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#even though I wasn’t eating more or anything
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Don't Speak 45
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Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, stalking, manipulation, reclusive behaviour, disordered eating, dissociation, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: Reader is a reclusive loner who ventures down to the library on a simple mission. Her task is complicated by the man she meets there. (f!short!reader)
Character: librarian!Andy Barber
Note: took a while.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me 
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)
Love you all. Take care. 💖
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When Ann leaves, you don’t move. You can’t. The ceiling light shines down on you, glimmering with your tears as they tremble along your eyelids. 
Naked and used, you melt into the mattress, a part of it, a thing just like it. You don’t know how long you stay like that. The white ceiling turns your vision spotty as your eyes go out of focus. No sounds can reach you as your ears close to the world. Your existence is empty. You are the toy Ann claimed you as. 
Your eyes close out of sheer exhaustion. Your head thumps with the shallow sleep that falls upon you. It’s less than restful, more an unfeeling trance, as you stay torturously chained to your reality. 
There’s a creak and a click. You feel a shift and something warm touches your arm. A rustle sends a shiver across your body and warmth settles over you. Your eyes roll open as a figure sits at the edge of the bed. You wince as Steve’s large hand closes around your shoulder. He squeezes as he gazes down at you. 
“You need anything, sweetie?” He asks softly. 
You don’t answer. You just blink. He exhales and lets you go as he stands. He turns on the lamp and retreats to shut off the overhead light. He returns to you as a hazy shadow. 
He lowers himself again, the bed dipping beneath him. You struggle to move your stiff arms, hugging yourself beneath the blanket as your teeth chatter. He tickles along your forehead and hums. 
“I’m sorry about Ann,” he says, “she shouldn’t have said all that.” 
You stare up at him. It’s okay. Is it? You don’t know. 
“I... you know you’re more to me than that, right?” He pets your cheek. His touch doesn’t make your skin crawl like Ann’s. His body heat melds into you, enshrining you. You can’t help but lean into his hand. “You liked it, didn’t you? You wanted it? I felt you. I felt how much you liked it.” 
You lower your lashes and wiggle your nose. You nod. Even then, a flicker of the thrill rises in you at the though of him inside of you. It wasn’t bad at all. Scary but not bad. Not compared to Andy. 
“I shouldn’t have run away like that, honey--” 
You flinch and grab his hand. You latch on tightly and shake your head, “don’t... don’t call me honey.” 
His cheeks dimple and his eyes brows slant. His expression softens and he nods, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.” 
“It’s okay,” you croak, clinging to his hand as you feel his thick fingers. He’s so much bigger than you but it doesn’t scare you. 
“I meant to stay. I wanted to. To hold you but I... Ann can be a lot, can’t she?” 
Your eyes round and you clamp your lips shut. You don’t say a word. He curls his fingers around the tips of yours. 
“Did she hurt you?” He rasps. 
You look at him. He’s so handsome. Just as handsome as always. 
“A little,” you murmur. 
His face falls and he dips his head down. He lets out a long breath, “I won’t let her do that again.” 
“Okay,” your eyes wander over to watch his hand. The way he holds onto you makes your insides dance. 
“Sweetie,” he intones, “can I.... can I hold you now?” 
Your gaze flits back to him. You quiver as you bob your head up and down, “please.” 
A soft smile curls his lips. He shifts carefully and reluctantly untangles his hand from yours. He lifts the edge of the blanket as he angles his body straight, parallel to yours. He wears only a pair of boxers and a dark red tee. 
As he rests on his shoulder, he leans back to the lamp and flicks the switch. The room darkens as he rolls back to you. He slides his arm beneath you, jostling you just a little. He presses flush to your side and rests his other hand on your stomach. 
“How’s that, sweetie?” 
You shiver and turn onto your side. You loop your arm around him and nestle your head against his chest. You wiggle closer, desperately holding onto him as you close your eyes.  
“I like it,” you inhale his scent, the faint medley of cologne and his sweat. 
“I like it too,” he runs his hand up and down your back.  
You press your hand to his back, “next time... can it just be us?” 
He’s quiet. You can hear his heart beat and your own. His hand crawls up to pet your head. 
“Sure, sweetie, we can figure it out.” 
🕊️
You’re awaken as Steve lets in a flow of cold air. Your arm slips limply onto the bed as he stands in the pale dim, the curtains lit by early morning. You murmur and rub your sleepy eyes as you sit up. 
“Sweetie,” he reaches to tug the blanket up your torso, “you should cover up.” 
You hug the blanket in embarrassment and keep it above your chest. He pushes his hair back and sniffs, inhaling deeply before huffing it out. You shimmy to the edge of the bed as he backs away. 
“Steve?” You babble dumbly. 
“Gotta get breakfast for the kids,” he keeps his voice low. He stops near the foot of the bed, “you should stay in here. I’ll bring you some.” 
“Oh?” You utter. 
“You had a long night,” he says, “and they’re loud in the mornings. Once Ann takes them off to school, we can... we can be together.” 
You hang your head, “okay.” 
“Promise,” he avows, “you need to sleep, huh?” 
You nod and lay back down. He clears his throat and you listen to his footfalls retreat to the door. He opens and shuts it softly. You curl up on your side and watch the shadows that line the baseboards. 
You just need to wait. That’s all. He’ll be back and then you can be together. Just you two. 
Your breath catches as the night before flood into your mind. Ann’s dusky voice tickles up the shell of your ear and her words make you shrink. The way she spoke, not just what she said, it made you feel so small, like nothing. To her, you were just a thing to be used and that’s what she did. 
You close your eyes and pull the blanket tight. You think of Steve and the warmth of him chases away the icy memories. You remember how his cheeks were slightly rosy and the way he felt buried in you. You made him like that. You made him grunt and groan and then he... finished. Inside of you. 
You reach down between your legs and delve your fingers between your folds. You bite your lip and hum. You press your fingers against your clit as it thrums and clamp your hand between your thighs. You keep it there as your body relaxes. Thoughts of Steve coax you back into a half-sleep. 
Between fantasies of his hands and his chest and his smile, you hear voices. Some chirpy, some even, all muffled on the other side of the walls and your subconscious. You sway on the tide of your fatigue, letting it carry you away from the turmoil storming at the back of your mind. 
When you’re next awoken, it’s Steve. As promised, he has breakfast. He sets a plate on the night table and pulls open the curtains tot let in the day. You sit up and the blanket once more unveils your nakedness. It doesn’t bother you like it used to. 
“Sweetie,” he sighs. 
He goes around the bed and finds your duffle on the chair. He takes out one of your shirts and brings it to you. You look down meekly and pull it on. 
“Hope you like pancakes,” he says as he sits on the edge of the bed and takes the plate. He puts it in your lap as you grip it by the edges. You look down at the little flapjacks stamped with the image of a cartoon dog. It makes you feel strange. He has kids... 
“Yeah, I like them,” you sniff and let the plate balance on your legs. You take the cutlery and cut into the fluffy batter. 
“Admittedly, I’m a low effort cook,” he chuckles as he puts his hand on your knee, squeezing through the quilt, “but the syrup’s from Quebec and the blueberries are straight from the grove. Ann and her ladies go berry picking on Sundays.” 
At the mention of his wife, you shrink. You focus on eating as you stomach strips itself from the inside. Before, your appetite was barely a tickle, now it’s vociferous. You’d mostly pushed around the dinner they served last night. 
“That’s nice,” you wisp. 
He’s quiet, rubbing your leg as you chew. 
“What’s going on? You okay?” 
You swallow and take another bite. You need time to figure that out. You don’t think you’ll do that any time soon. 
“I just want to be with you,” you say as you raise your chin, your eyes meeting his. 
He considers you, his lips thinning and slanting. 
“I know. And... I know this isn’t exactly how you pictured it.” 
“Why didn’t...” you begin, pausing to cute another square of pancake. You dab it in the syrup as you bite down on your courage, “why didn’t you tell me you’re married?” 
He’s quiet again. You peek up at him as he stares down. You look at his hand. A golden ring wraps around his finger. You point the fork at it. 
“You never wore that.” 
He tilts his head and takes a deep breath. He meets your eyes. He looks afraid. Of you. No one’s ever looked at you like that. 
“I know. I don’t wear it during session. I’m supposed to ask the questions so I try to be a non-entity with my patients. I’m there to listen,” he pinches the band and twists it, “and it’s... lighter without it.” 
You shove more pancake into your mouth. You frown. You look around the room; a house, a wife, kids... you don’t fit into any of it. 
“I should go home,” your voice cracks with the statement. It’s his turn to wince. 
“Home? You can’t go back to Andy.” 
“No, not there,” you say. 
A vee divets between his brows, “to Amber? No, I don’t think you’re ready for that.” 
“But this place--” 
“You’re welcome here, sweetie.” 
You deflate and poke at the pancakes. You’re not hungry anymore. You scrape the tines of the fork so the flapjack shreds to fluffy strips. 
“I’m just the same as I was anywhere. A burden.” 
“You’re not--” 
“I don’t want to do that again,” you snap. “Last night was... was.... scary.” 
“I know it was new, sweetie, but you had fun, didn’t you?” 
You part your lips and shrug. 
“You came. I felt it. You felt me too, didn’t you?” 
You gape at him. A tingle flows through you as you barely save the plate from sliding off your lap. You grasp it and close your mouth. 
“You did,” he affirms, “you want to be together, don’t you?” 
“Yes,” you whisper. 
“This is how we can be together.” 
“But Ann...” 
“I don’t think you’re seeing this the right way, sweetheart,” he reaches for the plate and you let him take it. He puts it on the table and sidles up the bed. He takes your hand and pulls it towards him. “Don’t look at Ann as just my wife, okay? She’s ours. All three of us are a unit. Think about it.” 
You suck in air and hold it in. Your pulse beats in your temple as you scrunch up your face. You let out the breath slowly as your eyes fall to his hand on yours. It didn’t feel like that when Andy held your head. That felt like a snare, like a cuff around your wrist, a chain tying you down. But when Steve touches you, when he just looks at you, you’re giddy and bright and safe. 
“Really?” You look up at him, “how does that work, though?” 
“Well, she’s my wife but you could be my wife too,” he explains, “and she’s your wife, I’m your husband but I’m hers too. There’s just three of us, sweetie. That’s all. And the kids, they love you.” 
“B-but...” you gulp, “but they’re not mine and... you can’t have two--” 
“Maybe not legally but that’s just paperwork. What right does the government have to tell us who to love,” he covers your hand with his other, rubbing it, “how about tonight, we’ll take it a bit slower, huh? I'll tell Ann to take it easy. It’ll all be up to you, sweetie, okay? You’re in charge.” 
“I... I guess I could... try?” You sputter. 
“Good,” he purrs, “you know, Ann really loves you.” 
“She does?” 
“Oh yeah, of course, and I know you can love her too,” he raises your hand and kisses your knuckles, “because I love both of you.” 
You stare at him, fixating on his lips as he lets your hand back down. You don’t care about all that other stuff, the touching, the licking, the rutting. You just want the little things. 
“What?” He asks, “did I miss something?” He pulls a hand away and wipes his chin, “I kinda scarfed everything down with the kids.” 
“No,” you breathe, “Steve?” Your eyes ping up to his, “I just... I just... I want a kiss. From you. I—It's all I ever wanted. I dreamt about it--” 
“About kissing me?” He giggles. 
“Mhmm,” you nod as you bite your lip. “Ever since... well... I shouldn’t say it.” 
“Since?” He prompts. 
You grin devilishly, “...Thanksgiving.” 
“Thanksgiving?” He repeats, “wow, well, can I tell you a secret?” 
“What?” 
“That’s all I could think about too,” he shifts, moving closer, “come here.” 
He brings his hand up under your chin. He leans in and you quiver, closing your eyes. His lips meet yours and sparks fly, all doubts dissipating. You touch his chest, feeling along the cotton of his shirt. You open your mouth and he accepts the invitation, his tongue invading hungrily as he eats you up. You tilt your head back as you hook your other arm around his neck. 
He parts, his forehead against yours and you puff up at him as he licks his lips, “mm, maple.” 
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alwaysonf1 · 2 days
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leak?
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Pairing: Charles LeClerc x Hamilton!OC
Genre: Slice of Life; Fluff
Word Count: 740
Warning: N/A
Rating: PG-13
Author's Note: Dates and times don't matter.
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“Calm down.”
“Don’t tell me to calm down. Do you see what’s trending right now?”
There’s a sigh over the phone and Iman feels bad, but not enough that her anxiety is subsiding or that she can apologize in the moment.
“Mon ange, it’s not even a good picture of us. Plus, would it be so bad?”
Yes, is on the tip of her tongue, but it wasn’t the truth. Iman had just hoped there would be more time before the world knew. She’s adept at handling the media frenzy because of how it was when the world found out she existed. But this was something so fresh and new. She didn’t want to have to share it with anyone.
“No, I just…” 
There are no words that come to mind. Logic is returning to her brain and she knows she’s being dramatic. Next to K-Pop stans, Formula 1 fans are creepy good at detective work. And one is always going to be around no matter where they are.
Also, she wasn’t completely bothered. There was a part of her that took joy in speculating that they were together. That he was her’s. It just isn’t strong enough to make the biggest impact in her head.
Iman sighs.
“Let them speculate. We don’t have to confirm anything.”
Another sigh.
She knows that he’s right, but she’d deluded herself into thinking that things could be chill. For at least a month. Or a week. But she’d found herself attached to Charles’ hip no matter how in public they were. There was some hope that if anything were to leak it would be her getting her ass handed to her in volleyball by Logan. It was ego bruising because she’s the one who played it through high school, but it was better than this.
“I know.”
“Then why all of this? You knew it would come eventually.”
“Not this quickly,” she mumbles.
There is a sound on the other end that sounds like a scoff. Iman has picked up when Charles is calling her out on her bullshit.
“I mean I could post that video of you falling on your face on the beach. That would get everyone’s attention,” Logan chimes in.
Iman’s eyes narrow as she turns to look at him leaning against her door frame snacking on popcorn. Lewis stands behind him with the bowl of popcorn that he’s been eating from.
Both idiots think her reaction is funny and have been watching her as she fights not to go into a spiral. Lewis has made comments about how she wasn’t even this bad when things got intense with the media after their episode. 
The urge to cuss them out presents itself, but Iman simply raises her hand with only one finger extended. Both of them react in faux shock and offense before falling into a giggling fit.
What she’d done to have this life she wasn’t sure, but goodness did it sometimes test her. 
“Mon ange…”
“Huh?”
Charles laughs. “I asked what you wanted to do. I want what makes you happy.”
For a second, she sits with her lips pursed as she thinks about it. They could get it out of the way, but it is much too soon to be making those kinds of announcements. Even if they’re both sure about this, it feels much too fast. Though Iman has to be honest in admitting that sometimes things move at a different pace when you’ve had years of friendship. And there are a few recent thoughts she’s had that are much faster than admitting to dating Charles Leclerc.
“Nothing.”
“Nothing?”
“For now, at least. If they catch something else and it goes crazy, we’ll just admit it. Or after like a month.”
“Okay, but mon ange, I’m not going to change my mind about you.”
Breathing becomes hard and Iman is barely able to tell him bye as they hang up the phone. Her phone drops from her hand and she falls back to fully lay on her bed. Butterflies are how she’d describe what she feels.
Laughter starts. At a speed that could give whiplash she turns her head and glares at the two pains in her ass.
“Get out!”
A pillow sails through the air and hits Lewis square in the face. Logan is gone before the other one can leave her hand and Lewis isn’t far behind him.
“Lord help me,” she says, sighing.
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logansargeant 2x national champ my ass.
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little-lost-lamb · 2 days
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The Sting of Envy
CW: GN!MC, hurt/comfort, angst, occult practice, fluff, mention of kids (kinda?), Demons Being Overall Taller Than Humans On Average, and - of course - jealousy. Please let me know if there is anything I didn't think to add!
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Of course you moved in with Solomon when you went back to the human realm. It only made sense; it’s a big realm after all, and you needed to be close to your teacher. To your demons, however, it was a decision that they did not like to think about. Would Solomon try something funny? What did you do together? Did you enjoy a level of domestic human bliss your demons could only dream of? Or were you largely independent of each other?
They’d probably be delusional if they thought this wasn’t right, that this isn’t where you actually belong. Safe, happy, with other humans. With Solomon. But your demons miss you desperately.
So when you invite everyone to a Beltane party to break in yours and Solomon’s new place together, even Barbatos arranges to ensure he and Diavolo can attend. No one would dare turn it down. Even if it results in envy eating away the very muscle of their hearts.
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Lucifer
His head is swimming from glass number…2…3? He had lost count of how many glasses of red wine he had drunk at this point, but certainly more than intended. How could he not? He had to drink to try to quell the emptiness he felt seeing you thrive here, without him. Don’t get him wrong, there’s pride in this as well - he’s always proud of you. So Proud. How independent you are here. You’re so capable, so strong. You don’t need him to protect you like he did in the Devildom.
As much as he would never admit it, he adored that dependency you had with him. But not here. This is your home, your domain. What hurts the most is that, if you do need help here, you won’t be summoning him - not unless it’s something very important. You’ll call Solomon. Your roommate. He can’t bear to think of this arrangement as anything but plutonic. But he wants you to know you can lean on him for anything.
The alcohol impedes his ability to bury these emotions in the backyard of his brain. They’re inescapable. He feels the familiar sting of tears threatening to form on his lash line. You don’t need him.
“Lucifer, I need you!” 
What? 
“Can you come here for a moment? I can’t reach this serving dish.” 
He stumbles slightly from the wine as he shuffles into your kitchen and watches as you balance unsteadily on one foot, reaching helplessly and futilely at a dish perched on the top shelf. Lucifer’s eyes flit back to Solomon, his nose in his own wine glass, chuckling obliviously at some joke form Asmodeus. He saunters to your side, almost huffing. 
“Why don’t you ask Solomon? It is his home after all.” he says, more pointedly than intended.
“Huh? Are you kidding? Look at this cabinet! He’s taller than I am, but he’s still an average-sized human. He can’t reach up here either. We usually have to get a ladder or use magic. I know you can reach it easily though. C’mon, or are you really going to make me go get the ladder when you’re right here?”
Lucifer sighs and shakes his head, but he can’t hide the prideful curve of his lips. He approaches you from behind, softly resting one hand on your  waist  as he effortlessly grabs the dish and sets it gently down on the counter in front of you.
“Besides,” You lean your weight back into him, craning your neck back to plant a soft kiss on his cheek. “I would rather you be the one to help me. I’ll always come to you for help when I need it.”
He blinks rapidly a few times, fighting the sting of his lash line once more as he wraps his arms around you and buries his face in the warmth of your neck
“Say it again.”
Mammon
“I have a little Beltane gift for you, MC.” Mammon’s ear perks up as overhears Solomon talking about gifts. It had better not be cooler than mine, he thinks, thumbing over his own gift for you hidden in his pocket. 
He can’t help but to peek around the corner to check out this inferior gift of Solomon’s. Mammon immediately feels put to shame by the presentation alone. The box is wrapped in brown paper, twine, and pressed human realm wildflowers, probably picked by Solomon himself. Fuck.
“Oh, no, I wish I had known!” Your brow furrows as you look up at Solomon. “I...didn’t get you anything.”
“Unnecessary.” Solomon assures you. “It’s nothing big, just something I noticed you needed.”
You smile at him and shyly open the gift, carefully handling the flowers and setting them aside to keep. Instead of an expression of delight at the box’s contents, your face falls into an expression that can best be described as guilt. 
“Solomon, I…this is so nice. Too nice. I couldn’t possibly accept something like this without having gotten you anything!” 
Humble as ever, Mammon thought, as you pulled out a new pair of leather boots. They seemed cool, well-made, designer. Not that you ever really cared about that stuff. You were modest and practical, and Mammon admired you for it. He wished he could be like you in this way. Of course, he could never turn down free designer boots. 
“MC. I have had 3000 years for my fortune to collect interest. I can absolutely afford to replace your boots - which you have worn the soles out of, by the way. Don’t think I didn’t notice. You needed new ones. Please allow me this.” Solomon softly grasped your hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.
Mammon felt like he had been punched in the gut. “Interest” is a concept barely comprehensible to him. More familiar concepts are: “debt,” and “overdraft.” Broke. He wished he could give you anything - everything. He would spend every cent he had to adorn you in the most stylish clothes, the comfiest shoes, the shiniest jewels. He'd take you on luxurious vacations, just the two of you, to the most romantic locations in the demon realm. He would spoil you rotten. But he couldn’t - not like Solomon could. Solomon, who lives here, in this modest home with you, living like he doesn’t have a royal fortune on reserve somewhere (somewhere Mammon desperately wished he could get his hands on.) Solomon, who doesn’t waste every grimm he has gambling and splurging until he is broke enough to wait tables in a seductive bunny outfit and appease giggling, gawking beings who are not you.
Suddenly, the baggy in his pocket felt like a boulder. In actuality, the baggie’s contents are lightweight, small, and…free. But he’ll be damned to the circles before he gives up an opportunity to spoil you. 
He waits for a rare moment when you are alone, preparing something in the kitchen for the party, then he makes his move.
“MC.” 
You turn to him as he calls you, your face lighting up by his mere presence. And of course you would be happy by the presence of the Great Mammon, your first man. And maybe that would count for something when you open his gift, paling in comparison to the one just presented by Solomon. His cheeks tinge as he holds out the bag, rubbing the back of his neck shyly with his free hand. 
“Here. For you. Think of it as a gift for the host.”
“Oh, Mamms! You didn’t have to do thi-...” You’re rendered silent as you pull out a delicate, homemade bracelet. Your smile again drops, but this time it morphs into an expression of awe. You inspect it closer, sliding the colorful beads of a friendship bracelet until you reach letters.
T - R - E - A - S - U - R - E
“Mammon…”
“I-It ain’t  much! I know it ain’t, not what ya deserve, but… My luck was lousy at the track this weekend. I didn’t have much left, but I still wanted to get ya somethin’. Borrowed some stuff from Levi. He makes things like this for his “faves, waifus, husbandos,” or whatever, and he wears ‘em to think about ‘em.  I thought maybe…you could do that t-...”
Suddenly the wind is knocked from his lungs as you throw yourself at him, flinging your arms tight around his waist.
“I love it. I love it so much. I’m going to wear it every day we’re apart. Would you put it on for me?”
Mammon makes no effort to hide his satisfied grin. He slides on your homemade friendship bracelet, made with all the love in his heart, while the expensive new boots Solomon gifted you lay untouched in the box next to your shoe rack.
Leviathan
It’s too much. It’s all too much. Levi groans and clenches his stomach, the discomfort on his face apparent.
“I…ugh…I’ll be back. Where’s the bathroom?” Levi quickly darts in the direction Solomon casually points as Asmodeus calls after him, frustration in his tone. ���I told you not to eat the leftover rainbow pizza when you knew we were about to come here to eat!”
“Yeah,” chimed Beel, “I wanted it to tide me over until dinner.” Beel clenched his own stomach, though likely feeling a different kind of discomfort than Leviathan. Levi doesn’t look back as he storms into the bathroom and slams the door behind him.
“Hey! Easy!” he hears Solomon’s muffled scorn, but he doesn’t care. Not when he is in so much agony. 
“It hurts, fuck…” He clenches the lip of the sink, desperately trying to control himself. And it would be so much easier if everyone else could get it together. Every one of them, he felt all of it; every one of them, all at once, seething with envy. The air was practically miasmic with it, and he had to feel the envy of all. of. them. His own was unbearable enough. He raised his face to the mirror, examining his red-tinged sclera and furrowed brows. Then something more interesting catches his tearing eyes.
No. No no no. Are you kidding him? Toothbrushes. Two toothbrushes, one no doubt Solomon’s…and one yours. The mug they’re in, is that…a Disney World cup? Did he take you to DISNEY WORLD?? The cute, fantastical mouse-themed amusement park in the human world? Where you wear matching outfits and hold hands and ride ridES AND BUY MERCH AND EAT JUNK FOOD AND…
He could feel himself hyperventilating until he finally lost control of his human form, his tailing unfurling and his horns erupting from his messy hair. 
He wanted to go to the mouse park with you! HIM! He wanted to share a toothbrush cup and home and host a dinner for his family with you! IT SHOULD BE HIM!!! 
Before his mind even knew what his body was doing, he found himself curling pathetically up into your bathtub. He spotted a pink bottle of something on the edge, and as he rested his head against the porcelain, he caught a whiff of the gloopy substance inside. It was shampoo. It smelled like you. And Solomon got to smell it every day.
It was the last thing he needed to send him over the edge. The anger of the envy he felt fizzled up all at once, leaving nothing but the despair. He choked out a muffled sob, one he futilely tried to catch with his hand before it fell through his fingers. He curled up tighter around himself and sobbed softly, just begging that no one hear him.
Knock knock knock knock.
He ignores it. That is, until he hears the door gently open. He seriously forgot to lock the door?! Way to go, Levi!
“Levi.” You step in and close the door behind you, looking at him sympathetically. There isn’t an ounce of surprise on your visage seeing him curled up in the tub. “What’s going on?”
He hides his face again, hoping you didn’t see his tear stained cheeks. Suddenly, he feels you step into the porcelain, lay down, and wrap yourself around him.
“I’m sorry it’s not very clean in here. I didn’t really expect any of you to go into the tub.” You squeeze him ever so much tighter. “You’re hurting me, did you realize that?”
“I…what?”
He flinches as you curl down the waist of your pants - just enough for his pact mark to peak out from the waistband. The skin around the sigil is red and agitated, as if it had been freshly branded onto you all over again. His mark, as he knew well, was the biggest you had, enveloping your hip and thigh. After Mammon greedily claimed the space over your heart, his jealousy made sure his was the biggest one you’d ever have. He watches you wince slightly as you pull the band back up over your stomach and feather your fingers over your thigh. 
“It’s hurting my heart too. To feel you hurting like this.”
“Disney.”
“…Disney?”
Levi sighs and hesitantly glances at you from his periphery.
“Everyone is so jealous right now. All of them. Even Barbatos! It’s suffocating me. They’re probably jealous of you being here, living with Solomon, and him having you all to himself. He’s shady, who knows what he’ll try! And I’m jealous too, you know! Of course I am! And then…then I saw your toothbrushes. And your cup. You must have gone together. And I want to go with you…” 
His voice fades to a whisper, every ounce of his energy sapped by the envy radiating within the house. You are quiet for a moment.
“Do you know why he took me?”
 Levi barely cared, but he listened anyway. 
“Barbatos stopped by one day. He had some kind of business with Three Crows and took the opportunity to say hello. He mentioned that Diavolo and you guys were all at Devilcat Land that day. After Barb left, I was so sad, wishing I could have been there with everyone. With you.”
This got Levi’s attention, and he huffs out a short burst of disbelieving laughter.
“We had to leave early because I started crying on the teacups. It made me think about that time,” you interrupt yourself with an involuntary chuckle, "that you spun our cup so fast that Lucifer threw up! The Avatar of Pride! Spun a little too fast and threw up in a Devilcat trash can!” 
Levi softens, laughing with you, his grip around you tightening.
“Don’t be jealous.” You press a soft, sweet kiss against his lips, wet with tears. “Because I miss you every day.”
Satan
He knew he must have mirrored Lucifer’s body language, brooding over his glass of red wine, but he was too mad to care. Maybe “mad” wasn't precise. His eyes went to Levi, his face contorted with some sort of discomfort and clutching his stomach. Asmodeus made  a comment about Levi’s upset stomach, but Satan was too emotionally intelligent to believe it was his lunch from earlier that ails him: he must be overwhelmed by everyone’s envy.  Levi’s. The rest of his brothers’. Satan’s.
Satan kept it hidden well, of course. It was what he did constantly and what he did best - keeping his emotions in check. His expression had yet to falter and his tail remained concealed as he perused the selection of your bookshelf. He allowed himself a subtle smile, seeing some of the books he had loaned you. He spies a few books that seem like human realm bestsellers he didn’t recognize, but he hoped you’d loan him later if they were any good. He trusted your taste in literature. A few magical reference books, and…oh please… The Lesser Key of Solomon. He couldn’t help but roll his eyes. How pompous to have a copy of your own book in your own house. He could feel his irritation rising.
“MEOW.”
His head immediately snaps to the source of the familiar sound. A small, adorable, yellow cat prances right up Solomon, nuzzling his precious fluffy face on his leg. Solomon shifts his attention to the cat and scritches his chin. “Oh! There you are.”
Satan’s head goes fuzzy, his ears buzz, and his heart practically drops into his feet. This was it.  He felt the barbs of his tail flick against his ankle and fortunately had the wherewithal to wrap it around his leg before it hurt someone. He stares, jaw hanging, mouth agape. You have a cat together.
“You…have a cat together…” His tone is somewhere between a question and a statement. The displeasure is now apparent on his face. 
They have a cat together.
“No!”  Satan is grounded by your cry and the thunder of legs pattering down the stairs. “He was supposed to be a surprise!” You hurry down in a frazzled state and scoop the cat up into your arms.
“Tch. He’s not my cat.” Solomon finally teases. “He’s mostly MC’s. We found him wandering outside soon after we moved in here. Ask MC what they named him. I wanted to name him Abraham.” 
Still, Solomon stares fondly at the cat, and holds his paw between his thumb and index fingers. For a moment, it almost sounded like Solomon’s tone had a hint of jealousy of its own. You carry the bundle of fluff over to Satan. You give the kitty a loving kiss on the forehead before passing him to Satan’s oh-so-eager arms. Satan runs a finger over the cat’s green collar until he finds the name tag. He flips over the little silver fish to reveal the cat’s name.
Satan Jr.
The flush on Satan’s cheeks creep across his entire face, ears and all. 
“I know Lucifer won’t let you keep one, not after the incident. I thought, maybe…he could be our cat. And, you know, mostly live with me. But still!”
Satan peered down wide-eyed at the bundle of fluff, already so comfortable in his arms. Satan Jr.? Theirs?? It felt almost like…this cat was their child. In an instant, every ounce of fury that had built up in his body was transmuted to bliss. He arranged Satan Jr. in his arms so he was pressed against his chest, caressing him like he might his own spawn.
“Then I suppose we have a cat together.”
He tried to play it cool, but you couldn’t help but chuckle at the unbridled joy on his face and the brightness in his smile.
Asmodeus
He is definitely seeing something he shouldn’t - but he can’t look away.
It’s perhaps one of the most beautifully surreal scenes he’s witnessed since his time in the Celestial Realm, yet it’s so unapologetically human.
He had initially been drawn to the sound of your sweet voice, singing as clear as crystal rims in the echoes of the kitchen while you watched over the honey cakes in the oven. He was pulled in as if it were a siren’s song, but it wasn’t. It was beautiful you. 
He stopped himself from joining you when he heard Solomon’s voice, equally beautiful and equally moving, begin to duet your own. 
Perhaps the song had started one day as one of you overhearing the other, recognizing the melody, and clumsily singing along. Now, however, it was like some kind of hauntingly beautiful mating call between two human lovers. Your voices were intertwined, complimenting each other, rehearsed. You two must have sung this together often.
Asmodeus couldn’t help but peek at his two favorite humans in the kitchen, but now he almost wishes he hadn’t. 
Because what he sees when he peers in is the two of you, dancing slowly and softly together as you sing your beautiful melody to each other. Solomon smiles and stares lovingly into your eyes as your cheeks flush and you sing your line. The adoration in Solomon’s gaze is unmistakable. His hand in your hand, Solomon softly rocks you to the music the two of you create together. The golden hour sun lights up every single color on your irises and peppers your skin with the rainbows from the suncatchers you’ve hung in the kitchen window. 
From the open window pours a warm spring breeze that lifts your hair to dance in the currents, and assaults Asmodeus’ face with the sweet scent of spring flowers and…you. 
It is ethereal. 
To see such beauty completely removed from himself begins to arouse envy in his chest. This kind of beauty is unique to humanity, and he cannot be a part of it. But it is not you he is envious of.
Asmodeus loved Solomon. He did. But he had felt the kind of love he feels with Solomon before and will likely feel it again. You, though. You. You made him experience that agony and euphoria of being in love. A feeling he thought he was completely incapable of. Until you.
But if his favorite humans were mates, then…that made sense right? You make sense together. And Asmodeus could have his pick of anyone else in the three realms. Maybe he could even convince the two of you to let him in on things. So why did it hurt so much?
“Apologies, darling apprentice, but I saw your grimoire open this morning. You’re working on a Beltane ritual, yes?”
The singing stopped, but Solomon’s grip on you remained. Asmo could still hear Solomon’s voice despite his hushed tone, because he could pick up the tone of seduction anywhere. While ordinarily Asmodeus would appreciate the game, the honey in Solomon’s words to you made him sick. 
Even as a human realm holiday, Asmodeus had heard of Baltane. This one, after all, was adjacent to his domain: a holiday of flames, fertility, and…
“I could help, if you’d like me too. We can even jump over the flame together this year. Wouldn’t that be fun? Then, once we prepare, we can perform the ritual.” Though Solomon whispers against your ear, Asmodeus can faintly make out Solomon purring, “Sex magic is very powerful.”
And with that, Asmodeus was gone. He’d already seen too much. 
After dinner, as Asmo shoved his arm through the white, leather sleeve of his jacket to leave, he wondered how he could distract himself from yours and Solomon’s…ritual…later. Perhaps he could find someone at The Fall to drown his sorrows in. After all, it’s not like you and Asmo were exclusive. You could fuck whoever you wanted and he wouldn’t care, he lied to himself. He’s shaken from his jealous slurry of thoughts by a warm hand on his forearm.
“Asmo, wait!”
He takes a deep breath before turning to face you. “I had a great time tonight, hun, thanks for inviting us! I have to get going, but-“
“I need your help with a ritual tonight!” 
Your cheeks flush and your eyes sparkle as you look at him. You’re projecting an air of shyness, but Asmodeus can smell it in your pheromones, no mistake. Lust. You were simply adorable. “P-please.”
Ah, interesting. So the ritual wasn’t meant to be performed with Solomon. It never was. How embarrassing for Solomon. Amusement dances in his eyes thinking about you rejecting his advance mere moments after he had walked away. Solomon would be spending the night of Beltane alone, while Asmo…
The corners of Asmodeus’ mouth curl into a dangerous smile and he gently pulls you into him by your hips.
“It’s Beltane, is it not? What kind of ritual could you need me for, darling?”
You’re silent a moment, the blush dusting your cheeks deepening by the second. “It’s Beltane.” You respond.
“Well, well…” You could practically see the hearts in his eyes just before he gently pulled your mouth to his, capturing your lips in a deep, passionate kiss. He murmurs against your lips in a deep, seductive tone, “Blessed Beltane.”
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sister-lucifer · 3 days
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A Lovely Awakening: A Preview
Cws: consensual somno, trans masc reader, needy Toby
A/N: this is a WIP from literal years ago that i found, enjoy. definitely will be finishing this
God, you looked so soft when you slept. 
That was the only word to describe it. Soft.  
So unbearably soft that your perfect skin begged for Toby’s touch. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been staring at you from the doorway, but even he knew it was becoming a little unsettling. He found it hard to move, though, as was debating with himself quite harshly at the moment. 
He wanted to reach out and run his hands over you, to feel you the way he knew you’d let him, but he wouldn’t dare wake you. You’d had such a long day, you deserved the nap, but… 
Fuck, he was so needy. 
He thought back to the conversation you’d had a few days prior when he’d shyly approached you with the idea of waking you up by eating you out, or even just touching you while you slept. There was no nice way to ask a question like that, and it took a lot of your restraint to keep from pointing out how red in the face he was, though you couldn’t blame him. He certainly wasn’t expecting you to respond the way you did.
“Toby, you don’t have to be so embarrassed,” You had assured him, “It’s okay if you need me while I’m asleep.” 
He remembered the way you’d ruffled his hair and kissed his forehead in an attempt to calm his nerves. 
“That sounds like a lovely idea, sweetheart. I’d be more than happy to allow you that.” 
The nickname made his heart skip a beat. He loved when you used that soft tone with him, always accompanied by a hug or gentle kiss. 
You’d talked a bit more about it after that, smoothing out some of the finer details and assuring Toby many times that you were not only comfortable with but excited about the idea. 
And yet, he was still worried.
He had no reason to be, really, but he didn’t want to do anything wrong. He didn’t want to—God forbid—scare you off, even if you’d said it yourself that he could never do that. 
He sighed as he approached your sleeping form, looking over you again. Your shirt had been pushed up to your chest, exposing your perfect tummy that he loved so much. You’d kicked off most of your blankets which were now laying around you if they hadn’t already fallen to the floor. Your chest rose and fell slowly with each of your quiet breaths. 
Soft. 
That’s how you felt under his hands when he finally reached out to touch you, tracing the tips of his fingers from your chest down to your stomach, pulling away when he reached the waistband of your sweatpants. 
Wrong, he thinks, it’s wrong for me to want this, isn’t it? 
But he can’t make himself completely agree. 
He keeps thinking about that endlessly kind smile you gave him, the one that eased all his nerves and melted his anxiety down to nothing after he awkwardly stuttered out his proposition. You were being so genuine, without a hint of disgust or judgement swirling in the back of your beautiful eyes. 
Before he can think his hands are back on you, gently sliding up and down your sides and pushing your shirt up a bit further. 
God, you are so soft. 
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bwabys-scenarios · 16 hours
Note
Can we see a chubby!reader who maybe doesn't know that Feitan is part of the phantom troupe, so she doesn't think Feitan can carry her but then he proves her wrong (maybe with a little bit of angst because she's self conscious, and then comfort because Feitan loves that there's more of her)
Idk if that made sense
Perfect
Feitan x Chubby!Fem!Reader
!!REBLOGS APPRECIATED!!
A/N: another short one… but I like it!! Join my server !!
warnings: insecure reader, a bit of internalized misogyny
SFW: @lightshowerrr @jungtoast @nenggie @aliceattheart @atransmuter
‼️If you want to be added to the taglist, please check out the taglist information then comment what you want to be added to! Make sure you have your age in your bio and that your blog can be tagged/mentioned!‼️
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You had been dating Feitan for nearly a year now, and you still knew so little about him. His whereabouts while he was out of town were a mystery to you, and you had no idea what he did for work. All you did know was that he didn’t have a normal job.
When you jokingly asked him if he was in the mafia, he scoffed. “Mafia bunch of puss- wimps. Not part of it, not by long shot.”
You were a little perturbed by his answer, but couldn’t help laughing at the way he censored himself for your sake. He seemed to see you as some kind of delicate princess, closer to a porcelain doll than human. Feitan was always extremely gentle when touching you, his hands almost hesitant when making contact with your skin.
This was something you didn’t understand. Throughout your life, people viewed you as bigger, tougher, when in reality you were quite easily hurt, both physically and mentally. The topic of your weight had been a sore subject…
But your Fei wasn’t really good with reading social cues.
“Eat good. Here, for big girl.”
You stared at your boyfriend as he used his chopsticks to drop an extra egg roll on your plate. In your mind, you know he meant nothing by it. He was friends with larger people like Uvogin who ate tons to keep up his strength and figure.
But your heart felt hurt. You pushed your plate away and huffed. “Hmph.”
He was bad about assuming things, even if you knew it Feitan wasn’t being malicious, it still hurt your feelings when he assumed random things because of your body type.
But what you didn’t know, was that Feitan wasn’t assuming anything. You were his girlfriend, he had to provide for you and make sure you ate well. In meteor city, having meat on your bones usually meant you were well taken care of, and all he wanted to do was make sure you ate.
Feitan, though… he wasn’t good at communicating that. Or communicating at all, really, so he just stared as you pushed away the food. He scoffed, slightly offended that you turned down his offer.
“Why huff? Being brat.”
You sniffled, standing up and storming off. Feitan wouldn’t let this slide, he hated seeing you upset.
The dark haired man caught your wrist, squeezing with just enough force to catch your attention. “Why act like this? Made you mad?”
You pouted, puffing out your chubby cheeks. “Mmph… it’s embarrassing. You’re thin and I’m not… aren’t girls supposed to be dainty and small? Isn’t that what you would prefer, someone you could easily pick up?”
You wiped the tears from your eyes, not daring to look back at your lover.
But you didn’t have to look, because he turned you around and began lifting you with ease. Once you were in the air, he held onto your ass, squeezing softly. You squeaked and immediately wrapped your plump thighs around his waist for support, your cheeks burning with embarrassment.
“See? Easy. My little bunny.”
He held you in his arms, not straining or struggling in the slightest. It was like you weighed nothing at all to him and it was… relieving.
“Can’t understand? You… are mine.”
He huffed, sitting down with you in his lap, his arms wrapped around your waist. “We clear?”
You snuggled him, burying your teary face into his neck. “Yeah…”
Feitan tried to be a bit more sensitive with you after that, and made it a point to carry you around and show you off to his friends. It was a little embarrassing… but you felt loved and beautiful.
And that was all you needed.
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mangekyuou · 11 hours
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★ the new intern portgas d. ace, my beloved.
cw: nsfw. f!reader. afab!reader. ace is from the south idk. takes place in the states for some reason again idk. i was just writing lmaoo. reader wears a skirt. not proofread. hear me out. MINORS DNI.
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── intern!ace who has recently started his internship at your company you have only been at for almost a year. mentoring him is somehow pushed onto you despite any of your colleagues being here longer than you and having much more experience in mentoring. you’ve never done this before. you try your absolute damnedest to get out of it but no one seems interested in relieving you of the responsibility. so best of luck to you
── intern!ace who is unlike anything you’ve seen before. why would a rowdy man start an internship at an office where he’d just be behind his desk or in meetings all day?
── intern!ace who never went anywhere without that distractingly bright orange hat.
── intern!ace who has a southern drawl about him, you aren’t surprised to learn he comes from somewhere down south. he has a special way of speaking that you, born and raised up north, struggled with understanding his creative idioms.
── intern!ace who you could always hear before you could see whether it was his loud mouth or the loud clicking of those ostrich skin square toe boots he was so proud of covered by his long trousers. they were louder than your heels.
── intern!ace who has a load of questions and is at your office door every five minutes. you’ve even started to recognize him by his knock. he always greeted you with a wooden toothpick between his plump lips.
── intern!ace who is a very respectful man who cares a lot about honorifics. that’s how he was raised. you are his mentor, his senior. he can’t just call you by your name. what kind of man would he be? you have become, miss.
── intern!ace who is very friendly, very touchy, but sweet as candy. you chalked it up to southern hospitality that you have yet to experience. when you’re explaining something, he stands extra close, he’s almost touching you. when you’re coming in, he jogs in front of you to hold open the door. when you fix the problem he has, he compliments you. he always looks so amazed when in just a few clicks everything is fixed. you’re like his superhero.
── intern!ace who has made it a habit to eat with you. or wait to take his lunch until you’re done. you’re like his only friend in the office and he likes eating with you.
── intern!ace who gets onto you about forgetting your lunch and eating fast food all the time. a woman like you deserves a homecooked meal he’s made it a habit to bring you an extra lunch. he does it so much, he’s even got you your own lunchbox that’s your favorite color.
── intern!ace who doesn’t leave the office until you leave. he could be done for hours but he still wants to walk you to your car to make sure you get there safely. plus what if you get lonely being the only one in the office?
── intern!ace who worries that you overwork yourself only to never be recognized. he’s only been here a month and a half and he’s already noticed it. he is always ready to remind you that you’re too good for this job and that they don’t deserve you or your time.
── intern!ace who looks a little different. dressed in a tight white button-down that looked like he was going to pop out of any second. were his arms always that big? was his chest always that broad? what did he look like without the shirt on? was he hiding more freckles under there?
── intern!ace who isn’t a fool. he may have been born at night but it damn sure wasn’t last night. he sees how you’re eyeballing him, undressing him with your eyes. he’s flattered. he’s always thought you were a beauty too, pretty as a peach, hotter than a fire in july.
── intern!ace who once again doesn’t leave with everyone else, he stays to keep you company. though this time he is bold enough to stay with you in your office until you’re ready to go. he’s distracting you with his presence alone. how are you supposed to finish when he’s sitting there with the top buttons of his shirt undone because it’s a little warm in here? he sprawled out on the chair, his legs open and his hat resting over his face because he wanted to 'rest his eyes'. you never noticed how built he was…how nice and lonely his lap looked. maybe it was kinda warm in here.
── intern!ace who hears you shuffle in your seat and hears you call out to him. he sits back up, taking his hat off of your face. you ask for his help, something you’ve never done before. he’s honored. he steps behind your desk to see the problem, to see exactly what you’re stuck on. it’s something simple, something you’ve helped him with before. why were you struggling now? maybe you wanted to test his knowledge, maybe you wanted to have him closer.
── intern!ace who stands behind your chair, reaching over the side of you to grab the mouse while his other strong hand rests on the back of your chair. you take on his warm, heavenly scent. it was intoxicating, you could hardly focus, and you hadn't heard a word he uttered.
── intern!ace who must come even closer, to actually finish your report so he can use the keyboard. he is particularly towering over you as he types so slowly. the tension in the room was so high. you cross your legs making your skirt ride up your thighs a little. with your eyes stuck on your monitor, you fail to watch him bite down on his lip.
── intern!ace who steps back to let you send your report to the boss before spinning your chair around to face him. there is one more work-related question he needs to ask you before you go home for the night.
── intern!ace who is a liar. it’s not work-related at all. he just wanted to be dramatic.
── “can i kiss you? i’ve been wanting to for a while now. it’s been killing me not to”
── intern!ace who barely lets the word yes fade into the air before he’s captured your lips on his in a passionate kiss. he kissed you like a desperate man, like a man who has waited god knows how long.
── intern!ace whose hands fiddle with your top, unbuttoning it just enough to reveal your bra and remove the tie you wore to work today.
── “i love me a businesswoman in a tie. you’re the boss here tonight, miss”
── intern!ace who wants you to take the reins, to take charge, to take what you want from him tonight. anything you wanted you could have.
── intern!ace who followed your every command with “yes ma’am” that sent shivers down your spine.
── intern!ace who finds his face place to be is in between your legs, with your tie tied tightly around his wrists behind his back. your fingers locked into his hair as you pushed him as far as he could go into your sopping wet cunt that has already drenched the lower half of his face.
── “like this, miss?”
── intern!ace with a praise kink. he loves hearing you tell him how good he’s treating you. looking up at you through hooded eyes as he waits for your praise. it sends chills down his spine and makes his cock twitch and leak in his pants.
── intern!ace who doesn’t know how you got even hotter with his hat on top of your head, your face contorted in pleasure, your shirt unbuttoned and your little skirt pulled up to your waist. it was a picture that was never going to leave his mind. from now on, you had to wear his hat more often.
── intern!ace who has an oral fixation. he’s attached his plump lips to your throbbing bundle of nerves yet again like a starved man with his eyes closed in delight. he moaned and hummed against you. he loved how your body trembled underneath his tongue as you came for him yet again. he lapped up all of your juices without fail like you were his favorite meal.
── intern!ace who whines when you pull him off your cunt.
── intern!ace who loves it when you take ownership over him. he’s your intern. he's your boy. he’s your baby, only yours and he’ll do whatever it takes to please you. he wants to hear you say it. he needs to hear you say it when he’s got you over your desk, balls deep into your pussy, fucking you like he’s in heat as you hold onto your tie that’s wrapped around his neck. say he’s your baby when he’s fucking this rough, this deep. say you own all of him, as his balls slap against your tight, creamy cunt.
── intern!ace who only cums after you because your pleasure is first. he only cums when you tell him to. he needs to kiss you when he does, emptying his load deep into your pussy, something he wasn’t supposed to do. he lets you pull on the tie one more time for good measure since he couldn’t behave.
── intern!ace whose oral fixation comes back to bite you in the ass when he’s already back on his knees to lap up all of his cum out of your sensitive cunt.
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MANGEKYOU 2024 ── do not copy, repost, or translate my works onto this platform or any other !
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kfaem · 1 day
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Love and Deepspace; Sleepless Nights
≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫
I was in the shower listening to Sleepless Nights by 9Muses and got this idea in my head. I’m starting to write this at 1am so don’t expect quality lol. Pairing: Zayne/F!Reader Genre: Angst, Hurt with Comfort CW: Written on mobile, nightmares, possible descriptions of gore, some spoilers to his myth i guess?, use of nicknames (dove, aurora) Summary: When MC has a nightmare that leaves her shaken.
She was running. Boots hitting the concrete with a solid slam as she darted through the crowd of blurry faces. She was running to a burning building.
Then she wasn’t running anymore. She was in a field of wilted jasmine flowers. The sky a toxic grey, clouds masking any hint of a blue sky from her eyes. The wilted flowers crunched under her bare feet as she walked. She didn’t know where she was headed until she saw a silhouette. “Zayne?” She called out, voice hoarse, a hollow echo flooding the nearly empty field.
But he ignored her. As she drew closer, steps growing more frantic, it felt as though he was only getting further away. “Zayne!” She called desperately, tears welling up in her eyes as an indescribable feeling of fear overcame her.
Before she could break out into a run, the ground disappeared below her. She plummeted down, landing somewhat painlessly on a hard stone floor. A chain had been secured on her wrist and a beautifully ominous frost began to creep towards her. She shivered violently, weakly pleading for Zayne to save her. She closed her eyes for a moment and found herself in front of him. He was shackled by chains the same way she had been but this time, he was gritting his teeth. “Zayne?” Her lips were stiff from the cold and a soft snowflake pattern etched itself up her body. “What…what is this? What’s happening?”
His brow furrowed and his eyes shut as an icicle plunged through his chest. “I-I don’t want to hurt you…” Zayne gasped, the icicles continuing to pierce through his skin. “This isn’t me, my dove, I-I’m so sorry.” A sob like sound fell from his lips as a horrid pain shot through her heart. Her gaze fell, it was one of his icicles.
She gasped, lungs expanding as though she was drowning. The man she loved was sitting up beside her in a heartbeat, gently running his fingers through her hair. "You're alright, I've got you." He frowned at her shaken state, the silence filling the room was deafening. "Do you need anything? Water, something to eat?" His voice was gentle, soft. The voice he only used for her.
"I-I...I saw you get hurt. You died." Zayne cupped her face in his hands, wiping the tears from her weeping eyes. "Then-then you lost control of your evol, the ice..." She raised her hand to her chest, the memory of the shard tearing through her skin felt so real. "You looked so scared, so afraid... I couldn't even say anything."
Zayne remained silent, a soft sigh falling from his mouth. "You will never have to worry about that coming true, my aurora, I will never harm you even if it kills me." He pulled her against his chest, placing one of her shaking hands on his chest. "See? We're here, you can feel my heart beating, can't you?"
Her breathing started to even out then, the aching in her chest subsiding now that she could truly feel him in front of her. "I love you, Zayne."
"I love you too, aurora."
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spatialwave · 17 hours
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just read your pre calc fic please write another omg it was soooooo good
eek, i'm so happy you liked it! i thought i'd use this ask as a way to continue the story. 🤍
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𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐬 𝐭𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐛𝐨𝐲 𝐭𝐮𝐭𝐨𝐫. 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐. notes: fem!reader <- prev.
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being tutored by angus tully had become far less tutoring and more learning about each other, and not through conversation. you knew it was becoming an issue when your grades hardly budged, moving up to a c-minus, which wasn’t horrible, but far from ivy league worthy. there was only one month left in your junior year, meaning one month left to make a good impact on your grades and head into senior year with a head start on calculus.
it wasn’t looking good for you.
even if you couldn’t muster an a-minus, you hoped that your extra curriculars would stand out on your applications. you could only put so much time in theatre, community volunteering and chess club—was pre-calculus really all that important?
especially when there were better things to worry about than math, such as the way angus’ hand on your thigh sent shivers up your spine. his brown eyes glued to the pages of the textbook, looking through his lashes as his thumb grazed over your bare skin absently. this closeness became your comfort, the library at your school often quiet enough in the evenings that you two could relish in each other.
it’s not like your peers would rat you out anyway, you had started to notice how many secretive relationships were had between the two schools. you became truly aware of the fact when you’d been looking for a history textbook one night and heard the sounds of soft breathing and moaning coming from an aisle over… though, you couldn’t be certain that it was a girl and a boy.
as you looked down at your homework, able to comprehend it better than the month prior, you found yourself wanting to focus on anything but the coursework due the following day.
“i think my teacher is getting curious of why my grades aren’t improving fast enough,” you murmured, dropping your pencil onto the textbook as you aired a concern that had been eating you away, “why can’t i get the hang of it?”
“maybe if you paid attention,” angus was quick to react, those eyes flickering to you as he straightened up slightly with his hand still glued to your thigh.
“wow, that is totally not my fault,” you breathed, annoyed at his lack of empathy over your situation.
“it’s my fault?” he asked, lips curving into a grin that exposed his teeth.
you blinked a few times, gazing into his eyes before you looked down at his hand and hoping he’d followed your gaze. when you looked back up, you saw the way he chewed on his lip, biting back a cheeky smile as he kept his hand there.
“fine,” he said, removing his hand, “i’ll be good.”
“thank you,” you said, straightening up and adjusting your skirt. you already missed his touch, but you knew this was for the better—you two had plenty of other opportunities to use your free time to get handsy. right now, you needed to focus on what was important.
the air was tense between you two as angus moved on with the content, keeping his distance as he explained equations that managed to stick. you knew it wasn’t like magic, you wouldn’t wake up tomorrow a pre-calculus genius, but it was quite magical to see the wonders that concentration could bring.
when the clock struck nine o’clock in the evening, it was curfew for all students. with a soft sigh you started packing your things into a pile so you could take them back to your room.
“sorry for being bossy,” your voice was soft, “i’m just getting worried about college.”
you looked over at angus, surprised to see the boy sitting there with a smile. admiring you.
“what?” you asked, feeling self conscious under his eyes.
“nothing,” he chuckled, “am i not allowed to look at you either? you are bossy.”
“i’m not in the mood for being teased,” you huffed, though your worries were immediately gone when angus leaned over and pressed his lips against yours. something you’d gotten used to.
the kiss was quick, but he didn’t pull back too far from you, his arm now extended over the back of your chair to keep you close.
“i’ll be careful at our next tutoring session, alright? i guess it’s hard to keep my hands from you. don’t realize i’m doing it,” angus admitted, his cheeks just the tiniest bit rosy.
“it’s okay,” you murmured in return, smiling at the awkwardness radiating from the boy you’d been crushing on—hard, “if it’s any consolation, if i had the willpower to concentrate i’d rather you kept doing it.”
a smile spread on angus’ lips as he laughed softly, leaning forward and pressing a kiss on your cheek. a domestic action that made your stomach swirl, mostly because you two still hadn’t talked about what was happening between you. though, you didn’t really mind, the uncertainty made you giddy, rather than nervous, like you were each other’s secret.
“well, i should go,” angus sighed as he pulled away from you, but you were quick to reach for him.
“wait,” you squeaked, grabbing his wrist, “maybe you can stay for a bit. i mean, i feel like i deserve a reward.” you spotted the way the boy’s eyes lit in excitement, eager to see where you were going with this, “what do you think?”
a confident smile spread on his lips as you dropped your hand from him, those brown eyes of his flickering around the library to make sure that it was empty enough. you were filled with that excited uncertainty again, thankful that instead of putting his things away he whisked you far in the depths of the library shelves. a place the two of you had grown familiar with, a place where your hands had found spots up in the shelves to keep you upright while angus explored every inch of you that he could.
while you wondered what it would be like to decide on a title of what you two ‘were’, those thoughts were easily dismissed when his lips were on your neck. angus was good at making a mess out of you, hair wild and skirt pushed up to your waist as his lips and hands made quick work of leaving you breathless.
but you had enough breath to utter a few words that made you wish you could dig a grave for yourself.
“what are we?” you asked through a satisfied sigh as you focused on the feeling of his lips against your skin. it was cut short when angus’ face quickly pulled away from your collarbones where he’d popped open most of the buttons of your school-issued shirt.
“what?” he asked, curls wild and out of place, cheeks red.
“i—“ you stuttered, “i don’t know. i didn’t mean to ask. ignore that.”
angus swallowed, his adam’s apple bobbing as he cleared his throat and pulled himself back enough to give you two some room.
“i don’t—“
“please, let’s not talk about it,” you whined, the silence between the two of you eating you alive.
nearly out of breath, angus laughed, lifting a hand to brush his curls out of his face, “let me talk.”
you didn’t answer, instead deciding to button up your shirt and fix your hair; you knew you’d be saying your goodbyes quickly. then, the boy’s hand grabbed at your chin and tilted your head so you were forced to look at him, your hands gripping at your half-buttoned shirt.
you saw how angus was trying desperately to be confident, but his twitching lips and pink cheeks spoke volumes on how nervous his was. you still wished you could turn back time and keep your mouth shut.
“do you want to know how i really feel about you?” he asked, and you prepared for the worst. you always did.
nodding slowly, you shuddered as his hand moved to cup your cheek.
“i… i really like you,” he murmured, “a lot… and i’m scared to mess it up. that’s why i keep my mouth shut about anything between us, i feel like if i decide to make this real then i’ll find a way to screw it up like everything else.”
the honesty was palpable, angus was wearing his heart on his sleeve as he aired everything out to you. you empathized fully, a smile breaking on your lips as you felt seen, and most of all—loved.
“i really like you too. like a lot… if you can’t tell.” you blushed, finding it hard to keep your eyes locked on his.
“i can tell,” he teased, rubbing his thumb along your cheek as the two of you allowed yourself the space to take pleasure in your admissions of romantic interest. he took in a deep breath and exhaled out, obviously doing his best to keep himself calm, “would you, uh… say yes if i asked you to be my girlfriend?”
elated. you were so elated to hear that question fall from his lips and you wanted to jump into his arms and laugh loudly with joy. though, you kept quiet lest you wanted your library rendezvous to end in detention.
a big, toothy grin spread on your lips and you spoke coyly, “sure. i’ll be your girlfriend.”
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arabaka · 2 days
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₊˚ʚ ☁️ ₊˚ ♡ ゚. content warnings ⤸ nsfw. reigen arataka x afab!reader. cunnilingus. masturbation. public sex. written in a fugue state so sorry abt grammar/spelling/weirdness. 500ish word count.
₊˚ʚ ☁️ ₊˚ ♡ ゚. summary ⤸ reigen eats you out in a parking lot. idk what you expect from me /j
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You’re in an abandoned parking lot. The building is in great shape– well, now it is. A weak curse had picked up traction on social media about the area and before you knew it, the place was swarming with spiritual energy. It wasn’t a piece of cake but it wasn’t anything you and Serizawa couldn’t handle. 
“Hey,” Reigen’s voice is a husky murmur as he hooks a finger onto your jacket to hold you back, “Stay back here with me for a bit.”
Naturally, you do.
Growing up, sensing people’s spiritual energy from an ever-growing radius was maddening: a curse. 
Now though, as your boyfriend eats you out with your palms against the concrete wall in this abandoned building, you definitely can write it off as a blessing.
“G-God, right there, right there.” You hiss, stopping yourself short of digging your nails into the wall. Your pants are hot on your already sweaty skin and you’re only getting more drenched with Reigen’s spit dripping off your folds. 
It’s insane, the work you’re putting in to stay standing on your heels but it’s worth it; Reigen is a master with his tongue. His tongue slides effortlessly between your folds, your slick practically disappearing in his mouth as he works you over. All the while, he’s having a hard time keeping his eyes straight behind closed lids, engorging himself on your taste with every lap and suck. He can’t help it; he loses himself in the soft, tender flesh of your clit. The way you try to hide your little squeaks of his name as your heels skitter along the cement floor. The way you get so wet for him, rivets of your arousal run down your pantyhose-clad legs.
Pantyhose because your boyfriend had been in too much of a hurry to pull them down and instead ripped his way into eating you out in the middle of this freshly-exorcised parking lot. It’s not the first pair he’s ruined and it won’t be the last.
Reigen’s gotten more brazen as of late, this he knows, and it’s a bad habit to have. Because now it’s near impossible to wait when the mood strikes and honestly, seeing you in action earlier… How sexy the confidence on your face looked… 
Ugh, you certainly can’t blame him, can you?
“Tastes so good.” You can hear him casually grumble, your slit clenching around the tip of his tongue as he works his way in. The breaths in his voice make your whole body shiver, your hips stuttering back and pushing your pussy deeper into his mouth, an opportunity he happily seizes with both hands coming to claw deeply into the fat of your ass. The surge in pleasure makes you sing a chorus of moans, the noise bouncing in echoes along the walls. 
Even in the midst of ecstasy, you keep in mind any lingering entities around the area; yes, the risk is sexy but let’s keep it that way. 
Reigen is furiously pumping his shaft as he slurps profanely on your juices. He couldn’t possibly keep his noises to himself; he can hardly shut up as it is. 
In the middle of those moans and grunts, you hear Reigen utter, “I swear, this will be the last time.”
But you and him both know it wouldn’t.
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digitaldiarystuff · 2 days
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Our Secret Pt.2
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sooo i’m starting to write before the poll is over hope the result stays the same lol
also thank you for not giving up on me💕
you can read part one here
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pairing: Pedri Gonzalez x Y/N x Fermin Lopez
summary: you are Pedri’s girlfriend and know his friends, one of them being Fermin. It doesn’t look like he likes you very much but what if he likes you too much?
genre: angst
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That night after Fermin dropped you at your place you had a weird feeling in your stomach you couldn’t quite place, you didn’t do anything wrong, you kept reminding yourself. Fermin is literally Pedri’s friend, he was just doing you a favor and you’re mad at Pedri because he left you alone, that’s it.
After taking a much needed shower to clear your thoughts you laid on your bed hoping to sleep quickly but unfortunately, you weren’t that lucky and had trouble falling asleep. You felt upset about Pedri’s behavior at the party and suddenly realized all the other times he made you feel uneasy in public, there were times he didn’t feel comfortable being seen with you because you weren’t official yet and that’s understandable given the fact that he’s insanely famous but a part of you felt like you shouldn’t be hidden no matter what. The more you thought about it, the sadder you felt but finally, you felt your eyes closing.
The next morning you woke up a little late and with a headache, great, you thought. You found your phone in between your sheets and looked at missed notifications secretly hoping to see a good morning text from Pedri but there was something else. An unsaved number texted you at 8.32 am
Hey, good morning! Hope you’re okay and don’t have a headache or stomachache, I think eating McDonald’s that late was a mistake 😅
You immediately realized it was Fermin and your heart warmed with his thoughtful words, he didn’t have to text you or check up on you but still did it while your boyfriend couldn’t even bother asking if you went home okay. It’s not like he was asleep because you knew for a fact he had practice this morning so he had to be up. You decided not to let it get to you and started typing.
Hey thank you so much for everything, I don’t know how I’d survive last night without you! And yes the nuggets definitely were a mistake lol, hope you’re okay too
You reread the text trying to make sure it’s not weird but why would it be weird, it’s just two friends checking up on each other even though you didn’t even know he had your number before today. He could’ve easily got it from Pedri, right?
Fermin didn’t text you back after that and you thought maybe it’s for the best but you also didn’t hear from Pedri until well into the afternoon when he called.
“Hey” he smiled softly like he wasn’t black out drunk last night
“Hey” you said with slight coldness in your voice but you weren’t doing it on purpose.
“Are we still on for tonight?” he asked without even mentioning anything about the previous night’s events and you were kind of taken aback.
“What’s tonight?”
“We have that charity event, remember, I told you a week ago.” you suddenly remembered him asking you to accompany him to this fancy event.
At first you were thrilled with the idea thinking this may be the night you make your relationship official but he quickly shut the idea down by telling you he’d pose for the cameras out front and meet up with you once the auction starts. You were less excited now but still said yes and forgot about it all till now.
“Oh yeah, sure we’re still going. How are you planning on going there?”
“The boys and I were thinking about getting a limo, can you take an Uber and meet me there?”
“Do you not want me in the limo?” you asked shocked by how inconsiderate he was being. First he hides you from the world and now he wants you to step in an Uber with a fancy looking dress and ride there alone.
“No of course not, you can come get ready at mine then. I’ll be at the house by five.”
“You know what, I’ll find my own way Pedri. You don’t have to worry about me, not that you care.” you said and ended the call feeling agitated.
He tried calling you a few more times but you didn’t pick up, you even considered turning your phone off and not showing up but wanted to have a nice night with him, maybe this could solve your issues.
You started getting ready for the event, trying on 2 different dresses. One was an off the shoulder black silk maxi dress and the other was a dark red spaghetti strap maxi dress with a wide slit on the side and a corset as a top. You took mirror selfies with both dresses and sent it to your best friend who was on top of your messages app and started on your makeup as you waited for an answer. Your phone pinged not long after and you picked it up expecting it to be Elena but was shocked to see Fermin’s name on the screen. You remembered saving his number in the morning. He sent you a single text.
Definitely the red one
Your cheeks heat up immediately realizing your mistake, you sent the photos to Fermin instead of Elena because he was the last person you texted.
I’m so sorry, it was meant for someone else lol
You wrote back but made a mental note to wear the red dress, maybe it was that much better. You anxiously waited an answer from Fermin but it never came and you felt stupid, did he think you did it on purpose or was he being the cold and stoic Fermin you know again? You felt like you managed to make him open up more and made progress in your friendship and would hate if he went back to being distant. You thought about what can you text him that would make him answer but before you could find something your phone started ringing.
Fermin Lopez
You picked it up slightly nervous.
“Hey”
“Hey, are you not riding with everyone else to the venue?” he asked straight away without even asking how you were.
“No, um, I’ll go straight from my place so…” you drifted off not knowing how to explain why you weren’t going with your boyfriend.
“Are you ready?”
“Well, I’ll probably be ready in 15.” you looked at yourself in the mirror, you had the dress on and your makeup was almost done.
“Okay, I’ll pick you up then.” he suggested but his voice was so neutral you couldn’t understand any emotion behind it.
“What? Fermin you don’t ha…”
“I’m on my way Y/N. I’ll text you once I’m outside.” he said and hung up before you could even reply.
You stood there for a few moments trying to understand what just happened, why was Fermin this interested in how you’ll arrive at the venue or how you’re doing and more importantly, why wasn’t Pedri?
You decided to push these thoughts away and put on your accessories for the night but was a little too slow because Fermin already texted you before you could put everything on. You told him you need 5 more minutes and he was welcome to wait in your living room whilst you finish up and he soon rang the doorbell.
You opened the door revealing Fermin in a suit, this was the first time you’ve seen him this formal and admittedly, he looked nice. Actually he looked so good that you had to tear your eyes away from him but he didn’t look like he noticed, he was too busy looking at your figure with wide eyes. This may be the longest he’s ever looked your way but once you made proper eye contact, he immediately looked away.
“Hi” you smiled and hugged him softly, kissing one of his cheeks. He smiled at you and placed his hand on your waist careful not to put it too low. It felt more like a fancy first date than two friends carpooling to a charity event where your boyfriend was waiting for you and the thought made your stomach turn. There was something about Fermin that you couldn’t understand, he was never inappropriate or weird with you but you couldn’t help but feel something and that something scared the living shit out of you.
“You look amazing, told you this was the best dress.” he shyly said and your cheeks turned red with his compliment, you knew he preferred this dress but it was also your favorite. You didn’t wear it for him.
“So do you.” you replied and it was his turn to have reddened cheeks. He looked down at his shoes and didn’t look back up until you spoke again.
“Let me put on my shoes and we can go.”
You went into your shoe closet and picked out the nude heels you had in mind. They weren’t too high but still elevated your look. You dropped them in front of your door and tried getting in them but struggled because of your dress hugging your body tightly, Fermin soon noticed your uncomfortable state.
“Here, let me help you” he didn’t even let you reply and kneeled down in front of you to help you step into your shoes and buckle them, he did one foot and lightly tapped your calf for you to hold the other one. His one hand on behind your calf steadied you while the other helped you and you were standing so close that you could feel his breath on your exposed leg which made you shiver. You placed one hand on his shoulder and he looked up at you, his eyes were filled with yet another emotion but this time you knew it wasn’t something like sadness or anger, it was pure lust and you hated that you also had the same look on your face.
He slowly rose to his feet but you didn’t let go of his shoulder, you felt glued to him at that moment. Fermin must have felt the same because he stood so close to you that your noses nearly touched and he made no effort to pull back, you knew better you really did, you should’ve taken a step back thank him for helping you and go to the event but Fermin had other plans.
He suddenly closed the gap between you two and pressed his lips onto yours in a hasty manner like he had to do it, he did it so urgently as if he needed you and you couldn’t help but move your lips with his placing your hand on the back of his neck. Your judgement was too clouded to stop as he walked you back into your living room without breaking the kiss, he only stopped when your back hit the wall and a soft moan escaped your lips.
“Fermin” you mewled as he was moving his hands all around your body and on your exposed leg.
He pulled back slightly, your foreheads still touching and both of you panting. His eyes opened for the first time since he kissed you and looked straight into your soul.
“Fermin” you whispered this time not even sure if you were asking him to stop or carry on.
“Y/N, I want this. I want this so fucking much but if you don’t, I can get out of here now and we can pretend this never happened. I’ll never bother you again.” he softly said and you were surprised at how calm he was talking contrary to how passionate he was being mere seconds ago.
You closed your eyes to try to slow your heartbeat down, your whole body was shaking a little. You tried to think but all you could think about was his lips and hands on you.
You stood there for a moment before leaning in again and he happily accepted your advances telling you to jump and you obliged not caring about anything else in the world other than Fermin. He was making you feel that alive.
“God, you’re perfect” he said while carrying you to your room and kissing every inch of skin he could find.
“Just make me feel good” you begged him and he nodded eagerly. He was going to do just that.
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jstardoesthings · 1 month
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I went through the new update I just wanna hug Eddie
poor guy is being traumatised out here by a singular pea
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Disabled culture is going to see a doctor about a new medical scare and being able to predict exactly what they’re going to suggest, because it’s the exact same thing every doctor tells you for everything
#disabled culture is#ableism tw#medical ableism#like. ma’am. i just had a terrifying experience and am seeking medical help to make sure it doesnt become a regular occurrence#you do not need to treat me like a toddler#‘just eat more and get your bmi to a better range and you’ll be fine :)’ MA’AM#i am aware i weigh about as much as a sopping wet kitten but i am not here about the autoimmune disease causing that#i am here because i fainted hit my head and felt like i was experiencing violet involuntary movement even though i wasn’t#anyway congrats to this doctor for taking two hours to tell me something i learned from talking with potsies like 6 years ago#anyway my shock thoughts are really funny. she pressed on my nails to check for dehydration and my single thought was#‘thats not how they did it on mythbusters >:(‘#fr tho uhhh fainting is super scary and i salute everyone who deals with it regularly#also is it normal to like.#i felt like my head was jerking around and I couldn’t stop it and that lasted for like a full minute after i was aware again#couldn’t talk or move like my arms or anything while it was happening#doctor literally just waved me off when i asked. if anyone has any insight on why i felt like that when my head wasnt moving pls lemme know#also tbh i dont even know if it technically counts as fainting. my eyes were open the whole time apparently#but everything before and after the fall for about a minute is blank#anyway uh! we think im fine! no blood and probably no concussion the only thing with major damage is the wall lol
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lilyaceofdiamonds · 1 year
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I really hate how much my brain hates to do new things sometimes
#oops i’m ranting in the tags apparently#tw for uhh depression and anxiety and eating difficulties in the tags if you read them#i made it to the door of a cafe two blocks from my flat#i’ve walked past it a dozen times in the six months i’ve lived here#and the menu looks good it’s coffee and breakfast foods and sandwiches#and they have donuts from a donut place i like#but it’s in a building with like three doors right next to each other and i didn’t know which one it was#and now i do bc i thought to check the address online#and made it to the door but it looks small and there were People there because it’s like noon duh#and i couldn’t see if there was more table just by peeking through the window while trying to look like i wasn’t peeking in#so i stood a foot away from the door and then left and went to my normal coffee place one block in the other direction#but i still haven’t gotten FOOD which is … not great i haven’t eaten anything in a couple days#i mean i had chinese food that i split between sat and sun as my lunch at work#but i should probably eat something but i’m tired of only going to the chipotle near safeway or the pizza bar which isn’t open yet anyway#which leads us back to i hate my brain and i’ll probably just end up getting chipotle again#but there are so many local restaurants that i want to try!! but i’m so picky about food while also hating to ask for modifications#and i used up most of the energy today dragging myself into the shower for the first time in dayss#and i need to do laundry and go grocery shopping and do the dishes and and and#and i’m still fucking exhausted even though i passed out on the couch last night and didn’t drag myself out until like 11 am#and i have work tomorrow so laundry NEEDS to happen because i worked eight days in a row and have zero clean work clothes#and i can hear my stomach growling at me because coffee was not enough and i know better and i’m really not trying to starve myself to death#but goddamn i just don’t want to have to do anything#i hate this#why brain why#mental health: deteriorating#my ramblings
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skinny culture is so fucked. “omg you’re losing weight u look so good” im losing weight because my appetite has decreased so significantly (potentially because of the issues with my thyroid) that it’s difficult for me to eat a full serving of anything which means my sleep and my energy and everything is decreasing and i don’t feel great
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slvttyplum · 1 month
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satoru was your personal rose toy. he latched that mouth around that clit and got to work with whatever you wanted, and his reward was your squirt. 
he never had any complaints and would always smile widely when you told him you were horny and needed to use his mouth. 
this started when you saw online that people were using a sec toy called a “rose” saying it worked wonders and had to use one so of course out of pure curiosity you ordered one. 
when it arrived, you were so giddy to try it, and it had you bouncing off the walls and your sheets covered in your fluids. 
it had you off the moon that you would use it every-time satoru wasn’t at the house and one lucky day satoru caught you. even though he was harder than a rock, he was annoyed that you were getting off on that thing. 
so he did the only thing he could think of at that moment and from his selfish, greedy needs. snatching the toy out your hand and throwing it away telling you that any time
you wanted to get off to just tell him, and oh boy did he hold up to that. 
at first, you laughed at the theatrics and thought he was just going off on a whim, and the first day he would be tired of fucking or eating you out every minute, but you thought wrong. 
every time you uttered out a “satoru” with a pout, he was on top of you, ripping off your clothes, giving your pussy exactly what it needed at that moment. 
it was like having a bell and every time you ring it he would come running giving you whatever you needed. 
even though the rose felt good and felt as though it was sucking your soul out,   satoru’s mouth and dick felt way better, it had that euphoric feel, it had you craving him, it had your mouth dry for more. 
you knew after the first orgasm around his dick that you wanted him to keep fucking you so he complied. he never had any complaints about it, and would fuck you like he hadn’t seen you in a month. 
“i want to keep fucking you like this. you feel so fucking good.” 
even if he wasn’t around he would talk
to you on the phone and guide you through an orgasm that had your screams bouncing off the walls. 
he wanted you to himself, so he would do anything and i mean anything to keep it that way.
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nezuscribe · 7 months
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𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐛𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬
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pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader
summary: you find yourself in a marriage that you never wanted in the first place. your husband seems to hate you and you begin to wonder if anything you used to think of him was even true. who would have though a marriage to gojo satoru would be so difficult?
warnings: 18+ mdni, arranged marriage, misunderstandings and just not talking shit out, mentions of cheating, slight angst (with comfort), eating out (fem! receiving), fingering, gojo doesn't really know how to husband for some of it
word count: 10.9K (whoops)
note: part two is up! i really had a lot of fun writing this so reblogs and comments are always appreciated! as always, thank you to @jadeisthirsting for beta reading <3
jjk masterlist
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never did you think that you’d be stuck in a marriage to a man who didn���t love you, but there’s a first for everything. 
you should count yourself lucky that he’s not old and bald. he’s pretty. in fact, he’s the prettiest man you’ve ever seen. his eyes are the bluest, bluer than the sky. his hair mirrors the winter snows, and his back ripples with muscles whenever he fights. 
his agility is unlike any other man. he fights swiftly and cleanly, never taking more than a couple minutes to get rid of whatever it was that stood in his way. he’s charming with his words (or so you’ve heard), and he knows how to make somebody swoon if he really wants them to. 
and he seems to despise you.
you had known gojo since you were a child, the two of you running around each other's fields as you chased him with your wooden sword. you remembered watching him in training, wishing him good luck whenever he went on a hunt. you could even remember how he would stutter whenever he tried to talk, something he must have worked on because he never seemed to stutter anymore. 
he was always nice to you, his cheeks rosy whenever you kissed him goodbye. he was kind back then, grinning brightly whenever he saw you. 
but as time grew and you with it, and it was only a matter of years before the two of you went your separate ways. it didn’t help that once he turned thirteen he had to leave for training and fighting in whatever it was that was needed of him, but you had hoped that he would be able to write back. 
you would send him letters whenever you could, it was tradition whenever the two of you were separated for too long to do so. each letter telling him about new experiences and embarrassing things that happened in your life, but he never responded. you liked to send one every week, sometimes including little tokens you thought he might enjoy. but you stopped sending them after the first two years and stopped asking about his whereabouts after three. 
but you were hopeful that when you saw him that night so many months ago, he’d be civil with you. you were nervous, sure, but who could blame you? you had recently gotten news that his time to serve his clan was over and that he was finally back home. it wasn’t as though the two of you had left on bad graces, so you were hopeful that he would at least remember you. but he could barely meet your eyes whenever you tried to catch him from across the room, acting as if you had never existed. 
he looked so different since the last time you had seen him. he was taller than most of the people in the room, his white hair just as bright as it used to be. he had gained muscle mass almost everywhere, and you felt yourself wondering just how much training he had to go through to look this way. you could see him talking to a girl, a smile on his face as he tilted his head to look at her better. you gave him some time to socialize, not wanting to intrude on anything. 
after an hour you decided that it was long enough, and tried to weave your way through the crowd to get to him. you had tried to call out to him, waving to him despite your mother quickly shoving your hand down, saying how improper it was. he heard you and you knew that he was purposely ignoring you, so you began to feel heavy-hearted after a couple of attempts at trying to catch his attention, eventually giving up. 
and now, despite you wanting to, you can’t even blame him for hating you. 
ever since your mother caught you, alone with him, a man you hadn’t seen in so long, she had swiftly and promptly proposed the idea of marriage only a few days later. it was really to save face for the two families, but it helped that this marriage would unify the two clans. 
you were sure he had ladies lined up to marry him, and you weren’t somebody he was actively trying to pursue. you didn’t even know if he was in love with somebody else if he shared a connection with a girl who was surely not you and cursed you for taking that away from him. 
not that it mattered now. 
all you wanted was to reconcile, to catch up on all the things happening in your lives. you wanted to hear all the stories he must have racked up over the years, not for this to happen. all the things he wanted for himself were ripped away because of one night from one simple act of kindness, and so you couldn’t find it in yourself to hate him for the way he acted.
you rarely come down for dinner whenever he’s there, but when you do, you feel those eyes turn icy, tracking your every movement till you sit down opposite of him. he doesn’t say much, just mutters a quiet “good evening” and you’re sure he’s only doing it so the maids don’t start to gossip. 
whenever your hand brushes his you feel him snap back, flexing his hand as though your touch burned him. he rarely came by to ask you about how you felt, and so you stopped trying to act kindly towards him if he didn’t want anything to do with it.
any semblance of romance you had dreamed of as a young girl quickly dissipated when you realized your husband wanted nothing to do with you, so you didn’t try to pursue any sort of love, deciding it’d be easier if he just did his part and you did yours so the two clans wouldn’t worry. 
he was always gone, which might be the best for the two of you. when he’s not training new men then he’s gone in a hunt. if he’s not in a hunt then he’s somewhere in his endless home, hiding away. 
you don’t know if he does this for him, for your sake, or for everybody else. 
“did you see your husband this morning?” one of your maids said excitedly as she tugged the undergarments over your raised arm, a gleeful smile on her face as she rambled about something gojo had done. you couldn’t help but return a smile of your own, although it didn’t quite meet your eyes. 
“yes, briefly. he’s busy with having to worry about the feast,” which wasn’t a total lie. you’d seen him hurriedly brush past you, quickly glancing at you as if he had forgotten you were his wife. you felt your chest tighten up with the way he glanced at your hand, and then quickly left. 
it was only a few nights away and you knew that it was the only buzz of news anybody seemed to talk about. unfortunately, for you, it meant having to socialize with other clans. you were fine with that aspect, you’d been doing it since you were young, but this time they had a right to be nosey. you knew there would be endless questions asked about the honeymoon stage of your marriage, to which you had no answer. 
sure, you’d been making up answers to hypothetical questions, but you didn’t know what gojo would be answering with, so you were only praying some of your responses would line up. 
for a night the two of you would have to pretend to be husband and wife, and while the people around you knew you were anything, you knew you had to commit to the role for the sake of you and your family’s dignity. 
but all this worrying isn’t good for your head, you could already feel the pang as you squeezed your eyes to try and get rid of it. you tried to move on from your worries, going to comment on her necklace, it seemed new, but a knock interrupted you. the two of your heads popped up, looking at where the sound came from. 
“come in!” you called out, buttoning up the last bits of your top as you thanked myra. she nodded, bowing as she went to open the door. you could hear her faint footsteps, not bothering to look up as she greeted the person behind. you guessed it was franchesca coming with the fabric samples. 
“sir,” you heard myra say, and your head swirled around, only to see the topic of your conversation make his way into your room, excusing your maid with a swift motion of his hand. she glanced once at you and then to him, ducking her head as she left, closing the door behind her as she left you two alone. 
you felt heat prickle at the back of your neck as he looked at you and then to your room. the two of you slept separately, as per your request the first night. you couldn’t bear the agonizing silence between the two of you, and he obliged. 
he was dressed for sparring. he had a loose-fitting tunic on, and pants that would allow him to move freely and without constraint. it was in moments like these that you were reminded of the fact that gojo was the strongest warrior that any of the clans had seen, that the child who once splurged on sugar in his tea was capable (and has done so before) of taking down entire armies. 
he had matured so much since what you last remembered from him. he no longer acted rashly nor spoke without thinking about what it was he wanted to say. but you still saw him eating sweets with the same fervor he did as a kid, and it never failed to make you smile, hiding it behind your hand so nobody could hear your quiet giggle. 
it had been a while since it was just the two of you, alone, and all you could think about was that night. your cheeks heated up just thinking about it, and it seemed that gojo could tell your discomfort with the way he cleared his throat, running a hand through his hair as he began to speak. 
“good morning,” he started, his eyes darting around, never setting on yours. it was funny if it didn’t cause your heart to hurt irrevocably, at how the strongest warrior in all the land could barely look at his wife. 
if only you knew.
“good morning.” you offered him a quick, disingenuous smile, moving around until you found your vanity, rummaging through your laid-out earrings as you kept your back to him, not trusting your face to give you away if you were to look at him for too long. 
you heard him take in an audible breath, but he continued whatever it was he wanted to say. 
“with the feast coming up, i want to clear some things with you,” you turned around, looping the earrings in as you nodded for him to continue. it was such a shame he was so stunning, effortlessly attractive as the sun caught off his cheekbones, bouncing off of his chest. he rested his hand on the hilt of his sword, and you wondered if being here was just as painfully awkward for him as it was for you. 
“we should act like we’re…” he trailed off and you felt yourself itching to leave, knowing what he meant without having to say it. 
“in love?” you finished and he slowly nodded, gnawing on his lip as you brushed past him, going to find the mirror so you could adjust your jewelry. you could see him fidgeting in the corner, and for once you could see a hint of nervousness and unease on his features. 
and a part of you hurt. you would never admit out loud that you harbored a crush on him for as long as you could remember. it hurt knowing that you acting like you were in love was perhaps the lost genuine form of love you could show. 
“what if they ask about the night we met?” you ask after a couple of seconds, looking up from what you were doing. deep down, you knew somebody was bound to ask. even if it was just your mother who had caught the two of you alone in that garden, the news of it somehow spread (she was always one to talk). 
he scratches his head, shrugging as he eventually settles on an idea.
“just tell them the truth.” 
the truth. 
tell them how he followed you after you had run outside, sick to your stomach after a man, who was as old as your father, had introduced himself as a possible suitor. how gojo, the most ruthless warrior in all the land, had carefully put his hands on your back as you retched, offering you a towel he had fetched from inside to clean yourself up. 
tell them how you hadn’t seen him in years but the first thing you had done was to hug him tightly. how his hands wrapped around your back as though they were the only things keeping you afloat. perhaps they were. 
tell them how he murmured words in your hair to bring you back to reality, his thumb running up and down your arms to calm you down. how it seemed like even though it had been years since you two last saw each other, it felt so right, so normal, to be back in his arms. 
tell them how he had looked at you with such worry, such care, unlike anybody else had looked at you, and you for once felt safe in somebody’s arms. 
tell them how your mother found you two in such a compromising position, with your head nestled in his chest as he tried his very best to soothe your cries. it was humiliating and embarrassing to be caught with a man you had only seen back in your teenage years, and especially so in such a vulnerable position. 
you shake your head, scoffing at the idea, “i’ll just come up with something,” was your answer and he nods along, realizing how the story would be too private to share with people you barely knew.
“and we need a reason for why,” he cleared his throat once again, pink dusting on his cheeks as his eyes dropped to your stomach. your eyes met his in the mirror, and one of your eyebrows raised, “well, you’re not exactly looking like you’re carrying a child at the moment.” 
you quickly looked away, the tension in the room increasing as you moved away from the mirror, doing anything you could to keep your hands occupied. you flushed at the comment, your throat drying up as you glanced at your stomach.
the two of you have barely touched, much less been intimate with each other. you were glad he hadn’t forced the idea onto you, instead, leaving it to you to bring up the topic. you only talked about it, once, the night of the marriage, and then never again. you knew that it would have to happen eventually, but you couldn’t do it right now, not with your state of mind. 
you scrambled to say something. in all honesty, you had been dreading this question. you hadn’t been answering any of the letters your mother sent, and you knew people were expecting to hear the news of a pregnancy. 
“we’ll just say we’ve been so busy and preoccupied with the politics of marriage that we couldn’t… consummate.” you offered and he just shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose as if this was the biggest inconvenience to him. 
you knew that this marriage was brought upon quickly and before either of you could object to it, but at least you tried to hide it away. if only he hadn’t acted so rashly that night, his hands on your shoulders, eyes bewildered as they racked over your figure. if only he had been more careful, or you were smarter in picking some place to be more concealed, you wouldn’t be put in this position. 
but neither of you was thinking ahead, and here you were. but he was certainly making sure that you knew of his contempt for this arrangement far more than you were. it was irritating, it scratched at your skin and ate away at your mind the more you saw each other.
“look,” he couldn’t take his eyes off of you, off of the way you were fiddling with the ring he had delicately placed on your hand so many weeks ago, “i can come up with whatever they ask, so just try your best to do the same.” you say, your voice tinged with anger, the ring on your finger acting as an anchor to the depths of the sea with the way it weighed down your movements, feeling your chest swell as he stayed silent, watching you as you opened the door. 
“i don’t-”
“um, i won’t be joining you for dinner, so don’t wait on me…i apologize, i need to work on some things for the feast…have a good day.” you swiftly murmured, shutting him in your own room as you left, your heart thumping erratically in your chest as you almost ran down the hallway. 
you had no idea how you were going to persuade the masses that this marriage was working if you couldn’t even persuade yourself. 
---
the feast of clans came earlier than you expected. 
you found yourself perched at the end of the table, gojo next to you, your stiff bodies mirroring each other as the people around you joyously helped themselves to the vast variety of food offered. 
you could barely touch the meal in front of you, your stomach churning uncomfortably with the sheer number of people that surrounded you. back home, you hated these feasts, opting to leave after a couple of bites and finish the rest of what you could pocket in your room, but here, as the clan leader's wife, you had no such luxury. 
“are you not hungry?” you looked to your side, gojo staring at your plate and then to you, his eyes squinting as he tried to decipher what you were feeling.
“i can’t eat,” you murmured, playing with your utensils as you swallowed thickly, “i don’t do well in large crowds.” 
he nodded once, looking out into the sea of bodies as he inched a little bit closer to you. he was donned in expensive fabrics, although his hair still messily fell all over. the candle that was lit in front of you had different hues of oranges and reds bouncing off of his pale skin, and if you didn’t know any better, the blush on his nose and cheeks could have been from the frigid winds from outside. 
“i’ll have myra save you a plate,” he said, giving you a curt smile as he went back to eating. 
you were momentarily taken aback by his comment, but tried not to show it, going back to fidgeting with your ring as you looked at the sea of people. nobody had thankfully come up to you and bombarded you with questions, but that didn’t mean that it wasn’t going to eventually happen. 
“thank you,” you say, glancing at him and then back to your plate. 
“anything for my wife,” he replies. it’s only for show, you remind yourself, after all, when was the last time he referred to you as such? 
“gojo,” an old man had walked up to your table, his face lined with wrinkles and a beard, dressed in orange as he offered gojo his hand to shake, “i’m glad to see that you finally settled down.”
gojo blushed deeply, trying to offer him a smile as he motioned to you. 
“it’s hard to resist marriage when such a woman offers it.” he says, and you feel your eyes widen as you try to laugh off his statement. 
“yes,” the old man chuckles, eyeing the two of you. he looked familiar, and you were sure you had seen him around these sorts of gatherings before, “it was only a matter of time before it happened. we all knew just how much you liked her back when you were children.”
the two of you sputtered on your coughs, and you felt a little smile grow on your face as gojo did what he could to usher the man away. 
you could tell with the way he shifted uncomfortably in his seat that gojo wasn’t expecting that, and before you could realize what you were doing you found yourself talking. 
“i’m not a fan of feasts.” you quickly said, the words tumbling out of your mouth before you could stop them. it’s not like you felt you owed him an explanation, but you said it regardless. 
gojo looked up from his plate, grabbing his cup so he could wash down his bite. 
“any feast?” he asked, and you could feel the way the air shifted. he was glad you brought up a different topic. 
“one’s as big as this,” you twisted your ring back and forth on your finger subconsciously, “i get nervous in big crowds.”
“i remember,” a small smile grew on his face as he thought back to when the two of you were children, “you would hide under the tables and force me to come with you.” 
you chuckled, blood rushing to your ears at the fact that he remembered this about you. it was the bare minimum of what you remembered from him, but you had convinced yourself that he had washed every memory of your last selves from his mind. 
a rush of distant memories came to your head; nights spent under the tables, laughing as you two tried to keep your voices down as you tried to dodge the feet. you could still hear his whispers of staying quiet, trying to sneak out so he could smuggle in some pastries for you to eat.
“the adults scared me; they were always loud and insistent on asking personal questions.”
“like they are now?” he replied back, a tilt in his voice as you nodded feverishly. 
“yes!” you covered your mouth with your hand as you let out a laugh, a genuine one as you tried to look as put together as you could, “i swear, it’s even worse than when we were young. just the other day a wet nurse came to me and told me the best positions to get into when giving birth!” it really was a mortifying moment, your eyes darting all around as the old lady even took it upon herself to demonstrate the movements, but gojo didn’t seem to mind, laughing along with you. his eyes twinkled as they took in your giggly state, years since he had last seen you like this. 
“i feel like i should apologize,” he starts, having to cover his own infectious smile as he ducks down his head in shame, “i had her sent up to your chambers.”
your mouth dropped open in shock, lightly smacking his arm as he grinned at the look on your face.
“to mortify me so that i would never leave?” your thumb moves your ring back and forth and gojo watches you as you do it. 
“you seemed sick at breakfast, but i guess she thought it was a different sort of sickness.” gojo tells you as he cuts off some of his meat, not knowing just how much his words affected you. 
you had forgotten how simple and easy conversations were with gojo. although this was under a guise to fool people, you felt at ease with him, as if you didn’t have to be on guard with your emotions when he was around. 
“do you still want to hide under the table now?” he asked a couple of seconds later, chewing on a potato as you shrugged, looking around before your lips grew into an apologetic smile. 
“…yes,” you admitted bashfully and he smiled at your honest response. 
“if you want to hide, i’ll-”
“satoru!” a booming voice interrupted your endless spiral of thoughts as the two of you glanced upwards at the sound, “it’s been too long!” 
a man with hair as dark as night and a smile wider than any ocean had come up to your table. he was the first one to do so all night, but gojo didn’t seem bothered by it. he seemed to smile, crescents forming around his eyes as he took his friend's hand.
“too long,” he emphasized with a charming grin, motioning to you and then back to the man in front of you as if he suddenly remembered the two of you and never met, “suguru, this is my wife, y/n. y/n, this is one of my oldest friends.” 
you extended your hand outwards and the man, suguru, took it, placing a soft kiss on the back of it as he shot you a playful smile. he wasn’t at the wedding, but then yet again, it was a rather quick one. the only people who had attended were your families. 
“it’s a pleasure to meet you.” he greeted, and you nodded in agreement, sitting back down next to gojo. you felt his long fingers reach for yours, enveloping your hand in his as your heart sputtered at the touch. 
“likewise,” you answered and the man grinned politely before he slightly tilted his head, looking at the two of you sitting next to each other. 
“he’s not bothering you, is he? i know satoru can be fiendish when he wants to be, so call for me and i’ll take care of him.” he teased and you could only smile tightly and laugh along, gojo’s fingers slightly tightening around yours as he moved your hand to rest on his thigh. 
“i can take care of him when he’s fiendish. i just have to take the sugar away, right?” suguru snorted and gojo glared, but it was playful the way he looked at you. 
his hands were warmer than you would have expected. you could feel the indents of calluses on his fingertips, could feel his thumb moving back and forth on your skin in a calming sort of manner. he didn’t look over at you as he did it, playing it off as second nature. 
“i apologize for not having much time to get to know you, but i have something i need to talk to gojo about. would you mind? it will only take a minute?” he asked, and gojo let go of your hand at the time of his friend's voice. you had to control your urge to roll your eyes, shifting in your seat as you motioned for suguru to talk to your husband, watching as he stood from his seat, leaving with the man as they went somewhere a little more secluded. 
you watched as gojo leaned down to hear whatever it was that suguru was whispering in his ear, pulling back with a frown on his face. he snapped something that only caused suguru to reel back, cast a quick glance at you, and then shake his head in clear annoyance. 
you saw gojo look up, his eyes landing on somebody from across the room, and you followed his stare, only to land on a girl. 
she wore a dark yellow tunic and skirt, colors from a neighboring clan. you hadn’t seen her before, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t known. just one look at the men surrounding her and you could pick up on their lovesick expressions. 
she motioned for gojo to come to her with a bend of her finger, slyly brushing her hair out of her face to make it look as though it was nothing, exiting from the dining area and vanishing into one of the halls. 
you looked down in case either of the men glanced over to see if you were staring. your eyes pierced through the meat on your plate, bile rising up your throat. 
you gave yourself some time, counting up to a minute before you looked back to where suguru and gojo were, finding suguru standing alone. you looked at where the girl was and saw a flash of white hair before it disappeared, your heart sinking as you glanced back at suguru, only to find him looking at you. 
you looked back at your plate, picking up a knife and fork as you stabbed the meat. you couldn’t keep anything down but it’s best to pretend.
---
gojo didn’t return until half an hour later, and you refused to talk to him. 
“did anybody bombast you with questions?” he teased, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. he didn’t seem to pick up on your darkened mood as your fingers dug into your dress. 
“i had a woman ask me if you had disappeared with your mistress, but that was it.” you remarked, silence filling the void between the two of you and you realized that all you had thought of him was crumbling down. 
you didn’t care for your image anymore, giving curt answers to any questions somebody had asked. you could feel his stare on the side of your face but you didn’t humor him in looking over, focusing on your plate instead. 
so what if he was seeing somebody else? you would have been naive to think that he wouldn’t wander. the two of you barely touched each other. 
once all the guests had left over the course of the following days, you did everything you could to steer away from gojo. 
you no longer came down for breakfast or dinner, choosing to eat in your own quarters. if he wanted to have his own secrets, he could do whatever he pleased. 
though you rarely saw suguru after the feast, he did try to talk to you the morning after it took place. he cornered you after you had left from breakfast, his once playful demeanor turned serious as you tried your best to end the conversation. 
“what you saw last night-”
“is none of my business,” you finished, raising your hand as you cut him off, “if gojo has his own private matters to deal with, i’m indifferent to them all.” 
“you know that’s not what it was.” his hand hovered over your arm, careful not to touch you but not wanting you to leave either. 
“i ruined his life, didn’t i?” you tilted your head a bit in questioning. after all, that’s all you could hear from the women who gossiped as they folded the laundry, or behind the hands of the girls who watched you and gojo interact and the mothers who wanted their daughters to be set up with him only sneered at you from across the tables. 
“you…where’d you get that from?” his brows scrunched together in confusion as you scoffed, hoping he couldn’t see the tears welling in the corner of your eyes at the sting of your own words. 
“i can see it on his face. if gojo wants to have his own affairs, he can have them. it’s not like we’re in love. hopefully, i find my own way out so that the two of us look happier and this marriage looks somewhat presentable to the public.” 
you didn’t want to see the look on his face, but you’re sure he reported this all back to gojo because he didn’t look at you once after it. 
you heard from a maid a week later that he was gone for another meeting with a clan, a southern one from what you picked up, and that you should probably go and wish him some luck. 
leading up to the night of his departure you anxiously paced around your room, your feet padding on the floor as your nightgown swished behind you. 
you hadn’t talked to gojo at all that day, and purposefully so. 
it was petty, you know it was, to not want to see him, but a part of you still aches when you look back on that night. at how he didn’t explain where he was even after you asked, at how it was suguru he had sent to fix his dirty work for him. 
“y/n?” a muffled voice came from outside your door. 
your head shot up at the familiar sound, quietly dragging yourself out from your bed as you grabbed the candle, hovering on the other side as you waited for him to say something else. 
“are you awake?” you heard a soft thud from his side, almost as if his head or arm had hit the door. 
you didn’t answer, still, waiting. 
“i’m leaving tomorrow and i wanted to see you before i left.” your heart skipped at his words, careful not to make a sound as you near the door. 
“if you’re sleeping i won’t bother you anymore but if you’re not,” you could hear the old stutter he had coming back, his words meshing together as he tried to regain control, “and you’re choosing to stay quiet, i…” he sighed, his forehead thumping down as he rested it on the door, “i wanted to apologize for the feast. i shouldn’t have left you alone, and if you’d open the door, i would explain why…” he could see the flicker of the candle from underneath the crack, and saw the way it blew away, darkness following suit. 
you walked back to your bed, turning your back to the door as you set the candle down on your table. 
“goodnight,” his voice was quieter than before, and you felt guilty, but pushed the bitter feeling down.
a couple of seconds later you heard him let out a sigh of defeat, his footsteps leading away from your bedroom as you curled into yourself, hoping you would let your heart stop taking control of what your head should be doing. 
---
gojo didn’t return for a while, and you grew more impatient by the day. 
it normally took him and his men a week at maximum, and once two had passed, you felt yourself growing uneasy. 
you tried to act as passive as you could, but even myra could pick up on your growing apprehension. you have never voiced your worries over your husband before, but she knew this wasn’t like any other time. 
when you went to bed, the only thing you could dream about was that night, your brain re-running the images as you tossed and turned. 
“are you alright?” he asked, his hands on your elbows as you could barely speak, your blurry vision impairing your sight. you could only see a mop of white in the darkness, your stomach betraying you as you tried to keep the sick down. 
“i don’t feel too good,” you mumbled, trying to put some distance between the two of you as you pushed him away, only to feel him coming closer as he placed a hand on your forehead and then to your cheeks. 
“you’re burning up,” he muttered under his breath, guiding you gently so that you wouldn’t trip over your feet. 
“i’m sorry, you can go back inside, i don’t want to keep you out here.” you were slurring your words as you tried not to throw up on him. you wiped at your eyes so that you could see him better, only to reel back in utter shock to see the face of your childhood friend frowning down at you. 
your mouth formed in the shape of his name, going to say something else, before you hunched over, feeling his strong hands pat your back and keep the hair out of your face as you felt your world tilt on its axis. 
you ate your dinner at the table, eyeing his empty seat as you tried to shove his last night out of your mind. you shouldn’t feel this way, especially about a man who feels nothing towards you, but your little heart was churning in its confines the more you let yourself think about it.
sitting in the same spot where the feast took place only brought back the venomous taste in your mouth, and so you pretended that you were back home, eating somewhere without the worry of your life weighing you down like a thousand weights on your shoulders. 
myra tried her best to distract you, but she could see the distant look in your eyes, how your voice never seemed too genuine. she began to worry for you, but it seemed like your mind was fixed on one thing. 
until you found yourself pacing around your room, just like you were the night you last heard of him, playing with the ring on your finger as the moon carded through your window. 
“my lady,” you heard myra through the door, her voice shaky and a bit more on edge than usual, “there’s-” but before she could finish it slammed open, revealing the man you’d been biting your nails over, standing in the flesh.
his eyes were a dark blue, squinted as they looked right through you. his chest heaved as he looked like he was trying to catch his breath. you could see the streaks of blood that lined his usually clean clothes, the red that stained his cheeks and jaw. 
he looked feral, and it was throwing you off balance. 
“out.” he snapped at myra, and before you could scold him for his tone she fled, the door shutting roughly behind her. 
the two of you could only stare at each other. you didn’t know what to think after weeks of uselessly worrying over him, not knowing about his well-being, to see him here, in front of you, but looking different than he ever had. 
“are you alright?” 
you could barely get it out, the works sticking on your tongue as you took a tentative step forward, not knowing what to do with his state of being. 
he eyed the blood on his shirt, wiping at his cheeks as if he had forgotten it was there. he didn’t look too dirty, less dirty than one would expect from a five week endeavor through the woods, but he didn’t look too good either. 
“you were awake.” is all he says, his chest still moving up and down as though he couldn’t breathe properly. 
“that night i came by, you were awake. i saw your candle, i heard your footsteps.” he says this as though it’s fighting its way out of his mouth as if it’s all he could think about to tell you. 
“i,” you pretend that you don’t care, shrugging, “i wasn’t up to talk.” 
“you were with suguru.” he snaps, his tone shocking you, and he steps back as if he had shocked himself. he jammed his palms into his eyes, tilting his head upwards before he looked back at you. 
“for five weeks you were all i could think about. i wanted to come back, i wanted to tell you what i felt but we kept running into issues with other tribes and clans.” 
“what could you possibly think about that occupied your mind for five weeks?” you so desperately wanted your voice to come out strong but it sounded weak, as though you were hanging off of his every syllable. 
“you had told suguru that you were going to find your…own way out,” he took a step forward, and here you could see the scratches on his chest, the cuts on his arms, “i was praying to every god there was that you hadn’t found somebody in these past weeks, that you hadn’t…”
you could barely believe his words, not knowing if you should feel offended, shocked, worried, or a mix of all those three. 
“what business would it be to you if i did?” you hate that this was the response you settled on. hurt flashed across his face but he tried to regain his composure. 
“you are my wife-”
“and you are my husband!” you snapped and watched as he was momentarily taken aback by your outburst, but you continued your nose flaring, “you cannot argue with me on this when you left with some girl in the middle of our feast!” you felt all your emotions finally pouring out and you had no control over them, “everybody was talking about it, everybody was looking at me in pity!” your voice cracked, tears poking at your eyes as you pointed an accusatory finger at him. 
gojo looked down, running a hand through his hair as he pointed a finger back. 
“if you had let me explain myself, you would have known that she was trying to do what you thought she was. i left as quickly as i could but you would barely look at me!” you wanted to rip your hair out, cursing yourself for ever feeling any sort of worry for this man. 
“i know that this marriage was the last thing you wanted but at least you could play the part of a husband! you didn’t send a single note, anything to tell us that you were okay, that you were alive!” you heaved, fidgeting with your ring as you wiped at your cheeks, “and you come back here accusing me of adultery? all everybody could talk about was the fact that you were warming somebody else’s bed! they said a meeting never takes this long unless something…somebody else comes up.” your voice wobbles at the end, and you find yourself furiously rubbing your tears away, hiding your sniffing as though that would do anything.  
he paused upon seeing you cry, his face falling as he tried to step forward but you angled yourself away from him, hoping he’d get the hint. 
he wanted to hold you, to tell you that all the rumors you were hearing were false and that the only room he had left in his heart was for you. but he couldn’t blame you for feeling or thinking this way. hell, he was so sure that he’d open the door to find another man comforting you that he didn’t even stop to consider what must have been going through your head all these weeks. 
“one of the clans tried to attack us, and we weren’t ready for it. that is why we took so long.” 
you sniffle again, not caring for his explanation although it did soothe a part of your past self. 
“you could have at least sent a letter telling me what happened,” you fidget with your ring, your thumb running over the diamond, “everybody asked me questions that i should have had answers to, but i had no idea where you were or what you were doing…” he nods, his lips pressed into a thin line as he agreed with you. 
“you're right,” his voice was thick with emotion, the words slurring in his mouth as he found himself anchored in place, not knowing what to do. but you were rambling, your thoughts going on and on and you couldn’t stop yourself. 
“…but i know you don’t like letters, so the least you could have done was send a parchment saying i’m alive or something like that.” you rub at your nose again, feeling like all the weeks of worry we’re coming to a standpoint. 
he looked confused now, if anything, and scratched at his jaw. 
“what do you mean?” 
you scoff at the audacity, rolling your eyes as you feel anger prickle at your skin. 
“you never once responded to any of my letters. in my eyes, that must mean you have some sort-”
“letters? what letters?” 
you glance at him, taking in his shaking form. 
“come on gojo,” you feel embarrassed as he urges you to speak, having to spell it out for him, his eyes pleading with you to continue, “the ones from when you left for training.”
his mouth opens and then closes, looks at the ground and then back up to you as he shakes his head. you could hear your fireplace crackling in the background. the only sounds circling the room were the pops of ember and your breathing. 
“i…” he feels like there’s cotton in his mouth, hoping that you’re lying, “i never got any letters.” 
the fire crackled once again and you could almost hear a pin drop as you shook your head vehemently at his statement. 
“n-no, no you did. i wrote to you every week, i sent one every week for two years and you never responded and my mother said that you must have forgotten about me…” and you trail off, the tears in your eyes stoning as he furiously wipes at his own eyes, and for the first time since you had seen him fall down when he was a kid, you saw his own tears staining his cheeks. 
“nobody gave me your letters. i thought that you,” he takes a deep breath, tongue poking inside his cheek as he tried to control himself, “i thought that you didn’t care for me anymore.” 
you hug your midsection, your emotions running wild at his words. 
“i was under the impression that you hated me.” you admit, and he looks as though you stabbed him through the heart. if only others could see the powerful warrior now, stripped bare to his conscience and all he could think about was you. 
“why…why would you think such a thing?” you two inch closer without knowing it, longing to touch each other, wanting to know that the other was really there and that this wasn’t a figment of your imaginations. 
“gojo, you could barely looked at me that night at the gala and now it seems as though you, well, look at you - you’re flushed!” you’re grasping at straws, motioning towards his face,  twinged with pink as you rub at your nose, “you seem angry whenever i am near-” 
“the only person i am angry at is myself.” gojo whispers, but his voice echoed around the expanse of your skull. 
“yes, i’m aware,” you feel cold despite the fire in the corner, your tone carrying an air of know as you scorn, “i know the last thing you expected by comforting me was a marriage but-” 
“you think i am angry because i married you?” he was moving closer, his hands shaking, his eyes wet. you could see the ring on his finger glow in the dim light of the fireplace, how it shined brighter than any of the night skies, “the only good thing that has happened to me these last few months was being able to introduce myself as your husband. i know that i stripped you bare of any love you may have had for any other man, but call me selfish for feeling glad that i did.” 
you could barely focus on what was happening, his words sinking deep into your skin, going to your bones. 
“i told myself that you had forgotten about me those years i left. when i saw you that night i was so sure you had come with the intention of finding a suitor that i didn’t want to distract you, but then i saw that man come up to you…” and he couldn’t finish, choking on his words as he stuttered, and you saw a glimpse of the boy you had fallen in love with so long ago. 
“and i followed you out. if i knew that simply being alone with you would have gotten me married to you then i would have cornered you in a closet the moment i saw you enter the dining hall.” 
a tear rolls down your chin, splattering on the ground beneath you as you struggle to make sense of what he was saying. it felt as though the months of being married to him were weeks spent pacing around your own rooms, thinking the same worried thoughts, and not having the strength to confront each other about it. 
“you…you don’t hate me?” your voice is timid, almost not believing yourself as the statement tumbled out. gojo had the audacity to laugh a bit, shaking his head as strands of his hair fell into his face. 
“my every waking moment is spent thinking of you. when i was in training, you were all i could dream about, hoping that when i’d come home i could finally have you to myself. 
“you have control over my emotions, my mind, my soul, and i cursed myself for taking away your options for a husband, but the only thing i’ve wanted to do these past few weeks was to hold you in my arms. to tell you just how deeply i yearn for your love back.” 
he wiped at his cheeks, glistening in the faint light. he looked angelic, despite the grime and blood that decorated his clothing. you didn’t want to think about the men he had killed just to come back, to come back to you, and the thought of ever losing him hurt you more than when you spent nights wondering why he never responded to any of your letters. 
you couldn’t stop your feet from leading you toward him, and you could only watch as he met you in the middle, catching you with all his strength, holding you as if you weighed nothing, and it only took a few seconds before your lips collided. 
it was rushed, and messy as you felt his hands holding you as if you carried the weight of the universe. your teeth clashed, your tears staining each other's skin as your hands gripped at his hair, using it for leverage as he slipped his tongue into your mouth, enjoying the whimper that escaped your lips when he nipped at yours. 
it was what years of longing and desperation felt like. how it felt like you two just molded into each other as if your bodies were cut out with the other in mind. you felt like your heart was about to stop beating, and you knew gojo felt the same with the way he’d whine against your lips, wanting you more than you could have ever imagined. 
“we’ve been stupid people, haven’t we?” you whispered as you pulled away, trying to catch your breath as he smiled against you. if only you knew just how much he’d been wanting to kiss you like this, to see your swollen lips as you looked at him from beneath your eyelashes. you were his venus, his only saving grace, and he could only vex himself for ever making you feel anything but love. 
“very, “ he pressed a kiss to the corner of your eyes, “very,” to your nose, “stupid,” his lips were on your cheeks, feeling like he was breathing in new air at the sound of your laughter, “people.” he pressed his lips to yours again, cherishing in the way you whined at the harshness. 
he had spent months convincing himself that you no longer cared for him. weeks of perilous training to only come back to a bed and dream of a girl who didn’t share his emotions when in reality you did. he wants to track down the letters you had sent him, to read every word carefully, as if each sentence carried its own riddle inside of it. he wanted to apologize for never having the honor of experiencing your skilled penmanship, for leading you to believe that he had simply forgotten about you. 
“gojo,” your fingers curl in his tunic, your heat transferring, trying to be rational in such an irrational state of being, “you’re bleeding, i should call for the doctor.” he didn’t stop kissing your face, moving to your jaw as he smiled hearing you shudder. 
“it’s not my blood,” he murmured and you wanted to smack him for how cocky he sounded, “and don’t call me gojo.” he nipped at your lips again. 
“husband?” you found yourself smiling at the title, but he shook his head. you saw how he was trying to hide his own grin. 
“sire?” you tested it out teasingly, hating how it sounded. he seemed to agree with the way he grimaced at the name. 
“my lord?” he wanted to bottle up your laughter forever, knowing he could get drunk off of the sound. his nose nudged up at your jaw, pressing wet kisses wherever he could. 
“hmm, what about my liege?” you're curling a strand of his hair around your fingers letting him settle you down on your vanity as you spread your legs so he could slot between them. 
“my men call me that.” he says, cringing as it falls off your mouth. you pretend to think, not knowing how you were able to live without this banter for as long as you did. 
“satoru?” you felt breathless saying it after so long. but he still didn’t seem to find it satisfactory enough, a pout on his lips as he wanted you to find a better one. 
“close, but only when you’re angry with me.” you tuck that information in the back of your mind for if you ever need to scold him, your cheeks flushed as he interlocks his fingers through yours. 
“‘toru…?” his lips broke into a giddy smile, and you had to control yourself as he swooped back in for a kiss. his eyes were so much softer when he laughed, the kind ones you fell in love with so many nights ago. 
“there it is,” his voice was husky, raw as your fingers gripped at the baby hairs at his nape. he was taking your air away with him and you couldn’t find it in yourself to fight back for it. 
“i forgot how cheeky you can be,” you bite your lip to keep the moans inside, feeling feverish as his tongue ran over his love marks, not knowing what to do yourself as you scrambled to grab onto something to keep you afloat.
“you have no idea how much self-control it’s taken not to ravage you,” his breath is hot on your skin, and he’s tugging at your shirt, fingers slightly brushing upon your breasts, “every night you’d come down for dinner i wanted something different to eat.”
“stoppp,” you mewled, not used to this. he chuckles as his slender fingers work to untie the knot keeping you together, tugging at the string until it falls, revealing your naked chest, heaving as the fabric pooled at your hips. 
you wanted to cover yourself up under his heavy gaze, to take the fabric and hide, but you felt pierced by his stare. his eyes darted to yours as if checking to see if you were okay. when you gave him a timid nod, it seemed as though it prompted him to finally move. 
his fingers were gentle as they ran across your waist, large as they covered the soft of your stomach, eager as they went upwards. he looked like he was crazed and starved, as if you were his last meal and he couldn’t wait for the sweetness death would give. 
your breath stuttered as his fingers found your mounds, rubbing a soothing thumb over your nipples as his pupils grew. he was eager as he flicked them over and over, a cheshire grin growing as they hardened under his touch. 
“you’re perfect,” he murmured, dropping down so he could suckle at your tits, his spit shining in the light of the fire, and you tilted your head back, soft moans escaping as his tongue drew circles around your buds. 
“f-fuck, ‘toru, that’s,” you couldn’t even finish your sentence, his second hand coming to cup your other tit, not wanting to leave her unattended as he sucked and bruised, wanting to forever leave his mark on your untainted skin. 
“good?” he’s so cocky, and you want to smack the smug smirk off his devilishly handsome face. 
his knee is purposefully rubbing against your clothed clit, and you feel yourself subconsciously rubbing yourself against it. you hope that he can’t feel how drenched you are from him just sucking your tits, but he pinches you, pressing his tongue flat against your skin as he looks up through his lashes.
“horny from just me touching you?” he’s teasing you, it’s so painful the way you want, need him like oxygen. you tug on his hair roughly, bringing his spit-soaked lips back to yours as you bite down on his lower one, enjoying the groan you draw out from him. 
“don’t be mean ‘toru,” you taunt, and you feel him melt in your fingers, nodding to your request as he lowers himself down. 
he presses wet kisses down your torso, stopping just above your hips, his fingers hooking along the rim of your underwear, being careful and slow in his movements as he waits for any objections, making sure you’re okay with this. 
but you were in your own world, hitching your leg over his shoulders, drawing him in closer to you, sweat dotting your forehead as he licks a stripe over the cotton on your pussy, smiling to himself at the taste of you. 
you were so sweet, sweeter than any desert he’d indulge himself on. he was sure that once he had a taste of you he’d be able to repent, to go before any god, and to tell them that you were his religion.
he had spent countless nights, tossing and turning in his bed, the only thing putting him to sleep being the idea of coming home to you. running after you that night was him running home to you, regardless of where you were. he was glad he got your hand in marriage, but if he had to, he’d wait another ten years just to hold you in his arms again.
he peels your underwear off, a string of your arousal connecting to it, and he tucks it in his pants, for safekeeping. 
“you’re going to be the death of me.” he says against your heat, his nose rubbing against your clit as your eyes wring shut in pleasure. his hands grip your thighs, making sure you stay in place as he kitten licks around where you need him the most. 
“don’t let…don’t let any of your enemies hear,” your voice comes out in bits, your hand resting on the back of his head as your leg tightens around him, “don’t want them to come after me or something.” 
he snorts, pinching your thighs as if anybody could come within a ten feet radius of you without losing an eye. 
his lips come closer to where you desperately want him, a finger prodding at your tight entrance, his tongue finding your clit as he begins to suck. 
it’s all too much, the sensations far better than your own fingers have ever proved to be. 
his fingers are skilled, long enough that they reach deep within you. he sinks one fully in, your walls clamping around him as he continues sucking your clit, his teeth grazing it every so often, making your head thump against the wall. 
“talk to me, how do you feel?” his mouth discontented from your bud and you whine at the loss. he sinks in another finger to make up for it, but he doesn’t move them, waiting for your response. 
“‘s good,” one of your hands is fisting your discarded robe, trying to hold onto your senses as you desperately nod, “don’t stop ‘toru, please,” and he obliges, loving the sounds of your begging, but loving the sound of your pleasures more. 
his fingers stretch you open and you welcome the sting, your nails digging into him as you long for more. 
he switches his mouth with his hand every now and then, his tongue taking the place of his fingers as it licks at you, groaning at your taste as he eats you out with his entire being, his chin shining with your essence and his spit as his thumb rubs furiously at your clit. 
“mmhhh, just like that, fuck!” you’ve never heard your voice at this pitch, never knew it was possible to feel this way. his other hand reaches up to flick at your nipple, the extra sensation making white dot around your vision. 
you feel yourself getting closer to the sweet release, feel your wall clamp around him even tighter as that knot in your stomach builds to a crescendo. 
“come on, let go f’me, know you want to, know you can.” he spurs you on, his fingers unrelenting as they piston in and out of you, reaching that gummy spot that makes you go dumb.
“fuck, ‘toru, m’gonna, m’gonna come!” you cry out and you’re sure anybody walking past you could hear the debauchery. your thighs were starting to shake and you felt it all go black as you reached your high, your orgasm washing over you unlike anything you’ve ever felt. 
you creamed around his fingers, gushing around him as you wailed out, tears dotting your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure you were feeling. you squeezed around him, wanting to never lose what this felt like, trying to catch your breath as his mouth never stopped sucking at your nub before he was sure your climax was over. 
when he finally pulled away the only thing that could be heard was the two of you, trying to come back down as stupid smiles made their way onto each of your faces. 
he was boyishly charming as he stood in front of you, licking yourself off of his fingers as he grinned at the taste. you couldn’t be bothered to be embarrassed after having him just between your legs, but you still felt a heat blossom in your chest. 
“so…” you awkwardly start, sweat dripping down your face from just how hot the room had suddenly gotten as you avert your gaze, “what now?” 
he shrugged nonchalantly, despite the fact that his heart was about to beat it’s way out of his chest. you let him pick you off of the vanity and tucked you safely away into his chest as he led you to your bed, gently setting you down in your mountain of pillows and blankets as you felt sleep etch away at you. 
“i’m going to clean you up,” he pressed a kiss to your hair, smiling at the way you giddy smiled at whatever he did, a dopey grin on your face as your hand searched for his, interlocking you fingers with his as if you didn’t want to watch him go, “if you let me.” 
you yawn, your head tilting as he sat down at the edge of your bed, still not letting go of your hand as your fingers run through the soft pelts beneath you. 
“and what about you?” your chin points the obvious hard-on growing in his pants. he looks down as if suddenly realizing, and he plays it off by looking back up to you with a wink. you felt your mouth going dry at the size of it, not knowing if you could even be able to take something as big as that. 
“for another day,” he promises, and you’re sure he’s not going to forget it. not like you want him to.
“and then?” 
your question lingers in the air. you don’t want to wake up to him acting like this never happened, as if your feelings were only a figment of your wildest dreams. but his eyes hold onto yours, never letting go as he brushes some strays away from your face. 
“and then i get a bigger bed for my room because there’s no way i’m letting you sleep here alone after this.” his thumb runs along the palm of your hand, his fingers tracing patterns into the soft of your legs. 
“and then?” 
“and then you tell me all the things i missed out on when i was gone. i’ll tell you about the time suguru shaved my head, and you’ll tell me about anything on your mind.” 
“what if i run out of things to say?” sleep is overtaking your voice, and you’re already nodding off, not even truly knowing what you were asking. 
“then i’ll make up stories so that you’re not bored.” he finds a clean towel, soaking it in water from a nearby pitcher as he drags it slowly across your body, as if your fragile and made of porcelain. 
“how do i know you’re not a dream? you might just be,” you yawn, rubbing at your eyes as your finger traces his ring, “you might just be my own mind tricking me.” your eyes are shutting, but the teasing smile on your face never leaves. 
“because a dream wouldn’t hide under a table with you if you asked.” he whispers, kissing your lips with a soft peck as he pulls the blanket over you, letting you sleep into a slumber as he crawls in next to you, holding you to his chest just as he did that night, just as he will every night from now on, and just as he longed for those nights he wished you next to him.
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