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bacchira · 2 years

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Pretty Boy

minors and ageless blogs please dni

pairing: Miyuki Kazuya x Reader

summary: Miyuki Kazuya does not need sex, thank you very much. he can handle himself if the need arises, and honestly he's way more focussed on baseball. But somehow you manage to get him into bed and turns out; Miyuki is a whiny lil' bitch in bed.

word count: 2,5k

tags/cw: AFAB reader. slightly soft dom reader. vaginal penetration. unprotected sex. Praise kink. Slight corruption kink. idk. probably a lot of other things idk.

a/n: i started watching DNA a little while ago, and straight away i just knew i loved Miyuki. and i do. so he deserved a fic and um.. someone wrote a post saying something about Miyuki being a bottom because he's "literally a catcher", and i felt that. So this is what my brain did idk. big thanks to @tenkoushimura for beta reading it. ily! <3 ALSO PSA: use protection!!!!!!!!

Who would have thought Miyuki Kazuya to be a whiny mess in bed, really? Miyuki may be both cocky and confident, but he is also completely and utterly inexperienced. He himself wasn’t one to seek out partners. Never really felt the need. He played baseball and loved it. He was good at it. So, what more could he really want or need? Nothing really if you asked him. Honestly if he needed relief, he could take care of himself. He knew what he liked, and it wouldn’t take much time away from his training. So why would he feel the need to look for more? And truth be told, it wasn’t like girls or guys flocked around him for a chance to date him. Even with his undeniable skills at baseball and good looks, his raw personality kept many a suitor away through the years. But not you. You knew what he was about, but for some obscure reason, you didn’t shy away. Oh no.

It took you quite some convincing to even get him alone. He wasn’t looking for anything and he definitely didn’t have time for any nonsense, thank you very much. But you did manage to do just that in due time. To convince him. And once you did, it wasn’t actually that hard to get him where you wanted him. Which was underneath you.

“Shit,” his breath shuddered as you had his cock in a firm hold, condom rolled all the way down and rubbing the tip through your folds while persistently holding his gaze. Miyuki’s hands were fisted hard in the sheets of the bed under him, and even with the wall supporting his back, he’s desperate for anything to hold on to. To ground him. You bite down on your lower lip when you finally line up the tip of his cock with your entrance, letting yourself drop just slightly. Miyuki grabbed hold of your hips in a bruising hold when the tip of his cock pushed inside, eyes screwing shut behind his glasses.

“Hey,” you said, voice only betraying your own pleasure in the slightest. Miyuki being Miyuki, he probably would have noticed if it hadn’t been for the way you engulfed him so tightly. Snug and warm. “Pretty boy. Look at me.” Miyuki’s cock twitched at your words. And his hips bucked involuntarily. With labored breathing he opened his eyes once more to try and focus his gaze on you.

“Don’t— Don’t do that,” he panted.

“Oh?” You let yourself sink down further, enjoying the way his cock forced you open. “You like it when I call you that, Pretty Boy?” You really couldn’t help the cocky grin that formed on your lips. Miyuki was quite the sight, flushed, eyes shining, and teeth harshly gritted together. You couldn’t help but place a hand on his cheek, almost huffing a laugh as he leaned into your touch, jaw going slack.

Soon enough, you’d settled all the way down in his lap, cock sheathed deep inside your walls. You didn’t offer him much time to steel himself for what was to come before you rubbed your thumb over his bottom lip and rolled your hips against his. Miyuki’s hands twitched on your hips and a moan escaped his lips. His cheeks flushed even harder, seemingly embarrassed by the sound that had just left him, but to you— it only made you want to make him even more red. So, while you worked your hips against him, you found yourself propping your thumb into his mouth, forcing it further up. Pressing down in his tongue, Miyuki had no means to stop the sounds rising in his throat from tumbling out around your digit.

“You’re such a good boy. Do you like this?” you cooed and ground against him harder. A particularly high-pitched moan clearly told you that he did, but you needed him to acknowledge it. “Come on, don’t be shy. Do you like it?” And that was your good boy. Miyuki nodded with shiny eyes, a bit of drool slipping down his chin. This really was a sight for sore eyes.

It didn’t take you long to set up a pace that had Miyuki panting out the prettiest sound in time with your movements and had his muscles tensing up. No doubt he was at your mercy as you worked his cock until his eyes rolled back. Pulling your finger from his mouth, you leaned down and licked his lower lip, before capturing it between your teeth and pulling slightly. The moan he gave, had you picking up just that little bit of extra speed. Miyuki tilted his head in an attempt at catching your lips, but you couldn’t help but tease him by pulling back.

Sending him a confident grin, you took his hands in yours. Feeling him tremble slightly, you guided his hands, as his fingers ghosted over your skin, from your thighs and under your skirt. Sliding around your hips and settling on the mounds of your ass. Letting go of his hands, you own fingers quickly found their way to the front of Miyuki’s shirt, sliding up against his abs.

“Come on,” you told him as he looked at you with big eyes. “Have a feel.” With your own fingers against his, you help him support you as you shift gears and bounce in his lap.

“F—Fuck,” Miyuki ground out as his face scrunched up, teeth clenched, and one eye completely shut.

“Hm?” You kept your pace high as you guided one of his hands around to your front instead. Placing his hand against your abdomen and pressing his thumb to your clit had you shuddering and clenching around his cock. His hips bucked against you, meeting your thrusts. You moan and taking your pace up just another notch.

“S—slow down.” You almost laughed at the way he was clearly holding back, and for a second you considered whether you should push him over the edge already or play with him a bit longer. After a second or two you decided on the latter, slowing down until you were rolling your hips in slow circles against him.

“Does it feel good?” you asked him.

“Yes—”

“Do you want me to make you feel even better?” You felt Miyuki twitching inside of you and even before he nodded, you knew what it meant. He’d been so close, and if you wanted to play for longer, which you did, you’d have to shift gears. “How about I let you go raw instead?” Another, stronger, twitch inside of you replied as his fingers dug into your skin.

“I—” Miyuki gulped; eyes bewildered as he studied you with only half a mind to consider the risks. He could just pull out, right? Right. He knew that much. If he hadn’t been buried inside of you, he probably would have turned the offer down, but here he was. Right now, he wanted nothing more, so instead of objecting, he closed his mouth and nodded in agreement. You couldn’t help but smile. He was so cute.

“First, let’s get these off of you,” you told him, and carefully lifted his glasses off his face, setting them on the bedside table. “And this one follows.” Your hands returned to the hem of his shirt. He wasn’t late to push off the wall and helping get rid of his shirt, discarding it on the floor.

Miyuki reached for your shirt but hesitated, looking up at you. With a harder roll of your hips against his, you nodded in agreement and soon your shirt was discarded on the floor with his own. For a moment, as he was faced with your chest, he just stared. He’d never been one to stare, but you looked so good, and he had to bite his lip to refrain from just diving face-first into your chest. But instead, you picked that very moment to get off of his lap, his cock slapping against his lower abdomen accompanied by a soft whine from Miyuki himself.

“Second, we’re going to need this one off too,” you told him teasingly, but before you could reach out to help, Miyuki was discarding of the rubber as well. As he did so, you laid back on the bed and rested on your elbows, eyeing him up in challenge. Bending one knee and spreading that leg out to the side, you sent him a little smirk. “Show me what you’ve got, Pretty Boy.”

Miyuki wasted no time before he shoved off the wall and all but crawled over you. The hunger and excitement in his eyes had you chuckle softly as you beckoned him closer with a finger. His cheeks were red, his lips swollen and glistened in the dim light of the room. When he was in reach, you snatched his chin and brought his face to yours.

“You’re adorable, do you know that?” you whispered, and the red of his cheek deepened so fast and so intensely that you almost laughed again. Instead, you tilted your head up and caught his lips. Your legs wrapped around his waist, heels digging onto the flesh of Miyuki’s ass, pulling him closer.

Feeling the mattress shift, you opened your eyes just slightly, watching as Miyuki reached down between your bodies. For a moment you let him try an align himself at your entrance, but with his eyes closed and lips locked with yours, that proved to be a difficult task. Miyuki’s eyes sprung open when your hand wrapped around his at the base of his cock. You broke the kiss and moved your head to the side of his, lips just shy of his ear.

“Let me help you,” you breathed against his ear. Steady and keeping his gaze locked with yours, you guide his hand until you feel the tip of his cock pressing against your entrance. You felt him already slipping inside from just a gentle buck of your hips. “Good boy,” you praise as Miyuki slips in further. Slick and his own precum made for a smooth entrance and soon enough, he made it all the way inside. Your hands settled on each side of his face, and you felt the catcher shudder when he’d bottomed out inside.

“Shit—” Supporting himself with both hands, one on each side of your face, Miyuki’s face scrunched up in your hands. “I need—I’m gonna—Fuck.”

“Not yet,” you told him and let your hands travel down the sides of his neck. “Need you to be a good boy, okay?” Even as he nods, you give him a moment to collect himself. You may enjoy teasing him, but not if it meant your shared fun would end right then and there. So, you lifted your head and placed your lips against his, letting your nails scrape lightly over his hard torso. His lips moved against yours and you almost yelped in surprise when Miyuki angled his head and deepened the kiss. He was learning, and you couldn’t help but smirk into the kiss as you clenched down around him, and he moaned into the kiss.

When Miyuki’s body loosened up from the tension that’d held him locked in place, you ground your hips against his. Digging your heels into his skin, you sparked him into motion. With a hard exhale, Miyuki tryingly pulled back out. His breathing shuddered against your lips as he pushed back in. You lifted your hips to meet his thrust, and when he repeated the movement, so did you, slowly working together. By chance, Miyuki shifted and hit something deep inside of you that had you throwing your head back, breaking the kiss. Your moan had Miyuki’s cock twitching inside of you.

As if spurred on by the sound he’d ripped from your throat, Miyuki picked up his pace, a bit of his usual confidence showing its face. Miyuki may not have much experience, if any when it came to sex, but he did know how to read people. So, when you’d let a moan slip, he clearly knew he’d done something right. He’d hit something, and he couldn’t wait to hit it again.

Miyuki’s head dropped to your shoulder as he increased his pace and relentlessly fucked into you. His moans mingling with yours in a sweet symphony, accompanied by the wet squelching between your bodies. Seeking leverage, your hands settled on his shoulders and fingers dug into his skin as his thrusts met with your own.

Instinct took over and Miyuki’s thrusts turned frantic, and you knew where it was leading. But you also didn’t find it in you to deny him once more. Probably mostly, because what he did with those hips of his, felt good. And you just couldn’t bear to stop him, for either of your sakes. Instead, you wound your legs a little tighter around his middle and pulled him closer, drawing a deep groan from him. His lips found your neck, teeth scraping against your skin, right above your beating pulse. Your walls tightened around him drawing him in further.

“I can’t—”

“I know,” you moaned, cutting him off before he could finish speaking. One of your hands snaked down between you, reaching for your clit, and rubbing circles around your nub.

“I need—” Miyuki tried pulling back, but you only tightened your hold on him further. Clamping down and pushing him closer with your legs around his body.

“Do it,” you urged into his ear and dug your fingers harder into his skin.

“What’re—Please—” His hips ground against you, as your legs held him firmly against you until you could no longer fit your hand in between you two, not letting him pull back. Rolling his hips in small circles against you, his moans turned high-pitched. Whiny. “Let—Let me out, I’m gonna—”

“Come on, cum for me, Pretty Boy.” Miyuki’s teeth sunk into your shoulder and his eyes screwed shut, drilling into you hard. You clenched around him once more, and he let you go with a loud moan. One hand slid into his hair and pulled his lips to yours in a wet clash. Then you pulled back. “Cum for me.”

“Shit—you f—Okay, fine!” Miyuki ground his hips against you harder, and the blissed grin on your face told him, that this was exactly what you’d wanted all along. “Take all—all of it—” With stuttering hips and his vision blurring. White. He clenched his teeth, as he released inside of you, painting your insides, and fucking his cum into you deeper. Your own head thrown back as his thrusts start to slow.

Coming down from his high, he seemed to realize you hadn’t reached your edge, and from the sheepish look on his face, you knew his felt bad. You couldn’t help but chuckle a little. Yes, he’d come fast and the both of you knew, but you also both knew that he was very new to this, so a little bit of encouragement seemed fitting. So, you sent him a smirk and clenched down on his softening cock, before he had the chance to pull out.

“Don’t worry,” you told him, rocking your hips against him, and feeling his cock twitching inside. “There’s always round two, Pretty Boy.”

#Miyuki Kazuya #Miyuki Kazuya x reader #Miyuki Kazuya smut #daiya no ace smut #daiya no ace #miyuki smut #fanfic #miyuki x reader smut #miyuki x reader #miyuki kazuya x reader smut #diamond no ace #diamond no ace smut #mica writes

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aewinning · 10 months

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Fontaine/4.x+ Predictions

I'm throwing some big bold Fontaine/4.x predictions out so I can reference this in a year and find out just how right or wrong I was. Under a cut because it's a wall of text and b/c it involves obscure lore not everybody's read.

(No leaks involved. If you've seen leaks that confirm or contradict any of this, please don't send them to me or discuss them in replies. As you can see, the lore theorycrafting is half of the fun for me!)

Yes, this is the tip of the iceberg on my lore theories. No, this is not a comprehensive prediction of the entire Fontaine plot, just bits of it I feel are foreshadowed. Yes, I'm citing a lot of shit so that when I go back through this a year from now I can see why I thought what I thought.

I think about Genshin lore too much, this truly is live footage of me every time a single new crumb of information is divulged.

Massive wall of text incoming b/c I can't stop rambling once you start me up on Genshin lore.

The theories:

Fontaine fucks up and Celestia gets involved

My big pet theory that I've been nursing for over a year now, ever since we started hearing from bit NPCs in minor events about Fontaine's energy problems, is that I think Celestia is either going to drop a nail on Fontaine or at the very least finally become relevant to the main plot in a big way by sending someone to intervene with Fontaine's technology and the mockery Focalors is making of the judicial process. (They might not care enough to intervene in the average judicial process, but she's literally the capital-letters God of Justice, and it's supposed to be her ideal. If she's abandoned it, they might not be happy.) They're also hovering over what we can assume to be the location of Fontaine, which is not a good sign.

This theory was strengthened when reading Rene's Investigation Notes in the Khvarena of Good and Evil questline, which indicate that Fontaine has done research on Khaenri'ah's use of abyssal power as an energy source, which was warned against by some of Khaenri'ah's own people but ignored (to disastrous outcome). There are a lot of parallels being set up between Khaenri'ah and Fontaine in those notes and with all the mention of sinners in the Final Feast trailer narration, and I'm not sure they bode well for Fontaine.

It's possible that the energy generator machine that Persikov and the other Fatui were working on as far back as 2.8's Golden Apple Archipelago were meant to help them gain a foothold in Fontaine; after all, solve the desperate nation's energy problems, and you suddenly hold a lot of power in the nation and can even hold their energy source ransom until your demands are met. I wouldn't be surprised if "the Fatui control Fontaine's energy future and use it as leverage" is a plot point.

(Although back in the day I thought it would be Pantalone behind that plot, not Arlecchino, because economic and political manipulation seemed his style and we hadn't heard anything much about Arlecchino yet. Hell, Arlecchino had been mentioned like once in-game then, in Inazuma's "The Very Special Fortune Slip" hidden questline, and was still referred to as male at that point.)

2. Neuvillette is unjustly imprisoned by Furina; Charlotte figures it out

I think Neuvillette is going to be imprisoned by Furina (who's pretty obviously the hydro archon Focalors), foreshadowed by the bars going over his face but not Clorinde's when they're walking in the sewers in the trailer. This will likely be either Furina framing him for something (foreshadowed by her burning what seems to be evidence while complaining about the lack of plot twists and entertainment, while he's literally 'framed' by the burning photo) OR a political imprisonment because they have an ideological clash.

Neuvillette seems to actually want justice, Furina seems to want a show. She seems very pouty and childish; if he tries to discipline her or remind her of the true meaning of justice, she could very well order him arrested and turn it into a grand trial to feed her lust for entertainment. And it could certainly be a combination framing/political imprisonment as well. Very French Reign of Terror style.

Charlotte may figure this whole situation out; in the trailer she's investigating photos with a puzzled look on her face as if she sees something wrong with them, and in the TCG event she offered to let us take out an ad in the paper if we ever needed it, in exchange for our assistance during the event. Now, the pictures were of Navia, not Neuvillette, so this may be an unrelated plot, but surely she's going to help us sleuth up the truth of something with foreshadowing like that.

Neuvillette is also...something. His eyes resemble Khaenri'ahn eyes, he's got the Kleelike pointy ears, and his cool blue hair streaks are certainly interesting. Oceanids can mimic other creatures so he could be an Oceanid (and given that they were spies of the previous archon that would set him up nicely for opposition to Furina). He could be Klee's species. He could be a Khaenri'ahn.

Whatever he is, he's NOT standard modern Teyvat human, and he's NOT the previous hydro archon despite the hair streaks because we know from the Khvarena of Good and Evil questline and Vourukasha's Glow artifact set that the previous archon died and was anchored beneath the Harvisptokm in the form of the giant Gaokerena lotus to purify abyssal influence in the region.

Neuvillette, I've got my eye on you. (Both eyes. While twirling my hair and kicking my feet.)

1b+2b. Neuvillette replaces Furina as hydro archon

I fully understand this is an unlikely scenario so it's not as firmly a prediction as much as a "this would be interesting," but if Celestia brings judgment on Fontaine it is possible that the hydro archon slot opens up, either because they repossess Furina's gnosis and find a new archon, or because they straight-up kill her (can you fucking imagine the shock from the community if they kill an archon off? but they'd still get to sell two separate units as archons, it'd be a win/win for them).

If this happens the logical choice for a replacement would be Chief Justice Neuvillette, especially if he was in opposition to the behavior that put her on Celestia's shitlist. I can see it now: Celestia repossesses the gnosis, gives it to him, he says thank you, the Celestians fuck off to be mysterious again, and he turns right around and hands it to the Fatui in exchange for getting the hell out of Fontaine. (Or for some other reason.)

I highly doubt they'll go this route, but I would love to see it. Not only would it even out the archon gender ratio a bit, but it would answer the question of how a change of archonhood takes place, which we still haven't seen since Morax hasn't been replaced as geo archon yet. And I think it's a question we deserve to have answered before the end of the game. If not here, then perhaps in Natlan (see point 7 below).

3. Lyney, Lynette, Freminet, and Arlecchino

This is a pretty common/obvious theory but I agree that the siblings are all likely working for Arlecchino, likely unwillingly. She runs the House of the Hearth which takes in (and sometimes causes) orphans and trains them for the Fatui; we've seen several NPCs that came from them before and many of them consider each other brothers and sisters.

I don't think Lyney and Lynette are related to Freminet by blood; I think they consider him a sibling due to being raised together. The resemblance between Lyney and Lynette is clearer, especially with the twin names, but names can be changed, so I don't even treat it as confirmed that those two are blood related until proven otherwise, especially since Lynette has cat features and Lyney doesn't.

Both Lynette and Freminet seem to have robotic features, and we know that Fontaine has robots and Snezhnaya has the technology for segments, plus we've seen Albedo as a homunculus and Scara as a puppet, so artificial humans are very much within the realm of possibility for Teyvat. Lynette is said to have rather mechanical behavior, and Freminet's constellation is literally 'Automaton.' So I think it's likely enough that one or both of them aren't flesh and blood humans.

To take that a step further, I think it's possible that Lynette died at some point, and the current Lynette is a mechanical replacement OR a robotic body being inhabited by her soul (Alphonse from Full Metal Alchemist style). Lyney may have had to pledge loyalty to Arlecchino and the Fatui in order to rescue or recreate his sister through these means, OR it's possible they were already in the House of the Hearth and Dottore or somebody else damaged the original Lynette while experimenting with her.

Dark. And quite the fun twist if it's true, tbh.

4. Navia and Clorinde

Navia gives off a 'gentleman thief' vibe to me but lady version, and Clorinde shoots directly at her in the trailer, indicating she's playing the role of the detective or law enforcement officer tracking her down. I don't have coherent thoughts here on a lore front really, I'm just really excited for the possibility of gentlewoman thief rivals to lovers/enemies with benefits lesbians.

Clorinde's outfit looks a bit historical Navy inspired to me, so maybe she's a member of the Navy, but I'm not really sure why she'd be chasing criminals if that's the case.

5. Wriothesley, Sigewinne, and the Tower of London

I don't have a solid opinion on whether Wriothesley is blind or not as possibly hinted at by his fumbling for the cup, but I think it'd be cool if he was! People point to him looking at papers or at Sigewinne as evidence that he's not, but 'blind' as a term does not always mean complete lack of sight, for one, and if we assume he's a vision user as a seemingly playable character then there could be alternative methods he reads things with, such as using elemental sight to read ink with crushed-up elemental rocks in it or something.

He seems rather military, and Fontaine seems to have a strong military presence in general with some of the Melusine giving off a British bobby (police) vibe visually. I wouldn't be surprised if we get a structure reminiscent of the Tower of London, potentially where Wriothesley works and Neuvillette gets held when imprisoned.

No solid thoughts about Sigewinne yet other than I'm guessing she's going to be a healer or support, since she's little and cute and taking care of someone in the trailer. I assume she's a Melusine.

6. Chenyu Vale and Qiaoying Village (and Yilong Port?)

They're coming. I can feel it in my bones that at last we will go to the long-awaited Baizhu homeland. Why? There have been multiple sources indicating that they're placed between Liyue and Fontaine, likely between Fontaine and Qingce Village. I think 4.4 should be Lantern Rite judging from the usual calendar, and that would be a prime time for it to pop up - the main Fontaine story should be over at that point, and we'll be back in Liyue anyways. It will also be the Year of the Dragon, which might mean time for some juicy Zhongli or Liyue lore. Though they might move Chenyu Vale elsewhere in the 4.x schedule if needed.

This region will likely utilize Fontaine's diving mechanics. Legends about the region in weapon and artifact lore discuss powerful sunken jade artifacts in the rivers and lakes of the region, which would make a storyline revolving around finding them the perfect excuse to introduce the diving mechanics to a non-Fontaine region. Given the name and the lore, it's very possible that Baizhu's signature weapon Jadefall's Splendor is one of those pieces of jade, reclaimed.

For that and multiple other reasons, I believe Baizhu will be relevant to the main storyline here. Not only does he have a personal vested interest in finding interesting and powerful old artifacts or knowledge that might aid in his search for immortality, but Changsheng is intimately connected to the region lorewise. The Echoes of an Offering artifact set doesn't mention Changsheng by name, but it does discuss an adeptus named "Herblord" in Chenyu Vale and tell her story, and Changsheng is referred to as an "Herblord" in Baizhu's story cutscene. There's no reason to refer to them both with such a specific unusual term unless they're one and the same.

(I also have a theory that the other woman in the artifact lore is Madame Ping. The other woman is referred to as a fish adeptus, and Madame Ping's younger self in cutscenes has fish motifs and a fishtail silhouette, so I believe she's likely a koi as her adeptus form. I am highly tempted to write a Changsheng/Madame Ping fic because y'all there is something incredibly wlw happening in that artifact lore. I am also not going to be surprised if Madame Ping's younger form becomes playable in conjunction with Chenyu Vale story.)

7. Natlan

As a final far future prediction: In Natlan, Capitano will likely challenge the pyro archon for her gnosis and possibly even replace her. We know he's headed to Natlan and also "has the courage to challenge gods as an ordinary mortal" from Varka's Weinlesefest letter, and if Pierro is simply the "Director" of the Fatui as labeled in the Winter Night's Lazzo description and not a numbered harbinger, Capitano may occupy slot #1, which would be in line with his name as the Captain. We've been told by Nahida that the top three harbingers rival gods in terms of power, and I feel like if any god would answer a martial challenge with their gnosis on the line it would be the God of War, especially if the challenger was backed by another archon. I TRULY hope we see a fight between them.

(I also wanna see someone guillotined in Fontaine to fit the vibe but I highly doubt that will happen in Genshin. I think Signora was the most violent death we'll get onscreen.)

Anyways I hope someone found this titillating or educational and we can all look back at this and laugh at how wrong I was a year from now, but occasionally my farfetched theories do work out, such as when I looked a the Echoes of an Offering set lore on its release a full YEAR before Baizhu's release and excitedly vibrated to a friend about how it HAD to be related to him or Changsheng.

(I have theories past this point in the game too but they mostly rely on esoteric Gnostic text parallels more than in-game foreshadowing/content so I'm less confident in them.)

#aewinblabs #genshin impact #fontaine #theories #fontaine predictions #predictions #spoilers #genshin spoilers #maybe #if you're not up to date on quests and obscure lore at least #but everything mentioned here has been out for at least a patch now #except for the fontaine trailer

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contemporarybardess · 5 months

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Help Wanted || Elora & Alistair

Location: The Sugar Pot

Timing: Current-ish

Parties: @deathsplaything & @contemporarybardess

Triggers: Parental death (mentioned), Partner death (mentioned)

Summary: Elora goes into The Sugar Pot wanting some tea after a rough day, leaves with far much more.

Well this was just fucking peachy. Elora had gotten a tip on a revolutionary treatment for her hand that might be able to restore function to it, and she gets fucking rejected. Something about candidates with a longer duration of disability being favored first. It wasn’t her fault she wasn’t born disabled, but a recent injury should have just as much weight as those who have been managing the burden their entire lives.

She was upset, and she always began shaking when she was upset. She needed something to calm her nerves. While she loved a good cup of coffee, it would do nothing to relax her in this moment. As she walked down the street, she saw a sign for a new shop she hadn’t seen before.

“The Sugar Pot”, she muttered under her breath. She could use a nice cup of hot tea to steady her nerves.

As she entered the store, she was greeted by a man behind the counter wearing dark glasses that completely obscured his eyes. She appreciated the apothecary theme, and figured if the tea was good this might already be a new favorite spot of hers. She approached the counter, hoping to see some sort of menu that she could order off of.

As the door opened to the shop, the bell attached to the door jingled, alerting Alastair that there was a customer. “Welcome in!” He greeted her with a customer-service-grade smile. “If yer new, the shop is set up for you to pick out some flavors, and then we mix and pack it for you. The menu is below me if you’re looking for a certain brew.” He patted the counter he stood behind. The menu was on the wall of the counter.

The menu consisted of herbal blends sorted by white teas, green teas, black teas, oolong teas, and fruit tisanes. “We’ve got floral, citrus, fruity, sweet, and umami teas.” He explained as a woman stepped out of the curtained back door. She closed the back door rather loudly as to alert Alastair to her presence. “In front of you.” She spoke to him, which caused his attention to shift from the sound of the bell ringing on the door to directly in front of him. He didn’t quite look directly at Elora, nor did he turn his head to look at the woman who had stepped behind the counter. He looked in their general direction without looking directly at them.

“Thank you, looks like a big selection” she said to the man behind the counter. She could tell from the dark glasses and the way he wasn’t quite looking at her to speak that he must be blind or have some sort of serious vision impairment. She saw his assistant emerge to redirect his focus so that he had a better idea of where she was.

“I think I’ll have the ‘Pear With Me’ please!” she went to point at the sign, a strange thing to do when speaking to a blind man but it was habit for her. She forgot, as always, that pointing with her left hand was an impossibility, and she was left with more of a three fingered gesture towards the area of the sign that displayed her drink. She quickly pulled her hand back, being glad the man couldn’t see her mistake. While there was certainly no shame to an injury, she didn’t want any form of weakness to be perceived by people in this town.

“I don’t think I’ve seen this place before. Don’t usually come to this side of town, I was just out here running errands. Do you get a lot of people over here?”

She wasn’t familiar with Old Town yet, she didn’t have much reason to stop by until today.

Alastair smiled, nodding his head. “I like to give my customers a lot tae choose from. If you have too little, then what fun is that?” His tone was jovial but almost as if it was practiced to be that way. As Elora gestured to the sign, Melody, the assistant shopkeeper, frowned. She leaned over to Alastair and whispered into his ear. “Left hand, potential medial nerve injury.” She pulled away from the man, who had already turned around to find the correct blend, slipping his fingers along the glass jars that held the herb mixtures until he came across the one that said “Pear With Me” in bold letters. He plucked the jar off the shelf, and Melody grabbed a cup and tea bag, scoping the mixture into the bag.

As Melody set to preparing her drink, Alastair turned around with an almost ghoulish smile that quickly drifted back to a practiced politeness. “Oh, we’ve been here for about three years now.” He spoke with a nod, his hand drifting over the old-style register and feeling the buttons before pressing down on the correct ones to ring up her total. “Busier during the mornings and weekends, get some wanderers from time to time throughout the day, though. We have enough regulars to keep the business afloat.” After he finished speaking, Melody turned around to hand the cup of hot tea over to Elora with a friendly smile. “Alastair and I opened up the shop together.” She further explained, taking over the register with ease. “Your total is 5.48.” She added.

Alastair tapped a finger on the counter. “Tell your friends about us! Oh, and we’re hirin’ if you know someone looking for a job. We hire all kinds here!” He grinned wickedly, as if trying to let her in on something without saying it aloud.

There was a certain charm to the man’s Scottish accent. Elora had noticed the pair whispering, but couldn’t quite make out what was being said. Didn’t they know whispering was rude. Especially in front of a paying customer!

“Well it’s good you have a steady stream of business. Nowadays it’s hard to keep a good business going. Guess I’d be considered a ‘wanderer’, eh?” she said teasingly. “Well I’m glad to hear you’ve been here for a while, means what you sell isn’t shit. So how long have you two been together” she asked, careful to gesture with her right hand as she moved it between the two of them.

“As a matter of fact, I’ve been in the market for a good job. If you take ‘all types’, maybe I could put in an application?”

Alastair’s smile turned from friendly to genuine as Elon’s called herself a wanderer. “An’ there’s nothin’ wrong with that either. Best people I know are wanderers themselves” he gave a nod. When asked how long they’d been together, his smiley turned to a disgusted look. “Oh, I’m far too gay tae be with ‘er.” He spoke in a conspiratorial whisper towards Elora. That earned an eye roll from Melody, who knelt beneath the counter.

“Oh ye are, are ya?” Alastair remarked, tilting his head to the side with a grin. Melody popped back up, sliding the application towards Elora with a smile. “Melody here helped me out when I lost my sight.” He explained. “Been business partners since I moved here three years ago. Anything other than that is strictly platonic. Like I said, definitely too gay for that.” He chuckled softly, shaking his head. “New to the area, then?” He asked, curious to learn more about the prospective hire.

Since her colony’s fall, Elora had never been anything other than a wanderer. Just another soul passing through; here today and gone tomorrow. Hearing there was nothing wrong with that was certainly reassuring.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to assume,” she uttered, feeling herself starting to blush. She very often made assumptions about other people, and sometimes those assumptions lead to embarrassment.

“I came here a couple months ago. I’ve uh…been off to a bit of a rough start. That goo outbreak certainly didn’t help things. Not a lot of places that are busy when half the town is completely unnavigable. But yes, I could really use some extra income. Well, any income, really.”

She felt the inevitable follow up question of where she was before coming next, so she decided to pre-empt the man. She could tell by his manner of speech he was probably from somewhere in Scotland.

“Grew up in South Carolina, very remote small town.” If you could even call it a town. “Decided I should try branching out a little bit. So I moved out and decided I’d try my luck up here.” She decided to leave out the tragic backstory. Not exactly appropriate for a first encounter, especially with a potential employer.

Melody rolled her eyes and whacked Alastair in the arm. “Don’t mind him, he’s ridiculous.” She spoke as she took payment from Elora, charged the card, and handed it back to her. This earned a wide grin from the man in response, who seemed quite proud of himself. As Elora said she had a rough start to moving to Wicked’s Rest, Melody frowned, then spoke up. “Well, we are in a position where we need someone, so maybe Alastair here can talk to you about the position while I tidy up in the back.” She suggested, nudging the man so that it was less of a suggestion and more of a demand.

As the blonde passed the curtain and into the back room, the flash of something small toddled across the room as the door shut behind her. “She likes you,” Alastair told Elora with a knowing smile. “If you are rather interested, the position is for a barista. Our recent employees left because they wanted to focus on school, and we allow them to have summer jobs and over their breaks. We’re looking for someone who would be willing to work full-time. A thud came from the back, drawing Alastair’s attention toward the noise, but then he let his head drift back to the direction he last heard Elora.

“The goo has most definitely made things harder for people to navigate to our shop, but I think that makes it the perfect opportunity to train someone who may not have prior experience.” He smiled, trying to let her know as slyly as possible that he would be interested in her working for him. “Though I do feel bad for the victims of the goo, I try to see things in a positive light when I can.” He then added, deciding it was not the best look to say he liked the goo. He didn’t. He’d been sleeping there at the tea shop because of the goo.

After all of her applications and interviews, it couldn’t be this easy, could it? Had she finally found stable and long term employment? Well, as stable as you can get in this town. The pair seemed kind enough, and she was certainly never one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“Really? It’d be great to work here, especially full time. I do have some barista experience too! Another small mom and pop shop back near where I grew up.” One that didn’t look too closely into validating I-9 documents like a bigger coffee chain might have done.

“I understand what you mean” Elora said, nodding even though it served no purpose. “Gotta find the silver linings wherever you can see them”. She immediately bit her tongue in frustration at her words. Definitely not off to the best of starts, but he didn’t seem like the type to be easily offended. “So to speak, of course” she added on, hastily.

“The goo’s been an absolute pain for me too. Most of the streets are completely unnavigable and my side of town is far away from pretty much everything. If it weren’t for my gymnastics training I wouldn’t even be able to get groceries.”

Gymnastics training, supernatural agility, po-tay-toe po-tah-toe.

“Anyway, I’d be ready to start whenever if you’re serious about hiring me!”

Alistair stood there for a long, quiet moment as he debated whether or not to crack a joke at his own expense. “Where ye can see ‘em, nice.” He muttered with a crooked grin on his face. “Gymnastic trainin’? Bet that’s absolutely come in handy with all of it. Poor Brutus was leading me in weird patterns an’ I had no idea about the goo at first until someone kindly pointed it out to me. I thought my dog had gone rogue.” He shook his head, snapping his finger down at his hip, which caused Brutus to sit up in his bed and lazily walk over to Alistair’s side. “Y’ have a problem working with dogs?”

It wasn’t that Alastair had a bleeding heart. He didn’t. With what he did for a living, he couldn’t afford to. But when someone obviously struggling to get by in town just waltzed into his shop, he couldn’t just turn them away, now could he? So that’s how he ended up feeling bad for the woman before him. And if she said she had experience, then… well, that was just a helpful addition now, wasn’t it?

Alastair couldn’t help but smile in amusement as she talked about seeing something. He didn’t say anything, but he was already coming up with a multitude of different responses in his head. He drummed his fingers against the counter, knowing Melody had already given him the go-ahead, meaning it was entirely up to him. He hated being the one to make decisions regarding hiring and firing. He tilted his head to the side, deep in thought. She was friendly, she was available to work full-time, and he could use a day off every once and a while. “Yeah, alright.” He finally said, letting his head turn back. “I do have a weird question, though.” He spoke, tapping his finger against the counter again, this time more in nervousness. “I need t’know what you know about the supernatural.” He spoke, gripping Brutus’s harness. “See, I heal people.” He further explained. “The methods I use are…” he trailed off, trying to find the words to use. “Different than what you’d find in a hospital.”

While Elora was a bit mortified at misspeaking, at least the man seemed to take her slip up in stride. It probably wasn’t the first inappropriate comment he had heard regarding his blindness.

“Right, my gymnastics training. Comes in handy when you’re moving around rooftops across town. You’d be surprised how bad the goo situation is in Worm’s Row.”

She looked over at the dog, who looked like such a good boy. But she knew better than to try and pet him, working dog and all that.

“He seems like a very good boy doing great work. You both could’ve been swallowed up if he wasn’t on his guard!”

She was momentarily overjoyed when she heard his very casual acceptance to allow her to work there. This quickly went away as he asked her about what she knew of the supernatural. She was a bit hesitant since they were in a public space, she never knew who could be listening in. Eventually, however, she decided to answer the man’s question. She was all too curious about his “unconventional methods”.

“Well, I know that there are creatures that exist who aren’t exactly what they seem to be. Some friendly, others very much not. I also know that magic does exist, and can also be used to help or harm someone at the user’s discretion. Also nasty goo that turns people into statues, can’t forget about that.”

She withheld that she was supernatural of course. Some old school apothecaries and other potion brewers still harvested siren organs for certain concoctions. She didn’t want to end up on the man’s grocery list, blind people were still dangerous after all.

“Please, do tell about these methods of yours.”

Alistair sighed, knowing he’d have to explain it sooner rather than later. He’d much prefer if he could control the narrative before Elora found out for herself. As Melody came out of the back room, the spellcaster tugged on the harness, speaking “doras cùil,” which caused Brutus to walk toward the back door that Melody had exited. “Mind the store,” he spoke to the blond as he passed her, pulling the door open again and holding it out for Elora.

As they entered the back room, the first thing that could be noticed (by those with sight) was the circular, emerald rug on the floor with sage green sitting cushions around in a circle. “The Law of Equivalent Exchange,” Alistair spoke after the door had closed, “means that I cannot heal without doing harm to another.” Brutus guided Alistair to the middle of the rug, then sat obediently at his side. “My family comes from a line of necromancers. Instead of raising the dead, I use it to heal people.” Brutus stood from his owner’s side and walked to the door on the far side of the room, then sat in front of it. “Beyond that door is what I use to heal those who need it or even deserve it.”

He paused for a moment, waiting to see if she had any questions. When Elora said nothing, he continued. “The bigger the injury, the better the sacrifice must be. I can’t just use a lab rat for a sacrifice when the person has been stabbed through the chest. It has to be an exact exchange. While I, luckily, don’t deal with larger scale injuries, sometimes the sacrifice needs to be greater. People who have done harm, people that deserve punishment.” He pointed to the door again. “That’s who I keep beyond there.”

Brutus watched Elora with a curious gaze, as if he knew more than a normal dog should. Alistair stood still, waiting for the woman to speak or run. If she ran, well, that’s what Melody in the front of the shop was for. If she didn’t, then maybe she’d stand a chance after all. “You wouldn’t deal with this,” he added on. “But you would have to deal with them coming into the store asking for me. If you decide to work here, know that when I’m not working, I live above the shop, so I’m only a phone call away to get here as soon as possible.” He tilted his head to the side and raised a brow. “So. Thoughts?”

Elora, quite frankly, didn’t know what to think. On the one hand, this man was a healer, and could do beautiful work for those who deserve it. On the other hand, someone else would need to be hurt. Elora, unlike those she grew up with, had a very firm “do no harm” stance. Still… harming those who were bad to benefit those who were good would end up as a net positive, right? She glanced down at her left hand, wondering if she herself would be considered “deserving”.

“Who determines who’s ‘deserving’ and who’s ‘bad’?” she asked, cocking an eyebrow in spite of serving no purpose towards who she was speaking to. “Are we talking biblical, eye for an eye type of punishment? Murder a murderer, cut the hands off a thief? Or is it more cutting open someone with overdue parking tickets? I understand the concept of give and take, but I’m a bit uneasy at the concept of one man playing judge, jury and executioner. I don’t know your judgment.” She let her words hang in the air for a moment, debating if she should really allow herself to try and benefit from a clear moral gray area.

“However, if you can prove to me that more good is done than harm, I’d be happy to help people find their way over to you. As fate would have it, I’m a bit in need of healing myself.” she said, raising her left hand up again. “Some kind of nerve damage to my left hand, at least that’s what the people at the hospital told me. Said there’s nothing they can do at the moment. The issue is, I’m a musician, so I sort of need my hands. I would love for you to help me, but only if nobody truly… undeserving gets hurt.”

This had been about the most selfish Elora had been in years. She felt as though she were making a deal with the devil. But if they were truly bad people, didn’t she deserve to have a fully functional body more than they did?

When Alistair hadn’t heard footsteps running away from him, he was surprised. He was expecting Melody to have to wipe the poor girl’s memory of the last several minutes and have her go on her way, but she was asking follow-up questions instead. How curious. He thought about her question, mulling it over in his head, chewing on his lower lip as he tried to formulate the correct words in his head before speaking them aloud. “We’re talking more biblical, aye.” He answered, arms crossing over his chest. “I don’t go out an’ find ‘em myself, mind.” He added, pointing towards his sunglasses. “I don’t think I’d be very good at it, quite frankly. But these people, they’re killing people for fun, not survival. Living in excess at the expense of the innocents, that sort of thing.” He waved a hand, then let his arms drop back down to his sides.

He listened as the woman tried to rationalize why she deserved to be healed, even after knowing what she knew. He was always fascinated by the mental gymnastics people had to do in order to feel better about the decisions they were trying to make. Alistair had resigned himself to being a bad person a long time ago, so the only times he truly grappled with a sacrifice was when someone was dying in front of him. Like that lady from the other day who had been stabbed in the chest. He’d felt bad about it for a little bit, but not enough to stop him from following through.

“If it’s your left medial nerve you want healed, I can do it. You need only ask.” He said with a shrug of his shoulders and a gesture with his left hand. “But there’s no going back once it’s been done. And I require payment for my services. Something valuable that isn’t money.” His face went stoic as he crossed his arms over his chest once more. “If I sacrifice something, I ask my clients to do the same.”

In her brief time here, Elora had learned that there certainly were bad people in this town who killed just for fun or personal gain. She’d honestly be doing the town a favor if she helped dispose of these types of people.

Her blood ran cold at the mention of a sacrifice. He was already doing great harm, and possibly even killing people for his “magic” to work. What more would a sacrifice do? Is it necessary or was this just some what to get his jollies by seeing how desperate someone is to be healed? She nervously ran her right thumb over the ring her mother had given her as a teenager. She had stolen it off the body of an unfortunate human woman who had wandered too close to their colony. At least, that was what she was told at the time.

“What do you gain from doing this? Is it out of the goodness of your own heart? I mean, if that were the case, you wouldn’t be asking for a sacrifice. Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful for the healing, but you seem like this isn’t your first time negotiating an equal sacrifice. Speaking of which, could you say that you’re making a sacrifice? You’re not really losing anything, just throwing some other unfortunate soul into the fire.”

Her ring was the only thing she really had left of her family back home, but she also knew it was the only real thing of value that she had with her. She had no other jewelry or clothes that cost more than $10, and she doubted a laptop would be of much use to him. Besides, she had her suspicions that he was speaking of a different kind of value anyway. After all, he sentimental items certainly did fit the theme of sacrifice much better.

Alistair’s stoic gaze soured as she questioned him. “What do I gain? I gain something important to the person. If what they need healing, and it is truly worth it to them, then that’s what it takes.” She was poking holes into his already flawed logic brought on by his own trauma. “I have sacrificed myself before.” He spoke, voice distant and far away. He pulled off his glasses, and the glamour he’d put on himself drifted away. Instead of the man's unflawed skin, a large burn scar covered his right eye and across the bridge of his nose. “I’ve sacrificed enough.” He snarled, then put the sunglasses back on, and the glamour was back up. There was no trace of the scars on his face the second he concealed his eyes.

He blinked behind his glasses, and he saw the man sending a ball of fire right at Mikael’s head. Alistair remembered the horrible screams that accompanied the blast. He remembered having to choose between saving the man he loved or the man who tried to take Mikael away from him. He chose to save his beloved. He remembered the agonizing pain of burning flesh as he desperately attempted to reverse the damage that had been done, but it was too late. Mikael was gone, and he had failed.

He blinked, and he was back in the back room with the girl who accused him of not knowing sacrifice. “You don’t know true sacrifice. No one does.” He snarled, dropping his hold of Brutus’s harness as he paced around the room, desperate to get the visions of that night out of his head. “Either you want it or you don’t. Either you can live with the knowledge, or you can’t.” Alistair stopped pacing, shaking his head. “The people that come to me are desperate enough to make that call for themselves, deciding the exchange is worth it.” He sighed, shaking his head. “There’s no such thing as healing someone without sacrifice. The laws require that magic maintain an equilibrium. Nothing comes without a price. You either pay the price or you don’t.” He tilted his head to the side, waiting for an answer.

In asking her questions, Elora couldn’t help but notice she hit a major nerve within the man she was speaking with. While he had seemed very jovial and friendly up until this point, that demeanor completely changed as he showed her his burn scars. He had been using some type of glamor to conceal the scars before, but his eyes told her everything she needed to know.

“I’m sorry…” she said quietly. The whole rant had really let her know that he was no stranger to sacrifice, he knew the pain of losing something very important. “I guess I assumed that you were born that way. I have a good talent at putting my foot in my mouth… a lot.”

She still contemplated her answer to the man. On the one hand, could she really knowingly cause harm to somebody else for her own personal gain? But on the other hand, the sacrifices the man speaks of can’t be chosen or taken lightly, since he clearly knew all too well what sacrifice means. His loss of sight started to make her nerve damage seem extremely minor in comparison.

Without another word, she removed her mother’s ring from her finger and took the man’s hand to place the ring in his palm.

“My mother’s. All I have left of her. I’m willing to pay the price. I’m willing to do what it takes. I think I’ve learned enough about you to where I can trust you now. I didn’t mean to bring up any…harsh memories for you.”

Alistair huffed indignantly, shaking his head at the girl. “Afraid not,” was all he said in response. “So it would see you do.” He noted. He took a moment to stand there and re-compose himself. He could still see Mikael in his mind, see the happy moments along with the last. It was the happiest memories that now hurt him the most, he found.

He felt his hand touch the metal object placed within it. He closed his hand, feeling the material around until he was able to identify it as a ring. He hummed, then held it back out. “I’ll need a couple of days to prepare what’s needed.” He told her as he handed the ring back. “Hold onto it until then.” His voice was soft as if he didn’t want her to part with the ring. “Come in on Monday with your hair tied back. Melody will get you set up on training and food safety.” He spoke to her with a raise of his brow. “When you come in, I’ll see to it that your hand is fixed.” Alistair pulled on Brutus’s harness and instructed him to bring him to the door and pulled it open, ushering the woman out of the back room.

“I’ll see you Monday.” He said, then paused for a beat before adding, “Enjoy the tea.”

#deathsplaything #contemporarybardess #wickedswriting #help wanted #Elora x Alistair

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rockruin · 1 year

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@abmusic / cont.

𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐒 𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅 𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑, 𝐒𝐎 𝐓𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐋𝐘 𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 around an idea, around an ideal, that at times billy dunne seems less a person and more a construct — nothing about him seems natural, spontaneous. each movement carefully reflected upon, as if invisible wiretraps laid out all around him might, at any given moment, sound the sirens and startle him to his core. and she knows, somewhere in the back of her mind, that this should be reason enough to step back: a glaring warning, red neon above his head — no vacancy. yet in between, he betrays himself. fragments of pages peeking through and teasing: there’s a fine print between the lines. in it lies the context — in it, the secret. can’t help the thrill. not unlike the piles of books scattered around her room, always starving for another reveal, endlessly diving into stories unlike her own to find a reflection, a meaning, a mirror. the reflection stands before her now, but obscured: how fucking badly she wants to shine a light on it.

so she grins — for all the nervous coldness he shrouds himself in, daisy lights herself up in unabashed silliness, rolls her eyes to diminish the orders he spits out, casually, as if he could really hold control over any facet of life. ❝ is there a point where you stop being like — ❞, a hand moves to gesture vaguely at him, while she grabs her bag, willingly forgetting the pages scribbled with lyrics behind, and heads towards the door. ❝ this ? ‘cause i’m very much looking forward to the moment you stop being a chunk of wood and turn into a real boy, pinocchio ❞. beyond the door, the world opens up gold and blue, lilac in the sky, glimmering. a light evening breeze rises, faint strings in the distance — daisy takes it in, breathes it in in eager lungfuls. eyes closed, leaning into the wind — chest heaving as if the wind blew into her, too. then, just as naturally, a hand slips in the pocket of her jeans, retrieves a tiny pill, and sets it down on the tip of her tongue. daisy swallows, gives off an approving hum, then she smiles. ❝ you gotta get out of that head of yours, billy ❞. a sigh carries out her frustration, and she walks in slow strides, arms wide and gesturing at the space around her. ❝ the world is beautiful. and shitty, and messy, and really fucking complicated — and way bigger than your head ❞ then she turns, her grin turning a particular shade of shit-eating: ❝ though your head is pretty fucking big ❞.

the thing he doesn’t quite get, the thing she can’t quite explain, is that he is not her enemy. probably the very opposite of it — something in him speaks back to something in her. all her incessant prodding and prying is only a hopeless attempt at seeing what it is. like a toy needing to be broken around to see how it works, she’s desperate to see the inner workings of billy dunne, to ask questions she can’t quite put into words, but sound somewhat like — how did it come to you, the sound ? was it also a survival mechanism ? are you also only real when the spotlight’s on and the music starts and all their eyes are on you ? do you also fade out when they turn around ? daisy keeps her lips tight, and asks none of them, but instead hums to herself a little refrain stuck in her mind. d major into a vague c, g follows close behind. up ahead, red and white curtains shield a cotton candy cart from the sun — daisy stops, and smiles. ❝ god. i haven’t had cotton candy in ages. ❞ she turns towards billy, hopeful. ❝ you got any spare change ? ❞

#abmusic #ft — billy dunne.#𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙢𝙚 𝙪𝙥 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙬𝙖𝙩𝙘𝙝 𝙢𝙚 𝙗𝙪𝙧𝙣 𝙞𝙩 𝙙𝙤𝙬𝙣 — main v.#bitch if ur reblogs mess up again ....#i'm afraid i'm gonna have to kill the s.taff

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marshmellow-diary · 2 years

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“Welcome, ladies and gentlemen!”

It was a grand stage, the black velvet curtains were drawn close. Letting the mind wonder what impressive things await the audience.

A figure stood still at the center, not allowing any pair of eyes to wander off from her presence. With her arm outstretched to the side in a gesture of warm reception, her satin voice was full of vitality.

Donned in a suit of opulent red with a mask on her face of the same color, the spotlight made sure she was vivid. Like a burning flame in the midst of darkness.

Murmurs started from the upper and lower boxes. The opera house’s sole purpose for tonight is this grand auction.

Among the voices, one was heard sharply in his area.

“She is stunning as always. Operating this auction for decades but still looking ever youthful.” Who knew who said it?

The people coming here were all anonymous. But the person who spoke only voiced out everyone’s thoughts.

“Too bad, she can never be bought.” It was a gruff tone.

The people around became uneasy. Everyone knew the taboos of the auction. None should bring up buying the auction master. Previous people who were brazen enough to mention this were never heard of again. And so, even their outside personae were revealed as the news would report big names going missing.

Back to the stage, the auctioneer has her perpetual smirk as though she wasn’t aware of their hidden thoughts and desires.

“Tonight, we will enjoy another delicacy to the eyes. As always, the grand finale is showcased by yours truly.” She bowed. “The last exhibit, Acedia!”

The heavy curtains opened.

Her grand auctions would always end in a bang and tonight is no exception. After priceless treasures from all over the world, the last piece would always be a living, breathing human.

The crowd ooh’ed and aah’ed. The spotlight shifted to a man of honey skin, and long hair.

“Raised in the lands embraced by seas and mountains, Acedia has freedom and wildness in his bones. What will happen if all of this is taken from him? Do you have the ability?” Her magnetic voice resounded and bounced back on every wall.

Those who heard her got excited, clenching their armrests and short of shouting the prices on the tip of their tongues. Her figure can’t be seen anymore, hiding in the shadows but her voice beckoned them.

The starting price was announced. Many placed their bids.

Acedia lay there almost naked while being gawked at by a hundred or more people. The lights blinded him but he felt their stares

Silk sheets covered his lower body. Chains bound his neck and limbs. His mind was dull from all the drugs administered to him.

How and why is he here? He forgot them all already. He ran out of thoughts to escape from the unfairness of it all.

Somewhere from the corner of his eyes, he noticed an obscure figure, like it was slithering in the darkness. Terror gripped his heart. This woman… no, this creature.

He didn’t want to see them again. Hurry, sell me. I don’t want to stay in this place even just for a day more.

Not knowing what awaits him, Acedia just wanted to get out of this hell.

When the bidding was over, a clinically obese man was pushed to the stage in his custom-made wheelchair. This man had a sleazy look that couldn’t be hidden behind a mask. And he kept rubbing his fingers together as though he couldn't wait. “Miss, my assistant will handle the rest.”

“But of course.” The woman gave a perfect smile.

In Acedia’s eyes, it was wicked. There seemed to be a heavy stone weighing down his stomach. And it got heavier the more the man neared him.

Why? Why?

Why him of all people? Why did he need to experience these things?

His body convulsed in an attempt to show his repulsion. But who was he to refuse?

A hot and sweaty palm touched his stomach and he almost frothed in his mouth. Tears welled up in his eyes.

Behind the fat man, he saw her. She slowly turned her head as she felt his desperate stare.

Seeing him struggle, she gave a smile. One that could only be called pure and guileless. Her expression stayed like that as he was dragged away to his new home. New owner.

The guests were all leaving. The night was over.

She walked back to her dressing room without turning the lights on her way. There was nothing to fear in the dark.

There was no one in the halls as if a big event didn’t happen just now. Of course, the staff of the opera house didn’t exist. She didn’t need them.

Opening another door, she was greeted by the moonlight coming from the windows.

She sauntered in a trance.

Then, a question echoed in her mind. The meaning would loosely be, ‘What do you want to be?’

It was a sound etched with divinity. One that still awed her to this day.

‘A hunter,’ She remembered answering in her true voice. ‘I will hunt all the devils and the fallen. There’s only me who can give them hell.’

She recalled the feeling of amusement emanating from Him and when she opened her eyes again, she was here.

The vanity mirror caught her reflection before it shattered into thousand pieces. Her real visage is something this world can’t handle.

Her name cannot be uttered.

But despite it all, her lips curved at the corners. Her eyes flashed in what seemed like an ephemeral glow.

“Now… who’s next?”

-fin-

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Amiel God is with my people.

#writeblr #writing #fic #oc #original fiction #writing ideas #biblical angel #amiel #art

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avintagekiss24 · 3 years

Text

one cup sugar, one cup spice | a. barber

→ pairing: andy barber x black!reader

→ word count: 7074

→ warnings: age gap, corruption kink, innocent reader, daddy kink, pain kink, smut, sex, loss of virginity, vaginal fingering, hand job (male receiving)

→ author note: happy holidays my dudes! what i would do to have andy barber standing in my kitchen... anyway, reader is i n n o c e n t, but totally of age, and in college. as always, line breaks by @firefly-graphics, gif by @evansensations

There’s a light dust of white covering the green lawns and black asphalt of the street. You shiver as you follow your parents out towards their car, pulling your beanie down over your ears before you shove your hands into your navy blue Dartmouth hoodie.

“Honey,” your mom coos, turning back towards you as your dad loads the car, “Are you sure you don’t want to come with us? Your aunt has plenty of room.”

“I’m positive,” you laugh, “Aunt Sohpie and I don’t get along that great anyway.”

“Well, you could try a little harder.”

Your mouth drops open, eyes wide as you stare at her, “She called me a stuck up, yuppie bitch when I told her I wasn’t going to stop using deodorant.”

Your dad chuckles, prompting a swift slap to the shoulder from your mother before she turns back towards you, “Sophie is a free spirit. She doesn’t believe in putting chemicals in or on her body. One week of trying to get along won’t hurt you.”

“Oh, it’ll hurt,” you answer, pulling her into a hug, “Smelling her B.O. for a week would actually kill me.”

Your mother tuts, pulling back and slumping her shoulders a little as she squeezes your sides gently, “I don’t want to leave you here alone for Christmas.”

“Oh, stop badgering the girl. She’ll be fine,” your dad cuts in, kissing your forehead when he approaches, “She had a tough semester, she’s allowed some alone time. Be good, baby. I left a credit card on my desk for any emergencies.”

You smile warmly, “Thanks daddy.”

There’s a sound of a door opening, then closing, heavy footsteps against the old wood of the porch next door, “Oh, Andy,” your mom calls towards the neighbor, “You got a minute?”

Your face scrunches as you glance over at your father, who sighs heavy, “Don’t get mad, baby.”

“Why would I get mad?”

“She kinda, you know,” he shrugs, knocking his head back and forth, “Asked the neighbor to look in on you while we’re gone,” when your face drops, he throws up his hands, “I didn’t do it, she did.”

“Mom!” You hiss, flipping your eyes to the tall, dark haired man cutting across his front lawn, “I don’t need a babysitter! I’m twenty years old!”

“Hush,” she whispers, plastering a smile on her face as she wraps her arm around your waist, “Sorry to bother you, Andy.”

“Oh, no, no, no. It’s okay, I was just checking the mail.”

You’re angry and embarrassed as the tall, older man approaches, but a sudden heat blooms across your chilled brown skin. Pushing your glasses up your nose, you take a heavy breath, expelling it hard as you eye him. You’ve only really seen him in passing, throwing your hand up in a friendly wave as you jogged into your childhood home during a long weekend away from school. You only vaguely remember him moving in about a year or two before. Hell, you don’t even think the two of you have uttered anything more than just a neighborly ‘hey’, and now, thanks to your mother, he’s going to be keeping an eye on you.

Just wonderful.

She smiles proudly, “You remember our daughter, right?”

“I do,” he smiles slowly, an intense pair of blue-green eyes bouncing between yours, “We’ve run into each other a few times over the years. How you doin’ kiddo?”

He reaches out, extending a large palm and long fingers. You take it gently, smiling soft as you drop your eyes from his, nerves suddenly pooling in your stomach, “Um, good. Thanks for asking. How um,” you swallow, glancing back up at him, finding his eyes still centered on you, “How are you?”

He shrugs, but keeps your much smaller hand in his, “Can’t complain.”

“Listen, honey,” your mom starts, “I asked Mr. Barber to pop over and check on you every now and again while we’re gone.”

“Mother,” fake laughter filling the air, your face hot from being annoyed to all hell, “I’m not a child, and I’m sure Mr. Barber has better things to do with his time than to check on me constantly.”

“It’s no problem,” he shrugs again, those eyes of his now roaming, down your body, then up again, slowly, “I have the next couple of weeks off myself.”

“Congrats on the promotion, by the way.” Your father smiles, finally drawing Andy’s attention away from you. He nudges your side with his elbow, “Andy’s the new District Attorney.”

You keep your eyes on the tall Andy, sliding them the length of his body. He’s sturdy. Broad shoulders not so hidden underneath his zip up hoodie, clinging to thick biceps. Dark jeans accentuate long legs and a little waist. A perfect, full beard lines his strong jaw and chin. Two enormous hands are shoved into the pockets of his pants, so large that they don’t even fit right… You inhale deep, drawing your bottom lip into your mouth, sinking your teeth into the flesh as a tiny moan slips through.

Blue eyes snap to you again as it sounds. God. Your lips part, eyes widen as they stare back at him in embarrassment. He just smiles again, slow and seemingly knowing; his eyes falling down your frame again.

“We better go if we’re gonna miss traffic, hun.” Your dad’s voice suddenly breaks into your conscience, snapping you out of the small trance that Andy Barber has leveled over you, “Andy, thanks for watching over our baby while we’re gone.”

Andy winks at you, “I won’t hover, I promise. If you need anything, at any time, I’m right next door, okay? Better yet, let me give you my number.”

You nod quick, clearing your throat as you fumble around with your phone, pulling it out of your hoodie and handing it over to him, “Sure, yeah. Th-thank you, Mr. Barber.”

“Andy,” he corrects, reaching out and cupping your elbow gently, “Please.”

Another warmth spreads through you, emanating from the contact, making you giggle and smile nervously like a stupid girl before you get a hold of yourself and blink away. You all exchange another round of pleasantries, Andy wishing your parents a safe trip before he locks eyes with you again— biting his lip as he blinks and hands your phone back before turning away and heading towards his mailbox.

Almost frozen in place, you blink as you watch him move across his grass, forcefully swallowing. You really need to get out more.

One last hug from your mom and dad and you wave as they pull out of the driveway, your mom waving excitedly at you through the windshield. Rolling your eyes, but smiling wide, you return a wave before heading back inside, locking the door behind you before making a brisk b-line to the front door.

Andy’s still outside, pushing the green trash cans up against his garage as you peek out at him from behind the thin, white, door curtains. He throws open one of the lids before dipping his head, eyeing the mail in his hand as he flips through it slowly, tossing the junk into the open can. A pink blush piques on his cheeks and the tip of his nose, lips red with the chill. He looks up suddenly— out of nowhere— and cocks his head, letting another smile curl onto his lips when the two of you make eye contact again.

You gasp and jump back, instantly turning on your heel to run up the stairs towards your bedroom, “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!”

The smell of fresh baked cookies fills the house as you pull a pan from the oven. You hum in satisfaction, a small smile on your face as you scoop the sugar cookies onto the cooling rack before pulling your mom’s Santa Claus mittens off your hands and tossing them to the counter. Last Christmas by Wham plays from the small bluetooth speaker in the corner of the kitchen, A Charlie Brown Christmas on mute playing from the ipad leaning against the utensil holder.

There’s a random crackling from the fire you started in the living room as you move around, a whir from the mixer as it beats the eggs, powdered sugar, vanilla extract, and corn syrup together. You dip your finger into the mixture, popping it into your mouth and groaning as the sweetness explodes on your tongue before you pull the beaters out, slipping your finger down the stainless steel to collect the icing still stuck to them.

A knock sounds from the front door, permeating through the rather quiet house. You lean to the side, blinking at the door as a shadow shifts through the windows on either side. Shoving the icing laden finger into your mouth, you jog towards the door, bare feet heavy against the wood floor.

“One second, one second,” you mumble, wiping your hands on your pale pink cotton shorts before you tug at your hoodie and unlock the door. A sharp inhale of cold air fills your chest when you pull open the door to find one Andy fucking Barber standing on the opposite side, “Oh,” is all you can manage.

“Hey,” he smiles, “It’s been a few days, just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Being a biomedical engineering student, you can rattle off some of the most difficult, obscure words known to man with exactly zero problems. When it comes to social interaction with the hot, forty-something, lawyer next door? Your tongue is heavy, your brain… dumb.

His smile widens as you blink like a moron, his eyebrows climbing up his forehead as he waits for you to talk. Here’s the part where you speak, dumbass! “Um,” you stutter, “Sorry, I, uh, yeah, I’m okay. I’m good, sorry.”

“Smells good in here.”

Nodding, you bite your lip, your eyes everywhere but on his face— his stare just too much, “I’m making cookies.” you glance over your shoulder before you point, “Do you want to make some? I mean,” you slam your eyes closed, “Do you want to try some? Not, some, one, do you— do you want to try one? Or some… I guess… whatever.”

Idiot. You’re a bumbling, stumbling, idiot.

He chuckles, the rumble low and deep as he runs one of those big ass hands through his dark, soft looking hair, “That is the best offer I’ve had all day.”

He steps over the threshold, his fingers brushing over yours as he reaches to close the door. You snatch your hand from it quickly, wringing it within the other as you turn awkwardly and move towards the kitchen, swallowing hard, suddenly hyper aware of how bare your legs are.

“It’s Christmas Eve,” Andy starts from behind you, “I’m surprised to find you here and not out with some friends.”

You move behind the marble topped island in the center of the kitchen as Andy walks around the opposite side. His eyes are on you again, staring as you fumble with the spatula, your fingers going as dumb as your brain, dropping it with a loud clang. You don’t even know why— okay, you know why, but this is something deeper, something you haven’t experienced before.

“Oh,” you shrug, “No, I uh, I just kinda like to stay around the house.”

He nods slowly, “A homebody, huh? Me too.”

He makes you dizzy; his masculinity is intimidating. It fills up every little space in the room. His intelligence— worldly, experienced— oozes from him. He looks like you could ask him anything, anything, and he’d have the right answer for you. He could teach you a thing or two, that’s for sure.

A shudder creeps through your body, heat blooming across your skin, having to shift on your feet as your stomach flutters while you focus on icing this stupid cookie. The physical space he takes up unnerves you too. That wide, towering frame looming over you. Deft, thick fingers tapping gently against the countertop as you stumble around, your hands shaky.

There’s a stickiness. A warm, little wet spot in the center of your panties as stupid thoughts run through your stupid brain. You’re being ridiculous. Like this grown man would be interested in an inexperienced, socially awkward, in bed by eight thirty, little girl. Get a grip.

You slather some icing over the warm cookie and cautiously hand it towards him, clearing your throat and forcing a smile. Wringing your hands again, you find a little courage to lift your eyes just as he pops the small cookie into his mouth, closing his eyes as he chews slowly, a grunt sounding from deep in his throat.

Every muscle in your body clenches at the sound. It’s gorgeous— and if there’s anything your body appreciates, it’s a gorgeous man with a gorgeous grunt.

“It’s okay?” You squeak, timid and small before you nervously clear your throat.

“Shit, girl,” he moans again, licking his lips as he extends his hand again, “I could eat every single one of these.”

Nervous fingers clutch another cookie, adding a dollop of icing before you hand it over to him, eyes drifting up his chest and to his face as he devours the second treat. Your curious eyes watch with a longing. Pretty, thick, dark eyelashes closing again, splashing across smooth, slightly reddened cheeks. A pink tongue darts out of a wet mouth to slip along an inviting— too inviting— bottom lip, and you zero in on it. Chest rising and falling a little harder as you blink, in your own little world as you imagine just how much experience those lips, that tongue has.

There’s a hint of blue suddenly, his eyes no longer closed, now set squarely on you as those sickenly perfect white teeth emerge with another sly smile.

Another wave of embarrassment pushes through your veins, but you can’t look away from him this time. Locked in a heated stare, mind racing, palms sweaty as you watch Andy dip his index finger into the bowl of icing, scooping the sugary mix onto the pad of his digit.

“You like watching me, huh?”

Your mouth parts to answer, but nothing comes out, mouth and throat suddenly dry. He laughs at you, standing there, dumb and nervous, unable to form a coherent sentence as he pushes the tip of his finger into his mouth, sucking the icing from it slowly.

He’s moving, that much your brain can comprehend. Moving around the island, sliding the bowl of icing right to the edge where he dips his finger again, curling it to collect another glob.

Shallow, shaky breaths escape the small part in your lips, your chest and stomach so tight you’re surprised you can breathe at all. As it is, you have to rest your palm against the marble island, just to keep from falling over.

A long arm slips around your waist, nudging you forward— closer— so close that when one of those shallow, little breaths pushes out, your chest, well, your tits, brush against his. You picked a fine day to go without a bra. He drops his free hand to your waist, pushing it underneath your oversized hoodie to feel your skin as he wraps those long fingers around your hip, giving it a squeeze before he cups your chin.

“You have a boyfriend back at that fancy ass school?” He asks, eyes hooded as he tilts your head upward.

A hum vibrates through your chest before there’s a quick shake of your head as he pushes the icing over your bottom lip, smearing the sugary mix along it. He keeps your chin anchored in his hand as he stares down at you through slits, his own mouth dropping open as he coaxes yours.

“No, a smart girl like you doesn’t have time for boys, does she?” He purrs, “You probably haven’t even been touched by a boy.”

A squeak chokes in your throat as he teases you, pushing that finger back and forth, the tip pushing ever so gently into your mouth. He chuckles again, real low, menacing almost as he knows he has you right where he wants you.

“Ya know,” he starts, thumbs stroking your chin and jaw, “This Christmas cookie frosting would taste a hundred times better on you than my finger.” He smiles again, tilting his head, “Can I see?”

You mewl, pitiful and small as emotion pools in your eyes. You’re overwhelmed— nervous and unsure, wanting to be perfect. Womanly— but surely falling flat.

“Oh, baby,” he laughs, sweeping his thumbs underneath your eyes to catch the hot streaks, “Awww, it’s okay.”

Andy pushes in close, his lips brushing yours as he nuzzles his nose into the crook of yours, a low sound thrumming in his throat. He presses his cheek against your face, the soft hair of his beard pushing along your skin, goosebumps popping up all over. Your bodies start to sway in a slow rhythm, side to side, his warm breath washing over you as he smiles.

He pulls away, eyes traveling your face, “You haven’t even been kissed before?” When you don’t answer, he closes his eyes, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth, “No? Oh, my sweet girl. That is just,” he groans, eyes twinkling with an emotion you don’t even understand, “You are so perfect— so good.”

His forehead comes to rest on yours, his hands still corralling your face, fingers sticky. His tongue darts out quick, licking at your lips, dragging up to the tip of your nose. You shudder, bleating as the rough velvet passes over your mouth.

Andy moans again, sucking the icing into his mouth and swallows slow, “Yum.”

You’re jittery— clammy, as labored breaths push out of your mouth, a murky fog clouding your brain. Shaky whirs tremble through your chest as you shift on your feet, your panties sticking to your now throbbing pussy. Andy closes the distance between your mouths again, his eyes hooded as he nips at you.

Your eyes flutter, closing instinctively— waiting for the claim. It doesn’t come, not right away, making your eyes pop open, a childish whine squeaking out. You even stomp your foot a little. Twenty years is a long enough wait.

“Kiss me,” you breathe, not wasting a second, “Please, Andy—”

The words are barely out of your mouth before he grabs your lips, inhaling deep. His tongue fucks into your mouth, slipping along the roof before massaging yours, sucking lightly. You go limp against him, trying to keep up with the fervent kiss, but soon just let him take full control.

Andy pushes his hips into yours, pressing his hard cock against you, forcing you to break the kiss, gasping deep. He rests his forehead on yours again, tittering as he bites his bottom lip, “Never felt that before, huh? Mmmm,” he groans again, “I bet you feel good. So tight and warm— umph, I’m probably not even going to be able to fit my cock all in.”

You shudder at the thought.

He brushes the tip of his nose against yours, “I gotta open you up a bit, don’t I? Hmm? This sweet little cunt needs to get used to being stuffed full.” He turns you in his hands, presses his burly chest into your back, his lips to your ear, “I want you to finish icing these cookies like a good girl, okay? You do as daddy says.”

You don’t move, you can’t really, as you try to comprehend what’s going on. It takes Andy pushing his crotch into your ass, grinding your hips against the island and literally grabbing your wrists, making your hands grab the butter knife and a cookie before your brain catches up. With shaky fingers, you push the knife through the icing and slather it on one of the small, round, golden brown cookies.

“Good girl,” he praises, pecking your cheek, nuzzling into the side of your face, “Daddy wants you to focus.”

He drags his warm palms up your forearms, stroking gently before they fall to your sides. They push up into your hoodie, fingertips glancing across sensitive, untouched skin. Small laughter vibrates through his chest as you jump and gasp, huffing and keening as he explores.

Little kisses are pressed to your temple and side of your face as his hands venture up your sides, curling around your rib cage until he’s grasping your bare tits in both hands, squeezing and kneading— hissing as he grinds his rigidly hard cock into your ass.

You freeze, body going stiff as nimble fingers play with your thick, piqued nipples. Warm lips nip at your neck as you push back into his hips, wiggling slowly, the thin cotton of your shorts not proving to be much of a barrier at all.

Andy reaches around, plucking the cookie out of your hand and pops it into his mouth just as his free hand skips down your stomach— right into your shorts. You jut your hips forward as his fingers plunge through your folds, massaging your clit slowly as he murmurs in your ear.

“That’s what I love about virgins. The slightest little touch gets you all worked up.” He pulls his hand from your shorts, holding it out for you to see your slick coating his fingers— a string connecting from his index finger to the middle. He brings his wet fingers to your lips, steel eyes peering at you as he waits, “Clean ‘em up.”

He slides his free hand back into your sweatshirt, pushing it up over your tits before he tweaks your left nipple, rolling it slow as he pushes the tips of his fingers into your mouth. Sweet, tiny little whines sound from you as you accept his long fingers into your mouth, starting to suck gently, the taste of your arousal exploding on your tongue.

“That’s right, just like that baby.” He reassures, slipping a hand back into your panties.

Your mouth goes slack around his fingers as he toys with you, rubbing your achy clit as your hips start to move with his rhythm. Resting your weight against his sturdy body, you moan loud, pushing out hard breaths, eyes slipping closed, head rolling on his shoulder as his wet fingers slip from your mouth back to your left nipple.

His fingers start to tease your slit, pushing gently, slowly, until… a sharp yelp fills the kitchen as two fingers stuff you full. Andy wraps his arm around your waist, holding you to him, cooing in your ear as he continues to push in, “You’re okay baby. I know, I know sweet girl, we’re almost there. Just a bit more.”

Tears sting your eyes as your face strains from the pressure and pain of being spread for the first time. Once his fingers have disappeared, the heel of his palm pressing against your folds and clit, he pulls your chin towards him and licks at your mouth, sucking air in between his teeth.

“I can’t wait to fuck this sweet pussy,” he kisses you quick and hard, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth before he releases you with a loud smack, “I love a virgin cunt. It’s been a while since I’ve had one.”

You squeak when his fingers start to move, slow, deep, a squelch sounding as his fingers push into your muscles. It hurts, but there’s a twinge of good, something inside of you being pleasured once you push past the pain. The sweet taste of pleasure doesn’t stop the tears from rolling down your cheeks as his fingers pick up a brisk pace.

Andy growls in your ear, the sound scratching at the back of his throat, kind of hollow and breathy as he grinds his cock into your ass, “You havent fucked yourself like this before? I didn’t think I’d hurt you this bad with just my fingers, baby.”

A hot, rough wetness slides along your cheek, his tongue, lapping at you. You grab onto his forearm, feeling his muscles tense and flex as he fingers your innocence, digging your nails into the thick Shetland wool sweater covering his torso. He pushes deep, suddenly, making you cry out again.

He grunts, snaking his hand up into your hoodie to take a firm hold of your tit. Resting his forehead to the back of your head, he quickens his fingers, his hot breath on the back of your neck, quick swipes of his tongue and lips against your hypersensitive skin— making the miniscule hairs on your body stand on end.

His palm presses against your clit with each shove of his fingers. Strapping, hard chest flattened to your back, loud, husky moans in your ear. His hips roll and push, writhe into yours as his fingers start to thrash. Teeth sink into your shoulder, his tongue sliding and sweeping.

“Andy—” you cry, whimpering like a child, “It hurts. I— I can’t,”

“Oh, sweetheart.” His fingers slow and then stop, pulling out of you to rub your clit, soothing the balmy flesh. He turns you around in his arms as you cry, lifting you right from your feet, “I’m sorry. Shh, shh, I’m sorry, baby.”

The instant warmth of his mammoth chest and arms soothe the tumultuous pangs of anxiety coursing through you. Nuzzling in, the softness of his beard helps ease your nerves as you wrap two jelly arms around his neck. Andy’s big hands push up and down your back as he murmurs sweet nothings. Stomach tight, heart fluttering, face hot and wet with tears— you’re properly overwhelmed and overstimulated, and Andy could just eat it all up.

“You are so pretty when you cry, you know that? You did so good, baby. You took my fingers so well.”

You huff, disappointed, pushing your face deeper into his neck, “I’m sorry.”

“Hey, don’t do that,” he whispers, “It’s okay to not be ready.” He sits you back on your feet, pulling and adjusting your sweatshirt back over your chest. He pecks your lips quick before cupping your face in his hands, “It’s gonna make our first time together so much better.”

He pushes in to kiss you again, but stops, just as his lips brush yours. You get up on your tiptoes, wanting to meet his mouth but he’s quick, pulling away and stealing another cookie as he takes a step back.

“Thanks for the cookies, sweetheart.”

And just like that, with a wink and a smile, he’s moving out of the kitchen, the front door slamming behind him.

It might as well be the middle of a Texas summer heatwave in your bedroom. Exasperated, you throw the covers away from your body, skin slick with sweat as you wipe at your forehead. You’ve been like this all day— hot and irritated, stomach and mind jumbled, unable to focus on much of anything but thoughts of depravity. Pissed off at yourself more than anything; that you couldn’t take it all.

You sit up in the dark room, a sliver of moonlight spilling in from behind the thin curtains over your window. Snow flakes float down from the sky, glimmering, basking in the soft, natural light of the moon. Thoughts of Andy return. Reddened, full lips on your face, his soft, velvety, pink tongue forging its own path in the uncharted territory that is your mouth. His hands, big and warm, pinching and grabbing, pushing in deep.

Every muscle in your body clenches; achy cunt squeezing around nothing.

A soft light illuminates from the nightstand, followed by a buzz, a random alert from your twitter. But then, oh but then— Andy’s words come floating back to you. Better yet, let me give you my number. The sleek iphone is in your hand within seconds, fingers sliding over the keyboard, shooting off a text.

You 1:15am

You up?

Andy B. 1:17am

What’s a smart girl like you doing up so late on Christmas Eve?

An influx of air fills your lungs as your heart leaps.

You 1:17am

I can’t sleep…

Andy B. 1:18am

Want me to help with that?

You won’t be getting much sleep tho…

You 1:18am

That’s what I’m hoping…

Andy B. 1:19am

LOL, okay smarty pants, come wait for Santa with me, front door’s open

You’re already halfway down the stairs by the time his invite slides across the screen. You shove your feet into your Ugg boots at the bottom of the staircase and grab your jacket from the coat rack, pushing into it as you throw open the front door. Crossing your arms over your chest, you jog down the steps of the porch and start for Andy’s, an instant chill rattling right down to your bones.

Footprints in the snow follow you as you cross the lawn, a light crunch sounding underneath your feet, adding to the whoosh of a breeze that rips through the sleepy street. Once you’re on Andy’s porch, you reach for the door, pushing through the threshold and closing it softly with a click.

The house is dark, and quiet, a tiny point of light coming from the kitchen and the random ticks of a clock somewhere deep. Your jacket hits the floor, ugg boots thump against the wall as you kick them off, hand slides along the banister as you climb the stairs slow. Wide eyes adjust to the dark as you pad slowly down the long hall, passing by one closed door, and then another until you reach one that’s slightly ajar. Light spills out of it, splashing over your bare toes as you step right up to it, fingertips pushing against the door.

You find Andy propped up against his headboard, chest bare, legs spread— hard, pink cock sticking out of his boxers, gripped tight in his hand. He flips his eyes to yours as he strokes himself slow, pushing his hips into it, groaning at the sight of you.

The air in your body— the room— is sucked right out as you lock eyes. With a blink, your greedy eyes are on the move, down his hair smattered chest and chiseled stomach, over the dark blue boxer briefs, down his meaty thighs and toned calves, right to his curled toes and back up again.

You have to bite your lip to keep quiet.

“I’ve been,” the words out of his mouth come to a halt being replaced by a low grunt as he squeezes his cock, precum dribbling out of his slit, “Shit sweetheart, I’ve been thinking about you all day. Haven’t been able to cum since you left me all worked up.”

You bleat softly, blinking wild and nervous as you watch his hand slide up and down, palm and fingers sweeping over his mushroom head to collect the droplets of his arousal to push it down his shaft.

“Well, come on. Come touch me.”

It’s a good thing your feet aren’t as stupid as your brain, or else you’d still be standing in place. Before you can get your mind to catch up, you're pulling yourself towards the edge of the bed, falling forward, catching yourself with your hands. Crawling between his legs, your tank top hangs low, Andy’s eyes peering down your cleavage before you sit on your knees— hands trembling.

He reaches for you, grabbing your wrist gently, pulling your hand towards his towering cock. Guiding you slow, he wraps your hand around him, his hips jerking soft at the warmth of your palm and pushes your hand down to his base, before dragging it up to the tip. He helps you for a few more strokes, twisting your hand around him, guiding your fingers up over his cock head and then back down, squeezing your hand to apply a gentle pressure.

“That’s right, baby—ah—” he hisses, jutting his hips up into your hand, “Shit.”

You continue to pump him after his hand falls away, relishing in the small noises that sound from him— sending your heart soaring. His hips pulse into your hand, eyes fluttering as more cum bubbles out, slipping and sliding over your fingers. Andy reaches for the lamp on the nightstand, turning it out, covering the room in darkness except for the moon.

He’s beautiful like this. Chest tight and shuddering with each breath, dark eyelashes splayed over fair skin, a chorus of sweet, small little whines and praise pouring from him. A soft pink blush unfurling over his broad chest, creeping up his neck.

“Fuck baby,” breathless and strained, “You’re a fuckin’ pro already. My smart little girl.” You suck your bottom lip into your mouth but still can’t help the smile that tugs at the corners, “Oh, you like that?” Andy smiles lazily, “You like being my smart little girl?”

Hot lips are on yours before you can even form your mouth to answer. Flipped onto your back, strong hips digging into yours, his cock pushing against your covered clit and slit as he kisses you hard. It takes your breath away.

You’d always thought you’d be awkward, stiff and unknowing, once you finally reached this moment— nothing but teeth and elbows and knees in all the wrong places— but, there’s a natural instinct coming into play. You’re lost, but somehow intricately aware. Fingers creep up his biceps and curl around his shoulder blades, digging in as your hips push back into his. Mouth leans into the feverish kisses, tongue sliding with his.

Colossal hands push into your shorts, pushing them down before his feet knock them off the rest of the way. Your top is rucked up, up over your breasts, exposing more brown skin, two soft, jiggling mounds, two piqued nipples soon sucked into a warm, wet mouth. A long middle finger toys with your clit, rubbing circles before more fingers join, slipping through slick and skin as they play.

“Tell me,” hot, whispered words sting in your ear, “Tell me you like being my smart girl.”

Hips dig into yours once more, hard cock pushing against your sensitive nub, then pressing at your opening. You grab the back of his neck, moaning hard and loud as electricity bounces through your veins, “Andy—” you squeak, “I like—”

A sharp cry breaks through the words as Andy pushes hard, spearing you for the very first time. Pressure and pain courses through you, body going tight and stiff as he sinks deeper and deeper, large palms on your cheeks, forehead to yours, warm breaths and ragged, choked grunts washing over your face.

Hard kisses— one, two, three— on your lips as he holds your face, his eyes closed, mouth hanging as he sinks, sinks, sinks until you’ve taken him all. Your head is empty. Devoid of any real, coherent thoughts, unable to focus on any one thing; well, nothing other than the fullness.

“Tell me you like being my smart girl.” Andy rasps, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth, trying to keep himself together. He shifts, hips pulling away from yours, cock dragging out, “Come on baby, tell me you like it.”

Andy pushes his hips, pushes back into you, but real gentle and smooth, knowing you’re teetering— overwhelmed in more ways than one, a feeling that can turn south on a dime. So, he keeps his hands on your face, thumbs rubbing soft circles. He opens his eyes, giving you something to focus on as he moves gently— so, so gently. Keeping you present.

“Use those words, sweet girl. Talk to me.”

Water fills your eyes as you grip, nails biting into the meat of his sides as he fucks you slow and sweet. Heat burns through you, tiny sounds, choked sobs scratch at the back of your throat, but it’s good— feels so good. Your legs push up and around his waist, hands start to snake up his sinewy back, feeling the muscles flex and tighten as he makes you a woman— makes you his.

Safe. Warm. Cocooned between his heavy body and the light mattress. Hips rolling, pushing and pulling. Hot breath over hot skin. Quick, jumbled words, thick and ripe with a heady lust. You like being his smart girl. Gripping fingers, around your face, your wrists, your tits, hips, thighs, ankles— everywhere you could possibly imagine.

Andy flips you over suddenly, his back now pressed into the mattress as you lay on top of him. He positions you right where he wants you— sitting you up straight, positioning your hands against his brawny chest. He encases your waist with those massive hands, squeezing tight before the pads of his fingers drag along your thighs as you wiggle, getting used to the new position.

“Push up— that’s right, sweetheart,” he sighs softly as you follow his direction, “Now sit back down— slowly, baby, go slow.” His head falls back on the pillows as he exhales, a groan trembling through his chest, “God, yeah babe. Good girl. Up and down, up and down.”

Your fingers push through the tuft of soft, dark hair covering his chest as you ride him, lifting and sitting, rolling and bucking as you get a hang of it— catch a feel— your clit rubbing against his taut skin. You feel Andy trying to keep his composure, feel him trying to restrain himself, his hips. Watch his eyes flutter and close as his mouth goes slack again as he pushes up into you, meeting your increasingly greedy thrusts downward.

“I’m your smart girl,” you whisper, heart beating hard and fast in your chest as your confidence grows, “I’ve always wanted to be your smart girl.”

He jams up into you, much harder than anything you’ve felt so far.

A sharp yelp cracks into the silence and he grabs your wrists, runs his hands up your arms, before he cups your face, “Shhh, shhh, shhh, I’m sorry baby. I didn’t know it was gonna sound so sweet,” he laughs, “God, I fucking love hearing you say that.”

He drops a hand back to your chest, grabbing a handful of your tit, toying with your nipple, pinching and pulling. His other hand wraps around your hip again, helping to pull you forward, as he thrusts soft. You don’t move; you just let him fuck up into you, grab his hands and thread your fingers with his as you bounce.

Thrusts get faster; hips hurried, jabbing. Wet rasps fill the room, octaves soaring. You fall forward a little, unclasping his hands to catch yourself against his chest. Andy’s hands are back around your waist and hips as you fuck down onto him, chasing that little, dull ache in the pit of your stomach that grows with each push of his hips.

Andy has two full handfuls of your ass, growling loud, hips faltering— losing control as he forces you down on him. You take each hard thrust, tears spilling down your cheeks, pleasure and pain all wrapped up into one. Sweat and heat crawls along your skin, stomach goes tight, throat dries. You dig your fingers into his chest as your toes curl, whimpering and crying out, choking as the pressure builds.

You tighten— freeze quick, gasp hard as a white hot orgasm floods your veins, like a molten lava, oozing, spreading. Flattening yourself to Andy’s chest, you let him wrap his arms around your back and hold you tight as he fucks you through it. The meat of his thighs slapping against yours, your cunt sounding wet and filthy, squelching and convulsing as you come.

There’s another heat, quick and dense, filling you as Andy’s grunts grow deeper. His grip on your ass tightens as he spurts— your used cunt coaxing long, hot ribbons of white silk from his sensitive, red cock head. He falls out of you, dick wet and hard, pushing through your ass cheeks as his hips still churn out of habit and inherent instinct.

Hands are on your head, fingers wiping at your face and forehead, pushing hair away. You’re embarrassed— not sure why— and nuzzle into his neck, hiding your face as you tuck your hands into your chest protectively. Another laugh sounds from him, vibrates through you, as he kisses your forehead and rubs his bearded cheek against your face.

“You’re a sweet girl,” honeyed, his voice, smooth and sweet, slow drags of his hands up and down your back lulling you, calming you, suddenly nervous, “My sweet, smart little baby. You okay?” you nod, but it isn’t good enough, “Tell me.”

“I’m okay.” You sniffle, eyelashes clumped, cheeks wet, lips swollen and red.

You nuzzle into him more, taking a deep breath as you listen to his heartbeat. Another silence fills the room, Andy’s breaths soon turn deep, slow and rhythmic, his hands and fingers coming to a slow stop but still splayed out over your back. A quick press of your lips against his neck makes him shift, but doesn’t wake him. You press another on his chin before you settle down into him once more, watching as snow starts to fall again.

There’s a Christmas present sitting at the edge of the bed when you wake the next morning, your name scrawled out on the name tag. You tear into it, pulling out a small white box, the name LELO embossed over the top. Eyebrows firmly furrowed, you turn it over in your hand, mouth falling open as you read the description and eye the two twenty karat gold Ben Wa beads.

Andy appears in the doorway, a steaming cup in his hand, a smile on his face, “Merry Christmas. Santa came for you, huh?”

“Merry Christmas,” you glance away, “I don’t have anything for you.”

“That’s okay,” he shrugs, “I was a bit presumptuous after our little rendezvous in the kitchen— ordered those from Amazon yesterday.” He pads towards you, leaning down to kiss you quick before he hands you the hot mug, “Are you okay?”

A nervous giggle escapes through your lips, your head falling as you cover your mouth with your hand, “Mmhmm.”

Andy tips your head back upwards, pushing his index finger underneath your chin, smiling again before he kisses you all sweet and soft and slow, making you go all stupid and gooey again.

“What are these for?” You ask after he pulls away a few moments later.

His eyes twinkle in the sunlight as he winks, “Training. Now, lay back and spread your legs for daddy, little one.”

#andy barber #andy barber x black!reader #andy barber x reader #andy barber x you #andy barber smut #defending jacob #defending jacob fanfiction #defending jacob smut #avintagekiss24

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spikesbimbo · 3 years

Text

Three's trouble

Pairing: suna x reader x atsumu

Tags: face fucking, praise, dirty talk, threesome, exhibitionism at first, teasing, choking, oral sex, finger sucking, idk reader has an oral fixation, lowkey eiffel tower, spit/drool, crying, spanking, daddy!suna, masturbation

wc: 1.8k

a/n: Feeding yall until my dilf fics come out. Iowkey insp by this

Minors dni 18+

“C’mon lemme touch her...please rinnie” He teased, copying you, knowing all you had to do was bat your eyelashes and mumble those words and you'd get what you wanted.

“Call me that shit again and i'll kick you out.” suna said. Freezing in place, dick almost going soft after those words. Lucky your pretty face drooling all over his cock brought him back.

“Go ahead...” he sighed, knowing this was gonna happen after he ‘invited’ him to watch yall fuck after he walked in on you two, knowing he was insatiable as you, and that stroking his cock wasn't enough.

“I-, you sure…?” he asked. “This okay with you, hmm?” Only caring what your answer was, knowing your boyfriend would go along with it if it made you happy.

“Dont get me wrong its hot as fuck, been dreaming about this for so long, but...” He continued waiting for you to put out an answer, an opening as you responded by breaking your head from sunas cock enough for you to mumble a soft, sweet “yeah”. Expression hidden as your boyfriend drags you back onto him, greed overriding him, wanting to be only one to see your face like this.

Physically responding by arching your back more, rocking your hips as the friction of the air wasn't enough, humming out while your lips were wrapped around his cock once again, nodding your consent again as suna wrapped his hand around your head, leaning back with a groan.

“Fuck baby.” he muttered out. Pride rising in your chest, taking all of him like a good girl. His tip hitting the back of your throat, hands sneaking up his thighs to grab his balls in between your fingers.

“Don't be rough at first, she doesn't like that.” he said, eyes half closed watching his every movement, looking at your body and expression for any signs of discomfort.

“Got it, got it. Don't worry.” He complained, placing himself behind you. “You're acting like i've never touched a girl before.”

“Wouldn't doubt it.” he said under his breath. Turning his vision back to you, stroking your cheek as his face was getting more tinted by the second.

“Hey!”

You let out a whine, needy moans getting their well-needed attention back on you. Body feeling so neglected as tears started forming in your eyes, your boyfriend quickly calming you down.

“shh baby s’okay, ignore him. Just keep all your attention on me.” He cooed cupping your jaw, distracting you by doing the work for you, bobbing your head up and down with his hand on the back of your head.

Your noises getting higher and higher as atsumu moved his hand to your cunt, sliding his fingers down your slit up and down a few times before stopping to rub your clit. Sliding his finger in, so tight but you gave way so easy, curling his finger pushing the build up of slick out of you, dripping onto the floor beneath you.

“So fucking pretty.” he mumbled out, barely getting the words out before he put his lips on your thighs, placing harsh open mouthed kisses on them. Squirming at the feeling, suna’s hands locking you in place while his hands were grabbing your ass, fingers digging into the flesh as he spread you open. “So wet, wanna taste you.”

Moaning at the words, all shame leaving your body as you presented yourself more, just wanting to feel good already, hearing a chuckle followed by a slight smack landing on you. The shock, letting out a cry laced with pleasure, disconnecting your mouth from him, a gasp of “tsumu” falling from your lips, face contorting with embarrassment as your body does the same.

“You like it pretty girl? You like when your daddy spanks you when you're being bad, hmm?”

Tears pooling in your eyes as the words left his mouth. “Aww, sweetheart. You love when he makes you cry like that, what an angel.”

His hand comes down onto your skin again, jumping at the contact, ashamedly getting you wetter and wetter. ”Fuck, you get this everynight? Lucky bitch.”:

Suna just chuckled, loving how you caught everyone's attention but at the end of the day you were his, no matter who touched you. Every nerve ending was tensing up as he entered you, his hips slowly meeting your ass at first. Watching himself slide in and out of you as he started to move, shallow strokes turning into deeper ones. “God damn baby, your tiny little cunt’s already swallowing me up.” thrusting into you harder and faster, cries leaving your throat as you already made a mess.

“Fuck baby, you already cum?...”Poor little thing, should've known that when i walked in on you creaming just from your daddy playing with your little cunt.”

“C-cause you were teasing me” you softly sobbed out in protest, needing him to move or you would breakdown.

“Was I? M’sorry pretty girl, dont worry ill make you feel good.” Hearing his grunts as you clenched, not stopping but getting rougher. Thrusting into you as his balls were hitting your sensitive clit, walls throbbing around him as you cried out incoherent words.

Watching himself slide in and out of your tiny little cunt as he starts to move, slow and shallow strokes sliding into deeper ones. “You’re just fucking swallowing me up, fuck.”

“D-daddy” escaping from your lips in a moan, as his hand was wrapped around your neck, forcing you to look your wet sloppy face in his eyes as you were getting fucked. You blurry vision making out his deadpan face, but you felt his gaze on your body, ass bouncing after every thrust, only being held up by him.

“Daddy?” tsumu questioned, his grip on your hips growing tighter, letting out a little squeal as his thrusts get shakier. “Fuck, youre so lucky.”

Suna just chuckled, knowing what he had, making sure you knew it too. Tsumu leaning back against your body watching you catch his thrusts halfway. Hips rolling, gasps barely having time to escape before they’re knocked out of you again.

Your boyfriend not being able to fight the groans that spill out of his mouth, thumb swiping over your lips, smearing his cum and spit there. Rocking his hips back into your mouth, eyes hooded watching tsumu make you crumble and cry under him.

“He making you feel good baby?” he asked. Whimpering at the way he’s grabbing your jaw, already so sore. “C’mon, be a good girl and tell daddy.”

Being patient with you was one of his specialties, letting you take all the time you needed, eyes focused on you waiting for you to be a big girl and use your words.

“Y-yea, rinnie.” you stuttered out, voice displaced by his thrusts.

“Good girl.”

The way he's speaking to you, so sweet and soft, but so dominant at the same time. Kissing you on the forehead before moving down to your lips. Wet eyes being rubbed by his finger as his other hand is stroking his cock.

Tsumu’s moans are background noise as you drag your tongue down his hand, grabbing it with the hand that isn’t currently on his dick, wrapping your lips around his digits. Not reacting besides letting you do what you want, as usual; breath hitching as you take it down to his knuckle.

“Fuck,” tsumu groaned, flicking his hips up into yours, getting off to the both of you looking like the sight of a porn clip in front of him.

“daddy, i-, im gonna” you whimpered, lips hovering over sunas, a line of spit connecting you two, how romantic. Your sentence not finishing as he dragged you back into a kiss, sloppy and messy, all while tsumu is bruising your cervix, the pain dulling at this point.

“Yeah baby, you gonna cum on my cock? Already doing such a good job.” he said, trying to look back at him before suna grabs your head again, looking into your red teary eyes as you pant out. Dry mouth open as he’s fucking your fist, rocking into you like you were a toy.

“You gonna be a good girl and take it? Gonna be a good girl?” he muttered out, sliding his flushed cock back into your drool covered mouth.

“Our good girl.”

Suna rolls his eyes as he cups your face again, spit sliding down it as he pushed it in, not wanting to cum again after looking down into your spaced out eyes. The sound of his balls slapping your chin, obscure words leaving his mouth as your nose was now at his crotch.

The pain of your dry lips growing, the ache in your jaw only adding onto it but you were gonna make him finish. Hiccupping out whimpers as astumu gets rougher, picking up the pace.

The sound of your wetness leaking onto his thighs and balls, every slap sounding lewd as possible the vibrations coming from your mouth is enough to have suna shove himself down your throat more, fucking you there until he cums down it.

A dazed smile appearing on your face as you licks up what slipping between your lips, looking like hes about to pass out at the sight of your lips licking it off of him, leaning his head back as the thinks hes about to blow again.

Another moan leaves your lips as you feel so close to your climax, not having anyone to pay attention to anymore but yourself as you feel your orgasm building up. Selfishly moving your boyfriends dirty hands to you, already catching your drift as he starts lazily rubbing your clit almost instantly making you cum.

Atumu chasing his as soon as he feels yours, rolling his hips deeper as he pushes your back in an arch. Seeing black for a minute as he lets himself go. Getting faster, hips stuttering as your body is limp under him resting on suna. Sobbing at the overstimulation as he continues to abuse your poor cunt as he drains his balls dry, making the most of his orgasm.

Mind going bank, not even realizing that he pulled out of you, and that you were laying in your boyfriends arms. Wrapped in the thin sheets, him coming down from a high just as much as you.

“You good, baby?” suna whispered, wrapping his arm around you kissing beneath your ear as he rubbed your back. Nodding as you dozed off into him, sleepiness overtaking you at the feeling of being in his hold as you did every night.

“ So…” Atsumu started breaking the silence, suna already giving him a side eye, not wanting to wake up your pretty face squished into his shoulder. “Maybe ne-”

“No.”

2K notes · View notes

zodiakuroo · 3 years

Text

Pretty Things Don’t Need To Think

Kuroo decides he's had enough of his smart, independent girlfriend. He wants her to be his good little housewife instead.

Pairing: Kuroo Tetsurou x Fem!Reader

Contains: 18+ oh boy... dubcon, big dick kuroo, dumbifciation, misogyny, manhandling, oral sex (deepthroating), pee in vee sex, degradation, manipulation, pwp, breath play, mouth spitting, creampie, thigh riding, slapping, spit, porn watching, crybaby reader but kuroo is a meanie so :3

Word count: 4.6k

Notes: my first time writing smut n it’s mindlessly self-indulgent i just had this weirdly specific fantasy that i need to get out byeee

Kuroo loved the fact that you were smart. He loved the fact that you could debate and argue with him for hours on the most obscure topics. He love that you were always interested in his nerdy rambles and he found it adorable that you would sometimes go off on your own nerdy rambles. When he met you, he was so used to fucking brainless bimbos that he was surprised to find a girl that he both wanted to sleep with and have a conversation with. Your intellect was one of the many reasons he wanted to pursue a relationship with you beyond sex. One of the many reasons why he planned on marrying you.

Kuroo also loathed the fact that you were smart. Not loathed exactly. He just hated your stupid fucking degree. He hated the fact that it demanded so much of your time and energy that you sometimes had to put your studies before him. You wanted to be doctor, always wanted to apparently. You wanted it so bad he felt a little ashamed for how much it annoyed him.

But he didn’t understand it. You were going to be the wife of Kuroo Tetsurou, President of the Japan Volleyball Association. Is that not enough of an achievement?

You didn’t seem to think so.

Now Kuroo’s not a misogynist by any means. If he were, he wouldn’t even let you get this stupid degree. He doesn’t want you to be some mindless Stepford Wife who only cooks and cleans and says “Yes, dear” “No, dear.” Of course he believes in equal rights and all that bullshit but he just doesn’t see any reason for you to work. Financially, there’s no need. More importantly, as his wife you would be too busy taking care of him, his home and his children for you to even thinking about having a job. He would let you get this degree purely for you to soothe your own ego, so you could feel like you’ve accomplished something.

And this is the fucking thanks he gets.

Coming home every day to see you hunched over the dining room table, 4 different textbooks open, papers scattered everywhere. He works hard every day to make a comfortable life for the two of you but asking to come home to a clean apartment and dinner on the stove is too much to ask apparently.

You don’t even register that he’s in the room until he places two large warm hands on your shoulders, causing you to jump, quickly soothed with a kiss to the top of your head.

“Hi baby” he mutters against your scalp, gently massaging your shoulders.

“Hmm. Hi Tetsurou.” you turn your head to look at him, eyes bloodshot and bleary from staring at your computer all day. “How was your day?”

“Same old.” He places a chaste kiss on your lips. “How’s it going here? Are we winning?” He glances at your notes, Intercranial mass lesions. Subarachnoid Haemorrhage. Spontaneous Intracerebral Haemorrhage. He wonders why you do this to yourself. Pretty things like you shouldn’t have to think.

You groan. “Not at all. This neuro final is gonna kick my ass.”

He chuckles, hands gently massaging your shoulders. “You say that every time and every time you ace it baby.” Instead of asking you where his dinner is, he asks “Have you eaten today? What do you want for dinner?”

“ I’m not hungry Tetsu. You can order whatever you like.” He clenches his jaw in irritation. You can’t even be bothered to give him your full attention for 10 minutes? The man who works so hard so that you can afford to sit at home and study the whole day?

No.

He’ll get your attention one way or another.

“Angel,” he drops his voice an octave or two, leaning down so his mouth is pressed right against the shell of your ear. “How about you take a break yeah? Wanna help you relax.” He starts to kiss your neck. He hears your breath hitch. He’s got you. “You worked so hard today plus I reaaaaally miss you.”

With that he begins to leave wet kisses on your neck, feeling you melt into him. His hands move away from your shoulders, gently groping at your chest.

You suddenly go rigid. “Tetsu, not right now.” He doesn’t want you to know how pissed he is but he can’t help it, he groans in frustration. “I’m sorry,” you mutter weakly “I really need to get through these last 3 chapters.”

“Yeah right. Got it.” He storms off with a huff. He’s furious. Your little studious shtick has been nothing more than an irritation for him. But this is too far. He hasn’t come in a month, since you started prep for finals. You’ve been too busy to take care of him. You suggested porn and he laughed in your face. Why would he jerk off when you have a perfectly good pussy? Don’t be ridiculous.

“Tetsurou don’t be mad please.”

“Not mad baby. Keep studying. That’s important to you right?” He’s not convincing anyone but you don’t have the time or energy to engage.

You let out a heavy sigh before turning back to your laptop, falling back into studying like the whole interaction never happened. It made him even angrier. How you couldn’t care less about him right now.

“Just gonna watch some TV. That okay with you, love?” He says sounding sickly sweet, almost sarcastic. If you notice, you don’t make any mention of it.

“Mmhm. Just keep it down please.” You don’t even bother to fucking look at him.

You don’t wanna pay attention to him? You want him to just jerk off? Fine then, have it your way. Kuroo throws himself down on the couch as he rips off his tie with a little more force than necessary.

This is petty.

He makes quick work of the buttons of his dress shirt.

This is childish.

He quickly unbuckles his belt and pulls his slacks down just far enough to take his soft dick out of his boxers.

This is your fault.

You pushed him to do this.

He takes his phone and uses his internet browser to take him to the first porn site he can think of. He doesn’t really care about the kind of video so “Busty blonde slut gets destroyed” seems like a good a choice as any. He clicks on the video and sets up his phone to mirror on the TV screen. With the volume about as loud as it can go, he presses play.

The loud exaggerated moans and gagging startle you. Your head shoots up and you see your boyfriend, lidded gaze fixed on the flat screen TV in front of him. He’s panting, letting out little moans. You crane your neck to see what he’s watching and you see on the TV a bleach blonde girl with massive tits being an absolute trooper as she gets facefucked relentlessly.

“Kuroo, what the fuck?” God he hates when you call him by his last name mostly because you only do that when you’re really annoyed at him.

“Hm? What is it baby?” Now it’s his turn to not even glance in your direction. He’s too focused on the way the girl on screen’s throat is bulging as the man thrusts into her mouth. Maybe he should watch porn more often.

“What are you doing?” He can hear the irritation building in your voice. He hears the chair scrape along the hardwood floor as you stand up to get a better look at him. He knows you can see exactly what he’s doing now.

He smirks, turning to look at you for just a split second before his attention is back to being on screen. “Watching ah fuck watching TV”. He starts to stroke himself faster now, knowing you’re watching him. He’s a little embarrassed by how turned on he is. Cock already rock hard, his tip bright red and shiny from leaking so much pre-cum.

“Do you have to do… that… here? I can’t concentrate.” You clench your fists and your sides.

Oh you’re pissed. But this isn’t exactly the reaction he wants from. He’ll make it work though.

“Not my problem babe. Shit.” He takes his free hand down to play with his swollen balls and god, if he weren’t so determined to dump this load inside you he might have come right then and there.

“Kuroo!” You shout. He’s still not looking at you. How could he when the girl on the screen is getting absolutely railed. He only hears the sound of your barefeet on the hardwood floor as you storm over to the couch. He’s not sure what your plan was when you decided to come over here, but it doesn’t even matter anymore because the second you’re close enough he yanks you by your wrist and forces you into his lap.

“Tetsu!” You thrash and struggle in his hold but it’s no use. He’s bigger and stronger than you.

He wraps his arm around your neck, pulling you into a chokehold. “Oh I’m Tetsu now?” he laughs bitterly

“Let me go! Please!” You still haven’t given up getting out of this, tears threatening to spill from your eyes.

“Shut up. I want you to watch this.” He’s forcing you to look at the screen now. “Look at that yeah? Look at how she’s taking that big cock.”

A hard palm strikes you across your cheek. “Stop squirming and watch.”

The blonde woman is bent over a coffee table while the man behind her rams his dick into her without abandon. Kuroo can’t decide if he finds her whining hot or annoying.

“Looks like it feels good huh babe?” His head is buried in the crook of your neck. “Wanna make you feel good like that.” He places a quick kiss to your temple before pulling your t-shirt over your head, your bare chest now exposed to the cool air.

“Tetsu please.”

“Please what baby?”

Please let me go.

But the way he’s hands are gripping at your breasts, pulling and twisting your nipples, you can’t form any words. Only whimpers.

“Please make you feel good? That what you want baby?” He whispers as he slots his thigh between your legs.

“Yeah yeah please Tetsu.”

Kuroo has turned his focus onto your neck. Harsh sucks, leaving bruises and bite marks in his wake. He wants to laugh at how pathetic you are. Just a few minutes ago, you were adamant on ignoring his presence and now you’re writhing in his lap begging you to touch him.

“Really? I thought you needed to study.”

“No no no Tetsu, only need you.” Just a quickie. You’re both pent up. 10… 15 minutes tops. Then you’ll go back to studying. That’s what you tell yourself.

“That’s right baby.” He grips your hips and grinds you down on to his thigh. “I know exactly what you need.” You take your cue from him and begin riding his thigh, neurology notes long forgotten as he goes back to assaulting your neck. The combination of the sensation of your clothed clit rubbing against his thigh and visual stimulation of the explicit content on your TV makes you dizzy with pleasure.

Your movements become frantic. You’re practically humping his leg at this point. He knows you’re close which is why he wraps one arm around your torso, pulling you back into his chest.

“Baby please.” You whine. Oh, you’re really crying now.

“Oh angel, you were gonna come just from that? Just from humping my thigh and watching some other bitch get eaten out? My angel must be so pent up huh?”

You can’t do anything except whimper and nod.

“Mmhm yeah my baby has been working too hard. Thinking too much. You’re too cute for that you know baby.”

You keep nodding, no idea what you’re actually agreeing to, too busy keening at the praise. You keep trying to move your hips but he just tightens his hold.

“It’s okay though baby I know how to take care of you. Your man knows how to turn off that little brain of yours.”

His hand slides into you shorts, fingers pressing on to your clit over the top of your soaked panties. The moan you let out might rival the porn star on screen, who now by the way, is riding the face of her co-star while she sucks his cock.

He slips his other hand into your panties and starts rubbing quick “Yeah that’s it. Feel good babe?” You melt into his chest. “Yes Tetsu! So good!”

Kuroo pushes his long middle finger into your dripping hole. So tight and warm, he has to bite back a moan of his own. A few slow pumps, before he lets his index finger enter you as well. He’s done going slow now, he starts fucking you with his fingers, thumb brushing over your clit every now and then.

You were so close before, it takes almost no effort on Kuroo’s part to get you there again. You throw your head back on to his shoulder, muscles tensing in anticipation of your impending release. “Tets- gonna cum, gonna cu-“ The second you feel the waves of your orgasm crash on to you, Kuroo has his hands off you entirely, reaching for the remote and turning off the explicit movie.

Ruined. He ruined your orgasm.

You open your eyes and you see Kuroo looking every bit the smug bastard and your own teary eyed reflection in the black screen. “Tetsurou… Why? Why would you-“ You can’t even get the sentence out before he delivers a harsh smack to your clit.

“You think you deserve to come?” A large hand wraps tight around your throat as he lets out a humourless laugh. “You’re stupider than I thought.”

“No Tetsu ‘m not stupid” You manage to rasp out but that just makes him squeeze even tighter.

“What was that? I thought I heard a stupid bitch say something.”

You claw at his had trying to get air into your lungs but Kuroo doesn’t budge.

“Please! Sorry! Please!” is all you can manage to get out. Just as you start to see spots, Kuroo lets go.

Airways burning, you sputter out a “thank you” but your boyfriend doesn’t seem to care. “You’re sorry? Show me how fucking sorry you are.” He’s shoves you on to the floor unceremoniously.

While Kuroo removes his slacks and boxers, you try to compose yourself. You know what’s coming but first you need to stop coughing and stop crying. After a minute of deep breathing, you open your eyes and find yourself face to face with Kuroo’s monster cock.

And you’re not exaggerating. The thing is terrifying. Long and girthy, the biggest you’ve ever seen. He’s unbelievably hard with bulging veins, the tip almost purple with arousal. You’re mesmerised by it.

Perhaps the only thing scarier than his dick right now is the man attached to it. He’s staring down at you with so much condescension, small smirk playing on his lips. He wraps his hand around his thick base. “You good princess? Get to it.” He tuts.

You place one of your hands on his throbbing member as you tentatively stick out your tongue to lick at his tip where pre-cum is dribbling out. You slowly start to stroke him up and down as you swirl your tongue around the head. Kuroo is being kind, letting you go slow. If you think he’s doing this for your benefit, you’re mistaken. He wants to take his time with this. More importantly, he’s got about a month’s worth of cum stored up in his balls and he wants to make sure that every single drop goes inside your little cunt.

You take what you can fit (just less than half) into your mouth, lips stretched wide around his dick, the head is poking at the back of your throat while your hands work the rest of his shaft. You look up at him with wide, apologetic eyes. He can tell by the way you’re looking at him you want him to know how sorry you are.

It’s cute.

He grabs you by your hair and pulls you off of him. ”Aw baby, that’s it? I thought you were sorry.”

A mixture of saliva and pre-cum dribbles down your chin. “Tetsu I am sorry. I’m so sorry!” You whimper.

“Yeah?” Kuroo whispers. His grip on your hair tightens as he tilts your head up to look at him. You stare up at your boyfriend, as he bends down to kiss you. Again, it’s surprisingly gentle but is quickly contrasted with the way he uses the other hand to grab your face, squeezing harshly to make you pucker your lips and keep your mouth open.

He smiles down at you, almost lovingly before he puckers his lips as well, letting a fat glob of spit drop from his mouth into yours.

It’s gross. It’s degrading. It’s cruel.

And that’s why you swallow it down almost immediately, without being asked.

“Good girl” He whispers and gives you a kiss on the nose as a reward. The simple praise shoots straight to your pussy and now you’re greedy for more.

Kuroo leans back and assumes his previous position but this time flexing his elbows and putting his hands behind his head. He’s still wearing his dress shirt, unbuttoned so you can admire his delicious torso. Toned and tanned with the trail of dark hair running all the way to his groin. He looks completely relaxed with his eyes closed and for a moment you find yourself enamored by how stunning he is. How stunning your man is. You want to please him now more than ever. You want him to call you his good girl again. You steady yourself on your knees and prepare for the task at hand

You start off with a few shallow bobs on his cock. Then you take a deep breath through your nose before taking as much of him in your throat as you can. “Holy shit.” He breathes out. His hips thrust up reflexively while you try to suppress your own reflex, trying to keep him has deep as possible for as long as possible. You’ve had lots of practice deepthroating your boyfriend’s dick but somehow it hasn’t gotten any easier.

You pull off of him but not completely, just enough to open up your airway to let much needed air into your burning lungs. You twist your hands around the exposed part of him. You look up at him and he’s giving you that fond smile again and it makes your heart swell in your chest. It’s all the motivation you need to take him back into your throat. Again you take him as far as you can but there’s still a good inch or so that you can’t take no matter how hard you try.

“Aw baby you need some help?” Kuroo coos from above you. You look up at him with big watery eyes and nod as best you can with his dick lodged in your oesophagus. He lets out a hum. “Anything for my baby.” He places one of his large hands on the back of your head and pushes you down until your nose meets his pelvis.

Your throat muscles are spasming around the impossibly large, impossibly deep intrusion but Kuroo keeps you there, seemingly reveling in your gags. Your drool dribbles from your lips, down his balls on to the black leather of the couch. You try breathing through your nose but you struggle. However, your discomfort is completely eclipsed by Kuroo’s moans and grunts. If it makes him feel good you’ll keep him in there as long as he wants. You’ll let him thrust into your mouth until he comes if he so choses.

Lucky for you, that’s not what he wants tonight.

You pulls you off his dick by once again but slowly this time. He watches the string of drool that connects your lips and drags you away until it snaps. He take his heavy shaft and slaps it against your right cheek. You let out a gasp and a smirk starts to play on his lips. Before you know it he’s smacking and dragging his cock all over your face, covering you in a mixture of your saliva and his pre-cum. “God damn. Prettiest fuckin’ girl in the world right here on her knees for me.” He says as he leans back to admire his handiwork. “Open” he says. You obey without hesitation and he spits in your mouth again.

You swallow eagerly. “Thank you Tetsuro.” Your throat feels raw but you smile at him, absolutely giddy, nonetheless.

“Get up here, pretty girl.” Kuroo helps you to your feet and shimmy out of your bottoms before guiding you on to his lap so you’re straddling him. Immediately two of his fingers are inside you again, your slick cunt offering no resistance whatsoever. “You know angel, I’m still not sure how sorry you actually are.” He’s scissoring his fingers, stretching out your walls. If he were a different man, he’d thrust into you right now without any prep but he sees how fucked out you already are, there’s no need to punish you any further. His fingers move at a tortuous pace, squelching as he thrusts them in and out of you.

You’re panting. “Anything, I’ll do anything.”

The slow drag of his fingers grazing that spot inside you as he pulls out makes your eyes flutter shut. When you open them again, Kuroo is holding the same fingers in front of your face. Your boyfriend keeps is hazel eyes locked on yours as he sticks out his tongue to lick up the arousal soaking his digits.

“Hmm ‘course you will.” He slaps his fat cockhead on your sensitive clit making you squeal.

He drags his tip from your clit to your dripping slit over and over again getting it nice and wet.

You chant “Tetsu please” like some twisted prayer. You desperately want to make up for your earlier ruined orgasm.

“Wanna see you bounce on my cock, angel.”

You oblige him wordlessly, taking hold of his shaft and lining in him up with your entrance. You slowly lower yourself on to him wincing at the way he stretches you out. The prep was minimal and his fingers are no match for the size of his cock. You have to stop to breathe and blink away tears. You lift up your hips and lower yourself down slowly again, taking a little more of him inside you. You repeat the process a couple more times.

As much as watching your struggle to take his cock strokes his ego, Kuroo is growing bored. It’s time to take matters into his own hands.

Kuroo grips your hips and takes you by surprise as he thrusts up into you, making you take the whole thing. You let out a shrill cry as the tip of his cock nudges at your cervix. A heavy smack lands on your ass. “I said bounce angel.”

“So big Tetsu fuck. So big.” You whine as he pulls you up, before he sheaths his dick fully inside you, making you shriek for a second time.

God you could be such a crybaby sometimes. You were starting to piss him off again. He pulls out of you completely and says “Turn around.”

“Tetsu no please! Wanna see you.” You pout, your eyes welling up with tears.

Another smack. This time across your face. You reach up to touch the sore skin on your cheek, it feels hot. “Don’t talk back to me you stupid slut.”

You whimper but obey his command. You don’t want Kuroo to be angry at you.

“Now sit on it.” He spanks you another time before gripping your ass and guiding his cock into you until your ass meets his groin.

Playtime is over.

Kuroo slips his hands under your thighs, grabbing the back of your knees and folding your body in half. Now he’s really fucking you. His thrusts are rough, cock knocking against your cervix repeatedly as he sinks himself into your sopping cunt over and over again. The sound of his balls slapping against your ass and the squelching of your dripping pussy make for the lewdest symphony you’ve ever heard.

“Tetsurou ‘m close. Please” you cry. The way his dick is rubbing against your sweet spot means you won’t last long.

“No.”

Despite his denial, he doesn’t ease up on his thrusts. You’re trying to concentrate on holding back your orgasm but honestly you can’t concentrate on anything except Kuroo pistoning his fat cock in and out of you.

“Look at you.” You see your reflection in the black TV screen. “You see that?” He gives one particularly hard thrust to emphasise his point. “Fucked stupid huh?”

“Yeah Tetsu Yeah.” It’s no mirror but you can see all that you need to. You see your boyfriend using your body like a fleshlight, thrusting up into you at a relentless pace. You see your cunt split open on his cock. You see yourself being completely and utterly owned by him.

“My girl is such a fucking whore huh? My own personal porn star.”

“Need to cum nnggh let me cum please.” You’re teetering so close to the edge and Kuroo’s filthy mouth is not helping your situation in the slightest.

“Why should I let you cum hm? You’re so good when you’re desperate. Think I should keep you like this.”

“Please Tetsu. Please. Wanna be good! Wanna be your good girl Testu! Wanna take care of you! Please.”

He likes the way that sounds.

His good girl. His wife. His. His. His.

“Cum for me angel. Cum. Right now.” He says, lips pressed against your ear.

He doesn’t need to tell you twice. With the way he’s pounding his dick into your tight little pussy you have no choice but to spiral into orgasm. Your pussy spasms around his cock, pulling him deeper inside you. The hot coil in your tummy that’s been building unravels and the bliss hits you so hard you see starts. Kuroo keeps fucking up into you as you cream around him. As you come down, you go limp in his arms. That doesn’t stop him from using you though.

His grip around your thighs tightens and that’s how you know he’s getting close. “You gonna be a good girl for me? You gonna take this fat fucking load? Yeah? Take all of it deep in your cunt?” He growls right into your ear.

“Tetsu gimme pleasepleaseplease” You beg him as you cry from overstimulation, barely able to form the words.

“Take it. Take it. Fuck!” He growls as he shoots his load right into your tight, gooey pussy. You feel his hot cum fill up your womb and the sensation is so overwhelming it makes you go cross-eyed, tongue lolling out of your mouth. He grunts, still rutting into you through his orgasm. When he’s done he pulls out of you, smiling as he watches his cum leak out of your spent hole.

Kuroo loves the fact that you’re smart. But when you’re like this? Absolutely cum drunk, eyes glazed, body covered in bruises and willing to do anything he asks you to? He fucking adores you like this.

“Go take care of dinner princess, then your man is gonna take care of you some more.” He swats you on your ass.

You giggle and let your wobbly legs carry you to the kitchen with your boyfriend’s cum running down between your thighs, thoughts of your upcoming final completely fucked out of your head.

Along with every other thought not revolving around your future husband.

Kuroo reaches for his phone to text his assistant and tell her to cancel all his meetings for tomorrow. He has to go ring shopping.

#haikyū!!#haikyuu!!#hq x you #haikyu x reader #kuroo x you #kuroo imagine #kuroo smut #kuroo tetsuro x reader #hq smut #dark fic #tw dubcon #tw dumbification #tw breath play #tw manipulation #tw manhandling #tw degradation #tw slapping #tw spitting

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omniscientwreck · 3 years

Note

Let me combine both of your favorite things! I would love a little thing about Caduceus (in his infinite wisdom and questionable intelligence) trying to give either Essek or Caleb relationship advice that may or may not be actually helpful. Those two wizards are probably too much in their own heads to see what's right in front of them and could use a little nudge. Just imagine both of them going to Caduceus for advice on how they're attracted to the other and Caduceus just sitting there trying to fight to urge to facepalm.

Hello! Thank you for combining my two favourite things into this fic that took way too long but I'm quite pleased with! I hope you enjoy!

In which Caduceus has three conversations with two wizards fighting against a force bigger than either of them.

----------

The first of these conversations Caduceus had was expected. Gardening alongside Essek, teaching him how to sow beauty where destruction had laid waste had been therapeutic for both of them. Caduceus had never given up on the war criminal. It’s difficult to feel no sympathy for someone whose story was written across their face in blank but pleasant stares and a mask of platitudes.

The state he’d been in when they met him at the outpost had filled Caduceus with determination. He’d been as close to a wreck as they’d ever seen him and now kneeling alongside him and looking over to see a small self-satisfied smile as he observed the work they’d done, it feels like they’ve done something right. This second chance had been well earned and he has faith that Essek will continue to earn it for the rest of his days.

This Essek is determined to right wrongs, and he’s started with the garden. He pays careful attention to the plants, always asking if he’s unsure about the compatibility of certain species, and making sure to put them exactly where they tell him. When they work past the point when the sun disappears behind emerald leaves he takes off the gloves Jester had made him and digs his hands into the ground. It seems to bring him peace, it’s good that he’s found any.

Most of the time when they work it’s silent, creases pressed into Essek’s forehead. He sweats through the layers that serve to keep him safe from the heat overhead and always has to be cajoled into taking breaks or drinking water. It reminds him a bit of Yasha.

On the third day, when he’d nearly gone faint Caduceus has to intervene, “You don’t need to hurt yourself to repent you know.”

Essek takes great care to swallow and not choke on the water he’d been sipping, bad timing. The mask comes up again, “I don’t know what you mean.” he states flatly. He knows that Caduceus is smarter than that and it shows.

“Hurting yourself doesn’t change anything. It’s the creation of beauty here that tips your scales, not the destruction of yourself.”

He nods slowly, indigo eyes downcast. “I suppose you’re correct. I have much to atone for Caduceus. There is much work to be done before I will deserve any of the kindness you foist upon me.”

“Hey now, I decide who deserves my kindness. We all do.”

Essek nods again, running a dirt stained hand through his silver hair. It leaves streaks of dirt, Caduceus says nothing.

“It’s difficult to be made aware of your stark moral failings, to learn what it means to truly care for someone again. It’s difficult to care more than you expect and to know what is enough, if anything is.”

His eyes flick behind Caduceus, where he can hear Caleb explaining something to Luc and he understands more than Essek probably wants him to. “You’ll find enough.” Essek looks at him, eyes full of a delicate hope, easily shattered, “He’ll tell you when it’s enough.”

His eyes widen just slightly and a deep blush spreads across his face alongside a smile so small it’s like he doesn’t want to let himself accept the barrage of feelings it holds back. “If.” His voice is small but the weight is heavy in the tone.

Caduceus reaches a hand to cover one of his, “When. Remember, I see things the rest of you don’t.”

Essek smiles wryly at that, voice full of mirth, “Of course Mr. Clay the ever observing.”

They go in for dinner and Essek speaks up a little more, he’s a little more alive. The change is small, but Caduceus notices.

----------

The second conversation is less expected, completely unexpected if he’s being honest. Caleb arrives at the doorstep of the grove one evening around 8 months after they’d last seen each other. “Hallo friend, I hope I am not intruding.”

His smile is easier now, though still restrained by sadness. “Not at all Mr. Caleb you are always welcome here. There should be left overs from dinner, fix yourself a plate.”

Caleb allows himself to be ushered in and fussed over. He tells a few stories of the trial but Caduceus tries to steer away from that particular vein of conversation. It’s raw and it doesn’t look like he’s fully healed. There’s still one catch somewhere that he needs to loose himself from before the smile will be easy and free, before he can walk away from his past and toward the future.

“I am going to Aeor next.”

Ah.

When Caduceus doesn’t say anything he continues, voice laced with trepidation, “I am going to ask Essek to join me.” he wants Caduceus to convince him of something.

“Well, two wizards is better than one.” He eyes Caleb knowingly and the wizard squirms a bit under his gaze.

“It is just, a little strange isn’t it? The directions we are led in.” He trails off again, maybe he’s hoping for wisdom. Caduceus decides he can probably dispense something.

“You’ve never seemed like someone who wanted much to be herded into decisions to me.”

“It’s been a journey.”

Caduceus clears his dish and sets down a teapot, “It’s a journey you’re still on. One that might not have a definite end. Is it worth it to deny yourself happiness because you’re worried about whether you deserve it?”

That caught him a little off guard, copper hair shook a bit as he’d clearly gone a little further than Caleb was expecting. He likes to talk in metaphors so that he can hide from truths later, or at least pretend everything can have multiple meanings. It’s time for Caduceus to stop letting him twist words around in that expansive brain of his until the original meaning is obscured by hypotheticals.

“I cannot tell you what’s right Caleb, but if you came here for a reasonable perspective listen to the one I’m giving you.” He pours the tea and offers honey, “You will never know if you don’t go and I know you better than you think. You don’t like loose ends, not as long as there’s something to learn.”

He nods, staring into tea, they’re so similar and so stubborn that Caduceus can feel the loving annoyance usually directed at his siblings creeping in. “Caleb, stop punishing yourself for something that wasn’t your fault in the first place.” Caleb nearly interrupts but Caduceus keeps barrelling through, “Self-flagellation won’t get you anywhere, you’ll just end up with regrets and what ifs. Go explore Aeor, forget everything else for a bit. Do that thing the two of you do where you’re finishing each other’s sentences and nobody knows why you’re bothering to speak out loud because it’s obvious you’re thinking the same things.”

Caleb’s smile is smaller now, but lighter. “Ja mein Freunde, I think you will. Thank you for tolerating questions I don’t know how to ask out loud.”

Caduceus smiles back, “I think this will be good. If you need anything while you’re there don’t hesitate to reach out. Stock up on healing, you’ll need it.”

Caleb laughs at that and spends the night, before heading to Zadash the next morning, undoubtedly to clear out Pumat’s stock of healing potions.

----------

The third time this conversation is had it’s his fault. He doesn’t mean to start it, but honestly the situation is getting ridiculous and the sibling feelings Caduceus has to both the wizards are firmly cemented.

They decide to get everyone together maybe a year after the last conversation. It’s his first time seeing any of them since then and as soon as they’re all in the same room it’s like no time has passed at all. Essek had come to get him while Caleb gathered the rest at Beau and Yasha’s home in Rexxentrum. Jester wraps him in a crushing and loving hug, Beau gives him a punch that’s soft for her but still stings, Yasha offers clippings of flowers immediately, and Fjord’s hug is warm. Veth’s family is here and she looks happier than he’s ever seen her. Caleb greets him with the warmth that’s always burned behind eyes that hold less and less sorrow every time he sees him. He hopes they’ll drop it all together one day.

When they pop back into existence from the way Caleb and Essek look at each other Caduceus expects something to happen. He doesn’t know what exactly but they hold each other’s eyes in a profound way. There’s gravity to them and everyone can feel it, he’s getting tired of watching them fight it.

It seems so simple even though he doesn’t feel that kind of pull, to see where this is going. It’s feels like the days before a big storm, when everyone knows what’s coming and it’s getting a little ridiculous that you’re still waiting for lightning to strike.

Everyone else drinks, they cook and eat and tell stories. Caleb and Essek sit apart but spend the entire time stealing glances across the table when they don’t think the other is looking. Nearly always they catch each other.

Yasha plays on the bone harp, she’s gotten very good and Jester swings Veth around into a dance. Kingsley, three sheets to the wind, grabs Beau and whips her into a reluctant dance and her initial protests eventually bubble into laughter. Caleb sits beside Caduceus and Jester has switched to twirling a flustered Essek across the floor of the livingroom. It often turns to dancing with these people and he loves that they love it so much.

“As I recall you’re an excellent dancer Mr. Caleb, go cut in.”

He shakes his head, “Ah- I couldn’t. Yasha is playing and I don’t think you’re much of a dancer.” He looks over with a quirk of a brow.

“I’m sure Jester won’t mind a break.”

He coughs at that, “I ah-”

Caduceus shakes his head, “No, talking is done, this is getting ridiculous.” He puts a hand square on his back and guides Caleb to stand, “You two will weave circles of metaphor around each other until one of you drops. Go Caleb, follow gravity.”

He seems to understand, seems to accept Cadcueus’ words and as soon as he stands to full height, Essek is watching over Jester’s shoulder. She, thankfully, understands the same way Caduceus does and even sends a wink as she loudly proclaims, “Oh my gosh Essek I’m so tired, I think Caleb needs someone to dance with, go to him.” She extends her arm, releasing him, and his levitation doesn’t allow him to stumble at the abrupt change in momentum.

Essek and Caleb meet and Essek steps to the ground gracefully as Caleb holds his hand out and pulls him in.

Nobody says anything for fear of spooking the delicate peace that settles over both of them as they gently turn, but Yasha slows the music she’s playing a bit and a quiet celebration is shared in the eyes of the rest of the Nein.

Caduceus breathes a sigh of relief and Jester sits herself beside him, bringing an overly sweet juice she’d found on her travels for him to try. She tells him stories into the night, and the wizards never let each other’s hands go.

#shadowgast #caleb widogast #essek thelyss #caduceus clay #critical role #the mighty nein #cr fanfic #critical role fanfiction #tm9 #my writing #omni writes #my fic #a little worried this is ooc for Cad but also I think he's just treating them like he'd treat his siblings #eventually you just gotta push people in the direction they're heading

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thegremlincrowsnest · 3 years

Text

Beauty and the Beast

Another Collab with Citrus Dome! Please check out the rest of the amazing first made in the Storybook/Fairytale AU Collab

Divider made by @firefly-graphics

The beautiful individual is: @/aneutrallife on instagram

CW: mothman, mentions of pussy, mentions of ovi, monster fucking,

Only a Beast could love something like you.

That was something you were told since you were small.

You were always the odd one in the town you lived in.

Different.

Obscure.

An Anomaly.

All because you were a witch. You had always been intrigued by the usage of herbs and crystals. Cartomancy was a specialty, and you were known for your creation of oils and ointments. The townspeople avoided you and only asked for your services in secret. It began to take its toll on you as you grew older.

Feeling ostracized and wanting to be forgotten.

But that was when He found you.

Apparently, he’d been watching you for some time now, and on that cold fall night, he decided to make his move. You were out in the woods, collecting ingredients you needed to refill on. You ended up finding yourself in the garden of what seemed like an abandoned castle. You were curious about how such a great place could be hidden since you knew the royals lived quite a ways away. Nevertheless, you took your time as you gently tended to the plants. Taking what you needed but still making sure the plants will grow healthy. You froze in place when you heard the crunch of leaves under large feet. You slowly placed a hand on the scissors you used to trim the plants. Turning slowly, to looked up to see a sizeable form towering over you. Covered in dark brown and black fur with light stripes of soft blue. Two sets of rather strong-looking arms were folded across its chest and abdomen. His wings draped over its shoulders like a cloak, but you couldn’t get a good look at the intricate designs of the wings. Your eyes were locked onto his face. His face was worn and scarred, locks of light blue hair cascaded down his head like spun silver.

“I knew you’d find your way here, human. I would be angry if I wasn’t already intrigued by you,” he said. You were taken aback by its rather deep raspy voice as it held out a hand for you. Grabbing it tenderly, you stood, only coming up to his chest. With one set of hands, he held your face to look up at him. Enamored by the scarlet eyes looking back at you, you were surprised when a pair of fluffy antennae brushed against your face. “Yes. I knew it was you.” He said as he lifted you up in his arms, carrying you into the castle.

On that day, you had met the beast known as Tomura Shigaraki and started your new life.

He had apparently been watching you for a few months before then. He had been exploring the forest and came upon you helping a small fawn out of a trap, tending to its wounds before letting it free. He thought you were a curious one, not at all like the other humans in the town. You were sweet and soft, treating them all with a level of care he felt they did not deserve. The day he knew he wanted you for himself was when he had accidentally stumbled upon you bathing at the waterfall further into the forest.

He could recount how you looked as if it was that same day.

Your skin an ochre color, similar to the mellow-brown light that had bathed the forest that warm afternoon. You glimmered like amber, and he could only kneel in the brush near the bank or else his knees would give. You were absolutely beautiful. Your hair was thick and dark like calla lilies, curls framed your freckled face, and oh, what he would give to be able to kiss every freckle. Climbing out from the river, you dried yourself off, and he thanked every god above for the sight of your dripping from panting and sighing from how relaxing your bathing was.

He jerked off to the memory of that day for many moons after until the fateful day you wandered into his territory.

That was about a year ago, and since then, you two had become close. Hesitant at first, you were terrified you were to be devoured. Hearing terrifying stories about the beast since childhood. But over time, you learned that he was a gentle creature, he had a temper, yes, but you stood your ground. Slowly you were able to coax more out of him, his family, and how he ended up like this. It had turned out he was the son of the king that ruled over your land. His father had challenged a powerful fairy who cursed his mother to giving birth to a monster. Though his parents did love him, and when his younger brother was born, the love did not falter. They had to send him away. The townspeople and some of the aristocrats did not like the idea of a beast being king.

You wanted to challenge it; King Toshinori would never do something...would he? You knew how the townspeople treated you, and while you weren’t a monster, you wouldn’t be surprised if they rioted.

You two had slowly started to bond, Tomu, as you affectionately called him, was intrigued by the herbs and crystals you gathered and used. He never forced you to stay with him, but you liked the idea of living with someone who wanted you to around. You told him you could find a way to reverse the spell and make him human, as a way of saying thank you for letting you stay in his castle, but he refused. Saying he would rather die than try to assimilate to their standards. You were silently happy he had refused.

You started to fall for him at that time and couldn’t imagine him without his extra appendages. Especially his wings, when spread out, you could see the intricate patterns on them. A mix of light browns, black, and specks of blue as bright as lapis lazuli decorated them. Although his eye held no pupils or irises, you could see the emotions they expressed. How they softened whenever he thought you weren’t looking or how they darkened when you would wear something more revealing. His eyes would glimmer like rubies whenever you praised him or showered him in affection.

You two had been together for two years at this point; you cleaned out your house and moved in with him. Not surprised when you saw that the townspeople burned it to the ground when they noticed you left. You did not cry, no sight of anger in your face, but you felt hurt nonetheless. You sat at the windowsill, looking out at the forest while the summer sun shined brightly. Tomura had noticed and went to make your favorite tea; you had followed him, however, wrapping your arms around his waist and burying your face in his back. “Y/n? Is everything ok?” He asked, concerned. You nodded silently; he turned and let you nuzzle your face into his pecks. One set of hands lifted your face up, with the other set wrapped protectively around your waist. His eyes softened at the sad expression you held. Brushing one clawed thumb against your cheek as he smiled softly. “I...Wanted to wait until the full moon to ask you this, but...I feel this might be better.” He started, your eyebrows furrowed together as he continued. “I would...like to mate with you, Y/N.” He stated with the softest of a blush, dusting his cheeks. Your face warmed as you processed what he was telling you.

That night you both prepared. Well. It was more, so Tomura prepared you. He put you in a bath of milk and rose petals, rinsing your hair like you had shown him before going to prepare the ‘nest’ as he called it. Bringing in sheets and pillows, sweet-smelling oils and cloths he felt were soft enough. Bringing you out of the bath, he dried you off and brought you to the nest, laying you onto your back. He couldn’t help but get lost in your beauty; your dark hair framed your face as he let his eyes linger. Your full chest and thighs, wide hips, and soft squishy stomach made his wings vibrate. He chirped and purred as he nuzzled you, letting his hands gently caressing your hips. “Sweet-smelling mate, so soft, so good to me.” He said as he moved your legs apart to allow him to settle in between them. You moaned softly, feeling his claws brush against your skin. He kissed and licked down your neck, pausing to suckle on your full breast as he felt his cock unsheath. His long thin tongue wrapped itself around your nipple, stroking it gently as he brought a hand up to your other nipple. The room slowly started filling with a sweet scent; it filled your nose and made your core ache with arousal.

Tomura continued to kiss down your body until he reached your core, kissing your mound, and before he could go lower, you tugged at his hair.

Your face was hidden behind your arm; you softly said, “I…. I don’t like my pussy being licked…”

He nods and smiles empathetically. Deciding to suck on his fingers gently before sliding one thick finger into your entrance, mesmerized by how your hole quivered and stretched. He went at this for what seemed like hours.

Adding another finger and another until he felt you were prepared for his cock. Sitting up, he stroked himself to your form, yes glazed over and skin hot to the touch. You could only stare in amazement at how large he was. His cock was like no humans you’d ever seen, ribbed down the underside, the tip pointed more like a dog than anything. “Tomu...You’re so big.”You said as you gently reached out to stroke it. He smiled proudly at how your reaction. Pushing you back down, he gently wrapped your legs around his waist. Pressing the head of his cock gently into your entrance, he held back a whimper at how wet and wanting you were. Your entrance sucked him in, almost refusing to let him go if he pulled back. Finally, he was able to press his hips against yours. His cock head pressed snuggly against the entrance of your cervix as your back arches, your nails dig into his shoulders. He whines and ruts against your cervix for a moment before pulling back, beginning a slow rhythm. Now it’s your turn to moan as you beg for him to go faster.

“Do you think you could handle it, little one?” he asks as he looks down at you. You nod and plead, begging for more as you rub your clit. “Then your wish is my command, my prince~,” He says as he begins to thrust faster, pushing your thighs back as his nails dig into them; his wings spread and flap as he feels himself grow closer to completion. His soft whimpers turn into snarls and growls as he pounds into you. Flipping you over, he holds you close to his chest; one set of arms hold you up by your thighs as the other focuses on your body. One hand grips your throat while the other plays with your clit. Thrusting up into you, he can’t stop the stream of praises.

“Such a pretty boy, so soft and sweet. Look at how well you’re taking my cock. I can’t wait to see how you look filled with my eggs.”

His hips stutter, and he holds you in place; you feel his cock pulse as he fills your hungry womb with his cum. You howl and moan out as you squirt, legs shivering as you look down to see his cum drip down his cock. Whimpering softly, you felt him purr in content; he nuzzles into your neck as he lays down with you. Cock still pressed firmly into you as you both slowly fall asleep. Entangled in each other.

#cernunnos writing #bnha smut #moth!shiggy #shigaraki tomura #bnha x reader #shigaraki tomura x reader #shigaraki x reader #shiggy smut #shigaraki x y/n #shigaraki smut #boku no hero academia shigaraki #poc!reader #ftm!reader

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palbabor-writes · 3 years

Text

Impetuous

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Adult language, SMUT/18+only, cunnilingus, switching, bratting, face-riding, Satoru being Satoru, so he’s chatty & in general the worst

Words: 12,815

“Knock it off,” you huff, doing your best to ignore how your breasts press against the flat planes of his chest. Then his fingers are under your chin, gently tipping your head up and leaning so close that his lips are inches from your own.

“But what if I don’t want to?” he teases, his voice falling into a lower, hushed pitch before he relaxes his hold, letting you slip from his hands.

Notes: this thing has been languishing in my drafts since like, January. because it was my first step away from BNHA i’ve sorta over analyzed it & edited it, likely to death. but anyway, without further ado, here is my first venture into the JJK fandom! thank you for edits & suggestions: @albinoburrito, @kugutsuu, @kogo & everyone else that i’ve forced to look at this thing. love you all sm & ty for putting up with me!

& it’s gojo because of course it fucking is.

Impetuous im·pet·u·ous /imˈpeCH(o͞o)əs/ adjective done quickly

“I hate to be a harbinger of bad news, and I can understand your frustration, but that’s what they asked me to do. Doesn’t matter what continent we’re on, elders are elders. Honestly, I’m a little shocked that this teaching pathway is even an option for him.” Although you speak softly, your voice seems to carry more in these close meeting rooms, clattering off the tatami mats and gleaming leather couches.

Yaga massages the bridge of his nose and adjusts his dark sunglasses before lifting his eyes to yours. “I understand, but I still feel that he would be an asset to our school. As long as his motivations remain pure, that’s all I can ask for, at present.”

“Pure or not,” you continue, lacing your fingers as you cross one leg over the other. “It’s vital to see how he handles himself on these missions. What if he has a student with him? I’ve never seen his fighting style, but I’ve heard he can be reckless. How can he foster confidence and proper growth if he’s not measured on the basics? There’s the additional worry of taking him off of the higher ranked missions. Or, if you elect to keep sending him on them, can he handle both? Can he teach and still be a successful sorcerer and asset?”

“He’ll be expected to do both. He knows this,” Yaga sighs, reaching for his lukewarm cup of tea. “While he’s not known for his conventionality, I don’t think that will interfere with his teaching. As I said, some recent events at the school have helped to illuminate the importance of managing the coming generation. Satoru is confident, and I believe that will translate well to any future students. He’s already taken on some responsibility with young Fushiguro and the boy is doing well under his instruction.”

“Fushiguro?” you ponder. Your school administration and the head elders had given you a list of names, people who represented the top families among Japan’s sorcerers, but you don’t remember seeing a name like Fushiguro among the others.

“He’s related to the Zen’in family,” Yaga explains, spreading his vast hands open as he replaces his tea cup against the low table that rests between the two of you. “So, if I’m understanding correctly, your superiors in America have sent you to Japan to collect a series of reports. One is on the influence of curses and how our alumni comport themselves in the field. The other is the analysis of our teaching styles and to, how did you put it, ‘further diversify your own teaching abilities as a jujutsu educator.’ And, as if that wasn’t possibly enough, to observe our newest teaching candidate, Satoru Gojo.”

“In a nutshell,” you confirm, a smile quirking the edge of your lips. “We’ve got some missions lined up, right?”

“Yes. You will enter the field with Satoru and one other returning alumna, Shoko Ieiri. She’s finished her medical degree and will join our research facilities in the coming weeks.”

“Oh! She’s the one who can use the reverse healing technique! I’ve heard of her.”

“Yes. She was in Satoru’s class. I realize your report is the main aim that you have here, but I would ask that you keep an open mind. While your report is of value to our school, it will not affect my decision on the matter.”

You lean against the stiff cushions of the couch and cock your head at Yaga’s impassive expression. “Of course,” you assure him, noting that nothing in his outward appearance shifts as you give him the response he was waiting for. “Should be an interesting week, at the very least.”

“Oh,” Yaga replies, finally cracking a less than reassuring grin. “Satoru will make sure of that.”

“Hey! (L/N)-san! The next report is up and they’re sending a manager for us, hurry up! Stop scribbling things in that little notebook. What are you writing anyway? Is it some kinda biography? Oooh! Is it on me? Is that why you keep looking at me? It is, isn’t it? Ahh, now I’m gonna feel self-conscious.”

You snap your notepad closed and slip it into your hip pouch, stepping toward the two fellow members of your team. “It’s just routine notes and you don’t need to call me (L/N)-san. I realize it’s likely force of habit, but please, just call me (Y/N).”

“Ahhh! We’re already on a first name basis! I’m blushing. I’ve never had a girl be this forward with me!” Satoru sighs, clapping his hands against his cheeks and leaning over you. “You’re so bold!”

“Ugh,” you scoff, rolling your eyes at him. “Liar, and stop that. I’m still the senior sorcerer in this party. I–”

“But you’re just a grade 1,” he interrupts, bracing his hands on his hips and exaggerating his stance, moving his face close to yours. As he looms ever nearer, you raise your chin and hold your ground. This invasion of personal space is a tactic he loves to use.

At first, you’d figured he was just another one of those guys who weren’t aware how intimidating their sheer height and presence came off to others. However, as the days wore on, you noticed his intentional maneuvering. He would press at Shoko too, but she was better at ignoring him, so he soon turned his full attention to you.

“Yeah, I might only be a grade 1, but they have given me the command on all of our missions. It’s my job to file the reports, a task that you, as the technical ‘junior party’, aren’t trusted to do.”

“You’re so right! That’s a tremendous responsibility. How do you stand under all that pressure (Y/N)! The role of the pencil pusher is such a big job. I should act right! Or I’ll never be a real jujutsu sorcerer! God, look at this Shoko, we need to get our shit together! At this rate, we’ll never be able to file our own reports!”

“Now, now,” you tut, raising a finger in front of your face, forcing him to take a subconscious step backwards. “Watch what you say, after all, you’re wanting to become a teacher. So some part of the masochism of endless paperwork must appeal to you.”

Satoru’s smooth lips raise into a broad smirk and pulls away, arching his arms behind his pale head. “Hmm, I’ll give you that one (Y/N). Mainly because of your choice of wording. Masochism. What a word for it. And why’d you have to say it so straight faced? Oh, that reminds me, what time is our next mission at?”

“Uh, why did masochism remind you of that?” you pause, lifting your wrist so you can check the time on your watch. “I think it’s in two hours, give or take traffic.”

“Hmm, and it’s in the Chiba district?”

“Yeah, that’s in Tokyo, right?”

“It is,” Shoko chimes in, twirling a lock of her long brown hair between two of her fingers. Her low voice reminds you, and you turn to face her. “Speaking of names, I never asked, would you prefer Shoko or Ieiri?”

“Doesn’t matter,” she replies, lifting her tawny eyes to yours, catching some of the bright sunlight as it fades into the deep circles under her eyelids. The contrast makes her skin look even more pallid. “First name, last name, whatever is easier.”

“Shoko okay with you then?”

“Sure,” she nods, the ghost of a smile lifting her lips.

“Oi!” Satoru interrupts, slinging an arm over Shoko’s shoulder and fixing you with a pointed look. Or you assume he is, it’s hard to tell where he’s looking because of those white strips of cloth that obscure his eyes. “You know what’s in Chiba, don’t you?”

You blink at him, unsure if this is another one of his aimless questions or something genuine. “No. Should I?”

“You’re a tourist and you really don’t know what’s in–”

“We’ve already been over this Satoru; I am not a tourist,” you protest. “I’m here on official business from my administration to–”

“Yeah, yeah. Look, special, ‘top secret’ assignment or not, you’re still basically a tourist because it’s your first time to Japan. You’re honestly telling me you didn’t look up anything before you arrived?”

“Um,” you waver, eyes narrowing at the cheerful leer that’s drifting over Satoru’s angular features. “I looked up some basic things. I know about the Shinjuku and Roppongi districts. Oh, and Harajuku, that’s a big one too.”

“Mmhm, very good, my little tourist, but do you know what’s in the Chiba district?”

“Don’t call me that and stop screwing around Satoru. If this has nothing to do with the mission, then I’m not interested. I could care less what’s in the district–”

“Might just be rumors, but I’ve been hearing about an increase in cursed activity. Especially around that theme park. I’m sure you’ve heard of it,” he looks upward, pearlescent hair tumbling behind his wrappings. “I guess it’s not surprising that it’s a hot spot, what with all the people who are always checking it out. It’s pretty famous.”

Tch. He’s not gonna tell you.

You suck your teeth and twist your hand back to your hip pouch, digging for your phone. As you peer over the search results you can hear him rambling on about the notoriety of the unnamed place but as soon as you hit the second result, your head whips back up.

There’s no way.

Of course you’d heard of it, you’d even thought about it when the higher ups asked you to take on the assignment to Japan, but never, not in a million years, would you have figured that you’d have a chance to go. Not on this trip.

“Are you serious?” you breathe, blinking up at his smug face. Satoru doesn’t answer, just pops one hand under his chin and gives you a shit-eating grin. You look back at your phone and bite your lip, doing your best to contain your budding excitement, double checking the map for the district.

If he’s not pulling some kind of elaborate joke, it looks like Tokyo Disneyland is the location of your next mission.

“What… what the fuck is this, some kinda elaborate joke??”

The gates to the amusement park are warped, and the paint is peeling; one side looks like it’s about to melt off of the frame, all twisted metal and faded rust. Just past the gates you can see what looks like an old merry-go-round, complete with lions, tigers, bears and several sets of horses. At the tip-top of the ride rest a star, and atop that star is a wraith like curse. It spindles around the flecks of gold and cool bronze, baring its teeth at the three of you and sputtering a long line of broken speech as it twists and turns.

“Huh, still looks about the same. This place was enormous when I was a kid. Now it’s a trendy spot for ghost hunters and thrill seekers! I think five or six people died here last year.” Satoru grins, tucking his hands into his pockets as he strides forward. In seconds, he’s beside the curse on the merry-go-round, silencing chittering of its inane dialogue, letting an eerie quiet seep over the rest of the abandoned grounds.

“So stupid. I cannot believe I let him make me think we were going to Disneyland. You know what he’s like, Shoko! Why didn’t you tell me? He–”

“I honestly don’t listen to him. No idea he was making you think this was Tokyo Disney,” Shoko interrupts, already following the path Satoru took, tucking her brown hair behind her neck with a loose hair tie. “But since we’re here, could you lower the curtain and take care of those level 2 curses on the ticket booth?”

You let out a long sigh and toss her a quick affirmative, reciting the familiar incantation, watching as the darkening shield slopes its way down from the skies, sheltering the three of you within its haze.

The first set of curses are easy enough and you swiftly take care of them, unleashing your cursed technique and splicing them into faded dust. How ridiculous, you think, opening the door to the booth and dodging an ill timed lunge from a sneakier curse who was hiding inside. Satoru honestly had you thinking that you’d be going to the Disneyland theme park. On the way over, he’d even told you about the layout of the park and what potential curses might be lurking about.

What a jerk.

Still, you muse, turning toward another shrieking hulk of a curse that’s lumbering toward you, it’s impressive he’d led you on so easily. You make a mental note to get back at him later, for now you need to clear this area and focus on the task at hand.

“I cannot believe that you led me on like that!” you pout, knocking back a small swig of beer.

“Pfft,” Satoru chuckles, wagging one long finger at you. “Didn’t ever say it was gonna be Disneyland, did I? You came to that conclusion all on your own.”

“Oh please! Making me look up what ‘famous tourist spots are in Chiba’ and then nodding each time I said I was excited to see some of the rides on the way over.”

“You could have really been into haunted carnivals. How was I supposed to know?”

“Ass,” you snap playfully, sticking your tongue out at his pleased smile.

After the mission and spotting your peeved expression, Satoru had insisted that you let him take the two of you out for a drink. According to Shoko, the bar in this neighborhood was highly rated and had some of the best specials in the entire district.

The place was packed; but somehow Shoko had secured three seats up at the bar top, ushering you to sit between her and Satoru, informing you there must always be a three foot buffer between her and ‘that loser’. The bartender seemed to know her and, before you could pull yourself into the worn leather seat, three foaming lagers were passed across the rough surface of the bar top, one for each of you.

“Thanks,” you’d murmured, cupping your hands around the glass. On your right, Satoru pushed his lager toward you, raising two fingers at the distracted barkeep as he chatted with Shoko. “What’s wrong? Don’t like beer?” you’d asked, bemused by his disgruntled expression.

“Nah,” he’d confirmed, wagging his digits a little faster, chin lifting as he let out a huffed exhale. “Messes with my eyes. I want something to eat, though. Hey! Shoko! Stop flirting with him and ask if they have anything sweet! Shokooo! Don’t ignore me!”

Shoko made a show of rolling her eyes but, a few minutes later, a plate of piping hot fried sweet buns appeared and he’d swiftly grabbed up one, popping it in his mouth and smacking it hungrily. You’d turned to ask Shoko what they were, but by the time you’d twisted back to Satoru over half of the cakes were gone.

“Damn, you inhaled them,” you’d exhaled, a little shocked he could scarf them down that quickly.

“Well, they’re not bad and hit the spot, for now,” he’d grinned. “Want one?”

“I’m good. You might bite my finger if I get too close… mistake it for one of the buns…”

“Awe, what’s wrong? Think you wouldn’t taste good?”

“Yikes,” you laugh and Satoru hums, clearly pleased with your genuine mirth.

Shoko, who was soon engrossed in conversation with a few of the other patrons to the left of her, kept ordering rounds for the both of you. To keep up, you diligently sipped at each fresh beer, careful to keep abreast of the thrum of the alcohol with several responsible swigs of water. Satoru seemed content with his small order of sweets and peppered you with questions about life in America. He asked about what grade year you taught, the ins and outs of curses within the states and how you liked Japan. He kept things lively and made a point to throw in a few lighthearted jokes at you, beaming each time you laughed at his barbs.

“So, what you’re saying is there’s no one in America quite like me?” he teases, stretching his long arms dramatically before leaning closer to you.

“Stop that! You’re gonna hit someone,” you grin, trying to shove at his side, watching as your hand freezes in midair, held off by his limitless technique. “Seriously? You’ve still got that on?”

“Mmhm,” Satoru intones. “24/7, 365!”

“You would,” you try to jostle him again, bemused by the fraying and shimmering sliver of infinity that rests between the two of you.

“It’s a tremendous strain on my brain, you know,” he bemoans, dropping his head and fixing a long frown over his lips.

“You deserve it.”

“Ack!” Satoru cries out, clutching at his heart. “Wow! No sympathy! You really gonna treat me like this? My senpai?”

“May I remind you - Tokyo Disneyland,” you intone, glaring at his haggard expression.

“WOW. You’re never gonna let that go, huh?” Satoru cracks a face, arching his mouth and hollowing his cheeks, letting a high pitched, cracked voice leech from his lips. “Ahhh, that damned man! He deprived me of my dreams! The chance to see Tokyo Disneyland, one last time!”

“What is that? Me? But… old?”

“Pretty good, right?”

“No.”

“Well, I think it was uncanny!” he crows, nodding.

“What in your warped mind makes you think I’ll sound anything like that when I’m old?” you ask, pushing your empty beer pint forward as you purse your lips.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone so excited over the idea of a theme park,” he ponders, tapping a bent index finger against his smooth chin. “Don’t you guys have them in the states? The Disney parks, I mean.”

“We do, we have two. But, since you made me think we were coming to Tokyo Disneyland, I looked up some rides,” you snatch your phone from the counter, scrolling through a few photos before you land on the right one. “Ah! Here it is! Look at this! See?” you chirp, pushing the gleaming screen of your phone toward him.

“Uh. What am I looking at?”

“It’s the Tower of Terror!”

“Which is… ummm… a ride?”

“Yeah? And look at it! It’s upside down! I don’t think the one in America does that,” your finger reaches toward your phone and you blow up the closest image, tapping at the bright colors. Satoru laughs and waves a hand up, attracting the bartender once more and gesturing for another beer for you. “Imma get you another drink, you’re fun like this, plus, you’re just too cute with that little smile.”

You miss his last comment, wholly focused on finding another set of images. “Oh my God! Look! During Halloween they have a night parade in front of it! And… ahhh! Satoru! There’s a green ghost at the top! It’s almost like that curse we saw tonight at the carnival!”

His long fingers snatch up your bright device, and he yanks it away from your wide eyes. “Ok, that’s enough of that. I’m worried you might end up cursing me for not taking you.”

You give him a sour look and vainly try to grab your phone back, fingers unable to pass through his unseen barrier. “What? No fair! I still don’t understand how you can always have this up!”

“Practice,” he taunts, shaking his head at your determination and wandering touch, chuckling each time you bounce off of his cursed technique. “On another note,” he begins as your new lager is placed in front of you. “What’s in that report that you’re working on?”

You decide to ignore the fact that he’s still holding your phone and cautiously sip past the foam of your fresh beer, peering up at him, studying the lines of his white cloth. It doesn’t tell you much, so you look at his lips instead. They’re pale, but they’re held in a serious line, so you carefully construct your response. “What makes you think I have a report?”

“Why else would you be here?” Satoru counters, rapping his nails against the warped wood of the bar top. “I know you met with Yaga and you’re too cautious and overpowered to be sent on missions with Shoko and me. So you must be here for something else.”

“Officially,” you concede, “I’m here to observe the teaching techniques and skills of the alumni of your school. I’m sure this will come as no shock, but curses are getting more powerful, both here and overseas, and we’re doing our best to keep ahead of those changes. I’m supposed to pick up what tricks I can and bring them back home, to see how we can implement it.”

“Reasonable,” he allows, spreading his fingers before coiling them under his palms again. “But that’s not everything, is it?”

No, you think it’s not.

You lower your beer and look over at him. He’s braced himself against the bar and his head is dipped so his chin is almost against his breastbone. He doesn’t exactly look dejected, but you can see that he’s thinking deeply and something about that openness makes your heart squeeze. He looks a bit like a kicked puppy.

Ugh, he’s not a bad guy. He’s funny, and he knows what he’s doing, plus he has the confidence to get where he needs to go. In all honesty, he wouldn’t make a terrible teacher. Maybe not the best, but he certainly wouldn’t be the worst.

“I–there… there’s some concern you’d be too divided - that it’s not practical to have you teach and go on missions. I also don’t think your own elders trust you much.”

“Ah-ha!” Satoru beams, springing upward and pointing two finger guns at you. “You are here to look in on me! Knew it!”

You can’t help but laugh at him. “Fine, fine, you got me. Let’s get this over with, huh? So we can get back to talking about things other than work, I liked that. What’s the most direct thing I can ask? Hmm, oh! I’ll start with something easy–Why do you want to teach?”

“That’s easy?” he whines, head falling again.

“It’s straightforward,” you bargain, propping your chin on your fist, looking him over.

“Sure, let’s pretend that’s not a deceptively loaded question! Alright, well, it’s the best way to change things.”

“Change things?”

“Yup. Like you mentioned, lately curses have become more powerful and lately it feels like I’m the only one who’s being sent on these high-level missions. Frankly, it’s stupid to rely on just me that much, you know? That’s not practical, or even realistic. So, to my mind, it’s vital I throw my support behind some of these up-and-coming kids. You know, foster the next generation and all that. I want reliable allies in the field and to have that, I’ve gotta make sure they’re taught right. Give them everything I know, make them better than me, stronger than me.”

You’re quiet for a long breath, eyes wide, fingers frozen around your glass, which was midway to your lips. “Damn,” you smile, letting the word hang. “You know, that was actually a pretty good answer.”

Satoru clicks his tongue and curls his lips in a grimace. “Don’t sound so surprised.”

“I mean,” you chuckle and look up at him, eyes bright. “Well, your attitude doesn’t always inspire confidence.”

“Ahhhhhh,” he groans, thumping his covered forehead against the bar. “Such a low blow! Bartender! Another round for me!”

“Please,” you sigh, finally taking a sip of your beer. “Do not call your sweet buns ‘another round.’” He grins at you and leans across the bar top, shifting his weight toward your bent arm. The pressure of his shoulder is warm and you nudge at him a little, playfully. He tuts at you but continues to stare ahead, a faint smile teasing the edge of his lips.

As the bartender slides the requested plate of sweets down, you suddenly realize that you’re touching him. Your eyes widen and you slowly turn your head toward his. He’s not looking at you, content with chewing on his sweet bread, but he’s still braced against you. It’s like all of your senses are finely tuned to that one spot of faint friction between the two of you. You can feel the lines of his muscled arm as he shifts and you involuntarily gulp, doing your best to ignore the abrupt thudding of your heart.

He said he always kept it up, didn’t he? Something about 24/7 and all the days of the year, so why is he…

“Hey,” Shoko’s voice startles you and you instinctively slide closer to Satoru, arm dragging against his shoulder as you try to right yourself again. “I’m gonna go win this drinking contest these guys have started. You two sticking around for a bit?”

“Uh,” you begin, but Satoru cuts you off, draping an arm over the back of your chair. “Yeah, we’ll be here. What are the stakes?”

“Not sure. But the pot is likely against me, if you’re in a betting mood.”

“Sure, I’ll put 20,000 yen on you.”

“Is…” you start, but Shoko is already walking off, one arm pumped into the air as she shoulders her way to the long table that’s filled with five or six others, all of them holding a full pint glass of beer between their hands. You turn back to Satoru and let out a long breath. “Is that safe?”

“Huh?” he asks, face close to yours. You can smell his cologne from here and the heady scent of him and crisp patchouli fills your senses. “I mean Shoko, will she be ok?” you elaborate, eyes studying the space where his own would be, silently hoping that he’ll pull down the barrier that covers half of him from your curious gaze.

“Ah,” he nods sagely, leaning back a little to look out at where Shoko is sitting, quietly waiting for the start of the game with her full beer. “She’s got a ridiculously high tolerance. Wouldn’t be surprised if it’s part of her cursed technique. She’ll be fine.”

“True, she likely knows the limits of the human body better than anyone else. But… I don’t think I’ve ever seen her so… excited?” you muse, sitting against your chair and running into the flat palm of Satoru’s hand. For a moment, you debate shifting away, but he’s not really doing anything, just letting the tips of his fingers rest against the curve of your spine, tapping a disjointed rhythm as he watches the start of the contest, that all too familiar smile still tugging at the corners of his lips.

“She used to be a little more laid back, you know?” he replies, leaning a little harder into your side as he lowers his voice, keeping close to your ear so you can hear him. “She always looks so tired now and her whole outlook has changed, but I suppose four years of med school will do that to you. Although, I did hear that she cheated her way out.”

“No!” you gasp, eyebrows lifted in shock. Satoru laughs, and for once, you’re not thinking it might be at your expense. “Yeah! Just the word on the street. But I wouldn’t put it past her. Shoko’s always done her best to avoid things, namely confrontation or extra work, so it makes sense she’d jet outta med school as fast as she could too.”

“That’s crazy and frankly, terrifying.”

“Riiight?” he shivers, lips raising in an exaggerated wince. “But that’s our Shoko. I’ve got a feeling she’ll do well at the school and I’m grateful I’ll have time to work with her again. It’s been way too long…” Satoru trails off and you can feel his hand slip up your back, fingers ghosting over your shoulder blades.

“Stop that,” you scold, shaking him off with a quick jolt and twisting around to look at his roguish smirk. “What happened to always maintaining your barrier?”

“Awe” he groans, dunking his head against your shoulder with a thump. “Come on, I’ve gotta win you over somehow!”

“Are you serious?”

“Well, I mean, I want the job.”

“I’m gonna hit you,” you threaten, doing your best to keep your bubbling amusement contained.

“Try it,” he taunts, lifting his head and keeping his face close. His nose is inches from yours and you can barely make out his sharp grin, but you can feel the drag and pull of his breath as it passes over you, leaving a lingering sweetness against your skin. Instantly, your hand lifts to him, fully intent on shoving him back, but you can’t move any closer, trapped by the sudden emergence of his infinity.

“Ass,” you prickle, shaking your head at his antics. Another peal of laughter falls from his soft lips and you can’t help but smile back, caught up in his infectious joviality. “Tch. Don’t make me find more Tokyo Disney pictures.”

“You can’t,” he informs you, cocking his head at your confusion. “I still have your phone.”

“Hey! Give that back!” you gasp, snatching blindly at him. He shifts back into his seat and yanks your device out of his pocket, waggling it tauntingly in front of you. “Uh-uh! Gotta get past the barrier first!”

“That’s not fair!”

“Never said that I’d make this… oh! Shoko! How did it go? Win me something?”

You twist and spot Shoko’s dark head approaching the two of you. She pauses beside Satoru and flips a large stack of bills down on the bar top, a wide grin on her usually impassive face. “As expected, I won. Here’s your cut, Satoru. Don’t spend it all in one place or on another order of sweet buns, would you? Think you can do that for me?”

She and Satoru bicker back and forth playfully as you unfold several of the notes, aimlessly organizing them on the countertop as their brisk conversation winds back down.

“So,” Shoko murmurs, pulling a pack of cigarettes from her back pocket and knocking one free from the carton. “You two gonna head out soon? I don’t really see a need to call one of the managers, the school’s close by and so is (Y/N)’s hotel.”

“Yeah,” Satoru replies, finally passing your phone back as he collects the neatly stacked set of yen from you. “Figured, I’d see her back.”

“I can find it!” you protest, jamming your phone safely into your pouch once more.

“Sure,” he mocks, arching toward you as he braces an elbow against the bar. “You can barely speak Japanese and I know you can’t read much kanji, but sure thing, let’s let you loose in the city. See how far you make it before you’re calling one of us, hmm?”

“That’s not… I–”

“Yeah, yeah,” Satoru waves his hand back and forth and turns back to Shoko. “I’ll let her finish her drink and then we’ll head out. See you tomorrow?”

Shoko nods at his question and, for a moment, you think you spy a knowing look pass between the two of them, but before you can call out to her, Shoko is already making her way toward the door.

“What was that?” you ask, eyes narrowed as Satoru looks down at you, white hair gleaming under the low lights. “What?” he asks innocently, propping his chin onto his open palm. “That look that the two of you just gave each other.”

“No idea what you’re talking about. You sure that beer didn’t hit you a little too hard?”

“Ugh, shut up.”

Despite it being late August, a cool breeze greets the two of you when you step out of the bar. “It’s so nice out,” you comment, readjusting your boots as you hop onto the sidewalk.

“Mmhm,” he agrees, bracing his arms behind his head as you make your way down the street. “So did you decide what you’re gonna write in your report?”

You glance up at him and make sure he can see you rolling your eyes. “Back to trying to butter me up?”

“Never! Just asking. If you wanna say I’m crazy and can’t be trusted, that’s fine. I can think of a few others who’d agree with you.”

“Oh? Who?”

“Most people,” he laughs, stepping a little nearer and bumping against you, shocking you with the actual weight and warmth of his body again. As you continue on, you lift your hand to his arm and press the pad of your finger against his sleeve. This time, nothing bars your way so you run the digit slowly along his arm, smiling when he shivers and bats you away.

“Stop that! Someone’s gonna see and think you’re taking advantage of me!”

The laugh that explodes from your chest at that mental image makes you stop dead in your tracks, arms lacing around your shaking stomach. Satoru scoffs at your bent figure and leans down, shaking his head at your guffawing.

“The… the… fact that you… think that anyone… would think that… I–”

“You’re lucky your laugh is so cute,” he muses, bracing his arms over your bent back, playfully pinning you down as he crosses his forearms.

“Hey!” you protest, squirming under his hold. “Let me up!”

“Tell me what you’ve written about me!” he threatens, chuckling as you squirm under him.

“I only said that Satoru Gojo is an absolute monster and shouldn’t be trusted with anyone’s future,” you cry out, overly pantomiming your overwrought expressions, peeking up at him from under his laced arms.

“Oh? Just that? Well, you’re right. So, fair is fair!” Satoru replies, slipping off of you so fast that you nearly tumble to the hard concrete. Half a beat later, he’s back in front of you and lifting you back to your full height, fingers soothing over your arms as he tugs you toward him. “Would it kill you to toss in a bit of praise? Talk about my undeniable prowess and skill? Wax poetic about my stunning efficiency? You know, make them think that I’ve won you over with my charms. After all, you can’t resist me, can you?”

“But what if I don’t want to?” he teases, his voice falling into a lower, hushed pitch before he relaxes his hold, letting you slip from his hands.

A distant quake dashes up your spine, but it’s not from the chill in the air. “Uh, you sure you didn’t sneak some shots under the table? The way you’re pawing at me, you’d think you were the one in the drinking contest.”

“Nah, I told you, I don’t drink. Messes with my eyes.” Satoru pats his index finger against his white wrappings for emphasis.

“Mmm, the six eyes, right? Powerful ability, from what little I’ve heard of it.”

“Yeah,” he hums. “It’s a rare technique. Wanna see?”

You’d walked on, but once the question leaves his lips your feet swivel back, as if they have a mind of their own. He’s standing where he was, hands dug into the pockets of his pants, a lazy smile resting on his lips. The moonlight makes his hair shine, and the gleam is bright against the darkness of the street. The glow makes him look taller, imposing. He’s quiet as he waits for your answer and you take advantage of the extra time to mull over the strange man in front of you.

He’s enigmatic; a force to be reckoned with, for curses and fellow sorcerers alike and, like most jujutsu users, a little crazy. Even knowing all of this, there’s something about him that’s drawing you in. It’s like the pull of a magnet. It tugs at the forefront of your mind and makes you step closer, wanting to see if you can unravel the puzzle that’s Satoru Gojo.

“Fine,” you hear yourself reply, crossing your arms, steadfastly watching for his next move. “Go on. Let me see what all the hype is about.”

He grins and that mischievous look makes your heart beat race against your breastbone as yet another quake slips up your back. “Ready?” he asks, right thumb hooking under the fabric that covers his eyes. You nod once and the pad of his finger starts that short, upward, pull.

He’s slow, painfully slow, in his unveiling.

The smooth angle of his upper cheek peeks out, and he’s careful to roll up the white cloth as he goes. Then, right as he hits the groove of his lower eye, he stops, a frown pulling over his lips. “Mmm, I don’t know…” he contemplates, holding his thumb under his wrappings. “What if I don’t live up to your expectations? Can’t let you down. Not when you’ve been so patient. I know you’ve been wanting to ask, I can see it in your face. Every time we’d start an exorcism you’d look at me, like you were waiting, watching to see if I’d finally take off the coverings.”

Did you?

Does it matter?

Do you want it to matter?

Flabbergasted by his all too true accusations and entirely eaten up with curiosity, you march up to him and wrap your fingers around his raised wrist, not noticing that you’re actually touching him and completely unaware of the alluring smile he flashes when your hand coils around his. “Ugh, come on! For once in your life, stop being such a tease! You’re never fair, always so… so pompous and… and–”

You’d shoved his hand upward as you began your preamble but as soon as the tightly wrapped cloth passed over his right eye you feel your breath leave your tensed body.

His eyelashes are pale, the same ashen color as his hair, but they contrast beautifully with the lone eye that peers down. Beautiful? No, it’s more than that. It’s… it’s…

Truthfully, it’s indescribable and unlike anything you’ve ever seen.

It’s blue; but it’s not an ordinary shade. No, the color seems to meld and shift before your shocked gaze, drifting from hue to hue as the color deepens and lightens. Clouds. It’s like clouds passing over a summer sky. The brightness of the cerulean ensnares you, and you can feel your mouth go dry as you stare up at him.

His eyes are stunning, perfect, and irresistible, hauntingly so.

“So, what do you think?” Satoru asks, pulling his wrist from your grasp and snatching your limp hand in his, twining his long fingers between your own. His skin is warm and you need to say something, anything, but your mind is stuttering, lagging miles behind as you fall headfirst into the overwhelming pull of his presence.

Finally, you unstick part of your tongue.

“They’re… uh… I don’t… ha… God…” You shake your head roughly and the familiarity of that motion slips out of the trance he’s placed you under. As soon as you can think again, you jerk your hand from his and blindly walk down the darkened street. Your heart feels like it’s about to fall out of your chest and you can’t stop nibbling on your lower lip.

It’s not… this isn’t how this is supposed to go, you think, trying vainly to get the shine of Satoru’s eyes out of your mind.

“Never answered my question,” Satoru coos beside you, his long legs quickly catching up with you. “What’s wrong? You like em’ a little too much?… Or…”

“They… they’re kinda creepy,” you blurt out, fingers curling into your palms.

“Creepy!” he gasps, hopping in front of you and lifting up both sides of his wrappings, granting you a peek of both eyes. You do your best to avoid looking at him head on, turning and weaving from him, but he dances closer each time you shift. Damn it. His animated performance makes you exhale a quiet chuckle, and he takes your amusement as a sign to continue, constantly placing himself in your way with a broad grin.

“Stop!” you plead, openly laughing at his sudden burst of silliness. “Now you’re acting like a creep! Satoru! Don’t! Stop showing them to me! You’re losing all of your appeal! Isn’t part of your charm the mystery? Actually, that’s likely all of your charm. Come on, stop it, there’s a cop on that street corner, he’s gonna think you’re drunk and harassing me!”

“Whaaat!” Satoru gulps, whipping his head around to look at the tired policemen that’s leaning against a dim street lamp. “Oh no! The police! Quick (Y/N), before he spots us!” His long fingers snatch up your pliant wrist and he tugs you into a dark alleyway.

“Hey! Where are you taking me? Officer!” you call out playfully as you balefully follow him, dragging your feet along the dusty ground. “He’s over here! Help!”

“Oi! Knock it off! You wanna get me arrested?”

“Oh please, there’s no way that guy is about to follow–”

“Shit! Shhh, he’s coming this way! Come on!” The sheer force of his grip yanks you forward and you stumble after him. He takes the corner of the next alleyway and the pair of you dash along the wet patches that litter the broken concrete. He’s moving at a tremendous speed, but his feet barely make a noise as he glides over the grimy ground and it takes everything you’ve got to just hold on and keep up.

A few twists and turns later, you can finally see the bright lights of the busy street that your hotel is on and you feel a heavy exhale of relief leave your burning lungs. Satoru skids to a halt right before he tumbles onto the safety of the sidewalk that rests a few paces ahead and pulls you beside him, grinning down at you as you try to catch your breath.

“I think we lost him!” he beams and you suck your teeth as you bend over, hands bracing themselves against your knees. “There…there’s no… he wasn’t actually chasing us. Even if he was, I doubt he can catch up now….” your voice trails off as you hear a distant shout from the alleyway and the thud of heavy boots.

No. There’s no way you think dumbly as you stare into the darkness, eyes searching for movement.

“See? I told you he was on to us. He’ll see us if he comes this way. What if… Oooh, lemme try something,” Satoru’s broad hands grab at you and he swiftly maneuvers you against the damp brick of the nearest building, careful not to scrape your back as he pushes you against the rust colored siding. “Just play along, I doubt he’ll notice. Don’t give me that look, it’s your fault he’s following us!”

“My fault? I didn’t… oh–”

His lips are sleeker than you’d imagined.

That first, teasing kiss he gives you already has you lifting your head, following the beguiling smoothness of his mouth, silently asking him for another caress. When he leans down your hands bunch into the dark fabric of his uniform and you can feel his smile against your slackened lips. He doesn’t touch you; his fingers don’t wander to the back of your jaw or the dip of your skull, instead he opts to flatten his angles against your curves, pressing until you can’t feel anything but him.

The next kiss he gives you has a little more bite behind it, literally.

His sharp nose bumps your cheek and his teeth worry against the plush swell of your lower lip, sucking and nipping until you’re snatching for his shoulders, searching for some kind of leverage. His mouth parts and right when you think he’s about to deepen his strokes and teasing pecks, he leans back and cocks his head at your flustered expression. “I’ve always wanted to try that,” he tells you, bracing one of his arms above your head. “It looks so fun in the movies.”

That cop could be right behind him, could be waiting for you both to stop your ridiculous routine and face the harsh gleam of reality, but you don’t care, not right now.

Your hands had fallen from him when he pulled back, and the absence of his warmth makes you desperate to touch him again. But, when you snatch at the corners of his dark jacket, you’re met with that damned barrier.

“Really?” you bemoan, licking at your kiss slick lips, trying again. “You’re the worst, you know that? You let me get used to the idea of having access to you and then just cut it–mmmph…”

With a faint shudder of space, his barrier is lowered once more and his lips are back against yours. This time, his hands join in and he cups his fingers behind your ears, tilting you up as he glides his soft touch over you until you’re groaning.

“Could have just told me you wanted more…” he rumbles in between his caresses, fingers tracing over the line of your jaw, your neck, and the slope of your shoulders. It’s like he can’t decide where he wants to go and you love the momentary burst of indecisiveness that’s broken over him.

More, apparently, entails you asking him to come up to your room.

He’d laughed when you’d mentioned it, your lips swollen and glassy from his attentions, and you’d almost taken it back, peeved by his genuine amusement at the idea, but then he’d plucked you into his arms and smoothed any lingering doubts with another flurry of nips and kisses.

“This gonna make it into your report?” he grins, yanking his high collared jacket off and tossing it carelessly onto the floor. “I should,” you barb, pulling the long band of your hip pouch off, letting it clatter to the ground as your fingers work up the buttons of your own uniform. “Let them think that you’re abusing your status.”

“Tch, me? Abuse my power? Never. Hey, I think you’re supposed to go slower with that. Don’t just yank all of your clothes off. You know, take your time, tease me a little,” Satoru chuckles, jerking his chin toward your busy hands.

“Oh? Wanting a show?” you ask, threading the last button and spreading the heavy material apart, revealing the thin shirt that’s obscuring his view of your breasts and stomach. “Well, that’s too bad, because taking all this gear off is never fun, or sexy for that matter…”

“Not with that attitude,” he hums, stepping closer, peeling his skin tight undershirt off and revealing the sleek planes of his rippled muscles. Most sorcerers are fit; and many boast beefier sets of pectorals and curving arches of biceps and triceps, but there’s something about the streamlined leanness of Satoru that’s making your hands itch. He’s not far, you could reach out for him, slip your fingers over the dips and beveled lines of his abdomen and follow that tempting strip of white that winds down the front of his pants, but that makes this too easy and there’s nothing about Satoru that’s easy.

“Mmm, that’s a new look.” His voice is distant to your ears, but the satisfied note that’s vibrating through his words makes you snap your head up, fingernails scraping against your palms. “You look like you wanna eat me (Y/N)… or maybe, taste is a better adjective. Awe, what’s the matter? Worried I won’t let you?”

You run your tongue over your lips and lift one hand, holding it steady and crooking your index finger at his brazen expression, pleased to see that cheeky smile of his falters a little. “Do me a favor, come here and take off that blindfold.”

“Ah-ha, so bossy,” he growls, voice sinking into that sinfully lower octave as he raises his broad hands to the back of his wrappings, unwinding the fabric and slowly advancing toward you. He stops when the tips of his toes are inches from your own, bracing his palms toward his face, holding the last strip across his eyes. “Wanna do the honors? Or are you expecting me to do all the work tonight?”

“As if. Besides…” you snicker, pulling two fingers to the remains of his blindfold and peeling it down, watching as his hair falls forward, slowly divulging the top of his forehead, pale eyebrows and that shock of avid blue that’s already gazing down at you. “I think you like when I tell you what to do, don’t you?”

“Ahh, looks like she figured me out,” Satoru groans, letting the ivory bindings fall to the floor, his hands already reaching for your waist. He doesn’t give you an opportunity to study him, but they’ll be time for that later, you reason, arms lacing around his chorded neck.

This kiss is hungrier and his tongue immediately dances along the seam of your lips, pressing until you give in. It’s an awkward angle, but he expertly adjusts himself to you, slotting a warm palm against the small of your back and raising the other to curl into your hair, lifting you until it’s perfect.

He’s greedy, devouring every inch you give him with a ravenous edge, but when you suck on his lower lip, he slips into something that’s clearly a little more unhinged.

Suddenly, he’s the one who’s bending forward, trying to get as close to you as he physically can, hunching until you can trace your fingertips over the sharpness of his jaw. His teeth clink against yours as he snatches you up, and you can feel the sharp bulge of his length, the hardness grinding down your hips and stomach as he yanks you nearer. It’s hard to breathe, but he’s refusing to let you budge, lips avariciously seeking and pulling, leaving you with nothing else but the sheer enormity of his touch.

“Fuck,” he gasps, finally letting you fall from his grasp, heaving out a few unsteady breaths. “You’ve got way too much on. Why do you still have so much on?” He plucks at your shirt but stops when he frees the edge from your pants, cerulean eyes bright in the moonlight. “Take it off,” he heaves, forehead pressing against yours, lifting his fingers from you. “Take it off for me, please?”

You nod, a little taken aback by his sudden desperation, and he watches closely as you yank the thin material up, blue eyes shining as you unveil yourself. When the shirt passes over your breasts, he gives you a distracted kiss to the temple before he pulls away, freeing you to pull it over your head and sighing happily when it finally hits the floor, leaving you partially bare. As soon as your arms lower, he’s back against you, hands cupping at your hips, jerking you forward. “Whoa,” you gasp, bracing your palms against his chest. “Slow down. Let me get the rest of this–”

“No, no, no, no,” he chants, fingers smoothing up your spine. “Stop, for a second… just… just gimme a minute. You feel so nice. Your skin, it’s… it’s so warm and so fucking smooth, ahhh. Ohh, yes. A few more seconds (Y/N), just let me… It’s been so long since I’ve touched someone like this. I kinda forgot what it felt like and I don’t wanna let go, not yet.”

His head is bowed and that hauntingly blue gaze is covered by his winced eyelids, but he can’t seem to stop moving. Even as he asks you to hold still, to let him touch you, feel you, he keeps shifting his weight and burrowing his brow into the dip of your shoulder.

“Can I take this off?” he asks, nails scritching at the clasp of your bra. “Please? Lemme take it off. Come on. I know you wanna touch me too, I saw how you were looking at me a minute ago. You’re so fucking cute, I can’t… ahaha, fuck, I sound insane. Look, I’ll slow down, I promise, just gimme a little more of you.”

When he mischievously snaps the strap of your bra against your shoulder blade, you can’t help but laugh at his infectious exuberance. His head lifts from you and he turns his attention to your neck, soft lips sucking and nipping at you until you’re wriggling in his hold. “Alright, alright! Just step back, Satoru! I’ll take it off,” you placate, knocking him away and huffing at the long face he gives you in return. “Here,” your fingers unhook the two pronged clasp and the delicate lace slips from your shoulders, falling to the carpeted floor with a hush. “Okay, that’s everything on the top half. Now what are–Ah! Satoru!”

He takes full advantage of his superior speed and before you can blurt out a proper retort, he’s against you.

His teeth worry at your earlobe and he immediately hoists you upward, seizing the lush curve of your ass and pulling you into his powerful arms, urging your legs to wrap around his trim waist. When you shakily oblige, he cups one lean arm under you, but the other drags you forward, scraping your newly bared breasts and stiffened nipples against the planes of his powerful pectorals. When he walks, you jostle in his grasp and coil your fingers around his neck, smiling when he moans contentedly at your reliance on his firm hold. “Damn,” he grunts, cocking his head so he can lick a wet circle into your pulse. “You feel fucking good (Y/N). So damn smooth, how are you so soft? God, I want more, I wanna feel everything.”

The front of his shins hit the edge of your bed and he tumbles you down, a dark grin spreading over his face as he watches you stretch out teasingly. He plants a knee into the soft bedding and braces both arms beside your head, leering over you.

For a long breath, both of you study each other, eyes whisking over gleaming skin and the curves of your faces. Without the added heft of that blindfold Satoru’s snowy hair hangs loosely over his face, straight tendrils clinging to his brow, making him look younger, mellower, and so very handsome. Opting to take advantage of this lull, you reach up and thread your fingers into the silken strands.

When you reach the edge of his temple, you scrape your nails against his scalp, grinning as he lets a heavy exhale fall between his lips, cerulean eyes falling to a pleased half mast. “You’re trying to distract me,” he accuses, gliding a wide palm up your side. You shake your head and keep twirling his hair across your fingertips, marveling at his own softness. “No. I just like your hair.”

“That’s a first,” he snorts, cupping a palm underneath one of your breasts and pulling his thumb over the swelling bud of your nipple. “Here I am, trying to feel you up, and you’re too distracted by my hair to appreciate it. How rude.”

“Shut up,” you gasp out, arching into his hand as he tweaks and plucks at your pebbled tip. “You’re lucky I’m even… mmm… letting you do this.”

“Please. It was your idea, remember?”

Satoru lowers one of his braced arms, letting his weight fall heavily to one side as he keeps his deepening ministrations up. Your fingers are still buried in his hair when he drops his lips to your breast. You feel the flick of his tongue first, and the light tap has you bowing your back, gasping out a faint cry as his rough appendage continues to swipe and twirl over your sensitive flesh. Instinctively, your hands tug at his pearlescent strands and he tilts his head up, fixing you with a lazy stare. “That’s better, looks like I just need to refocus you, huh?” he muses, his words half garbled as he sucks your plump breast into his mouth. He keeps flicking his tongue over you as he suckles, lapping and nipping until you’re writhing under him.

Once he’s satisfied, his free hand lowers to your grinding hips, forcing you to lay flat against the bed, switching his attention to the neglected twin, sucking and pressing open mouthed bites to your damp, shaking skin.

A tight heat is coiling in your core and your thighs rub against each other, trying to cool the sharp pricks of arousal that are coursing through you. As soon as your hands fall from his head, Satoru picks up his pace, licking his sloppy tongue under your breasts and nibbling his way down your quivering stomach. “You’re still wearing way too much,” he scolds, fingers toying with the gold clasp of your pants.

“It’s… oh… difficult to take things off when you… ah–won’t let me move more than two feet from you.” You’d meant it to sound a little firmer, but his constant touch is wearing down your focus, distracting you with brilliant flashes of his luminescent blues and whites.

“Awe, (Y/N),” he whines, popping his hand against your hip, long fingers digging into your swelled curves. “That’s not fair. I told you, I always have my barrier up. Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve touched someone, anyone? I mean really touched them?”

“Daw,” you sigh, propping yourself up on your elbows and peering down at him. “You poor thing. The all powerful Satoru Gojo, too honed and practiced with his neutral technique that he can’t even hold anyone’s hand.”

“Ha, such a jerk,” he laughs, exaggerating a wounded frown. “I bare my soul to you and this is how I’m treated?”

“Stop being so dramatic,” you scoff, yanking your legs from under him and popping up on your knees, hands reaching for him, curling under his jaw and urging him upwards. His eyes lock onto yours and the grin that tweaks the corner of his lips gives you an idea. “You said you wanted to touch more of me, right?”

As you wait for your answer, you scoot backwards, making him follow you across the bed, finally luring all of his sprawling form onto the cool sheets. “Mmhm,” he grunts, doing his best to keep close, teasing fingers inches from your skin at all times, always ready to stroke and cup each time you pause. When you hit the headboard you stop, studying his features, admiring the growing hunger that’s screaming its way out of his wide eyes.

“You ever eaten a girl out?”

The question hangs for half a second and you can see his pupils dilate, the black threatening to swallow up the sky streaked blue of his eyes. Then, right when you’re about to tease him for his gaping mouth and flushed cheeks, he’s bowling past you, splaying out against the mattress and pulling you on top of him.

“Fuck, that’s by far the best thing I’ve heard all day. Hell, all month. I’ll likely go to my grave thinking about that question. Ouch! Stop squirming, you’re kneeing me in the ribs.”

“I wouldn’t… Satoru! I can’t breathe if you hold me like that!” His arms are like cables, all tensed muscle and raw strength as he pins you against his heaving chest, lips kissing and nipping at any part of you he can reach.

“Whatever,” he grumbles, sucking a bruise into your arched collarbone. “Hurry up and take your pants off. And don’t say you can’t do it like this, you’re a grade 1 sorcerer, you can do anything you put your mind to.”

“Is that going to be part of your teaching regime?” you smart, bucking your hips up so you can unclasp and wiggle your pants down your legs.

“Oooh, you’re right, that sounds good. Damn, I gotta start writing this shit down. That way I can have a whole list of euphemisms. Can you imagine? Molding young minds and helping them to stand up to all the bullshit that those so-called elders make everyone suffer under. All those rules and regulations, the stupid ins and outs they make us all jump through–”

“Hmm,” your voice falls to a gentle hum as you snatch at his chin, stilling his chatter with a single finger against his lips. “That sounds ambitious, but why don’t we take things a little slower, give that mind of yours something else to focus on?”

“Oh?” Satoru smirks, arching an ashen eyebrow at you. “Then you better get up here, before I get distracted again.”

“Don’t you mean down?”

“Huh, down? Ah, I see where the confusion is. Nah, I want you to ride my tongue, baby, so hurry up.” His long arms help him jerk you upward, easily lifting and enticing you forward. That early impatience is peeking out once more, and he pops his head up, nostrils flaring as your uncovered cunt drifts nearer. “Ah, God, I bet you’re so fucking wet. I can smell you from here. Come on, grab onto the headboard and let me get to it.”

Your legs shake as you plant them beside his head and you do your best to steady your pounding heart, pulling a thin stream of air through your parted lips. As soon as you touch the wood of the headboard, he’s gripping your thighs so tightly you’re sure he’s going to leave bruises behind. The tip of his nose is the first thing you feel, and it’s so close to your pulsing clit that you inadvertently cant your hips forward. “Ooh, sensitive, are we?” he crows, nestling himself under you, his breath hot against your dampened folds and wet curls.

The following slick slurp of his tongue and the slow pass of his lips make your head tip back. He’s surprisingly gentle, slowly licking his way along your labia, pulling and sucking as he goes, teasing closer to that tight bud that’s waiting, just a little bit higher.

At first, you worry about crushing him, too caught up in the placement of your weight to fall into the haze his mouth is begging you to slip into. But then his lips latch onto you, careful to mouth in time with the thud of your clit, suckling and squeezing until you can’t help but grind down, earning yourself a sharp groan that reverberates against your trembling skin. Using the weight of the headboard as leverage, you roll your hips over him, shifting in time with his well-placed rhythm.

He’s good, but even the great Satoru Gojo isn’t perfect, not all the time.

When he nips at you a little too hard you shift back, depriving him of your wet heat, loving the petulant sighs and moans he gives you when you do. “Ah, sorry. Gimme a little more time,” he bargains, fingers sinking into the voluptuous curve of your ass, tying to urge you back over his glistening lips. “I’ll do better, (Y/N). Besides, I want you to cum for me. You taste so fucking good and I want it, I want all of it. Hey! Don’t be like that! I said I’d do better. Come back here.”

God, he’s such a brat.

Every time you shift away he’s got another string of exasperated pleas ready, twitching his fingers and shaking his pale head at your impudence. “Less talking,” you moan, shivering as he delves his tongue into you, feeling his grin as your cunt squeezes around his intrusion. “Ok, ok,” he growls, using his brute strength to overpower your tensed legs. “Mmm, yes baby, ah–just relax, I’ll take care of you.”

Fuck, you think as you sink your fingers into his hair, spurring him on, this feels way too good.

When he captures your clit between his teeth and tweaks the tip of his tongue against you, you can’t help but fall to pieces. Your orgasm hits you like a battering ram, seizing hold of your muscles as it rolls through you and scattering a faint spark of spots across your vision. Satoru’s arms wrap around your blindly pistoning hips, helping you to sink closer, ravenously slurping and swallowing down each wave of arousal that hits his gluttonous lips.

You’re still shaking when he pulls out from under you, flipping you bonelessly under him as his hands finally rid himself of his clearly tented and damp pants. Your eyes are just clearing when you catch sight of him, studiously following that trail of white curls to his impressive length. His cock is long, curving proudly toward his chiseled stomach and bubbling a clear string of pre-cum from the flushed tip. You do your best to sit up, but as soon as he catches sight of your movement, his broad palm is pressing you back. “Ah-ah,” he taunts, stroking a hand over his swollen cock and wiping the last of your slick from his face against his shoulder. “Keep still for me, ‘kay?’”

His wide palms spread your legs apart, and he soothes his fingertips along your skin as he tugs a few heady groans from himself. “Fuck, you look so good. You’re so goddamn pretty. When you were sitting there at the bar and you looked so fucking happy I couldn’t take my eyes off you, you just looked so nice. Haven’t even known you a week, and I’m already obsessed with hearing that laugh of yours. You put some kinda spell on me, huh? That what this is?”

“Ugh, stop talking, Satoru,” you threaten, watching the steady ebb and flow of his clenched fist. His cock looks so smooth and you’re desperate to reach for it, to take hold of velvety flesh and see how long it would take for the world’s strongest sorcerer to be putty in your hands.

He arches a pale brow at your blatant stare. “You want it?”

“I want you,” you correct, and the smile that breaks across his handsome face makes your heart squeeze.

“Awe, how can I possibly say no to that?” he asks, gleefully lining himself up with your slit. Despite his early eagerness, he’s taking his time with this part, running the bulbous head of his cock over you, gathering up some of your gossamer strands, slicking himself with your dripping arousal. “Sorry,” he amends when he makes another pass along your folds. “It’s been awhile and I want to take it all in. I don’t wanna rush this.”

“It’s fine,” you smile, lifting your hands to pass them over his stomach, watching as his muscles ripple under your delicate touch. “Just don’t take too long or you’re not going to be on top for much longer.”

“That a threat or a promise, baby?” Satoru leers, finally slipping his tip past that first, tight ring of your entrance. Despite his bravado, his lips curl over his teeth and he lets out a low hiss as he sinks into you, inch by shallow inch. The pressure of his cock makes you arch, legs automatically wrapping around his waist, heels digging into the small of his back. He bows his head and his ethereal gaze falls behind his shaking eyelids as he thrusts forward, edging himself along until he bottoms out within you. Fuck, you feel so full.

The stretch of him makes you shake and you’re grateful he’s taking his time when he stills, lips smacking distracted kisses over your heated cheeks and parted lips, giving you time to adjust to him, and he to you. After a few steadying breaths, his teeth bite at the hollow of your throat and he pulls his hips back, grinning as your hands grasp into the sheets, a sharp whine escaping you. He echoes your sentiment, letting a gasping string of curses tumble from his shaking lips as he ruts forward again, one hand gripping at your right leg, prying you from his waist and slinging the trembling limb over his shoulder.

This angle has him pressing against something wonderful and sharp, and you can’t help but gasp out his name as he starts to methodically ram into it, over and over. You can feel him swell at the sound of your pleading moans and you savor the feel of his cock throbbing against your tender walls. “More,” you shudder, fingers trying to hurry his steady hips as he diligently cants into you.

“In a minute,” he grunts, biting at your pliant skin, arms coiling under your back. “This feels too fucking good. Let me just… ah… fuck…”

He slows, moving at a pace that sets your teeth on edge, and you thrash under him. Although his cock is digging against that aching place that’s sending dots and stars across your eyes, it’s not enough pressure. Licking your lips, you worm one of your hands between the two of you and pinch and roll your fingers over your clit, easing some of the tingling bittersweetness that’s pulsing over you.

“Alright, alright, point taken,” Satoru chuckles, releasing your leg from his tight grip and re-lacing it around his hips. “How do you want it, baby? You want it fast? Or do you want it hard? Tell me.”

“I don’t know,” you murmur, peeking up at his enthralling cerulean, willingly ensnaring yourself in the intensity of his gaze. “I just want more of you.”

“Tch,” he hums, cupping a hand against your warm cheek. “Don’t say shit like that, I might end up falling for you.”

The laugh that echoes from your lips is swiftly cut off by a gasp as he abruptly ups the pace of his thrusts. He’s quick, but he’s still listening and watching for what you like. When you moan he’s right there with you, steadying his rhythm, and when you call out his name, he digs a little harder.

It’s too much. It feels raw, like you’re scratching at a cut. Like there’s some itch that you just can’t reach.

All of it, the feel of his meaty balls slapping against the sticky plushness of your ass, and those breathy moans makes your head spin. The intensity of the moment slips your fingers from your clit, but he makes up for their loss by grinding down each time he sinks into your cunt, scraping the hard edge of his pelvic bone against your throbbing bud.

He’s good. Fuck.

You can feel the hazy slope of your orgasm approaching and you blindly arch up each time he careens downward, ensuring that he’s hitting right where you need him to. His movements start to hit a lull as he slips into his own fog of lingering pleasure, dipping his head to your neck and sighing contentedly when you kiss at his temple. But the tenderness of your touch must knock him out of his own whirring thoughts and he rewards you with another set of rapid fire thrusts, his lips pulling from your neck to seek out yours, kissing and nipping until you’re gasping for air.

“Mmmm,” he moans, breath hot against your skin. “You feel so good and you’re getting so fucking tight. You gonna’ cum for me? One more time?”

You do your best to gulp out a reply, but the abrupt press of his calloused thumb against your clit makes you shake instead, a tingling rush of heady arousal racing its way up your spine. Smiling down at your awed expression, he lifts his fingers away and uncoils your legs from his waist, flinging them both over his broad shoulders, his knees settling forward as he continues to roughly thrusts his hips forward, driving you quivering body into the soft sheets.

“You like that? Does it feel good? Does it? Fuck baby, I’m begging you, give it to me one more time. Can you do that for me? Can you cum for me? I want you to cum on my dick, ah, come on (Y/N), just once more, that’s all I’m asking. You can do it, can’t you?”

He’s rasping his questions against the shell of your ear, hands cupping at the side of your face, keeping you close as he races toward his own end, voice lifting into a frantic plea as he hurtles closer, desperate to feel your satisfaction rippling around him before he completely looses himself to the aching pleasure of your body.

“I–” you choke out, arms lacing around his back, nails pressing half moons into his skin. He moans at the bite of your touch and tilts your hips upward, seeking more of you.

That change is all it takes.

The tip of his cock presses down, lifts, and then suddenly you’re seeing stars.

“I’m… yes! Oh, fuck. Satoru, just like that. Don’t… don’t stop!” For once, he doesn’t tease. He just smiles, his face flushed, pale cheeks dusted a pleased pink and repeats the motion, careful to keep everything absolutely steady. The repeated push and pull, the warmth of your cunt, the feel of your skin, it’s making his cock throb and his heart race, but he’s determined to see you break.

There. There it is. Fuck, you’re so pretty.

On an outward pull of his hips, your back arches and your thighs tense and he lets out a long growl, quickly breaking his fastidious rhythm and sinking back into you, gasping as you flutter around him. A new flush of wetness leaks out of your cunt and squelches between your pinned legs, dripping over the cleft of your ass.

He only lasts a few extra ruts, but the feel of him swelling and pulsing inside your tender pussy almost topples you over the edge again and you cling to him in the aftermath of his release, your heaving breasts catching against his flat pectorals.

With a quick peck, he slowly lowers your legs and eases himself out of you, blue eyes widening at the sight of his softening hardness leaving your leaking pussy. “I don’t know which I like better,” he contemplates, leaning back on his haunches and slicking his index finger up the pooling dribble you’ve both left behind, spreading the spidery traces across his hand. “You wet and dripping for me or filled to the brim with my cum.” His lewd comment makes you huff out a low groan of exasperation and you roll off of the bed, shaking your head as you steady yourself and walk toward the bathroom.

After a brisk rinse in the shower, you pad back into the darkened room, fully expecting to see an empty bed. You’re not sure why that’s your first thought, but something about Satoru doesn’t scream: I’m the kind of guy who likes post coitus cuddles. So the sight of him, bundled under your sheets, white hair poking just above the edge of the blankets, is a surprise.

“Oh,” you pause, dropping your towel on the floor as you openly gape at him. “You’re still here… I, well, I figured you’d take off.”

“Huh?” Satoru croaks, popping his head up, his face comically askew. “What kinda guy do you think I am?”

“Apparently the kind that stays over,” you snicker, digging around for your discarded bra and panties.

He lets out a mock gasp, popping a hand against his cheek. “How could you say that! And after I gallantly brought you back here?”

“And fucked me,” you remind him, slipping your lacy underwear back on and re-adjusting the clasp of your bra.

“That too!” he qualifies, arching a pale eyebrow at your impassive face. “I’d say I was pretty generous. You did cum twice after all.”

“Oh my God,” you sigh, crossing your arms across your chest and perching beside the edge of the bed, shaking your head at the sprawling man under your covers.

“Come on, you wouldn’t seriously make me walk all the way back to the school at this hour. What if something happens to me? How could you live with yourself, knowing you kicked me out into the cold?”

“It’s summer,” you point out, rolling your eyes. “And you’re… what six foot three… and you have the legendary six eyes… I mean, I think you’ll be ok.”

“(Y/N),” Satoru begins, narrowing those bright blue eyes at you.

“Yeah?”

“Is it your habit to sleep with helpless guys and then kick them out? You’re so cruel.”

“Stop it,” you warn, snatching at the sheets and yanking them off of his naked form.

“No!” he protests, fingers clutching vainly at the thin cover. “Your bed is so nice! Come on, I’ll be good and I don’t snore. Well, not that I know of anyway…”

“Ugh, fine. I don’t have the energy for this and we have to be up in four hours. Just shush and scoot over.”

“Oh? Do you not have the energy because I fucked it out of you?”

“I’m sorry, were you wanting to stay the night?”

“Alright, alright,” he splays his hands up in supplication and makes room for you, watching closely as you curl up beside him, a smile playing over his lips. “Hey,” he asks once you’ve closed your eyes, leaning close to your reposed form.

“What?” you groan, cracking an eye open.

“Can I be the little spoon?”

“Satoru…”

“Mmhm?”

“Shut up.”

notes: hehe. i feel like he’d be so freaking chatty in bed. plus, how could i not make him a little touched starved? stop making me like characters that just wanna be held universe, gosh :3c

#jjk friday #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo x you #satoru x reader #satoru x you #satoru x y/n #reader insert #jjk imagines

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youarejesting · 3 years

Text

Hope in the sheets.10

[Masterlist]

Beta: N/A Pairing: Hoseok x Reader Genre: Friendship, Comedy, Soft boy, Fluff, SMUT, Friends2Lovers, Words: 5k

Summary: You held many titles: his neighbor, colleague, wing-man… well, more likely a wing-woman, yet most importantly, you were his best friend. You had been friends since you were born. Between the two of you, you were younger; barely, but he never let you forget it. He always seemed to ruffle your hair and tease you, which could get rather annoying but he made up for it by treating you to things.

What if a drunken one night stand between you and your best friend Hoseok leads to more complicated situations? Your reckless twenties are cut short as you find yourself suddenly responsible for something a little more.

Warning: Implied sex, pregnancy, implied reader has baby.

[First] [Previous] [Masterlist] [Next]

Hoseok and the others were eventually led into the birthing suite; the entire place had been cleaned and only the bare minimum of staff stayed behind. They were sorting out equipment and monitoring your current state. When his eyes landed on yours he felt emotions bloom in his chest. There you were laying in the bed, a small bundle of soft blankets nestled delicately in your arms. You had showered and dressed in a nightdress that had been packed in your hospital bag.

Hoseok’s lip curled. He was trying to hold his expression, giving you a forced smile before he broke out into tears. Holding your free arm out to him, he stumbled into your embrace kissing your forehead and telling you how much he loved you.

His words were broken by the force of each sob. “Are you going to hold her, or do we have to hold you?” Yoongi playfully teased. Hoseok wiped his eyes taking a few shakey deep breaths trying to calm his emotions.

When you moved the blanket to show your daughter laying gently against your chest, he was a mess once more. “Hobi, you want to hold her?”

“I can hold her?” He hadn’t even thought that far ahead. He could hold this baby, his daughter, he could hold her in his arms and she was real.

“Of course you can hold her.” You laughed, reaching up to wipe his tears away. Hoseok remembered everything he was taught from the birthing classes, practically reciting them out loud. You placed his daughter in his arms and his bottom lip fell.

Tears were his automatic response. There was nothing else, this miracle, this symbol of his love for you, his best and longest friend. This was his child, his flesh and blood and he couldn’t thank you enough for giving him such a gift.

“You have to stop crying Hobi, we need a nice picture for your family.” You smiled and he tilted his head back sniffing.

“I love you so much, and I love her, I just can’t stop crying.” The words broke again Hoseok turned to show off his daughter to his friends. They were some of the people he was closest to and when he looked at them they were all crying. Jungkook’s wet cheeks and red nose, Jimin’s sweet puffy eyes bubbling with tears, even Yoongi let out a stray sniff.

By far it was a sight to see big burly Namjoon openly weeping like Hoseok and cooing over how precious she was.

“Look how little she is,” Namjoon whimpered

“Her hands are so tiny too,” Hoseok said back. The two were just making it worse for each other, a back and forth of doting comments of your newborn each statement causing a fresh cycle of tears.

The nurse who had been checking your vitals waiting to take you back to the ward rolled her eyes. “I have seen some sappy fathers but you brought a whole troop.”

“Gentleman it’s time to let mum and her baby get some sleep, the father can come back tomorrow morning any other guests can come two at a time during visiting hours.” She ushered the other six males from the room, Hoseok kissed you his cheeks were wet.

“I don’t want to go.”

“Get some sleep Hobi, get the house ready. If all goes well I will be out of the hospital soon.” The nurse took your daughter from Hoseok’s arms.

“Wait, can I give her a kiss?” You whispered. The nurse nodded bringing your daughter over allowing you to kiss her goodnight before she was wheeled down to the nursery.

“Are you ready to go back to the ward? You should get some sleep. Your body will be exhausted. We will bring the child in when she is hungry.”

“Okay Hobi, I have to go rest now you head home and make the house all ready for when we come home okay.” You waved goodbye to him and watched as Jimin took his hand leading him from the room. He seemed reluctant to take his eyes off of you, his hand coming to lay flat under his heart.

You touched your collar bone watching him mouth the words 'baseline'. It was like everything you ever wanted but such a weird and obscure way you got there. You wanted to be with Hoseok and cherish him and be loved in return, but you never thought you would get there by completely derailing your relationship and almost ruining your life.

It was like you had to destroy what you had to build something better. It seems counterproductive and a step in the wrong direction but somehow you were able to shape the rubble of your friendship into a relationship stronger than before.

You love Hoseok with all your heart and he only has eyes for you. It seems you were both delusional to believe that you weren’t in love. Everyone could see it except the two of you and now it was painfully obvious.

Being a mother was kind of a shock. Scared when you woke up to cramps, only to remember you had already given birth, you were also woken throughout the night to feed your daughter. A part of you worried about taking care of someone, the responsibility setting in as being a mother was a full-time job.

“You are doing wonderful.” The nurse gave you some pain killers for your cramps, your uterus was slowly shrinking back to its regular size and you were uncomfortable. “Would you like me to get you anything?”

“I would love something to drink.” Voice hoarse from sleep, she nodded before setting off for you. You sat up watching the sunrise, your daughter sleeping soundly on the bed in front of you. She was so precious. Even with closed eyes she still wiggled and stretched her hands out to the warm glowing orb.

“Seonhee, do you like that name?” You whispered, taking out a small outfit: a white onesie with sunflowers and bright yellow footed pants with soft yellow ruffles on the butt. “Jung Seonhee.”

“Ah, is that her name?” The nurse smiled, placing some apple juice and water on the small bedside table. She sanitized her hands and began helping you with the baby's clothes and diaper, bagging the old clothes and disposing of the soiled diaper. She smiled down at the little girl in her bright outfit. “I think it suits her, Seonhee”

The doctor came by on her round, her hair pulled into a tight bun and her scrubs pastel blue with stalks. “You are looking better, how are you feeling?” There was no messing around, she was straight to business, checking for any concerns or pain. Your stomach was being palpated while she brought up things to look out for. “Ultimately if anything happens that you are unsure about, even if it is something silly like, should I have coffee while breastfeeding, call this number here, they are a great service and they will help you.”

“Thank you so much.” Taking the card you were handed and a little care package from the hospital, the nurse placed the card into the baby book which had accompanied you throughout pregnancy and after. “Am I okay to go home today?”

“You are all clear. Let us know what time you want to leave and we can have all the paperwork ready.” Pausing in the doorway, a young nurse almost bumping into her, she spun around, her coat swishing with her. “After giving birth a lot of women become a little moody, fatigued, or cry. This is totally normal as your hormones will be dropping back to a normal level. It is perfectly normal to feel these things during this time.”

“Ah, that’s good to know.” You replied while searching through the care package, glancing at some of the booklets and information sheets. There was a number for a community service where mothers take their babies to be weighed and receive checkups. The nurses had few information sessions on feeding techniques and developmental leaps.

Looking forward to being a part of a group of new mothers, you knew you would have a lot of questions eventually. It would be nice to know if other mothers have similar concerns or effective tips for any future problems.

Hoseok arrived with a big smile, kissing you sweetly before heading over to scoop up his daughter. “Wait Hobi,” you stopped him, “I need to talk to you before you get all teary-eyed again.”

“Okay,” serious expression on his face he gave you all his attention.

“We need to agree on her name and sign the birth certificate.” The smile returned to his face, the twinkle in his eyes never dwindling since the moment he stepped into the room. “I like the name 선희 (Seonhee) written as 善 meaning Good or nice and 希 as in Hope”

Hoseok watched you write an example on a scrap piece of paper, and began nodding enthusiastically. Hands shaking the two of you eyed one another passing secret smiles, the taste of giggles on the tip of your tongue. Once the document was completed Hoseok’s hand swooped up into your hair, cradling your nape as he kissed you.

Neither lazy nor heated, the kiss was full and romantic, his lips telling a story against yours. The world stopped and only Hoseok existed. Until a shrill cry broke through the silence and the two of you apart. The cry brought with it the sound of machines and nurses walking down the hall.

“You want to go home,” Hoseok raced around the hospital bed towards your daughter, wiggling in the tiny hospital portable bassinet. His style was honestly amusing. Strips of fabric hanging from a graffitied shirt with a cargo jacket and sneakers. Strange to see him holding a baby but you loved it so much.

Just because you were parents didn’t mean you had to get rid of everything you love. Sure you had to grow up and it was extreme. The transition you made while pregnant felt like your life was ending. That you would live to serve a tiny being. But seeing Hoseok still smiling the same, still wearing the same street hip hop style reassured you that you still had a life outside of being a mother and that would never change.

Of course, the two of you probably wouldn’t club anymore. It would be unfair if either of you went out without the other and unfair on your daughter if you were not there for her. Not to mention the cost of babysitting and the trust you would need in order to leave Seonhee with someone who wasn’t you or Hoseok.

Hoseok helped you with your bags packing the car, he had borrowed Jin’s for a smoother drive. Always thoughtful even on the littlest details. Sitting by the baby's car seat while Hoseok drove you home apologizing for every speed bump and every turn.

“Hoseok, I would like to go home before it is dark. You don’t have to drive that slow.” You laughed, he was being so serious like a knight or warrior preparing for battle to protect those he loves. In the reflection of the rearview mirror, you saw his lips twitch in amusement, the sun shining on his shaggy hair. “I love you.”

“Babe,” He whined, “you can’t say that when I am driving, I want to kiss you and then we really won’t get home before dark.”

His eyes flickered up to meet yours in the mirror before concentrating diligently once more on the road. He was singing softly to the radio as he crossed town, you must have fallen asleep as you were woken by his sweet laugh and some kisses on your cheek.

“We are home Lil darling.”

Breathing deeply trying to clear your head from your nap, as the fog in your mind disappeared your hands were secured in Hoseok’s as he helped you out of the car. Standing patiently for your body to catch up, the tender sensations in your stomach leaving you stiff.

“Seonhee, time to see your new home.” Hoseok scooped up the infant holding her to his chest as if it was the most natural thing like he had several years of experience. As opposed to this child being his firstborn. He took the soft yellow muslin wrap and covered her protecting her eyes from the afternoon sun.

Opening the door, you weren’t surprised, (mostly because you had spotted their cars on the curb) to see the boys sitting on your couch equally as excited to see you as they had been the day before in the birthing suite. Hoseok was placing your bag on the table when Seonhee started crying.

“Hey, sweetheart what’s wrong?” Hoseok patted her bottom to a steady rhythm hoping it would lull her back to sleep. Her crying continued and you felt your shirt grow damp, taking a seat you held out your hands for your daughter and nursed her while the boys kept their eyes firm on one another to respect your privacy.

“Are you drinking or are you sleeping?” You giggled at your daughter who was milk drunk. Burping her gently she wiggled releasing a few loud burps and spitting up a little onto the back of your hand and the small burp cloth you had been holding to her clothes.

“Let me take her while you clean up.” Yoongi smiled, scooping up your daughter, holding her so her head was supported, her arms and legs draped over either side of his arm. His other hand rubbed and patted her back gently as he swayed.

“You look like a squashed pie.” He smiled cheekily talking to the baby in his arms. “Cute bow shape lip from your mum, and your nose is very cute like Hoseok’s.”

“How dare you call her a squashed pie.” Namjoon tried to defend but when Yoongi turned he showed the infant, her cheek squished up against his arm, her drool slowly seeping between parted lips. “Okay, maybe a little but she is also adorable.”

“All babies look like aliens when they are born,” you grinned.

“But do you love her, more than anything else in the world?” Jungkook giggled trying to make small talk while also projecting his newfound love for such a tiny being.

“We just met, I need some time to get to know her some more.” You joke playfully curled up on the couch Seokjin handing you some dinner and a cup of tea while the boys took turns meeting your daughter.

“It says in the paperwork she can have a bath tomorrow, and that her first poo might be really yucky.” Hoseok read the take-home leaflets from the hospital and constantly checked on his two girls making sure they were both safe and sound.

“Put her in outfits you don’t care if they get destroyed,” Yoongi was singing something to the child. It was low and rough. He was talking about dreams, freestyling about how your daughter didn’t need to go to university and that she didn’t have to know everything right at this moment.

Placing the little girl into Jimin’s waiting arms. His eyes sparkled and his lip dropped as he turned soft for the little girl.

“Hello, I am Uncle Jimin and I am going to spoil you so much.” His sweet voice gasped. He practically wiggled on the spot when she brought her fists up to her closed eyes and yawned. Taehyung was quietly snapping photos, careful not to use the flash as he didn’t want to hurt the baby's sensitive eyes, even while they were closed. He assured you, that he would get photos of everyone holding Seonhee. He had already captured Yoongi and was taking a few extra of Jimin with the small bundle.

It was honestly nice to see them all so supportive and there for your daughter. Images in your mind blooming of her first Christmas and birthday and all that would follow. Namjoon would buy her a green bike with flowers and tassels on the handles and Yoongi, helping assemble it before she woke up, attaching the training wheels for her safety.

Learning how to wrap people around her finger from her Uncle Jimin and then using it against them. She would be a dancer like her father and would light up the room. You could see her performing on a stage with the eight of you waiting with flowers to throw on stage. Maybe she wouldn’t win the first prize at her first show but they would still take her out for pizza and celebrate. Her skills would improve and the day she wins the trophy she would be lifted onto Seokjin’s shoulders.

Not noticing you had started crying until Namjoon pulled you into a hug. “Hey what’s got you so upset.”

“No, I am not upset, I was told that as my hormones go back to normal, I might cry and be more tired and moody and upset and I just,” Sniffing Jungkook handed over some tissues and hugging your back. The newer of the group Taehyung and Jungkook had just fit perfectly into the group, it was like they were always meant to be.

“Hey love,” Hoseok said, coming over to kneel at your feet holding your knees softly. "Tell me what made you so upset."

“I was thinking about her first Christmas and her first birthday and how you would all be here and she would be loved and…” Taking a sniff and pushing the tears from your eyes you looked up at them seriously. “You can never leave now, we are going to be one big family. I hope you know you are now each my daughter's uncles and therefore responsible to attend events. If you didn’t want to be a part of the family, I am sorry you are now my family.”

More tears shook your form. “You're the only family I have, I wasn’t exactly disowned more than I left when my mother told me not to have my sweet daughter. My precious baby deserves a big happy family and so I am sorry you are stuck with me.

“And don’t even think you are getting out of it.” You pointed at Taehyung and Jungkook, “You are my family now. Seonhee needs lots of uncles to protect her.”

“We aren’t leaving,” Seokjin grinned, taking a turn holding the wiggling bundle, smiling for a picture, and looking at her. “She will be a heartbreaker.”

The first couple of weeks were a learning curve filled with broken sleep, reheated meals courtesy of Seokjin, and constant fatigue looming over your head. Jimin appeared one-afternoon Taehyung, Namjoon and Yoongi apprehended your daughter. Settling her into a baby carrier strapped to Namjoon’s chest. The thick bodyguard looked a little silly with a tiny child nestled against his pecs.

Seonhee was wearing a new outfit from her uncle Jimin. It was a sweet-footed onesie with bear ears warm enough for a day out in the park. Kicked out of the house by Jimin who stressed how much you needed a break. Hoseok was at work while you were still on leave which meant you took the larger portion of the home and baby duties.

Mostly because you were at home all day, but also not wanting to interfere with his sleep schedule seeing as he was going to an actual job that needed proper attention. There wasn’t even a moment of hesitation from Jimin as he dragged you into the bathroom and started the bath filling it with a generous amount of bubble bath. It was the sleepy-time product you had chosen for your baby, emitting a soft lavender scent.

“You relax and I will wash your hair.” He smiled and he massaged your scalp to help relieve any tension, after washing out all your hair products he took your skincare products letting you lay in the bubbles as he pampered you. “You are such a good mum, you are doing amazing.”

“I hope so,” you yawned.

You stepped out of the tub, quickly wrapping yourself into the fluffy robe you hadn’t used in a while. Then sat down on your bed whilst Jimin dried and styled your hair. The others had returned, poking their heads into the room and smiling at your new refreshed look. You quickly fed your daughter while Jimin braided your hair securely.

“You rest okay, we will watch her until Hoseok comes home. Don’t worry we will come to you if we are unsure about anything and for food times.” Yoongi said playing some soft tranquil music on the small speaker by your bed.

It seemed pointless. Laying there believing it impossible to fall asleep. As you walked past the clock reading half-past one, your stomach rumbled in a gentle protest. Before you could even think of the food you wanted to get dressed, pulling on a white crop top and a baggy overall dress. Something easy to breastfeed in. It was definitely time as your breasts were heavier with milk.

Walking out you poured yourself a glass of juice and scooped up your fussing daughter, stomach growling again. Yoongi stood up marching into the kitchen, rapidly chopping ingredients. Soon the house was filled with a savory aroma and the glorious sound of oil sizzling.

Hoseok was having his first afternoon with Seonhee. You were going for a checkup. Jungkook was free and agreed to accompany you to your appointment, he almost paled when he saw the equipment on the table for your checkup. It made for a good laugh and endless teasing during your small coffee date afterward.

Jungkook’s phone buzzed and he grinned texting back quickly. “Ooh, what or who is making you smile so big?”

“Uh, I just got a funny text from Namjoon. Apparently, Hoseok asked for company so Namjoon and Yoongi stopped by the house after their errands.” He laughed, nose scrunching showing off his front teeth. “And well, your daughter may have accidentally had a poo explosion. So far from the pictures I have seen, Yoongi and Hoseok are covered in it. And while trying to help Namjoon dropped a whole bottle of baby powder and they are vacuuming the carpet.”

“Jimin and Taehyung agreed to pick up some more and I have been asked to keep you busy,” Your smile growing the more you heard, of course, they would make a mess on your first day out. Expecting something chaotic to happen but never something as funny as this.

“I am just glad it is something like this and not that someone is sick or hurt,” You smiled while eating a strawberry cheesecake and sipping coffee. Not making any move of leaving early and relieving them of their duty. It was a right of passage and showed just how much you trusted them. Hearing that something happened and not jumping to take over.

“They said not to tell you, but how could I not?” Jungkook turned his phone showing you some photos worthy of scrapbooking, the kind you would take out for Seonhee’s twenty-first and a story she would get sick of hearing at every family gathering. “Look at them.”

“Well while they are busy, how about we go grocery shopping? I think perhaps we can make something delicious for dinner,” Standing and collecting your jacket from your chair, and leading the way. Jungkook followed listening to your concerns about your weight and figure, he assured you how good you were looking and even offered to personally train you at 21, the gym.

Seonhee was growing steadily. Each milestone leading into the next, she would roll over and had started to crawl. Finding herself putting things she shouldn’t in her mouth. Going back to work was hard for the first few days, leaving Seonhee at the daycare was easy but she became more clingy when she came home. It was her way of coping with the separation that came with daycare and full-time work but eventually, Seonhee got into a routine.

Understanding that her parents were always coming back made everything in the house run a lot smoother. She had a small handful of sounds, mostly eomma, appa.

Work was a lot more tolerable and dare you to say fun. Jimin had quit his sugar baby gig and joined the company working alongside you. Sure he had broken a few hearts by canceling his service but he was happier. He never explicitly said it but you believed he was trying to be more independent and above everything else make himself more approachable to Taehyung.

Taehyung however left for a while, he had been away working with a few celebrities and luxury brands, photographing concepts, photos, and more. He had been pushing and working harder and harder as the days passed until he traveled away for his latest project.

It was a little sad that they weren’t together but you could see the longing in Jimin’s eyes whenever he replayed Taehyung’s Instagram story. Dragging him from his desk to have lunch together and distract him from the thoughts spinning around in his head.

December marked eleven months since Seonhee was born. Cruising against the couch and cabinets opening things she shouldn’t. You had invested in baby locks and a small playpen. Neither really did much as she knew how to push the whole contraption across carpet and tiles to get into things.

Mostly she would follow you to the kitchen hoping to get teething biscuits or any other treats her father would sneak her. He was never able to say no and you often found them sneaking snacks together where he would give you his big eyes and pouty lips claiming that she deserved a snack.

Christmas had your house filled to the brim with presents and boys, Seokjin was cooking in the kitchen with Yoongi’s help while Jimin and Jungkook were playing with Seonhee. Hoseok was helping Namjoon into a Santa costume in the backyard. No one had heard from Taehyung. You assumed he was busy with work and that he would be unable to make it.

There was a knock and Jungkook raced to answer it and laughed, “Finally, I thought you were skipping out on the family Christmas.”

“I wouldn’t skip out on the family Christmas, you are my favorite family,” Taehyung said handing over a suitcase to Jungkook and carrying in some bags of wrapped gifts, placing them under the tree. “Look at you, you have gotten so big!”

Namjoon Santa came in and delivered gifts and ran off getting changed only to come back and watch the gift unwrapping. Jungkook went to collect the two eldest from the kitchen, pushing Seokjin before dragging Yoongi out the two stopping in the archway.

“Hey, you are under the mistletoe!” Jimin giggled, proud that his trap had worked, he was hoping that some people would get stuck under it. “You are going to have to kiss.”

“We don’t have to, we are watching Seonhee open her gifts,” Jungkook said only to be grabbed by Yoongi who kissed the younger male and pulled away.

“Satisfied.” Yoongi turned back to the young girl opening her presents, Namjoon got her some picture books and a few educational toys. Seokjin had wrapped a small toy kitchen that was her size. Yoongi brought her to everyone’s surprise a little clam pool and some plastic toys to play with.

Jimin brought her a whole lot of princess dresses, tiaras, and fairy wings. Jungkook got her a cozy coupe red and yellow plastic car that she could push around with her legs. Taehyung handed her the small gift bag and inside was a night light that made the roof look like a galaxy and played soft music.

After Seonhee’s gifts from the boys, Hoseok brought out a box. He was struggling with it but when he opened it out popped a little dog who began licking her cheeks and wagging his tail intensely amongst the large group. “His name is Mickey.” Hoseok grinned watching Taehyung taking pictures and smiling fondly as she giggled.

Other gifts were exchanged, the most notable was Seokjin giving everyone matching sweaters with his face on it, and Taehyung’s gift to Jimin. It was a small bag and inside was the signature Tiffany blue colored box.

“You didn’t have to,” Jimin said softly and Taehyung smiled.

“I told myself I would support you, and I know you didn’t want to be treated like a sugar baby, I just told myself that I wouldn’t allow myself to date until I got you those earrings you really wanted. I wanted to give you something you could be proud of.” Taehyung explained, “And it was so hard to resist you when you kept inviting me over.”

Opening the box Jimin saw the earrings he had once mentioned ages back, the exact earrings Taehyung had handmade for him. “Now you can get rid of the ones I made you, they look horrible compared to these.

“I still love the ones you made and I will keep them forever.”

“I won’t treat you like a sugar baby anymore, I wanted to ask if maybe you wanted to go on a date.”

“Well, these earrings will get you about five dates.” Jimin giggled cheekily

“Five I thought for sure it would be five and a half?”

“Five and a free butt grab?”

“Deal!”

The nine of you were walking through the kid's attractions at the theme park seeing some familiar faces, you were having lunch when some music started playing. It was the theme park's dance parade and Hoseok was dragged into the dance by Taeyong.

You were giggling when WinWin dragged you up dancing with you and turned to see Hoseok on one knee, a ring box opened in his hands. You felt your chest about to explode as you tackled him to the ground sobbing in his chest. “Hoseok really, you mean it?”

“Of course, I mean it, I have loved you for years.”

“I love you so much, hell freaking yes put that ring on me, quick quick.” You kissed his face nonstop giggling between your tears. He was finally able to get the ring onto the designated finger standing and pulling you onto your feet. He kissed you passionately, you pulled back burying your face in his chest squealing.

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