your eyes will never disappear.

the clerk eyes you both, and suppresses a fond grin. with your close proximity, shared cart, and satoru's easy going smile, you realize that she's probably misunderstanding, but you don't really know how to correct her. satoru says nothing—he just continues smiling, oddly pleased.

he smiles all the way to the car. you catch yourself doing the same in the rear view mirror.

xv. retribution

the first thing you notice when you kneel in front of suguru is that he's bleeding all over the place. you have the strongest urge to scramble and grip his fingers tightly, just as he had done for you so many years ago—but you don't dare. you're too scared that touching him will ruin you completely.

he says your name quietly, and yet it's the loudest thing in the universe to you—crashing over your ears until you've lost all sense of self.

and then he leans forward, his gaze heavy, and his hand comes up to tangle in your hair. his palm rests on the side of your face just like it did when he visited you at your family home. the last time you saw your geto suguru.

except this time he moves further—crosses a line. presses his lips to yours.

he tastes like blood. you don't pull away.

the feeling of his lips shocks you though, and you stay permanently frozen in place as you feel your eyes glaze over with something you can't put into words.

suguru kisses you slowly, deeply, like he's been waiting but wants to savor it. maybe you've been waiting too. you're not sure. you're so confused.

you don't even process the way his tongue slips past your lips, tasting almost eagerly like your mouth is some kind of conquest he's trying to claim.

it's intrusive, but not unwelcome. slow, but not gentle.

you whimper quietly, feeling acid sting down your cheek as he pulls away and his eyes flutter open. he takes in your expression, and a million emotions pass over his face.

a quiet chuckle. "that bad, huh?"

you shake yourself out of it and try to push away the flush creeping up your neck. "w-what?"

"you're crying," he announces, his furrowed eyebrows paired with a sweet smile that makes him look so unbelievably tragic. "the kiss was that bad?"

your face burns, and you raise a shaking hand up to your cheek—it's wet.

"it wasn't—i didn't—" you struggle. "i mean—"

he smiles ruefully. "i'm sorry. you were saving it for someone special, right?"

there's a charged silence that follows as you scour your brain for the conversation he's referencing. when you find it, your heart sinks.

"you've always been special to me, suguru." your voice comes out quiet, but he hears it all the same. his eyes widen fractionally and you can see a light pink dust his cheeks before he laughs. it's soft, hushed, and looks like it's painful, but he lets it run its course.

it reminds you of a laugh from so long ago, at a beach, with childish screams echoing against the sound of waves. you think you can feel strawberry ice cream dripping down your wrist.

his laughs die down and he's left smiling softly at you. his lavender eyes sparkle with mirth as he tilts his head. "i'm glad. that you were the one i gave a room to."

you can hear waves in your ears, crashing crashing drowning. sand is in your hands, in between your toes, in your eyes.

he coughs, and his palm shakes against your cheek. you wonder why he doesn't just let go already dammit suguru.

you inhale sharply, trying so hard to breathe because what is that stupid thing that's clogging your throat and preventing you from speaking? there's so much you have to say to him. so many questions. so many things left unsaid. your words are failing you.

but silence with suguru has never once been uncomfortable, right?

you raise a shaky hand to press against his where it lays against your neck. "do you regret it?"

he licks his lips, smiling faintly, as though he's enjoying the new taste of you on them. "no."

"why not?" you whisper. your body unconsciously shuffles closer to him, chasing his warmth because gods is he warm. he's always been so warm, even now, in the throes of death.

"my feelings are still the same. i still hate the monkeys for everything they've done, all the crap they cause." he shuts his eyes, smiling that serene smile. you wish he was leaning against a tree trunk. "i still have no resentment to those at jujutsu tech. and you, i still…"

he doesn't continue. you don't think you want him to. there's a flush crawling up his neck, the faint pink a stark contrast to the red of blood. it makes you nauseous.

another deep inhale, and his thumb slides over your jawbone, before brushing under your bottom lip. he stares at the flesh heavily, letting his finger press into it. his tongue swipes over his own lips, eyes darkening further.

and then something shifts in his face, and he smiles mirthlessly. his hand drops from your face—broken contact.

he doesn't tear his gaze away from you, committing your face to memory. it's almost like he wants to say something, but decides against it at the last minute as he slumps further into the wall behind him and shuts his eyes.

when he speaks again, you know that it is all over.

"you're late, satoru."

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with-my-calamitous-love · 10 days

Text

KISS ME IN A WAY THATS GONNA SCREW ME UP FOREVER

rockstar! chuuya nakahara x pop star! reader

after acting in a music video of his right after a breakup, the media has many speculations about you two.

part 1/3

inspired by suburban legends

once the flight had flown, your feet touched down on the new, big city. it was a kaleidoscope of loud heartbeats, hidden underneath the fabric of fashion trends of large coats. the world in this corner smelled like want.

you weaved your way through the crowd before finally reaching the studio. you open the door, unpack your things with a hug and kiss to your manager, before finally seeing him.

chuuya nakahara was perhaps the most famous man in the world right now. a deep, gravelly voice with hands that slid across his guitar like skates on ice. he was the living, breathing definition of the word heartthrob.

right now, he’s tuning his guitar, his messy orange hair tied into a cute messy bun. he’s concentrated, the fabric of his black muscle shirt clinging to his obviously well toned muscles. you know you’re staring, but you can’t help it. and its not even just because he’s famous and talented.

you had been making a name for yourself in the music industry. slowly but surely, the name [Y/N] [L/N], the world’s new pop princess! had been making headlines. the general public considered you a sweetheart, with your fresh-faced beauty and edge paving the way for new found fame. the paparazzi adored your voice and your lyrics. you had only begun your receive the recognition you deserve.

upon winning best new artist at the vma’s, your song feather garnered billions of listeners. but perhaps the most shocking of them all, was gaining the attention of the one and only chuuya nakahara.

and thats how you ended up here. standing face to face with the embodiment of every women’s dream man.

“hey, [y/n].” he greets you, his sultry voice breaking through the mist of your fantastical mind. you snap out of it with an awkward laugh and a firm (but surely sweaty) handshake. he brushes it off, giving you a wink and thanking you for coming all this way.

“i love your studio.” you manage to compliment the rockstar despite your winded state. he hums a thank you, walking you towards the stage. his team works diligently, and you swear you can feel all his gratitude towards them. everyone in first name, high fave and shitty joke basis with each other. it was hard not to feel like an outsider.

“i don’t know if michizou gave you the run down on the video.. which he should have!” chuuya playfully jabs at his producer and good friend, who was currently fixing up the stage lights and blowing fat raspberries back at his boss. “basically, its for my new single. you’ll be playing my girlfriend.”

you wish you could hide the embarrassing scarlet tinge that blooms onto your cheeks at the mention of girlfriend. he seems so nonchalant, so casual about being so intimate.

once he’s distracted, your whisked away by a beautiful girl with a short black bob. her butterfly clip hung loosely just beside her bangs. she was the one person here who didn’t make you feel like a complete stranger on the outside looking in.

“hi, [y/n]! i’m yosano, i’ll just be doing your makeup.” she hums, and you happily take refuge in her cozy dressing room. the two of you hit it off almost immediately, allowing you to get your nerves out. however, something comes up that throws you off your game.

✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚

“oh and.. i guess, someone should tell you, honey.” she says, making your eyeliner as sharp as humanly possible. “chuuya’s been… he’s having a hard time. a bad breakup.”

this information churns in your stomach. “how long ago..?”

“3 weeks ago, give or take.” yosano explains, applying the setting powder. on one hand, you were thankful someone had warned you. but on the other, it made you nervous that you would be playing a romantic partner to someone who had just gotten their heart broken.

“why did they break up?” you ask, cautiously looking over at yourself in the mirror to make sure you were hiding your anxiety well enough.

“i don’t know… the rockstar over there never really talked about it.” yosano huffs, sitting on the counter to get a better angle at applying your lip liner. “all i know is… he hates betrayal more than anything now.”

a million thoughts run through your head. who? when? why? but most of all, who in their right mind would cheat on chuuya nakahara?

but you lost all the time for your nervousness. next thing you know, yosano is rushing you onto the set with words of encouragement. there, you meet chuuya, who’s been waiting for you.

the first scene is simple. just two people dancing in the living room set.

he walks over to you, placing his hands on your hips like its second nature. he chuckles at your nervousness, the way you tense up as you instinctively place your hands on his chest.

“what? don’t know how to dance, doll?” he teases, that shit-eating smirk on his face.

“uhm… no.” you admit, sheepishly.

he looks surprised, before a genuine smile reappears on his face again. “thats okay, just follow my lead.”

and with that, you two start swaying. he takes the lead, using his body to direct your movements. and for the first time in your career, maybe ever, you actually feel comfortable. you gain your fluidity back, dancing with chuuya in a way that words couldn’t explain. like two figures in a snow globe, you acted out a miniature expression of love thaf spoke volumes.

the rest of the filming process goes on smoothly, your favourite of the bunch being the kitchen scene. chuuya washes dishes while you snuggle up to him from behind, the overflowing of the sink being unscripted but ultimately charming enough to keep in.

finally, it was the scene you were most nervous about. the infamous kiss scene, and the segment yosano had failed to warn you about.

“i’ll say this again.” chuuya says, his voice in a hush tone. “i am not gonna make you this, doll.”

you’re nervous to kiss him, but the thought of turning him down felt like a complete loss.

so you bite your lip, and give chuuya the greenlight.

“three…two…one… ACTION!”

the camera pans in a circle around the two of you, capturing every small detail. the moment he cups your face, the moment you lock eyes… before finally, you two kiss.

and its the kind of kiss that saves you and that screws you up forever. that day, chuuya nakahara kissed you like the most gorgeous rose you had ever hoped to pick, with a million thorns sticking out from the side.

it was as though just front that simple contact, you knew the kind of guy he was. a gentleman, a man polite too a fault. time seems to stop even as you two pull away. you honestly consider breaking your own heart so you can move on from the love of your life (aka the famous man you met just a few hours ago.)

“thats a wrap!” tachihara announces as the team celebrates. this song, though you hadn’t heard it yet, was sure to be a hit. and chuuya assures that the music video will bring so much of the spotlight you deserve.

after that, the team breaks with some cake and beer. you, however, sneak off to the balcony, getting some much needed fresh air. you’re almost granted the moment of peace you craved when suddenly, someone addresses you.

“hey pop star.” chuuya says, walking up behind you and offering you a beer. when you politely accept, he stares out at the city-scanning sunset. finally, you two were alone, away from the editors and cameras.

you ask whats been on your mind since the beginning.

“…what song was this for again?” you nervously ask.

chuuya lets out a hearty laugh, enamoured by your sincerity. he digresses, opting to take you to the rooftop instead. there, he picks up his guitar and begins playing a few notes. it seemed like such a douchebag move, but if it was, you loved douchebags.

“can i tell you a secret?” he asks, strumming the acoustic strings with calculated talent. you nod, fiddling with your fingers.

“..i don’t really have a title for it yet.” he chuckles. now its your turn to laugh at him, and he takes it.

“why’s that, rockstar?” you ask, sipping your beer.

chuuya ponders for a moment, his eyes never leaving his guitar. he shrugs, continuing to serenade you. a thought crosses your mind.

“why’d you choose me, anyway?”

though he can’t think of a song title, he seems to know the answer to that question.

“cause you’ve got edge, and talent.” he says. “the industries gonna want to ruin you. you can’t let that happen, alright?”

you nod apprehensively. you’ve heard the whispers, how female stars were held up to a higher standard. how one wrong move, one hair out of place, or one breath too loud could cost you your career. hearing it from an established star made your hands shake.

maybe this would screw you up forever.

✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚

[chuuyaheartz]: new MV is out!! starring [y/n] [l/n]

[soukkvo]: pov me replaying the kiss scene:

[lovechna]: idk who i’d wanna be more 😍😍

[asagir1]: wait wtf he like just broke up with higuchi… don’t you think its a little soon??

[chzai09]: they’re my roman empire

new star [Y/N] [L/N] kisses chuuya nakahara and new music video!

who is [Y/N] [L/N]? meet the new pop princess:

[Y/N] [L/N] is chuuya’s new girlfriend? heres whats happening:

#[Y/N] [L/N] trending

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mommypieck · 1 year

Text

grass is getting greener

✯⁠ lawn mower!jean x reader

✯⁠ warnings: cheating (r on husband), rough, almost mind break, creampie, doggy, jean has big ego

"Daddy bought you this house?" Jean - your lawn maintenance asks you. Your first instinct is to roll your eyes, he's been helping you with the grass for a few weeks now, and he always keeps his shitty attitude.

"No, husband," you answer, wrapping yourself into a robe even deeper. It's hot as hell out, but you don't want some guy to see you in your swimming suit.

"I only talk to him on the phone. He's rarely in here?" It's your husband's fault for not being home when the workers are around. Basically, he´s never home. You always have to settle for a glass of wine by yourself or your vibrator, which is starting to break by the number of times you have used it.

"Don't assume he is a bad husband just because he isn't here." The sentence makes him laugh out loud. Do you think he might fuck you? he wanted to be good, but after you said that, he might change his behavior.

"I like your attitude," he says, looking up and down your body. You're seriously very pretty, you might want someone to fuck it out of you."

Your eyes widen at what he said. "Excuse me?" you ask him, standing up from your chair. You can't believe he would say something like that.

"I said you might want someone to fuck it out of you."

"Does he know how to fuck like that, huh?" he smacks your ass, ramming inside of you even harder. Each of his thrusts knocks the wind right out of your lungs. This guy has a talented dick for sure.

He wishes to see you from behind, he's not gonna lie, you have a pretty face, and those tits are amazing. He can see how they swing with each thrust, and Jean wants to see them up closer.

"I fucking love this pussy, look at how much you cream on my cock." he looks down at the white ring at the base of his cock. Of course, you would get this wet for him. he groans when he hears the wet sound your pussy makes now and then. It sucks him in so tightly, he might think you want him to be inside of you forever.

"how long has it been since he fucked you?" he asks you, but you're too overstimulated to answer. Your head falls on the ground, cheek pressed against the cold tiles. He isn't having any of what.

"Answer me." he grabs you by your hair, wrapping his arm around your neck to keep you up.

"8 months." You manage to choke out. He laughs at your response, his lips pressing against your neck. You scream when he bites the side of your neck playfully.

Jean knows you're seconds before cumming and seconds before he breaks you.

"Brace yourself." You are confused about what he means until he slams inside way harder than before. He lets go of your body, which falls on the floor. He presses your head into the floor as he abuses your cunt the best he can. He's chasing his orgasm too but is waiting for you to cum first.

You're so close, you can feel the burning desire rushing through your veins.

"I'm cumming." you squeak, letting all the pleasure out. He slips out of you when your body falls to the ground, shaking. It's the most powerful orgasm you have had in a while. You lay down on the floor, breathing hard as you try to recover from the mind-blowing orgasm.

"I'm not done with you," Jean says before you're yanked by your ass. He slides his cock inside of you one more time. He needs a little more, just a few thrusts. A loud moan escapes him as spurts of his cum fill your insides. Your pussy was the best one he had in a while.

"Was I too rough?" he asks you as he pulls out. You both look at the cum that leeks out of you with a smile.

"It was fine, but you almost broke me," you tell him. you both sit next to each other on the cold floor, thinking about what just happened.

"I'm Jean, you know my name already." he introduces himself, holding out his hand. You chuckle at his dorkiness, of course, you know his name.

"I'm y/n." Your hand shakes his as both of you stare at each other.

"Let's get to know each other better, y/n. Even though I have an idea of what you might like."

that fucker.

#aot x reader #aot smut #attack on titan smut #aot headcanons #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan x you #jean kirschtein imagine #jean kirschtein smut #jean kirschtein x reader #jean kirstein x reader #jean kirstein smut #jean kirstein x you

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bobacupcake · 1 year

Note

Can you do one about the Sea of Thieves water?

so . there was a biiig long talk about this at siggraph one year!! you can watch that here if you'd like . in the time between me getting this ask and me fully recreating the water, acerola also released a great video about it . the biiig underlying thing they do and the reason why it looks so good is they are making a Really Detailed Ocean Mesh in realtime using something called an FFT (fast fourier transform) to simulate hundreds of thousands of waves, based on a paper by TESSENDORF

WHAT IS AN FFT - we'll get to that. first we have to talk about the DFT - the discreet fourier transform. let's say you have a SOUND. it is a c chord - a C, an E, and a G, being played at the same time. all sounds are waves!!! so when you play multiple sounds at the same time, those waves combine!!! like here: the top is all 3 notes playing together, so they form the waveform at the bottom!!

now if someone handed you the bottom wave, could you figure out each individual note that was being played? how about if someone handed you a wave of One Hundred Notes. you would think it would be very hard. and well, it would be, if not for the Discreet Fourier Transform.

essentially, there is a way to take a bunch of points on a waveform comprised of a bunch of different waves, add them all together, do some messed up stuff with imaginary numbers, that will spit back out at you what individual waves are present. i made a little test program at the start of all this: the left are the waves i am putting into my Big Waveform, the top right is what that ends up looking like, and all the little rainbow points on it are being sampled to spit out the graph at the bottom right: it shows which frequency bands the DFT is finding (here it is animated)

this has enormous use cases in anything that deals with audio and image processing, and also,

THE OCEAN

tessendorf is basically like, hey, People Who Are Good At The Ocean say that a buuuunch of sine waves do a pretty good job of approximating what it looks like. and by a bunch they mean like, hundreds of thousands to millions. oh no.... if only there was a way we could easily deal with millions of sine waves..........

well GREAT news. not only can you do the DFT in one direction, but you can also do it in REVERSE. if you were to be given the frequency graph of a noise for example, you could use an INVERSE DFT to calculate what the combined wave graph looks like at any given time. so if you were to have say, the frequency graph of an oceaaaan, for example, you could calculate what the Ocean wave looks like at any given time. and lucky for us, it works in two dimensions. and thats the foundation of the simulation !!!!!

BUT WAIT

as incredible as the DFT is, it doesn't scale very well. the more times you have to do it, the slower it gets, exponentially, and we are working with potentially millions of sine waves here

THE FAST FOURIER TRANSFORM here we are . the fast fourier transform is a way of doing the discreet fourier transform, except, well, fast. i am Not going to explain the intricacies of it because its very complex, but if you want to learn more there are a ton of good 30 minute long videos on youtube about it . but essentially, due to the nature of sine waves repeating, you can borrow values as you go, and make the calculation Much faster (from exponential growth to logarithmic growth which is much much slower, and scales very well at higher numbers). it's, complicated, but the important part is it's so much faster and the diagram kind of looks like the shadow the hedgehog story plot

so if we use the inverse FFT on a graph of a rough estimate of what frequency of waves in the ocean (called a spectrum, basically tells us things like how many small waves, how many big waves, how different waves follow the wind direction. sea of thieves uses one called the phillips spectrum but there are better ones out there!!) now we have our waves !!!!!!! we can also use another inverse FFT to get the normals of the waves, and horizontal displacement of the waves (sharpening peaks and broadening valleys) through some derivatives . yayy calculus

OK MATH IS OVER. WE HAVE OUR WAVES!!! they are solid pink and look like pepto bismol. WHAT NOW

i cheated a bit here they look better than not being shaded because i am using the normals to reflect a CUBEMAP to make it look shiny. i think sea of thieves does this too but they didnt mention it in their talk. they did mention a FEW THINGS THEY DID THOUGH

FIRST OFF - SUBSURFACE SCATTERING. this is where the sun pokes through since water is translucent. SSS IS REALLY EXPENSIVE !!!!!! so they just faked it. do you remember the wave sharpening displacement i mentioned earlier? they just take the value where the waves are being sharpened and this will pretty naturally show off the areas that should have subsurface scattering (the sides of waves). they make it shine through any time you are looking towards the sun. they also add a bit of specular ! sss here is that nice blue color, and specular is the shiny bits coming off the sun. the rest of the lighting is the cubemap i mentioned earlier, i dont know if thats what they use but it looks nice !!!!!

then the other big thing that they do is the FOAM !! sorry i lied. there's more math. last one. you remember the wave sharpening displacement i Just mentioned. well they used that to find something called the JACOBIAN and well im not even going to begin to try and explain what it means but functionally what it does, is when the jacobian is NEGATIVE it means waves are clipping into eachother. and that means we should draw some foam!!! we can also blur and fade out the foam texture over time and continuously write to it to give it some movement, and bias this value a bit to make more or less foam. they do both of these!!!

YAYYYYY !! OK !! THAT'S SEA OF THIEVES WATER!!!!! THANKS FOR WAITING ALL THIS TIME. you can see my journey here if you would like to i have tagged it all oceanquest2023

thank you everyone for joining me :) i had fun

#ask #potion of answers your question #randomentalist #gamedev stuff #long post #oceanquest2023

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biggestsimponhere · 4 months

Text

Guilty as sin?

➻ Synopsis: Reader has been fantasizing about regulus

➻ CW: Smut, unprotected p in v, oral (f!recieving), masturbation

➻ Requests are always welcome!!!

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

he’s a paradox, i’m seeing visions am i bad? or mad? or wise?

Regulus Black. Arguably the most attractive guy in school. At least.. he is to you. You sit at your table in the great hall trying to focus on whatever it is your friends are talking about but you can’t. He’s sitting, laughing with his friends. He’s only one table over but he has some sort of hold on you.

“Y/n? Are you even listening to me” Mary questions. You turn to look at her, a bit dazed “What?”

“I was asking you what you’re doing this weekend but you seem distracted” She smirks as she glances towards regulus. You quickly shut her down. “I was not distracted” You complain.

You listen to her as she starts talking about something else but you can’t take your eyes away from the slytherin table. Your mind drifts to the dream you had last night. Regulus… in your room… touching you. You glance at him and he’s seemingly already looking at you. You look away quickly but when you look back he’s no longer looking at you. Maybe he never was. You sigh as you bring your attention to the food in front of you in an attempt to distract yourself.

I keep these longings locked, in lowercase inside a vault

Watching Regulus play quidditch while trying to keep your thoughts from drifting to having him in your bed is not easy. You watch as he chases the snitch, curls messy from the wind, shirt tightening exposing his form. You’re practically salivating when the match ends. You roll your eyes at the way your Mary yanks you from your seat to pull you with her. Of course the slytherins just had to have a victory party.

This information from your friends had you in a deep blue mini dress in the slytherins dungeons. For some reason you agreed to come with though you’re not sure why, considering some girl was probably going to be draped over regulus and it wasn’t going to be you. You groan at the thought as you’re dragged to the drink table. Searching the party for him over your cup you’re surprised to find him already looking at you.

“Come on! Someone said we should play seven minutes in heaven” Adelia says as she pulls you to the circle. Of course they want to play a stupid muggle game that ends up with two people in a closet.

Regulus spins first and everyone watches as the bottle lands on you. He smirks up at you as he stands up and reaches for your hand. Instead of taking the opportunity to snog your crush like you’ve always wanted, you speed out of the dungeons.

these fatal fantasies, giving way to labored breath, taking all of me, we’ve already done it in my head

You lay on your bed, your dress on the ground. Your dormmates aren’t going to be back tonight. They all had someone to go sleep with. Your thoughts drift back to regulus. Him on top of you. Touching you. Tasting you.

“Come on sweetheart” He breaths as he pounds into you.

“I’m close regulus, please” You moan out as he captures your lips again.

“Shhh baby, we don’t want everyone to know do we?” He questions. You rapidly shake your head.

Your thighs shake as you touch yourself. Merlin you should not be doing this you think to yourself. Your thoughts of him rule out any other thought you could have had. You cum. Hard. All over your hand. You gasp, breathing in and out rapidly.

if it’s make believe, why does it feel like a vow well both uphold somehow

You gasp as your pulled into an empty classroom. You turn to see who has basically kidnapped you, only to come face to face with Regulus Black. You move back a few steps, sitting on a desk a little bit away from him. He smirks as he stalks closer. Ending up directly between your legs.

“Would i be that bad to kiss l/n?” He says brushing a hair behind your ear. You flush, shaking your head.

“Then why did you run away little dove?” He questions as he spreads your legs to better fit between them.

Your brain stutters as you try to think of what to say. What could you say? You ran away. Fast. “I- well” You try to speak but your brain can’t seem to form a sentence. He slides down till he’s on his knees in front on you.

You look away at the implication of what he’s doing but his hands wrapping around your thighs bring your attention back to him. “Do you want me to help you dove?” He asks as he breaths against your exposed thigh. You nod feverishly. He pushes your underwear to the side. Slotting his face between your legs he brings his tongue to your core. He licks a long stripe from your hole to your clit. Sucking lightly once he gets there

You cry out his name as he eats you out. He groans lightly against you sending delicious vibrations through you. You practically sob as he pulls away leaving you on the edge before kissing your thigh and standing up. He leaves you there, gasping for air, left of the edge.

if long suffering propriety is what they want from me, they don’t know how you’ve haunted me so stunningly

You’ve found it even harder to focus on anything except him since he left you in that classroom. You stare way more than you should. You swear you see him everywhere. It’s like he was always trying to be in your eye line. You groan at the thought of being left on the edge as you rest your head against the table. Your friends have noticed your off behavior but chose not to comment on it… too much.

“Why don’t you just go to the dorm and rest?” Adelia suggests. She was trying to be helpful but you know if you end up in your bed you’re just going to want him.

“I think you should get some sleep y/n/n, i don’t think i’ve even seen you sleep the last couple of days” Mary says as she looks at you with sympathy.

You nod. Though you know you’re not going to go to your bed. You stand and head out, hoping that going on a walk will help clear your head. It didn’t. Everything you saw made you think of him or rather places he could take you and you’d let him. You sigh at the thought as you continue walking, you must not have been paying attention to where you were going cause you ended up in front of the slytherin dorms.

I choose you and me… religiously. What if he’s written ‘mine’ on my upper thigh

What you didn’t expect to see was Regulus, leaning up against the wall, breathing heavily. You go to question what exactly he’s doing but he’s already stood up and walked towards you. He grabs your tie bringing you close so he can capture your lips with his. You both moan into the kiss, breathing stuttering as he moves to your neck. You sigh, he continues kissing along your neck and jaw.

“I want you.” He says hurriedly against your jaw. You nod and let him pull you into the common room and to his dorm.

“You’ve been stuck in my head since that stupid party” He says, pushing your robe off. He undoes your tie, unbuttoning your shirt. Your lips crash as he continues to undress you.

“Please Regulus, I need you” You moan against his mouth. He lifts you up before laying you out against his bed. He kisses up your thighs before pulling down your skirt.

“I’m sorry, i would but i just need to be in you” He says kissing your thigh before moving up so he can slot his legs between yours. You both moan loudly as he slips inside you. He begins to thrust, slowly at first before speeding up.

You let him go at whatever pace he wants as you slide your hands into his hair. He whines against your lips as you clench around him. You kiss him more firmly letting him slide his hand up into your hair. He moves his other hand, sliding it between the two of you so he can reach your clit. He rubs it in circles as he continues to thrust into you. You continue to make almost inaudible sounds.

After one particularly good thrust, hitting exactly right, you cum, clenching down hard on him. “y/n, i have to- please let me come in you” He breaths against your neck. You allow him to and he spills inside you. You both breathe heavily against each other as you come down from your high.

You’re about to pass out and sleep before he wakes you up to get cleaned up. After that the two of you fall asleep in each other’s arms. Recalling something stupid your friend said about how your thoughts wouldn’t be sinful if you never touch him. The thought quickly disappears as he tightens his arms around you and you drift off to sleep.

#biggestsimponhere #the marauders fanfiction #the marauders era #the marauders #regulus black x female reader #regulus black x y/n #regulus black x you #regulus black x reader #regulus black #regulus black smut

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thesightstoshowyou · 5 months

Note

Sooo my Ghoul idea! So fem reader, the ghoul takes an odd job unlike his regular job with just killing people for money. A employer hires the ghoul and pays him BIG BIG “money” Caps to bring his daughter home safely across the dangerous wasteland. The reader is a vault dweller and so is the father who has outside connections so he knows who to contact and bring his daughter back. She snuck out to see what up top was really like, and to escape an assigned marriage. Reader is not so bright, basically a bimbo 😅, first time for reader, reader actually finds him attractive, cream pie, Dom Ghoul. Hopefully this is something you’d like to write! ❤️

Thank you for this request!! I hope I did it justice 😁🥰

Over Your Head

Cooper Howard (The Ghoul) x F Reader (NSFW)

Warnings: Loss of virginity, degradation, thigh riding, a little of the Ghoul’s self-loathing, painful sex (that becomes not painful), nipple play, dacryphilia, spitting, creampie, copious dirty talk

The Ghoul heaves a world-weary sigh. “Listen, darlin’,” he starts as he grips your ankle to shove your foot away from where it teases his inner thigh. “Your daddy’s payin’ a hefty sum o’ caps to bring ya’ back in one piece. I don’t think he’ll appreciate me deflowerin’ his lil’ princess.” The last word is said with so much contempt even you can’t miss it.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you whine, bottom lip protruding in a pout.

“Means you’re gettin’ on my last goddamn nerve.” The inhaler hisses when he sucks down a hit. Outside, the wind howls and rattles the foundation of the crumbling office building in which you’d taken shelter. He assumes the dust storm that kicked up and trapped the two of you here, alone, is some kind of divine punishment for his misdeeds. “I know there’s some fuckin’ smooth-skinned brat down in your vault who’s dyin’ to fumble around with ya’. You’re better suited for him.”

The Ghoul watches as your disappointed frown morphs into one of determination. He can almost see the gears working in your head as you try to think up a way to get what you want. You aren’t used to being told “no,” that much is clear.

Never has he regretted taking a job more than he does at this moment.

“I don’t want someone from my vault,” you say as you move onto your hands and knees. Languidly, you crawl through the sand and he can’t help the way his gaze falls on the sway of your hips. He grits his teeth when you slide into his lap, the warmth between your thighs settling right against his clothed cock. “I want you.”

“Did ya’ hit your head on the vault door on your way out, sweetheart?” he questions as your palms come to rest on his shoulders. His own hands, rough from life on the surface and scarred from rads, smooth over your hips and slide down to cup your ass. Irritation shifts into bemused resignation. Admittedly, it’s been a long, long while since he’s been intimate with anyone, and the way you’re writhing in his lap chips away at the last vestiges of his resolve.

“No?” you reply, obviously confused. Pretty…and dumb. Though, he’s still not convinced this isn’t some kind of elaborate prank. Why you’d want him of all people—when you could have anyone you want—is beyond his comprehension.

But, here you are, apparently ready and quite willing. Who is he to snuff out your hopes and dreams, as misguided as they are?

Slowly, the Ghoul inhales through his teeth as one of his hands slides up to grip the back of your neck. His thumb brushes over your nape and he feels a shiver zip down your spine. “I don’t think ya’ know what you’re gettin’ yourself into, sugar.”

Already, your eyes are half lidded and hazy, your plush lips parted to allow for quick breaths. Desperate. Innocent. “Pretty please,” comes your tremulous whisper.

He’s going to make you regret every decision you’ve ever made.

The hand on your neck twists so he can gather up a handful of your hair. He brings your face inches from his own so his lips hover just out of your reach. A grin pulls at his mouth when he feels you test his grip, desperate to close the distance.

He leans in until he’s a hair’s breadth away, until you can feel his exhale ghosting across your panting mouth. “Ain’t no backin’ out a’ this once I tear into ya’.” Hastily, you nod and a breathy whine sneaks past your teeth. Your unbridled enthusiasm is going to be the death of him.

Or you.

The Ghoul’s lips crash into yours in a searing kiss. He swallows your sweet mewl and the sharp gasp that follows when he sinks his teeth into your bottom lip. The feeling of your hips bucking in his lap and the taste of your blood on his tongue rips a rasping groan from his throat.

“Get up and strip,” he orders. He releases your hair and lands a stinging swat on your ass for emphasis. You yelp but scurry away, apparently determined to prove your obedience. The slide of your zipper fills the small space and the Ghoul’s eyes rake over your body as the vault uniform is peeled away, little by little.

The clink of his belt buckle follows and it’s nearly impossible to contain his snort of laughter when your eyes grow comically wide at the sight of him. He palms his cock and slowly hisses through his teeth when you squirm impatiently on the spot, now as naked as the day you were born. Even from here, he can see the arousal glistening between your thighs.

“Come take a seat, kiddo,” The Ghoul says as he spreads his legs and slaps a thigh. Eagerly, you straddle his quad. He wraps a hand around your throat as the other settles on your waist. Slight pressure urges the roll of your hips and soon you’re grinding your slick into his pants.

“What would your daddy say if he saw ya’ actin’ like such a desperate little slut, huh? For a ghoul, no less.” As he speaks, the hand on your waist slides up to roughly tweak a nipple. You squeal and attempt to twist away, but his grip on your throat prevents too much movement. The Ghoul clicks his tongue, “I thought I said no runnin’.”

“It hurts!” You whimper when he turns the same mean treatment on the other nipple.

“Then why are you soakin’ my pant leg, baby?” The moan you loose when his fingers slip down your belly to prod your clit heats the lust burning in his gut. He snatches one of your hands, wraps it around his length, and uses it to stroke himself. The slide of your soft palm along twisted flesh earns you a strained grunt and the briefest fluttering of eyelids.

He watches you from under the brim of his hat. Your eyes are locked on the way your hand works up and down his shaft, your bottom lip glistening where you’ve wet it with your tongue. You’re damn near drooling at just the sight of his cock. The Ghoul has had about all he can take.

“C’mere,” he growls as he grabs hold of your waist and hauls you flush against him. An anxious squeak leaves you when the head of his cock nudges your slick hole. “Deep breath, sweetheart.”

You only manage half an inhale before the Ghoul digs his nails into your hips to spear you on his girth. Your pained shriek echoes off the walls and you scramble to pull yourself up and off, but his grip keeps you seated and forces inch by punishing inch through spasming, untouched muscles. Too soon, you’re impaled up to the hilt, your eyes wide and brimming with tears, your jaw working open and closed like you can’t find the air to scream.

“Fuckin’ tight,” he mutters, nearly overwhelmed by the death grip your hot, slippery insides have on his length. A steadying inhale allows him to turn his attention to you. “What’s the matter, darlin’? Gettin’ split open by my cock not what you’d hoped it’d be?”

The Ghoul tugs you closer to drag his tongue through the fat drops now rolling down your cheeks. Pinching your face between thumb and forefinger, he forces your mouth open and spits your anguish onto your tongue. This seems to shock you enough to draw a choked, furious sound out of you.

“F-fuck-stop-it-it’s too-so full,” you stammer, your thighs shaking like the shingles on the roof above. The Ghoul chuckles, dark and low, as his teeth find the soft flesh of your throat.

“I told ya’ t’breathe, baby,” he reminds you between teasing nips and licks. Your skin is rich like the food they feed you down in that vault, your scent lacking the taint of fear that comes from living life in the Wasteland. Good enough to eat….

Laboriously, you gasp, each breath minutely relaxing your cunt, just enough for the Ghoul to give a few experimental thrusts. The sound you make is distressed, yes, but now there’s something else there to, something akin to that desperation you showed him earlier.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Learnin’ how t’relax and take it. We’ll make a good lil’ whore outta ya’ yet.” Slowly, he moves your hips back and forth as he speaks. Eventually, you get the message and clutch his shoulders to attempt a few tentative undulations of your own. The Ghoul growls, his nails digging crescents into your skin where he holds you.

Soon, no pain remains in your vocalizations. You whine and moan and keen so sweetly, your cries filling the shelter and mingling with the wet squelching of your cunt. You find your rhythm and bounce, unrestrained, in his lap as your juices soak into his pants.

Pressure builds in his groin. The Ghoul can tell by the way your hips stutter and your sweet hole clenches that you’re about to finish too. Hastily, he pulls you against him, plants his boots in the dirt, and hammers up into you until you’re screaming all over again.

You cum a half a second before he does. You freeze in climax, your back arching, so the Ghoul must dig his fingers into the flesh of your ass to work you up and down his girth. With a growl on his lips and teeth bared, his cock pulses to paint your guts in thick ropes of ecstasy.

Long seconds pass as you both hover together in that liminal space of bliss. “Ohh…oh god…” you sigh finally, slumping, boneless. He mirrors your sentiment with a pleased groan that rumbles in his chest.

A hand in your hair tips your head back so the Ghoul can assess your dazed expression. “Fucked what lil’ sense ya’ had right outta ya’, huh?”

“You don’t have to be mean about—

A yawn overtakes your affronted huff. You move to scoot off his lap. “God, I’m so tired now.”

The Ghoul hums disapprovingly and maintains his hold on your hips. “We ain’t done here, sugar. That dust storm is still howlin’ and you got two holes left for me t’abuse.”

Nervously, you laugh and shake your head. “But, I thought…I just wanted—

“A big, bad man t’pop your cherry so ya’ had somethin’ t’brag about back in your vault. Well, I intend on doin’ just that and there ain’t no sense in doin’ somethin’ halfway. Not my problem ya’ bit off more than ya’ could chew, sweetheart.” A chuckle bubbles up from his throat at your horrified expression.

“On your knees, sugar.”

#thank you for the ask #cooper howard x you #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard #the ghoul x you #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul fallout #the ghoul #fallout 2024 #fallout #fallout show #thesightstoshowyou

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things-arent-what-they-seem66 · 5 months

Note

Omega Adam x Alpha Lucifer

What if:

What if Adam made his mask to help surpassed his heat cycles. It worked up until the fight when Lucifer broke it which caused his heat to start up.

I guess you could say someones fucked lol

Smut under the cut

Adam crawled out of the skylight, grunting from the pain he felt from the impact. "Okay, how many more of you freaks do I have to fight!?" He paused when he noticed his mask was broken, half of it missing from his face.

Oh no.

Maybe it would be okay? The half that was still there seemed to be working, the LEDs still glowing.

But the beginning of a cramp in his lower abdomen told him that no, it was not going to work. Adam wore his mask all of the time and hadn't had a heat cycle in years.

No, no, no, no, no, no, NO! NOT NOW! Not with HIM here, this fucking close!

"Oh I'm the only one that matters. You see, you mess with my daughter and now..." The wind blew a gust in Lucifer's direction and a sweet smell filled his nostrils. A smell he hadn't known for a very long time. "I'm going to fuck you!"

Everyone was silent as they looked at him confused and in horror.

"It's fuck you up, dad."

Another wave of that beautiful scent assaulted Lucifer's senses and yeah, he knew. "No sweetie, I mean that literally." Lucifer admitted his own power scent, as an alpha it was sure to make Adam stand down.

Adam could smell it and had to swallow a whimper. He forgot how good the devil smelled. "Stay away from me asshole!" He backed up when Lucifer got closer, another cramp hitting him. Adam knew he didn't have much time before basic instinct would take him over, it has been way too long since he's slept with an alpha.

Since earth with Eve.

Adam nearly moaned when Lucifer grabbed his wrist. They were gone in a flash of magic.

Charlie couldn't believe her eyes. "What the fuck just happened?"

Angel smirked. "Someone's getting a baby sibling!"

Adam was pinned to the bed, his mask fully gone now. All he could smell or feel was Lucifer on top of him, the devil licked at his neck over his sensitive scent glands making him shiver. "Fuck off!"

"Sweetheart, your mouth says one thing but your body..." Lucifer pressed his erection against the wetness of Adams clothed opening. "Says it missed me. I can make it good for you like I did in Eden." He rolled his hips making Adam squirm.

Fuck, Eden. The last time they fucked was right before Adam and Eve got kicked out of the garden.

"Do you want me to knot you again, darling? I could pump you so full of my seed I give you another baby. Would you like that? To have another child of mine?" He was referring to Cain, Cain was Adam and Lucifer's son.

Too far gone in his need and natural instinct, Adam's mind blanked out. That was all he heard.

Baby, baby, baby, he wants to give me a baby!

"Yes! Knot me Luci.~" He was practically vibrating and drooling with need.

Lucifer growled, liking the answer. Under a normal circumstance he'd tease Adam more, but it's been a long time since he himself got laid and he really wants to be inside of him again after all these fucking years.

He removed the tights that Adam wore under his robe and unzipped his own pants shoving them down. Lucifer didn't waste any time sinking himself into the awaiting wet heat.

They both moaned at the long awaited feeling. "How long has it been since you've been properly fucked through a heat, darling? Long time I'm betting."

"Ahhh! L-long time!" Adam withered and moaned like the bitch in heat he was, his senses getting overloaded with pleasure that only his alpha could give him.

"Did you ever try? Did you ever want to seek me out? I bet you would have fantasies about me." Because Lucifer certainly had fantasies about Adam.

Adam couldn't even think straight enough to answer, the cramps having died down all he could say was 'yes' wanting the knot that was so close to filling him. He'd say anything to get it in that moment.

"This time I get to keep you." Was all Lucifer said before he came deeply inside of Adam, knotting him. He placed a hand on Adam's lower belly, oh how he hoped he got pregnant. He'd never let him go this time.

Adam felt the relief that came with his own orgasm and the feeling of being filled with the king's release. Oh how he missed it.

They could deal with the consequences of their actions in the morning.

#adamsapple #lucifer x adam #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel lucifer #omegaverse #mpreg #implied mpreg

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whiskey-tango-matcha · 26 days

Text

Safe (M, cold)

Well, here I am.

It's been a few months since I've written anything in the Elliot's universe, but recently someone asked for a Mark-centric story, and this behemoth is what ensued. Allow me to preface by saying this: Mark is basically my self-insert. This was a very hard story to write. If it sucks, my apologies, hah.

In this, Mark gets sick from Matt and wants to hide it from Elijah. It is significantly more hurt/comfort-slash-sickfic than snzfic, honestly. It starts fairly benign, fluffy, and silly and gets really intense a few pages in. There's a lot of musing, a lot of being inside Mark's head. Idk. I'm not sure if I love it or hate it. This is the first story I've written on here that has taken me a full week to get down, and that I've written and scrapped multiple scenes. It is very long. I really hope you enjoy it if you read it. I'd love to hear your thoughts, but also understand if it's just too long-winded for people to read. Also, there's a real chance of spelling/grammar errors because I just can't look at this monster of a fic any longer, ha.

Anyway. Onward.

CW: Male snz, illness, coughing, contagion. 6K words (almost exactly)

Safe

“Don’t go near them.”

It’s the first thing that hit his ears as he pushed through the swinging kitchen doors; no ‘hi, Mark,’ no, ‘good morning’, just a barked order with absolutely zero context thrown in. Mark whipped his head in the direction of the stern voice of his boss.

“Good morning to you, too,” he muttered, making his way towards the office, where Elijah was stationed, seated, but not doing any computer work. “Who and what are we avoiding?” he asked as he entered.

“The chefs,” Elijah said, moving his chair to let the younger manager in to sit. Mark placed his backpack on the ground, tossed his coat over top of Greyson’s on the second office chair. Waited for further explanation that did not come.

“Okay…” he said, sitting beside his boss. “And we’re not going near them because…?” Mark hadn’t even seen Greyson or Matt yet this morning. The avoiding was being done for him, so what was Elijah’s deal?

Elijah hummed a low disapproval – of what, Mark couldn’t guess – and turned towards his computer. “You’ll see,” he said, shaking his mouse and pulling up an order guide. “Just don’t breathe your boyfriend’s breath, okay?”

Mark colored at the implication; it had only been a couple of months since Matt and Mark had been outed to the restaurant, and the floor manager still wasn’t used to their relationship being casually dropped into conversation. While Elijah busied himself with admin work, Mark stood – time to figure out what the fuck Elijah was on about.

You would think that finding chefs in a kitchen would be a relatively banal business; they’re chefs. They’re cooking. Hardly a moving target – but you’d be wrong. Somehow, the second a front of house manager starts looking for a chef, they become a ghost. They haven’t existed for a thousand years – are you sure this restaurant even has a chef? Mark couldn’t help but ponder how the fuck this hundred-square-foot kitchen somehow became a labyrinthian nightmare the second he wanted to find his boyfriend and his boyfriend’s boss; c’mon, he’d checked the walk-in, the back kitchen, even the dock to see if they were smoking, where the fuck were they?

Maybe Elijah had told the two of them to stay away from Mark and the front of house staff before the floor manager arrived, and they were playing a cat-and-mouse style keep-away game that Mark was unaware of. Or maybe they had gone to the store to pick up chicken or some shit. Either way, Mark was done looking. Elijah said don’t go near them, he thought to himself, heading back towards the front of the kitchen, easy enough.

Of course, it was the moment that Mark decided he was done looking that he quite literally bumped into his boyfriend coming through the kitchen doors.

“Oof,” Matt grunted as they collided. Greyson, not even a step behind him, turned their two-person bump into a three-car-pileup that nearly ended in hot coffee being spilled over all of them.

“Christ, Chef, watch where you’re going,” Matt muttered untangling himself from the middle of the pack.

“Mbe watch where I’mb going?” Greyson asked, wiping his coffee-covered hand on his chef’s pants. “The two of you are practically grinding on each other here and I ndeed to watch where I’mb going?”

Mark clocked it in the chef’s voice immediately – oh. That’s what Elijah meant.

But… he had said both of them… right?

Mark’s head shot up from checking to make sure he didn’t have coffee all over his button-down to look Matt directly in the face – ah. Fuck.

“Hh-! Hh’ITSHZH-ue! HRTSHH-ue!” Matt collapsed to the side to sneeze, seemingly in lieu of responding to Greyson’s dig. “Snf. Fuck off, Chef.” There it was.

“Bless you,” Mark said, attempting not to sound accusatory. Matt just nodded.

“Yeah,” he said, rubbing his nose on the back of his hand. “Sorry.”

Before Mark could respond to the unnecessary apology, Elijah’s voice rang out once again from the office. “Mark, I told you to stay away from them!” The GM stood from his desk chair and strode into the kitchen, physically pushing Mark and Matt away from one another. “Six foot distance,” he said, pointing at both of them. “And you,” he said, addressing his counterpart, “didn’t I tell you to go get some tea and sit the fuck down? We have a big night tonight and I need you conscious, please.”

Greyson rolled his eyes and held up his cup. “I was on mby way to sit when the children starting gyrating on each other in the mbiddle of mby kithcen,” he said. “Don’t put this one on mbe.”

Elijah squeezed the bridge of his nose, frustrated. “First of all,” he said, moving towards Greyson and plucking the cup from his hand, “that isn’t tea.”

“The tea we buy is gross,” Greyson whined. “And I’mb ti – hh! Hh...hhuh-ETSHZH-ue! Snrf, fuck.” Greyson took a moment to collect himself, to wipe his nose on his sleeve and cough – a wet, concerning sound – before finishing his sentence. “I’mb tired,” he said, snatching the cup back.

“Which is why I told you to go sit down,” Elijah said, pressing his palms together and accentuating each word with his hands. “And please do not get my front of house manager sick. I beg, Greyson.”

“Talk to him,” Greyson said, thumbing towards Matt. “I’mb ndot the one with my tongue in Mark’s mbouth twenty-four-seven.”

Mark’s face flamed once again, but Matt, either too sick to care or beyond the embarrassment that was a public relationship in the work place, just rolled his eyes.

“Jealous, much?” Matt asked under his breath. Greyson shot daggers with a glance at his sous, and Mark decided it was probably time to step in.

“Listen, how about I go grab the two of you some medicine from down the street, you both take a rest, and then by the time the meds have kicked in, everyone should be good for service.” Mark looked to Elijah for his blessing; his boss was obviously mulling it over, considering. “And this way, I’ll be out of the metaphorical splash zone,” he finished, which finally prompted a nod from Elijah.

“Okay,” his boss said. “Good idea, Mark. You two – come with me.”

The GM led the two chefs back into the dining room to lay in the back booth while Mark let out a sigh. He was happy, of course, to be out of the fight, to have seemingly calmed everyone down, and to have put his boss’s mind at ease.

Unfortunately, he was fairly sure that – despite Elijah’s eased mind – it was already too late for keeping himself away from the newest restaurant pestilence.

***

“Elijah is going to kill me, Matt.”

“Oh, please, he is ndo – ITSZCHH-ue! ndot,” Matt said, swiping the bottle of Dayquil from Mark’s hand and chugging it. “You gonna sit?” he asked, sniffling and patting the milk crate beside him and shivering. Mark sighed.

“I’m not gonna sit, because Elijah is going to kill me even more if he sees me sitting right next to you.”

“I’mb gonna go out on a limb here and say that’s ndot possible,” Matt said, dissolving at the end of his sentence into a chesty cough.

“You’re coughing now, too?” Mark asked, worry about Elijah’s anger usurped very suddenly by concern for his boyfriend. Mark placed a hand to Matt’s head. “Oh, honey.”

“Sorry,” Matt said, not bothering to move Mark’s hand. Mark huffed out a little laugh.

“Don’t apologize for being sick. Please,” he said, moving his hand to cup Matt’s cheek. “Even if Elijah might kill us both.”

Matt smiled, pressed his face harder into Mark’s hand. “You might ndot get sick. You ndever know,” he muttered, eyes closing as Mark held his head up.

“Matt,” Mark laughed, “I mean… I don’t think that’s, uh, possible after last night.” Matt’s eyes blinked open at the mention of it, and a little smile flitted across his lips.

The apartment had been quiet.

“Matt?” Mark called as he stepped inside. “Babe, are you home?”

He strained his ears; the shower was on. Mark had an idea.

He tiptoed across the cold apartment floor, quietly stripping as he went; by the time he got to the bathroom door, he was nude as the day he was born. The bathroom door wasn’t closed all the way, so he pushed inside silently and pulled back the curtain.

A fact about Matt that shocked Mark more than anything was that the man did not get scared. He had yawned through their first haunted house together; he fell asleep during the Terrifier movies, for Christ’s sake. So Mark was unsurprised when, instead of screaming bloody murder the way he would’ve if Matt snuck up on his in the shower, his boyfriend simply turned away from the spray and smiled.

“You’re early,” he murmured, ushering Mark in.

“I came right from the gym,” Mark said, wrapping his arms around the shorter man. “I wanted to see you.”

“Mmmm,” Matt hummed, pressing himself into Mark’s arms. “That’s nice, baby.”

They stood that way for a few minutes, until Mark tipped Matt’s chin up towards his face. “I wanted to see you,” he said, pressing his lips onto Matt’s neck, “but I also wanted to… do things. With you.”

Matt’s breath caught in the back of his throat. “Yeah?” he asked, voice low. “Like what?”

Mark stood back to his full height, and pushed Matt against the shower wall. “Let me show you.”

“Fair enough,” Matt said now, lifting his head. “But, I mbean, are you feeling okay right ndow?”

He was, for the moment. But, Matt had seemed alright last night, and clearly he’d already been on the trajectory towards ill – despite that fact that he had been very good at hiding it. Whatever he and his boss had picked up was certainly quick to come on.

“I’m fine, baby, don’t worry about me,” Mark said, rummaging through the drug store bag to hand Matt, who’d fallen into another paroxysm of coughing, the Robitussin. “I’m more worried about you than anything.”

Matt snapped the top off and chugged this medicine as well, seemingly without any concern about mixing two medications. “Babe, it’ll be fine. I kndow Elijah is worried about getting through the weekend, but it’s ndot like any of us haven’t worked with a cold before.” He shrugged then, handed Mark the medicine, and stood. Mark stood as well, and once again cupped Matt’s hot face – this time with both hands.

“Please just take it a little bit easy tonight, okay?” Mark said. “I know Greyson is sick, too, but don’t try to do too much. We don’t need another moment like a few months ago.”

“And to think I’d just forgotten about that,” Matt said, going on tiptoe to kiss his boyfriend. “I’ll be okay.” Mark kissed him back, a little longer than was maybe necessary; long enough that neither of them heard the back door open until it was too late.

“Mark, what the fuck are you doing?”

Oh, fuck.

Elijah.

***

By the end of the night, Greyson and Matt were shadows of their former selves.

“Hh-! Hhhuh… hhNGTSHH-ue! HRTSHH! ETSZCH-ue! Fuuuck mbe,” Greyson muttered as he wrenched into the sleeve of his hoodie – chef coats had been abandoned about an hour into service, when both he and Matt started shivering hard enough to fuck up the plating on more than half the dishes – for the millionth time that night. He attempted to clear his throat, prompting a flurry of congested coughs.

Behind him, Matt was sitting on the cold, industrial kitchen ground, head between his knees. “I’mb gonna pass out, I just kndow I am.”

“Don’t fuckigg pass out,” Greyson growled, pulling his sous to his feet. “You ndeed to get your blood mboving, you gotta stand up. Idiot.”

The two of them, bickering and sneezing in near-unison by the pass, had captivated the attention of both front of house managers, who had turned away from their computer work to watch the mess unfold.

“Hope you like what you see,” Elijah said, finally. “Because that’s gonna be you tomorrow.”

Behind his boss’s back, Mark rolled his eyes. “Boss, I’m fine. I don’t feel sick at all, trust me, I’m going to be okay.” It was mostly true; he’d sneezed a few more times today than was normal for him, yes. And he was a little tired – no more than usual, surely. The rawness in the back of his throat was easily ignored with huge gulps of water. He was fine.

“Mmm,” Elijah said, swinging his chair around to look the younger man in the eye, “sure. Whatever you say, Mark; just remember, if you look even close to how bad Matt does tonight, you’re off the floor. And I mean off the floor until you return to normal. A cold is one thing; whatever these two have is entirely another. Understood?”

Mark swallowed around his burgeoning sore throat; off the floor. Off the floor didn’t mean relegated to busywork behind the scenes; it meant sent home. Being sent home meant days without a backup manager to help Elijah on the floor, and no one to help on the floor meant Elijah would realize there was a gap in their team. A gap in management. Mark had been the only floor manager in all the years Elliot’s had been open; Elijah had mentioned a few times that maybe they should hire another person, someone to cover if both Mark and Elijah couldn’t come in, but Mark had been vehemently against it. Elijah couldn’t hire another manager, because if he did, he’d see how truly unqualified Mark had been for his position all this time. Once he saw how unqualified he was, he’d be out on his ass. No job, no money… no second family. No place he truly belonged.

Mark’s face flushed, and he cast his eyes towards the floor. “Yes, boss,” he said. “I understand.”

“Good,” Elijah said, nodding. “Now, go collect your boyfriend and take him to bed.”

***

The first time Mark was sick while working at Elliot’s was well over a year into his tenure.

Elijah had regarded Mark with concern, clocking him as unwell the second he sat in the office. “You don’t look well,” he said. “Are you feeling okay?”

Mark’s face had flushed, embarrassed; not getting sick for over a year working front of house was honestly a feat of accomplishment in the restaurant industry, but he still felt guilty for coming down with something, despite its inevitability. He shrugged, an attempt at playing it cool.

“I’mb okay, boss,” Mark croaked. “Just a cold.”

Elijah nodded slowly. “Are you sure it’s just a cold? You feel okay to work?”

Mark raised an eyebrow, confused. Did he look that unwell? “I mbean… yeah?” he said, rubbing his nose with the back of his hand. “Why?”

“Well,” Elijah said, opening a drawer and pulling out cold medicine, along with a small bag that looked like it could’ve come from his mother’s medicine cabinet. “A cold, we can work with.”

The GM explained to him, then, that there were marked differences between the front of house cold, and the back of house cold. “You’ve seen Greyson sick at work a dozen times,” Elijah said, passing Mark a cup full of pills and a water bottle. “Right?”

“Sure,” Mark said, swallowing the pills around a painfully sore throat. “It’s ndot like he’s hiding it.”

“Right. Right,” Elijah said, popping open a stick that looked like – was that concealer? “The chefs, the cooks – they don’t have to hide anything. Us, though? No one wants to be served soup by someone with a stuffy nose. We all get the same shit, but only they’re allowed to look like shit.” He dabbed the concealer under Mark’s eyes, used an expert finger to blend it into his skin. “That’s the industry for you.”

“Are you… putting makeup on mbe?” Mark asked, laughing a bit.

“Sure am,” Elijah said. “A little concealer goes a long way in this profession, Mark. Concealer, and enough meds to tranquilize an elephant.” His boss closed the little concealer pen, put the medicine and makeup away. “I want you on the floor, but I want you to look… alive.” Elijah shut the drawer, shrugged. “Let me know if you start feeling really shitty. Otherwise? Come to the back to blow your nose, and feel free to help yourself to whatever you want in here.”

Mark blinked, a little confused, but grateful for the advice. Elijah seemed… almost fatherly, like this, and he could feel embarrassing tears welling in his eyes at this, the smallest gesture of being cared for. Mark looked down, cleared his throat. “Uh… okay, boss. Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” Elijah said, patting Mark’s knee. “We’ve gotta take care of each other in this hell hole of an industry, y’know?”

Mark couldn’t look up. The thought of his boss seeing him cry was entirely too much for him to handle. “Right,” he whispered. “Right.”

***

The hardest part of hiding an illness, Mark knew from experience, was speaking.

Putting on makeup and looking like a human instead of a corpse? Easy. He’d learned how to apply concealer so it didn’t look like he was in drag – just enough that in the dim lighting of the restaurant you couldn’t tell if those were dark circles or shadows. He’d learned if you added a tiny bit of blush to your cheeks, no one noticed that your nose was also red, and he’d figured out the hard way that there was never a world in which he needed eyeliner, even if it made his eyes look less bloodshot.

He always dressed immaculately when he wasn’t feeling well; extra-crisp button down, sport coat, his expensive Ray Ban glasses, not the cheapos from Zenni he usually donned. Mark shined his shoes the second he felt a tickle in his throat, broke out the cuff links if he suddenly sneezed more than thrice in a row. He’d been trained well by Elijah to hide the visual cues of any oncoming malady.

Hiding how he really felt came even more naturally; he’d been practicing that since childhood. Complaining wasn’t in his nature, or had maybe been stamped out entirely at some point – either way, Mark could be actively passing out, unable to breathe, coughing so hard he couldn’t form a sentence, and he wouldn’t even mention it. Of course, he’d been sent home from work for being ill before, but never once had he chosen to go. Even the thought of saying ‘I’m sick’ made him dizzy with unease. You need to work through that in therapy, Matt had said to him multiple times, and he knew it was true, but it was also helpful. In this industry, admitting defeat was akin to admitting you sucked at your job.

The voice, though? That was always what gave him away. No matter how much medicine he took, he could always hear the rasp that overtook his voice immediately. His m’s and n’s turned to rounded shadows of their former selves even if he blew his nose every five minutes. His timbre lowered considerably, to the point that when Matt first saw him sick he asked how it felt to be able to do a perfect Johnny Cash, but only when he felt like shit. It was a problem, but Mark was a pretty quiet guy in general. If he was quieter than usual, usually no one was the wiser.

That’s what he hoped – that his boss would be none the wiser – as he dressed in his perfectly-tailored suit that morning, stifling sneeze after painful sneeze into handfuls of tissue all the while. Just don’t talk, he thought as he dotted Maybeline under his eyes. No one has to know.

Of course, not talking was a bit… difficult when his boss was around. “Good morning,” Elijah called to Mark as he buzzed through the kitchen, trying to make his way into the dining room without having to make small talk. Dammit. Mark stopped, begrudgingly, and nodded at his boss, who raised both eyebrows at the younger manager’s outfit choice. “Is there an event tonight I’ve forgotten?”

Mark shook his head, straightened his tie. “Just felt like dressing up,” he said, tactfully avoiding words with too many nasal letters. “How’re you, boss?”

“I’m well,” Elijah said, pointedly. He patted the empty chair next to him, prompting Mark to sit; don’t let him get a good look at you, a voice in Mark’s head chastised. Don’t get taken off the floor. “Greyson’s not coming in till three, if you want to do your preshift report in here today.”

“That’s okay,” Mark said. “I like the dining roomb.” Fuck.

Elijah cocked his head to the side, but didn’t mention Mark’s voice. “How’s Matt feeling?” he asked, another pointed question.

“He’s okay – a little better. Said he’d be here at four.” Mark patted himself on the back for maneuvering around any pesky m’s or n’s that time. Elijah nodded slowly.

“Glad to hear it,” Elijah said, standing. The younger manager was several inches taller than his boss, but Elijah was still able to look him fairly closely in the eye. Once again, one word rattled around in Mark’s head: fuck. “How are you feeling?”

Mark allowed a smile to form on his rapidly-chapping lips. “Good, boss. Ready to work,” he said simply. God, he needed to clear his throat. And more than that, he really, really needed to blow his nose.

Elijah nodded. “Alright,” he said, apparently placated. “Go ahead, then.”

“Thanks, boss,” Mark said, stepping out of the office doorway and pushing through the swinging kitchen doors before Elijah could say anything else. He’d made it through the first test, somehow. Just in time, too, he thought, making a beeline towards the bathroom. Because I really fucking need to -

“NTSHH!” Mark stifled a near-silent sneeze into his wrist as he yanked open the guest bathroom door. Finally, locked in the bathroom alone, he allowed himself to be as disgusting, as sick as he really was.

“Hhuh -! Hh- ETZSCH-ue! HRRSHH-ue! Huh… hh’RRSHH-ue!” Mark collapsed in on himself, scrambling to collect a handful of tissues so he wouldn’t ruin the sleeve of his suit. He blew his nose as thoroughly as he could – not that it made any difference, he was still stuffed up to the gills. A pathetic little cough escaped his lungs, prompting another tickle in his sinuses. “HUHTTSCHH-ue!”

Shut up, shut up, shut up, he chastised himself, blowing his nose again. He’s going to fucking hear you.

He waited a moment or two to see if Elijah would push through the door – he didn’t – before sitting fully clothed on the toilet and pulling out his phone.

11:56AM

Mark

what is this, the fucking plague?

Almost immediately, Matt texted back.

11:57AM Matt

o shit, did we get you already? baby im so sorry. u shouldve told me u weren’t feeling good last night u couldve stayed over

11:57AM Mark

not your fault. and I’m ok, just trying to avoid Elijah, he’s gonna be so pissed.

11:59AM

Matt

omfg he’ll get over it. its not like someone in that restaurant isnt sick every other week

Mark sighed, his lungs crackling at the effort. Matt was right; someone was almost always sick at Elliot’s, that was the way of things in this industry. They all shared drinks, they worked in close quarters, it was bound to happen. This was less about the illness itself – of course he’d been sick at work before, who hadn’t? - and more about the look he knew he’d see on Elijah’s face when he’d finally have to crack. He’d gone directly against his boss’s orders, had put his job and the restaurant second to his baser desires. That’s no way to get ahead in this world, his dad’s voice bellowed from the base of his brain. Mark shuddered; he wasn’t sure he’d be able to face Elijah’s look of pure disappointment. He wasn’t sure he had it in him.

Slipping his phone into his pocket, Mark stood and washed his hands. He took an inventory of his face in the mirror – eye bags poorly covered by drugstore makeup, his nose raw and red, his mouth slightly open to allow him to breathe – and realized how truly awful he looked. Was there even a chance that Elijah didn’t know he was sick? Doubtful, his dad’s voice muttered.

You have to just try, another voice in his head pleaded. Just push through, you know how to push through. You’ve done it a million times before. He doesn’t have to know.

That voice, Mark knew, was delusional – a child’s gnawing plea to be accepted, to not get in trouble, to not be thought of as a burden – but he knew that sometimes you had to be delusional, had to listen to the saddest, smallest part of yourself to get through a day. He pulled his phone back out before leaving the bathroom.

12:04PM

Mark

just please don’t say anything to Elijah when you get here, ok? I’m fine, I promise. its honestly probably just in my head, it’s probably nothing so just don’t say anything. see u soon.

Pathetic, his dad’s voice spat, and Mark knew the voice was right. But that was nothing new, nothing to dwell on; he’d always been pathetic. Mark switched off his phone then, not wanting to be comforted by his boyfriend, and stepped onto the floor.

***

“Mark,” Matt said, reaching up to touch the front of house manager’s forehead, “you really need to go.”

Mark pulled away before Matt could touch him, though not by choice. “HRRSHH-uhh! Hh-! HhNTZSHH-ue! Snrrf. Leave mbe alone.”

Matt’s hand recoiled at the ice in his boyfriend’s voice, obviously hurt. Normally, Mark would’ve nearly fallen to his knees at the thought of hurting Matt’s feelings, but today, with the cold from hell progressing quicker than he ever could’ve anticipated, he couldn’t even find it in himself to apologize. Obviously he needed to go, but that would mean admitting to illness; it would mean begin taken off the floor until god-knows-when. It would mean Elijah replacing him.

No. He wasn’t about to go.

“Honey,” Matt said carefully, touching Mark’s hand across the expo board, “I’mb sure Elijah would understand. It’s a slow ndight, he already sent Greyson back home. What are you trying to prove?”

Of course, Matt was right; last night’s crazy shift was in stark contrast to this evening’s steady pace. There were hardly twenty more covers for the evening, and yes, even Greyson had admitted defeat and slunk out right at six p.m., in a fevered haze. The only reason Matt was still here was because his fever had broken this morning and, despite the lingering cough and stuffy nose, he was clearly feeling better. Good enough, even, to have gone behind Mark’s back and talked to Elijah.

“Matt told me,” Elijah had cornered him right before preshift started, in the back server station while everyone else ate family meal. Mark felt his stomach sink. Fucking Matt, he thought, clearing his throat to address his boss in the most normal voice he could muster.

“Told you what?” he asked, straightening his tie. Elijah gave the younger manager a knowing look.

“You don’t look like you feel well, Mark,” he said, obviously trying a different tactic. This time, Mark’s stomach knotted; he felt, for a moment, like a little kid, wanting to fall to the ground in front of his mommy and just allow himself to be comforted. He thought for a fleeting moment of how good it would feel to just admit it; I’m sick, he would say, if he were a normal fucking person, I want to go to bed.

Instead, Mark shook his head. “I don’t kndow what Matt told you, but he doesn’t kndow what he talking about,” he managed, his voice cutting out only once. “I’mb fine.”

Elijah sighed. “Mark, listen, I know I was an asshole yesterday -”

“Boss,” Mark cut Elijah off. “Please. I’mb okay. Just please, let mbe work.”

He’d walked away then, hadn’t let Elijah say whatever it was he wanted to say, and had avoided Matt as well as he could throughout service. Now, mid-shift, when all the cooks and servers were side-eyeing them from he expo board, was not the time to hash this out.

“I’mb ndot trying to prove anything, Matt,” Mark said now, grabbing two plates from the window. “Just stay out of mby business. What table?”

Matt bit his cheek, peaked at the chit. “Please don’t be mbad,” he said, voice quiet. Mark prickled; he couldn’t help it. He was mad. He’d asked one stupid thing of Matt, and now here he was, career in trouble, embarrassed in front of both of their staffs, and once again gearing up for another painful -

“HTTSHH-ue! God, fugck,” Mark swore, ducking expertly away from the plates he was holding. He sucked in through his nose hard enough to make himself dizzy, and looked back at Matt. “What table, Chef?” he asked, pointedly. Matt winced.

“Thirty-three,” he said finally. Mark nodded.

“Great. Thangks.” He turned on his heels and pushed out the kitchen doors.

***

Before it happened, Mark found himself thinking exactly what his boyfriend was moaning the night previous: I’m gonna pass out, I know I am.

The only difference was, Mark was correct.

He’d been feeling shittier and shittier as the night went on. It began with spells of dizziness that came anytime he moved his head too fast, then moved on to an ache in his chest every time he coughed. A cold is one thing, he remembered Elijah saying the night previous. Whatever they have is entirely something else.

Elijah the prophet.

He kept pushing through. Plate after plate came out of the kitchen on his aching arms; he shook drinks while coughing into his shoulder, and sniffled his way through seating guests. Mark could feel Elijah’s eyes on him, though his boss refused to speak to him throughout the shift. I’ll show him, his fever-addled mind kept saying. I can do this. I’m fine.

It wasn’t until the last table had sat that his body well and truly told him he’d had enough. Mark was seeing stars when he grabbed a filet and swordfish, and once again he ignored it. He ignored the room swimming before him as he pushed out of the kitchen. He ignored the sway in his step.

“Shit, Mark!” was the last thing he heard, standing in the middle of the dining room with hot plates in each of his hands. There was no way to tell who said it – Elijah? Matt? – but it didn’t really matter, because before he could respond, his vision became a tiny pinkprick, his knees buckled, and the lights went out.

***

When the world came back into focus, he had somehow teleported into his bed.

At first, Mark tried desperately to get up; he’d fallen in the middle of the restaurant, that he unfortunately remembered immediately. There had been people around, guests watching, and he immediately felt his face flame with embarrassment. Oh, Elijah is going to kill me.

That was when he realized he was no longer in the restaurant. Mark placed a hand over an aching eye; was it all a dream? He looked down – no, it couldn’t be. He was still in his tailored suit, the tie and ciff links missing, but otherwise dressed to the nines.

“Whoa there, kid,” a familiar voice came from the doorway. “Go ahead and lie back down.”

Mark blearily glanced towards the voice. There, just outside his bedroom, stood Elijah, a steaming cup in one hand and a thermometer in the other. Fuck.

“Shit, Elijah, I’mb so sorry I ca – HTSHH-ue! HRRSHH-ue! Fuck, ’scuse mbe,” Mark, any facade of health finally washed away, used his expensive suit jacket to wipe his nose. Elijah glided across the small room and sat on the foot of the bed, handing the younger man the cup. Tea.

“Save your breath,” Elijah said. “You already apologized about a hundred times at the restaurant.”

He had? Mark gave Elijah a confused look, and sat back on the pillows behind him. He hadn’t even realized he’d come to at the restaurant at all.

“Mmhmm,” Elijah said, nodding. “To me. To Matt. To the guests. To the EMTs. I would think you’d be apologized out.”

EMTs? Mark cringed; as if he hadn’t been embarrassed enough. He wanted to ask, but at the same time he figured it was probably better that he didn’t remember. Small mercies, he thought.

“Lij,” Mark croaked, taking a sip of the tea, “I really amb… sorry. I mbean, I can’t imagine how mbuch I embarrassed you. Thangk you for bringing mbe home… I understand if you can’t…let mbe, uh. Work there. Anymore.”

Mark, destroyed by fever, and aches, and what was probably some sort of bronchitis-sinus-infection super-fucking-hybrid, couldn’t help but let the angry, ashamed tears fall as he said it. Matt wasn’t here, which most likely meant he was out both a boyfriend and a job. You fucking idiot. You stupid, fucking idiot, how dumb could you -

Elijah broke through the screaming in his head – he took Mark’s arms in his hands, placed his cup on the side table, and pulled him in for a hug. “Mark,” his boss said, “you really had us worried.” He pulled the younger manager back, concern painted on his face. “Of course you aren’t fired, I don’t know why you’d think that of me,” he said, a moment so raw that Mark felt like he’d been sucker-punched. “You should’ve just told me you were so sick. So you could go and rest. I would’ve even let Matt go with you.” Elijah patted his knee then, and handed Mark back the mug. “It’s just a restaurant, Mark. You’re more important than service.”

Mark felt his eyes well up once again. Had anyone ever told him he was worth more than the work he did? He wasn’t sure. He wasn’t sure, and that felt like an even harder gut-punch.

“I just…” he managed, wiping beneath his eyes. “I just didn’t wandt you to replace mbe. I’mb sorry for letting Mbatt get mbe sick.”

At this, Elijah actually laughed. “Mark,” he said, “you’re young. You’re in love; it comes with the territory. I was annoyed because Greyson and Matt are constantly getting everyone in that restaurant sick. I wasn’t trying to attack you.” He smiled then, a small and slightly sad smile. “I’m sorry if that’s how to came off.”

Mark didn’t know what to say; he felt awful, like he’d been hit by a semi, and he just wanted to sleep. See Matt. Apologize for being a dick. And sleep.

“Is Mbatt mad at mbe?” he croaked, pulling his legs into his chest. This time, Elijah actually laughed.

“I don’t think Matt knows how to be mad at you,” he said. “He’s just closing up the line; he was actually the one who brought you back here, but you were racked out so I said I’d come keep an eye on you till he got back.” Elijah shrugged, gave a little knowing smile. “He’ll be back soon. Okay? We don’t have to talk any more about this now. Just… try to sleep.” He patted Mark’s shoulder; a fatherly gesture from a man who claimed to know nothing about being a parent. “I’ll call Matt.”

Finally, finally, Mark conceded. He wanted to thank Elijah, or maybe apologize again, but he couldn’t make his mouth form words. Instead, he just nodded, grateful, and sank back into his pillow. He felt his eyes close, and allowed himself, for once, to let someone else take care of him.

He knew, maybe for the first time in his life, that he was safe.

#whiskeyswriting #snz #sickfic #snzfic #snzblr #coldfic #male cold #male snz #whump #whump writing #hurt/comfort #this is such a long fic and does it even make sense??? idk #the beginning and the end are so drastically different it feels insane to even post #but whatever. i've spent like thirty hours on it at this point so it's getting posted #i need to write something fun and silly after this hahaha #if you take the time to read this you're a saint

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leewritestoomuch · 6 months

Note

I've been so obsessed with Rock Lee for the last few months after getting into Naruto and I'm so glad someone's taking requests for my favourite ninja! If it's not too much trouble, I'd like to see you write Rock Lee helping reader stretch before a work out but since reader isn't really flexible or is just not all that active, they make a lot of, ahem, suggestive noises while stretching. Love your work, can't wait to see more!!

Rock Lee Helping Reader Stretch

Warnings: Suggestive, borderline NSFW. It’s implied.

Basically: You make noises while stretching that Rock Lee’s horny brain can’t ignore.

Recently, your joints and muscles have been killing you. Maybe your half ass stretching routine wasn’t doing the trick, you figured. Even though you knew change had to happen, you just didn’t know how to stretch your muscles out properly for the extensive training you do with Lee.

Usually he shows up earlier than you, so you don’t see him stretching, but you know he’s keen on making sure he stretches properly so he’s probably stretching for a while beforehand. So you decide to show up 40 minutes before you usually would, seeing him just now setting up to stretch and warmup.

He’d clearly been out jogging prior to this. And in your mind, you know he’s done a runners stretch so isn’t that enough? Why does he need to stretch again? (Him and Gai would both scream at you for this way of thinking)

“Hi Lee.” You greet him with a small smile, already exhausted from the training you haven’t even started just by looking at his energetic, muscular self. Somewhere in your mind, you’ve managed to convince yourself that you’re winded from the walk to the training grounds, and that Lee is not the reason your breath catches in your throat.

You’ve seen him like this for so long, I mean, you’re on the same team as him now. The only 4 person squad, 5 if you count Gai sensei. You’re so close to all of them, and that’s been normal. Perfectly normal. But recently, your eyes linger on Lee just a little too long.

“Oh hey y/n! I didn’t see you there!” He smiles, the white of his teeth flashing at you in the sun line. Sometimes you wonder how he’s so positive, but then again, you don’t mind it so much anymore. He literally glows though, you swear on it.

“Can I ask you a favor?” You ask, suddenly a little nervous. Your palms are sweating. You try to ignore that.

“Of course! What is it that you want to ask?” He asks, enthusiastically. His smile is almost infectious.

“My joints and muscles ‘n shit are killing me. Can you help me stretch? I don’t know what I’m doing wrong…” You move your neck like you’re trying to get out a knot or something.

Lee agrees, and decides to start simple. He has you put your arms behind your back, your hands joined together, and tells you to stretch them back as far as you can. Then do the same with the front.

After that, he has you do a similar thing with your hands joined over your head before moving down to the ground to stretch out your upper body best. Then your shoulders, elbows, and neck all separately. Then he has you get on the ground to stretch out your back.

And maybe he didn’t think too much about the position, but have you stretch your back up and lower yourself down also meant your ass was up in the air as you arched your back. You realize how embarassing the position is, and what you don’t notice is the way his cheeks flush and he pries his eyes away from your body.

“U-uh great! Let’s do legs!” He says rather quickly, helping you to get into as low of a splits position that you can, before having you lean forward. To get the best stretch, he pushes down on your body a tiny bit. And before you can stop yourself, you let out a moan.

His hands still against your back, and your eyes go wide as you freeze too. Soon you feel him move away, telling you to switch sides. And he repeats the same thing on this side. Much to your disdain, an even louder moan accidentally slips from your mouth. Curse yourself for not being able to be quiet at a time like this.

When you finally sit back up, he’s staring at you. You can’t help but gulp down any salvia you had in your mouth. Then you notice the way his hands are covering the front of his pants. When he notices where your eyes shifted, his blush intensifies and he starts stammering.

“I-I am so sorry! I didn’t mean— you were just—“ you cut his rambling off with a kiss, crawling over closer to him. You situate yourself on his lap, his hands darting out for your hips. The kiss doesn’t break until you’re both desperate for more air than you can get with your mouths connected. Before your mutual panting even halts, he smashes his lips back onto your desperately. And at this point, he’s boldly getting handsy.

You can feel the desperation and lust through his finger tips and they find their way around your body. Any curve, dip, anything, he feels for it. And soon he’s laying back on the grass, panting as a string of saliva connects the both of you even as you part.

The look in his eyes told you that what was about to happen at these training grounds should not happen at the training grounds. Your eyes told him you didn’t care the least about that, however.

#rock lee x reader #rock lee smut #Lee x reader #Naruto x reader #naruto shippuden x reader #naruto shippuden #rock lee naruto #naruto rock lee #naruto lee #naruto Shippuden Lee #rock lee shippuden #rock lee x you #rock lee #Naruto smut

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fleurrreads · 7 months

Text

the love you give . rhysand x reader

an: i absolutely love rhys and would absolutely burn down the world for him. god knows he deserves someone who would do for him what he’s done for others.

based on this request

your relationship with rhys is complicated. you’ve been having this friends-who-coincidentally-make-love type of thing going on and you really don’t know how to talk to him about it. yes, he’s told you multiple times during sex how he loves you. but that can all just be the heat of the moment, right? surely the flutter in your heart didn’t mean anything?

just like today is no different. you watch rhys sit up from the bed, grabbing his pants and walking over to your dresser to get one of his shirts that he has recently started leaving in your room. ‘i’m here so much i might just as well start leaving my clothes in here’ he said one afternoon after your activities. it made your heart race, those silly little words.

“what’s going on in that brilliant mind of yours, angel?” rhys moves to sit down on the bed, caressing your hair. you’ve been debating telling him. telling him that he makes your world spin. that he basically *is* your world. the suppressed feelings bubbling over in your heart wasn’t going to be kept dormant for long. you know you have to let it out eventually. what better time than now?

“i’m just thinking about something i’ve been meaning to talk to you about. something i’m not sure i know how to say.” you’re fidgeting with your hands, a nervous tick you’ve acquired through the years. “i don’t know how to phrase this other than saying it flat out, rhys. i like you, a lot. we’ve been friends for so long and i’ve felt that you’re more than just my friend. i love you, rhys.” you don’t dare look at him, too scared of the reaction he might have on his face. you feel the tension before you can look at him, and then he does the unimaginable.

he laughs.

a loud, cackling laugh. you feel your whole body go cold. rhys stands up, nearly doubling over as he tries to gather himself. “post-sex emotions really got you bad today, huh? you’re even confessing your love to me now. that one is new right? we should add that to the list.” he smiles and you feel your whole world spin, not in a good way anymore. you feel like the air has been stolen from your lungs and tears prickle at your lash line. is this what he thought this was? your post-sex hormones being heightened and you confessing out of lust?

you swallow the lump forming in your throat, standing up from the bed and grabbing the nearest piece of clothing to make yourself decent. you need to get out. right now. “you’re right, this was a stupid idea to say this to you and think you’d care. hormones right?” a pathetic excuse for a laugh leaves your lips as you move to the door. you don’t see the smile drop from rhys’ face as you shut the door, making your way to your apartment, away from the townhouse, away from him.

it’s been twelve days. twelve days since you’ve been near the house of wind, the townhouse, and anywhere near him. you couldn’t stand to see his face after he basically insinuated that your confession was that of lust and that you weren’t thinking straight. when in fact you were probably never thinking more clear than that moment. you love him. with your entire heart. it never occurred to you that your heart would be crushed by him too.

a hard collection of knocks rip you from your thoughts as you make your way to the door. amren always had a way of knocking like hell was at her tail, which it probably was now that you think about it… “yes, dear mother, amren you don’t need to knock the door down i’m-“ your voice is cut off as you’re face to face with rhys, a disheveled messy version of him at least. “what do you want, rhys?” your tone is cold, causing him to wince. he nods towards your living room, “can i come in, please? i need to talk to you.”

you nearly give him the loud and obnoxious laugh he gave you twelve days ago when he dismissed your feelings like that so easily. but you push the anger and hurt down, nodding. “make it quick.”

a homemade cup of coffee in hand, rhys sits down on your couch with you on the opposite side. you don’t dare get too close. rhys meets your eyes, trying to decipher what might be going on in your head right now, what you must think of him. he’s had the roughest twelve days. he went over the conversation you had with him at least a hundred times, and each time he relived that look on your face he nearly cried. “i’m sorry for how i reacted that night. i should’ve never let you leave like that. i just didn’t want to believe it.” he says softly, softer than you’ve ever heard him speak. “believe what, rhys?” you tilt your head. “believe that you’d actually love me. this version of me. the one you get to see and others don’t. the side of me that makes me scared, and the one that i can’t show anyone without showing them i’m vulnerable. i couldn’t believe that you’d love that… that ugly part of me. i shouldn’t have said it was just lust clouding your mind. you and i both know you’re much smarter and more thoughtful than that. you wouldn’t just say things like that without meaning it and i should’ve told you this a few days ago already but i was afraid. afraid i messed it up before it could happen. before i could love you and declare it from the top of the snowy mountains.”

your tears are flowing as you look at rhys, really looking at him. he’s shaking, that nervous tick of yours now prominent on him as he’s picking his nails. your heart and mind is running at a million miles a minute and you take a deep breath to ground yourself before you take his hands in yours.

“rhys, i know this took a lot for you to say, and i know that you’re scared. i’m scared too. i’ve never felt like this with anyone before. i love every part of you, especially the parts you don’t show anyone else. it’s like i get a piece of you all to myself. that part of your soul. it’s more intimate than sex, it’s so raw and pure and natural that it feels like someone completely different. not the high lord of the night court, not the rhysand your family sees, just rhys. my rhys. those things don’t make you ugly, rhys. they make you strong, and powerful and amazing. that’s why i wanted you to know that someone can love those parts of you too. not just the charismatic, sarcastic persona you put on for your friends and loved ones. and not the cold, ruthless leader that the court of nightmares believes you to be. but just you. the true you. i love everything about you, all of it.”

rhys kisses you, passionately. you’ve never had a kiss like this with him. never one with such meaning as this. this one was different. as to say ‘thank you for loving me even when it’s hard to see why’ and you realise that you’d burn the world down for him if he asked. he deserves the world, and so much more. everything he has sacrificed for his people and his family, he deserves that same sacrifices made for him tenfold.

he cups your cheek, whispering so softly you nearly don’t catch it but it makes all the heartbreak and doing it all again worth it, “i love you. until my last dying breath.”

i do not allow my works to be copied, put into any ai website etc.

shares and reblogs are highly appreciated! ♡

#rhysand x reader #rhysand x you #rhysand x y/n #rhysand #rhysand acotar #rhysand angst #rhysand fluff #rhysand comfort #rhysand fic #acotar x you #acotar x y/n #acotar x reader

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danikamariewrites · 1 year

Note

Can u write a rhysand or azriel or maybe both in which there both in a ddlg relationship where they give reader princess treatment and and she just wants to be good for them

Ddlg poly!Batboys x reader

A/n: I thought we’d throw Cass in there too bc I simply couldn’t resist 😂

Warnings: ddlg, pet names, nsfw themes, and slight violence

Being with all 3 of them is amazing but tough at first

Rhys Cass and Az would all be so competitive for your attention

Eventually you guys figure out a routine and are comfortable with each other

The first time you call them all daddy they’re so happy bc all they want is to keep you safe and happy. They love the deep trust you have with them

Sometimes for fun or when you want their attention you just call out “Daddy!” From whatever room your in just to see which one of the boys will get to you first

Rhys cheats and winnows to where ever you are while Cass and Az basically fight each other to get through the door first

There are times when you want to be around one of them more than the others

You always feel bad bc you don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings but they’ve told you a million times that they don’t care as long as you’re happy

You spend a lot of time with Rhys since Cass and Az go away a lot

When they come back you get very clingy with them

Cass can be the clingiest out of the 3 especially if he’s been in Windhaven for a while

He will carry you around the house and keep you on his lap all day

“Need my sweetheart with me. I missed you so much I can’t get enough of you.” He’d say when you ask why he’s carrying you

It’s rare that they have a bad day. Stressful, yes, but they can always bounce back

They do confide in you and you love being there to comfort them

Az is usually the one who can be down sometimes after a mission and you always make him feel better

Azriel would be brooding in one of the big Illyrian arm chairs in a sitting room no one else uses in the house of wind when you find him

He’d be so lost in thought he wouldn’t even hear you come in

You’d be a little shy, worried you’re bothering him

Approaching Az you lay your hand gently on his shoulder. He looks up at you with tired eyes and a small smile, “hi daddy,” you whisper. “Can I sit with you?” Azriel pulls you onto his lap and buries his face in the crook of your neck breathing in your scent

“I know this mission was hard for you Azriel, but I’m here for you. In whatever way you need me.” Azriel hugs you tighter to his body. “Thank you princess. I feel better already.”

You two just sit there and you play with his hair as you whisper sweet nothings to each other

When Rhys and Cass find you, you’ve fallen asleep holding on to each other

If you’ve had a bad day the boys drop everything to tend to you

Your typical bad day remedy is a nice bath, Cassian massaging your shoulders, wearing their comfy clothes, cuddling with Rhys as Azriel reads to you

Cassian will make you hot cocoa (I’m convinced he’s a good chef, anything he makes is delicious and he has a great hot chocolate recipe you can’t change my mind)

If you’ve had a really bad day and your crying they immediately want to know who or what made you so upset so they can take care of it

You came home crying your eyes out one day after you had hung out with your friends bc someone cat called you on the way home and Azriel was ready to murder the male

Rhys reigned him in while Cass held you on the couch

They did find the male and beat him up

The boys each have a different nickname for you

Rhys calls you darling (obvi), Cass calls you sweetheart, and Az calls you princess but when it comes to sex I think they all call you bunny

The 3 of them give you nothing but princess treatment all the time

They wait on you hand and foot and buy you whatever your heart desires

They’re always gentle with you too. They’ll never raise their voices at you, they never get mad at you, or manhandle you (unless you want them to)

They hate being strict with you

When they are strict with you they either punish you or give you a stern talking to

You try not to be a brat, that gets you the worst punishment

Yes, you have rules and you rarely break them. You do like to push their buttons sometimes by saying no and stomping around the house when you’re in a bad mood. Rhys, Cass, and Az hate when you don’t tell them what’s wrong

Your typical punishment differs on which bat boy is in charge. With Rhys he shows you memories of when you’re being pleasured by them until you’re so needy you’re on your knees apologizing and begging them to touch you. Cass favors cockwarming or spanking until you’re practically crying needing them. Azriel uses his shadows to tie you up lightly touching you, leaving you in bed all day until they think you’ve had enough

All you want is to be good for them but sometimes you just can’t help yourself

When you are good they always reward you with your favorite dessert or take you shopping or new books

Rhys loves to give extravagant surprises like romantic dates or vacations

Time with each of them is different bc they each like different things

Rhys loves to take you out to eat or walk in town

Cassian will always work out with you, he was hell bent on training you when the relationship first started so you’d be able to defend yourself on the off chance none of the boys are there to defend you

Azriel is happy to do whatever you want to do. Usually you like when he reads to you cuddled up on the couch

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yeoja-dream · 8 months

Text

Found/Fated/Forever

Part 1 Part 2

Pairing: BTS OT7 x Reader Genre: Fantasy, eventual smut, porn with plot, slow burn, hurt/comfort Characters: Supernatural!BTS, Vampire!Jungkook, Supernatural!Reader Content Warning: Y/N in danger Word Count: 3,100

“You want to WHAT?” You asked him, eyes wide,

“Lower your voice! Someone next to you is gonna hear you yelling like that and call the bouncer.” He hissed.

“Well I’m thinking that might be the right idea considering what the hell you just proposed to me.” you hissed back.

“It’s not that crazy!” He insisted. “I step out of line, you blast me with radiant damage as hard as you can and if you don’t outright kill me, you’ll take the wind out of my sails plenty long enough to get far away from me.”

You regarded him for a moment. “You JUST got through saying you had SIX mates. I know having two or three is rare, but you expect me to believe that you might have a SEVENTH mate and it might be me? We were vibing just now but I don’t know if we were vibing that hard.”

“I also told you it's the same with each of my mates, something tells me I need to be somewhere, and by a crazy coincidence, we meet.” He adds. “I will know right away!”

“Ugh!” You sighed, exasperated, resting your head in your hands. “You know 3 hours ago I walked into this club single, happy, looking to get drunk and have an easy fuck to forget a shitty day, and I’m walking out having saved a woman from a demon rapist, pissed off or turned on that demon rapist, and now I have a marriage proposal from the aether.”

“I can help with some of those issues, I think? You lost me there for a second I’m not going to lie to you.”

You didn’t reply.

“Look, I don’t want to pressure you. We had a great conversation over a strange and scary happenstance, and if you would rather go our separate ways as strangers having never learned the truth, then I respect that choice. Or the cheap fuck, if that option is still on the table.”

You smacked him for the later remark. You sat, contemplative, and as if sensing you needed space, Jungkook excused himself for a cigarette, leaving you alone with your watered-down whiskey and your thoughts.

I mean what are the chances right? He takes a little nibble, he spits it out, I take him back to mine, and we test out that vampiric stamina. It’s basically impossible that 1 person has 7 soul mates! You reasoned. On the other hand the one in a million, no billion, no TRILLION chances that you are this guy’s 7th sister wife what does that mean? Do I join his commune? They probably have a commune. Am I bonded to his other wives? Are they also vampires? I don’t think I have enough blood to go around. You rub your temples, frustration rising higher and higher in your body. I could also not choose. You reminded yourself. I could go home, forget this man, forget this night, and have everything go back to normal.

Interrupting your thought process, David approached you. “You look mighty stressed.”

“Yes!” You just about yelled at him. “Sorry, yes.” You said in a calmer tone.

“Bar’s chill for the minute, what's up?”

You obviously couldn’t tell him the truth, but what if you were vague? Vague was okay. “I was confronted with a life-altering choice, and I don’t know what to do.”

“Well, how do you usually make choices?” He asked, leaning back on the bar and crossing his arms.

“I don’t. I find that fate has a way of making decisions for me.”

“Well…” He shrugged, digging in his apron pocket. He slid forward a shiny, silver coin on the table. “You can have fate choose for you again.”

You looked at him, then the coin. It’s my best bet. You thought to yourself, sliding the coin off the bar and into your hand, feeling the weight of it. May this lead me to the path of my destiny you willed into the coin before giving it a toss.

The coin landed, and you understood what it was you had to do.

~~~~

You met Jungkook on the street, just as he put a cigarette out on the cold pavement.

“Hello,” he regarded you warmly.

“I’ve decided.” You tell him. “Strings of fate and all that horse shite. I will blast the shit out of you if you take more than I tell you.”

“You have my honor and my word.” He replied, punctuated with a dramatic bow.

“Remember, blasting! And not the fun kind!” You warned him again, finger pointed sternly.

“I would be disappointed in you if you gave me anything less.”

“Anywhere really. I mean somewhere a little private. Like I said I just need a sip and I will know.”

“Is my house okay? I mean you said you’d fuck me so I’d figure it was alright.” You asked, feeling shy suddenly.

“Oh yeah, that’s fine!” Jungkook said. “I mean I was joking about the fuck thing I mean I just said it because you said it!”

You looked at him with a strange expression.

“Not that I wouldn’t! You are extremely attractive! If you wanted to I would definitely be down don’t get me wrong I just-” He cut himself off. “I am making this so much worse for myself, aren’t I?”

“Very much so.” You said as you opened your umbrella and stepped out from under the awning. “Shut up and let’s go before I change my mind. The Uber will be here in a minute.”

~~~~~

You lived in a one-bedroom place in a modest part of town, inside an apartment block that never seemed to be quiet, with the exception of this moment. Jungkook sat politely at your small kitchen table, you stood and leaned against a kitchen counter, the silence hanging between the two of you only interrupted by the sound of the rain hammering at the window, and the kettle steadily coming to a boil. You regarded him again for a moment, before turning to your cabinets and pulling out two mismatched mugs.

“The tea will be done in a minute.” You said, ripping open the tea bags, setting one in each cup. A few more minutes of silence passed before Jungkook stood suddenly.

“I’ve never done this before,” He blurted.

You take a moment to process what it is he could mean by that. He’s mated so he’s certainly not a virgin, seems to be over a hundred so it’s not his first time drinking blood you thought, before your mind wanders further. I did not just invite this man into my home to kill me. Tell me I did not invite this man into my home to murder me. God DAMN it, I fell for his stupid necklace and that incubus is probably waiting for his signal nearby.

“I suggest you explain yourself quickly and clearly, because it is sounding to me like what you’ve never done is have your ass blasted as hard as I am about to.” You said, turning around slowly, eyes locked on him. No funny business dude.

“I wasn’t completely truthful with you before. A lie by omission I guess which doesn’t trip up the necklace but I am going to stop rambling because you seem really justifiably mad.” He said putting his hands up. You took a step closer, energy beginning to crackle at your palms.

“Every single time I met my mates, I was called to meet them by happenstance. That is true. But every single time they knew, or guessed we might be mates before I did. So I have never personally tested the whole “someone else’s blood or energy should be poison to me” theory.”

“So you have no idea if this is even going to work!?” You yelled at him, palms crackling further. “So I’ve just invited you into my home so you can what, make a snack out of me?”

“I know it works!” Jungkook countered, taking a step back as if almost cowering.

“How?!” You demanded, lowering your magic a bit. You weren’t going to kill him, not yet anyway.

“30 years ago!” Jungkook blurted nervously. “One of my hyungs, we got into a huge fight and he ran away for a few months. He subsists on energy, and when he tried to take from people that he wasn’t mated to, it poisoned him. Badley. He was starving and as close to death when we finally found him.”

You look at his necklace and wait. No glow. So he was telling the truth. You lowered your guard completely.

“Jesus Christ dude you can’t phrase it that way! I thought you were going to say “I’ve never done this before, never murdered!” and then jumped me with that incubus freak.”

“No, you are right about that and I am really sorry.” He took a step back toward you, sitting back at the table.

“If you know it works,” You began, pouring the now boiling water into each prepared mug. “You didn’t have to tell me you’d never tried it personally.” You said, placing each up on the table and joining him at the opposite seat. “It has no bearing on the outcome for you, so why did you feel the need to tell me?”

“Ah well,” he began, stirring a scoop of sugar into his tea idly. “I’m a stranger, asking you to make a big leap of faith that sure, benefits you, but also benefits me. I couldn’t sit right with knowing you didn’t have every piece of information I could offer you.”

“I… appreciate that.” You remarked, dumping 3 ice cubes into your tea. “I don’t like to wait for it to cool,” you admitted, somewhat sheepishly.

“No, I don’t get the impression you do like to wait for much,” Jungkook replied, offering his cup to cheers with yours. You clink mugs and drink your tea in comfortable silence.

~~~~~

“So how is this done usually?” You asked him, standing face to face in your combined living room and bedroom area.

“Truthfully?” He asked you.

“Truthfully.” You confirmed.

“My kind typically have been the stalk you, grab you and lure you into a dark alleyway and drain you of all your blood or charm you with magic and charisma and lure you to a place where we do the same thing, sort of people.”

“I am confirming that that is not what we are trying to accomplish?” You half-jokingly asked.

“That is not what we are trying to accomplish.” He confirmed. “I want you to be comfortable. However, wherever would be the most comfortable for you is where I want to do it.”

“Um, okay.” You looked around. “I guess for me that would be my bed, that isn’t weird right?”

“Not at all,” He confirmed, allowing you to lead the way.

“But-” You stopped halfway before getting onto your bed. “It’s just my duvet is white, maybe I should put down a towel? In case things get messy.”

He scoffed at that. “I am not such a pedestrian, I reckon I have been drinking blood since you were born.”

“Are you sure about that?” You looked him up and down. Vampires didn’t age, sure, but surely he couldn’t be THAT much older than you, right?

“If I get so much as a drop on your duvet, I will replace it with any duvet of your choice.” He said, placing his hand on his heart.

“It doesn’t mean that much when you place your hand over an undead heart.” You said knocking his hand off his own chest. “But you’re not glowing, so I will take your word for it.” You said, sitting down. “Come, sit.” You invited him with a pat on the bed. He obliged.

“Hey,” You began, after letting a few beats of silence pass. “Do you think we could just lay side by side for a few minutes?”

“Oh, yeah, sure.” He said, following your lead and sliding himself up the bed, laying comfortably on one side, you on the other.

A long silence hung in the air. “I fuck strangers and this is somehow the most intimate I’ve been with one ever.” You remarked sarcastically. Jungkook chuckled lightly in response,

“Me too.”

More silence hung, heavy in the room. You laid back, eyes boring holes into the ceiling. He too laid, unmoving, this is all on your terms he was communicating. You shut your eyes.

“What does it feel like?” You whisper.

“The bite, or the connection?”

“Both”

“The bite hurts for a second, but it goes away pretty fast. Vampire venom has powerful numbing properties. Some people even feel peace or euphoria, it's supposed to keep you from running from us once we have you.” He paused before continuing. “The connection is, overwhelming, in a word. Everything in your body turns up to 11, you become very magically charged, emotionally charged, physically charged and, uh, sexually…” He cleared his throat. “Charged.” He finished.

You sat in silence, digesting that information. You roll over on your side, facing him, he mirrors you.

You spent a few more minutes, studying his face in earnest. At this proximity, there was a boyishness quality you didn’t notice from far away. It was cute, even, bunny-like, and as you stared at him, you searched your mind, your heart, your soul, desperately looking for recognition, the easy way out, one last chance to avoid the leap of faith.

“What if I am mated to you?” You whisper

“We will figure it out.”

“How?”

“Do you trust me?”

“I don’t know.”

“Before we begin, I told you before you might lose some of your sense once we begin. Where is a line too far? Where should I stop you? Where should I stop me?”

“The troubled, sarcastic, sad part of me knows I can’t trust anyone.” You said, raising your hand to cup his cheek. “But something deep inside of me is telling me that you are truly good people. And for once, I am not going to push this one away.” You whispered, voice wavering. “Just, don’t hurt me, okay?”

He didn’t reply, but he held your gaze.

“Jungkook?” You ask softly.

“Hm?”

“Would you kiss me please?”

He then scooted closer to you and mirroring the motion you did before, he raised a hand, cupped your face gently, and placed a single, lingering kiss on your lips. He pulled away slightly, but a centimeter, I’m ready, but only when you are, he communicated to you. You closed the gap this time, I’m ready.

The kiss started off slow, chaste, even as two bodies, two energies tentatively explored the other in the more intimate environment. Jungkook was a good kisser, you decided, firm, but not too pushy. He allowed you to set the pace, the intensity, but what you gave he took readily. You parted your lips to him, and he took them greedily, using his free hand to hook around your back and drag you across the bed and completely flush with his body. You found your arm folded into his chest, the building intensity causing you to grip the fabric. You kissed greedily now, hungrily, like lovers long since reunited. It felt good, it felt right, you also decided. Kissing him was like the gentle respect and deep intimacy shared between two people who had loved each other for a long, long time. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt it, and you wanted more.

Your arms were at a disadvantage, pinned against his muscular chest, but you used the position to pull yourself closer and closer still. You needed more of him. You wanted more of him.

“Jungkook…” you whispered against his lips, a plea.

“I know, God I want you too.” He whispered back his arm like an iron bar across your lower back holding you in place. “But we have to do this first, sex makes everything so messy and confusing.” He broke away from your lips, kissing up your jaw bone stopping at your ear. “I’m gonna do it now, okay?” He whispered.

“Okay.” You confirmed. You found yourself then, in a swift move on your back with him straddled across your waist. From this angle, his baggy pants tented visibly over his crotch, the sight of which alone wound your core up so tight, you wondered if you’d cum immediately when he slips it in. He didn’t give you long to appreciate the view, as he leaned over you, face to face, and continued to kiss you. Your tongues didn’t battle but danced in harmony, and as you felt your hips rise to grind against the hardness so close to where you needed it, he broke away from your lips again, panting, he again peppered kisses up your jawline, but then down your neck this time gently sucking and licking on his way down, leaving you breathless. He settled on the spot but gave the skin special attention, the sensation of which had you sighing and running your fingers through his hair.

When he was finally satisfied, he wasted no further time and sank his teeth in, the sensation of which made you yelp in pain. He didn’t lie about the pain. After a brief pause, you felt the sensation of him drinking you in. He swallowed once, came up for a breath, and in that moment, from head to toe, it was like you had both been struck by lightning.

Overwhelming wasn’t the right word for it. Euphoric. Pure energy crackled and popped at your skin, literal sparks flying off at the points your skin connected. It was painful, you thought, but everything felt so amazing it faded into the background. Joy, pure joy radiated through your body. In fact, you can’t recall a time when you had ever felt this light-hearted and happy.

In the same moment, as euphoria washed over you, Jungkook’s demeanor changed and with a visceral, animalistic grunt, he dove back in sucking at your neck. The sensation was divine.

“More, more” You found yourself begging again and again. He was like an immovable object in his current positioning, but you allowed yourself the luxury with your now-free hands to slip under his baggy shirt, relishing in the corded muscle of his back and biceps.

The more he drank, the closer it seemed you got to the edge of something great. As something darker and harder to control overcame Jungkook, he didn’t notice when your enthusiastic pleas for more turned into incoherent babbling, and only when he had his fill, and the dark that consumed him receded, did he finally realize that you had fallen silent for quite some time.

He pulled away from your neck and examined your body in horror. Limp, and unmistakably ashen. You looked like a corpse.

“Y/N,” He said, panic in his voice, shaking your shoulder. “Y/N!” he said louder now, yelling and shaking you as violently as he dared.

Fuck.

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

I told you guys one after the other! Like I said in the last post, I'm working on intertwined, that update might go up today or tomorrow, depending on what I'm feeling, I only promised this post! I also mentioned before that I will update the tags once I reveal which bts member is what/ what Y/N is but try to guess below! You might be right~

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nr1chaedickrider · 7 months

Text

In my imagination, you're waiting lying on your side - it seems like once again you've had to greet me with goodbye.

In many ways, our memories shape who we are. They make up our internal biographies—the stories we tell ourselves about what we've done with our lives. They tell us who we're connected to, who we've touched during our lives, and who has touched us. They provide important details of who we are and who we would like to be.

for @namojoon.

The process of healing wounds is long, painful and exhausting.

Sometimes it hurts even more than what has happened.

At least that's how you would describe your healing process.

You look through the window of your small but pleasant house.

After Momo died - or rather, was murdered - you decided to stop serving as a knight for your kingdom for the time being.

Of course, you promised Tzuyu that she could always come to you in an emergency, that you would forever be a knight serving her kingdom without hesitation.

Letting go was difficult, sometimes you even had the feeling that Momo was still standing in front of you, laughing, crying and doing everything with you.

Maybe you still haven't let go completely, maybe you never will, you just know (or at least hope) that things have gotten better.

You still wonder what happened to Sana.

Even if you partly don't want to know, a part of your body -

a tiny part of your body -

worries about her.

And you hate yourself for it.

You walk through the kingdom, making a, well, daily detour by her grave.

You kneel down in front of the grave, brush down a leaf.

Every time you are there, you make sure that it stays clean, that there is no damage.

Somehow you have the feeling that you have to do it, but you don't mind.

"I love you" you whisper, your hand slowly stroking the engraved words.

You've partly gotten into the habit of not reading what's written on it, maybe it's a sign of ignorance.

But you just feel better if you don't have to read the words every time.

You don't always have to be reminded.

'Hirai Momo, a fighter, a person full of love'

You hate reading it every time.

You sigh softly and get up.

One last look at her grave - even though you know you'll be back tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that, and so on.

You wipe away the tear that runs down your cheek.

The path to the village is quiet, the birds are chirping, the wind is almost non-existent.

You greet the people who walk past you and realize that they still treat you differently.

Their eyes are full of concern.

The only thing people think of when they see you is -

"Poor her. I wonder how she's doing"

And you don't know whether you should think it's good or bad that that's all they think about.

"Y/n!" someone shouts, you turn around and see Chaeyoung walking towards you.

"I've been looking for you for the last few days, can you come with me?" she asks.

You're confused, but nod. She takes you by the wrist and pulls you along as you both walk to her house.

She sits you down on a chair in her living room as she walks around.

You know she often has a lot of energy - but this much?

She comes back with a small bottle, the contents liquid and yellow in color.

She looks at you after placing the bottle on the table in front of you.

"Okay. You have to listen to me, let me finish, because it's going to sound weird at first," she says, and you nod.

"Have you ever heard of the theory of the multiverse?" she asks.

You shake your head - you've never been interested in all the theories, you've always preferred to think about what's happening in the present, what "makes sense" to you.

"Okay..." she starts to say, thinking before continuing,

"So, basically, the theory is the idea that the observable universe, the universe we're in right now, is only a part of the whole reality, and there's supposed to be a multiverse that contains numerous possible universes," she explains, and you look at her, slightly confused.

Chaeyoung takes a breath and tries to say it as simply as possible.

"It may be that you can travel through universes to see other situations and worlds, do you get the idea?" she asks.

"I think... but why are you telling me this? and why the bottle?" you reply.

"How can I say this..." she mumbles.

"Since... Since Momo is gone, I've been working on something, and I think... I think you can travel through the multiverse with this potion," Chaeyoung replies.

You look at her and feel your mood change completely when she mentions Momo.

"But... But why are you telling me exactly?" you ask.

"Because I need someone to try it out... and I think you deserve it the most. Because if it really works, you can see Momo in other universes.

In ones where she's not dead," she says.

In which ones where she's not dead?

You swallow as you look down at the floor, then back up at Chaeyoung.

"How likely is it that it will really work?"

"Pretty much," she replies.

"I'll do it," you say.

"Really? Are you sure? It could be dangerous"

"I have nothing to lose anyway"

Chaeyoung nods.

"No one can see you while you're traveling, which means you can go anywhere you want. But after a certain time, you may end up in another universe"

"Okay"

"Drink it, and when you feel dizzy, it will start to work" she says.

"I'll stay here and make sure everything goes well"

You nod and pick up the bottle.

"Okay" you say, but somehow you say it more to yourself.

You pull the cork out of the bottle and the pungent smell immediately hits your nose before you drink it.

You put the bottle back down and take a deep breath.

In and out.

In -

And out.

But before you can concentrate more on your breathing, you feel a stinging sensation in your head.

Chaeyoung is standing next to you, paying attention to how you're feeling.

"I think-"

You can't finish your sentence as your eyes suddenly close and it feels like you're being thrown around.

Your eyes open as you see lights everywhere, some colorful and some so dark you can't even call them lights anymore.

Your body floats and you try to look around, but your head won't move.

You try to reach somewhere, but you fall to the ground before you can do it.

The first thing you feel is grass under your fingertips.

You slowly open your eyes and look around, but the only thing you see are trees.

You stand up, pacing back and forth before you hear voices.

You walk through the bushes to see who's talking,

And even though you expected it, it's still so strange.

In front of you is Momo, holding a sword.

Opposite her - it's you.

It's like the first time you saw her.

"You shouldn't be here," says your other self.

"Says who?" asks Momo.

You run towards her and attack her, but Momo quickly moves out of the way.

This is a universe where you and Momo are enemies.

Just like at the beginning.

You continue to watch as the two of you fight each other.

Blades clashing, the tension high and thick.

"What are you doing here?" your other self asks through clenched teeth.

"What are you thinking? Hm?" Momo asks teasingly.

It looks like you've had enough, because you push her away -

and thrust the tip of the sword into her throat.

You are startled when you see it, Momo falls to the ground with a stupid grin on her face.

"That-...that was a mistake...," she says, choking on her own blood and your other self pulls out the sword.

The sight of Momo hurts your heart.

It reminds you too much of the night she died in your universe.

The fact that this is another universe though, calms you a little.

Your other self leaves Momo alone and walks away.

So you go to her, even though she can't see or feel you.

Her gasping for breath worries you as you kneel before her.

"Momo..." you whisper, even though you know she can't hear you.

You're actually just talking to yourself.

It's as if she's looking at you - and a part of you hopes so, so much that she'll somehow realize that you're there, that she'll somehow feel you.

You sigh softly, but not a disappointed sigh.

Momo stops breathing - stares into the distance without any emotion on her face.

The sight could make you cry.

But before you can look at her any longer, you feel something strange in your body.

The effects of the potion kick in again.

You stand up and look down at Momo one last time.

Your eyes close as the lights start to flicker again.

And again it feels like you're being thrown around.

You land on your knees on a floor, a stone floor to be precise.

Your eyes open and try to adjust to the light.

As you look around, you realize that you are in a church.

Upon closer inspection, you realize that it is the church in Tzuyu's kingdom.

You stand up and look around.

It is empty - except for two voices that break the silence.

You walk towards it - and see a confessional.

And then you see yourself, on your knees.

Your head is bowed as a priest comes to you.

"Why are you here, my child?" he asks in a calm voice.

"I have come to confess my sins, Father. I'm afraid I've done something bad." you reply, your voice has a hint of fear in it.

"What have you done?" he asks.

Your other self takes a breath and then starts talking.

"I was seduced by a woman. It's as if she stole my heart and took it as her own. I can't think of anything but her.

And I don't know what to do, father."

When you hear your words, you don't know how to react.

You wouldn't claim to be a religious person, but seeing you ask a priest for help somehow hurts your heart.

In this universe, you can't accept that you love Momo.

In this universe, you are afraid.

And this feeling is a little too familiar.

"My child, don't be afraid," the priest begins to say,

"It's good that you've come here to confess your sins to the Lord,

And he will forgive you for loving a woman. Pray for him every night,

and he will help you to stop,

and your heart will be yours again."

You bite your lower lip, not knowing how to react.

You'd like to tell your other self that you should do what you want.

That it's completely stupid to listen to the priest.

That you should keep loving Momo.

As long as you have the chance.

But your other self nods, thanks the priest for his help and leaves the church.

You run after her, wondering where she's going.

"Y/n!" Momo shouts, running to you with a smile.

In this universe, you two are not knights.

"What were you doing in church?" she asks.

You're just two friends.

You shake your head and say that it was nothing important.

Momo doesn't ask any more questions, but takes your hand and says that she has to show you something.

She pulls the other you away and you are now standing alone in the village.

You look around and see Tzuyu walking around smiling.

It somehow makes you happier to see that she's doing well.

But you notice something -

She's holding a man's hand?

You look confused, and then it occurs to you.

Not in every universe is she with Dahyun.

And you think that's why Dahyun looks so sad as she walks alongside Tzuyu.

It somehow looks weird - seeing Dahyun and Tzuyu not linked together and giggling like teenagers in love.

Your confusion disappears pretty fast as the man gets distracted and Tzuyu shoots a smile at Dahyun.

Her cheeks flushed when she smiles back, her hand on Tzuyu's for a second until she pulls back to not raise awarness on them.

Dahyun is not a queen in this universe, but just a normal girl.

A normal girl who is hopelessly in love with her friend.

And somehow it reminds you a little of your situation.

You sigh slightly.

You walk in the direction Momo pulled your other self towards, but you fall to the ground and can't walk any further.

The effects of the potion are already kicking in again.

"So fast...?" you ask yourself as your eyes close.

The same thing happens again -

Your body is thrown back and forth, the lights flicker and after a certain amount of time you land on the ground.

The first thing you hear Momo's voice.

Then yours.

And finally -

Sana's.

Sana's voice?

Hearing her talk, so happy, without a care in the world, makes you angry.

And how you wish she could see you, because if she could, you'd kill her with your bare hands.

Without hesitation.

You get up and walk towards the voices.

The closer you get, the more you can hear what they are talking about.

You hear laughter -

and moaning?

Moaning?

And when you stand in front of them, you are more shocked than you have probably ever been.

Momo's hand is in your pants, Sana's mouth is on your neck.

In this universe, all is well between the three of you.

No hate, no sadness, no one betraying the other.

You keep staring at them - it's like you can't take your eyes off them.

Somehow this is a dream.

Maybe even the universe you would prefer to live in?

"I love you," Sana says, leaving kisses all over your body.

"I love you," says Momo as she pushes her fingers in and out of you.

"I love you too," you moan.

Sana loves you?

Momo loves you?

You love them both?

It's as if all your negative thoughts about Sana are gone - you just want to jump into her arms.

The sight brings tears to your eyes, seeing how this is your dream universe.

And somehow you are glad that you can feel yourself getting dizzy and that the potion is starting to work again.

Your eyes close.

When they open again, the sun blinds you.

You get up and look around you.

A small river, a meadow with beautiful, colorful flowers.

There are no houses nearby and you wonder where exactly you are.

You walk around a bit and realize how this place resembles the tales of paradise.

"Where am I..." you mumble.

Several meters further on, however, you finally see people.

Two people, to be precise.

And as you get closer, you see it.

Mina and Sana?

"Mina," says Sana, as if she had been looking for her for ages.

"Sana," Mina replies, with a smile.

While Sana is dressed fairly normally, Mina is wearing a white dress.

The fabric looks quite thin, fine patterns are depicted on the dress.

She looks like an angel.

"I've missed you so much" says Sana, her expression so... soft?

"I missed you too Sana" Mina says and comes closer, her arms open and Sana almost runs towards her.

They hug, and you even think you hear a sob from Sana.

The two slowly let go, Sana looking at nothing but Mina.

"I'm so sorry. I wish you were still here..." Sana says, wiping a tear away from her cheek.

"Don't be sorry Sana," Mina starts to say.

You question whether you're even in a universe right now, or whether you've landed here on a spiritual level,

However, this is Sana's last farewell to Mina.

You are here in a place where the dead can communicate with the living.

"It's not your fault Sana,

or anyone else's," she says.

Sana nods a little, the tears still streaming down her cheeks.

"I love you," says Mina.

"I love you too. Forever and ever." Sana replies.

As you listen to them, it all starts to make sense.

Sana didn't love you, or Momo, or anyone else.

She loved Mina, and she died.

That's why Sana was so angry with Momo.

"I will never forget you, I will never stop honoring you, until my last breath I will think of you." Sana says and Mina takes Sana's hand in hers.

Mina has a reassuring smile on her lips.

"Thank you for being here," says Mina.

"I wish you could stay here longer, but your time in paradise is slowly coming to an end Sana" she says, her thumb stroking Sana's hand.

"I know," she sighs slightly, but then smiles at Mina again.

"So this is our final goodbye?" asks Sana, Mina nods.

"I'll always be with you" says Mina.

Sana nods.

"I love you." she says again, and before Mina can say it back, Sana slowly dissolves and disappears.

Mina looks down at the floor and repeats Sana's words to herself.

When she looks up again, she looks you in the eye.

You look left and right to see if anyone else is standing there, but no.

She's looking at you, no one else.

She walks over to you and stops right in front of you.

"You're Y/n, aren't you?" asks Mina.

"Y-yes. You can see me?" you reply, and she nods,

"Have you been listening to us?" she asks.

"Yes,

I didn't know you and Sana had such a relationship" you say, Mina smiles a little.

"She doesn't like to talk about it. But yes, I was her lover" is Mina's answer.

You nod a little, trying to understand everything that has just happened.

Trying to understand how you can talk to a dead person.

"Momo told me about you," she says, breaking the silence.

"She told you about me? You talked to Momo?" you ask.

"Yes. I was watching when... when the accident happened" she answers.

"She told me that if she could, she would do anything to see you again," says Mina, raising her hand.

"Your potion is slowly losing its effect" Mina puts her hand on your forehead and you wonder what exactly is going to happen now.

But before you can ask anything, your eyes close.

As they open, you are blinded by a bright white light.

You stand up slowly and look around, but see nothing.

Everything is white, the floor is straight without any bumps or curves, and nothing is in sight.

This place looks like it does in dreams, when you try to escape but can't.

The more you walk around you realize that it makes no sense, everywhere is white and you are completely alone here.

"Y/n" you hear a voice behind you calling after you.

You don't move, don't breathe, don't even dare to blink.

"Y/n" the voice repeats.

You slowly realize that this moment is not a dream.

It is real.

You slowly turn around and look her in the eye.

Momo is standing in front of you.

Her clothes match the white surroundings, and you hate it.

She's dressed like Mina, like an angel.

You stare at her, trying to breathe evenly.

"Momo?" you say, but it comes out more like a question.

"It's real," she replies.

It is real.

You slowly calm down, or rather try to.

In some way it feels like the first time you saw her -

You unsheathe your sword and slowly walk towards the noise. Peering through the bushes, you see a knight.

Or rather, a female knight.

Her rather long black hair is tied up in a ponytail. Her forehead is covered by a fringe. You only see her side profile, but it's like she was gifted by Aphrodite. While she breathes, her plump, pink-ish lips slightly part. Her sword is stuck in the grass next to her. She sits on a bigger stone, her armor less than yours. Her chest and stomach are protected, a helmet in her left hand, but you can see her well-trained arms. A few veins peek out on her hands, probably because of the heat.

But wait a minute. She is a knight. A stranger in your kingdom, which you are supposed to protect.

You got too distracted and she used that.

Flashbacks of the first meeting come into your head, your mind full of them.

You walk slowly towards her, as if she were dangerous, as if she were an enemy you should be afraid of.

"I never thought you could be so emotional," says Momo, turning her head in your direction, which is now partially submerged.

"Me neither," you admit.

"It's strange. Being here, in the water. With you." you say and look at her too.

"We're enemies," she replies and laughs a little.

Unfortunately.

You think, but it scares you to say it.

You're standing right in front of her.

She's standing in front of you.

No imagination, not those stupid dreams you've always had since she left.

She's really standing in front of you.

"I feel like we've just met for the first time," you say, Momo laughs a little.

"I feel the same way," she replies.

You feel the tears coming.

Before you regret it, you move closer.

You kiss Momo on her lips, your hands on her hips, the grip so strong that someone could think you're afraid she'll suddenly just disappear.

And that's exactly your fear right now.

She kisses you back.

You kiss Momo.

Memories of your first kiss come flooding back.

You close the distance between the two of you, her soft lips on yours as she dares not move.

This time it's different.

It's not a stupid dream you're having because you're confused about your feelings for Momo.

It's all more real.

And you want it, so, so much.

You slowly pull back, Momo smiles at you.

"I- I missed you so much," you say as tears run down your cheek.

"I missed you too, believe me," she replies, wiping away your tears.

"I think about you every day, and... and I always visit your grave and and-" you start sobbing, completely overwhelmed by the situation.

Momo interrupts you.

"Shh... I know, trust me"

"I was there when you visited my grave, when you were talking.

I'm sorry I couldn't answer your questions," she says.

"Why not in this one?" you ask.

"Why couldn't you just find me in this universe?" you ask.

"I wish so much that I could have found you in this universe. So much." she says.

"You're so strong for handling it so well"

"But that's the thing. I don't handle it well,

Every time I just want to sleep, I dream about you." you reply, feeling the tears growing.

"Either I dream about you smiling at me. With that stupid grin that I miss so much..." you take a deep breath,

"Or I dream of your face covered in blood"

Momo looks at you,

and suddenly her face is covered in blood.

Sana's sword is suddenly stuck in her head before she pulls it out.

She topples over, onto the dirty ground, onto the grass.

She doesn't move, just lies there.

Not a single breath, no stupid grin, nothing.

"I dream so often about that one night..." you say quietly, your voice cracking while you try to hold back your tears.

"I know," Momo replies.

"I'm so sorry you had to watch it happen like that."

"I love you," you say.

"I love you too, so much," she replies.

You look at her, slightly startled, confused, surprised.

It's the first time Momo has ever said that she loves you.

The first and the last time.

"You have to go slowly," says Momo.

"The effect is wearing off"

You nod slowly.

"So this is our final goodbye?" you ask, Momo nods.

"I'll be with you forever" Momo says and hugs you tightly.

This time she is the one who is afraid that the other will dissolve.

"I will think of you and love you forever," you say.

You feel yourself getting dizzy again.

Momo sobs quietly, her nails dig into your body.

"It's okay," you say, even though you're still crying, but you try to calm her down.

"It's okay," you repeat.

It all feels so light as your eyes close.

You can't feel any arms on your body.

Momo no longer feels the body she was hugging.

Your eyes open rapidly and you look around.

Chaeyoung stands up from her chair and looks at you.

You look at her and wipe a tear away from your cheek.

"You made it," she says.

You nod.

"The potion worked..." she says and picks up something to write down, probably something about this experiment.

You get up slowly and walk to the front door,

"Before you go," Chaeyoung says -

"The idea for the multiverse, and for this potion,

actually came from Momo"

You look at her and smile,

You close the door behind you and leave her house.

In this Universe, you live without Momo, and you're starting to accept it.

Because deep in your heart, you know that she is always with you.

So when you hold out your hand while walking home,

you know that she is holding it.

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