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#so now as an adult i feel this intense desire to prove that just because im not the epitome of femininity
cypressnmarigolds · 2 years
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NSFW Bo Sinclair HCs + angst
I can't believe it. I've finally managed to start carving out a little space in my mean mind where I can feel safe and comfortable thinking about Bo. This is of course thanks to help from @slutforguts @early20sfailingplenty and @visceravalentines. You three have done some amazing work helping me get comfortable with Bo, even if you don't realize it, so thank you!
Anyway Let's get to it!
Contains: Bo being a complex, complicated human being. Switch, soft needy Bo.
🚫 Minors, blank and no-age blogs are not welcome on my blog or to interact with my posts. You will be blocked. 🚫
•First things first. I think Bo is very... complex. He goes back and forth with himself a lot. On one hand, he doesn't want to be a monster. He wants to be be better than his father (I think Victor facilitated a lot of the abuse Bo faced, Trudy probably just went along or didn't care unless she was pissed a Bo) and he wants to prove his parents wrong
•On the other hand, his parents taught him, told him he was a monster, wouldn't want to disrespect the dear old folks any would he? He also enjoys feeling so powerful in instilling fear and causing suffering to his victims. Making them feel like he did.
• This means Bo is going to have very complicated feelings about you as his (potential) s/o at first. He's going to be angry at you for making him feel so soft and weak and vulnerable, but at the same time, he wants to be so, so good for you, good to you. He has to be. Show you and everyone he's not a monster.
•When Bo first meets you, something clicks for him. Something about you catches his interest, makes him feel... something. He feels some pulsing incessantly in his brain, telling him he can't let you go. He can't hurt you, he can't kill you or scare you away. He doesn't know why, he just can't. His mind is an enigma. *cue image of spilt milk*
• Now, I Cannot, CANNOT imagine Bo putting his potential s/o in the chair. One, because I can't stand the idea , personally it would destroy my mind, and I can't even fathom coming out of that and still wanting Bo. I can't. Two, like I said, Bo doesn't want to be a monster to you. He won't put you there. He doesn't want to put you through what his parents did to him.
•He might actually be somewhat skittish and more reserved around you in the beginning. He's angry he feels so soft, but he's trying to be good for you. He's still gonna be a charming flirt, he may express frustration that you don't understand at times, but he is going to try SO hard not to take his shit out on you. Any visitors that roll in during this time get the brunt of his inner turmoil Vincent's having to do serious overtime, and also hiding away. Lester too, will be less present in town.
•Things are gonna be rocky and tense for a bit.
• I don't think he's gonna want sex too soon either. He has... intense tastes when it comes to sex, and doesn't want to scare or hurt you. He may believe that his desires are fucked up. He might see BDSM as a form of torture (given that all his kink gear is stored in the torture room) and has no place in pleasure shared between two consenting adults. Oh Bo, you are so very wrong.
• Bo will probably spill his guts to you one night after heavy drinking. When his scars itch and he scratches till they bleed, and the memories are too much to bear on his own. He will pour out everything to you though gritted teeth and sobs. What happened to him and his brothers, his parents, all his complicated feelings about you and his desire to be a good man for you despite how much of a monster he feels he is because of everything. He needs to know you love him anyway, and you do.(otherwise you wouldn't be here)
• Once all is said and done, you guys can work on things more calmly. Things will be worked and talked through. They won't be perfect, but Bo will be overjoyed that he gets to have this with you. Once you guys get to work on building your sex life, this fun really kicks off. 😈
• Bo loves to be dominant (but he is a switch) He loves tying you up, gagging you, teasing you, overstimulating you, denying you, spanking you, using toys on you... There's so much he loves to do with you.
•Anything you're comfortable with, he'll do. And he will praise/degrade you for being so brave and needy for him. And he will refer to himself as Daddy if you're on board with it I don't make the rules.
If you want some samplings Bo's dirty talk...
"You're my brave, strong little darlin' ain't 'cha? Lettin' me tie you up like this and have my way with you? Look at 'cha, squirmin' for me already.
"You gonna come for Daddy, huh? Is my needy little slut ready to come for me? Thaaaat's it, there you go darlin', make a mess for me."
"Is it too much sugar? You can't take another spanking? You sure? Cause this mess you're makin' all over my lap says otherwise."
•Now, Bo is a switch. Sometimes he needs to hand over the reigns. Let someone else do the thinking but sometimes he feels he needs to be put in his place or punished. Times like those can tricky to maneuver. Check in with him often and make sure he's not pushing himself past his limits. If you're domming him and you feel like something isn't right, use your safeword. Make sure he knows you don't want to hurt him. That you don't want to actually punish him, make him suffer. Sometimes he thinks he deserves it. Keep an eye on him.
• Now when Bo just wants to be fucked dumb and out of his mind? Ohhhh fuck you're in for a treat. He won't allow you to bind his hands, but he loves it when you take his hands in yours and press them to either side of his head while you fuck him.
•He loves being overstimulated (despite what his cries and whines may suggest) Does NOT like being denied. Edging is great, but ruined orgasms and straight up denial are a no-go for him.
• For some reason I can't stop thinking about Bo being blindfolded and having as many toys as possible used on him. So... blindfolds. Good.
If you want more samplings of Bo's dirty talk...
"Oh FUCK! Please! Ri--right there darlin' Yes! Thank you, thank you, thank you!"
"Ah! Please... N-no more. I-I can't-- Ah Fuck! Again please. please!"
"Shit, you feel so, so, sososo good inside me. Fuck! Harder!"
lots of moans he tries to hold in, but they only turns into whines.
•Bo also loves getting on his knees and between your thighs. Because he KNOWS how powerless you are with him kneeling between your legs, staring intensely up at you with those blue eyes. He may be on his knees, but he is fully in control. He loves watching you squirm under his gaze and falling apart.
OK. Holy shit. I'm exhausted. I had to get this all out while it was still in my mind. It's waaaaaay past my bedtime but I am so happy I got to do this. I hope you enjoyed!!
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torque-witch · 5 months
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Listening to some songs on my old high school playlists just make it painfully aware of how badly I wanted to fall in love and find something completely opposite of my parents and also how desperately sad I was.
It really made me so naive and trusting that people always have good intentions and were always looking for romance. Not the music necessarily, but my deep desire to prove that my parents just were too cowardly to admit they weren’t in love.
In a way I guess it paid off because I am the only person in my immediate family that is in a healthy relationship.
But the things I had to endure before that really made it hard for me to accept any kind of affection because I stopped believing in it and we wouldn’t have made it if he wasn’t patient.
Once a man screams at you that expecting them to greet you and be happy to see you is as absurd as them rushing home on a horse in the rain with hurried desire…
The other sending pictures of the baby they had with the person they were hiding from you
The other hurriedly driving from another state to see you in the hospital only to say they never meant to make you feel special
The other telling you you’ll never find a man who wanted you if you continued to look like a dyke
The other a 10+ year stalker
The other a pathological liar
High school me was not prepared to deal with all that as an adult. But I never stopped trying because I love people too much. I’m actually a very social person and love learning about people. I love people’s quirks and personalities. But I feel like I used up all that energy early in life making other people happy, and it’s hard for me to let people make me happy. I always feel like I’m too intense when I finally open up. And I am. I guess that’s what makes being hurt such a trauma for me. I would do anything for anyone but I am very tired now. But I do miss falling in love with the way people are. Even just as friends.
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lupi-usque-ad-finem · 9 months
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okay so I may need kin/therian related advice atm, I found out about therianthropy when I was 9 and it resonated extremely well for me and I pretty much made it my whole personality until when I was 11 and then it died down and I thought I wasn't therian anymore except for once or twice a year where Id make it my whole personality for a week again then forget about it. Im 13 now and going through it again, this time is different though as Im actually putting research into it and trying to find the best explanation of my therianthropy but I guess Im just worried if Im chasing a feeling or trying to force something that isn't there. I know that Therianthropy is a personal experience and Im not asking you to tell me, but I would like to have maybe a list of things to check if I am still a 'true' Therian or not or if it was just me being a kid.
I went through the same feelings as you at your age! I was 10/11 when I truly realised what therianthropy meant to me, but part of me thought I was faking it all or it wasn’t real. It took some time to connect the dots to my behaviour, but that’s okay! I think researching it in the first place to learn more about how you feel is proves it’s real in itself :)
I feel as a ‘checklist’ though would have to be a personal preference/reflection as time goes on since the feelings of therianthropy and kinning can shift over years and depends on the person. To me it’s a very emotional, core feeling, but a general list of my similarities I’ve noticed that stick around through the years are:
feeling the inner shift at a low grade/subconscious level (mine is a near constant mental shift with daily physical shifts)
outward animalistic tendencies, especially in emotional displays (especially negative and commonly at a young age) such as biting, hissing, growling, but also positive ones such as whining when excited, howling in happiness or greeting, play fighting like pups, head rubbing or bonking/scent marking, etc
I arrange my room to feel like a den or cave with numerous pillows and blankets to mimic a forest floor with ambient lights and kin related memorabilia. I’ve had the same tail for nearly a decade, multiple sets of canine fangs to wear, my two favourite collars, fuzzy socks to mimic long fur, and blankets piled in a circle to keep a cozy cot to sleep. my room feels like a den i can come back to especially during intense shifts
a strong, almost overwhelming desire to learn as much as you can about a possible kin. Media, movies, books, and especially documentaries are all great places to start!
feeling as though your experience of this world is different and more ‘primal’ for lack of a better word. It is an inward feeling recognising the outward view. I feel most things in black and white and I’ve always felt my mental state it outside the standard human, like I’m looking at the world through canine/animalistic eyes
strong emotional/mental connection to an animal, kin, or environment that just feels different. I’ve always felt incredibly connected to wolves and wildlife and find myself most at peace when I am in the forest or climbing trees. I’ve wept with joy before when I’m in this deep state of peaceful shift because it just feels so right :’)
I’ve noticed as I’ve grown that these feelings are most intense at a young age like yours because you’re just recently discovering this about yourself and realising that you could be therian, there’s waves of emotions and doing research is of the utmost importance to learn as much as you can about yourself. If one day it suddenly stops don’t worry! I’ve felt the same before. When you’re a pup it seems to shift and change every day, but that’s to be expected! I went about two years not even recognising my behaviour as therianthropy despite knowing what it was at that time. As an adult I can clearly see the similarities between my behaviour and mental space as a pup vs now.
I believe therianthopy and kinning is a personal experience that can be vast and interwoven, varied in its beauty and complexity. I’m proud you’re taking the initiative to learn more and carve out a space for yourself! Don’t try to force it or feel like you need to find out your kin asap, it will reveal itself with time. Allow yourself grace. I remember how my own feelings were confusing at times, but that’s okay! It’s just part of learning. You’re doing great pup, don’t harbour shame or fear in this, you’re still young and remember to take as much time as needed to figure it out :)
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loveoaths · 2 years
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on kimimaro & jealousy.
kimimaro handles jealousy well, and by well, i mean not at all.
jealousy is a rare emotion for him to feel. jealousy implies externalized desire: you have to want something, or someone, so much that you don’t want anyone else to have it either, and you have to be insecure enough to fixate on why they have it and you don’t.
kimimaro is not traditionally insecure. he knows he’s strong. he knows he is a good shinobi. he knows he is obedient and that he was once the perfect tool, the perfect vessel. for a long time those were the only things kimimaro wanted to be, and since he already was them, he has no reason to be insecure. ( also, he just tends to be rather solid in his view of himself for better and for worse. ) he had everything he wanted and no reason to doubt why he had it.
the only exceptions to this static state are his feelings about kabuto and orochimaru’s closeness. kabuto had a level of connection to orochimaru that kimimaro could never achieve nor fully understand. kimimaro served orochimaru, but kabuto was their confidante. despite the machinations and the treachery, there was a fondness between them that kimimaro never received from orochimaru, and it hurt. he rationalized to himself that it didn’t matter because he had been chosen to be orochimaru’s vessel ( the highest honor! ) whereas kabuto was merely orochimaru’s second in command, but he never quite convinced himself. watching them laugh, whisper secrets, and work late into the night on plans while he guarded the door made kimimaro experience jealousy so soul-rending and intense that even now, years after he’s left otogakure, he still experiences phantom jealousy when he thinks back on his time there.
as an adult, kimimaro detests jealousy, because it is the weakest and most useless of all emotions. it’s a signal of insecurity and mental fragility, and he cannot stand it. but try as he might to prove otherwise, he’s still ( mostly ) human, and he does experience it more often than he’d like in his personal relationships. he’s aware that he is . . . considered emotionally and socially lacking; he’s dumb, but he’s not stupid. he knows people don’t like him, that he skeeves people out, that he doesn’t have the “proper” responses that normal people look for, and that he wouldn’t know what normal was supposed to act like if it hit him in the face.
sometimes he gets a bit jealous at the ease others have at being social, and other times he gets jealous of the significant others of those he loves/cares for. he’s jealous that no matter how he might feel for someone that he will never be able to express himself that easily, or to love them in a way they understand, or be loved in a way that he can understand.
overall he hates jealousy, because it is always a precursor to the worst feeling of all: loneliness.
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amlao · 9 months
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Day 292 of Being Single for the First Second Time in My Adult Life
I’ve compared every connection for so long.
With Logan, our early interactions felt sexy and dangerous. I was so drawn in, but there was arguing, there were red flags, and I was dodging feeling threatened and coerced. Everything felt so intense and memorable because my senses were heightened to scope out the darkness hidden between waves of his affection.
I met him in an era where I had so much pent-up aggression. I wanted to wage a war, and I waged one on everything plaguing our relationship.
I remember the sinking feeling of knowing he wasn’t over Alice, and instead of recognizing it as the red flag it was, it energized me to make me want to prove my love and devotion to him.
I was IN LOVE and I wanted to FIGHT and I wanted to MAKE EVERYTHING BETTER even if it KILLED ME.
But there is no comparison here.
It’s as passionate as it is effortless, and it is both objectively easier and objectively more passionate.
There’s no threat, there’s no power struggle. There are no demands for me to prove I want to be with him. There doesn’t have to be. He reads between the lines of me being guarded and I can tell that he knows I adore him.
Shawn says things to me, and he doesn’t even know me well enough yet to understand how insanely perfect they are.
He’s confident, he’s self-assured, he’s transparent and peaceful and patient.
He knows he’s attractive and desirable, but makes it abundantly clear that what he feels for me is unrivaled. What a breath of fresh air from someone with severe body image issues whose need for external validation is an endless sucking chest wound.
He is SO quick and witty without a inkling of condensation.
The chemistry is palpable without a semblance of toxicity.
Having someone who is such a good communicator instantly puts me in a mode to strive to be better. Playing mind games isn’t an option when someone is so clear and deliberate about their wants, needs, and intentions.
Every moment with him makes me look back at previous relationships with men and feel appalled that I ever entertained anything less.
It almost feels silly to me that I placed so much overwhelming significance on someone, just because they kind of got me and we had decent chemistry when the relationship wasn’t explosively toxic. Like…that was the bar for four years of longing?
The last time I looked back at the chat, I saw my younger self try to communicate with Logan that I didn’t like jokes about him not loving me as much as I love him, and he responded with, ‘I guess I just shouldn’t joke with you at all. You’ve made me feel like a horrible person.’ And like, LOL what a classic idiot man move. If a guy ever attempted to come at me with that energy with me now, I’d tell him to take a fucking hike.
“You will find a love that dwarfs this love and you will be so happy that you chose Later You,”
I’ve been telling myself this for so long, but I finally believe it now.
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promiseiwillwrite · 10 months
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Oh. Oh no. I think I broke it.
So... I think I have ceased to believe in love in some very fundamental way.
And I am going to split hairs here, of course, because Love is a thing I Know exists as a force in the world because its effects in my own life are observable to me and others.
But there is a point for me in many of my relationships where I think I stop believing in the love other people supposedly have for me.
::squints::
Which of course sounds like complete balderdash.
Until you turn it and look at it from the side.
By that, I mean looking at it from the perspective of knowing my ideas about relationships were Completely Fucked for most of my life... and the WAY love is often tied up and conflated with those.
Here is the crack where the light is getting in.
Most of my life, I have been trying to change myself, and be what others wanted, out of some idea that this will make them want to be with and around me. *this was not true, and never worked, despite my vast and impenetrable determination that it should.
So my experiences of "love" were these intense, desperate feelings of attachment and fear, where I constantly needed to prove myself worthy, and my very worth as a human depended upon my success or failure. Until the last five years, you have to throw in the idea that my sexual value determined my value as well.
Now I've done enough therapy and enough work on my most patriarchal and garbage thoughts. I've done a shit ton of deprogramming.... and I have No Goddamn Idea what Love is now.
Like, I am not sure what I felt for others, at any point, was actually love. There has definitely been Lust, and Desire.
There have also been a lot of Strong, Protective feelings... and I think maybe that is the closest thing I can conjure. I think Love has got to be in there somewhere.
But as for me, believing other people's experiences of love for me?
You might as well ask me to believe in Santa Claus. Something in me is like "no."
But I have seen the top of that patent leather shoe before.
And I Know that it would mean accepting that I am Worth the Effort to love and protect to other people... And in theory they would express that.
And THIS is where it falls apart for me. Because I think I was expecting more. More of people's time and attention. More affection, more of the Good Stuff. But instead, where these things should be, there is only space. My Evenings are empty. I don't have a Polycule or a Tribe or a Family. AND the thought of going out and trying to find or make these is Exhausting.
And I know I have Chosen myself into this corner. I know I came out into this lonely Swamp on purpose, because I needed Space to lay out every broken thing in my psyche and bury it in soft peat for a few years.
So what SHOULD I expect? from real adult humans with jobs and lives of their own? What is Reasonable?
And if I want something Else, Something More? should I just tell myself I've been living without it for years and what I want doesn't matter? That I need to work on Not wanting that? Or should I legitimately see that love means something different than I thought, and that it was never meant to fill the Holes in my heart and my Self and my Life...
That I was meant to do that for myself??
And so that begs the question: HOW THE FUCK does one Do that?
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casspurrjoybell-18 · 1 year
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Mutual Desire - Chapter 93
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*Warning - Adult Content*  
The best solution for Damien Clarke was to just get it over with and then go straight to bed.
It was late and Alexander Nabokov's little visit had lasted long enough for his liking.
"I'm exhausted. I'm going to bed," Damien indicated. 
"Good night, Alexander."
Damien was getting ready to turn his back to Nabokov when the man's voice called out to him again.
He was clearly not out of the woods yet and Nabokov was acting exactly as expected of him.
The man wasn't going to let go that easily.
There was a good chance that Damien could be spending the night in his kitchen if he didn't start talking and he knew it.
"Though you admitted your feelings to me, you seem to want to keep hiding what you truly want, Damien," Nabokov observed.
The Russian man stopped his walk a few meters from Damien who was relieved that Nabokov wasn't glued to him as he had been since his arrival.
"Do you remember what I once told you?" Nabokov recalled, analyzing Damien with an intense gaze. 
"That you were like a volcano. Well, one day all these emotions that you're denying right now will explode just like a volcano and I hope I'll be there when that happens because it will be truly beautiful to watch."
The words divulged by Nabokov hit Damien head-on, who felt a wave of sudden anger seize him.
His face tightened and the cold in his eyes flared up. He didn't need to hear that.
He didn't want to hear that.
"You're right," Damien conceded dryly. 
"I'm disgusted with myself to admit it but it's true, you're right. I gave in for a moment to this attraction I felt for you and lost Craig along the way. I lost the man with who I thought I would be spending the rest of my life with because I acted on these urges and because I was no longer able to disregard all these new emotions that you were making me feel. That you still make me feel and that I deprive myself of exploring because I'm afraid. Is that what you wanted to hear?"
As usual, Nabokov didn't let Damien's coldness get to him. His face maintained its impassiveness but his eyes still remained so intense and indecipherable.
"At least I hope that in your eyes, it's worth something. I lost a man who was everything to me because of these feelings that you absolutely want to see me explore. I really hope that has some fucking meaning to you," Damien spat, his tone sour and slightly high.
Nabokov totally reduced the space between him and Damien, as his hand landed gently on Damien's cheek.
"It does. It means a lot to me. More than you can imagine, Damien," Nabokov asserted, not taking his eyes off Damien.
The two men stared at each other with unruffled concentration as the coldness in Damien's expression quickly evaporated.
"You mean a lot to me," Nabokov whispered, brushing his lips briefly on Damien's.
Again, Nabokov asserted that Damien was important to him and again, Damien remained undecided as to whether or not Nabokov should be given the benefit of the doubt.
Damien was undeniably convinced of the billionaire's sincerity but was it safe for him to believe the words of a man he barely knew and moreover who had never been in a relationship with a man?
He remembered his sister's advice about taking risks and that life itself is a risk that you take.
This recent memory awakened another who was much less recent where he had heard or read somewhere that not taking risks was a risk itself.
"I'm not asking you to take my word for it, so give me a chance to prove it to you with my actions," Nabokov offered as if reading Damien's mind.
Nabokov pressed his lips to Damien's and just two seconds later the two men's mouths finally made one.
The kiss started slowly but the burning passion was omnipresent. 
Damien's tears crossed his eyes to land on his cheeks.
The saltwater wet Nabokov's cheeks also who put an end to the feverish kiss to Damien's regret.
Nabokov observed Damien with a worried and affectionate gaze as he wiped away with his fingers the water that had taken possession of Damien's cheeks.
"Don't hurt me, Alexander. Please don't hurt me," Damien begged in a choked voice, his lips glued to Alexander's.
"Never."
Simultaneously, Damien and Nabokov glued their mouths together, resuming the kiss voraciously.
Their tongues didn't take long before starting an embrace between them.
Nabokov used his hand to further deepen the kiss and Damien did the same, sliding a hand on the man's cheek.
The two men's breath no longer seemed to matter to them since they continued to kiss tirelessly despite their blatant lack of air.
As if their life depended on this kiss which continued and which didn't seem to have an end to it.
Nabokov finally broke the kiss but his lips remained locked on Damien's as Damien used this small break to catch his breath.
"Empty your heart like you just did. Tell me what made you stop me from leaving," Nabokov demanded.
Damien's eyes were on Nabokov's lips but his contemplation was short-lived, as Nabokov resumed the kiss where he had left it.
Damien placed his right arm around Nabokov's neck.
His hand immediately rested behind the Russian's head and Damien gently stroked Nabokov's dirt blond hair as the kiss continued to evolve with increasing intensity.
Nabokov removed his hand from Damien's cheek to land it on Damien's lower body, more precisely on Damien's manhood which was more alive than ever.
Nabokov gently inserted his hand inside the yellow towel that hid what the billionaire coveted so much.
His hand quickly spotted Damien's upward, iron-hard member and then commenced a delicious massage as Damien's breathing began to become irregular.
The Russian man broke the kiss again to venture his lips on Damien's neck where he placed kisses which made Damien feel like he was going mad.
"Unless you want your body to speak for you, Damien," Nabokov whispered on Damien's neck.
Alexander Nabokov continued his incessant kisses on Damien Clark's neck who was trying as best he could to control his breathing, while Nabokov's hands continued to masturbate him with a slowness that would be the cause of his madness.
Damien's shaft seemed to want more and more of Nabokov's touch and Damien didn't know where to put himself.
"Tell me everything, Damien," Nabokov urged. 
"Absolutely everything. Don't hide what you feel anymore. Don't hide from me anymore."
Damien felt that his manhood was going to explode with the back-and-forth movements that Nabokov was doing.
Though he loved more than anything the touch of Nabokov's lips on his sensitive and erogenous neck, Damien was dying to find these same lips back on his.
He had an inexplicable urge to kiss Nabokov as if the man was going to slip away at any moment.
But now, he had another even more pressing desire.
So urgent that Damien felt that if he didn't satisfy the urge at any moment now, he was going to suffocate and meet death shortly.
However, Damien was very well aware of what he had to do or rather say in order to satisfy this desire.
The only problem was the courage that Damien questioned whether or not he had to go all the way through it and do the one thing he wanted more than anything since his first encounter with Nabokov.
"Alexander."
Damien wasn't going to let his moans and his broken voice spoil the words he had been suffocating for far too long.
He was more than determined to finally say aloud the words that had been wanting to come out for ages.
"Please."
Interpellated by Damien's voice, Nabokov gradually stopped his kisses on his lover's neck and now faced him.
The two men gazed at each other with all the lust and envy in their eyes.
The tension suffocated the air and Nabokov's feverish gaze devoured Damien who also eyed at him with a stirring, carnal glow but also with sadness.
His tears might have stopped but they had left their mark in Damien's eyes who was looking at Nabokov without blinking and with all the sincerity and vulnerability his irises could show.
"Make love to me, Alexander," Damien whispered.
Amazingly, Damien didn't look away despite the words that had just come out and he kept his eyes on Nabokov who was staring at him just as much.
Damien was in no way embarrassed by his request and he was as confident as he had never been in his life.
Confident of the words that had just come out of his own mouth and that for nothing in the world he would take them back even if threatened with a gun to his temple.
As for Nabokov, he was unable to hide his astonishment at Damien's honesty even though he was the one who had demanded it.
He recovered quickly and all trace of shock vanished.
There were only sexual urges in his eyes and Damien could see that the man was holding back from leaping on him.
"Is that what you want or what your heart wants?"
Damien realized that Nabokov was using his own words against him and for once he wasn't upset.
He knew that he hadn't been honest with Nabokov and that he had tried to convince him that all the emotions he felt towards him were involuntary and that it was something over which he had no control.
That it was something he wanted unwittingly and without his consent.
Now Damien wanted to be completely truthful with Nabokov but also with himself.
Yes, that was what his heart wanted but it was also what he wanted from the very first time his eyes met Nabokov's grey gaze.
"That's what we both want," Damien said in a whisper.
Nabokov released Damien's cheek to grab strands of Damien's hair that threatened to reach his face and placed them behind his pierced ear.
"That's what I terribly want," Damien said, his throat hurting. 
"More than anything."
"Not as much as me, Damien."
On these words, Nabokov abruptly pressed his lips on Damien's mouth.
The two men's tongues met again and picked up with the same intensity they had just left off.
They started to move, Damien leading the way by walking backward out of the kitchen, not letting go of one bit of each other's lips.
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Apparently nephew #1 (brother #1’s kid) declaring that I’m his favorite aunt has gone to my head because I was suddenly ready to cut a bitch when the paternal aunt of brand new nephew #2 (so obv he’s my sister’s bb) used “#CoolAunt” in a post
I’m too (secretly) competitive for my own good, my dudes 😑
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rcksmith · 3 years
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Secret — Five Hargreeves
Requests: “For Five Hargreeves — can I get 97, 91 28 and 35 for a heavy smut? And 40 from fluff? If it isn’t too much trouble!”
“If it’s not too much trouble could I do 40,53 & 91 from the smut prompts for Five ty honey 💕”
Smut prompts:
28. “Such a needy little thing, aren’t you?”
35. “Try to keep quiet. We don’t want to get caught.”
40. “I guess I’ll just get off all by myself.”
53. “Well, since you want to cum so badly, why don’t we see how many times I can make you cum right now.
91. “guess i'll just have to cum in you then’
97. “You know, you always look so much better when I mark you up.”
Fluff prompts:
40. “Come cuddle.”
A/N: We not tolerate any pedophilia here !!
I write about Five with their 20s. I write the same about the characters of Harry Potter.
I hope you guys like💖I decided to compile these two requests, since they were the same central plot. I added all the elements that were asked for individually, and made sure that all ideas were respected and written down. Good reading.
Guys, I really understand who doesn’t feel comfortable reading or writing Five’s smut. But I always say that I only write with him (any genre: romance, fluff or angst) with the notion that Five is 20 years old here. All of my fanfics mention swearing or sex, even if it is a memory or something shallow, but as I am writing with Five as an adult, it is consistent that the fic has aspects of an adult life.//
English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake.
Requests are open. Love you ❤️
Couple: Five Hargreeves / Fem! Reader.
Warnings: explicit heavy smut, swearing, fluff too.
— — — — —
It was one of those warm nights, which carry a searing and heaving sensation in the back, which had a malicious tone in the air, which stirs your body to choose bad decisions, making your hands itch and your heart racing for something...intense. It was one of those hours that passed midnight, that breath was heavy with the expectation of something extraordinary, that skin prickled just with the images in mind.
And you were in that state. Heart pounding heavily, yearning for something, caustic breathing, the environment with an energy of lust. Well, at least you was like that.
Five did not share your line of reasoning, or, if he were not oblivious to the malicious moonlight that rose in the sky, he was pretending very well. Sipping a margarita at the bar in the Hargreeves mansion, with calculations in front of him taking all his attention. Normally, you loved that he focused on his own things. But now... you were seething with something that only Five could placate.
It was a few months ago that you went from just being friends with his siblings to someone he fucked hard at night. The sexual energy between the two of you was very strong, and it was very easy to make bad decisions when the bad decision in question was so fucking hot.
Five Hargreeves did things to you. You wouldn't know how to explain it with clear phrases, but his gaze made you shiver, his body made a very specific part in the middle of your legs vibrate, and his voice and that self-centered smile... God!
It was no accident that you surrendered. You would have surrendered to that battle a million times.
“Five.” You sighed softly, taking a sip from your own drink. “Can't you do this tomorrow?”
“No. I am close to solving this.”
You controlled yourself not to roll your eyes. You were never the most needy type, especially with people as reserved as Five, but, damn it, you were on fire. It was logical that you could go out and choose someone to placate that, but that would trigger many things between Five and you. He hated that you were with someone else, even though he himself didn't assuming out to you.
It are a delicate situation, you were friends with all the Hargreeves siblings, and it would be a racket if they knew that their brother was fucking one of theys best friends.
The warm evening breeze came in through the window and collided with the chill of the drink running down your throat, awakening even more lustful anxieties.
“Five..." You purred, got up from the armchair on the counter, still behind Five and slid your hands over his shoulders "Maybe...you might want to finish this later.” You whispered at the foot of his ear.
Even without seeing him, you could feel that he was letting go of one of his arrogant and malicious smiles. Five rotated the seat to be face to face with you, his legs spread wider to accommodate you between them.
“And what are you going to do to distract me?” That same defiant, boastful voice.
But the look he gave you made a shock of desire reverberate through your body. Five wanted to play? Okay, you were going to play a game whit him.
“Why did you…” you leaned forward gently, resting one hand on his hot thigh, leaving your cleavage exposed “don't try guess?”
You realized that he had swallowed hard, even though his posture had remained unwavering. Five looked down at you cleavage, waist, and slightly elevated butt. You approached him a few more inches, your mouth a breath away, the heat of the bodies being shared without even touching.
Five could drive you crazy and screaming, but you knew it could also drive him insanity.
When you leaned over a little more and your mouths were so close to meet, you changed the direction and reached out with your free hand to pick up Five's margarita behind him. You straightened up and away, with a mischievous smile on your lips that revealed that everything had gone as planned.
Five semi closed his eyes at you, a fiery glow going through his eyes.
“Do you want to play with me?”His voice was low, dangerous “You know what happens to you when you challenge me.”
It was a warning, clear and resonant. You were a good girl for Five because you knew the strength that he could fuck you. Fuck, he could break you if he want. But now you were sexually frustrated, aroused, with a racing heart and wheezing from the expectation of something.
A night of bad decisions.
“You don't want to get out of your equations.” You turned your voice into something innocent, soft, provocative, and the strong breath that Five drew was a small victory for you "I guess I'll just get off all by myself."
Your smile was malicious, causticante, but as soon as Five got up from that chair, the perfect posture, much taller than you, and was slowly towards you, like a predator with its prey, you knew you were screwed.
“Do you want to come this much?” His fingers passed gently over your warm neck, and you let out a breath with that stupid touch.
Five moved closer, your chest glued to his, the hot, citrusy breath of alcohol hitting your nose. Something wetted you panties, making you bite the inside of your cheeks to keep from sighing any louder.
“Would you use your little toy thinking about the times that I fucked you so hard that you couldn't walk the next day?”
That was too much for your already sensitive system. Those words went directly to the thread that connected your heart and its pulsating nucleus, causing a burning note to reverberate.
“Five...”the sigh came out, while the memories of Five using your vibrator to push you to the limit, while him fucking you brutally, prowled like a wild beast in your mind.
Five slid the fingers from your neck to your cleavage, brushing the tips of her fingers across the flesh of your breasts. Five stuffed his forefinger into your cleavage and pulled you to him.
You moaned softly, in a purr.
“Such a needy little thing, aren't you?" The whispered floated in your ear, while you put down the margarita at the bar and held your hands in his arms.
You bit your bottom lip, your panties soaked, your heart beating fast in your chest, the atmosphere more wild and fiery.
“You want this?” Five slowly lowered a strap from your blouse, each second speeding up your heart even more.
“Yes...” You sighed “I really want to, please.”
Then Five's touch got rougher and he held your chin firmly, lifting you face to look him in the eye.
“Beg.” It was an order, but your body was sending millions of feelings to you that you were lost for a second "beg!”
“P-please.” You looked at him pleadingly “Fuck me so badly, please.”
His grip got stronger.
“Once again.” Now the other hand slid roughly over your body, squeezing your waist, thigh, ass, anything that Five could mark as his property.
“Please, I'm begging you to eat me.” You really were, your body needed more, and there was no denying it.
So in the blink of an eye, the blue flash swallowed you both up and took you to his room. You were dizzy for a second, you were not used to his tricks. But Five used it as a bonus and stuck his lips to yours, stunning you with the strong taste of alcohol, desire and lust.
You moaned softly, your hands working to free him from his clothes, your lips corresponding to the battle. You managed to strip off his shirt layers and fade his pants, but Five didn't have the same patience as you. He didn't wait to undress you, he tore the thin fabric and opened your bra hungry, in a hurry, as if you were his last meal.
In a second his hot mouth was on your breast, sucking and nibbling at the needy skin aggressively, his fierce hands pulling you out of the other pieces of clothing. Five was not delicate, loving and caring, he conquered, took, owned, his goal was to devour you until his savagery was sated.
“Fi-Five!” You moaned loudly, your naked body now shaking with desire, your heart exploding in your chest.
You would have said something more if Five hadn't pushed you to the bed and made you fall into it. He pulled your legs apart, exposing you completely to him. His eyes burned with a dangerous and brutal fire, and Five slapped down the inside of your thigh. You screamed, arching your back, your hands closing on the sheet.
“Well, since you want to cum so badly…” Five climbed on top of you, his mouth proving the point where he had hit you “why don’t we see how many times I can make you cum right now.”
Suddenly, in the blink of an eye, his mouth was right in the middle of your pulsating core. Eating, sucking, tasting everything you willingly offered to him so much. You moaned, or screamed, your hands tightly squeezing the sheet, digging your nails into the fabric.
Five ate you at an undisturbed pace, as if you were the last meal in the desert, clasping his hands on your waist to keep you immobile, sinking his mouth deeper into you. His tongue opened its yours walls, circled her clitoris and sucked there, leaving a hot trail of spittle. You moaned loudly, your waist trying to fight the firm grip of his hands to roll in him mouth. You felt a thread about to burst inside you and your heart started to race in your chest.
“F-Five!” You screamed when he sucked your clitoris, and he could feel you pulsing in his mouth, signaling that you were close.
“Come for me, little slut.”
The vibration of his voice in your sensitive flesh was the trigger you needed, you came intensely, your legs wobbly, your breathing heavy, but Five didn't wait for you to finish coming before climbing on top of you, lowering his pants and underwear enough and brutally get inside you in a fraction of a second.
You groaned loudly, your hands clasping his bare shoulders, your walls hypersensitive to the end of the orgasm that was still breaking free. It was too much for you, your eyes stung with tears, your heart was racing a marathon in your chest, and your whole body was shaking.
Five doesn't give you a second to get used to it, or to get down from the sensation of your orgasms, he set a rough, hard, badly rhythm, entering inside you in penetrations that pushed your body upwards. You spread your legs wider and wrapped them around Five's waist, your chest glued to his chest, skin-to-skin contact being the extra to drive you crazy.
It was too much for you to take, too much for your hypersensitive body. Five silenced your broken moans with toxic kisses.
“Try to keep quiet. We don’t want to get caught.” His voice was hoarse, breathy, broken, Five drives his dick so deep inside you as possible with every word.
“I...I can't...”You whimpered in his mouth, clasping your hands in Five's hot flesh, sobbing at the strength he put in you, you needed more.
“So let's take care of it.”
Five released an aggressive and rough hickey on your neck, putting an arm around your waist, sticking every inch of their bodies together, and his free hand covered your mouth, drowning out yours screams. You thought it was going to placate his hard rhythm, but Five started pulling your waist down, against his dick, and sinking deeper inside you.
“You wanted me to fuck you, didn't you?” Five snarled, looking into yours watery eyes "Now take it, fuck!."
His dirty words only led you further towards the second abyss. Five fucked you so hard that you couldn't answer, let alone whit the heavy hand on your mouth. Yours hands sank into the skin on his back, yours legs pulling him hips towards you, desperate to placate what was about to burst.
Five could feel yours tight walls throbbing on his dick, signaling that you were going to come any second. He groaned loudly, clenching his teeth on the skin of your neck so as not to make a noise, thrusting his dick as deep as possible into you. He replaced the hand in your mouth with his own lips, swallowing yours moans and trying to keep the sounds of you both low.
“I ... I'm going to...” You cried with pleasure, pain, desire, his rhythm hurt but it gave you so much hunger and pleasure that you could feel the liquid of your arousal soaking his dick.
Five looked at you in a way full of lust and with a very desire to break you. Oh he wanted to destroy you.
He came out of you, making you let out a loud moan of frustration and tears streaming from yours eyes. You whimpered loudly, and Five switched positions and pulled you hard into his lap, giving you no time to straighten up before he pushed his dick into you and aggressively stuck both hands to your waist.
You bit your lip hard to keep from screaming, trembling hands resting on his chest as Five pulled you up and down brutally, thrusting his dick in as deep as possible in you. He did not contain an aggressive groan at the sight of yours breasts jumping on his face, body sweaty and marked by fingers and hickeys, the inside of yours thighs already red by the force that Five shocked the body in you.
“Pl ... please!”
You begged, your face smeared with mascara and tears, your lips red from raw kisses, your hair sweaty. You looked like a goddess and Five wanted even more to destroy you.
“Do you want to come?” His voice was breathless, hoarse, fierce.
You nodded frantically, looking at Five with beg, begging him to let you come. It seemed to have an overwhelming effect on him. Five slapped your ass down, raising his hand to your back and pulling you forward, making your chest lie on his while the rhythm reached new places.
You bit his shoulder to keep from screaming, tears streaming down your face.
“If you come in this position, I will not control myself.” He snarled at you.
“I do not mind!” You begged, moving your waist to match his rhythm.
“Guess i'll just have to cum in you then” Then Five kissed you, hard, bad, dropped a hand to your clitoris and applied the trigger you needed to collapse.
You sank your mouth into the skin of his neck to muffle your scream, and soon a hot, thick liquid was filling you to the brim, taking up every inch inside you. You whimpered loudly against Five, hims hips doing the final thrusts to make sure the cum was filling you, his warm hands loosening the aggressive grip.
You both breathed loudly, your legs were shaking, your hair was stuck to your face and it took you two minutes to lift your face and look at Five. He gave you an arrogant smile of ‘I said I was going to break you and I broke’ and you laughed softly.
“I don't think I can get up.” You laughed, and Five removed a lock of hair from your face. “Do you think they heard us?”
“They certainly heard you.” He scoffed.
“Coming from your room.” You snapped and Five laughed, hims chest still heaving and heaving, covered in a mist of sweat.
“Fuck them.” Five said, gently pulling your hips up, pulling the dick out of you, making you sigh a broken moan. “You are so sensitive!” He said between his teeth, as if he had never been satisfied with you.
You laughed, and shook your head, exposing your neck full of purple tick marks.
“You know…” Five took his index finger to the marks, delicately skirting them “you always look so much better when I mark you up.”
You pushed his shoulder slightly, rolling your eyes.
“Can we take a shower together?” Five nodded at you question. “ and…”
“And?”
“You know ...” yours cheeks became more flushed "Come cuddle."
Five laughed, his eyes tame now, an open smile and satisfied energy.
“We can.” he smiled and you gave him a passionate kiss on the lips.
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sword-brainrot · 2 years
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hi! may i request friendship headcanons with kenshin and taikogane? after all, kenshin is "blood" related to mitsu, and he and taikogane both were in the same family so i wonder how they would interact?
Actually it's Taikogane that is suppose to be "blood" related to Shokudaikiri! It's rather confusing since they are just swords in the end. But Kenshin's brother is Azuki!
I never really thought of their friendship before but after this ask, my brain was filled with a bunch of fun thoughts!
Friendship with Kenshin Kagemitsu and Taikogane Sadamune
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♡ Kenshin is someone who often stays away from the rest of the tantous compared to everyone else. He has such a big need to grow up as fast as he can that in turn he ends up ignoring the people who wish to spend time with him the most.
♡ Out of all the tantous, he probably spends time with Hakata the most since he thinks learning from him will help him seem more adult and independent.
♡ Taikogane, on the other hand, is very close to all the tantous!
♡ He is someone who will never leave anyone behind and try to include everyone in on the fun.
♡ So he quickly notices Kenshin looking at the group with longing to join them but always refusing. At first Taikogane would not push him to come hang out with the group but would offer every time they had plans.
♡ The answer always remained the same and Taikogane looked as his fellow tantou went off like it was his duty to refuse any fun to come his face and only work on improving himself, even though his heart wished for the other result.
♡ He knew that Kenshin would never lean into what his heart truly desired... So he came up with a plan.
♡ Teaming up with his brother, Shokudaikiri Mitsutada, and Kenshin's brother, Azuki Nagamitsu, he decided that the four of them were required to make a big cake for Saniwa's birthday.
♡ No one needed to know that Saniwa's birthday was months away...
♡ The kitchen ended up in a mess after they were done. Not because of anything Shokudaikiri or Azuki did... Hell, not even Kenshin. It was all about Taikogane was messing up and sometimes even causing mischief within the team.
♡ Kenshin trying very hard to get everything perfect to impress his brother and saniwa and- oh Taikogane just tripped and now there is sugar all over his perfect cut heart-
♡ Taikogane making a mess everywhere he goes and getting flour on his team, proving that you could work hard but also have fun.
♡ Kenshin always so stressed to do everything perfectly, found himself in a space where that was not something capable to do. Perhaps... Lashing out at Taikogane a little only for him to put a little frosting on Kenshin's nose.
♡ Even if the kitchen atmosphere was intense at times between the two, Kenshin couldn't actually find himself being angry at Taikogane. Rather than himself. Even getting so frustrated at times, they could see tears bubbling in the sides of his eyes as he tried to hide it.
♡ It was at those times, Taikogane would back off and let Azuki comfort his brother since he would know how to best talk him down from the high emotions he did not wish for others to see.
♡ Taikogane would 100% apologize after. He wanted Kenshin to laugh and have fun! Not get so mad and disappointed in himself that he cries.
♡ Taikogane doesn't leave him alone after the first meeting and actually joins him with anything that Kenshin is doing for the day. Be it training, reading, or learning math. Taikogane not the biggest fan of math but that gives him an excuse to ask a lot of questions and make Kenshin feel proud of himself for knowing the answer.
♡ Overtime, the two learn how to communicate better and actually enjoy their time.
♡ Kenshin learns how to be easier on himself and enjoy the time he has now. Realizing it is okay to have fun and he doesn't have to grow up/get strong right away.
♡ Taikogane learns new skills from Kenshin and learns the right balance of being friendly and going over the line where he is being overbearing.
♡ It's a lot of learning from the two but they both learn overtime to develop a strong bond. Often times talking about their brothers to each other and laughing.
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Sometimes you just have a really intense week and can’t stop thinking about how much trauma Lan Sizhui experienced by the time he was 5 and how being the Very Best Boy isn’t always healthy and then you need to write Lan Wangji the child psychologist and his incredibly anxious foster-son, y’know?
---
Bunny is on time-out again.
"You have to behave,” A-Yuan says in the voice of the potato-head, packing accessories into its body and shoving it into the bed of a soft plastic truck. “You get in the car now.” The Barbie van is already full, with a dinosaur and a fingerpuppet and one of the new larger Lego figures, and all their carefully packed luggage. A-Yuan does that. Over and over again, for each of his toys, he methodically packs and unpacks luggage. It’s his most common form of play, but not the most enjoyable.
A-Yuan’s breathing is rapid and shallow, so much so that he takes little gasps when he talks to himself. Routinely, predictably, he’s calmer when he turns away from the dollhouse. He’s most collected when selecting items to put into luggage, deciding on pieces of felt and Barbie shoes, but even with the vehicles he can lose himself enjoying the movement and progress of the cars. But underneath it all, there’s a jerkiness to his movements and a certain disconnected quality in his speech and body language that tells Lan Wangji that he’s pretty distressed.
It’s a step forward that Bunny is out at all, Lan Wangji knows. A behaviour therapist at A-Yuan’s last preschool made it a point to extinguish comfort-seeking behaviour towards the toy, which was becoming both careworn and grubby. A-Yuan’s had it at least since he was fourteen months old; it was with him when he came into care. Maybe his birth mother gave it to him. A-Yuan has obediently derogated the toy; if it’s left lying out, he can usually be trusted to throw it into a corner to prove what a big, grown-up boy he is.
Lan Wangji has very carefully gauged his son’s limits of tolerance for some things. When the car ride begins, he waves slightly and says, “Have a nice trip,” which makes A-Yuan glance back at him nervously, but it’s just mild enough, just unemotional enough, just tolerable enough, that it doesn’t provoke too much emotion. A-Yuan can keep pushing his vehicles around, and feel safe enough to drive one into Lan Wangji’s foot. He doesn’t persevere at that point, though; the trip has culminated and he gets up and walks to where he can see down the hallway to the front door, then wanders over to the slide.
A hundred million years ago, Lan Wangji thought he’d be a genetics researcher, like his uncle. Then he thought he’d be a neuroscientist, like his undergraduate thesis advisor. Then he thought he’d be a psychologist like his brother, who focuses entirely on assessment and the development of psychometric tools. For a little bit in grad school, he thought he’d counsel adults, like Wei Wuxian, until a classmate told Wei Wuxian that Dialectical Behavioural Therapy was “objectively badass” and he developed a fixation Lan Wangji could not follow. In retrospect his career path is absolutely obvious, resonating clearly through every bone of him, but it took him a very long time to realize he ought to work with children. It’s a little shocking that he, who was so bad at being a child, feels so prepared to be a father.
He smiles when A-Yuan looks at him anxiously from the slide, the moment of uncertainty as he lets go and begins sliding down triggering the need for reassurance. Lan Wangji is always waiting for that glance, waiting to return it. At A-Yuan’s last placement he’d been assessed as having an avoidant/dismissing attachment style, and despite its uncharitable and parent-shaming nature Lan Wangji can’t help but agree with what his husband had muttered over that one: “Were the parents even trying?”
The most vital task, and the hardest, is being present in the moment with a child. Not worrying about the future, not concerned with the past, not preoccupied with an external standard. He’s surprisingly bad at performing objective assessments with children, because he can see how unfair they all are. His greatest facility is something he built for himself, brick by painstaking brick: the willingness to sit with discomfort, and have faith that the chaos will not remain chaos. All his years of meditation have cultivated a still eye to see the world from, and the faith that patience and compassion will see him through.
Still smiling, still watching A-Yuan, Lan Wangji moves closer to the dollhouse. He carefully stars arranging its contents, righting knocked-over furniture and returning blankets to little wooden beds. He takes out a shark figurine, a couple of doll clothes, then puts Bunny on the floor near his shin. When A-Yuan comes close, magnetically drawn away from the slide, Lan Wangji reaches behind himself for the tea set they were using earlier, arranging cups and plates in front of him as though they’re going to have another tea party. He leaves the placement of the cups ambiguous; it’s not like Bunny is specifically invited, but there is a suggestive proximity, the way the other cup is in proximity to the shark. A-Yuan takes the teapot, and Lan Wangji solemnly holds his cup out while A-Yuan pours. For the sake of the ritual he accepts milk and refuses sugar and mimes stirring his invisible ingredients before taking a sip.
When A-Yuan is done drinking, Lan Wangji turns to Bunny, lifting a cup, and asks, “Would you like some tea?” A-Yuan noticed the moment that Lan Wangji’s hand moves, but as he addresses the rabbit A-Yuan seems to lose interest, which is to say, he slightly dissociates; blink and you missed it, but his eyes go a little glassy, he looks away, and then he acts on the adrenaline and gets up and wanders away.
The current theory about Bunny is like the theory of gravity, which is to say, it’s definitely pretty certain but it never hurts to be humble when it comes to knowledge. It’s honestly a little more speculative and psychodynamic than Lan Wangji is truly comfortable with, and A-Yuan’s case manager, possibly a little defensive over the last preschool placement, absolutely refuses to consider the possibility. But it still feels as essential and true as which way is up that Bunny performs the vital task of holding all the parts of A-Yuan that he blames for making the adults he cares about disappear. Bunny holds both the neediness and the hope for comfort that were so painful, his son shut them down in order to survive. Bunny was how A-Yuan mediated that desire, the source of his comfort, until he was three and a half, and the behaviour therapist.
A-Yuan knew his foster parents didn’t like him being disorganized and distressed and clingy, that they’d rather he behaved more like a six-year-old than four. Which he could, sometimes, because he had a ferocious intelligence which put him cognitively ahead of his emotional development. But he, well... adapted a little too quickly, one might say. Learned his lesson a little too well. Now they’re trying to reignite the behaviours that were extinguished.
Lan Wangji takes a risk, while A-Yuan is pulling picture books off the lower shelf, and lifts Bunny to his shoulder like a colicky infant. He doesn’t do anything else, aside from stroking the rabbit’s fur. He leaves it in place, with a little guiding help from his hand, when A-Yuan brings a Franklin book over and climbs into his lap, demanding to be read to. With interest he notes, halfway through the story, that Lan Wangji holding and petting Bunny doesn’t distress A-Yuan; as the story arc gets as exciting as Franklin books ever do (which is not, to be clear, a criticism) A-Yuan turns in his arms long enough to distractedly reach up and pet Bunny too, before turning back and trying to grab the book for himself.
Wondering how far he can push this, he keeps Bunny in place on his shoulder when they leave the room to check the clock, and A-Yuan goes to the living-room window to watch the street for Wei Wuxian. He looks curiously when Lan Wangji leans down to dig the remote out between the couch cushions, but easily redirects when Lan Wangji turns on the TV and goes to prepare dinner. Having the show on limits his anxious glances out the window to three or four a minute only, instead of sustained attention followed by a meltdown if he had to wait more than five minutes.
Lan Wangji thinks it would be easier to keep Bunny in place, on his shoulder like a dishtowel, if he had weighted plastic beads in his extremities, or if he was velcroed. He’s wary of changing anything about such a strong comfort object, though, so he just learns to move and stand differently to keep the rabbit from constantly falling off.
A-Yuan greets Wei Wuxian with the kind of terrified delight that looks like general indifference if you don’t know better; he runs over, stands uncertainly within arm’s reach of Wei Wuxian’s legs, and then dodges away before Wei Wuxian can reach down to him. Lan Wangji helpfully muted the show when he heard the door open--it gives A-Yuan the space to sit with his back to the room and self-regulate while the adults say hello.
“New friend?” his husband asks finally, an eyebrow raised.
“Modelling it as appropriate,” Lan Wangji says. “I thought perhaps he could tolerate us demonstrating that it is not discouraged.”
“Nice rabbit, Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian says seamlessly, in a voice meant to be heard from the couch. “I like it. Makes me wish I had a rabbit.”
“They are very good friends,” Lan Wangji agrees. “This one is not mine, but he is keeping me company.”
“Nice,” Wei Wuxian agrees. “Maybe whoever you borrowed him from will let him hang out with me sometime.”
Their audience does not comment on this, but they didn’t need him to. Wei Wuxian sets the table while Lan Wangji cooks. A-Yuan’s palate is still pretty limited, so he’s used to making three separate elements of one meal, and can live with cutting up cooked hot dog into little coins so long as he doesn’t have to eat them himself. They just supplement their kid’s diet with a multivitamin.
A-Yuan looks askance enough, when dinner is ready, that Lan Wangji takes Bunny off his shoulder and asks, “Where should he sit while we eat?”
There is a fourth chair, albeit completely out of proportion, but he doesn’t dare try it. Instead A-Yuan thinks for a minute, and points to the kitchen counter behind the table. Lan Wangji props Bunny up against the wall, observing dinner if not participating, and after a second to think, A-Yuan accepts this as normal and climbs into his chair. He is meticulously well-behaved.
Lan Wangji aches for his son, and hopes one day he’ll feel confident enough in their love to break the rules around them.
They eat.
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ratmonky · 3 years
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Deceitful Curse
Word Count: 10K
Warnings: non-con, stalking, obsession, mild blood, chikan, gaslighting, manipulation, humiliation, degradation, misogyny, exhibitionism
AO3 Link
As promised, this will be a gift fic for my lovely friend @lyrrotting​ , I promise I will write your four armed Sukuna fic soon to make up for this shitty fic lol <3 
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It was said that most people had an angel sitting on their right shoulder and a devil sitting on their left shoulder, the two bickered into the person’s ears about many things. While the devil would try to tempt the person, the angel would become the sound of conscience.
However, Yuuji only had the King of Curses whispering in his ear and he himself had to be the voice of conscience within his own mind.
Certainly, there would be a time he would be tempted to listen.
~~~
Life was good, Yuuji had already graduated over a year ago and gotten his sorcerer license to work until his inevitable execution.
Life was good, everyone had moved on with their lives. Inumaki had gotten a girlfriend, Fushiguro had a girlfriend and from what he heard, Maki and Kugisaki were dating each other.
Life was good, they were all happy.
Life was good, everyone else was happy.
~~~
There was a new coffee shop that had opened just two blocks down from where he lived. Naturally, Yuuji wanted to check it out for the sole purpose of seeing how big the place was. When he invited his friends over to his place and if they ever stayed the night, he wanted to have a place he could take them to for a brunch or a cup of coffee.
Unfortunately for him, the place was small. There were barely a dozen tables and nobody seemingly wanted to sit at the cramped coffee shop when they could walk to the nearby park to enjoy their coffee.
The place was crowded due to rush hour so he returned a couple of hours later to finally order something.
As soon as he walked inside, the sugary smell of the sweets and the strong aroma of the coffee surrounded him.
“Welcome!” said a cheerful voice. It was you, beaming at him with the brightest smile he had ever seen on anyone. It looked too genuine to be a fake service worker's smile.
He hesitantly walked up to the counter with a blush coloring his cheeks from the intensity of your smile that was aimed towards him. “Hi,” he said before lifting his eyes up to the menu displays. “Ah.” He had no idea what to get. “Takeaway, I think, and ahh… Um…”
As if you noticed his struggle, you started talking. “If you like sweets I’d recommend my special summer drink. If you like coffee, I can give you the best brew in the whole city. It isn't strong but the aroma actually tastes like fresh coffee beans, I roast them fresh every day.” You were so bright, still smiling. Didn’t your cheeks hurt? How could anyone be this sweet? “Or I can choose a drink for you! Trust me, I’ll make it count!”
He understood none of the things you were saying but he felt like he could trust you to choose a drink for him, so he nodded approvingly.
Clapping your hands together, you walked behind the coffee machine and disappeared from his view. “You live around here?”
Yuuji was caught off guard and didn’t realize you were talking to him for a while until you repeated your question. “Ah, yes! I live around the corner.”
“I’ll do my best to impress you so you’ll buy coffee from here every day.” Your tone wasn’t flirty. It was friendly and inviting, actually welcoming.
“That’s a good business tactic,” he said, matching your tone. “But I’m not that easy to impress.”
“Isn’t my prices enough to impress you? They’re rather cheap for the service you get and I’m not even talking about the quality of my products.” You reappeared with a plastic coffee mug, it had ice and apparently black coffee in it. You poured some sort of golden cream over the coffee on the counter where he could see it.
Like hypnotized, Yuuji watched with his mouth wide open as the two colors mixed in a gradient effect in his drink before you put a lid on it.
“Was that good enough?” you asked, proudly. “To impress you I mean.”
“Y-yeah.” He reached and took the drink you set on the counter. He was carefully examining the colors in awe when he abruptly realized that he hadn’t even paid yet. Hastily he dug his hand in his pocket and took out his wallet, “I’ll come here more often I think if I like the drink of course.”
“Hmm, you’ll like it so I’m not worried.” You smiled as he paid with his credit card. “See you later…” Furrowing your burrows, you looked at him so he would fill in.
“Itadori,” he introduced himself, blushing. “Yuuji Itadori.”
“(name),” you said, offering a cute smile. “Have a nice day, Itadori.”
“Y-you too.” He waved awkwardly and you did the same with a giggle. It was clear that he was a little overwhelmed.
By the time Yuuji exited the shop, he hadn’t realized how hard he was blushing or how he had forgotten to even try his drink. Then he blushed even harder realizing how embarrassing he acted back in the shop but he shook his head to get over those thoughts.
Decidedly, he took a sip from his coffee and immediately understood why you were so confident that he would be back to buy more.
~~~
The next day, it wasn’t exactly the incredible coffee you had sold him yesterday that brought him here.
It was you.
He was trying to convince himself that wasn’t the case though.
However, Sukuna knew the truth.
~~~
“Being single sucks!” Yuuji complained with a whine after slamming his empty glass on the table.
“You should try those dating apps if you really want a girlfriend,” Fushiguro replied and flicked the ash off his cigarette on the ashtray.
“I agree, Itadori, if you really are determined to be in a relationship then you should try meeting new people.” Yuuta fanned the smoke Fushiguro blew towards him away using his hand with a forced smile.
Inumaki nodded in agreement, continuing to munch on the salted crackers and avoiding drinking.
“It’s easy for all of you with pretty girlfriends to say!” Panda cried, “It’s only me and Itadori who’s single.” He wrapped his big arms around Yuuji and started rocking back and forth.
“You can always book a flight to China to meet with a female Panda?” Yuuji said in a confused tone, “Or the zoo?”
Panda froze and loosened his arms around Yuuji before pushing him away from himself. “That was rude.”
“Huh?” Yuuji raised a brow, still confused.
“His type is more… humane, I think.” Yuuta scratched at his cheeks and raised his brows, hoping that Panda would deny what he just said but he didn’t.
“Wait.” Yuuji’s eyes widened, “So, you’re telling me that it would actually work between you and a human, or is it-”
“Itadori,” Fushiguro said to stop Yuuji from delving deeper into the uncomfortable topic. “Leave Panda’s love life alone.”
“Hmm, why did you bring up the topic of wanting to get a girlfriend?” Yuuta asked, humming thoughtfully. “Do you have someone you like?”
“Deja vu,” Panda mumbled under his breath, nobody heard him.
As soon as the question was asked to him, Yuuji thought of one single person; you. The image of your smile and your cheerful voice. It was just a simple crush, the two of you were total strangers. Yet, he was still thinking about you right now and couldn’t get you out of his mind.
He suppressed all of those thoughts and noticed how everyone was looking at him, waiting for his answer.
“No, I don’t,” Yuuji replied.
~~~
Unlike Sukuna, Yuuji was an inexperienced young man. He was a celibate too. Which meant that to him, sexual desires had to come after love. The feelings of love and affection were important when it came to sex. Having sex was an act of love and a form of affection, to prove to the person he was involved with that he was devoting himself to them.
Pathetic.
The kid had already grown up to be an adult but still had the mentality of a child.
Sukuna knew he could help.
~~~
“You’re coming here more often now,” Sukuna pointed out. “Is it because you know the server likes you?”
“No, she doesn’t like me,” Yuuji deadpanned. He pouted cutely seconds later and watched you walk over to his table holding a tray with his drink on it with a bright smile. “I’m here only because this place makes the best coffee.”
“Here you go,” you chirped, putting Yuuji’s drink on the table. Your friendly smile and gorgeous eyes wandered on his face for a moment longer than usual. “Let me know if you need anything else.”
“Thank you.” He was blushing.
You flashed him another stunning smile before turning around on your heels.
“She’s into you,” Sukuna declared.
Yuuji ignored Sukuna’s words and stared after you as you walked back to the counter to take another order. His eyes couldn’t leave the way your hips moved with each step you took.
Sukuna’s lips on Yuuji’s hand grinned before disappearing.
~~~
“The girl looks like her,” Sukuna said.
“Will you be quiet?” Yuuji groaned and slapped his cheek so he would go away.
It was silent, he smiled to himself. Finally, he had some privacy.
The porn actress spread her legs and Yuuji wrapped his left hand around his cock after licking his palm as he was holding his phone with his right. He slid his fist up along his length and squeezed tightly towards the tip. The pressure felt the best when he applied it to the sensitive tip.
Loud moans coming from the actress filled his apartment since he hadn’t bothered to put on headphones. Not that he needed them when he was living alone but it was a habit now. So, he lowered the volume.
However, there was another reason why he didn’t need to hear the moans of the actress.
“She doesn’t sound like her, does she?” Sukuna made fun of him.
Yuuji ignored him and didn’t bother to tell him that it wasn’t the case. He just needed to cum and go to bed, that was it. He was too used to Sukuna interrupting his self-care time at this point and if the King of Curses didn’t mind watching a guy jerk off to some cheap porn, so be it. They were sharing Yuuji’s body and mind. Or not?
Yuuji focused on the video as the girl bent over and started fingering herself in an awkward position. His hand around his cock started moving to match the way her fingers went in and out of her cunt.
She really looked like you.
Wasn’t that why he had chosen this video?
Nevermind. Forget about it.
He had read or heard somewhere that masturbating with the non-dominant hand could give more pleasure. It was something he had done when he was only a teenager to try it out but now he liked to use his left hand.
It felt different, sometimes his hand went numb and it felt like someone else was touching him. You were touching him.
You.
This had to be how a handjob felt, if you ever gave him a handjob it would definitely feel like this.
Yuuji dropped the phone and closed his eyes, only focusing on his fantasies about you while jerking himself off. His hand moved faster while his hips were desperately thrusting up as if to mimic fucking you.
You would tease him, wouldn’t you? Stare at him with a grin, edge him and even slow down just to make him whine.
Or perhaps you would get rid of your clothes hurriedly to ease yourself down on his cock. Were you a virgin? You would be his first, he would want you to be your first too.
Were you the type to whimper or moan during sex?
Where would you place your hands?
Would you move your hips?
Which position would make you lose yourself?
He would want to be on top, so he could watch your face and kiss you.
What kind of face would you make?
Would you be blushing and moaning?
The image of your eyes overflowing with tears while your face was being stained with the same tears and your ruined makeup appeared within his mind.
Yuuji abruptly came harder than he ever had in his whole life and his seed landed on his stomach, his orgasm left his legs shaking in pleasure.
~~~
He didn’t go to the coffee shop the day after from embarrassment.
~~~
“You weren’t here yesterday,” you remarked while making his drink. “I was sure you were going to be here after I made you my new drink on the menu.”
“Ahh, I was just busy and didn’t have time to swing by.” It was a simple lie and it wasn’t like he could ever tell you that he was scared of himself after he came to his fantasy of seeing you cry. “I didn’t think you’d miss me this much.”
“Well, you’re my only loyal customer,” you pouted and put his drink on the counter. Nobody else was in the shop, another coffee place had opened just around the corner. “You always drink my special brew coffee too. It’s like an honor to me that you like my coffee.”
“It’s the best coffee I’ve ever had,” his reply was instantaneous and honest. “I like this place, I can tell how much love you put into making your drinks and it feels cozy here.”
You were grinning, “Mm, tell me more. Praise me more. What else?”
He started smirking but his blush ruined the smug face he was making. “Never mind, you’re weirding me out.”
“Hey! I was just asking you what else you like about my place! What’s weird about wanting to know how I can make this place better?” you feigned anger.
He wanted to tell you that he was only coming here for you. Wait, no. He came here for the coffee. Nothing else.
“What about making new drinks every week? They’d sell more and you’d get to try out new things?” he said after careful thinking.
“That’s actually a good idea, thank you, Itadori!”
Ahh, the way you said his name… Yuuji wanted to hear you say his name again and again. Over and over again.
“It’s nothing,” he replied, rubbing his neck nervously with his hand. “I’m just trying to help.”
~~~
It started with small words of encouragement.
“That woman likes you, I can tell from the way she smiles at you. Talk to her more and befriend her.”
“It’s not like you to say nice things,” Yuuji said, averting his gaze from yours in embarrassment when you looked his way. He hoped you hadn’t caught him looking. “Besides, she’s just a server. It’s her job to attract customers with a smile and sweet talk.”
“Every server needs a master,” Sukuna spoke through Yuuji’s hand. Nobody could see him since the guy had his hand pressed against his ear. “She doesn’t look at you the same way she looks at the other peasants here.”
Yuuji didn’t say anything.
~~~
His finger hovered over the follow button.
”That’s her?” Sukuna asked, his ancient soul was getting used to the technology he saw his vessel was using. “Those are her pictures?”
“Yeah.” Yuuji gulped, nodding languidly. It would be weird if he followed you, right? He had found your account by chance. Not because he found the account of your coffee shop and then scrolled through the following list to find a friend of yours and then searched through their following list to find your name to eventually find your account. Only by chance.
“She looks different in the pictures.” Sukuna was right. You were smiling as usual but you weren’t wearing your cafe uniform. You were wearing normal clothes. Clothes that revealed more of your skin, your shoulders, legs, thighs, and in some pictures your cleavage. There was a smug look on your face when you were looking at the camera as if you knew whoever was looking at these pictures was admiring your beauty.
“Yeah, she does.” He was now looking at a picture of you in a dress that fit you just right, showing your curves he hadn’t noticed in your uniform.
“She’s beautiful.” Sukuna could sense the intensity of his vessel’s stare at your picture.
“Yeah.”
“I’d save that picture if I were you.” Sukuna grinned.
Yuuji took a screenshot.
~~~
“You should be more assertive if you want her to consider you as a man,” Sukuna said as Yuuji was walking towards the coffee shop. “Women like confident men.”
“You come from the ancient times, this is the new age. Women are equal with men and I want her to feel-”
“Women want men. Not boys. Definitely not brats like you.” Sukuna disappeared when his vessel entered the coffee shop.
Yuuji sighed in a dismissive manner, “Whatever you say.”
~~~
Women want men.
~~~
“What do women like in a man?” Yuuji asked.
The happy laughter of the guys died out as soon as he asked that and the loud chatter of the other people inside the bar couldn’t fill the dead silence Yuuji created.
They were all looking at each other around the table now. Nobody wanted to talk.
“I guess they like guys who are assertive,” Yuuta responded when no one else did. “Megumi, why don’t you say something? What does your girlfriend like about you?”
Fushiguro was inanimate as he stubbed out his cigarette on the ashtray and took a long moment to consider what he was going to say. “She said that likes that I’m possessive and get jealous when she talks to other guys.”
“Hmm, possessive and jealous...” Yuuta nodded and then turned to Inumaki. “And your girlfriend liked that she can depend on you, right?”
“Salmon.”
“There you have it,” Yuuta concluded. “They like possessive guys who they can depend on!”
“What about you, Okkotsu?” Yuuji asked. “What does your girlfriend like about you?”
The person in question looked a little lost and taken aback that he was being asked. He had to take a deep breath to keep his facial expressions normal. “She likes that I take control.”
“How?” Yuuji was desperate.
“Isn’t that a bit invasive question, Itadori?” Fushiguro warned in a soft tone.
“It’s not invasive at all!” Yuuta forced a laugh and spoke in the same joking manner. “It means that I was a little pushy and bold, I think?”
Both Fushiguro and Inumaki started agreeing.
“I see.” Yuuji realized that Sukuna was right.
~~~
“Isn’t that her picture?”
Yuuji ignored him and continued rubbing his cock.
His hand started moving faster, his eyes were trained on the picture of you, eyes roaming on your body and imagining how it would feel to run his hands along your curves.
“She looks like she’d love taking it from her ass.”
“Shut up, she’s not like that!” he immediately protested. His cheeks were bright red from shame. He had never done it to the pictures of the people he had met. Only celebrities. It didn’t feel right.
“She’s a woman. I know what women want and like.” Sukuna was confident. “I know exactly what she wants, unlike you.”
Yuuji tried blocking out the curse’s voice in his head and tightened his grip as well as his pace. He was imagining you again, eyes full of tears and you were twisting your body to push him weakly away with your tiny hands as he took you from behind.
Thanks to that fantasy, he came in an instant.
~~~
Yuuji was a good guy.
He was sacrificing his life to save others every day and he was going to be executed for the sake of saving humanity from the curses.
He could never be the bad guy.
~~~
“Welcome,” you chirped as soon as he walked through the door. “The usual?”
Yuuji awkwardly smiled and bowed his head to greet you. “Y-yeah.”
“Had a good day?” Turning around, you walked away from the counter to reach the coffee machine, disappearing from his view.
Yuuji made his way towards the counter and tried recalling how his day had been. He had exorcised a couple of curses and even got the opportunity to catch up with Fushiguro and his girlfriend when they ran into each other downtown. To put it simply, his day had been the worst. “It was a good day, how was yours?”
Dumb.
You were only making small talk because he was a regular here, nothing more. He knew people who worked in small coffee shops like this were always friendly to attract customers, to give a sense of home to people who come here for a drink or the tasty sweets. It was a marketing strategy.
“My day was tiring. I took your advice and put a new drink on the menu but apparently, it’s really good because everyone wanted to try it. However, the thing is… it’s so hard to make it!!” You appeared in front of him again with his drink and pointed behind you, at the menu displays. “I ran out of strawberries twice and had to call to ask my friend to go buy some from the store for me.”
“Woah, that sounds really exhausting!” he said in a tone to match your own while you were making a cutesy pouting face. “Hmm.” There was a momentary pause as he took his coffee from you and grinned. “I changed my mind, I also want to try this incredibly hard-to-make drink too.”
Your shoulders slacked and you gave an exaggerated sigh. “I thought you of all people would pity me…”
“I’m known for being ruthless,” he joked, chuckling. The smile on his face was genuine and he couldn’t stop smiling, it was as if he could never be in a bad mood around you. “But yes, I was joking. No need to call a friend to buy more strawberries or anything.”
You pointed a finger at him with mock threat and anger. “Don’t make fun of me or I won’t serve you again.”
“That’s better than threatening to spit in my coffee.” He tilted his head and shrugged.
“You said it as if I don’t do it all the time.” You raised a brow.
Both of you laughed but once the joke died out, there was an awkward silence.
“Anyway,” you said, gesturing towards one of the tables you clearly had wiped and cleaned because you were getting ready to close the place. “You can take a seat there if you wanna, I sadly have to finish up cleaning.”
When he looked around he could see that there was a mop you were planning to use. He didn’t want to disturb you any longer. It would be weird if he sat down when you were desperately trying to close the shop for the night.
It was rude and you were only being polite to him.
“I’ll drink this on the way home,” Yuuji replied with a nervous grin, and the tension from your shoulders visibly relaxed.
“Have a good evening!” you chirped after him as he turned around his heels.
“You too!” He exited the shop.
“Coward,” Sukuna spat.
“Please, be quiet.” Not again. Not this devil again.
“You could’ve fucked her against that counter. She was all over you, begging for you to make a move.” There was an undeniable smile in his voice.
“Be quiet, will you?” No. You were just an innocent girl. Someone who was nice to him because he came to buy coffee. He was just a customer.
“You, brat, are going to die as a celibate if you keep this up. Have you ever stick it inside a woman before? Do you have any idea of how heavenly a woman’s warmth is? The way they squirm and moan under you as they give you the look of an angel’s and beg for you to take it slow, cling onto you with tiny little hands-”
“Shut up!” Yuuji slammed the coffee on the concrete ground, his chest heaving in anger and frustration.
Some passersby stared at him and walked further away from where he was standing.
Sukuna disappeared with a smile.
Yuuji took a deep breath to calm himself.
~~~
The bells over the wooden door chimed, announcing his arrival.
“Hi!” you quickly yelled and appeared by the counter, your smile widened when you realized it was Yuuji. “The usual?”
“You don’t need to ask,” he replied, eyes softening and shoulders relaxing. He felt like himself in here, he felt at home.
“Did you have a good day?” you asked before disappearing behind the coffee machine.
“It was a bad day until I came here,” he said lumberingly, his cheeks flushed from nervousness. He was terrible at flirting.
You laughed, he couldn’t see your reaction but you sounded happy when you spoke. “Ahh, I’m glad I’m able to make you happy! It brings me joy when I manage to help others have a good day in one way or another!”
So kind and selfless.
The two of you were a perfect match.
Seconds later you were standing in front of him with his drink on top of the counter. “I hope you’ll have a great rest of the night, Itadori! I’m glad my coffee was able to help you feel better.”
He opened his mouth to say that it wasn’t the coffee that made him happy but he closed it when he realized how weird it would sound. “Thank you.”
~~~
“I like you and I think we should hang out sometime,” he said, smiling awkwardly. Seconds of silence passed and he slapped a hand on his face in embarrassment. After taking a deep breath he tried again. “Do you wanna go out for dinner this weekend?”
“You are acting like a brat,” Sukuna mocked. “Go up to her and tell her you to want to make her yours like a real man.”
Yuuji ignored him while staring at his reflection in the mirror and groaned. He hated when Sukuna said things that made sense.
His clothes were ironed and his hair was slicked back with the hair gel he had bought in a rush.
“You look pathetic.” Brutally honest, Sukuna’s voice had a tone of embarrassment in it. He was ashamed of living inside him.
“I look good.” Yuuji wasn’t going to let him ruin this moment. He was going to prove to everyone else that he could get the girl if he acted like himself. There was no need to be pretending something he wasn’t when it came to you. He knew you would want him to be honest.
“She’s going to reject you, brat. Don’t ridicule yourself and take my advice.”
“What’s your advice?” Yuuji scoffed, “Manhandle her?”
“You’re feeling the instinct of mating and lust,” Sukuna said. “You want to fuck her, you don’t want to make love to her or whatever the humans call it.”
“What?” Yuuji forced a smile on his face and laughed hysterically, “Are you even hearing what you’re saying?”
“Love isn’t real. Obsession, lust, and devotion are real though. You want to breed her. Don’t mix up libido with what peasants would call love.”
There was a grim pause.
“I like her,” Yuuji said. “She’s pretty and she seems like a nice person. Her smile is cute and-”
“Do whatever you want, brat,” Sukuna yawned, getting ready to disappear from Yuuji’s cheek. “Try not to throw a tantrum when you get rejected.”
“You were the one who told me to go up to her and make her mine?” Frustrated, Yuuji rolled his eyes in irritation.
“Making some woman yours doesn’t mean to woo her or make love to her. Are all brats the same as you? Don’t you know that women are pleasure dolls for men? They live to please men.” Sukuna was getting serious, he raised his voice with each sentence. “Women are like fish, they don’t have feelings.”
“That’s not true.” Yuuji’s voice got a little weaker than he had intended to. “You’re wrong.” It didn’t sound like he was denying what Sukuna had said and trying to convince himself that wasn’t the truth instead.
Sukuna disappeared from his cheek with a malicious grin.
Shaking his head to gather his thoughts, Yuuji quickly walked out of his room and exited his apartment.
It took him twenty minutes to get to the coffee shop when it usually took him barely ten minutes. He had gotten flowers for you. Not really sure which ones to get, he had chosen one of the pink and red bouquets on display. He was nervous and sweating. He had to wipe his palms down on his jeans to keep them dry way too many times, he had stopped counting after the seventh time.
He stood outside of the cafe, trembling in excitement. There weren't any windows at your coffee shop thus he couldn’t see if there were any customers inside. He could only hope that it would be just the two of you alone since there was something very special he needed to tell you.
I love you.
I love you.
I love you.
He grabbed the handle and opened the door. You were behind the counter, looking down at your phone. As soon as the bells over the door chimed you put it away and smiled, “Welcome!”
I love you.
I love you.
I love you.
Yuuji’s grip tightened around the bouquet he was holding, his cheeks started burning in nervousness.
“Woahh, you’re going on a date?” you asked while he walked up to the counter, your voice was as cheerful as ever. “I couldn’t recognize you, should I give you the usual?”
“Uhh, no.” He paused. When both of you stared at each other he realized how awkward and confusing his answer was. ���Um, it’s not a date but I’m gonna ask the girl I like out.” His face was turning beet red.
“Aww, that’s so adorable! She’s so lucky, you’ve even bought her flowers, so cutee!!” You pressed a hand over your chest, feigning being hurt. “Ahh, my heart can’t handle it.”
“Y-yeah.” He blushed harder, shifting his weight on his feet nervously. “She’s one of the nicest people I’ve ever met.”
“You better treat her right then and I hope she’ll say yes.” You didn't miss the eyes on you and continued smiling in discomfort. “The usual?” you asked once it started getting a little too quiet and he nodded.
The uncomfortable silence started making Yuuji reconsider what to say or if he should say them at all. You put his coffee on the counter before he could take his time thinking.
“Is that all?” you asked as you were putting his order’s total into the cash register.
I love you.
I love you.
I love you.
“N-no,” he replied in a quiet voice while reluctantly taking out his wallet to pay for his coffee.
“I hope you have a lovely night, Itadori. Go get the girl!” you cheered him on with a cute smile.
“Actually,” he started, looking at you with his flushed cheeks and fidgeting with his fingers. “Ahh, (name), I wanted to tell you something.”
“Hmm, what is it?” You were smiling, watching him in confusion.
Yuuji decided that he shouldn’t beat around the bush at this moment because he wanted to seem confident. He knew if he didn’t spit it out now or else he would never say it. He had to get to the point and dive in ahead without any hesitation.
“I like you.”
Lifting the bouquet, he held it up towards you as you looked at him and then at the bouquet repeatedly with wide eyes but you didn’t seem shocked.
You opened your mouth to say something but closed it again.
“I mean, you’re such a nice person and I found myself always looking forward to seeing you. I think about you all the time and I can’t get you out of my head. I used to hate it here, it’s a large city with too many people… but then you took over this shop, and now I… don’t hate it that much.”
He was saying all that with a puffed chest and a big goofy grin on his face, his cheeks were blushing as he tried not to look nervous. However, when he saw the way your smile curled down to a frown as he kept on talking, it felt like someone poured iced water down his head.
Yuuji couldn’t breathe.
“Um, that’s flattering,” you said, forcing a smile on your face and taking the bouquet from him. “Were these for me?”
“Y-yeah.” He rubbed the back of his neck.
You nodded languidly, noticing that you were the girl he wanted to ask out. “I… I don’t know what to say. Thank you, I really appreciate it.” You couldn’t find the words that wouldn’t hurt him.
Gradually, he noticed how uncomfortable you looked and his smile disappeared from his face.
“I’m sorry but I’m not looking for a relationship, I’m really busy with working and taking care of this cafe but I appreciate your feelings.” You averted your gaze from him for a moment, a scoff left your lips. Were you laughing at him? “I apologize if my affable demeanor gave you the wrong idea but sadly I can’t return your feelings.”
He looked down to his feet to pull himself together, an icy shiver ran through him as he spoke. “Thank you for being honest with me.”
So childish.
“Of course,” you said, forcing a chuckle.
“I hope we can still be friends, I wouldn’t wanna lose you.” Yuuji was desperate, he couldn’t imagine a life without you.
“Of course!” you repeated with a louder forced chuckle. “I don’t want this to ruin our friendship!”
“Me neither.” He couldn’t lift his head or move, his body had turned to stone.
The pauses started to grow longer and eerily quiet. You were the one who spoke next.
“Thank you so much, Itadori, I’m flattered by your confession and I hope we can be close friends!” Pressing the bouquet on your chest and hugging it with both arms, you used a soft tone to talk to him. “I need to close down and catch the train home, I’ll see you later?”
“Yeah…” Yuuji turned around and walked out of the cafe without saying anything else, leaving the coffee he had paid for on the counter.
“I told you, didn’t I, brat?” Sukuna mocked, voice full of mischief as he appeared on his vessel’s cheek.
“Leave me alone,” Yuuji hissed. He was walking away from the coffee shop, not going home though, not yet. He needed to calm down.
“Women want to be ordered around, brat. They want men to take control. If you act like a brat, they won’t see you as a man.”
Yuuji’s breath hitched upon hearing Sukuna’s words. His knees started feeling weaker than they ever could but he had to stand proud, assert his dominance over the King of Curses and collect himself.
It wasn’t fair! It wasn’t fair that he was in this situation, it wasn’t fair that he was rejected, it wasn’t fair that he was cursed to live in despair. He was eventually going to get executed and he hadn’t had a youth where he fulfilled any of his dreams. He had wanted only one thing, to feel happy with one person and that childish wish must have been too much to ask. Not only he got rejected but now he had Sukuna making fun of him.
“You must be a man and make her yours.”
“She told me she didn’t want a relationship.” Yuuji couldn’t deal with him anymore. “We’re friends.”
“Do you want a woman for yourself or not, brat?” Sukuna sighed in irritation before humming thoughtfully. “I’ll help you,” he offered generously, “I’ll help you make her yours.”
“Leave me alone, Sukuna.” Yuuji was getting angrier, and soon he started to tremble in rage.
“Let me help you to get a taste of a woman, brat.”
“She rejected me-”
“She’s just playing hard to get. A woman like her wants to be chased. She didn’t tell you to get lost because she wants you to keep coming back to her so you’ll continue to give her your attention. That girl would spread her legs for anyone who gives her attention if she wasn’t a prude. She’s a virgin, that must be why she’s acting like this. I can smell it, the blood that’s yet to bleed once her innocence is taken. You need to take it, brat.”
“You want me to rape her, is that it?” Yuuji spat, he had never thought he would say those words out loud.
“I never said that, brat.” Sukuna let out a chuckle, lying. “Let me show you what I mean.”
“I’m not letting you take over my body,” he replied coldly.
“I don’t want to take over your body, that woman is yours,” Sukuna assured.
“Then, what do you want me to do?” Yuuji asked.
Sukuna grinned viciously, “Let's go back to where she works first.”
~~~
“Itadori-”
The door closed after him with a soft click.
You let out a frustrated sigh and pressed the bouquet against your chest, hugging them tightly.
That hadn’t gone well at all.
Your eyes landed on the coffee he forgot to take with him on the counter. “I’m the worst,” mumbling, you put the flowers on the counter to prepare the cafe for closing.
You took the paper coffee mug and poured it out, the dark liquid went down the sink as you watched, hypnotized and lost in your thoughts.
That guy… He wasn’t like any other you met. He was adorable and matched your energy like no other person ever had. You enjoyed being around Itadori and you were glad he felt the same but… he knew you for less than two weeks. He was clearly confused, he had made a friend who he managed to click instantly and mistook his feelings for love.
Nonetheless, you felt terrible. It was never easy to reject someone, especially when you were so busy trying to manage the coffee shop of your dreams you finally got to open.
Itadori had to understand that. He would understand, right?
Oh, he had looked so excited and nervous. He had even slicked his messy hair back and brought flowers…
You hoped he would get over it quickly or at least, he would come to the shop tomorrow so you could comfort him. The two of you needed to talk a little more, you needed for him to know that you didn’t want to break his heart. You felt the need to apologize, ahh, so stupid. You hadn’t even done anything wrong.
It hurt though.
It still hurt.
You hated making other people feel bad. You wanted to be the reason behind their smiles and laughter, not tears.
Packing your stuff and turning off the lights, you left the shop. The door was locked two times as usual before you hurried down the street towards the subway.  
The station was packed more than usual and you immediately regretted not listening to your friend’s advice on renting that one apartment down the block. But complaining right now wasn’t going to get you home.
You hopped on the train and shielded the bouquet with your arms wrapped around it as you tried not to get crushed by the swarm of people getting on the train. Once the doors closed, you had successfully managed to find a place by the train door with a little space so you could avoid getting the bouquet crushed.
Facing the doors, you stared out the small window, it was dark but every second or another a light would zoom in and out. You weren’t sure if they were there for navigating or not but you found yourself too focused on the lights as the sudden brake of the train made you stumble forward.
When you regained your balance to stand up straight, there was someone behind you. They were a little too close but it was nothing out of the ordinary, you always found yourself being pressed against other people during rush hours in the subway.
At the next stop, the doors on the opposite side opened and another swarm of people filled the train. Now, the person behind you was trapping you between their body and the door that was in front of you.
You were showing extra carefulness to not let the bouquet get crushed, you wanted to take it home in one piece without anything happening to it. These flowers were beautiful, they smelled amazing too. You wanted to cherish them even if you hadn’t managed to cherish Itadori’s feelings.
As you were inspecting the bouquet you saw a small card that was attached to one of the flowers. You checked it and realized what it was.
It was Itadori’s phone number and a cute little heart drawn next to it with a small message.
‘I’d love to hear more of your voice and complaints about work in private!!’
You didn’t realize you were smiling at the note until something brought you out of your trance.
A voice to be exact.
“Your lover got them to you?” A husky voice asked.
Lifting your head, you stared at the small window. From the almost transparent reflection on the window, you could see that the guy behind you had talked. You couldn’t see his face from his hoodie covering his features but you could tell that he was talking to you.
“Um, not really,” you replied. It wasn’t abnormal to you that other people made small talk to you, you talked to strangers more than anyone else every day. You always overshared anyway. “They are from a close friend.”
“He must love you.” There was an undeniable smile in his voice.
You forced a chuckle, looking down in front of you. “Y-yeah.”
When the train braked abruptly, he got closer. “Touch her-” It was a whisper from the same guy, you were unable to make out the words clearly but you decided to ignore him for the rest of the ride. You needed to get off in twenty minutes and were too tired to act friendly.
That was when you felt the back of his hand brushing against your ass.
You froze, before you could call it an accident and blame it on the crowded train, he pressed the back of his hand more purposefully on the soft flesh.
Fear paralyzed your body and you found yourself at a loss of words. You didn’t know what to do, you wanted to move away but you were trapped between him and the door.
“You’re not gonna ask for help?” he asked, leaning forward to mock you.
It was too humiliating and you were unable to think of anything. Somehow, you shook your head to tell him to stop because your voice wouldn’t come out. You pressed the bouquet harder against your chest in panic, praying to whoever was listening that the guy would stop.
You heard him say something but every other voice was muffled now, it was as if your ears were filled with cotton.
The only thing you did was to hope that you could muster up the courage to push him away and get out on the next stop.
Why was this happening to you?
Why?
“See, I told you.” Sukuna scoffed as Yuuji’s entire face was beet red. “She’s not even gonna ask for help because she wants you to continue.”
Yuuji saw your blushed cheeks in the reflection in the window, you were breathing heavily and standing still.
He couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
When Sukuna convinced him to follow you into the subway train and let him do the talking, he was conflicted because he wasn’t sure what the King of Curses wanted to prove but now, he knew.
“Women live to be conquered by men,” Sukuna concluded, “Do you understand it now or should I elaborate more?”
Yuuji was quiet.
“She’ll bend down and beg for you to fuck her right now if you continue touching her.”
You wouldn’t.
Right?
Using his whole hand, Yuuji groped your ass while trembling from dismay but he couldn’t forethought the way you reacted being anything other than screaming for help or pushing him away.
Instead of fighting back or doing anything he had thought you would, you mewled and stayed exactly where you were.
They were all right.
Fushiguro, Inumaki and Yuuta. They were all right.
Sukuna was more than right. He had been trying to help him but Yuuji was too blind to see it.
“Check her cunt, I bet she’s soaking wet.” Sukuna had said to mock his vessel. He didn’t expect for him to move his hand between your legs and under your skirt to press his fingers against your clothed pussy. Neither did you.
Letting out a squeal, you hunched forward, pressing your legs together in panic as his digits moved along your clothed slit that was completely damp.
He started rubbing his fingers between your folds, your juices soaked your panties and made sloppy sounds each time he moved his digits.
“I can hear it from here, did you wet yourself, or are you this wet for me?” Sukuna laughed audibly.
You shook your head, slouching further down and trying to move away from Yuuji’s hands.
“Women aren’t good liars,” Sukuna said as Yuuji slouched forward with you and pressed himself against your ass. “You’re aching to have a cock inside you, no?”
“Please,” you begged. You wanted him to stop.
“Oh, look, she’s asking so politely to be filled with a cock.” Sukuna made fun of your misery while watching the brat finally grow into a man.
Yuuji was sure Sukuna had taken over his body because he would never hump the girl he liked as he was fingering her over her clothes in a train. In public, he reminded himself, in a train and in public where nobody seemed to care.
His hands were moving on their own, he hooked a finger under the elastic edge of your panties to pull them to the side.
“W-wait, please,” you whispered in a weak voice, finally using a hand to grab his wrist to try to pull him away from your pussy. You weren’t strong or convincing enough though.
Yuuji slipped his fingers inside you and grinded his growing erection against your ass, earning a surprised moan out of you.
The hand that was grabbing his wrist immediately went to cover your mouth to suppress your voice as he started humping you to deliberately mimic fucking you.
“Please, stop…” Your voice was fainter than a whisper behind your hand.
“You say that but you’re pitifully trembling in anticipation.” His lips were brushing against the shell of your ear but it was as if he wasn’t using his mouth to talk.
“I’m not…” You pressed your legs together and trapped his hand between your thighs while he twirled his digits around inside you.  
“Lying isn’t cute, you know.” There was a smile in his deep voice, “Come on try harder to lie and make me believe you don’t want it.” He dragged his tongue along the shell of your ear, earning a surprised but muffled moan from you.
Yuuji brought his other hand up to cup your breast over your shirt, his cock was painfully hard against his jeans, and the knowledge of him touching his crush was too much for him to handle. He could cum in his pants if he wasn’t careful enough. Sukuna was saying the most vulgar things to you but instead of pushing him away, you were staying exactly where you were. It was fascinating to see how much you were begging to be touched.
It disturbed him a little, would you let any stranger touch you like this? Would you be this wet for anyone?
Yuuji didn’t want to know the answer but Sukuna did.
“Come on, be honest. Would you be this keen to be fucked by any man or is it because it’s me?” Sukuna asked, he was barely holding himself to switch with the brat, he loved corrupting innocent souls like you. He loved seeing the painful and pathetic cries they would let out as their faces were stained with tears.
You shook your head rapidly as his fingers inside you curled to rub a sweet spot you didn’t know existed.
“So, does that mean you wouldn’t want to be fucked by anyone but me?” Sukuna laughed while Yuuji let out a low groan, grinding harder against your ass, humping you roughly.
“N-nooo,” you were sobbing now, tears started running down your cheeks.
“Good girl… You’re finally being honest. You hear that? She would never want to be fucked by anyone but me.”
“T-that’s not what I meant…”
It was fun to tease girls like you. Sukuna could feel your fear and took incredible joy from hearing your voice crack. “Now, that’s cute… I wanna hear you cry out my name in your cute voice too.”
Yuuji groaned, shaking his head as if Sukuna was going to listen to him.
“S-Sukuna,” he mocked your crying. “Come on, say it just like that and beg for me to fuck you.”
Your body was shaking in fear, your cries only spurred him on and you didn’t know what to do. “P-please stop, S-Sukuna.” The way you whimpered his name, there was no way Sukuna could hold back.
“You better take her innocence before I do it myself, brat.” Sukuna was a man of his word, he had promised the brat to not touch you but if he didn’t man up and fucked you here, he would have no choice but to do it himself. He would never let a girl’s innocence go to waste. The blood of purity was something holy for curses like him. It was the nectar of the gods from the most ancient times, something that could only be attained by the perfect innocent virgins.
“Don’t you dare,” Yuuji spat, speaking for the first time. “She’s mine.”
You didn’t hear him though. His fingers were thrusting in and out of you vigorously while he was humping you and fondling your tit. Your walls clenched around his digits as he moved his hand on your chest between your bodies to impatiently pull the front of his pants down.
Realizing what was about to happen when he finally pulled his cock free and hiked your skirt up, you stared at your reflection on the window, crying and begging him to stop.
Yuuji froze momentarily, pulling his fingers out of you. He could see your expression in the window but you couldn’t see his face. He was stunned by seeing your cheeks wet with tears and mascara running down to ruin more of your makeup, it was… it was purely so erotic and better than his fantasies.
He slammed his hips forward and buried the entire length of his cock in your pussy.
Your virgin walls squeezed tightly around him and the sharp pain of your hymen being torn made fresh tears run down your cheeks. Your hand covering your mouth went to the door in front of you to keep your balance because of the ferocity of his thrust. Your lips parted to scream in pain but his fingers being shoved inside your mouth stopped you.
You tasted your bitter juices on his fingers as he twirled them around your tongue, catching the muscle between his knuckles.
Yuuji felt lightheaded by the fact that he was actually having sex with his crush, on top of all that, you were both each others’ first. He knew he was going to cherish this memory forever and even though he would have liked to do it in a bed with the lights off, this was fine too.
It didn’t matter where he was as long as he had his cock inside of you.
With a moan, he staggeringly pulled his hips back to abruptly slam into your pussy. The blood of your innocence acted as a lubricant, made it easier for him to slip inside, and made a sloppy sound each time he thrust inside.
You could feel his entire weight settle on your back while he nuzzled against the side of your neck before he shakily licked the sensitive skin to get a taste of you. Instinctively, you tried moving your head away from his mouth but his fingers in your mouth prevented you. To put it simply, you were trapped and were at his mercy.
He picked up a discreet but still desperate pace to fuck you, he was still cautious of the two of you being in public but he was still delirious to be having sex with you. Sex. Did it always feel this good? Were you feeling good too? You wanted it, he knew you did because you told Sukuna you wanted it.
Slamming his hips forward, he knocked the air out of your lungs, you gasped on his fingers, drooling all over yourself from having your mouth forcefully kept open by his long digits.
Yuuji was hopeless to mark his territory, to mark you as his. He wanted everyone to know that you belonged to someone when they looked at you. You were his and only his.
His cock grew bigger inside you at the thought of him owning you. He started fucking you frantically, no longer bothering if the people around had noticed or not. Your cunt tightened around his cock and you felt his teeth sink into the sensitive flesh of your neck. He bit hard, hard enough to draw blood and leave you trembling in numbing pain.
Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as the tip of his cock hit a sweet spot and your legs shook uncontrollably under you, they were struggling to carry your weight.
His teeth sank deeper into your flesh and you dropped the bouquet you were holding against your chest to involuntarily arch your back instead. He chewed on your skin as he felt your virgin walls pulsate around his cock, you were begging to be filled with his seed, weren’t you?
Women were nothing but a bunch of breeding holes anyway. They all acted like innocent angels when deep down they all were whores. Pleasure toys for men. They lived to please men, didn’t they?
You lived to please Yuuji, didn’t you?
Yuuji pulled his hand out from your mouth and stopped biting you. He licked the blood from your neck to focus on fucking you with frenzied thrusts instead. All of his inexperience and desperation were behind his thrusts, along with his entire weight, forcing you to take the very shape of his cock and never forget the girth of it.
Continuing to peppering small kisses on your neck, he started angling his hips just right to hit the spot that made your knees unbuckle. One, two, three thrusts, and your legs were a shaking mess. You moaned in response before he wrapped an arm around you to keep you up on your feet.
“It feels good, doesn’t it?” Sukuna spoke suddenly, startling both of you. “You shouldn’t hold back anymore.”
Yuuji wasn't sure which one of you he was talking to but he kept on nodding and moving his hips.
“Nobody else is going to hear you, give me an honest answer,” Sukuna was chuckling. “How does it feel?”
How does it feel to be fucked?
How does it feel to be fucked on a train?
How does it feel to be fucked in public?
How does it feel to have your innocence taken away?
How does it feel to indulge the darker parts of your mind?
Yuuji’s hips stuttered when your walls clenched around him tightly as you refused to answer.
“I won’t know how it feels if you don’t tell me, (name).”
Your mouth popped open and you moaned upon hearing your name. How did he know your name?
As soon as he thrust into your pussy, you forgot about it and let out a moan.
Were you always this depraved?
He continued fucking you frantically. His pace was faster and more ruthless, he was close. With each thrust of his hips, he left you moaning in involuntary pleasure but there was no denying that it felt good.
It felt so good.
“Tell me, (name).”
It felt so good.
“Come on, tell me.”
“Please,” you begged. It feels so good. Feels so good.
“That’s not what I wanna hear,” Sukuna murmured. “Come on now.”
The automated voice announced the next stop.
“Hurry it up already.” He was getting impatient.
“It feels so good,” you whimpered, defeated.
“Good girl,” Sukuna grinned before disappearing from Yuuji’s cheek.
The shame overwhelmed all of your senses and you looked at your reflection in the window once more, you caught a glimpse of your aroused expression. You were such a whore.
Yuuji slammed his hips forward one last time and you felt the small twitch of his balls against your skin before his cock twitched, spurting thick ropes of cum inside you.
The train stopped and he pulled out of you.
His seed started gushing out of your pussy before starting to trickle down your legs. Most of the bodily fluid had pooled under you and when you fell hard on the ground, they soaked into your skirt.
The guy who assaulted you was nowhere to be seen as the doors of the train on the other side opened. Many people hopped off the train but nobody paid any attention to you and you were sure they had been oblivious to what had happened. Nobody would care anyway.
A sob tore out of you and you tried getting up. Your legs were like jelly but as you managed to stand up, you noticed the bouquet you had dropped. More tears started to come out, they blurred your vision and you found yourself grabbing it from the ground.
Thankfully, it wasn’t crushed.
The train doors closed and it started moving forward while you were trying to fix your skirt.
Ah, that was your stop…
You sobbed again but pressed a hand over your mouth to not disturb anyone. Your crying didn’t stop even after you got off of the train on the next stop. You wanted to call someone to help you get back home because you weren’t sure if you could make it alone. Your legs were hurt, the throbbing pain coming from between your legs wouldn’t let you walk or stand up.
You weren’t going to tell them what had happened. Nobody could know. You didn’t need their pity. You were too ashamed.
Sitting on a bench, you scrolled down your contacts but none of the names there would help you. Not unless they had something to gain from it. Wasn’t that why you dropped everything and moved here to open a coffee shop?
How pathetic of you.
People only used you for your kindness.
You shifted on your seat and something slipped out from the bouquet. When you picked it up, you noticed that it was the note Itadori had written for you.
There was an ugly pause before you dialed the unknown number and a familiar voice responded.
“Hey,” he sounded awkward. Of course, he would, you rejected him. “What’s up?”
“Itadori,” you whimpered, voice cracking. Immediately, you cursed yourself for being this pathetic.
“A-are you o-okay? W-what happened?”
Bursting into tears once again, you only told him that you only needed help in shame after clearing your throat.
It took him barely fifteen minutes to arrive at the station to get you. You wiped your tears as soon as he came into your view. He was breathless, face beet red from running.
“You okay?” he asked in between breaths. “I ran here as fast as I could.”
He ran here.
Has anyone cared for you this much?
“Yeah, thank you and ahh, I… This is embarrassing… I twisted my ankle and needed help getting home.” You were never a good liar but you hoped he was gullible enough to believe it. “I know it’s weird to call you here but none of my friends would come if I called-”
“Ah, it’s no problem!” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously and chuckled. He had been worried for nothing. “I can carry you, that’s what friends are for, right?!”
You nodded and bit your lip to prevent yourself from crying. He was too kind. Too similar to you.
“Want me to carry you on my back? Or like this?” He emphasized his words by holding his hands in front of himself to show you that he was offering to carry you bridal style.
“Yeah, that would be better.” You masked the shame with a fake smile. You were embarrassed that you were pathetic to ask him for help even after you rejected him earlier tonight.
He smiled and took a step closer towards the bench. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he slid his arm under the back of your knees and placed a hand on your back to support you as he lifted you up to take you home.
You were grateful that you had a friend like him in your life.
~~~
The next day Yuuji came to the coffee shop to take your offer from the last night about giving him a free coffee drink of his choice. 
You served him his coffee with a smile and sat with him on one of the tables, talking about your day as he listened to you complain. 
In the end, Sukuna was right, Yuuji realized. 
Women were begging to be fucked. Women secretly wanted it and that was why you were acting indifferent after all that happened the day before.
He had been worried over nothing, besides, he needed to be more confident and assertive like everyone told him to be. Then he would get the girl. That was what every article he read online, all of his friends and people around him told him. That was what Sukuna told him.
“Wanna go get dinner after you close the place?” he asked, taking a mouthful of his coffee.
“I need to clean and it might take a long while-”
“I’ll help,” he replied, smiling. “Everything’s on me.”
How could you say no to that? How could you say no to anything he had to say?
In your eyes, he was the nicest guy in the world.
Were you really going to pass on the opportunity to have him in your life?
“It’s a date then?” You were grinning, cheeks flushing as you said it. Slowly, you placed your hand over his on the table.
Yuuji gave you a blank stare, something sinister sparkled deep within his eyes but you couldn’t see it. Unbeknownst to you, his other hand under the table had a mouth on it that had an unsettling grin on it too. It was funny how clueless you were. Nonetheless, Yuuji took your hand in his to give you a reassuring squeeze and made you blush harder before agreeing, “It’s a date.”
159 notes · View notes
jennana501 · 4 years
Text
A Case for Rexsoka
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I’ve been around the block when it comes to ships. I’ve seen people obsess over them, and I too have been driven mad by obsession. I was a hardcore original avatar fan and I was OBSESSED with shipping Toph and Sokka together. Any time they so much as made an interaction I over analyzed it and picked it apart looking for clues that somehow would prove that my hunches were correct. It was because I related with both characters, and I loved their chemistry. I wanted them to have a romantic relationship because it would feel like some sort of personal validation.
I’m an adult now and nothing has changed. But it has been a while since I’ve desperately shipped two characters together that are not obviously romantically involved with one another, or who could be romantic behind the scenes or beyond the story shown.
Until Rex and Ahsoka.
And I’ve seen people be adamantly against it. 
“No no no it’s just a brother/sister relationship.” 
“No it’s gross she is a child”.
And of course being disagreed with on the internet can drive a person crazy, and instead of individually arguing with dozens of people online, I’m making this post once and for all to explain why I think Rex and Ahsoka have romantic feelings for each other. Especially Rex.
The argument I’ve seen, that their deep passion, commitment, love, admiration, and respect for one another (which are all so obvious you’d have to be...silly to not see it) are felt in a platonic fashion. Which, for the first 6 seasons and 8 episodes, I would totally agree.
But then Ahsoka comes back. And let’s face it. She is a woman. Age wise, she’s around 17, but everything from the maturity of her Lekku (which weirdly don’t get all that longer, especially compared to other Tagrutan women) to her poise and confidence, to her prowess as a warrior, a user of the force, and her ability to command soldiers as well as control her emotions points to her being an adult woman. She’s no Snips anymore; she’s no child. She’s grown up. And how her peers react to her illustrates how they now view her as an adult.
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First there is Obi-wan. Obi-wan has always been a mentor to her, a sort of second Master. Obi-wan never hesitated to guide and Ahsoka or offer his council. He is proud of her when she succeeds, and will admonish her when she makes mistakes. When she returns and he sees her as a woman, he changes the way he treats her. He acknowledges her maturity by addressing her as an equal. He doesn’t admonish her. Instead he discusses with her, challenging her ideas and letting her offer an argument for them instead of putting them down and telling her how she should think or act. He also comes to her in his time of need, trusting her to help him with Anakin.
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Then there is Anakin. We all know of Anisoka shippers, and they are perfectly able to ship and enjoy said ship, but we can all acknowledge that it is a crack pairing with no basis in the canon. Anakin portrays the perfect kind of brotherly love. He is excited to see Ahsoka, and is stunned by her unexpected reappearance. Things are harder for Anakin because he is used to their fun banter and sibling-like companionship. He’s constantly shut down with her business like manner and he struggles with coming to terms with the fact that she isn’t a little kid sister anymore. She is an adult with a mission and a plan. When he looks at her, he is endearing. He loves her. Admires her. And he can’t wait to pick up where they left off. There’s joy and adoration in his face. He is proud of her and what she has become, but he also feels alienated and even hurt because of how her adulthood has changed their dynamic.
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Then there is Rex. When he first sees her, he wants nothing more than to reassure her that she still belongs. The clones had accepted her into their family. As far as they were concerned, she was one of them. When he looks at her for the first time, he’s beaming with the same adoration as he had had for her before, but also with a solemn awe at what she has become and what she has grown into. He welcomes her back into his life without hesitation.
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But then there is a moment things shift so drastically that I paused the show and re-watched it half a dozen times. We all know it and love it. This face he gives Ahsoka. The Look.
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What we see here is something we have never, EVER seen in Rex for 7 whole seasons. And it is my opinion that this is the first time Rex has been able to feel and express that he is attracted to Ahsoka. In other words, Rex has a sexual awakening.
Up until this point, Rex has been a sexless character. Nothing he does is flirtatious, sexy, or at all suggestive that he has those feelings inside him at all. Every sexual being has a moment where they are first animalistically drawn to another being. Characters who have already had this moment are easy to pick out. Obi wan. Anakin. Ventress. These characters have already experienced their sexual awakening. Ahsoka has too. Lux was her first object of attraction.
But Rex has never had this moment. Until this reaction.
I know some of you might be thinking “but Ahsoka gives a very similar look to Anakin, does that mean she is sexually attracted to HIM?” It’s a very good point. Ahsoka and Anakin share some cheeky playful looks during “Old Friends Not Forgotten”. We see many characters give similar looks to other characters, but does this mean it means the same thing as when Rex does it? The short answer is no.
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When animators design a character, they establish the “range of emotion” for that character. You can easily see this when you look back at how many times you see Rex break from his stoic, captain’s face. He rarely laughs, smiles, or emotes in any way. This is why when we see him emote it is exciting to us as an audience. A character like Ahsoka or Anakin commonly show a wide variety of expressions. Ahsoka is much more likely to give a cheeky look than Rex is. So “the look” for Rex, means a lot more when he is doing than it does when another character does it, say Fives or even Obi-Wan.
Which means the writers are trying to tell us something about this moment. 
This moment has changed Rex’s and Ahsoka’s relationship. 
Now does this mean that they are going to go bang each other immediately? Does this mean the second they are alone after “Victory and Death” they start an intense, sexual relationship? Of course not. That’s not what this ship is about at this time. But the reason many of us ship it is because suddenly they don’t feel like brother and sister anymore. It isn’t entirely platonic. And the show does a good job to further emphasize this as they come closer and closer both emotionally, and physically during the finale.
Blocking is a huge factor in visual storytelling. During the finale, Rex and Ahsoka are blocked in a way that makes them as close as physically possible on the screen. This communicates to the audience that they are closer now than they have ever been. As Jedi and Clone Trooper. As friends, and as companions, their bond forged in the fires of war, struggling to find meaning in life as soldiers.
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In contrast, look how Ahsoka and Anakin are blocked in their scenes. There is nearly always a gap between them, illustrating that they are distanced from each other emotionally. Rex is even visually inserted into the gap between them in several instances. Anakin and Ahsoka are growing apart, but she and Rex are growing closer.
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We get to experience Rex and Ahsoka engaging in actions and conversations that we had rarely seen before. From casual banter, to moments of intense intimacy, to emotional peaks, Rex and Ahsoka interact more in these four episodes than in the previous six seasons. Part of this is because their maturity gap has closed. Ahsoka is finally Rex’s equal in experience and maturity. It is also in part because it is a unique dynamic. No Obi-wan. No Anakin. Rex and Ahsoka are equal leaders of the 332nd. There’s also the fact that they are put into life threatening situations and have no one else but each other.
But there is that “look” that is given at the beginning of all this that suggests something else, that as their bond undoubtedly becomes strong as beskar, there is an element of it that takes their relationship from the platonic to the romantic.
I feel every detail, moment, and piece of dialogue in the finale tells the story of this bond. 
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Many instances of their strong emotional bond have been spread throughout the internet, with most ready to acknowledge that they have a connection unlike any other, one that may even be described as a “force” connection. These last four episodes are so exciting because we see two friends reunited, but then we get to watch as their relationship transforms.
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Even disregarding their implied attraction to each other physically, they dive into each other and hold on tight. Ahsoka shares deep personal worries with Rex, and Rex and her are shown opening up to each other in ways they have never opened up before.
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We were all floored and dumbfounded at scenes such as these that show these characters at their most vulnerable. But they decide to be vulnerable together. Is it because they are all that is left of their 501st family? It part, this is definitely true. But by being this vulnerable they transform their relationship into something very different from what they had before. It will never be the same again, and it will be near impossible to back out of the emotional intimacy that these two have participated in. Once you have formed that kind of an attachment with someone, there is no going back, and as is seen in rebels, these two maintain that strong connection even after years of being apart.
This goes beyond their sexual desires or needs. They’ve forged a bond that cannot be broken. They have shared minds, shared pain and agony that only the other can understand. They’ve been isolated from the world, and all they have left is each other.
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And at the end of the series, when we have Rex and Ahsoka broken, their world flip upside down and everything they ever valued or cared about lies in ruins before them, the idea that they still have each other is that beautiful seed of hope Star Wars is so good at preserving. Those of us who believe that their relationship could be romantic want good things for Rex and Ahsoka. We want them to have that love and share it with each other. Maybe only for a few moments, but having known it would be better than both of them living and dying without having that experience. 
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When we see the two in Rebels, for me it confirms that these two love each other deeply. But their lives can never be lived in a normal fashion. They cannot even be together as partners in life. The Empire has stolen this from them. The tragedy of this ship is that it can never be the way we want it to be. Rex will age and die long before Ahsoka is even halfway through her own life. They cannot live with one another. They cannot wake each morning with each other, at least not at the point we see them in rebels. 
But they continue to love each other. Even over distance, even knowing that mortality will claim them with only a fraction of the memories that they deserve with one another. 
So please, the next time you see some art or a fic, or a post like this, think of what I had to say. Rexsoka is about two adults, their lives destroyed at the hands of Sidious, but in defiance they still forge a bond that he could never break or take from them. And that to me is beautiful and something to celebrate.
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Side note: I spent a ton of time making gifs but they never would work and so I had to use screenshots instead :(
EDIT: At the request of the OG poster of a few gifs, I have replaced them have also made some grammatical changes. 
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amygdalagustd · 3 years
Text
Kim Namjoon on Identity
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Namjoon explores the concept of identity time and time again in his life and in his music. He tends to focus on how different parts of himself might be in conflict with each other, and the tensions and confusion that goes with that experience. People are filled with duality, sometimes to the point that it tears us apart. The question of “who am I?” seems a simple one, but underneath it lies a lot of complexity. Who do I want to be? Who do other people want me to be? How much of my identity is formed by my past? Can I change who I am? Can I be multiple things at the same time? Who is the real me? What does it even mean to be the real me?
The question of “who am I?” seems to both fascinate and terrify Namjoon. In this essay we will tackle the question together as I explore all the different ways that Namjoon contemplates identity in lyrics and interviews.
From his decision to become a rapper in the first place to the struggle of taking care of himself as a world famous idol to the questioning of what having an identity actually means, we will travel through Namjoon’s career and highlight all the moments that he asks himself:
“Who the hell am I?”
It’s no secret that Namjoon was a very intelligent and driven student who got good grades in school. In his earlier lyrics he often writes about the pressure that was put on him to succeed and follow a certain path in life. As someone who was good at studying it was expected of him to prioritize his education above all else. Namjoon fit into that role well, but behind the scenes his heart was longing for music. He discovered rap and decided that he wanted a different path for his life. BTS’s early work is filled with messages of following your dreams and not letting other people decide what type of life you want to live. Namjoon often talked about the struggles of living in between the expectations of those around him and his own desires for his future. Some of those conflicting feelings are expressed in Voice, the intro song to his 2015 mixtape RM:
Straight A student and underground rapper
I occupied myself all day with being graded with meaningless numbers like beef gets graded
I just wanted to succeed
because that’s the only thing I was told by others so much that I almost got sick of it
The mirage called happiness- I thought it would be held there
But, sitting at my desk, I was never happy, not for a single moment
I secretly hid a blank sheet of paper between the pages of my study book without my mom’s knowing
My identity that I wrote down along the sound of drums and bass
The feeling of breathing that is different from that of receiving grade reports
Even when I was the top of my class, my mind was never at ease
Is it absolutely necessary to want something that others want?
I secretly raise the volume of my voice
so that you can know, so that it can reach you
I again raise the volume of my voice
so that you can know, so that it can reach you
He also touches on the subject in Born Singer, which was released in 2013:
To be honest, I was scared that I was to prove myself after talking big
that I, who used to know only pen and book, was then to surprise the world
I dunno, that I and the world’s expectations are too asymmetric,
I was scared that I might betray everyone who trusted me
I stretch my burdened shoulders and step onto the very first stage
BTS and Namjoon will continue to talk about the pressure of society's expectations and the difficulty of following your own path in songs like No More Dream, N.O and School of Tears. Fighting back against the oppressive school system is a huge part of their message and mission in their early career. They ask their fans and themselves to look at the person that they are expected to become and question if that image is in line with their own dreams and desires. Namjoon wrestled with this question himself, and therefore has the experience and passion to guide others who might be struggling with their identity and the identity that is put on them.
Idol and artist
The concept of being an idol vs being an artist is one that comes back often in BTS lyrics. Namjoon is an underground rapper who ended up in a boyband, and the identity of being an idol is one that he has wrestled with quite a bit. Can you be both an idol and an artist? Does becoming an idol mean that you have to give up on being an artist? Does it matter if you call yourself an idol or an artist? Does it matter what other people say about it?
Namjoon mentions this conflicting identity in Awakening on his 2015 mixtape RM:
Every night I fight myself inside me
My heart pounds, and my colleagues stab me in the back
saying I became a cripple after going into a company
Yeah fuck you I’m an idol, yeah yeah i’m an idol
I hated it at one time but now I love to get that title
Unlike some keep denying [their identity] to the end on television,
I now fully accept myself, and I just do me
Whether I’m an idol or an artist- it actually never mattered
The way you guys look at me was what defined me
I was obsessed over titles and hung up on how people described me
Listen to the rap of the guy who became a bit smarter as time passed
Namjoon gets shit for being an idol from the underground rap scene and gets shit for being an artist from the idol scene. He is hovering in between, writing his rap lyrics with the power and authenticity of a hip hop artist while simultaneously dancing and looking like a full fledged boyband member. He responds to this dilemma with unwavering pride, the drive to prove himself and a fuck you attitude. This energy dominates a lot of early BTS music. They are still trying to find their place in the industry while not really knowing where exactly they belong. Songs like the Cyphers and Mic Drop highlight the anger they feel about the mistreatment they face from both sides of the industry while boasting about their accomplishments and pride in who they are. Just like Namjoon in Awakening, Yoongi also often mentions his struggles with the identity of being an idol in his solo work. In Idol, the title track of the 2018 album Love Yourself: Answer, BTS face the subject head on:
You can call me artist
You can call me idol
Or you can call me anything else
I don’t care
I’m proud of it
I’m free
No more irony
Because I’ve been me all the time
You can point your fingers at me, I don’t care at all
Whatever reason you have to denigrate me,
I know what I am
I know what I want
I never gon’ change
I never gon’ trade
Why do you talk loud “blah blah”
I do what I do, so mind your own business
You can’t stop me loving’ myself
Idol is a proud, joyful, wonderfully weird and confident self love anthem. It’s a celebration of who BTS are at their core. In the song, they have accepted all the different aspects of their identity and they don’t feel the need to fit in with just one label. In the future, they will go on to say that BTS’s genre is just BTS, and they see no point in categorizing themselves.
RM and Namjoon
In 2018, BTS released a documentary series called Burn The Stage. The series followed them throughout the Wings tour and was supposed to show a more raw version of them.
In episode 6, Namjoon said:
Being an idol star, you don’t have a choice but to have two identities. I invested a lot in my identity as BTS and RM, and this is really a dilemma. We need to find ways to overcome this, and I’m trying different things. I study, I read books. I need time to be wholly me, the original me that I know.
Everyone in BTS has a stage name, a person they become when they present themselves in front of their fans. On stage Namjoon is RM, a fierce and confident rapper, a powerful and charming performer, a dependable leader and someone who lives a fiery and intense life.
Behind the scenes, Namjoon is Namjoon, a man in his twenties who is trying to figure out how to be an adult just like everyone else. He likes to go on bike rides, take care of plants, go to museums, read books and spend time in nature. He gets lazy and reads webtunes for 5 hours straight and sometimes argues with the people around him because they annoy him.
Namjoon spends the years of his youth as part of BTS, in the public eye, and sometimes that causes tension between these different parts of himself; the stage persona and the private person. In Break The Silence: The Movie which came out in 2020, there was a lot of talk about identity. During one of Namjoon’s segments he said:
There is also the fear of how well I’m taking care of myself, the Kim Namjoon as a person. Aside from money, fame, and a sense of calling, what do I really have? When you have those things all other things start to feel really valuable. Those who don’t have them would find them really special. I think it’s a repetition of that, so for me, there is a fear about whether I’m faithfully living the story of my life to the fullest.
He also mentions this dilemma in Airplane pt.2 on the 2018 album Love Yourself: Tear where the lyrics go:
Who should I live as today, Kim Namjoon or RM?
25, I still don’t know how to live well
For Namjoon and anyone in BTS, there is no simple answer to this question, as the nature of their job puts them in a position that makes it hard for them to develop a sense of self outside of the work they are doing. Even though Namjoon is part of an incredibly successful band, that doesn't mean he got it all figured out. As he has poured his youth and his energy into becoming the best performer he can be, he now feels like the Kim Namjoon behind the scenes deserves some energy and space to exist too.
Rap Monster and RM
Before Namjoon was RM, Namjoon was Rap Monster, a stage name that he used until November of 2017. The name Rap Monster fits the fierce and somewhat angst-ridden style of music that Namjoon was making in the beginning of his career. He decided to move on from the name in 2017 because it was no longer representative of him and the music that he was making.
In an interview with Entertainment Tonight Namjoon said that RM could stand for many things. He mentioned Real Me as one of the possibilities, but seems to prefer not to pin one specific meaning to the name.
In another interview with J-14 Magazine when asked what kind of advice he would give to himself in 2013, he said:
Hey Namjoon, Don’t name yourself Rap Monster. You’re a human. You’re not a monster. You’re a beautiful human.
Namjoon has often said that one of his missions in life is to love himself. This struggle to love himself often reflects in his lyrics, and now also in his decision to change his stage name, as the old one had some negative connotations to it. Perhaps Namjoons struggle with self acceptance, self worth and self love is one of the reasons that identity is such a big theme for him, as he is trying to figure out how to be a Namjoon that he can love. RM is a stage name that is more aligned with that goal as it leaves more room for flexibility and change.
Map of the Soul
The subject of identity is explored to the fullest in the Map of the Soul era that started with Map of the Soul: Persona in 2019, followed up by Map of the Soul: 7 in 2020.
Map of the Soul is inspired by the ideas of psychiatrist and psychoanalyst Carl Gustav Jung. The words persona, shadow and ego that are used in Map of the Soul come directly from his theory. BTS uses these concepts to examine different parts of themselves and their career over time. A lot of this era feels like a final examination of the question that Namjoon has been asking himself in different ways throughout his entire career: Who am I?
In Intro: Persona, the opener to both albums, Namjoon writes about his journey with identity in the first few lines of the song:
“Who am I,” a question that I’ve been asking myself for my whole life
A question that I will probably never be able to find the right answer for
If I were answerable with only a few words,
God wouldn’t have created all those many beauties
Namjoon realizes that he will probably never have a clear answer to the question of “who am I?” and he accepts that. He recognizes that his identity can’t be summed up by a few words or traits and that this isn’t a bad thing. Sometimes it can feel more secure to build our entire sense of identity around one aspect of ourselves (I am a straight A student, I am an underground rapper) but that puts us in a position without flexibility and without space for growth. As different parts of ourselves clash with each other we end up feeling scattered, unsure of who we are, and angry at ourselves. It’s only when those different parts of ourselves are allowed to co-exist that we can find peace and a true sense of self.
BTS will talk about this idea in other songs too, like in Idol, where Taehyung sings:
There are tens and hundreds of myself within me
Today, I greet my another self
They are all me after all,
so I just run rather than worrying
The notion also comes back in the speech that BTS held for the United Nations in 2018. The final message of that speech was to find your name and find your voice by speaking yourself. There was a lot of talk about losing your identity as a young child in favor of fitting in, and Namjoon encouraged everyone to be their own person and to find their own voice back. Throughout the speech he mentions how he is both an idol and artist, Kim Namjoon and RM, and also just an ordinary 24 year old guy. He is saying that he can be many things at once and strives to love all those different parts of himself at the same time.
In the final verses of Intro: Persona, Namjoon boldly and confidently claims that he is no longer ashamed of the different parts inside of him, writing:
Yeah my name is R
The ‘me’ who I remember and who people know
The ‘me’ who I created by myself to speak my mind
Yeah, I might have been deceiving myself, I might have been lying
But, I’m not ashamed of it, this is the map of my soul
The lyrics continue, focusing on duality, complexity and balance within his identity, accepting the different parts of himself that coexist together even if they clash:
Dear myself
You must never lose your temperature
because you don’t need to be warm or cold
Though I might sometimes pretend I’m good and sometimes pretend I’m evil,
this is the barometer of my direction that I want to set
The ‘me’ who I want to be
The ‘me’ who people want
The ‘me’ who you love
And the ‘me’ who I craft
The ‘me’ who’s smiling
The ‘me’ who’s crying sometimes
Living and breathing every second, every moment, even now
Within these lyrics there is a tone of direction and intent rather than one of being lost and questioning. This tone is very strong throughout the entire Map of the Soul concept, especially in ON, suggesting that maybe “finding” your identity isn’t about anxiously defining every single part of your personality, it’s more about choosing who you want to be and boldly pursuing the world as an incomplete human being. In the end, there is no simple answer to the question of “who am I?” and that’s okay.
All lyrics translations come from Doolset. Visit the website for additional notes and interpretations of BTS lyrics.
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casspurrjoybell-18 · 1 year
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Mutual Desire - Chapter 37
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*Warning - Adult Content*
"I'm not attracted to you," Damien Clark spat angrily. "Actually I hate everything about your personality. You're the sort of manipulator who thinks he can get everything he wants because he's loaded with cash."
"Who are you trying to really convince, Damien? You or me? You were on top of me, not even a minute ago, which means I physically felt the attraction you have for me."
Damien didn't need to blush at Alexander Nabokov's words since he was already red with anger but this shame and embarrassment nonetheless seized him. 
He looked away and wanted to disappear or be anywhere but in this room. 
Damien didn't see the point in denying his half-erection a minute ago, although it was now gone. 
Nabokov had very well felt it and in the position he was in. 
Damien had suspected the man would've felt it but at that moment, it was the last thing in Damien's mind, which funny enough, Damien wasn't even thinking at all during their tongue embrace.
"You know Damien, a person's body is not its ally but a traitor. It betrays you, shows your weaknesses even if you do everything to hide them and it reveals your desires," Nabokov said without emotion, while taking a few steps towards Damien to fill the space between them.
Damien lowered his head, his anger dissipating a little. 
He wasn't sure of being in agreement with Nabokov but he found no argument to contradict him.
"Even if I was sexually attracted to you, that doesn't mean I have to leave my boyfriend or do anything about this attraction."
Nabokov took another step. 
He harshly grabbed Damien's chin and raised his head.
"So you're just going to repress it?" Nabokov's voice was rather harsh but his expression remained untouchable by the slightest irritating emotion.
Damien aggressively liberated Nabokov's hand on his chin, his anger returning more strongly. 
Anger that he had mainly with himself and his fundamentally insane actions.
"No. I'm going to repress the thoughts and memories I have of you, like you and I never met. I don't want anything to do with you," Damien spat with venom.
Nabokov raised an eyebrow, a boring look spreading across his face, looking unbothered.
"You know there are other ways to get rid of this frustration," Nabokov informed Damien, putting a hand in his pants pocket.
Damien's eyebrows met halfway.
"What frustration?"
Nabokov made two more steps towards Damien.
"This frustration that you want me but you have to hold yourself back," Nabokov explained.
Damien let out a condescending laugh. 
He found this conversation he was engaged in to be downright ridiculous and its only purpose was to display Nabokov's madness.
"Want you? Did you hear what I just said? All I feel for you is contempt and after what you just ordered me to do, you just proved that I'm right to have that kind of resentment towards you. You're just an asshole."
"You're cheating on your boyfriend of three years of the relationship and I'm the asshole? I've never cheated on any of my former lovers."
Damien's hand flew a few millimetres from Nabokov's cheek, ready to inflict him the slap of the century but Nabokov's impressive reflexes prevented that slap from taking place. 
Nabokov's face darkened and his eyes were all but friendly. 
He added pressure on Damien's wrist, which arm was being held in the air. 
Nabokov scrutinized Damien intensely without voicing a word. 
The two men were shooting bitter stares at one and other in a heavy silence and suffocating atmosphere. 
Damien had never seen Nabokov's features so tense. He had the impression that the billionaire's gray eyes were stabbing him everywhere.
"Don't you ever try to raise your hand on me again, Damien. Understood? I don't tolerate being disrespected," Nabokov finally spoke, muttering his threat that sent shivers all through Damien's body.
Damien's throat tightened and he forcibly swallowed, nevertheless holding a steady look and an irritated gleam in his eyes.
"Let go of me," Damien whispered, grinding his teeth.
Nabokov added more pressure on Damien's wrist. 
He then brought Damien's arm that was still hanging in the air behind his back. 
Damien's other arm free of movement found refuge on Nabokov's chest, which he pushed aggressively but in vain.
"If you don't let me go, I won't hesitate to show you how much respect I have for you by spitting on your fucking face," Damien calmly swing his threat, his eyes expressing his stifled rage.
Nabokov provocatively brought his face close to Damien's, a few millimetres separating them. 
An arrogant smile traced his mouth.
"Why would you waste saliva by spitting on me if we could share it?"
Damien threw a raging glare at Nabokov, who stared back at Damien, his cocky smirk gone and replaced by an unreadable expression.
"You have no idea how much I fucking hate you," Damien whispered vehemently, his hand aggressively clutching Nabokov's collar, approaching their faces at the same time.
"Show me how much."
Damien Clark and Alexander Nabokov devoured each other with their eyes, letting seconds passed in a silence filled with tension. 
Damien accentuated the pressure on his hand, which held the collar firmly before his mouth glued to Nabokov's with perfect synchronization. 
This kiss was savage, greedy. 
They ate each other's mouths ferociously leaving very little room for small breaks to catch their breath. 
A breath that didn't seem to worry them in the least. 
Their tongues were too busy to taste each other to be aware of what was happening around them. 
Damien had already forgotten where he was, being transported by this kiss into another reality. 
All his thoughts were stopped. 
Nabokov had released the grip he had on his arm, using that hand to lower it down Damien's back and the other on Damien's cheek. 
They kissed as they walked slowly backwards, being unable to undo the kiss as if their mouths were Siamese twins. 
Their march ended when Damien's back hitting hard on the wall. 
He began unbuttoning Nabokov's shirt, their mouth still stuck together. 
Nabokov attacked Damien's fly and unfastened it with his eyes closed. 
Damien finished unbuttoning the shirt but was disappointed to find a white singlet covering Nabokov's chest. 
Damien didn't have time to stay disappointed for too long because Nabokov took out his hard erection from his pants and began to massage it gently. 
It was a surrealistic scene that was taking place right now and Damien had no choice but to stop the kiss so that he could see for himself what was going on. 
When he lowered his head to see Nabokov's hand on his hard shaft, Damien couldn't believe his eyes. 
He was sure he was in a dream, which wasn't impossible considering the sort of dreams he had been having of Nabokov, lately. 
With his eyes filled with pleasure, Damien contemplated Nabokov masturbating him, the billionaire's hand making raps back and forth on his manhood. 
Alexander Nabokov raised Damien's head for Damien to look at him. 
Their eyes met, as Damien's breathing accelerated as did his pleasure. 
The fact that Nabokov stared at him in silence with his indecipherable expression while masturbating him only accentuated his pleasure. 
When Nabokov kissed him, Damien couldn't contain himself. 
He came without warning, stroking Nabokov's hand with his sperm. 
Damien lowered his head, embarrassed for coming not only that quick but in Nabokov's hand, which prevented him from looking at the man behind his orgasm. 
He took a moment to find a more or less normal breathing and regain some of his thoughts while putting his half harden member back in his boxer, closing his fly as quickly as he could. 
Head down, Damien began to clean Nabokov's hand with his shirt, grateful that the billionaire still hadn't said a word. 
He gently took Nabokov's hand and slipped a piece of his t-shirt over the man's stained hand. 
While doing that, Damien could feel Nabokov's piercing gaze on him. 
When the cleaning was done, Damien suddenly turned without a glance directed at Nabokov and started walking towards the door leading to the exit of the room. 
He walked quickly and with his head down.
When he took the doorknob, Nabokov's voice stopped him from turning it.
"Damien," Nabokov said soothingly to him.
Damien remained immobilized a few seconds, without turning. 
He stared at the door like he was staring into space, consumed and elsewhere with his remorse.
"Good night, Alexander," Damien whispered, mentally absent.
Damien opened the door and got out, swearing to never see Nabokov again. 
A man who is a genuine danger for him and his three year relationship with his boyfriend.
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drawlfoy · 3 years
Text
Wonders of Ohio P.10
masterlist request guidelines
pairing: draco x reader
request: no way 
summary: american high school senior y/n y/l/n is in for a surprise when her british exchange student is a little...odd. 
warnings (AYO please pay attention to these this time it’s not just swearing): swearing, underage drinking (no i do not condone this ig), beginning elements of smut but def not too explicit, i think you can consider it dubcon ?? if both people are drunk bc i don’t think you can actually consent if youre drunk (plz rest assured tho they are both 18 hehe)
a/n: “hey where did this come from” yeah so hey yall ive never written such an intense scene before but i’ve spent so much time w these characters that i decided i kind of had to. there’s no like...real sex in this and i don’t imagine that i’d describe it in this much detail if i ever decided to write it but um.. anyways. i hope y’all enjoy. thanks for suffering for this long ! i hope i’ve made it worth it 
word count: 4k
music recs: 
cloud 9 -- beach bunny
the adults are talking -- the strokes
anything from the strokes tbh 
tags ! :) @gruffle1 @missmulti @cleopatera @hahaboop @accio-rogers @geeksareunique @eltanin-malfoy @war-sword @cams-lynn @itsivyberry @ayo-cowbelly @nerd-domland @yesnerdsblog @shizarianathania @evanstanfanatic @strawberriesonsummer @hariosborn @night-ving @straightzoinked @imintoodeeptostop @naiomimoonshard @jejegu @ophelia-enthusiast @alwaysbeanunknownfan @nearly-memories @litty-dumb @callieclearwater @malfoy-wife15 @charlenasaxen @belladaises @fiantomartell @writeandtranslate @erisdogwood @loveissupernatural @sycathorn-slush @big-galaxy-chaos
“Thank fucking god for the generator,” said Y/N as she flew around the kitchen, banging pots and pans together in her quest to make New Year’s Eve breakfast. Draco was sitting, unamused and completely silent, at the table. They’d been snowed in for a few days now with her parents nowhere near able to make it to the suburbs. For some reason, the entire city of Cincinnati had decided that the day before Christmas was the best time to schedule maintenance on literally every single one of their plows. “Can you imagine living here without heat? Or power? I’d die.”
Draco hummed in response. A glance over confirmed that he was deep in thought, a scarlet colored letter clutched firmly in his hand (hello, Nathaniel Hawthorne). Jealousy curdled inside of her as her thoughts turned to a dark place--it was Pansy, that Pansy Parkinson. 
Knowing her intuition, she was probably his grandmother or something. Why else would she have written so many letters?
After she finished plating all of the pancakes, she allowed herself to sneak a peek at the envelope. 
Astoria Greengrass
She frowned. Astoria? She’d never seen that name before. 
“What is this?” asked Draco as he picked up his fork to poke at the pancake on his plate.
Y/N’s jaw dropped. “Have you never had a pancake before?”
“A pancake?” He gave his plate a stern look. “It looks...like a soggy pastry.”
“Fuck you, I made that,” responded Y/N. “Try it with butter and maple syrup. And then tell me it’s a soggy pastry.”
She took out her fork and knife, demonstrating very clearly what she meant as she spread butter over the top of her pancake. She’d learned that Draco was too proud to ask what she meant when she introduced him to American/muggle foods--the last time he tried to deduce something himself, he ended up pouring ketchup over the top of his hamburger bun instead of actually putting it on the patty. 
A sense of satisfaction flowed into her as she saw him follow suit, spreading the warmed butter and dipping a cut piece in syrup. He raised it to his lips, taking a delicate bite.
“Americans really have this for breakfast?”
“Yeah…is something wrong?”
“Nothing. It’s just…” He grimaced. “This isn’t breakfast. This is dessert food.”
“God, your life must be so sad back home,” said Y/N. “What does your family make you eat--just straight unbuttered bread under the guise of it being a real breakfast food? Do they let you dip it in your unsweetened, weak tea if you’re good?”
He scoffed. “You have no idea how I live back at home.”
“And, judging from this conversation, I don’t have any desire to know any more.”
They ate in silence for the next few minutes. Y/N smiled when she saw Draco reach for a second pancake.
“Two desserts? Draco, I know it’s New Year’s, but don’t get too off the hinges,” she teased. 
He rolled his eyes, but she could tell her was fighting back a smile. “Speaking of which, how do you celebrate New Year’s?”
Draco looked up and met her eyes. “Sorry?”
“How do you celebrate tonight? With your family or your friends, or your...whatever.” The cold reality of the fact that she did not really know if he was dating someone back home set in.
“Oh, I don’t usually. It’s not really a big thing in the magical community,” he mused, unaware of her sudden panic.
“Well,” she said. “I always celebrate New Year’s with my friends. I didn’t tell you this sooner because I didn’t think that you were going to be here, but I’m kind of hosting a party here tonight. With anyone who can walk here.”
“Oh.” He took a sip of his tea. “Will it be like the Halloween party at Sylvia’s?”
“What do you mean?” She smiled. “Do you mean, will there be drinking?”
He shrugged in response, avoiding eye contact.
“There definitely can be,” she continued, her smile widening. “Last year we played this dumb drinking game over this card game--if you lost, you took a shot. It was fun. We could do that again.”
She settled down to eat, digging into two of the pancakes. They were really good--she wasn’t Gordon Ramsay by any means, but she did breakfast food pretty well. But at the mention of her friends, a realization hit her. “Oh. Draco?”
He raised an eyebrow and met her eyes.
“Um, can I tell you something?” 
He dipped his head in recognition while Y/N cleared her throat.
“So, um, I forgot about this,” she began, “but while you were gone, I kind of had to scramble to figure out what to tell everyone about why we were avoiding each other before you left. And why you left so suddenly and why I didn’t know.”
He was still watching her in curious silence. 
“So, I really didn’t want to slip up or say anything about...you.” Y/N paused to take a sip of her tea, deciding to not try to look at Draco again. “So I decided to tell Sylvia and Lizzy that I told you my feelings for you and you didn’t return them.”
A clang startled her enough to look up. Draco was staring, completely frozen. His fork had fallen into the syrup on his plate, handle and all.
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. 
“I mean, oh, fuck. Um.” She smiled at him, hoping it was going to distract from her audible stumble. “Obviously, I made it all up. I mean, both sides! But what’s important is that they bought it, and now they’re probably going to give you a little shit for not liking me ‘back’. So I’m sorry about that.”
“Made it all up, huh?” His voice had a surprisingly teasing lilt. 
“Yes, that is in fact what I said,” she responded, hoping that her cheeks weren’t as red as they felt hot.
“Is it really now?” 
“Draco!” 
He rolled his eyes. “I’ll be back. I need a new fork.”
“Just wipe off the handle of the one you have now--Draco, why are you getting up? Stop!”
To her disappointment, none of her friends were able to show. Sylvia and Lizzy made a concerted effort to try and convince their family to let them brave the walk, but once another flurry started up outside, it was hopeless. Her face turned pink whenever she thought about the fact that she hadn’t even needed to tell Draco the thing that made her slip up in the first place. 
Y/N, disappointed but not surprised, told Draco that she still wanted to celebrate, even if it was just with him. He’d snorted at this--asking her why she made it seem like such a burden--but once she produced a yellow glass bottle and a deck of cards and told him she bet that she was going to beat his sorry ass, he caved.
She started with a heavy lead, but once Draco learned the rules and strategies of the slightly convoluted Go Fish game, he proved to be a worthy match. They played until around 11:45 when the bottle was about 3/4 full and Y/N was feeling the pleasant warmth of being slightly intoxicated. Once she noticed the time, she threw her cards on the table. 
“Let’s watch the ball drop,” Y/N said with no further explanation, even when Draco looked to her for one. She grabbed the bottle and his hand, pulling him up the stairs to her room. The remote control for her TV was a struggle to find--it was all the way tucked back in her nightstand drawer--but thankfully the channel was already set. 
“You forgot the cups,” Draco said, staring down at the opened bottle held in his hand.
“You can get them if you want,” she managed.
“You should! You forgot them.”
“Too far,” she whined, flopping to lean back on her pillows while Draco followed suit. His hair smelled like peppermint. Without much more thought, she moved close enough that their shoulders were touching. He didn’t move away--instead, he lifted the bottle to his lips and took a drink directly. 
“Your New Year’s traditions are weird as fuck,” he murmured as he watched Savannah Guthrie on the screen. He didn’t have to speak very loud for her to hear him, and it seemed like he knew this.
“Oh, you haven’t even heard it all yet,” said Y/N. “We’ve got a tradition to kiss someone going into the New Year. New Year’s kiss, I guess. I’m sure you can imagine the kind of drama that creates.”
“What d’you mean?”
“You don’t have to be dating to kiss someone, sometimes people just...do it. As friends.” Y/N reached over to the bottle and took a swig herself, feeling the warmth trickle down her throat.
“Take it easy,” he tutted, pulling the bottle away from her before taking another drink himself. 
“Hey! Says you!”
“Because I can actually hold my liquor well,” he teased, giving her a shove.
“The fuck are you talking about?”
“You just kept getting worse and worse at whatever that game was,” he told her matter-of-factly.
“Give it here,” she said, reaching across his chest to where he was holding the bottle, out and above his head. She hoped he couldn’t tell how much this side of him filled her with glee. “That’s not fair!”
“Not fair, huh?” He raised an eyebrow and met her eyes as he held it up even further into the air. His voice was startlingly low. “So what are you gonna do about it?”
Before she could muster up a response, the TV began playing the audio for the New Year’s Countdown.
10!
Y/N wasn’t sure if she was supposed to answer--or if he was just...flirting?
9!
He managed to set the bottle on her nightstand without taking his eyes off of her.
8!
The hand she had used to reach across him with was now pressed into his side of the bed, supporting her as she hovered over him.
7!
Without moving any part of her body, she dared to glance at his parted lips.
6!
Maybe telling him about the kiss tradition was a stupid idea.
5!
His hand, warm and soft,  reached up to brush a piece of hair away from her cheekbone. 
4! 
His fingers lingered on the outline of her jaw.
3!
2!
1!
He was kissing her before the cheers from the TV even had the chance to bounce around the room, both hands cupping her face and pulling her in so desperately that it took her breath away.
Her hands found his shoulders, then the back of his neck, and then, eventually his hair. It was just as soft as she imagined it to be. They started out innocently enough--closed mouth kisses and only their hands touching each other above the shoulders--but once she tugged on his hair (mostly by accident) something...shifted. 
Suddenly he was on top of her, and suddenly her leg was wrapped around him as he tilted his head, deepening the kiss. It occurred to her that this was no longer just a New Year’s kiss. He tasted of lemon and sugar--and was notably better at what he was doing than any of the people she’d kissed before. Or maybe it was the alcohol clouding her judgement. Regardless, she liked whatever was going on. His hands had drifted from her face to her neck to her hair to her shoulder, gently tracing the outline of her bra strap. She brushed her hand down his chest, pulling gently at the collar on his shirt. Only when his leg pressed up into her and her breath hitched did she realize the weight of their situation.
The way he pulled away to hover over her signaled that he’d had the same revelation, his eyes wide as he stared down at her. “Um…”
“Yeah?” Dread crept into her despite the pleasant haze she was in. 
He swallowed, hard. “I can’t believe I did that.”
Draco was on the other side of the bed in seconds, wringing his hands and keeping his eyes fixed on her floor. “Oh, my god, I can’t believe I did that. I’m sorry. I’m drunk and I’m not thinking straight. I’m so sorry.”
“Is something wrong?” She didn’t know if he wanted her to touch him, but she wanted so badly to place a steadying hand on his shoulder. “Did you not want...it?”
He scoffed and turned his gaze up to the ceiling. “I had too much to drink. I’m sorry.”
“Oh.” Y/N felt the blood drain from her face as she fell back on the bed.
That’s all it was. A drunken mistake. 
Tears pricked at her eyes as she surveyed her options. Despite the fact that she was drunk off her ass, she knew she couldn’t just tell him to leave without making her feelings clear. She never explicitly told him that she wanted him and it wasn’t like she moaned his name or anything--thank god--but what other option did she have? She didn’t want to cry in front of him, and if he stayed in her room any longer he would without a doubt witness her alcohol induced cry fest. 
NBC finally switched to ads, and Y/N granted herself permission to mourn the fact that Flo from Progressive would forever be ruined for her. 
It was dark enough for her to quickly reach up and wipe her eyes undetected, granting her enough confidence to sit up and look at him directly. “You don’t get to just...kiss me like that. I hope you know that.”
“I know,” he said. His hands were clasped tightly together and rested on his nose. “Fuck. Of course I know.”
“But you can tell me you meant it to be just as friends,” she told him, hoping he couldn’t see how hard she was fighting back a new wave of tears. 
“As friends,” he repeated, his tone flat. 
“As friends,” she said. 
“I don’t think either of us are daft enough to believe that.” 
Her stomach twisted. “What do you mean?”
“Maybe things are different in America, but I don’t see you doing that sort of thing with Lizzy.”
“We can forget about this. It’s fine. I know you regret it.”
He exhaled, his breath long and shaky. “I didn’t stop because I regretted it.”
“Then why did you?”
“Because…”
“Is it because I’m a muggle?” His silence was everything she needed for an answer. “Okay. I had a feeling.”
“Y/N, it’s not like...I don’t know how to explain it.” He still wouldn’t make eye contact with her. “I just don’t know what to do.”
“About what?” 
“About this!” he said, dramatically gesturing to her. “About everything!”
“I don’t understand.” The tears began pricking in the corners of her eyes again despite her best efforts. 
Draco finally looked at her. She was shocked by how genuinely distressed he looked--the last time he looked at her like this, she’d been laying on the ground outside of the antique sore. “I don’t expect you to.”
His tone was low, careful. He was holding back.
“Can you just tell me how you feel about me, then? Just so I know?”
“It’s not that--” He stopped himself, sucking in another breath before he continued. “I shouldn’t. It’s not right of me.” He groaned, flopping onto his back and covering his face. “This wasn’t supposed to happen.”
“Hey,” Y/N said, reaching out to awkwardly pat his shoulder. “I meant it when I said that we could just forget about it. We’re friends, Draco. Just friends. I know you didn’t mean it. Let’s just pretend this never happened, ok?”
He was quiet for a bit before responding. “Did you...want me to kiss you? Did I make you uncomfortable?”
“Uncomfortable?”
“As in, did you want me to stop?”
“Oh.” Y/N cracked her knuckles. “You didn’t violate me if you’re asking to gauge how guilty you should be.” 
“I’m glad to hear that, but that’s not why I’m asking.”
“Okay,” she said simply. He was still laying in her bed, and she hated the fact that her bed was going to smell like him until she washed everything. 
“So?” He raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t answer.”
“We’re friends, Draco.” She sent him a weak smile as she repeated her previous sentiment. “I trust you, so you didn’t make me uncomfortable.” 
She was aware of the fact that her sentence didn’t exactly track, but she wasn’t particularly concerned with the literary quality of her speech.
“That still doesn’t answer my other question.”
“I…” She felt her throat dry up. “I want--I wanted you to kiss me. I’ve wanted you to kiss me for a while now.” 
At this, he finally sat up and looked her in the eyes. She thought she could see the briefest glint of relief pass over his face before he managed to rein it back to a neutral expression.
“Did you want to kiss me?”
“I was the one who kissed you, not the other way around, yeah?”
“That still doesn’t answer my question,” she snipped, hoping he caught on to her mocking. She’d missed sparring with him. 
“Yes, I kissed you because I wanted to, not for some weird ulterior motive,” he responded, rolling his eyes despite the fact that his cheeks were clearly very pink, even in her dimly lit room. “Though I agree it’s best if we just stayed friends.”
“Yeah.” She felt her face fall, but she managed to catch it before she looked too devastated. “It’s all water under the bridge. Now we know not to drink together again.”
“That too.” He shifted, clearing his throat before making eye contact with her again with an uncharacteristically soft expression. “But the damage is already done, I suppose?”
“I suppose,” she echoed. “You wanted to kiss me? Actually?”
“Should we really talk about this? After what we just said about staying friends?”
“We’re going to feel regret tomorrow morning no matter what we do now, “ said Y/N. “Might as well.”
He smiled one of his rare smiles--the ones where his eyes went all soft and he dipped his head to hide it. “Yes. I really do. Want to kiss you, that is.”
“I really want you to kiss me,” she blurted out before slapping her hand over her mouth in shock. “Fuck. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that out loud.” 
His smile morphed into more of a smirk as he crept closer, his hand resting on top of her knee. “So can I do it again?”
“Draco…” She sighed.
“The damage is already done,” he repeated as he reached his hand up to brush a lock of her hair behind her ear, his fingers dragging down her neck. The smug look that formed on his face after she drew a quick breath in confirmed that he knew what he was doing, that fucker. “You said it yourself--we’re just friends.”
“I’m going to hate myself in the morning if I say yes.”
 Draco’s hand drifted over her jaw, his thumb pausing to trace over her bottom lip. “You can hate me instead.” 
This time, it didn’t surprise her so much when he leaned in. He was notably less desperate, taking time to draw breaths in between kisses and lacing his fingers through hers, squeezing. Once he seemed satisfied, he lifted her chin and brushed the hair away from her neck, kissing down from her jaw to her collarbone. She shivered, and he drew her closer by wrapping his arms around her until she was sitting on his lap.
“Wow, you’re such a good friend, Draco,” she managed to joke. She could feel the smirk that formed on his lips as it passed over her clavicle.
 “Shut up.” His teeth grazed over her delicate skin before he sucked, eliciting a gasp from her. She could feel him smile again. 
His hands teased the bottom hemline of her sweater, his fingers tangling in the fabric but not moving it. She sucked in a breath, feeling his hands ghost over her skin. 
“Are you okay with…”
“Yes!” The answer came out much quicker than she would’ve liked, but the grin on Draco’s face made it completely worth the momentary embarrassment as he helped her out of the thick cable-knit sweater. “Now is your chance to dote on me and tell me how beautiful I am. As a friend, of course.”
“You stole the words right out of my mouth,” he said. He looked like he was positively glowing as she smiled and leaned in to kiss him, slow and deep. His hands found her back and hesitated over her bra clasp.
Before he had a chance to do anything, Y/N started fiddling with the buttons on his white shirt, successfully undoing the first two before she noticed that Draco had frozen completely.
“Is something wrong?”
“Kind of,” he said. “Maybe...not now, okay?”
“I had a feeling that was too much,” she admitted, reaching for her top before realizing he’d tossed it across her bedroom floor and suddenly feeling very exposed.
“It’s not that…” he said, trailing off. “I just...should probably tell you some things before my shirt comes off. And I don’t think tonight is the best time for that.”
“Oh.” Y/N tried to make herself look like she understood whatever he was on about. “Yeah, of course. Oh! Is it about that tattoo you tried to gaslight me into believing didn’t exist?”
“Y/N!” he exclaimed. “I didn’t gaslight you!”
“Here you go again,” she huffed. “I rest my case.” 
“And I am not getting into that now,” he said. “I didn’t want to talk about it for very good reason.” 
She reached up to his shoulders, dragging her fingertips over his collarbones and watching as he gazed up at her. “That’s okay. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”
The corners of his lips turned up at this, and she took the opportunity to press a chaste kiss on the edge of his mouth. “I think we should go to sleep. We have enough material to regret for tomorrow at this point. Any more and I think we’ll be getting greedy, so--”
Draco cut her off with one last kiss, his fingers splayed out across her back, pulling her impossibly close before finally releasing her.
“Agreed.” He let out a sigh before sliding her off him and standing up to grab her runaway sweater. “Do you want to sleep in this? Or do you want me to get you something else from your dresser while I’m up?”
“Um…” She was frozen at the prospect of him watching her change clothes. “Probably something else. Top left drawer--just pick whatever.”
He sifted through her piles of random T-shirts before settling on one with the UChicago logo and tossing it to her. 
Y/N pulled it over her head, grateful for the fact that he wasn’t staring at her with only a black lace bra that barely did its job. 
“So, uh, I think I should probably go then,” he said. 
She fought the urge to ask him to stay. “Yeah, that’d be best.”
His mouth opened like he was about to say something, but he closed it and frowned. “So I guess this is goodnight.”
“Goodnight, Draco,” she replied. “I’ll look forward to agonizing over this in the morning.”
Once the sounds of his footsteps heading down the hall faded, she finally allowed herself to flop back onto her now Draco-scented sheets.
What the fuck just happened.
final a/n: hellooooooo ! it finally happened! i hope this didn’t seem rushed or unnatural to you guys but like. it’s been over 30k words and i thought you guys deserved something. yes i am going to be leaning into the whole “we’re just friends” trope while definitely not being just friends. yes i am going to drag astoria into this i’m excited i hope yall enjoyed
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