#And I was like�� that pretty much takes up the majority of the cost of the outfit what.
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And that’s a wrap for Comic Con 2024! Ha, it was a lot of fun, but I really enjoyed dressing up as Mondo today! I even had a couple people recognize him! And a few others just liked the hair, one of whom asked how long it took me to get my hair like that, which tells me that at least it looks natural enough for people to mistake it as my actual hair, ha.
Overall, Comic Con was cool! On Thursday, I attended a live podcast recording for Braving the Elements, which is an Avatar the Last Airbender podcast hosted by Janet Varney and Dante Bosco (the voices of Korra and Zuko, respectively), and I actually got a trivia question right and I should (hopefully…) get an email from them soon to get a prize for answering the question right. If not… oh well. At least I’ll be featured briefly on the podcast answering trivia correctly, even though I usually suck at trivia, ha.
The rest of the days were a bit more meh, but I still had fun. I won a Pokeball ornament from a Hallmark panel, since I knew how many Squirtles were in the Squirtle Squad, aha. Which leaves my trivia score 2 for 2 at the moment.😅 I also got a free shirt and scarf for the upcoming Yakuza live action show, which was neat. I’ve never played Yakuza, but my brother has, so I was able to give him the shirt at least.
Still, while Comic Con was fun, I’m definitely glad it’s over so I can go home and clean up from my frantic cosplay creating the last several weeks, oof.
Also! On the first day I dressed at Taka, but since I was by myself I only have the one photo my dad was able to quickly take of me before he had to drive off and a quick selfie I took in the car.
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orcelito · 3 months ago
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Considering the. Ahem. Ways this year has gone, I've not been thinking about it all that much, but. I did start this year with the motto of Year Of Unfucking My Life. With a few goals involved in that.
I got an official adhd diagnosis, as well as a diagnosis for PCOS. Other diagnoses in progress. Gotten adhd meds and birth control to regulate periods. I've gone back to school and I'm keeping up with it better than ever before. I've even been working on practicing driving, something I've been largely neglecting since I first got my driving permit, um... 11 years ago...
I just need to actually Get my license. And I need to get it before the end of the year. If I can accomplish that, then I'll say the Year Of Unfucking My Life was successful.
#speculation nation#i had some pretty major negative And positive influences for this goal of mine.#primary negative influence of course being my dad abruptly dying.#but that also led to the primary positive influence of the life insurance payout that's letting me just focus on school for my final year.#it's like a monkey's paw curl kind of moment. i got a genuinely astounding amount of money#more than enough to live off for a year+ and pay off the rest of my schooling.#with this i have finally exited the purgatory of part time school full time work to pay my way through school#a setup that led to endless stress (both physically and mentally) and suffering grades.#failing some classes and taking longer bc part time Anyways. locking me into years and years of this perpetual fucking Hell.#ive escaped it. school is so so so much more manageable when i dont have to work a job. im actually keeping up with my assignments.#for once theres no uncertainty about passing any of my classes. i Will pass them all. and i expect As in most if not all of them.#it's been fucking Amazing. everything i couldve wanted. and it came with the low low cost of losing my father when i was only 26.#... 'low' being sarcastic here of course. he was the 2nd worst person i couldve lost in my life. second only to my sister.#the 2nd worst grief i will Ever experience. bc he was my Good parent. hes the very reason i have a future at All.#and losing him fucked me up Severely. im still working on recovering. i kind of figure i always Will be.#thank god id already been taking spring semester off bc that would've been Horrible to go thru while in school.#i honestly probably would've just withdrawn from the semester. theres no Way id have kept up with it#given how damned BUSY those first few weeks after were. between funeral prep and inventorying and packing up his house.#so fucking much involved in settling an estate. and im the lucky one in that my sister's been handling all the legal shit.#so i simultaneously was dealt one of the most severe blows i ever Will be dealt#while also being given probably the biggest boost i'll ever get in my life.#if everything goes well with graduating and getting an IT job then i'll never want for money again.#considering there was a time early last year when i got as low as literally $7 in my bank account. this is a pretty big deal.#it's just... strange. the ways things go in life. this has been a very strange year for me.#just doing my best to use this boost to the best of my ability. even if it feels like im taking advantage of his death.#it's what he wouldve wanted me to do.
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colleendoran · 11 months ago
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Great Big Good Omens Graphic Novel Update
AKA A Visit From Bildad the Shuhite.
The past year or so has been one long visit from this guy, whereupon he smiteth my goats and burneth my crops, woe unto the woeful cartoonist.
Gaze upon the horror of Bildad the Shuhite.
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You kind of have to be a Good Omens fan to get this joke, but trust me, it's hilarious.
Anyway, as a long time Good Omens novel fan, you may imagine how thrilled I was to get picked to adapt the graphic novel.
 Go me!  
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This is quite a task, I have to say, especially since I was originally going to just draw (and color) it, but I ended up writing the adaptation as well. Tricky to fit a 400 page novel into a 160-ish page graphic novel, especially when so much of the humor is dependent on the language, and not necessarily on the visuals.
Not complainin', just sayin'.
Anyway, I started out the gate like a herd of turtles, because  right away I got COVID which knocked me on my butt. 
And COVID brain fog? That's a thing. I already struggle with brain fog due to autoimmune disease, and COVID made it worse.
Not complainin' just sayin'.
This set a few of the assignments on my plate back, which pushed starting Good Omens back. 
But hey, big fat lead time! No worries!
Then my computer crawled toward the grave.
My trusty MAC Pro Tower was nearly 15 years old when its sturdy heart ground to a near-halt with daily crashes. I finally got around to doing some diagnostics; some of its little brain actions were at 5% functionality. I had no reliable backups.
There are so many issues with getting a new computer when you haven't had a new computer or peripherals in nearly fifteen years and all of your software, including your Photoshop program is fifteen years old.
At the time, I was still on rural internet...which means dial-up speed.
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Whatever you have for internet in the city, roll that clock back to about 2001.
That's what I had. I not only had to replace almost all of my hardware but I had to load and update all programs at dial-up speed.
Welcome to my gigabyte hell.
The entire process of replacing the equipment and programs took weeks and then I had to relearn all the software.
All of this was super expensive in terms of money and time cost.
But I was not daunted! Nosirree!
I still had a huge lead time! I can do anything! I have an iron will!
And boy, howdy, I was going to need it.
At about the same time, a big fatcat quadrillionaire client who had hired me years ago to develop a big, major transmedia project for which I was paid almost entirely in stock, went bankrupt leaving everyone holding the bag, and taking a huge chunk of my future retirement fund with it.
I wrote a very snarky almost hilarious Patreon post about it, but am not entirely in a position to speak freely because I don't want to get sued. Even though I had to go to court over it, (and I had to do that over Zoom at dial-up speed,) I'm pretty sure I'll never get anything out of this drama, and neither will anyone else involved, except millionaire dude and his buddies who all walked away with huge multi-million dollar bonuses weeks before they declared bankruptcy, all the while claiming they would not declare bankruptcy.
Even the accountant got $250,000 a month to shut down the business, while creators got nothing.
That in itself was enough drama for the year, but we were only at February by that point, and with all those months left, 2023 had a lot more to throw at me.
Fresh from my return from my Society of Illustrators show, and a lovely time at MOCCA, it was time to face practical medical issues, health updates, screening, and the like. I did my adult duty and then went back to work hoping for no news, but still had a weird feeling there would be news.
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I know everyone says that, but I mean it. I had a bad feeling.
Then there was news.
I was called back for tests and more tests. This took weeks. The ubiquitous biopsy looked, even to me staring at the screen in real time, like bad news. 
It also hurt like a mofo after the anesthesia wore off. I wasn't expecting that.
Then I got the official bad news.
Cancer which runs in my family finally got me. Frankly, I was surprised I didn't get it sooner.
Stage 0, and treatment would likely be fast and complication-free. Face the peril, get it over with, and get back to work. 
I requested surgery months in the future so I could finish Good Omens first, but my doc convinced me the risk of waiting was too great. Get it done now.
"You're really healthy," my doc said. Despite an auto-immune issue which plagues me, I am way healthier than the average schmoe of late middle age. She informed me I would not even need any chemo or radiation if I took care of this now.
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So I canceled my appearance at San Diego Comic Con. I did not inform the Good Omens team of my issues right away, thinking this would not interfere with my work schedule, but I did contact my agent to inform her of the issue. I also contacted a lawyer to rewrite my will and make sure the team had access to my digital files in case there were complications.
Then I got back to work, and hoped for the best.
Eff this guy.
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Before I could even plant my carcass on the surgery table, I got a massive case of ocular shingles.
I didn't even know there was such a thing. 
There I was, minding my own business. I go to bed one night with a scratchy eye, and by 4 PM the next day, I was in the emergency room being told if I didn't get immediate specialist treatment, I was in big trouble.
I got transferred to another hospital and got all the scary details, with the extra horrid news that I could not possibly have cancer surgery until I was free of shingles, and if I did not follow a rather brutal treatment procedure - which meant super-painful  eye drops every half hour, twenty-four hours a day and daily hospital treatment - I could lose the eye entirely, or be blinded, or best case scenario, get permanent eye damage.
What was even funnier (yeah, hilarity) is the drops are so toxic if you don't use the medication just right, you can go blind anyway.
Hi Ho.
Ulcer is on the right. That big green blob.
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I had just finished telling my cancer surgeon I did not even really care about getting cancer, was happy it was just stage zero, had no issues with scarring, wanted no reconstruction, all I cared about was my work. 
Just cut it out and get me back to work.
And now I wondered if I was going to lose my ability to work anyway.
Shingles often accompanies cancer because of the stress on the immune system, and yeah, it's not pretty. This is me looking like all heck after I started to get better.
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The first couple of weeks were pretty demoralizing as I expected a straight trajectory to wellness. But it was up and down all the way. 
Some days I could not see out of either eye at all. The swelling was so bad that I had to reach around to my good eye to prop the lid open. Light sensitivity made seeing out of either eye almost impossible. Outdoors, even with sunglasses, I had to be led around by the hand.
I had an amazing doctor. I meticulously followed his instructions, and I think he was surprised I did. The treatment is really difficult, and if you don't do it just right no matter how painful it gets, you will be sorry. 
To my amazement, after about a month, my doctor informed me I had no vision loss in the eye at all. "This never happens," he said.
I'd spent a couple of weeks there trying to learn to draw in the near-dark with one eye, and in the end, I got all my sight back.
I could no longer wear contact lenses (I don't really wear them anyway, unless I'm going to the movies,) would need hard core sun protection for awhile, and the neuralgia and sun sensitivity were likely to linger. But I could get back to work.
I have never been more grateful in my life.
Neuralgia sucks, by the way, I'm still dealing with it months later.
Anyway, I decided to finally go ahead and tell the Good Omens team what was going on, especially since this was all happening around the time the Kickstarter was gearing up.
Now that I was sure I'd passed the eye peril, and my surgery for Stage 0 was going to be no big deal, I figured all was a go. I was still pretty uncomfortable and weak, and my ideal deadline was blown, but with the book not coming out for more than a year, all would be OK. I quit a bunch of jobs I had lined up to start after Good Omens, since the project was going to run far longer than I'd planned.
Everybody on the team was super-nice, and I was pretty optimistic at this time. But work was going pretty slow during, as you may imagine.
But again...lots of lead time still left, go me.
Then I finally got my surgery.
Which was not as happy an experience as I had been hoping for.
My family said the doc came out of the operating room looking like she'd been pulled backwards through a pipe, She informed them the tumor which looked tiny on the scan was "...huge and her insides are a mess."
Which was super not fun news.
Eff this guy.
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The tumor was hiding behind some dense tissue and cysts. After more tests, it was determined I'd need another surgery and was going to have to get further treatments after all.
The biopsy had been really painful, but the discomfort was gone after about a week, so no biggee. The second surgery was, weirdly, not as painful as the biopsy, but the fatigue was big time.
By then, the Good Omens Kickstarter had about run its course, and the record-breaker was both gratifying and a source of immense social pressure.
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I'd already turned most of my social media over to an assistant, and I'm glad I did.
But the next surgery was what really kicked me on my keister.
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All in all, they took out an area the size of a baseball. It was  hard to move and wiped me out for weeks and weeks. I could not take care of myself. I'd begun losing hair by this time anyway, and finally just lopped it off since it was too heavy for me to care for myself. The cut hides the bald spots pretty well.
After about a month, I got the go-ahead to travel to my show at the San Diego Comic Con Museum (which is running until the first week of April, BTW). I was very happy I had enough energy to do it. But as soon as I got back, I had to return to treatment.
Since I live way out in the country, going into the city to various hospitals and pharmacies was a real challenge. I made more than 100 trips last year, and a drive to the compounding pharmacy which produced the specialist eye medicine I could not get anywhere else was six hours alone.
Naturally, I wasn't getting anything done during this time.
But at least my main hospital is super swank.
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The oncology treatment went smoothly, until it didn't. The feels don't hit you until the end. By then I was flattened.
So flattened that I was too weak to control myself, fell over, and smashed my face into some equipment.
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Nearly tore off my damn nostril.
Eff this guy.
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Anyway, it was a bad year.
Here's what went right.
I have a good health insurance policy. The final tally on my health care costs ended up being about $150,000. I paid about 18% of that, including insurance. I had a high deductible and some experimental medicine insurance didn't cover. I had savings,  enough to cover the months I wasn't working, and my Patreon is also very supportive. So you didn't see me running a Gofundme or anything.
Thanks to everyone who ever bought one of my books.
No, none of that money was Good Omens Kickstarter money. I won't get most of my pay on that for months, which is just as well because it kept my taxes lower last year when I needed a break.
So, yay.
My nose is nearly healed. I opted out of plastic surgery, and it just sealed up by itself. I'll never be ready for my closeup, but who the hell cares.
I got to ring the bell.
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I had a very, VERY hard time getting back to work, especially with regard to focus and concentration. My work hours dropped by over 2/3. I was so fractured and weak, time kept slipping away while I sat in the studio like a zombie. Most of the last six months were a wash.
I assumed focus issues were due (in part) to stress, so sought counseling. This seemed like a good idea at first, but when the counselor asked me to detail my issues with anxiety, I spent two weeks doing just that and getting way more anxious, which was not helpful.
After that I went EFF THIS NOISE, I want practical tools, not touchy feelies (no judgment on people who need touchy-feelies, I need a pragmatic solution and I need it now,) so tried using the body doubling focus group technique for concentration and deep work.
Within two weeks, I returned to normal work hours.
I got rural broadband, jumping me from dial up speed to 1 GB per second.
It's a miracle.
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Massive doses of Vitamin D3 and K2. Yay.
The new computer works great.
The Kickstarter did so well, we got to expand the graphic novel to 200 pages. Double yay.
I'm running late, but everyone on the Good Omens team is super supportive. I don't know if I am going to make the book late or not, but if I do, well, it surely wasn't on purpose, and it won't be super late anyway. I still have months of lead time left.
I used to be something of a social media addict, but now I hardly ever even look at it, haven't been directly on some sites in over a year, and no longer miss it. It used to seem important and now doesn't.
More time for real life.
While I think the last year aged me about twenty years, I actually like me better with short hair. I'm keeping it.
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OK. Rough year. 
Not complainin', just sayin'.
Back to work on The Book.
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And only a day left to vote for Good Omens, Neil Gaiman, and Sandman in the Comicscene Awards. Thanks. 
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carmenberzattosgf · 4 months ago
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https://www.tumblr.com/threadbaresweater/759425492071956480/dick-so-good-you-cant-make-eye-contact-with-him?source=share
this with carmy = 🚑🚑🚑🚨🚨🚨💥💥💥💥💣💣💣💣💣
- 🐝
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Please please please this with Carmy while you have a secret fuck buddies thing going on with him. None of the staff at the restaurant has any idea about it.
After a terrible, terrible day at the restaurant, Carmy invites you over to his place, which really only means one thing; he wants to let his frustration out by fucking you.
Carmen does just that. He can't even wait long enough to get you into his bedroom. The second you're in through the door he kisses you roughly, already reaching down to undo the button of your pants. You gasp into his mouth when his hand slips into the waistband of your underwear.
“Already soaked, huh?” He chuckles. Carmy removes his hand quickly, though, pushing your pants and underwear down to your ankles. He directs you to lay back on his couch while he takes off his shirt, and kicks off his slacks. You prop yourself up in your forearms to look at Carmen. His eyes are blown with desire. He can’t help but palm himself over his boxers to relieve some pressure.
“You good with this?” he asks, voice free of any judgement. Carmy always checks before he goes too far.
“I’m here aren’t I?” You see the way he’s looking at you, so you widen your legs. “Please, Carm.”
“Flip over. Hands and knees,” he commands in a tone much similar to that he uses in the kitchen.
“Yes, chef,” you respond with a grin before flipping over onto your stomach. You rest your chest on the couch cushion, letting you sink into a deep arch.
A low groan leaves his throat at the way you’ve arched your back for him. You’re completely exposed, arousal dripping down your thighs. “Holy shit—such a fucking slut sometimes,” he mumbles. His hands trace over the skin of your waist.
“What can I say? You bring it out in me—fuck!” You can’t finish your thought because Carmy thrusts into you in the middle of your sentence.
His pace is the opposite of gentle. Carmen’s hips pound into you roughly, sending a loud sound of skin against skin across the room. He has one hand holding onto your waist in a bruising grip, while the other rests on the small of your back. He presses down with the palm of his hand to keep you in a deep arch.
The way his cock hits inside of you from this position makes your head spin. Every time he bottoms out, an uncontrolled whine leaves your mouth. “Carm—fuck, fuck, fuck.”
“That’s it—take it like a good girl f’me,” he spits out. “So pretty falling apart on my cock. What do you think the staff would think if they knew I had you like this? That my cock makes you this brainless?”
So that night, Carmy fucks you on his couch, then his bed, before finally eating you out while you sit on the bathroom counter. You didn’t think you would be able to walk into work the next morning, but you manage.
You spend the majority of the day avoiding eye contact with Carmy at all costs. Your cheeks flush when he passes by you, placing his hand on the small of your back so he can squeeze past you. The placement of his hand reminds you of how you were on the couch last night. You gasp softly at the touch.
Carmy pauses, feeling you tense up. When he looks at your blushing face, though, he realizes the issue. He leans down, lips right by your ear as he speaks. “Don’t get shy on me now, not with how you were acting last night.” He chuckles lowly into your ear, amused by how easy it is to get a rise out of you.
It was going to be a very long day at work.
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zyogod · 7 months ago
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The Part-timer
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Tags: rough sex, public sex , female idol x you, other universe story , story building
Starring: Newjeans Pham Hanni
3,631 words
Part-time barista in the morning, Major music student. Pham Hanni has a full life and doesn't care about it
Hanni would smile politely as she gets yelled at and scolded by her boss in the cafe. That's fine, she has a punching bag at home where she can take out her stress. The only reason she can't seem to quit this job is because it's the only place where she can see and talk to you.
"Gonna order your usual?" She asked, gazing at you with her almond eyes.
"My usual order? You means your pretty smile?" I try to flirt with her
"You wish" she chuckled as she leaned against the counter, crossing her arms as she gave that little smile of hers. She was wearing a simple gray blouse, tucked into her black jeans. Although it was too hot to be wearing anything thick, her usual uniform of work consisted mostly of layers of clothing that didn't really show off her figure.
"Although i never see you in casual revealing clothes hanni, hopefully i can see what underneath that blouse" Then i giggle to make it not too obvious
Her eyes narrowed as she saw your giggling reaction, she knows what you really want to see. Hanni leaned forward as she reached her bottom part of her blouse, and lift off her blouse, revealing her small waist and bit of her toned abs under that blouse like you imagined she would
"You happy with what you see, handsome?" She asked, her hands rested on her hips.
"Maybe if you lift that blouse little further i would really appreciate that" I said to her while looking around to make sure only both of us inside the cafe.
Hanni raised her eyebrows as she smirked.
"That desperate, huh?" She chuckled and she slowly lifted her gray blouse, letting you have a good look at her curves B cups sized pair of boobs.
I just stared at it mesmerized "quite small but looks nice and pliable" I said with a little laugh
Hanni lowered her gray shirt and stretched her right hand towards me and tried to hit me even though she missed "Shibal! It's good that I showed you, you're insulting my cute breasts" she yelled at me.
I stepped back and said, "calm down, don't get mad, I was just joking." Hanni pouted her mouth and glared at me, like I had gone too far in teasing her, "okay okay, I'll make it up to you" I said to comfort her.
Hanni took a deep breath as you stepped back, the blush on her cheeks grew even more red, she's clearly a little embarrassed by your teasing
"You better make it up to me" she said in a half-joking way. After all, she did kind of like the way you were looking at her.
I said all my orders to hanni and went to the outdoor area of the cafe so that I could enjoy my order later while smoking.
Hanni nodded as you placed your order and went outside to smoke. She got to work making your order, pouring the coffee into the cup and adding the cream and sugar just the way you like it. She also put a small slice of cake on the saucer to accompany your coffee.
~
A few minutes later, Hanni came outside to deliver your order, setting it down in front of you with a smile.
"So can i order you to be with me too, if that's can be on the bills?" smiling looking at her
Hanni's cheeks flushed as she heard your pick-up line, she wasn't expecting that. She couldn't help but chuckle as she raised her eyebrows, pretending to think.
"Hm.. I don't know.. Do you have enough money to pay for me?" she asked playfully, crossing her arms as she looked at you with a teasing smile
looking at her with little smirk
"How much Pham hanni service cost just only for having chit chat for loyal customer like me?"
Hanni pretended to think for a moment, tapping her chin with her finger.
"Well, as a special offer for my most loyal customer, I think a small donation of 20 dollars will suffice for some chit chat." She said with a mischievous smile, holding her hand out.
"How if i wanted more? There's any extra charge?" trying to following her games
"Oh, you're a very greedy customer, I see" she chuckled. She pretended to think again and then spoke up with a suggestive smile.
"I suppose if you want a little extra, I could indulge you. How much more are you willing to pay?"
In truth, Hanni actually doesn't plan on taking any money from you. She just wants to play along and see where this could go.
"Depends on how much i can get from those small Vietnamese petite body" I flirted with her more boldly.
As you spoke, Hanni's cheeks flushed a deeper shade of red, her heart racing from your words. She couldn't believe how boldly you're flirting with her.
"You're quite daring, aren't you?" She asked with a smirk, trying to retain her confident demeanor.
"But I'm afraid I'm not for sale. But if you come back tomorrow, perhaps I'll give you something special for free" she teased as she turned on her heels and walked back inside with a little wiggle in her step
scoffing after hearing her offers
"Tomorrow? That's too long, how about after your shift ended?"
Hanni giggled at your impatience, she's finding this little game quite amusing.
"Now you want to get special service outside of my shift? I'm not sure if you can afford that, handsome" she teased, leaning her back on the counter with her arms crossed, giving you a smirk.
"Perhaps there's another way you can convince me?".
Pointing out the huge bulge in my pants to her "pretty good deal? Or do you still want another bonus?"
Hanni’s eyes widened as she caught a glimpse of your bulge, feeling her cheeks burn even more red as she tried not to look down again.
"You're not playing fair, you know that?" She said in a half-jesting, half-serious tone as she bit her lip, her heart racing.
"I can't just do what you tell me to, I'm at work."
"How much your payment in this cafe for a day?" I ask her, this is maybe too much but it will be never hurt anyone to try it.
Hanni sighed as she knew she wouldn't be able to hide her wage from you.
"It's about 20 dollars daily" she said softly, feeling a bit embarrassed as she knew that’s not a high wage
"And before you say anything, no, I can't give you special services outside of my work hours for 20 dollars a day" she added with a small huff.
she's really played well to be hard to get out of sudden "how about 200 dollars for a night?"
Hanni's breath hitched at the number you said, 200 dollars is a lot more than what she makes for a days work at the cafe.
"200? That is a huge amount" she said softly, contemplating. She couldn’t deny that she’s pretty low on money, not knowing if she’ll be able to pay for her rent by next month…
"You know maybe that's will be an easy money for university students like you" I smile mischievously.
Hanni's eyes flickered with a mix of surprise and uncertainty at your offer. She knew that she needed the extra money, but she was conflicted about accepting this offer.
"I…I don't know about this, you can't just offer me such a high amount in exchange for-" she trailed off, her cheeks flushing as she thought about what implications that would carry.
Before she's done with her words i cut her down "im paying for your dinner latter" i can't let her leaving the bait.
Hanni's eyes widened again as you cut her mid-sentence, she wasn't expecting you to counter her worries like that. She was torn between her morals and the temptation of the money you're offering.
"So wait, are you really asking me to-" she began to ask, her heart pounding in her chest.
She thought about it a little more, weighing her options. She knew that this money could be an solution to her financial troubles and pay her college tuition.
"Well, you're treating me to dinner as well? Where are we eating? Something fancy, I hope." She finally said, a small mischievous smile playing on her lips.
"Which restaurant that college student favorite just say it" actually i don't know if she trying to push her luck or not, but who cares? It's good bargaining for me after all.
"Hoho, are you spoiling me now?" She chuckled as she put a finger on her chin, pretending to think about her favorite restaurant.
"Well, actually there's this nice Japanese restaurant not too far from here. They have some great sashimi and sushi. But it's a bit pricey. Is that okay with you?".
"That's fine I'll take you there as long i get what i want and you doesn't disappointed me with your service, at least i can guarantee the 200 dollars" i said to her
Hanni's heart was racing as she listened to your words. She couldn't believe that she was going along with this, but she knew that the money was something she desperately needed.
"Alright, you have a deal. But remember, I expect you to treat me well too, handsome. Can't have my night ruined by a bad date" she said, trying to maintain her cheeky attitude.
Waving my hand to her "don't worry".
Hanni nodded, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves. She couldn't believe that she was going to do this, but the thought of a nice dinner and some extra money was enough for her to look past any doubts.
"Okay, it's a date. But for now, let me finish my shift, okay? I'll meet you at the restaurant later" she said with a smile.
Im just nodding to her words.
Hanni returned to work, her mind still racing with thoughts of what the night might hold. She watched the clock closely, every passing minute feeling like an hour, just waiting for her shift to end.
"One more hour..." she whispered to herself as she tended to the customers, her heart beating a little faster with anticipation for the evening to come.
~
Without anyone realize one hour has been passed and i was waiting her behind the cafe in the small alley right after the cafe hanni work on.
Hanni finally emerges from the cafe, her shirt slightly disheveled from the long shift. She takes a moment to catch her breath, feeling a mix of exhaustion and excitement for her date with you. As she looked around, she spotted you waiting in the alley and approached you with a soft smile.
"Hey" she said quietly, her cheeks flushing a tiny bit.
Found her in my sight "yo, you looks little bit tired but kinda hot after works, with little sweat on you" teasing her since she's looking pretty even after few hours shift.
Hanni's cheeks flushed a deeper shade of red at your comment and she chuckled softly, trying to maintain her cool demeanor.
"So you think I look hot, even after a sweaty shift at work? You really are something, aren't you?" she said coyly, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. She can't seem to hide her smile every time you tease her.
Suddenly I grabbed her left wrist and pulled her towards me and kissed her forehead
"Of course, has anyone ever made fun of a sweet girl like you?" I silently wrapped my arms around her waist while squeezing her small, supple butt.
Hanni gasped in surprise as you pulled her towards you, her heart racing at the sudden display of affection. She was caught off guard, but she eagerly leaned into the kiss on her forehead
"N-no one has ever treated me like this before" she managed to say, her cheeks flushed
Her breath hitched as you squeezed her butt, feeling her legs tremble a little from the intimate touch.
Focusing on her eyes.
"So, what do men usually treat you like? Like an adorable little slut? If that's the case, isn't it a little kinky? " I teased her.
Hanni cheeks burned as she heard your teasing comment, but there was a hint of truth to it. She knew she often attracted the attention of men who saw her as a small, innocent girl.
"Well, sometimes they do treat me like that" she responded softly, feeling her heart flutter as you looked into her eyes.
"I...I guess I kind of like it a little" she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.
After hearing her like that , i pushed her against the nearest wall and kissed her lustfully on the lips while my hands groped all over her body.
Hanni's breath hitched as you pushed her against the wall, her body responding immediately to your touch. Her lips met yours in a hungry kiss, her fingers running through your hair as she melted into your embrace.
She moaned softly as your hands roamed over her body, feeling their touch sending shivers down her spine. She wrapped her arms around your neck, pulling you closer as she deepened the kiss, losing herself in the moment.
After a few moments, you finally broke the kiss, both of you panting with desire. Her cheeks flushed and her heart racing, she looked up at you with a small smile.
"That was... incredible" she confessed as she caught her breath, leaning her head against your chest.
"This is just the beginning" I told her as I unbuttoned her shirt as quickly as possible and threw it somewhere, followed by taking off her bra.
Once her upper body was exposed, I immediately directed my lips to her chest and savored her breasts that didn't look too big but looked very cute and soft.
Hanni gasped as you quickly undid her shirt and removed her bra, feeling a rush of excitement and a hint of embarrassment as her upper body was exposed out in the open public space for the first time "oh my god we're in public, let's get a room first" she said with worrying tone.
Releases my lips from her breast for a few moments "don't worry no one will find us in this small alley" I reassure her.
Hanni's worries subsided as you reassured her, her body already craving your touch. She whispered, her voice barely audible as she gave in to the moment.
"Okay, just be careful, please" she moaned softly as you continue. Her fingers tangled in your hair as she arched her back, her breathing growing heavier with your touch.
After enjoying her supple breasts, I turned Hanni's body to face the wall and pulled down her jeans and panties, while spanking her ass.
"Time for my main course" I said in a slurty voice.
Hanni squealed in surprise as I slapped her soft little ass while looking at me over her shoulder "you want to do it here? It's a public place" she started to worry.
"Don't worry, I'll do it quickly" I told her.
Hanni couldn't help but be a bit overwhelmed by everything. Her mind was still trying to process the fact that she was letting you to fuck her glistening cunt in public.
Holding her hips from behind, I began to thrust my cock into her wet hole as hard as I could until I reached the end of her womb.
Hanni was surprised by my action of directly inserting my dick into her fuck hole suddenly without giving her time to adjust her pussy walls to the size of my dick, which made her feel split in two and made her feel pain and pleasure at the same time.
"Arkhh ahh ah oppa you're too rough, you'll tear my pussy if you keep fucking me like this" Hanni whines.
I keep pounding her roughly and moving my hands to her pair of tits too squeeze it hard as a handle for me to hold her in place
"I'm just make sure to make my money worth Hanni, you will get used to it soon" Keeping my pace to fuck her like a slut and keep squeezing her boobs hard with pulling her nipples.
The pain she feels is unbearable, Hanni starts to rolled her eyes because of the pain but gets pleasure from the rough sex she is experiencing, "Oppa you are going to break me, please be more gentle aaarkhhhh!!!" Unfortunately her body's reaction doesn't match her words, Hanni reaches her first orgasm as you fuck her like a whore.
When I felt Hanni having her first orgasm, I immediately pulled my cock out of her pussy so that she could squirt her cum in relief.
A few seconds had passed, Hanni's body was getting limp after squirting but I held her body while my hands still squeezed her breasts firmly and reinserted my cock into her pussy hole.
"I'm not done yet, you better not lose your spirit yet Hanni" I went back to fucking her roughly and lustfully like i was possessed.
Hanni was getting tired and losing her mind with all the treatment she was receiving from me.
She had begun to surrender to whatever was happening even though she was being fucked out in the open like a cheap whore.
All that was left were indistinct sighs and moans as she felt pleasure or pain.
After thirty minutes had passed, I started to feel close to reaching my orgasm
"Hanni, I'm going to cum where you want me to cum?" I said to her while adjusting the tempo of my movements in fucking her.
Hanni with eyes that were only half open and panting replied "Anywhere, you can cum inside me" Hanni said while stammering.
Hearing her words, I immediately pushed my cock as deep as I could against the tip of her womb and erupted my orgasm, filling her womb with my hot cum until her womb was full.
On the other hand Hanni screamed in pleasure, "Oppa!!! It's so full, take your cock out immediately! !!" She pleaded with her back arched backwards trying to release her pussy from my cock and relax herself.
After my cock was out of her pussy, Hanni pressed against the wall in front of her and bent limply but her body shook violently.
It turned out that she had a second orgasm and squirted very hard, releasing my sperm along with her love juices.
I as a man watching from behind was just amazed and satisfied to see the image of Hanni's pussy that looked melted while decorated with my sperm flowing out of her and the rest of her love juices.
I spanked her ass which was still shaking slightly
"Isn't this a nice sex experience, Hanni?" She seemed to be still standing on her knees with heavy breathing and did not respond to my words.
Hanni scoffed "good for you but not for me, this will be the first and last time I sell my own pussy for 200 dollars," she said as she slowly took back her jeans and panties.
Before she could put on her jeans and panties, I stepped on them to prevent her from putting them back on, "Why is that? Isn't that worth it? You even orgasmed twice because of this big cock of mine, didn't you?" I asked her in a somewhat annoyed tone.
Hanni glared at me "You're right, I cum twice because of that big dick of yours, but I was also in pain, so the pleasure I got wasn't worth the pain I felt, not to mention you fucked me like a cheap whore in this little alley," Hanni said annoyed.
I laughed at that "Come on it's no big deal, next time I'll do it gently, let me make it up to you, as promised, let's go to the restaurant you want" I took my foot off her jeans and panties and let Hanni put her clothes back on.
After Hanni finished putting her clothes back on, she stood in front of me while opening her palms "Give me my 200 dollars," Hanni said with a flat tone and annoyed face.
To avoid her irritation, I immediately gave her the money.
Hanni took the money I gave her and put it in the pocket of her jeans, then she looked into my eyes as one hand stroked the cock of mine that already warped inside my jeans, feeling the bulge in them.
"You enjoying the service right?" She suddenly spoke to me.
I nodded "Of course Hanni you are a very delicious little slut" I told her.
In a move I never expected, Hanni directed her hand that had been stroking the bulge in my jeans towards my balls and squeezed it hard, "Feels so good huh? How about this one, asshole, still feels good? Can you feel this little slut squeezing your balls?" Hanni yelled at me.
Feeling my balls being squeezed with full force by her made me reflexively squat down and hold her hand to reduce the force of the squeeze "Hanni please d-oo-on't" I said with a stutter while enduring the pain of my balls.
Hanni released her grip on my balls and slapped my face with all her might, "You asshole! Don't show your face in front of me again!" Then she left me to go.
And me on the other hand just stood frozen in place and tried to process everything that happened in this small alley.
.
.
.
Author note
Hopefully you guys can enjoy this first while waiting The lecture :)
1K notes · View notes
prettyboykatsuki · 1 year ago
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TEXTBOOK CITATIONS ON IMMORAL SEX | S. GETOU ft. F. TOJI
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✮ tags ; porn no plot, afab + fem!reader (good girl, little girl once sarcastically by toji, pretty), mild degradation (dirty girl, a bitch in heat), professor!getou + security guard!toji, dubcon, imbalanced power dynamics, age gaps(10+ years), mild coercion / blackmail, spit play, wet ‘n messy sex, face-fucking, oral (f +m!recieving), spanking, restraints, dirty talk, creampie / unprotected sex, 18+
✮ wc ; 10.6k
✮ synopsis ; You’re willing to do anything to pass your intro course. Whatever it takes. No cost is too high.
✮ a /n ; a comm for the beloved @fushironi !!! thank you for commissioning me and letting me post your work. if anyone is interested in a commission i will be reopening them at some point this month hopefully
A SIDE NOTE: THIS IS VERY CONSENSUAL!! but the relationship is inherently unethical so the dubcon tag is there. and this is. just smut. no plot no brain. just porn.
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You're failing ethics. 
You're failing ethics and failing it badly. 
You refuse to take all of the blame for your failures. Some of it is your fault, but most of it is the fault of your good-for-nothing academic advisor. You're not sure what they get paid for, since it seems like there's an elaborate prank going on between staff and you're the only one not in on the joke. In what universe is it possible, plausible - that an individual could get paid for doing everything but their job? 
Apparently this one. But whatever. 
In your last semester of university, on the edge of graduating and totally on the right track - you're informed that you're not going to be able to graduate in the expected time frame because you are missing a single course. You learn this information about two days before registrations close, which means all the meaningful classes contributing to your major are booked and busy. Everything is full, and everything that isn't doesn't contribute to your degree. As in, even if you took it - it wouldn't give you what you need to graduate. 
After a full-blown mental break, a long night crying yourself to sleep in your dorm, and an egregious amount of begging - you managed to snag yourself a class. It wasn't ideal by any stretch of the imagination, and it did put quite the strain on your schedule. Straight out of your 8am lab - you had to speed walk to the other end of campus and make sure you made it to lecture. The lecture time itself was an hour and twenty minutes, attendance mandatory, twice a week - which meant you had to delay lunch again till afterwards and learn on empty fumes till 1 pm. 
Still, better than not graduating at all. 
You'd hoped (expected?) that the course itself would be about average in coursework. For one, it's an intro class. Intro to Ethics or PHIL-2467, with Professor Getou Suguru. Secondly, the actual listed coursework seems simple enough. Discussion boards, reading analysis, and a few papers made up for most of the grade. The expectations were outlined as clearly as they could be. 
You didn't really know anything about Professor Getou at the time, only that his ratemyprofessor described him as somewhat strict but mostly good. 
In any case, you'd consider yourself lucky. And in an effort not to freak out about your circumstances, you'd practically chanted to yourself each night the same mantra. Everything was going to be fine. You've taken nearly 120 hours of coursework, and a little extra time won't kill you. At the start of the semester, you fully believed it too. Bright-eyed, bushy-tailed, and utterly naive.
How could a single course torment you like this? You hadn't the faintest clue. At first, it struck you as odd that the course felt as difficult to grasp as it did. The readings were complex and extremely long but always said a lot of nothing. Much of your grade was dependent not only on assigned work but participation and discussion. The paper criteria was only simple on the surface, but proved to be too lengthy to comprehend and too difficult to fulfill. 
Long story short, the class was kicking your ass. And the ass-kicking slowly progressed into a failure so bad it was laughable. You're in your final year, and that means taking a lot of difficult and specified courses in relation to your major. You were at the point where your classmates were starting to thin out, and you were seeing the same group of people you had as a freshman. As far as prioritizing goes, a 3-credit hour course that isn't technically meaningful to you falls to the very bottom of your priorities. You're more concerned with things like job-hunting and finishing your capstone and all the stuff related to your actual career. 
So you've been half-assing all the papers and exams, falling asleep in class, and lowkey straight up ignoring the weekly discussion boards. 
However, above everything else, the worst part of your class is your professor. Professor Getou Suguru. PhD in Comparative Ethics with a Masters in Cognitive Science. 
You didn't really have a chance to speak with any of your friends about Professor Getou, despite it being in your best interest - because you only knew you had the class two days before it started. You'd come to learn only two things about him after attending. First, he's a complete hardass when it comes to grading any assignments, and second most of his merit comes from the fact he is ridiculously good-looking. 
He can't be any older than his late thirties or early forties, which means he's young. Young enough to be attractive but old enough for most of your peers to thirst for him in unhealthy ways. He's at least a decade and a half older than you, and by god does he make it clear. 
What they don't tell you about college is that there's nothing that can make or break a class more than your professor. Everyone is always too worried about everything else, about getting their schedule right - that they often overlook this basic tenet of college life even though it's so crucial. The worst part is that while various websites rating your professors are helpful, you won't truthfully know how you feel about a professor until you've met them in a classroom. You've had professors with lower ratings be absolute angels, and professors with higher ones being some of the most useless in your entire academic career. 
You were hoping that Professor Suguru would be what you expected. That his astounding 4.5/5 would be a meaningful assessment of his character, that he would be tolerable and polite and understanding and that your semester would be smooth sailing because of it. 
But of course, of course - that couldn't be further from the truth.
You don't know at what point exactly your relationship to Professor Suguru became as sour as it is right now. There's no real pivotal movement where mild intolerance became full-blown and outright distaste. But part of it, you know, stems from the fact your beloved professor is a snake. 
You have no idea how no one else notices it. It genuinely feels like you're the only one who catches the subtleties of his behavior. There's just something about him that's a little…off. The irony isn't lost on you. He's an ethics professor, but something about him makes alarm bells go off in your head. A walking red flag, though a handsome one. He's off in a subtle way, but more than that - he's very openly smug to every single one of his students. It's just that no one else seems to really care. The air of pretension that surrounds him in his every movement is suffocating. Maybe that's part of the charm, if the way girls flock to him after class is anything to go by. 
Even so, you just know there's something deliberate about his casual cruelties. He always seems to pick out the quiet kids, and from the beginning of your semester to now - he always, always manages to single you out of the crowd of students. In every class, in every discussion, in every chance he has to make you out to be a troublemaker he will. 
Yes, you don't really have any idea how it started. But you've been keeping a long record of every single act of personal terror that damned man has been inflicting on you since the start of the course, and you're not unconvinced that your shit grade is in part because he wants to see you grovel in front of him. 
The first time it happened - you figure it was a coincidence. He had called you out in class after you missed a discussion board. You hadn't done the reading, and it wasn't obviously humiliating but it singled you out all the same. When you fumbled coming up with an answer, he gave you a smug smile that so quickly morphed into a fake sincere one, you wondered if you were imagining things. 
The second time was when you came in late after a walk of shame, and Professor Suguru greeted you by the door by asking if those were the same clothes you wore yesterday. After being completely mortified by it, the once dark gaze immediately rescinded to his usual fake-calm self. It was suspicious, but not the concrete evidence you needed. 
And the third time was after your first project of the semester. Your grade was lower than you deserved, and you knew it - so you went to his office hours to bitch and moan to get it bumped up. But he wouldn't budge, saying that he thought his assessment was accurate. Made a smug face as he told you he just didn't think you thought your points out through. Unfair critiques shielded by flowery words and polite gestures. It was that moment that cemented the dislike, though it wasn't the start.
The beginning of the end, so to speak.
Ever since then, you've harbored nothing but dislike for him. You can see past his pretty face and you don't see anything good. You've had unpleasant professors before, but none have ever targeted you so specifically. None of your previous professors, even at the worst, seemed to hold such an unbelievable personal grudge. 
You're all alone, fighting an invisible battle. 
The worst of it though, is that you simply couldn't be bothered to give a shit about it for most of the semester. You had way too much going on, so you just had to put up with the inexplicable dread of attending that class until you had to deal with it again eventually. 
And after months and months of avoiding the issue head-on, you're at a point where you can no longer do so. Your grade is officially below a C after bombing your last quiz, and there's only 5 weeks left until your semester is over and you're barred from graduation. 
And you have no fucking idea what you should do about the situation. 
__
There's a subtle pit of dread in your stomach as you enter your first philosophy lecture of the week. 
For the first time since the start of the semester, Professor Getou doesn't antagonize you as soon as you enter the door. In a strange way, this makes you kind of uncomfortable. He gives you his usual fake smile, but the fact he's gone out of his way to leave you alone makes you feel like he's planning something. 
You brush your paranoia aside as you take a seat in the back of your class. You don't have any friends in this lecture, at least not ones you do more than greet. You sit closer to the back of the lecture hall, tucked into a corner and up a few steps.
The charms on the end of your book bag zippers click together as you take your seat. You open your laptop - pulling up the lecture slides to pretend to study while opening 2048 to play while Professor Getou goes on about his business. You're hoping he's going to go easy on you today, and that his lack of interference is a sign of mercy. 
More people start to trickle in and the classroom is the usual amount of packed it is by this point in the semester. The last day to drop passed last week, so the number of students has decreased despite it being spring semester. 
Your professor starts his lecture as soon as the clock hits 11:30am. You look up from your computer, watching him as he sets up his slide deck and waits for all the conversation to settle before he begins talking.
He catches your eyes briefly before he continues, but he holds it for long enough that you know it's intentional. You frown at him, and it almost looks like he laughs - but you can't be sure your mind isn't tricking you into thinking that. 
"Good morning everybody," His voice is smooth and pleasant - hair tied up neatly. He's wearing his usual attire. Black slacks, and a loose-fitting white shirt with some kind of canvas shoe. "How's everybody hanging in there? Good? Bad?" 
He takes a look around the room, gauging peoples replies before chuckling. 
"Not in good shape huh? Stick it out, a few more weeks and you'll be out of here. Today, we're going to continue on into section five of our coursework - the shortest of all of our other sections," He grabs something that clicks the slide into the next one, a few images next to a wall of text "We have a lot to cover in the last few weeks, but I want to start with a refresh of what concepts we've been learning for the last few weeks." 
The swiftness in the way his eyes land on you is comical in its predictability. You give him an uncomfortable half-smile as he calls your name and brings the class's attention your way. A few looks of pity don't go unnoticed. You stiffen, straighten your back as he says your name slowly before asking. 
"Do you think you can tell me, what are the four core structures that define modern Japanese philosophical thinking?" 
There's real, uncomfortable weight to his gaze that makes you choke. You pull back slightly. 
"Uhm, well - there's Shintoism, Confucianism, Buddhism and western ideology. Primarily German idealism."
He gives you a smug look, the same one you always see before it fades off to an uncannily brilliant smile. Not a sincere one, because when is it ever - but there all the same. 
"Someone's been studying hard huh? But you are correct. We've spent the majority of this class going over the first three. How Shinto tradition, Confucianism, and Buddhism were experienced in Japan - isolated from Anglo-Saxon influence for the first few centuries of its establishment. We've also studied the vague historical timeline of these influences, mostly focusing on modern philosophy. We've covered Edo period philosophy as a precursor for what we know and understand now." 
You can say a lot about Professor Getou, but more than anything - he has a certain way of commanding the room's attention that never lets you get completely comfortable. He has an air of charisma you've never seen in your life and being in close proximity to it makes you feel like you're being swept in by waves larger than life. 
You fidget almost anxiously as you wait for him to continue his lesson.
"Our last few weeks are going to cover the culmination of your previous lessons, and what dictates both national morality and the hierarchy of modern Japanese social mores - Bushido. The way of the Samurai." 
Professor Getou continues with this slide deck as he outlines Bushido conceptually. From its existence as a moral code in late 12th century Japan, to the many misconceptions about the strictness in which it was adhered. He starts the lessons like he starts many others, explaining misconception and myth before touching the surface of the subject at hand. 
It's in his nature to advocate for the whole truth. From the start of your classes to now, Professor Getou always places the same emphasis. If only that truth is unable to be understood without opposition. It's like his whole being is constructed by it, opposition that is always radical and jaw-dropping. You've known this about him since he voiced his open critique for certain ideas about social welfare and about the emphasis of national morality. 
You can't be certain what he really believes - only that he'll voice his views as critically as possible, if only to stir the room. 
"Bushido is the heart and soul of modern and postmodern Japanese ethics, but it remains critically undefined despite its usage and citation functionally. Other philosophical schools of thought have strict definitions - Bushido is evolutionary in nature. Inazo Nitobe is primarily credited with the modern and popular interpretation of Bushido, but has received criticism for its obvious influence from Western ideas, and its comparison to chivalry."
Professor Getou sits back on the edge of his desk with a look on his face. 
"The tendency of Japanese philosophy to lean into metaphysics does not align with the many values of infrastructure and military present in the culture now, but I'm not going to critique the philosophy for you," He skips to the next slide, your last project of the semester on the wall "For the sake of brevity, I'm going to have you write a paper on one of the eight outlined ideals in Nitobe's work, and I want you to reflect on that ideal in your paper." 
A collective whispering erupts in the class as people stress about the assignment of their final few weeks. Not unexpected given the circumstances. Professor Getou doesn't flinch as he waits for the room to settle down.
"This will be your final project in this classroom, and will count as your final grade. On one hand, doing a good job on it means you have nothing to worry about for the last few weeks. On the other it's make or break," He locks eyes with you again as he says this, startling you as his smile grows coy and inauspicious "So if you're in need of a good grade to pass you, I'd recommend coming to see me during office hours or during one-on-one time so I can get you the grade you need. We'll discuss more at the end of class, but we've gotta get through more lectures so you can get an idea of what you can pick."
He gives you one another look, another pointed and obviously direct look, before he proceeds on with his lecture. It gives you a bad feeling in your stomach, and maybe you're being too self-centered thinking he's focusing too much on you.
But you can't help it, swallowing down your uncertainty as you continue on with the lesson. 
You need to pass this class. 
___ 
You meet up with Nobara after the fact. 
She's a good sounding board for your problems as usual. Where you're always looking for the most civil solutions, she's good at giving it to you straight on what you should do. She's no bullshit and you like that about her. Whenever you need a kick in the ass or an ounce of courage, she's the person for the job.
 So after meeting up for lunch, ranting again about Professor Getou (for the hundredth—no, thousandth time), and whining about his weird behavior, you're expecting some semi-sound, if not mean advice on what you should do. 
"Have you thought about just fucking him?" She says instead, her voice full of sincere boredom. It comes out so casually, like she's relaying the news cycle to you - and you can't help but be utterly shocked listening to it. "Not that it was my first suggestion, but I mean…it's getting ridiculous." 
"Hello? Where the hell did that come from? What do you mean just fucking him?" 
She gives you a sideways glance of disdain as if you were the one saying something unreasonable. She leans forward into her hand mirror, gluing on her eyelashes for her afternoon date with Maki. She scoffs when she realizes your shock is genuine. 
"Are you serious? Does this not read as an elaborate scheme for this total jackass to fuck you?" 
You're flabbergasted. Surely she's not being serious with you. 
"Nobara." 
"Haah? Tch. Don't make that face. It's a gross abuse of his power but well, he's not ugly. If he were any younger of a professor, would you like… not assume that was the end game?" 
"Nobara, he's a professor of ethics. His whole career is ethics." 
"Yeah. Like. The perfect cover for wanting to screw his wide-eyed, desperate students. He's a hot, young professor. Not my type but you get me. Don't you think it's a little naive to assume his personal vendetta against you is shit, I don't know… totally lacking that motive? Think with your brain, not your tender little heart for a minute, okay?" 
"It's not that!" 
"Really? Just like your relationship with Mr. Fushiguro is totally platonic?" 
"I said it was one-sided, not platonic." 
"You're my whole heart and soul, you know that right? I didn't freak on you when you said you had a crush on Megumi's deadbeat dad. You're my salvation from the idiots we call guy friends. So I'm saying this with love, and not as the complete bitch you know me as - you're being dumb." 
"Nobara, are you seriously saying you think this whole thing is about him wanting to," You can barely even get the words out. You're not that much of a prude but god. "Wanting to have… sex with me?" 
"Yeah. What else would it even be? I think an awful man is interested in screwing you - a hot, capable twenty-something. Are you stupid? Is that like, sooo impossible for you to consider?"
"Well it's not the first place I would think to go, that's for sure." 
"And that's your whole problem. Don't get me wrong, again, totally gross. Is it like.. a total abuse of his authority? Yeah. But that doesn't have anything to do with you personally. If I'm right, and you fuck him - you get a good lay and to graduate. And you need both."
"Nobara!"
"Don't be mad, I love you, okay? But I'm thinking about your future and your prospects. There's nothing wrong with it on a technical level."
"That is so untrue and you know it—"
"Look. I don't like it. I think it's a weak move and kind of corny and gross. But you've been planning your big graduation for years. And it's not a bad opportunity, and you're not a complete idiot. You said before that he's never inappropriate with the other girls right? You might even be the only one. As far as I'm concerned, there's no reason for you to not get laid and pass." 
"Oh, so the student-teacher thing isn't reason enough?" 
"Not if you wanna graduate it's not." 
The two of you remain at a stand-still as his words trap you into a corner. How the hell do you even deal with this information? And how on Earth is she so sure of herself anyways? You think you're pretty good with signs, at least about things like this.
But it doesn't feel like flirting. He's never flirted with any of the students in class, despite how much they seem to fawn over him. Could this weird, psychological dance you've been doing for the last twelve weeks be some sort of unspoken foreplay ritual? 
The more you think about it, the less it seems implausible to you. There's a wave after that, some cross between impending doom and shameful arousal blooming up inside of you as everything hits you all at the same time. 
When you return to reality after being trapped in your thoughts, Nobara gives you a mindful (almost pitiful) smile and shakes her head. You frown at her in reply, squeezing the bridge of your nose. 
"If it were like literally anyone else, I'd totally tell them it's a bad idea. But it's not like you're going on to date him, and you're what - 24? because of your gap year so you're not a preteen like some of the freshmen in your class. I just don't see any reason not to go for it." 
You tamp down the small voice in the back of your head, encouraging you to do - and instead ask her a follow-up question. 
"...Do you think I should attend his office hours tomorrow, yes or no? I have to email him by tonight to get the one on one." 
"Yeah. Yes. And shave before you go." 
__
You decide, for the sake of your sanity and everyone else's - to ignore Nobara's odd implications about what Professor Getou wants from you and to attend his office hours.
(That's a partial lie, you figure - given the fact you did shave, and shower before attending. You're wearing something kind of nice underneath. But you still don't think he wants to fuck you. It's more of a safety precaution than anything else.)
 You made the game plan last night that you would go, present your idea, and then beg him to be kind to you during the grading process. You even developed a list of things to sob and cry about it to generate something of a sob story if everything went awry. You've forsaken your pride. The only thing that you need to get out of this meeting is a passing grade. 
And that is, of course, by any means necessary. 
Fearing for your life, the state of your mood improves as you approach the building hosting Professor Getou's office. Of all of the people you interact with semi-regularly on campus (all of which you are quite fond of), Nobara wasn't lying about your affection for campus security guard - Toji Fushiguro.
He's an older man. Older than you by double digits, and from what you can tell - older than even your professor. You've been fond of him ever since he brought you back to your dorm after a horrible break-up with your ex as a sophomore. He's got a rough edge, and there's plenty of unverified rumors of his past. You know that he has something of a criminal record too. 
But for all of those rumors, and for all the things you hear about him - he's been one of the highlights of your campus experience. You've had a one-sided school-girl crush on him ever since that night, because you were sober enough to catch his body and how it feels. He was strong. Not in an average way. He made it so effortless when he was carrying you home in his arms - and it's not the first time you've seen him lug around things at least over 300 pounds like they were nothing. 
But attractiveness aside, he is uncharacteristically good at cheering you up. He's funny and witty, all while maintaining a cool facade. He's endearing in his own way too, and you're a little head over heels for him though you'd never push yourself to make the first move. 
Still, when he sees you come towards the building - he greets you with a wide smile. The scar over his busted lip - split open and welcoming as you run up to him for a hug. He's normally patrolling around campus, so it feels lucky to catch him where you least expect. 
He wraps you up with a single arm, your feet temporarily lifting from the ground before you get put back down again. 
"Mr. Fushiguro, what are you doing here?"
"I got moved over here since there's been some rumor about someone stealing from the labs upstairs. So I'm on lock up duty for this building 'till it gets fixed up and solved," He says, voice as smooth as ice "What about you sweetheart? It's gonna get dark out soon." 
"Ah, I have office hours with Professor Getou today. I need to consult with him about a paper." 
"That right? Just gonna be you in there, then?" 
"Yep. I'm gonna go in there and beg him for a good grade on our next assignment. So for the sake of my sanity, please wish me luck?" 
Mr. Fushiguro tilts his head to one side, grinning. 
"Wouldn't that mean you graduate sooner instead of later? Can't wish ya luck on that." He says, making you flush and letting the feeling linger before continuing "Just kiddin'. A pretty face like yours should do you just fine. Knock 'em dead." 
"I feel a lot better about it with your encouragement." You say honestly. Mr. Fushiguro gives you a laugh.
"Treat me to something if my luck makes any difference. And hurry in. Last thing you'd wanna do is be late." 
You nod, wide-eyed and dazed by how charismatic he is before you rush into the building. It's silent, given how late in the school day it is. Most people have already gone home, with the exception of the other poor souls likely chasing down their professors for the same reasons as you. 
You feel an overwhelming sensation of dread as you encroach upon Professors Getou's office. There's no one else in the close vicinity, only a few closed classrooms and students who are passing by the small corner where his door resides - most of which are making their way to leave. 
You decide to take a deep breath, calming your shaken nerves before knocking politely once on his door and entering the room. 
Professor Getou's office looks like how you'd expect it to look. It's clean, and sleek - and lacking almost completely of items of personal effect with the exception of his desk. It's the first time you've ever been inside of the room before, but it smells distinctly of him. He has that same scent surrounding him, like flicks of nicotine and a hint of bergamot. Sweet with the taste of metallic bitterness, like blood and sugar.
You feel the back of your throat bob as you see your Professor sitting at his desk. It's lacking his usual gracefulness. His shirt is unbuttoned down by three entire buttons, and his slacks seem looser. Most notable is his hair - classically long, now in a loose bun with pieces falling all on his shoulders and rolling down his neck. 
You think of what Nobara said to you earlier in the day alone, a strange and overwhelming sensation of lust and embarrassment making it difficult for you to open your voice and talk.
It's Professor Getou who greets you first. He looks up from whatever he was reading and looks at you from where you stand awkwardly at his door. His smile widens, though it's just by a little. 
"Ah, I was wondering when you'd be here. Looks like you're right on time." He says first, sitting up in his chair but not bothering to gather himself in any way otherwise "Come on in and sit. I assume you're here to talk about your grade."
 You sit across from him hesitantly, hands folded in your lap as you put your bag down on the floor. 
He studies you quietly. There's a long stretch of silence, where neither of you do anything but sit in each other's company.
He breaks the silence first.
"So, while I have a guess," He says, elbows on his desk "Do you want to talk to me about what you're here for?" 
You've practiced the dialogue in your head so many times now. What to do and how to say what you need too, but the words seem to fizzle out completely when it's time to really say them. Leaving nothing but uncertainty, you open your mouth only to close it once again. 
"Uhm," Your voice strains trying to make the words out into a coherent sentence. "I came to talk about my paper. And my grade, like you mentioned in class."
"So you decided to heed my advice? Good girl, that was a smart choice," You try not to be taken aback by the pet name - unsure if it's as inappropriate as you think it is "Do you know what virtue you want to cover?" 
"I thought I would pick uhm, righteousness - and then pull from some of the Western ethics we learned about. Making uh, connections between deontological ethics and duty and how it relates to the defined idea of righteousness," You explain nervously, an uncomfortable laugh bubbling out of your throat "How practicing duty and righteousness relate to each other."
 "Hmm. Sounds like you've had time to think about it a little, then."
"I uhm, haven't finished the reading but I did take a look over my section to see if I could make it work." 
"I think you have something to work with. You'll need to straighten out the thesis of your paper into something more tangible. I know that's an ironic ask. But I think it's a good idea," He gives you a brief glance, studies you with eyes. Snake-like. Something coils inside of you, tickles and brushes against your skin and makes the hairs on the back of your neck raise "It seems like you have something more to tell me, though." 
Do you? Is there anything more there? The answer lies indifferently on a scale from obviously to no. nothing at all and it haunts you that he's able to pick it out. 
"It's just well. Uhm. You know, I don't have the best grade in this class so I was more prepared to go down with my grade. You approved quicker than I thought you would." 
"Your grade is pretty abysmal. Did you come in here planning to beg?" 
You refrain from an instant yes, even though it's what you feel. Something about the way he says it makes your stomach clench. Your heart quickens. Your tongue feels too heavy in your mouth as you laugh uncomfortably. 
"Something like that? Uhm, or at least try to hash things out between us. I know our relationship over the c-course of the semester has been kind of sour so I…"
He cuts you off.
"Has it?" 
Your brain stutters to halt.
"Uhm. Yes?"
It's unpredictable, utterly and completely - the way he reflects on your words like you've said something incomprehensible. You aren't sure if that's sincere. You can't be sure if any of the words out of his mouth are. But he doesn't seem like he's lying. Your mind flashes to Nobara, and you find yourself speaking before you can stop it. It comes out like a flood.
 "I j-just always assumed you singled me out in class because you didn't like me? I don't mean to be accusatory, though."
"I'm afraid you've got the wrong idea," He says, shaking his head "I don't harbor any negative feelings for you at all."
"Oh," You say, eyes falling down to your lap again "Right, then." 
"You must be desperate for that passing grade, hm? If you're meeting with a professor you think hates you." 
You glance at him. 
"Well, yes. I want—need to pass this class. I've already planned my graduation for this semester." 
"And you'd be willing to do anything for that, is what you're implying?" 
"Yes," You say, with a sudden rush of unwavering confidence "Anything." 
"Let me ask you another question, then." He lets his elbows rest on the edge of his table, a familiar coy smile "Do you think there's any other reason for why I've been paying special attention to you, aside from me disliking you? You're a smart girl, so I'm sure you'll be able to figure it out." 
The weight of his words don't go unnoticed. The air feels heavy as it hangs between you. He couldn't be implying it so directly could he? Your mind drifts back to Nobara's warning to you, and your breath hitches. Your eyes widen as you glance up for the first time and give him a look of mild distress. 
And he smiles. His grin widens as soon as it dawns on you.
"Seems like you've reached an important conclusion," He says, casually - as he sits up in his chair and leans back. Stretched like nothing could get in his way "Why don't you share with the class?" 
"You," Your voice is a nervous tremor. You must be crazy. You must be completely out of your mind "...To sleep with me?" 
"See? I told you, you're a smart girl." 
The question is a burning one. One you've been wanting to ask since you started thinking about it last night. 
"B-but…why? And why me? A-and," 
"You have a tendency for being combative. You know that? An air of defiance. I can tell you're a little older than your peers. A little wiser, and a little more knowing of when to ask for help," Getou outlines, staring you down "And seeing you with that sense of desperation was exciting for me. I'm a man of simple tastes. At my age, I know what I want." 
"And I like when tough, combative, clever women turn into babbling, desperate, needy girls. I'm quite fond of it, actually." 
He's detrimentally serious. Your stomach flips. 
"Do you want to pass this class?" He asks you, an air of confidence surrounding him. You close your eyes, unsure if you can call it coercion when you're feeling so terribly willing about it. 
"Yes. I need to pass." 
"Then come up here," He gestures, widens his legs and leans back in his chair "And sit." 
Your body is burning. You don't know if you're even really in the situation, or if you've daydreamed it into something impossible. Something phantom moves you. Stands you to your feet shakily before walking in short strides. Professor Getou looks at you from where you stand over him. 
His hand brushes your outer thigh, patting it. 
"Sit." 
So you sit. You spread yourself and straddle your professor - and the reality dawns on you the minute you touch what you're doing. You haven't gotten laid in a bit, and he's nothing like anyone you've ever slept with. You feel out of your element. You get the impression he's a man, a grown one. There's a confidence in him that looms and looms and looms, overshadowing any of your doubt.
He's sexier up close. There's the faintest trace of smile lines on his expression as you look down at him. He guides your arms to loop around your neck, and holds your hips with his hands. 
Then you feel it, almost instantly - something hard and bulging pressing against the seam of your pants and against your crotch. He's already half-hard and he hasn't even kissed you. He grins at you lazily, like a cat with cream. 
"I'll pass you as soon as I put it in," His hands are so big - long, slender fingers gripping your ass "And give you extra credit when you cum for me. How's that sound?" 
You feel dirty. It's all happening so fast. Almost vulgar, but it's impossible to feel cheap. To believe in the wrongness of it when Professor Getou is so undeniably sexy. Wrong, on so many levels, to do this for the sake of your grade. Or just in general. Yet you want it, yearn for it, find the culmination of all your annoyances melting as he graces you himself. 
"I wanna pass," You say, uncharacteristically nervous about everything. You add the next part a little quieter "...I want it." 
"What do you want, exactly?" 
"Want you to fuck me." You admit, against your better judgment "Please?" 
"Gonna make a real pretty mess out of you," He says, voice smooth and serene. You look down at him. His knuckles brush against your jaw, on your cheek before his thumb holds on your lower mouth. His fingers push past the edge of your lips, sliding against your tongue and gently running along your teeth. He gags you on it, so slightly - enough to startle you but not enough to hurt. You feel spit pour from your lips. 
Thick messy strings of drool drip down the sides of your mouth. You want to back away in shame. But there's an air of intention behind the gesture. It's deliberate, the action - the mess and how it runs down your neck. Before you know it, he's kissing you in that same state. 
Professor Getou kisses like he's done it before.
His hands grip on your ass as he kisses hot and heavy. Self-assured, he sucks and bites at your mouth - sticking his tongue in and mixing his saliva with yours in a way that feels downright dirty. Yet it makes you throb, white-hot flames licking at the back of your thighs. The sparks of arousal crawl up your skin. 
Your nerves tighten as Professor Getou cups your face with one palm, kissing you with fervor. You melt into him, arms wrapped tightly around his neck. 
"Been thinking about what you would look like bent over my desk all semester," He says as he pulls away, looking on with admiration at your messy complexion "You wanna go on ahead and show me?"
Another wave of embarrassment washes over you, but you find yourself standing to your feet. Sliding your sweats off down your legs - your lower half is left bare with the exception of your feet. You lay or stomach on his desk, the cold wood sending chills up your whole body and your stomach and tits lay flat and squishy against the hard material. You stand, shoulder width apart, and present yourself in front of him. 
"That's what I like to see," His voice is rich and deep as he speaks. You can feel him inch towards you, pulling you apart with his palms before his hand comes down on your ass in one hard motion. The noise echoes against the walls of the room "See, I knew you could listen well when you had to." 
You don't say anything in reply, pressing your cheek against the desk. 
"W-what do I call you?" You ask, your voice trembling. You feel his fingers against the seam of your panties. He snaps the cotton waistband against your skin before humming thoughtfully, a light tap to your ass. 
"Getou is fine. Suguru is too. Sir if that makes you more comfortable."
 Getou makes a show of fondling you, though you can't see it - you can feel the way his eyes nearly swallow your naked lower half. How his fingers touch and prod all of your sensitive places, with some kind of keen observation. Everything Getou says is like that, keen and particular.
"Such a pretty pussy on you. Would've been such a waste if you didn't come to me."
You don't bother to ask what he means by that. Behind you, there's a noise. Of a chair rolling back, and the dull thud of knees hitting the ground. Before you know what's happening, there's a face dangerously close to your clothed pussy. The minute you try to squirm, there's a tight grip keeping you in place. He takes a deep breath. Without any real hesitance, you feel his tongue lick across the clothed material. 
In one fell swoop, he pulls your panties to one side and kisses your clit without any more real introduction. You're gripping the edge of the table you're bent over as you feel his tongue slide against the wet folds of your pussy, making your voice cry out involuntarily. Normally people would urge you to be quiet, but you got the feeling he didn't care if anyone heard you crying out for him. You get a second wave of intuition telling you he might even like it. 
A sensation of bliss washes over you as he sucks hungrily at your cunt. It feels good enough to be holy. There's such immense expertise in it that you can't help but succumb to it completely. The warm, heavy muscle gliding over sticky folds.
You're so lost in the pleasure, your mind completely blocks out the intrusion. The sense that would detect another person in the room disappears completely. You only know because of Getou, the way he stops and scoffs. It forces you to blink your eyes open. He speaks before you get the chance. 
"What are you doing here?" 
You recognize the voice instantly, and your heart drops through your stomach. 
"Thought I heard a ghost howling," Mr. Fushiguro says, his voice is rougher and deeper and older "Turn out it was just a little girl wanderin' into the woods." 
"If you can see I'm busy, why're you still here?"
You can't help but feel the second wave of overwhelming shock as you sit there, naked and unafraid. Still, they stand like nothing is wrong. Chat like they know each other somehow, but you have no idea in which way. All you can focus on is the bubbling, nauseating shame. 
"Oh god." You voice, but both others ignore. Mr.Fushiguro speaks first.
"This one is off-limits, Suguru. What kinda professor goes around fuckin' their innocent little students?"
"Just the one, Mr. Fushiguro. And I'd like to get back to business."
"Ah, no way I'm letting you off the hook. I could report this y'know? Make headlines. Ethics professor coerces student into sexual activity. It'd be big. 
Your heart drops. 
"Fuck off, would you? Does she look coerced?" 
A beat of silence. "Nah. Not with the way she's twitchin'. But it's not fun if I just let you go. How about you tap me in and I'll keep your little secret hm? She's gotta cute crush on me already."
Your heart flounces around in your chest, a muffled noise of shock escaping your lips as you squirm to move but are held, still, so firmly in place. Your expression and feelings all go through 5 stages of grief before settling at dumbfounded. They don't especially ask for your input, but you hear Professor Getou behind you.
"Fine, if it'll get you to shut up. And I'm fucking her first."
Strange. Nothing about today makes any sense. You don't miss the almost childish sense of competition in Getou's voice that changes your view of him in an instant. Humanizes him in the strangest and most unrecognizable ways. It lacks his usual virtue.
Mr. Fushiguro walks up in front of you, imposing. He's grinning, a well-worn smile on his face that you know. He helps you up, and you keep yourself upright on your arms as he grabs your chin with his palms. You look up at him wide-eyed, unsure of what to do.
"Dirty fucking girl aren't ya?" He says, though he almost sounds like he's impressed with himself 
"You into older men or is it a coincidence you're screwing 'im for your grade?"
You're speechless, and you moan a little pathetically as Getou doesn't stop eating you out. This only seems to make Mr. Fushiguro even more excited. You look up at him through wet lashes, unsure of what to do.
"Don't mind either way, just curious. Guess I'm a little sad 'cause I thought your little heart eyes around me made me special," He tells you this looking down at you, eyes locked. You can tell he's just teasing you, and it makes you twitch "But I guess that's not true, is it?"
"You're different. I uhm. Well it's true at least."
"Yeah? You're just letting both of us fuck you 'cause you're like a bitch 'n heat?"
You flush. He gives you a smile and a well-meaning laugh that makes your body feel warm with heat.
"Mind if we're a little rough on you, sweetheart?"
You shake your head.
"Good. Stick your tongue out and open your mouth for me then."
You listen, oblige the instructions almost obediently. Your face is still covered with spit from before. You watch idly, intently - as Mr. Fushiguro pulls his cock out from his black pants. The loose material covers him well, but as soon as they're down past his thighs - the outline of his cock borders on intrusive. Your eyes widen, fluttering and unfocused because it's hard to think about anything while feeling such intense pleasure.
But Mr. Fushiguro is captivating as he pulls himself out for you. His cock is thick and heavy, protruding but too much that it can't stand up on its own. Weighed down by gravity, you stare at it wide-eyed. It's the size of your forearm, so thick you can't possibly imagine what it feels like.
Your heart stammers. 
"It won't fit in my mouth." You say, gasping for air as if you're already suffocating on it "You're—you're so huge."
He laughs with an edge of snark. You blink at him in complete seriousness, taken aback. He lets the tip of his cock tap the plushness of your cheek before pressing against your lips. You stare at him, almost afraid.
"Of course it'll fit," He says in confidence "Just gotta make sure you're relaxed. So relax, sweetheart, and open your mouth for me." 
Hesitantly, you open your mouth wide. You feel the corners of your lips stretch around the intrusive, thick head of Mr. Fushiguro's cock. The taste of sweat and skin is invasive and heavy, violating your senses. Just the tip and it barely fits in your mouth. You try and concentrate, sticking your tongue out and curling it around the underneath of his cock, focusing on sucking just the tip. He groans above you, a hand on the back of your head. He doesn't force you down, but you can tell by the twitch in his fingers that he wants to.
"Look at you," He says, his voice coarse with restraint and desire "You're drooling on my cock while you're professors busy eatin' your pussy. Thought you were an innocent girl, but now I don't know what to believe."
He says this as he eases more into your mouth, slowly letting you adjust. He rocks his hips back and forth until you relax. You open yourself up, trying to focus on blowing him.
But a hand comes down on your ass, hard and heavy - making you yelp. The noise is muffled but audible. A short squeal, you can't turn your head to look 
"Don't you think you two are getting too comfortable upfront without me? I'm the one who decides your grades."
"Maybe you're not doing good enough for her to care."
You can feel a strange sense of competition between them, but you're too occupied to ask about it. How do they know each other, and for what reason do they seem so automatically hostile? It bothers you, but you can't think about it too hard.
"That's not true. Her pussy is soaking fucking wet." He punctuates his words with a harsh smack against your cunt, the force rippling through your as you bend forward and choke "Almost as messy as her face."
He's quick, again, to latch himself to your clit. He flicks it with his tongue, licking it mercilessly as your brain starts to fog up with desire. Like he's trying to prove a point, you moan around Mr. Fushiguro's cock as your pleasure starts to thrum up again. The back of your legs tense, trembling as a knot begins to uncoil in your lower stomach. The cock in your mouth moves too, using the distracted moans to ease himself even deeper into the wet, arm cavern of your mouth. 
Your head feels heavy, body weak as the both of them use you to their contents. Your stomach starts to stir as a familiar feeling of euphoria claws at you. 
You cum for the first time like that, your body pressed against a wood desk - restrained and under careful watch of two men. Your whole body explodes - white, hot nerves fraying off and ricocheting off your ribs inside of you. Your insides shake as the wave of an orgasm washes over your entire body. You gasp, clenching down hard and gasping as tremors of orgasm pulse and push through your whole body. Something in you ignites as you grip the edge of the desk for your life, trying to keep yourself upright as Getou pushes you through the orgasm. 
You've barely recovered when Mr. Fushiguros pulls out of your mouth, pressing his spit-soaked cock against your face and cheeks with a smile. You let it slide against your tongue, eyes fluttering open as your face gets covered in precum and saliva. 
"You look so fucking filthy right now, you know that? But it looks good on you. I'm dying to fuck you." 
"Mr. Fushiguro," You groan. He clicks his teeth. 
"Toji's just fine sweetheart." 
You whimper helplessly as you ride out your high. Behind you, your professor pulls away. You peek behind you to see him, flush as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. 
Toji looks down at your frazzled expression with a grin, teeth showing as he cups your jaw a second time and slides his cock back in one go. This time, he pushes his cock in the base - keeping your throat around him with a hand on the back of your head. 
"Just focus on me for now, baby. Focus on sucking me off, yeah? Just like that, easy easy. He's gonna open you up. Stretch you nice and make your pussy all sloppy. That's what you want right?" 
Getou leans over you, the weight of his body looming as you feel slender fingers slide through your sticky folds. His middle and index brush against your abused clit, rubbing a few circles into it before pulling away. He grabs your arms and positions them behind your back, gripping them in one hand to keep you restrained. You squirm against the gesture, unable to get any leeway as he holds you down. Then you feel his fingers move, middle finger catching on your wet hole as it trembles and sticks. He opens you up like this without any warning. 
His middle finger goes first - delicately intrusive as your pussy widens to accommodate him. They're so much bigger than yours. Just one feels like two of your own. You push back out of instinct but Getou doesn't let you move. He buries himself, pushing in and out until he's able to fuck your pussy all the way down to the knuckle. Once there's no longer any resistance, he pulls back and makes room for another. The sensation is duller, lets you clear your head and think even as Toji rubs his cock on your face and fucks your mouth in short ruts. 
Not enough to make you choke, but enough to smear something hot and nasty all over you. 
Professor Getou repeats the process with his pointer, pushing and stretching and opening until you can't fight it anymore. With two fingers, he scissors them trying to make your insides soft enough for him to take you. 
"You're stretching out for me like it's nothing. You must be turned on, hm? Like getting all your holes used like this? Getting your face-fucked by a man old enough to be your father?" 
Toji laughs harshly, smacking your face lightly, enough it doesn't hurt but enough to make you feel it. 
"She loves it. She's clenching down on you tight ain't she?" 
"Sure is. All this for a grade. Maybe I should've bullied you about it a little more first. Since you're so eager." 
"Gonna give her extra credit for this?"
"I should deduct points for the fact you're even near here."
He laughs good-naturedly at this point, and you're still having trouble making sense of their relationship. You manage to speak for the first time in forever, voice barely there as you go to question them. You're not expecting any solid answers. 
"How do you two know each other?" You ask, before Toji starts fucking your mouth again 
"Goes a long way back. And we're still on bad terms, so congrats on bringing us together, sweetheart. Kind of an expected reunion really." 
"He's been working here since Professor Gojo and I were students here and we knew him from before. A long story. Don't worry your pretty little head about it." 
The burning question is quick to fade out of your mind as you feel your professor's clothed bulge rest against your cunt. You moan, a clipped needy sound as you nearly beg him to fuck you. Toji bends over you this time, reaching back to spread your pussy open by grabbing your ass. You can feel the grip of his hands, strong and assured. 
"She's gettin' impatient. Give it to her." 
"Don't need your help with that." Getou spits, irritation sounding in his words. 
"Consider it an apology." 
The air of tension is there temporarily, before Getou pulls his cock from the confines of his boxers. You can't see it, eyes squeezed tight as you work your mouth and tongue Toji's length. You can feel it though. He makes a show of rubbing his cock against your puffy, sore cunt. You get a feel for its shape as he pushes it between your thighs and lets it cling in between your lips. Professor Getou's cock is longer and more narrow, but it curves upright. It's hard, throbbing between your legs. Whining helplessly you wiggle your ass again. You feel increasingly restless about needing something inside of you. You're still bound though, completely and utterly unable to move. Toji's hand comes down heavy on your ass as you do, clicking his teeth in faux irritation. 
"Don't fucking move unless you want my handmark on your ass forever," He says, his voice cool and forgiving "Impatient." 
Getou must feel something inside of him merciful enough to keep you waiting. Even with all the stretching and prep, the minute you feel the head of your cock push through - something inside of you snaps. It's still so big, still too much, still reaches a part of you so deep you didn't know it was there. The position itself - still being on your stomach, makes it reach so much farther than other positions. The raw, skin-to-skin contact leaves your tummy fluttering, skin prickling with heat. Your top is pushed up enough to expose your lower back and your skin is pulsing. You feel like your whole body is on fire, suspended between men so much older than that want nothing more than to fuck you.
Every time you try to wiggle away from the sensations, Toji's hand comes down heavy on your backside. It doesn't matter how minuscule the movement. If he gets the idea that you're going to try and pull away, he spanks you hard enough that the room echoes with the sound. Your skin tingles, phantom sensation left before as you're held open and made to take your professor's cock - obedient and wanting. 
Inch by miserable inch, it takes forever to take him down to the base. Your toes curl, eyes shut and mouth sloppily trying to keep up with the cock in your mouth and just barely succeeding. 
He groans behind you, shuddering 
"That's incredible," He praises, and it feels so good to hear him saying something so overtly kind you don't know if you want to laugh or cry "Your pussy is fucking incredible. Shit."
"You hear that? You gotta. Pussy's twitchin' like crazy. Ass is too, how cute." 
"Feels sho good," You slur, brain clear of any and all rational thought as a string of saliva drips down your chin "Please fuck me, please,"
"You heard her teach."
Toji lets go of you and returns back to where you are. He pulls his cock away from you, instead holding you up and cupping your mouth open. He kisses you, after everything - with all of his pre-spend in your mouth before spitting into it harshly and kissing it again.
"Such a pretty face you're makin' right now." He says, something of a warm and unprecedented affection to it "So excited to get your pussy filled up."
He leans you on him, lets you wrap around his midriff, and squeeze tight while he pets the back of your hair in a strange streak of affection. You don't know what to make of anything. All you can feel is the long cock pounding into you without any mercy. Razor-sharp thrusts, nudging against your swollen g-spot and pounding into your cunt with immeasurable force. A man so much older than you is fucking you, pounding your pretty little pussy, and turning you into a complete mess. He's meant to be a mentor to you, but he has his cock imprinting itself inside of you over and over and over.
Your stomach feels hot again, but some other feeling takes you over as Toji cradles you - watching you just as intently. He talks you through with confidence you can't entirely understand.
"Yeah, that's it. Tighten up for him, just like that. Feels good doesn't it? I know baby, I know."
You whine out in Toji's arms as he talks you through it. Behind you, you feel Getou's grip hold you tight as he pistons you. The sound of his thighs smacking against your ass is noisy, almost as noisy as your pussy. Slick wet, sounding each time he thrusts.
"I'm not gonna last like this, shit." He pumps into you a few more types before his hips stutter to a halt. He cums with his cock buried deep inside of you, filling you all the way to the brim. You feel his white, hot seed fill your belly, cock twitching as he unloads and makes your legs shake.
A sense of emptiness overwhelms you as Getou pulls out, landing a hit on your ass as he shakes. He kisses your spine. 
The two of them switch places without communicating with each other about it. Getou pulls out, and away - coming back in front of you and picking you up in his arms as Toji positions himself behind you. He spreads your cunt out with his fingers, examining the seed left over with a light laugh. 
"Gonna fuck into your sloppy little cunt, give you another load where you need it and make you cum." Toji says, not hesitating at all. You feel your breathing start to quicken as he takes the same positions as before. 
Toji doesn't neglect touching you as his arm curls around your waist, calloused fingertips brushing against your clit before his cock pushes into you. Your pussy takes him much easier, but even so - Toji is just so thick, you can't help but feel him all over again. This time, Getou has you in his arms, holding and guiding you. Your hands are curled around his bicep and lower spine as you're held up. 
Toji's thrusts are slower, but just as rhythmic - focused on bringing you to another orgasm. It's duller this time, the sensation more focused and spread. Toji is so big you feel it in your hips, your entire lower half tingling as he pumps his cock in and out of you. He gives you all of his attention, staving off his own orgasm as Getou encourages you with his own words. 
"Gonna cum again, pretty? Take another man's cum in you right after me? You want to, right? Take it all in, every drop. You've earned it."
You feel your insides tighten again, for a second time - in a miraculous span. Every muscle in your body tenses and contracts as both sensations work in tandem to bring you closer to your edge. 
Your nerves fire off a second time as you push yourself to the limit. Toji fucks you through another orgasm with ease, thrusting with each tremor until you've ridden out your high. His own orgasm and chase come not long after that fact. 
As soon as you've gone totally limp underneath him, he sheaths himself as deep as he can. Bent over you, he cums hard and deep, filling you to the brim a second time.
There's a brief moment of silence as Toji rides out his high, where all three of you sit in silence.
You find yourself limp as you lay there, Toji pulling out and Getou slowly letting you down before you look up with a tired expression. 
"...So, did I pass?"
Your professor laughs harder than you've ever seen him laugh.
"With flying colors."
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onlyseokmins · 1 year ago
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babymaker • c.s.c
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Pairing: choi seungcheol x afab!reader Genres: smut (minors dni!), roommates!au, fwb!au, lil angst if you squint plus gross fluff Warnings: swearing, mentions of past rough/marathon sex, edging, overstimulation, fingering, mentions of oral sex (fem. receiving, male teasing), biting (bc i wrote this), scratching, marking, mentions of car/exhibitionism sex, objectification, degradation, slight choking, tiny obsession w/ cheol's ass + tatts, making out and tons of kithing uwu, reader's a brat and economic major, cheol's a wealthy arrogant bbygorl, creampies <3, breeding kink, light mentions of babytrapping (look at the title lmfao), lots of touching and groping and teasing, sappy stuff ew, messy sex, kinda bulge kink haha, paragraph/word heavy, throwing in some silliness as usual, & lmk if i missed smth WC: 7.9k A/N: i know it's like a month late but this was suppposed to be for cheol's birthday lmfao but it's also meant to be a sequel to Lusty Gallant although it can be read on it's own ig esp since the characters seem ooc </3 also thanks to @hwanghyunjinenthusiast for giving me details on what cheol kithes taste like mwah
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Seungcheol and you still live together. And yes, that means you're still committed to fucking on every surface possible in the very nice apartment space comfortable for two.
Roommates with benefits works out well for the both of you — seeming to lean mostly in your favor. 
University is a hop and a skip away, close enough for Seungcheol to swing by on his way home from the office with a minor detour. The attractive man's appearance always causes several students to squeal and twirl their hair when he parks next to the sidewalk in a sleek, expensive black and red car. Silver rings that probably cost as much as your tuition adorn long fingers as they tap, tap, tap against the leather steering wheel while he waits. 
Seungcheol looks for you over the rim of fake sunglasses perched on the tip of his nose and tongue poking between brilliant white teeth revealed by a smug smirk. Your friends are not subtle — a few in-the-know of what kind of arrangement you have with him and the majority of others not — when they dig an elbow into your ribs or smack your arm in excitement. 
You loathe the gawking stares with the same amount of intensity as the tiny sparkle of delight that allows yourself to bask in Seungcheol's showy display of attention that's only partially for you. Aware of what he really loves is soaking up everyone focused on him, brushing back bangs with a pleased grin after checking himself out for the hundredth time in the rearview mirror. 
Still, the man is as punctual as clockwork despite a hectic schedule. Deluding yourself is fun whenever he rolls down the window and asks just loud enough for onlookers to hear and swoon over, "How was night class, sweet stuff? Did my luckiest charm learn anything new to advise me on the market's trends?" and receiving an eye roll in return.
"I keep saying you don't have to do this," you remind him every. single. time. because you're sincerely fine walking back the same route you take in the morning.
"Nonsense, it'd be a sin to let a pretty little thing like you walk the city streets in the dark all alone. 'sides it's on my way." 
"Of course, as long as it's convenient."
"Convenient?" he repeats with a cocked eyebrow and watches as you slide into the ridiculous car with a cute but sulky pout. An indication that something has ruffled your feathers, if even just a little.
You know not to slam the door too hard when closing it because the one time you did just to be a brat, your battered pussy paid the price. It was very sore for a good couple of days after being repeatedly edged for hours as punishment. First by his fingers during the drive home, next with his mouth on the hood of said car after he'd pulled into the garage, and then teasing touches along the several little pit stops on the way to the bedroom. 
All until you were pressed face-down into silky sheets, finally allowed to let go for the first time of the night with his thick girth easing its way inside of your aching cunt to the hushed words of, "Have to touch my baby gently, treat 'em with lotsa care. Always gotta play nice with the things I like, 'kay?"
Safe to say, you learned your lesson. Who wouldn't after being nearly bedridden and limping around for almost two days?
Seungcheol lets out the same kind of disappointed huff when you apologized to him for having to take care of you after that particularly harsh sex marathon — or any time, for that matter. "I've never thought of it as an inconvenience."  
"You're a busy man."
"Not so busy that I can't pick you up, 'specially given that we live together."
"Under various terms and conditions. One of them being that I put up with all your inconveniences, not vice versa."
"Then simply think of it as an additional nuisance of mine you have to deal with. You know I won't do anything you don't want, but at least let me have this so I know you're safe." Another harsh sigh leaves his mouth as he adds, "Even if the university was on the other side of town, I'd be there."
"Yeah, okay."
While there's a general love-hate relationship with your sassy behavior, it's in times like these where he extremely dislikes it since the timing is rather improper to fuck it out of you. Alas, he's left to fumble for an alternative that presents him as a man who possesses some semblance of decorum. 
"Can drive something else, find a car that doesn't draw so much attention."
"It's not the car," you snap back without thinking. Lips pressing together in a thin line when Seungcheol's fingers that wish they were on your thigh drum menacingly on the console as a substitute, rings flashing under the glow of the passing streetlights.
"Then what is it?" Your name falls from his lips in a soft, commanding kind of plea. 
Lucky for you, the short drive is almost over and you can avoid answering for the last couple of minutes. Pretending to mull it over as you focus on steadying the pounding thump of your heart and the erratic breath caught in your lungs.
"It's nothing," you lie fairly easily, already slinking out of the car the minute he brakes in the garage and ignoring the dark brown eyes trained on you because they will make you hesitate. You have to stay firm or end up caught in his trap. "Just tired, 's all. I'm gonna head to bed early, see you in the morning?"
And you don't wait for a response. Gently closing the car door and then sprinting as unsuspiciously as possible into your designated bedroom. Seungcheol won't follow or pry for now. He's always made a point to respect any boundaries you set and the promise to see him when you wake up will keep the man at bay for now. And you sure as hell were going to use all of that to your advantage, curling up under a blanket and trying to figure out what the fuck is going on. 
This "roommates with a multitude of benefits" arrangement worked. Chugging along like a well-oiled mechanism. So why were you contemplating the risk of messing it up and throwing the machine off its steady track? For something so fleeting? So emotional? The one thing that always fucks up these kinds of relationships?
Sure, you were in love with the way Seungcheol carried himself. His swagger. His money. Confidence, charisma, oh… and his cock, too. Who wouldn't be? But now, oh no, now you were also in love with the man himself — stupid Choi Seungcheol!
It was a gradual build. Always there in the background. All it took was for you to acknowledge its existence. Perhaps it was meant to play out this way. But you were still going to hold him responsible as an equal in contributing to this mess just as much as you were for falling. Your fingers clutch at the blanket, the poor fleece serving as an unfortunate outlet for your frustration.
When did the crazy marathons dwindle out? By no means had the two of you stopped fucking — absolutely not. It just meant that, well, rather than Seungcheol just fucking you, he more or less made love to you.
You feel a shiver down your spine and scream into a pillow at the worms writhing in your brain.
The sex was still terrific. You habitually muffle your sounds as it is — not ones of pure frustration like tonight — but out of extreme pleasure. The filthy debauchery hadn't changed either. The two of you deeply reveled in your depraved dynamics and more insane acts, maybe even getting dirtier once this subtle shift happened. 
Safety. Security. Seungcheol.
Words you would've never thought to use in relation to him.
And then there was the aftercare. A strange new intimacy. He cuddled in bed after taking the effort to clean each other up for a good night's rest. Remaining there fast asleep and quietly snoring long after you untangle yourself from the comforting warmth of his arms to start the day. Mornings were no longer cold because he chose to stay.
Weekends were becoming your favorite too. When he waddles around shirtless, barely awake upon discovering you gone from his embrace. A back-hug immediately when finding you again. Soft gropes at your curves and low groans of contentment while pressing his nose into the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent mixed with his while you prep breakfast. Turning you around for kisses and pursuing long, slow makeout sessions that were quickly becoming the norm. Only for you to accidentally bite down a little too hard on his bottom lip when you realize the toast is burning.
You miss the way his eyes shine with affection as they follow you panicking around the kitchen. When did this big apartment of his begin to feel so alive? Even previous roommates and their loud yammering hardly made him feel at home. Tonguing at the indentation marks of your teeth molded into his lip and the sting that keeps him rooted in the present moment, the man meets your flustered expression with a grand, playful smile. 
Ah, he thinks fondly, obviously.
Afternoons no longer consist of being stowed away in respective bedrooms or different rooms. Seungcheol sits at the kitchen table, furrowed eyebrows as he chips away at the excel sheet reflected in the glasses perched on his nose. You sit across from him, dutifully typing up assignments for Sunday night submittal. 
He'll ask occasional questions just to learn more about you, your classes, and your dreams. Or if you simply need any help. Meanwhile, you make sure you're both staying hydrated and taking necessary breaks to rest your eyes from the screens. Sometimes you'll even get to assist him by analyzing a report. The real-world example aids as a unique use case scenario to better understand the concepts outlined in your textbooks.
You really were Seungcheol's lucky charm. He often wonders if you'd like to apply to work at the company he's in. But he'd hate to pressure or patronize you. So ultimately all he can do is stare in awe and provide steady encouragement as you formulate calculations, clean up the data, and transform it all into a presentable display of information.
It's usually his turn to cook in the evenings. Constantly getting distracted by your presence that he insists needs to be around to taste-test the vegetables that keep overcooking when he gets too caught up in tasting you. Innocent smooches here and there amid shy giggling that seems far too intimate than if he lapped at something else like in the past when he eagerly devoured your cunt right there on the countertop. 
When dinner is served, you honestly never know or care how tasty it is or isn't because Seungcheol himself is the spice in your life. Your plain world now explodes in a bountiful amount of flavor thanks to him. Later, you tidy up the kitchen together — similar to how you move in tandem to freshen up in the bathroom after sex and much like a married couple would act.
And that's why your damn roommate leaves you wanting more. 
These nights he kisses you bathed in the moonlight, working up a blistering heat that doesn't just simmer in your lower abdomen but follows the journey of his dedicated mouth. Upwards the wildfire burns, swooping into your chest and underneath the skin of your cheeks until it tangles with the expert tongue poking in between your lips. Seungcheol charts familiar territory with dancing fingertips across your skin, re-committing it to memory while yours sear into his, scratching at the wide expanse of his back and burying themselves in the curls of his unruly hair. 
He takes you to bed — not always in a sexual manner — and it really doesn't even matter how you end up there because that is where you'll find yourself anyway. Falling asleep in his arms and waking up to repeat this strange and newly established cycle.
So the fact that you are sleeping alone speaks volumes. What is said, you're unsure but little do you know that Seungcheol continues to fear you might slip out of his hands. The attached-detached battle strategy always lurks around the corner and somehow, it's almost better when he treats you like some sort of fucktoy only. 
The gentle sparkle in his eye was shielded by the switch to a mean glint, eyeing you up like you're nothing better than a piece of meat. No longer acting as the sweet yet cocky, handsome roommate you've gotten to know and grown feelings for. But reminiscent of the aloof and arrogant — still deviously attractive — man who propositioned this whole situation a little over a year ago.
Like now, as you kneel on all fours naked. Save for the humble pair of underwear whose innocence has long been destroyed due to the stains of your arousal mixed with Seungcheol's cum. Ruining the fabric that nestles between your legs for the sake of modesty you've thrown away hours — no, months — ago.
The very man sits before you on the poor couch that's seen its fair share of sinful acts. He's reclining comfortably, black t-shirt stretching out across a firm chest and broad shoulders while infamous gray sweatpants strain against thick thigh muscles as he manspreads so casually with a large hand laid over his crotch. Teasingly hiding the thing you so desire and are begging for. 
But he wants you to work for it. Harder. A lot more than you already have. Put on a proper show of how much you deserve to have him. And want him.
"Come," he commands and pats his thigh like he's talking to some stray dog. When you go to sit back on your knees to stand, his eyes narrow as they darken. "Crawl."
What you don't know is Seungcheol would easily yield to and for you if you'd just let him. Be honest with him. Tell him your feelings. Unfortunately, it's in both of your natures to be hella stubborn. Too prideful to admit defeat and be completely vulnerable. You've come to an impasse.
But crawl to him physically you do, shamelessness long gone. Because what could be more shameful than how willing you are to be used by him and how wonderful it feels to be degraded?
Obviously admitting how much you like the damn man. 
Goosebumps thrillingly cover your skin at how the gaze trained on you never loses its intensity with you coming closer, following all the way until your head is between his spread legs. Because he knows at least this is the most definitive way he can hold onto you for now.
"Kiss me."
And you obey, puckering your lips and tenderly placing them against the growing bulge beneath the gray fleece. Looking up with lidded eyes, blinking slowly as you let out audible smooch noises along the hard length before mouthing at where the tip lies. Leaving an even damper spot than the salty excess seeping through the fabric, suckling around the area to replace it with the hot saliva dribbling from your tongue that laps enthusiastically at the taste.
"C'mon pet," Seungcheol's tone is mocking in its chastisement, but the rough pad of his thumb rubbing your warm cheek is gentle. "Gimme a real one."
"Yes sir," falls breathlessly out of your mouth at the assumed permission, hands quickly reaching for the waistband of his sweats only to retract just as fast upon the disapproving click of his tongue.
"Not like that, up."
Uncertain, you brace yourself with the support of his quads so you're kneeling. Leaning in and tentatively pressing a kiss to the spot where you know at least one vein starts from the bottom of his pelvis and leads up to his abdomen. Tongue poking out in an attempt to feel and trace it, also effectively wetting his shirt just for good measure.
This time, a wistful sigh escapes between the man's pouty lips despite the furrowing of eyebrows because you're still not quite getting the message. The hand on your cheek slides down to your neck, briefly running his thumb tantalizingly across the side of your throat, landing on your shoulder, and grasping at your arm. Tugging up until you follow along with the motion and a bit of a surprised squeak, ultimately landing right where he wants you — straddling his lap.
"Oh," you mutter in surprise, abruptly snapped out of the lust haze that had been clouding your mind. 
Center of gravity thrown off balance until your knees finally ground themselves on either side of his spread legs. Your hands hover awkwardly in the air, struggling to find something to hold onto before resolutely settling on the back of the couch. But not before Seungcheol's sturdy hands steady your hips, sporty reflexes acting faster than you can complete any of these actions.
"Oh, indeed. Already too fucked out to think?"
"No… s-sorry."
"You can make it up to me," he teases and you wait for the punchline, "with a proper kiss." It's both amazing and brow-raising when the Choi Seungcheol lets out the lowest of whines at the smallest sign of hesitation. "Don'tcha think it's the least I deserve today?"
Spoiled is what he is — but it is his birthday after all — so, of course, you're more than willing to indulge. Although the trepidation is real, manifesting in the tense stiffening of your body and the acceleration of your heart rate.
"Relax," he says gleefully — a little too gleeful. "I don't bite."
"Most times, not."
"If anyone's the biter between us, it's you so…"
The taunting murmur of, "Go ahead and bite baby," turns into a satisfied groan when you press your lips against his. Contrary to the jest and much to his delight, you're gentle. It's so adorable that he finds himself melting below you into a puddle of goo. Becoming absolute putty, lips readily parting so you can lick into his mouth.
He tastes like cherry chapstick and coffee, flavors so Choi Seungcheol that it hurts with how much they alone can possibly overwhelm you. Your nose scrunches, eyebrows following suit. Unaware of how he observes close-up through heavily lidded eyes because he wants more and more of what he can't get enough of. Afraid you might disappear. Even though you're right here — on his lap, kissing him sweetly. Yet you're still not all there.
So, he works on anchoring you to him — somehow, some way. One hand urges you to release your support on the couch, bringing your arm down to sneakily thread his fingers between yours. Naturally, the opposite one falls to eliminate the odd angle and rests on his shoulder. Seungcheol's other palm shifts to splay across your bare back and push you further into his chest, your sensitive nipples brushing against the cotton material of his shirt. 
When that burning hand also encourages your ass to sit on his thighs to nearly smother him into the couch cushion and your damp core effectively presses onto the heated length stirring inside his sweats — he finally gets what he's been waiting for. The wanton moan that bubbles out of your throat is quickly swallowed up by the man himself, who ceases the passive role in the makeout session and kisses you back with a fervor that quite literally steals your breath.
He waits for you to surrender.  
Not to be confused with submission. Seungcheol no longer cares about any fucked-up or sexual kind of power play nor does he want to win. He doesn't even want you to yield to or for him. Oh, he wishes you would of your own free will — but if you at least give in to the moment, to the feelings of now, and the warmth shared between you two — that's the most he can ask for and what he's grateful to accept for the time being.
Your fingers slip beneath the neckline of his shirt, inadvertently starting to trace along the same pattern as the ink that decorates his skin. The menace of a man smirks, pausing his assault on your lips to croon knowingly, "Wanna move this to your room?"
It's annoying how Seungcheol can read you even before your mind can think. And it's even more irritating at how your body reacts, thighs betraying you. Viscerally squeezing around his figure today, much like the memory of them wrapped above his waist the other day. Legs spread by him in between them as you clung to his body that had been railing into you like there's no tomorrow. Your gaze locked over his shoulder at the man's pride and joy — his nice ass — reflected in the mirror deliberately across from your bed along with the inked designs of things he held dearly marked across his back. Including the healing scratches from your nails.
"No," you grit out and break the kiss to shoot him a pointed glare, "just take off your stupid shirt."
"Thought you'd never ask."
No one should ever look that sexy taking off clothes, but of course, Seungcheol does. Any snark left in you immediately fizzles out at the teasing reveal and intentionally flexed expanse of his stomach as well as his bare chest. And yet something shifts in the air after he throws the shirt off to the side, covering his torso with his arms and giggling.
"Stop looking at me like that."
"Like what?"
"Like you're gonna devour me whole, it's making me shy!"
It's not like you can stop yourself. Goddamnit, even that weird farmer's tan is drool-inducing. And the boyish smile he dons isn't helping either. You scoff to salvage a fraction of sanity, hands back on his bare shoulders and leaning in close enough for your noses to almost touch.
"Bullshit."
"Bet."
"You love it when people stare at you." 
There's a beat of silence. "But you look at me… differently."
"Hey — don't get weird on me, Seungcheol, or your dick's gonna deflate."
Normally he'd bite back at you. Stuff like: "My dick's just fine," or "Baby, it's so easy to get hard around you," and "You'd appreciate if my dick got smaller 'cause it wouldn't make you whine so much," but this time, he doesn't. He just stares at you. Thinking. Long enough for you to start getting antsy, unable to hold eye contact for any longer than two minutes, especially with him so close.
"What?" 
"You like me, don't you?"
It's the damn question he throws around all the time and your eyes roll up out of habit. "Yeah, I like you better without a deflated — "
"Forget about my cock for a bit." 
"Kind of hard to do," you fire back and try to grind down on the very inflated length twitching needily for the snug cunt it senses between the layers of clothes cruelly separating it from its warm home. 
Of course, Seungcheol is a little too familiar with your ploys and swats at your behind before squeezing your hips. "I know it is for a cock-hungry slut like you," he growls out in frustration before reverting back to his original soft tone, "but just humor me for a second."
"… Alright."
"You like me," he states and then repeats it in earnest when you sigh again, "you really like me. I would even be so confident enough to think you're… you're in love — "
"Well quit thinking," you interrupt with a snap, "I know your high and mighty arrogance causes you to believe everyone worships the ground you walk on but that doesn't mean a damn thing!"
Seungcheol's caramel eyes flash — with irritation or hurt, you can't quite place the swirl of emotions. "So that's all it is, huh? Just a figment of my imagination. A totally unfair projection of my thoughts and feelings onto you."
"If you wanted a session so badly on your birthday, then you should've scheduled with your therapist. And if you didn't want to continue fucking, then we could've stopped after the first round 'cause I was fine but you wanted more."
"You and I both know we're not just 'fucking'," he snarls, "and yeah, I do want more and that's why I need to know — with or without the sex, forgetting about the looks I know aren't just lust-filled because I see the ones you think I don't, I need to hear it out loud — do you like me?"
The plea of your name is the doomed cherry on top, heart thudding to the floor. It feels like the breath has been punched out of you. Though his skin is fiery warm beneath your palms it's not enough to thaw the way you've completely frozen over.
"Fine," you eventually wheeze out and Seungcheol relaxes — relieved — despite the crack in your voice, only to tense at your next words. "I'll move out tomorrow. Might take me a few days to get all my stuff gathered though."
"Wait… wait, wait… '' And this is the moment when the two of you find out that the black jujitsu belt he'd earned wasn't all for naught, effectively using a well-maneuvered technique that takes you off his lap and onto your back before you can escape from him again. "Please."
He begs, desperation evident in the way he clings to you and flops his forehead defeatedly onto your shoulder. As if he isn't the one who has you pinned to the couch cushions. He's never tried to hinder you before but honestly, he thinks he's hit the breaking point.
Don't you dare fucking leave me, is what is thought — but what comes out is a broken, "Why?"
"Because… because I… I breached the c-contract and made you uncomf — "
Seungcheol's head flies back up. "Then it should be me who moves out 'cause I'm pretty sure I violated the contract first."
"Wh-what?"
"Look at me," he commands and grips your chin so you can't turn away, "look at me, baby." And when your eyes squint open to stare into his, he fixes you with the most sincere expression you've ever seen. "I'm in love with you." 
Tears spring to your eyes at the wild admission. Neither of you are sure if your hearts are mending or splitting to fuse and complete the other's. What you do know is that Seungcheol melts into you with a kiss of elation and celebration, the big man further turning into an even bigger pile of mush when your hands cup both of his cheeks during it and a thumb rubs soothingly at his jaw. He smiles against your lips when you whisper back, "I love you too."
"Took you long enough." Your flustered protests are cut short when he sits up to lean against the opposite armrest, pulling you on top of him like your original positions. "Have a present for you."
"But you're the one who should be receiving gifts."
He shrugs. "I already have the prettiest one right here in my arms… even if I was almost left alone on my birthday."
"Sorry," you stroke his pouty lips, "to be fair, I was going to wait until tomorrow."
"While holed up all by yourself in your room in the meantime. Little shit, you know I wouldn't have let you go, right?" 
"Yeah… because you love me!"
There's an extra giddiness to your exclamation that's contagious enough to crack Seungcheol's chagrined expression with another grin.
"And you were gonna leave 'cause you loved me…" He lets out a huff. "Whatever, water under the bridge. Anyways, the gift. It's underneath the couch."
Curious, you lay flat and brush your hand beneath the furniture. Waving it around back and forth in the blind search, subsequently shifting all over Seungcheol's chest — bare skin gliding across bare skin. 
You snicker, feeling his cock stiffening once more with your movements. "Calm down, horndog."
"It's not my fault you're rubbing your very sexy body all over me!"
"… Why'd you even decide to put it here?"
"'Cause you never clean."
"Hey! Don't make me bite your dick off." It twitches beneath you. "Freak."
"We'll see who the real freak is when I go ahead and get it pierced with a barbell you'll like."
"Oh, fuck off!" comes your retort and he grumbles at the lighthearted jab while your hand finally bumps against a hard box that you grasp onto tightly. Pulling it out and frowning at the suspicious amount of dust covering it. "Gee, how long was this down here?"
"… Six months."
Your eyes bug out. "Six months?!"
"Told ya you didn't clean under there!"
"Oh yes, because that's the point here."
"It kind of is," Seungcheol teases despite the slightly wistful look in his eyes. "Knew you wouldn't find it there."
All you can do is shake your head, gingerly opening what you assume to be a jewelry box only to abruptly shut it out of pure shock. "What the fuck did I just see?!"
"Do… do you not like it?"
"That's so not the question that needs to be asked right now."
"It kind of does 'cause if you don't want it, I'll buy something else. "
"You've gotta be shittin' me." You fix him with a hard glare though he barely reacts to it. "How much of your bank account did you deplete for that?"
A satisfied, cocky smirk is all you get in return. "'Tis but a bucket of water taken out of the ocean, sweetheart. Trivial."
"Choi Seungcheol."
"C'mon," he takes the box from you with one large hand and pops it back open. You can actually feel the ache in your eyes set in at the sight of the dazzling jewels once again. "Thought it'd look gorgeous on you."
It's easy to visibly melt at his words because he's such a smooth talker along with the knowledge that he's kept this hidden for approximately half of a year. But that still doesn't distract you from the insane amount of delicate crystals forming a beautiful open heart shape linked to two short double-strands of diamond studs on either side that join together with a silver clasp. 
"It looks expensive," you correct, "how much was it?"
"Hmm, well it's seventeen carats so… a couple thousand, maybe?" 
Your jaw drops, eyes widening as one of Seungcheol's beefy fingers carelessly thumbs at the choker like the piece of jewelry couldn't pay off more than half of your student debt. You likely also get some type of look on your face because he clicks his tongue.
"Now, don't you worry your pretty little head about it. I would happily spend ten times as much to get something that expresses just a fraction of what your worth is — in the world and… to me."
"You're so sappy, what the heck."
"Better not start something you can't handle, love." Seungcheol kindly warns, a little affronted when his puppy dog eyes and babygirl pout aren't as effective at distracting you as he'd like. Well, there are other ways. "You can't return it without testing it first."
"Testing?"
"Mhm, but why don't you give your sugar daddy a kiss of gratitude first?"
You scoff. "The only thing you share in common with a glucose guardian is being filthy rich."
"Not because I'm sweet like sugar?"
"Maybe just a little," you admit and lean in to give him an even sweeter kiss, much like earlier. And like before, the man turns into a puddle of syrupy goo at the featherlight touches of your lips on his.
But it's different at the same time. Kissing your roommate has always been with a bit of restraint. That all fades away as you melt into him — safety, security, Seungcheol, surrender — the both of you addicted to and lost in one another's taste while everything else falls away.
Until the little shit that he is distracts you enough for him to deftly extract the choker from its box and fasten it around your neck. You hiss at the shock of cold metal and gemstones as well as the physical and economically ethical weight around your neck, breaking the makeout session.
"See? Gorgeous, just like I thought. Not that you can look at it right now… maybe next time, we'll test it, heh, in your room."
"So that's what you meant by test…" 
The lightbulb finally goes off in your head but all you receive in response is a smug look. Unaware that the grand menace is pondering what position he'd like best to see the choker for the first time in action. Something inside him clicks after absentmindedly slipping a finger underneath one of the diamond chains and watching you attempt to swallow at the increase in pressure constricting your airflow.
It's all bright white teeth when he smiles and whispers, "On your back, baby."
And you shuffle backwards obediently, letting gravity take your body down in almost a mini trust fall, knowing there will be a soft landing and that Seungcheol would never let you fall — unless it's for him.
Indeed, he does fall with you. Bodies pressed close together before he starts a burning trail of kisses starting below where the jeweled collar lays sparkling prettily against your throat. Down between your breasts he goes, an appreciative squeeze to both with warm hands that follow along with his movement. 
Little nibbles to your skin and brushes to your sides that first have you squealing at the sharp nips and ticklish sensations. They're accompanied by the upward curl of his lips that only spreads wider when those airy giggles of yours transition to light moans the closer he stakes his claim to the more intimate parts of your body.
He lovingly suckles the skin of your tummy, leaving stinging signs of affection littered around your belly button and right above the band of your panties. There, Seungcheol pauses and lifts his head to look directly at you, not even trying to hide the fiery swirl of lust and adoration in his eyes and it makes you wonder how you've ever missed it before. 
But that's neither here nor there, every nerve in your system is lit up in a wave of heat that has your hips instinctively rising as if pleading with him. Enough that his brown irises can't help but flit down to observe with raised eyebrows only to meet your flustered expression again with a totally-full-of-himself stare.
"So sweet and needy," Seungcheol murmurs appreciatively and hooks both thumbs underneath the side wings of your underwear to tug them off. "So fuckin' messy too," he adds in a condescending tone as if someone between your legs isn't licking his lips like a man lost in the desert for days stumbling upon a hidden oasis.
The bold eye contact he gets a kick out of maintaining is broken just to watch how the fabric adheres to your center thanks to the mix of his cum from much earlier and the constant leak of arousal pooling from your heated core. He's slow in the process of removing the saturated clothing. Giddy anticipation building until it finally peels away with a suggestive squelch to reveal your creampied cunt.
A choked groan rumbles in his chest. You're caught in the struggle between snapping your legs together out of shyness or letting them fall open just as he likes, the fear of soiling the couch again no longer even a thought. But still in no rush, Seungcheol slips your panties down one leg and while they hang off the other, supports your heel in his palm to place butterfly kisses along your ankle.
You peek at him in between the fingers covering your eyes and heated cheeks. "What are you doing?"
"Admiring you." Smooch. "Adoring you." Peck. "Marveling at how beautifully wet you get… this all for me, love?"
"Yeah, so… so you should take re-responsibility."
"Oh? And how so? What for?"
"Mmph!" You jolt at how fast he moves to fling your underwear over his shoulder and hover over top of you, whispering naughty words into your ear while roughened finger pads brush against slick folds.
"For knockin' you up? Not my fault this hungry pussy is never satisfied no matter how many times I stuff it. Greedy lil' thing."
"'m s-sorry… I — oh! Ohh…" 
"You don't sound sorry." 
Seungcheol mocks the shuddering moan that spills past your lips like he hadn't just shoved two chunky digits past those slippery folds and into the suffocating warmth beyond. His pointer finger bears its usual silver ring, the cold metal there and around your neck causing you to break out in a sweat at the chill engulfing your whole body. All from the heat swirling from the neck down, the torturous buildup between your legs, and meeting in a firestorm that explodes in your gut and makes your cunt tighten around his moving digits.
Your right arm snakes behind his nape and clings around it for dear life, nearly slamming the man's face into your tits — not that he's complaining — while the other sneaks between your bodies. Trailing down to where Seungcheol's fingers plunge inside of you, running yours across his exposed knuckles to dampen them with the filthy mix of arousal and cumstains he's playing in before tugging and teasing at your clit right above his vigorous actions. 
He clicks his tongue. "Now, what did I say about touching things that belong to me?"
"Don't touch without permission." A warning look that lacks any ferocity is shot your way but the corner of your lips quirks up, eyelashes fluttering, because he's really just full of shit. "And to handle… handle them with care, which 's all I'm doin'."
"Brat."
"You love me." 
"Damn right, I do. But if you're gonna use that against me like this maybe I have no choice but to discipline you."
You whimper when he withdraws his fingers, the loss and emptiness a punishment itself. "D-don't be mean."
"I'm never mean to you."
"You're not." You acquiesce with a cute little sniffle, interlocking your hands behind his neck to bring him down nose to nose. "'cept when I want your dick but s'kay, love you anyways."
"Using the L-word on me now, huh? Speaking of which, I never got you back for the little stunt you tried to pull earlier."
"Wha — ?"
The new position you had pulled him into grants Seungcheol the full teasing power he was honored to be blessed with. A dripping cock leaks precum between your bodies and smears your belly with the hot excess. Supported by a forearm beside your head, he languidly strokes his hard length and snickers. Barely wedging the mushroomed tip into your moist outer folds with a noisy squish and emitting a strangled groan from the back of the man's throat. Just enough so you can feel the faint tantalizing burn his girth promises in its efforts to stretch out your cunt, a buzz to the underside of your deliciously sore and engorged clit upon contact.
He's all toothy when you moan in response. Wiggling his hips lets him dip in a little further for the sole purpose of watching your eyes glaze over and threaten to roll to the back of your head. Lips parting wider in an adorable 'o' shape.
"Thought you could just leave like it's nothing. As if I don't fuck you full of enough cum to babytrap you here with me… Oh? You'd like that wouldn't you, pussy tryna gobble me up like the slutty whore that you are."
"Mmph, ah… only yours!"
No one has to be your special someone to read your body so easily but it's the fact that he is the one who's able to make your cunt react and squeeze around him just like so that fuels his ego. A mean sneer chisels his softer face features — less of a reaction towards you and more of him struggling not to plunge his pelvis forward and rearrange your guts. Or even worse (better), to bust a nut inside, painting your velvet walls with a creamy white. 
It would be so easy to slide in a little further… you're begging him with slurred words and a steady pulsating grip around his dick — just daring him to ease the rest of it inside.
But then you would never learn your lesson. And if there's one thing Seungcheol loves more than being wrapped up in the tight clench of your cunt, it's making you work for it. Show off how desperate and cock-drunk you are. 
"Y'know, all you had to do was tell me. Would've fucked you on every surface of this house, make sure there wasn't a moment that passed where you didn't have my cum dripping down your legs." He relents with the most meager of thrusts forward, widening the spread of your pretty folds suckling around him. "Anything to keep my darling 'lil babymaker satisfied, pump you full every minute of the day and make sure it takes."
"Ch-Cheol… please! Wan' you so bad."
"You'd like that, right? Givin' you a baby so you stay here forever. We'll make as many as you want, I'll even take time off to help." The sudden rush of paternal instincts makes the man pause, chuckling and muttering more to himself, if anything, "maybe you've been tryna babytrap me all along."
"Jus' want, just want your dick."
"I know, baby."
Seungcheol simpers at your pitiful plea but the menace in him victoriously pulls out and away, the departing wet 'pop' as loud as the slight fracture in his heart at doing so.
"No!"
In visible grief, your seizing legs clamp at his side with your heels digging into the dip right before the curve of his ass, clawing at his shoulder blades like a cat. That does nothing though except squish his length against your needy cunt, gliding pathetically against it but not once inside. 
He smirks and whispers hoarsely, "If you want it so bad, put it in yourself."
A shaky hand reaches down to grasp and stroke at his dick, inadvertently brushing against your swollen clit that has your hips jumping. You bite down on your lower lip in an attempt to concentrate, blindly guiding his slippery cockhead to where it rightfully belongs. All while Seungcheol watches with amusement and a pained expression of how heavenly your hand feels on him — and even more when you succeed and bully him inch by inch inside of your gummy walls that suction and ripple greedily.
"There we go, yeah fuck… just like that."
Further and further, squelch by squelch until your pussy stretches to swallow and take him all. Only a finger's width between your pelvises kissing one another, knuckles snug against his heavy scrotum. You release him with triumph, clinging again to his neck. Seungcheol takes the final push and you let out simultaneous moans when his balls settle warmly against your ass and the neatly trimmed hairs at the base of his shaft are flush with your pubic bone. The tiny rough strands becoming even more soft and soaked by all of the arousal leaking out of your hole and his slit.
"Mine," he affirms and sticks his pinky through the open diamond heart pendant, nail lightly scratching the front of your throat. 
"Yours." You hold onto his wrist, finally feeling so deliriously full and giggling a bit because you're somewhat light-headed. "You're mine too."
"Yeah, all yours, baby."
Seungcheol's beginning thrusts are slow, deep, and concentrated. He barely leaves your warmth, only sliding a little bit back before a harsh thrust forward to nudge his tip against the rougher spot that has some drool dribbling at the corner of your mouth out of sheer pleasure. 
That doesn't last long though, the both of you are extremely worked up and super sensitive. It only takes a few minutes before he's setting an erratic pace. Strong forearms cage your head to protect it and keep you somewhat stationary while giving him enough strength to absolutely plow into you without forgiveness. 
The couple thousand dollar choker starts to shift against your skin, bouncing ever so slightly in time with each repetition of relentless slams into your pussy. Such a sight delights Seungcheol so much, eyes focused on the glittery accessory and listening for its rhythmic jingle — bruising your tender flesh in ways that his lips don't — that ends up drowned out by the continual slap of the hard fucking he delivers.
"Gonna cum for me, sweetheart? Let me fill ya up?"
"S-soon! 'm gonna cum… so soon!"
"I… know. Oh fuck, I know baby. Let go for me, please. Surrender… ngh 'n give it all to me."
A powerful climax washes over you like a surprise, the setoff finalized by the large hand placed on your tummy. Applying just enough pressure to feel every vein and ridge of the cock against your inner walls while on the outside, Seungcheol lets out a guttural and feral groan at the upward bulge beneath his fingertips. 
You let go with a wail that's swallowed by his lips capturing yours. Your nails dig into whatever you're grasping onto, teeth unconsciously biting down on his tongue you meant to simply caress with your own. 
He lets out a strangled "oomph!" but the pain is easily sedated by the seductive way you contract and massage his dick in your unraveling — and then unprompted, he's spilling over the edge too. Coating your walls in thick ropes of white that sear your insides, gobbling up the release with repeated clenches as you both pant and wait for the orgasmic bliss to fade out.
"I think you're so sexy." Seungcheol mumbles the words tiredly into your shoulder and the laugh you let out sounds more like a winded wheeze.
"How lucky I am that you think that, has the post-nut clarity hit yet or… ?"
"I'm serious. I love you."
"I love you too. Happy birthday to my perfect sugar boyfriend or whatever."
He snorts, lifting his head to send you a lazy grin. "Yeah, happy birthday to me — the luckiest bitch on the planet to be loved by you."
"Spoiled is more like it but yeah. I'd say I'm pretty lucky too."
Adoration shines in both of your weary eyes, though Seungcheol has the audacity to lick his now very dry and cracked lips. "Say, was I right in picking out your gift or do you need more test runs?"
"What I need is a hot bath — no funky business — and at least twenty-four hours of sleep."
"That sounds good too. Y'know… if we sleep for a whole other day and confirm our relationship then, we can fuck for two days straight every year as an anniversary celebration!" His voice lowers, already acting naughty and unintentionally work himself up. "And then I'm positive you'll be bred properly."
You slap his shoulder. Hard. "Choi Seungcheol!"
"'m just kiddin'," he blatantly lies and gently pulls out of your sloppy pussy. Grunting at the goop and messy wetness that got everywhere. "Think we'll need to get a new couch."
"Great idea! Now, you can spend your money on something practical."
"Love you too." 
"God, what did I get myself into." When you roll your eyes, a toothy grin is what you receive in return. 
"I dunno, love, but I think this roommates to fuck buddies to lovers arrangement will work out beautifully, don't you?"
You give him another kiss just to shut him up. If you ever admit he's right, well, that would be with a mouthful of cock and a story saved for another time.
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onlyseokmins: September 2023 ©
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damiansgoodgirll · 2 months ago
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OK I found it! (No rush what’s so ever BUT!)
(During Roman’s tribal chief era.)
!Female Reader always had a crush on Roman, but was always too scared to ask him out.
One night during a match Kevin Owens costs her the match, (kinda like how Dom cost Raquel that one time) (you can pick between who ever is on the smackdown roster to have reader up against but it’s also not really required if you don’t want to.)
And basically the bloodline, mainly Roman goes to readers rescue, cause beef with Kevin.
(I know it’s not really…LIKE Roman to do something like that because he’s the tribal chief, but I feel like it would be a nice concept idea.)
Idk just fluff and adorable and what ever cause Roman… LMAO.
sorry it took me so long writing this but i’ve never written for roman and i had no idea on how to start 😭 i hope you like it + the timeline doesn’t really exist here lol
roman reigns x reader
likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated
‼️nothing major, hurt/comfort, angry roman, some fluff too, kevin owens is mean here sorry
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my weakness
everyone loved roman. yes, he played the big mean guy part and he was definitely good at it but deep down you knew that he cared. he cared for his family, his cousins, the fans, he even cared about his opponents while in the ring. deep down you knew he had a big heart and he was a kind person who pretended to be the bad one.
and maybe it was because of his big mean yet kind personality you caught feelings for him.
it’s not that you were big friends - you had a closer relationship with the usos and your shy personality made it harder for you to get to know him better.
but there were times when you and roman spent some time alone. at the gym, training before a big match or backstage, his presence was nice and even if you didn’t speak much, you enjoyed being around him even if the only present sound was the silence.
unbeknownst to you, roman always admired you. he adored your quite presence. when everyone was noisy around him, he found comfort in your silence. your presence was enough for him.
and his admiration for you didn’t go unnoticed backstage but everyone kept quiet, too scared the tribal chief would get mad if someone said something and they know better to not upset him.
all the locker room knew about that. the saw how roman was nice in your presence but mean with everyone else and even if it made you laugh, you never thought more about that.
even if you had no real beef with anymore backstage, somehow kevin picked you as a main target just to made roman even angrier.
it was going all good on friday night smackdown and you had a match against tiffany - if you won over her, you would get a title shot against nia and after being in the industry for over five years with little to no titles opportunities, you were ready to take it all.
it was your moment to shine, to prove everyone that you deserved to be the women’s champion.
what you didn’t see coming was kevin owen running towards the ring the moment you almost pinned tiffany. you almost had it. but you got distracted by him running and tiffany saw that as an opportunity to stand up and hit you in the back.
you were kinda surprised to see kevin there, why was he even there? he barely talked with you backstage and you pretty sure he wasn’t there to help tiffany as he had no business with her either.
feeling pain in your back, you tried to take back control inside the ring but when kevin got closer to the metal stairs, you and the blonde woman both turned your head towards him.
“what are you doing?” you almost screamed, definitely irritated that he was there to ruin your moment “get down kevin…”
but he stood there, watching the way you and tiffany kept fighting. for the second time that night you had the chance to pin tiffy down but you were too close to the cords and nonchalantly kevin put tiffany’s leg over them.
“what the heck! kevin!” you screamed, even angrier now. you were pretty sure you did him no harm so why was he ruining your moment like that?
at this point you were tired and in pain. kevin was trying to sabotage you and you didn’t know if you had the strength to pin tiffany down for a third time.
meanwhile backstage roman was getting ready for his interview later that night and he had no idea what was happening in the ring. he knew you had a match and he was dying to see it but jimmy forced him to repeat his lines for the interview and he was missing all of your match, until jey came to the tribal chief private locker room and asked him if he knew why was kevin ruining your moment.
roman scrunched his nose, trying to elaborate what his cousin just told him “what did you say?” his tone hard.
“kevin is costing y/n’s title opportunity man, i didn’t even know those two had beef” jey uso repeated.
his words making roman’s blood boil “they don’t” he simply said before he left his changing room.
you fought with every single bone in your body. your head was spinning, your back was killing you and you were tired but you wanted that title opportunity so you kept fighting and for the third time that night you had the chance to pin tiffany down, only for kevin to grab you by the leg and drag your body away from the blonde one.
you couldn’t understand. you really couldn’t.
was it in the script and no one told you?
was your career so pathetic that superiors wanted you out of any title opportunity and instead of telling you, they sent kevin?
your mind was spinning so fast and even faster when your teary eyes met kevin’s eyes. somehow you knew he felt guilty about what he was doing to you and yet he kept going on, dragging your body out of the ring.
you had no strength left so you laid there, hearing the bell ringing, letting tiffany win, and you lose, again.
the crowd erupted in boos, especially since everyone was waiting for your match and cheering for you.
you still laid there, trying to catch your breath again when you suddenly heard the crowd going apeshit.
a very mad roman reigns was running towards kevin owens and punched him right in the face. you quickly stood up, surprised he was even there.
you stood by the ring, a hand behind your back as you tried to catch your breath once again. jimmy and jey coming to your rescue as you all watched roman dragging kevin inside the ring “your beef is with me, now with her…you’re gonna pay for this” he whispered, almost as a promise before leaving the ring.
the crowd was cheering, thinking that it was all part of a script and some even thought that you were going to join the bloodline but you honestly had no idea what was happening.
you saw roman waking towards you, his eves never leaving your body “you okay?” he asked but you were too confused that didn’t even answer “let’s get you backstage…” and for the first time you saw the twins walking in front of him as. roman’s hand gently moved to your back as he helped you walking away from the scene.
medical staff checked you out and luckily you had nothing broken. you were just in a big uncomfortable pain.
roman brought you to his changing room, telling jey and jimmy to go somewhere else as he wanted to speak with you - alone.
“are you okay y/n?” he asked once you sat down on his couch.
“yeah, i think so…” your voice trembled. you definitely weren’t okay. you didn’t even know what happened in the last thirty minutes. your brain couldn’t comprehend it.
“you’re not okay…come here” he gently sat next to you and engulfed you in his big arms. you didn’t even realise you started crying. soft whimpers left your body as roman stroked his hand over your back “kevin is gonna pay for what he did” he said with stern voice.
you looked up at him, quickly wiping your tears away “i don’t think i’ve ever been mean or rude to him, why would he cost me the only title opportunity i’ve been given in five years?” you said mostly to yourself.
“because of me…” roman didn’t want to confess. he didn’t want to ruin the little friendship you two had.
your look quite confused “you?”
“yeah me…” he took a deep breath “because the men in the locker room know…”
“they know what?” you couldn’t understand what he was trying to say.
“that you’re my weakness…” he tried to avoid your look as you watched him with big eyes “you’re my weakness, i never felt like this and they know it…they know i have feelings for you but no one ever said anything…except for kevin, who thought that ruining your moment was okay…he did it because of me, he probably feels like shit knowing that he fucked you up but he got my reaction, he pissed me off and that was his goal” he exhaled once he was finished.
you stayed there, trying to assemble what roman just told you. he liked you, kevin used you to piss roman off and roman defended you, because, again, he had feelings for you.
“you have feelings for me?” you whispered, fearing that if you said it out loud it would have been fake.
“yes…”
“you, the roman reigns, the tribal chief, you have feelings for me?” you whispered again, making roman chuckle this time “am i dreaming? that’s the only possible explanation, i am dreaming…”
his strong voice chuckled again “i promise you that you’re more than awake…”
“why didn’t you say anything about it? we could have avoided a lot of silence conversations…” you asked.
“because i didn’t know, i still don’t know what the outcome of my confession is…i didn’t want to lose you and in all honesty i loved being in your silent comforting presence” he smiled, making you smile back.
you looked at him, trying to find any sign that he was lying but when you find none, you moved closer to rest your lips upon his bigger ones. it was a soft kiss, the both of you testing the waters.
“this would have been the outcome if you told me earlier…” you whispered against his lips, making him laugh.
the title opportunity long forgotten when roman gently moved you over his lap and deepened the kiss.
“i can’t believe you like me…” you whispered, too stunned to believe what just happened.
“i’ve been liking you since you joined the roster…i should have said something earlier…” he said softly while his hand softly stroked your cheek “but i’m glad i did it now…” he kissed you back feeling you smile against his lips.
after a couple of minutes of softly making out, you both got distracted by the twins knocking on roman’s door.
“not now” he said, a stern voice while you tried not to laugh.
“we just wanted to remind you of the interview…” jimmy voice said and you felt romantic scoffing, clearly annoyed to be doing that interview.
“i’ll be out in five” he screamed back and began to kiss you again when he felt the twins walking away from his locker room.
“as much as i love this, you have work to do…” you reminded him, getting an annoyed look by him.
moving back to sitting on the couch, you let roman getting ready as you admired him. he smirked feeling your look on him, especially when you tried to look away.
“i promise you, you’ll get your title opportunity back and no one will interfere this time, you have the bloodline protection, that’s a promise” he said, promising you.
of course you believed him - you knew how important he was in the game and he knew that if he asked hunter for a little favour, he wouldn’t say no.
“once i’m done with my interview, i’ll come back here and then we’ll finish what we started, back at my hotel” he smirked again before leaving the room.
you watched him leave, not being able to answer back. your mouth agape at the idea of spending even more time with roman - maybe, after all, it wasn’t a bad night.
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erodasfishtacos · 5 months ago
Text
Digging A Deeper Hole || MLB ||
Prompt: Harry is going through a rough adjustment to his new life. At twenty-one, he was the face of a massive franchise, a father, and a husband with millions watching his every mood. He starts to feel it. Word Count: 7.8k Warnings: Depression, Anxiety, Angst - please keep in mind H is young here so he’s a bit more immature than one shots where he’s older. He’s still figuring stuff out
AUTHORS NOTES:
There is 5 more part to this up on patreon (17k words, a 25.1k fic overall)
I upload a piece of writing every 1-3 days (usually two) consistently// currently updating abo!roommates
All writings are accurately and always added to the organized folders in the collections feature
There are currently 300 + pieces available to read
It only cost $3USD —— thanks for any support and check me out here!
========================= Harry had the weight on the world on his shoulders.
The past year had been the best but most stressful time that he has ever had in his life.
He hadn’t had a break, it was go, go, go.
At the age of twenty-one, it felt like he had responsibilities that most people never had this amount of.
He had expectations from every side, especially from work, though it sounded like a dream to be the new face of Major League Baseball, to be the highest paid rookie to start, or the fact that he was a projected to be one of the best players of all time.
It came at a cost.
A really fucking big cost.
It took Harry a while to realize that he was experiencing some depression, the pressure of his coaches, the team, the public, and on top of that, he was navigating being newly married with a baby.
++
”Styles, get off the phone!” His assistant coach shouted from the field, he should be jogging onto the mound because practice was nearly over, and everyone was ready to head back to the hotels.
“Hold the fuck on!” Harry shouts back without looking up, waiting for the FaceTime call to connect, he had thought he had more time before they started up again.
Harry’s heart leaps when it connects, his perfect baby in the camera view, blowing raspberries between chewing on teether that looked like car keys, “Say ‘hi’ to your daddy!”
Easton is too little to quite comprehend the phone but he blinks in confusion at the screen before blowing another wet raspberry towards his father.
”Hi East, look at how handsome you look,” Harry croons, trying to memorize every little feature because he’s only going to be this small for a little while, “Your daddy misses you so much.”
YN pulls the phone to her face for a moment, “I took him on a walk around Central Park earlier today and he saw a group of pigeons. He squealed so loudly that they all flew away in a flock and he started giggling. I wish I would have gotten it on video.”
”He really does love the pigeons-“ Harry begins but is cut off.
”Styles, final warning. Get off your phone or I’m locking it up! Now,” The other coach yells, starting to actually get pissed, and Harry has to resist the urge to flip them off.
”H,” YN says knowingly, it was pretty common that he was getting yelled at, “Go practice.”
“I want to be home with you,” Harry frowns, he truly means it.
”I know,” YN agrees with kind understanding on her face, “Go kick some ass for us.”
++
He didn’t get to spend the time he wanted at home with his family, the away games caused him to panic, and he was starting to have anxiety attacks as he steps onto the private jet.
Harry was blowing YN’s phone up at any free moment he got, asking to FaceTime to see her and Easton, and YN had noticed how much more he was asking for reassurance, it was frequent.
++
”He’s sleepy. He just fed for almost an hour,” YN murmurs, tired herself and her eyes were heavy, it was undeniable that she had a lot on her plate with taking care of Easton by herself.
YN did see Anne once or twice a week but she was adamant that she did not need help raising her own baby, that she was fully capable of taking care of Easton by herself when Harry wasn’t home.
Easton was ten-months at this point, splayed on his mother’s chest with a milk-drunk little smile as he laid his small fist on her neck, easily starting to drift to sleep.
Harry feels a pang of disgusting, gnarly guilt and disappointment that he’s not there to lay in bed with them, and he felt like a piece of shit for sitting in this swanky hotel room by himself.
”Harry?” YN asks after he doesn’t respond, he was just watching the screen as his wife ran her fingers through Easton’s soft baby curls, silky smooth.
Harry swallows harshly to avoid the tears prickling, “I love you so much. You know that?”
YN smiles at him, soft and warm, “We love you so much. We miss you and cannot wait for you to get home. We both want so many cuddles with you.”
Harry’s jaw clenches, scrunching his nose, and feel the pit in his stomach get deeper, darker, rawer, and it felt overwhelming as he sat alone with his family on the other side of the country.
It felt suffocating that he wanted to go home but he couldn’t because he had a contract, a job, he had to provide, and he worked his whole life to be where he’s at.
He’s in a position that billions would want to be in but all he can think about is being with his family, he would give up everything he’d ever accomplished to cuddle with them every night.
But he couldn’t, deep down, he knew that it was his emotions getting the best of him, and it’s disappointing that he’s not enjoying baseball like he thought he would right now.
“I…I’m sorry,” Harry sniffles, rubbing his eye roughly to catch the tears before they fall any further.
YN’s smile falls which makes him feel even worse, “Baby, what’s wrong? Why are you apologizing?”
”I’m not there to help you,” Harry presses his face into his forearm to try to stop the tears, “I’m just sittin’ here in a hotel room, I’m fuckin’ useless to you.”
”Hey,” YN says firmly, lips going into a straight line, “Harry, you are not useless. How could you think that? You’re providing for us. You make it possible for me to stay at home, in this beautiful home, with everything we’d ever need, and spend every moment with Easton. That’s because of you.”
It makes Harry feel a bit better, that perspective on the situation because he hadn’t looked at it like that, “I’ll always provide for you two.”
”You’re the best provider. We love you so much. We are so proud of you. Easton is going to be so so proud of his daddy and what a good man you are to us,” YN tells him confidently, thter’s no wavering in her voice as she watches Harry’s reaction.
Harry hangs his head, done trying to stop the tears, he didn’t feel good.
He had felt depression a few times in his life, the most when he was going through his struggles with his sexuality, and it was starting to feel like that again.
”Harry,” YN’s voice is soft, careful, “Are you okay, baby? What made you so upset?”
Harry wipes his face with the back of his hand, he didn’t want to worry YN.
She had so much on her plate right now that the last thing she needed to worry about was his mental health because he needed to pull it together and stop being so emotional.
”I just miss you,” Harry tells her, it wasn’t a lie but it really wasn’t the full truth, there was so much more to it than what he was letting on but he could handle it on his own.
Lord knows he had enough time while he was sitting in this hotel room alone or had a flight on the private jet.
++
Harry felt like a car ran him over, twice, and then backed up over him.
He did as good as everyone expected him to do during the games in San Diego, he won all three of the games with too many strikeouts to count, and two home runs to get them scores.
Harry was able to shut his mind off during the games, all he was thinking about was his job, and what he needed to do to make sure that they won the games - that was it.
Afterwards, the creeping feelings that had been haunting him especially hard this past month or so wouldn’t wait very long to pop up again after the games.
He started demanding a flight home the night of the last game, everyone else always waited until the next day because traveling right after playing was near torture with the exhaustion.
Harry felt like death as he landed in New York City, his bones were heavy as if they weighed a thousand pounds each, his arm was sore from how many pitches he had to throw, and he hadn’t been sleeping well when he was away from YN and the baby.
His heart was a bit lighter as he opened the front door to their home, the smell of his favorite brownies hitting his nose, and a peel of bubbly, angelic baby giggles echoed through the hallway.
Harry needed to see them, he dropped his bag and didn’t care that his cologne bottle most likely just shattered inside because of how careless he was being.
No, he was making his way toward the smell and sounds, and when he found what he waas looking for - his stomach untwisted just the slightest and everything didn’t seem so bleak for a moment.
YN turns around, having been alerted to his entrance by his bag dropping, Easton was on her hip and had a spatula in his hand, gnawing on it happily.
”Who is that, East?” YN bounces him up and down, “Is that your daddy?”
Harry wants to cry tears of relief when Easton drops the spatula, letting it clatter onto the tile, and starts to cry.
He was the cutest little thing.
Whenever Harry got home from work, Easton would start to cry because he wanted him, and was sad like he just realized that he had been missing him all day and he was finally home with him.
”Oh my goodness,” YN hums as Easton wiggles, starting to reach out for him with grabbing hands, dramatic tears running down his face as his pouty bottom lip wobbles.
”No tears, bub,” Harry coos as he steps forward, taking Easton out of her arms, and giving him the biggest hug he can manage as he presses kisses to the side of his face, his hair, his nose, “I missed you so much. I hate being away from you, East, miss you every moment.”
YN is watching with a content smile, patiently waiting her turn as he blinks over at her, his voice still soft and raspy, “Hi mama.”
”Hi H,” YN whispers back, stepping forward to cup his jaw and bring their lips together in a kiss, her thumb rubbing the stubble of his jawline and her other squeezing his hip, “I missed you.”
Harry hates that he feels the lump in his throat, “I fuckin’ missed you so much. I can’t explain how much I hate being away from you and him. I am so grateful that you’re so good to me and East. You know that?”
One of YN’s love languages was definitely words of affirmation so to hear such nice compliments really did mean a lot to her because she didn’t always feel the most secure either.
It was a lot to have her husband traveling all the time, where if he wanted, there would be unlimited opportunities for him to make bad choices because there was not a shortage of men and women who would bed him without a second thought.
YN had complete and utter trust in him.
It wasn’t ever a real concern but when Harry was as gorgeous as he was, it was hard not to feel a bit of insecurity when people often let it be known how much they found him attractive.
”Thank you, H,” YN brings him in for another kiss, “Dinner is almost ready. Brownies are also baking in the oven. Easton was my little helper but was trying to get his chunky fingers in the raw batter which he had an attitude about when I told him ‘no’.”
”You better listen to your mama,” Harry hums at his son, munching at his neck until Easton is giggling and pulling at his curls to keep him close, he loved his father so much, “Be nice to mama, Easton Robin.”
YN reaches forward, “Go get a shower. Settle in a little bit.”
Harry passes Easton back but frowns, “Darling, I can take him and manage. You have had him for the last week.”
YN waves him off, “I got him for a few minutes longer. Get showered, dressed, then we can eat dinner, and cuddle. Okay?”
”Sounds like a dream,” Harry replies because it really does, all that he wants is to be able to hold them in his arms, and start filling this hole that starts to eat away at him every time he has to leave.`
++
After Harry showers, he tugs on his briefs, and sits on the edge of the bed.
He doesn’t know how he fell asleep like that but it seemed to happen nearly as soon as he plopped down on the plush of their bed because he hadn’t slept in nearly twenty-four hours, after an exhausting game and seven hours of travel.
The next time he wakes up, it’s completely dark in the bedroom, and he blinks his eyes open to see the alarm clock reading that it was three in the morning.
YN was fast asleep on her side of the bed, baby monitor on the side table, and Easton was sleeping in his nursery on his back with a binky halfway out of his mouth.
Harry squeezes his eyes shut, putting his fists to them for a moment as he grits his teeth, “Fuck fuck fuck.”
He gets out of bed, not wanting to disturb YN, she looked so fucking pretty while she slept and Harry was in disbelief of what a fucking idiot he was.
YN not only watched Easton for the past week, she managed everything else for their household, made Harry dinner and dessert, all for him to fall asleep.
She needs a break from the baby, YN should have gotten one last night after all her hard work, and Harry just went and fell asleep like a bloody teenager with no responsibilities.
He grabs the baby monitor so that YN won’t be woken up, hoping that she will sleep in for as long as possible in the morning, and Harry can take on baby duties.
Harry’s plan was to clean the house, the least he could do as an apology but everything was near spotless thanks to his wife, and when he went into the kitchen to clean the dishes from dinner.
There were none, YN had put all the leftovers away, wrapped the brownies, and cleaned all the pots and pans - as well as all of Easton’s bottles.
”Fuck me,” Harry grunts as he resists the urge to hit something, instead slamming his fists on the countertop, and staring at nothing as he feels the deep hole become bigger, “Such a fuck-up.”
Harry doesn’t even know what he can do to repay her, to make it up to her, and the mixture of his anxiety and depression had to be the gnarliest combination because they were kicking his ass.
His anxiety starts taking over and an intrusive thought starts to pop into his brain and he can’t shake it.
What if she leaves you?
What if she doesn’t think you’re a good enough father?
She does all this for you and you treat her like shit the moment you come home?
You don’t deserve her.
Harry’s throat tightens up, it feels hard to breathe for a few minutes as he tries taking slow, deep inhales before repeating the process to help try to regulate his breathing.
He had to make this up to her.
++
Harry manages Easton by himself, that wasn’t an issue, and he was even able to run out to grab YN’s favorite donuts from a few blocks down before she was up.
Harry was currently in the living room, laying on the floor with Easton as he played with these soft, big blocks, and smiled at his father with only two little teeth showing on his bottom gums.
”Morning, well afternoon,” YN laughs as she looks at the clock on the wall, it was nearly twelve and she was able to catch up on all the sleep she desperately needs, “You didn’t need to let me sleep for that long, H. I appreciate it though, felt super nice to be able to get re-energized.”
”It’s the least I could do,” Harry replies, the enthusiasm that was usually in his voice was missing, and he struggled to meet her eye because he was embarassed.
YN knows something is off as she sits down next to them, scooping Easton up and tucking him under her big shirt where he can excitedly start to nurse - he very begrudgingly used a bottle but it was always a bit more difficult to get him to eat with one.
”Are you sure you’re okay?” YN frowns as she rubs his knee, “You seem down. Did something happen?”
”I’m a piece of shit,” Harry chuckles without humor, throwing his hands up, “Isn’t it obvious? I leave you at home with the baby and then the minute I get home, I fall asleep and don’t do shit to help you. On top of that, you made dinner and I didn’t even eat it.”
YN’s frown turns into more of a scowl, “Harry, what has you talking like this? Did someone say something to you? I don’t like when you talk like that. You were exhausted! You were just away for a week, training and playing, and have so much other than that going on. Do you really think that I’m mad about that?”
“I’m mad about how I acted because it effects you,” Harry grits back, his anxiety and depression had a tendency to make him cranky in a way that he normally wouldn’t be, “It’s no excuse. You get no excuses. I need to do better.”
”You need to stop talking like that,” YN retorts as she stares back at him with a twitch of her brow, “Everything is fine. We are fine. Nothing is wrong. This is how our life looks sometimes and that’s okay. You are doing this to take care of us.”
“It feels pretty fuckin’ selfish right now,” Harry shakes his head, standing up and trying to hide the wince from how achey his muscles were, he should do a cold plunge but he’s not going to take anymore time for himself - he dosn’t deserve it.
“How is it selfish?” YN is getting frustrated, her leg shaking slightly but then she stops when she realizes that it’s jostling Easton and he whines in displeasure.
”I get to get a full night’s sleep in a luxury hotel room, you’re here.”
YN scoffs, licking over her teeth, “Yeah, Harry. It’s a massive hardship, living in a three million dollar home in the middle of the Upper East Side. I think I’ll survive.”
“That’s not the fuckin’ point,” Harry cracks his neck, his anxiety made his heart rate feel like he was constantly running a marathon, it was hard for him to keep his composure.
”Don’t talk to me like that,” YN raises her voice, moving to get up with Easton still suckling away, “This isn’t how you show appreciation, Harry. I’m just trying to have a conversation and you have an attitude.”
Harry knows that he’s just going to continue to dig himself a deeper pit than he’s already in if he keeps talking.
Most of the time, he did not feel like like a twenty-one year old despite his boyish looks but right now, he felt like he was acting his age and it wasn’t a good thing.
”Why don’t you take Easton and see your mom today,” YN offers, her voice is still tight but trying to keep it cordial as she brings Easton out from under her shirt.
He was blinking languidly, his lips smacking in satisfaction as his belly was full, and YN hands him over to Harry to take, “Yeah, I’ll get him ready and go.”
It was a good opportunity to give YN a break but he was honestly a bit surprised that she took him up on it or that she didn’t want to come with because when Harry came home, they tried to stay together as much as possible.
He does know that he’s acting like a complete dickhead which makes sense why she wasn’t dying to spend time with him right night, still it was just odd because it’s unlike her.
”Sounds good,” YN pulls out her phone, looking down and fingers flitting across the screen which was also a bit odd, how she was a distracted by it because it was unlike her just like her letting him go alone.
God, Harry was making a fucking mess, wasn’t he? +++++++++++++++++
It stuck out like a sore thumb when Harry was off.
Normally, he was the most easy-going, bubbly, funny person who stole most of the attention when he wasn’t even trying.
It was how he captured everyone’s interest whether it was his big grin that had his dimples showing deep in the pockets of his cheeks, the way he threw his head back and let out these low raspy chuckles, or just how he nodded attentively when someone else was talking.
So when he wasn’t feeling like himself, all those things that lit up rooms disappeared, and it was hard for him to socialize.
Harry was still beating himself up the entire ride outside of the city to his mother’s house, Easton was napping in the back and this would be a nice sleep before the excitement of Nana’s house.
Harry was replaying everything with YN, from the way he was sharp with her to get short with her when she did absolutely nothing to deserve that from him because she was so fucking good to him - all the time.
YN never complained about anything.
She never complained about being at home with the baby alone.
YN never tied to guilt Harry because he was away during the season so much.
It makes it so much worse that he’s not able to hold his shit together even just for YN, he didn’t want her to worry about his mental health, that’s the last thing she needed on her plate.
He was going to figure this out himself.
It wasn’t that he didn’t feel like he couldn’t talk to her, it was more that he knew she cares so much that it might upset her or make her worry when he’s on the road, all he wants for her is to focus on Easton and herself.
Harry normally loves going up to his mom’s, a little lake house that he had bought her with one of his first paychecks, despite how much she huffed and puffed, he knew that it was a dream of hers to live on the water.
It was the least he could do after she did so much to make his dreams come true.
However, despite Harry getting a decent amount of sleep, he felt bone tired and just drained was the best way to explain it - he felt like all the energy that he normally feels has been sucked clean out of him.
He wanted to turn the car around, go home, crawl into bed with YN and Easton, and not have to interact with anyone else for at least a week but that wasn’t possible with his schedule.
Harry should be enjoying his time right now.
They have an off week which meant that he had nearly two and a half weeks at home because the following week were games at their home stadium so he could be home every night.
Harry just couldn’t wait for this season to be over.
And that thought alone alarmed him because he fucking loved baseball, he loved being the best of the best, he loved all the recognition he got but right now his desire was lower than it’s been in a really long time.
When he pulls down the long driveway, a house sat back off the residential road where she had neighbors but there was a good amount of distance between the them to give privacy and seclusion.
He sees that there are multiple cars in the driveway which makes Harry groan because he didn’t realize that his mom was going to call over friends and family since he was coming to visit.
Anne did that sometimes, when Harry called saying that he’d be up, she would call aunts, uncles, relatives, and close friends to come for a barbecue, and it was the last thing he wanted right now.
He was already a bit peeved that his mother didn’t ask him first because he would have very clearly told her that he wasn’t in the mood to entertain people, to answer questions, and talk about baseball for a good five hours.
When Harry opens the back door, Easton’s already awake and smiling at his father with a gummy smile, his two bottom baby teeth made him look so adorable but he knew that more were going to popping through soon.
”Hi, sweetheart,” Harry hums softly as he unbuckles his baby, bringing him up into his arms and into a hug, kissing his temple, “I love you so much, you know that? M’only away so that you have everythin’ you’d ever want. Miss you every second-“
A smack comes heartily on his back, right on his throwing shoulder where the soreness is radiating like a motherfucker, and he has to grit his teeth to not curse and startle Easton.
”Buddy, how much did this ride cost ya?” His Uncle Chuck, his mom’s brother asks obnoxiously, “Saw these things were going for a hundred and some change?”
Harry takes a deep breath, his patience was wearing thin, and he had barely made it out of the car, “I don’t remember how much it cost.”
“That’s what being rich gets you, huh? Twenty-one with a fat bank account and no responsibilities. I would have loved to have a life like yours,” Chuck chortles as he leans up against said expensive SUV, beer in his hand.
“I have plenty of fuckin’ responsibilities,” Harry bites back, scolding himself for cursing in from of Easton, even if he was too young to understand, he tried not to make it a habit.
“Sure you do, bud,” His uncle laughs, clearly not catching onto Harry’s mood, “Last thing I’d want is a baby with everything that you have going on. Growing up too fast.”
“Luckily, it’s not your life,” Harry brushes him off, picking up Easton’s diaper bag on his free shoulder and hikes him up, “We’ll be in soon. Give us a minute.”
His uncle shrugs before staggering off, a drunken sway in his step as he stumbles back towards the house.
Harry buries his nose in Easton’s downy, fresh smelling wispy curls to steady his breathing, he feels a bit emotional as he talks to his son.
“M’sorry, East. Daddy doesn’t feel good right now,” Harry swallows hard, squeezing his eyes shut, “I just have to pull it together. God, I love you. My baby.”
Harry gives himself another minute of grounding before taking a deep exhale and shutting the door, walking towards the house.
Everyone was on the back patio, sipping on drinks, and cheering when they saw him.
Dread settles heavy in Harry’s stomach as his family members as they start asking him about his games, wanting to recap every play he’s made, his sponsorships and his much he’s getting paid.
Harry’s trying to keep up the conversation but all he can think about is how much he didn’t want to be there, and he should have just taken Easton to the park or something more low-key.
When he bumps into his mom in the kitchen, Anne is prepping a salad and smiles back at her son - unaware of his mood.
“Isn’t this fun, hun?” Anne asks happily, sprinkling in some spices as she hums.
“Why couldn’t it have just been us? I have to be around people all the time and I thought it was just going to be you. Now I have to entertain all of them,” Harry’s tone definitely takes her aback as she puts down the tongs she was using.
“Usually you love when everyone’s here, I don’t understand,” Anne’s smile drops, wiping her hands on the dishrag.
“Does anybody ever consider that I don’t love talking about baseball every second of the day or how much money is in my bank account?” Harry’s tone is venomous and resentful, unfairly harsh on his mom when she hadn’t tried to upset him.
“Harr-“ Anne begins to apologize, albeit, a bit confused.
“Easton’s almost ready for a nap,” He cuts her off as he checks his watch, it didn’t really matter what time it was, he was done.
“My bedroom-“
“No, I’m going home,” Harry shakes his head, turning on his heel. He has the decency to look back and say, “Sorry, mom. I just can’t be here.”
Easton was currently being held by his Aunt Jane, he was starting to fuss because he had a bottle not too long ago and he was starting to get cranky.
“Alright, we’re going to head out. East needs his nap,” Harry announces, hiking on the diaper bag, and starting to walk over.
“Oh, we barely see him! Just a few more minutes with this little one. You can hold off his nap for a little!” His Aunt Jane jokingly holds him tighter for a minute and nothing right now is funny to Harry.
Harry doesn’t get loud but his voice gets steely as he reaches down and scoops Easton up from her lap, “Don’t tell me how to take care of my baby, understood?”
His poor aunt is taken aback, just like his mom, and nods.
Harry storms out without another glance back, ignoring the whispers about how odd he was acting and rude.
When he straps Easton in, the dark bubble in belly subsides for a moment- like sun breaking through storm clouds.
“Daaa,” Easton coos, happy but tired, tucking his binky back between his lips.
“Good job, baby,” Harry sniffles, blinking up towards the sky to keep the tears away, “Fuck, get it together.”
Harry had to pepper at least ten kisses on Easton’s warm, sleepy face before he’s able to close the door and get in the driver’s seat.
Harry presses on the console touch screen, calling YN, and he frowns when it goes straight to voicemail which was very unlike her.
He tries again.
Voicemail.
He pulls out his phone, trying to check her location, and it hasn’t updated in the past hour - it was just unusual for her phone to die, always on standby but he tries not to worry.
YN was probably still very pissed off at him, if he was to bet, she put her phone on ‘do not disturb’ so that she could take a well deserved nap and not be bothered.
Harry squeezes the steering wheel, reminding himself once again, “Pull yourself together.”
But in the back of his mind, an anxious thought pops in, well multiple.
What is YN is leaving you?
What if she’s sick of not having you around as much as other wives have their husbands?
First time you see her in a week and you treat her like shit. You really think she’ll stay?
Harry has never once thought like that, even when they’ve gotten in serious fights but god damn, he couldn’t stop his mind from going a million miles a minute, and it felt like shit.
Nothing was wrong.
Everything felt like it’s crumbling.
399 notes · View notes
aritsukemo · 11 days ago
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The Oddities of Human Nature | Kabukimono
Kabukimono x Feminine Male Reader
Warnings: Wooo, where do we start? Major character death ( Reader ), implied suicide ( It's up in arms, but there are hints in the fic that reader may have drowned themselves in a lake ), self harm implied, sexual assault is loosely referenced ( only one sentence mentions it and I don't go into detail at all as to not trigger anyone ), themes of depression is referenced all throughout this fic, lots of blood is mentioned towards the end and I go into depth ( or try to ) in describing death so gore warning, the timeline is all fucked up but for the sake of the fic making sense, this takes place before Wanderer's three betrayals, reader uses they/him pronouns, finally, long story ( around 10k words ) under the cut. With all that said, happy reading!
A/N: This was a big hill for me to cross, but I'm glad I managed to do it! I juggled a lot of elements that I'm not familiar with so I'm sorry if this is all over the place. That aside, I found that a lot of the songs I listened while I was writing matched this fic pretty well! ( ..I also realized out that I maaaayyy have spilled a a little bit of myself and my personal struggles into Y/n, but don't read into that too much, okay? Okay. ) This fic is on the darker side of what I normally write, but I hope all who peep will enjoy themselves! :D ...Now I'ma go finish this finals project I got before I fuck up my grade-
Tagging: @nursedflowers / @kazusys, and @saioratral
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Humans are odd creatures. They do things that may otherwise inconvenience them for absolutely no reason.
They could have a broken leg, but will still find the time to entertain friends by going out. They could be holed up in their room doing important work, but will still stop and greet their beloved when they arrive home. They could stumble upon a body in a lake and still fish it out and attempt to resuscitate it. It's strange, but what's even stranger are those humans. You know, the ones who would do things like that for a complete stranger without batting an eye.
"Are you alright?" A soft chirp echoed—one like a feather that surprisingly didn't get swept away by the harsh winds.
It was nothing like her voice.
Upon looking up, indigo hues fill with intricate floral patterns weaved delicately in a circle. Its varying colors twist and intertwine, filling the circle and providing shade and leaving those who fall under it to marvel at its beauty—which didn't soil or gray despite the downpour of rain that hit it.
That said, having been completely consumed in the art of the umbrella, it took another soft call to snap out of the trance..only to be sucked right back into it upon gazing up.
 "I noticed that you have been sitting in the rain for quite some time now. That isn't healthy, you know?" Their voice matched their features; smooth like a porcelain doll, but not nearly as tough as one; gentle, just like the silk that covered their body.
 "Do you have nowhere to go?" Upon hearing the question, the boy’s lips—which were formerly tucked into a neat line—dipped. It was unnoticeable against his pale skin, but the tender eyes that stared down at him seemed to be sharp like a hawks' and noticed it right away.
 "I suppose that means yes."
Their hand reached out to him after saying that and he found himself leaning away instinctively, making him susceptible to the sky's sorrow which drowned his already slick hair in even more chilling rain.
He's immediately saved again, and this time, he was able to watch his savior in action as they tilt their hand, tilting their gorgeous artwork forward enough to completely shield him again albeit at the cost of their own protection.
The rain took pleasure in dousing their hair, deepening it's color a little from the sheer amount it intakes. Ultimately, it's unable to take all of it and falls down on all sides, dripping down their skin, their eyelashes, nose, and lips, to where all the water meets at a point at their chin and drops from it to the wet soil at their feet like a leaky faucet.
Nevertheless, he watched a smile stretch across their face. A sight that he had begun to believe could only look so beautiful on a wandering snow spirit.
 "Please, young sir. Come with me. I have a place that could shield the both of us from the rain for the night.."
And in a trance, he—though tentatively—reaches forward and puts his hand in theirs. The warmth that touched him in that moment immediately shattered the illusion that hypnotized him and he blinks upon finding himself being tugged along by the hand. It brought on a perplexed swirl in the abyss he called a stomach and spurred him to ask the golden question, "Why are you doing this?"
And that question earned him another golden smile, unfortunately only for a quick second when they glanced back at him. It was never answered, and despite that, it didn't bother him.
Nothing did in that moment as the only thing he could focus on was the heat that spread throughout his hand which radiated from their palm.
Humans are odd creatures. They go against the purposes given to them at birth for the simplest reasons.
 "You're a man?" Was the question that filled the silence, his words filled with his almost accusing tone at the face of their casual confession.
You didn't mind, putting on the smile of a saint as tanzanite hues scrutinize and judge you as if you were some complex painting in a museum.
 "Yes, I am," You answered simply, and he once again, eyes you up and down with eyes full of disbelief. As if you had just revealed that you had a second head or something. You weren't offended. Compared to the other stares you've been given in the past, his seemed rather merciful.
 "Why do you dress like that if you're a boy?" He asks after a while; another rather offensive question that he asks with utmost innocence.
 "Because it makes me feel nice," You reply simply, and to that, your new friend looked utterly perplexed. As if you had just given him intricate, complex instructions on how to defeat the shogunate. From that reaction, you assume he was probably raised in a rather conformist household.
That said, his genuine confusion felt like a breath of cool air hitting your face after venturing days in a scorching desert, as sad as that is to admit.
 "Where are your weapons? Your armor? Your mannerisms and speech let me know you come from a noble home, so where are your servants and concubine? What do you do for work?" He shot out questions as if he only had a few grains of sand left in his hourglass. It was like he feared that if he didn't ask all his questions now—and all at once—he'd never get an answer to them. Not that you'd be so cruel as to leave your curious new acquaintance so bewildered.
"I'm sorry to disappoint, but I don't have any such means of protection," You start off slowly, but as your eyes trail down at the two needles in your slender hands—needles which had thin threads of silk woven around the points of them—you found yourself chuckling to yourself, "Though if you'd ask my father, he'd tell you that my reason for that is because I lack the determination and courage to tread the path of a proper warrior — He was a high-ranking samurai for the majority of my youth, you see.."
"As for the servants and..consorts…they're really not my thing. I find bossing someone around and using people to flaunt my own status and wealth to be rather brutish. Though, I will admit I'm quite familiar with the practices. Heh, I was practically raised by my fathers' wives and female servants growing up. Maybe that's why.."
You pause, and in the end, you shake your thought away instead of voicing the rest of it aloud. It wasn't important to the conversation at hand anyways.
 "Digressing from that, my ways of making money aren't as noble as my family's either. In fact, one would say it's quite pitiful in comparison; once a week, I go out into the nearby town and I sell my creations. Stuffed animals, knitted clothing, excess crops, and the like. I don't make all the money in the world, but I make more than enough to get by as you can see," And you flick your wrist absentmindedly at one of the corners of your room, mindlessly gesturing at whatever filled the space to better prove your point.
Your guest had been struck silent once again. It seemed he was still rather muddled. You understand it. Like many you've encountered, you were probably an enigma to him, one willing to go against all that has been taught and practiced for centuries just because of simple ideations and pleasures that someone such as yourself should never enjoy in the first place.
..Or so you thought. As you gazed up at your guest, his face made you unsure of what he was truly thinking at that moment. It was something you hadn't seen before—unlike those judge-filled, disgusted, and even pitiful gazes you had been given by many in the past. It sparked your curiosity, causing you to ask him the golden question that had laid dormant at the back of your mind.
 "Does any of this.. Do I bother you?"
His response came delayed, but you found his answer that came more valuable than actual gold. More relieving than any cool breeze or sweet treat. More rewarding than any war won or title granted. More comforting than any of the stormy nights that distracted you from your whirlwind of thoughts.
And, oddly enough, such a response was quite simple. Only three words, in fact.
 "Not at all."
Humans are odd creatures, but they can be patient and forgiving at times. Plus, being the warm-blooded creatures that are allows them the blessing of a naturally-warm, comfortable body.
 "Crap," The cursed utterance left the lips of a mouth who's felt nothing but the bitter tang of frustration coat its tongue all afternoon. The uncivilized profanity did nothing to soothe the taste in his mouth nor did it smoothen out the crinkles made by his furrowed brows. It didn't even relieve the tremble of anger in his blood-pricked hands or the aggression of his movements as his fingertips worked a string of tangles with the needles he was holding.
Knitting is awful. How do people find this relaxing? Ever since he's started, he's felt nothing but vexation, pain, and embarrassment! Not only that, but he's made zero progress after so long that he's practically forgotten what he was supposed to be making in the first place! He hates—no, despises this with his entire being!
 "Having a bit of trouble?" He heard you ask, and somehow, half of his stress fell away like a slab of rock on the side of a mountain just from hearing your voice. He doesn't get why you have such powers over him seeming as you're a complete stranger. ..Was your voice charmed by some kind of magic perhaps? Were you possibly a god in disguise?
Whatever the reason was, he found himself praying that you never stop talking if he were to ever find out.
 "Here, let me show you a trick," Your breath was fanning his ear before he knew it and your skin was warming his shortly afterwards. He froze in place, still and quiet unlike the noisy rainwater he can hear descending from the skies outside—the rain that has kept him trapped here for literal days now.
He's not complaining.
It was only when your palms found place against the back of his hands that his body relaxed. Your hands were soft unlike the many generals and the blacksmiths he had met before his forced abandonment of his previous life. It felt nice. As if flower petals were cradling his hands.
You smelt just as good as a flower too. He had never been this close to you before so he hadn't noticed it, but now that his back is to you like this..it was as if he was laying in a flowerbed.
Do men always smell this good? He doubts it. Most likely, this scent was completely unique. A fragrance only you could naturally produce. Archons does he wish—
 "—and that's how you do it," He blinks, snapping back to reality where he stares down at the cloth now weaved together with expert precision to form a bunny's ear.
You had helped him make a breakthrough at last..and he had been too busy daydreaming about how it would feel to be hugged by you to watch and learn how you even did it.
..But he doesn't feel regret looming when the realization comes nor does his annoyance return. Or maybe it has and it just hasn't set in yet. He can't tell right now, not when he's feeling as if he had just been warmed by the sun after being frozen for a millennia.
 "Alright, now you try," He hears your words, but they don't process as fast as your hands leaving him does. Nothing really processes quicker than that. Not his frown. Not his disappointment. Not anything.
But not processing something doesn't make it unclear to others. Upon seeing his downcast expression, your brows quirk up in confusion.
 "Is there something on your mind, my new friend?" You inquired, but your question is never answered. Instead, you watch as his saddened eyes turn owlish and his head spins in the opposite direction of you as he mutters something under his breath.
 "I'm sorry, but can you repeat that?" You asked softly, leaning closer in order to hear him better.
 "Can you..show me how to do that again. Please.." He repeated, and in doing so earned the harmonious gift that was your chuckle and the warmth of your hands on him once again.
 "Sure. So what you do is.."
Humans are odd creatures. They'd sacrifice countless hours of their already short life, go to ridiculous lengths doing things, and even put aside their fragile well being to do things that are completely irrelevant just because of their belief that what they do will make someone happy.
 "I'm back!" The sweet chirp of your new housemate—which you and the villagers of the neighboring town have begun to call Kabukimono— echoed through the small abode of your now shared home after not having the pleasure to in about three days or so.
After moving in a week prior, Kabukimono had been adamant on pulling his own weight to prove that he was worth keeping around despite you having the compassion to allow him to be a freeloader otherwise. That said, after your own clumsiness in the field left you with a sprained ankle, your kind new friend had offered to go out and sell all of this week’s goods on your behalf and how could you refuse such an offer when he looked so happy and eager to help out little ol' you?
Well, the real answer to that was that he gave you no choice in the matter, but you digress.
 "I'm in here," He heard you call from the kitchen and he immediately set off in that direction, just barely remembering to slip off his shoes at the door from how eager he was to see you.
If it wasn't obvious already, it had taken some time—both the journey to and from the village and the actual process of conversing with people and getting them to buy everything—but he believes he did pretty good. At the very least, everything was sold. He even managed to make enough to buy you something with some of the excess money!
 "Y/n! I got—! ..Huh?" His words died as quickly as his pace as he stilled to a full halt at the entryway. His eyes grew wide bit by bit as he took everything in.
Banners of silk and thread had been strung along the walls, flashing their abstract patterns of blue and purple at anyone who'd spare a glance. Candles—which are usually set alight atop your nightstand and bookshelf in our room—now clumped and coddled on the table like one big sun with the varying foods surrounding them posing as the stars that helped light up the wooden sky they sat on.
But such a beautiful display was only given a moment's glance as Kabukimono seemed more interested in what you thought was a less-than-average sight; yourself.
Nevertheless, the adoration you felt seeing the sparkle of surprise in his eyes—even if for only a second or so—made you crack a smile as you recited the line you had gone over just about a million times during the time you spent waiting for him to arrive.
 "Welcome home, Kabukimono."
He was at a loss for words and not for the reason you wanted him to be. With the intent of easing his perturbed shock, you walked towards him, steady and slow, but all that proved to do was snap him out of the spell your heavy eyebags and dreary, drooping eyes had put him under.
 "What is all of this? And more importantly, why are you standing? You're not supposed to be putting pressure on that ankle!" He quickly met you the rest of the way, and to your dismay, he had beat you to the comforting, his hands shooting out to grip you by the hips and ease your bandaged leg of your body's weight.
Ignoring his other questions, you began explaining, telling him, "It's a celebration feast. You told me yourself that you, along with not having a name, you haven’t had a home to call yours yet. I thought it would be good to make an occasion out of you finding one at last."
Kabukimono felt bad to admit this even in his own head, but your words were going in one ear and out the other. Yes, he had asked, but you weren't giving him answers to the other questions he simply found more important at the moment, and because of that, it caused his face to look rather tense. Certainly not cheery like you had hoped.
It seems you have made a mistake. It wasn't a surprise, it was you after all, but the thought still hurt considering how much time it took preparing for this moment.
And so, in an attempt to lighten your thoughts and the overall mood, you ask him, "Aren't you happy?"
And unfortunately, your dear housemate didn't answer in the way you had wished he would, instead replying with, "Why would I? You look like you're about to drop dead!"
 "I'm fine," You said; a futile attempt of reassurance when you probably looked like a Sumerian Akademiya student who just finished pulling an all-nighter to write a one-hundred page research paper.
 "As if!" Kabukimono said. That's when he slung your arm over his shoulder, forcing your bodyweight onto him without your permission, and began trudging you along in the direction of your room.
 "What're you doing—" "Taking you to your room so you can lie down like you probably haven't been doing!"
 "Seriously, you should take better care of yourself! Don't tell me this is normal for you.. If it is, I won't be able to let you out of my sight from now on!"
In the end, both the feast and Kabukimono's gift for you had been forgotten. Even though you ended up enjoying it later, your sadness about the initial surprise being ruined was hard to get over even with the delight of a new hairpin being added to your collection..
Humans are odd creatures. Their inability to do much makes them become overawed by the simplest things. Their eyes shine just from seeing a coin flipped in an unorthodox way and they clap and gasp watching the stars twinkle overhead. It’s so nice to see stupid.
 “You know how to dance?” The excitable question left your usually composed lips as you stared at Kabukimono with stars in your eyes.
 “Well...I used to perform sword dances so I suppose yes,” He clarifies, arms crossed as he stared off at the wall to his left with full interest. His azure eyes darkened as if someone had pulled wool over them only to light up like a room to an oil lamp at the question that followed his response.
 “Can you show me?” The way you asked him reminded him of a little kid asking their mother to buy them a toy; full of innocent expectancy. It made his lips thin into a line just hearing it.
It had been ages since he’s danced, and in the past, there weren’t many who gawked at or praised him for his moves. Not his mother. Not any of her servants or soldiers. Certainly not her familiar. At the time, he hadn’t cared about their reactions much at all, seeming as the purpose of his dancing wasn’t for frivolous entertainment, but you, however, were different. You weren’t his mother who had abandoned him. You weren’t the servants or soldiers who never spoke to him. You aren’t his mother’s glaring familiar. You’re you, and the thought of seeing such a lackluster expression painted on your face puts a bad taste in his mouth. It makes him gnaw at his bottom lip from the feeling of a wave rocking unsteadily in his stomach cavity. It made him feel..anxious.
 “Ah..” His mouth felt like chalk—uncomfortably dry—as he spoke and his eyes couldn’t remove themselves from the walls he was surely burning holes into with his nervous glare as he tried to find something—anything—to refute you. He, at last, does and sputters it out in an uneven tone, “But..you aren’t going into battle though.”
You hum in acknowledgement, and for a moment, he thought he could successfully negate you from the topic, but then your lips move to say, “Sword dances are to summon strength, right? Though they’re performed for battles, war isn’t the only thing that requires strength. Farming, cooking.. Even getting out of bed in the mornings needs some strength to complete. When put in that way, don’t you think I’m in need of just as much strength as one of the Shogunate’s men?”
 “We- Well, a typical sword dance requires a sword and a fan and we don’t have anything like that lying around the house,” He shoots out. His brows knitting at the odd feeling of his skin damp with moisture he wasn’t aware he could produce before now.
 “I do have a fan,” You retort, “It’s mainly preserved for hot weather, but it'd be perfect for this occasion! And for the sword..ah! Would a wooden stilt suffice? It’s a little longer than the typical sword, but if I were to shave it down a bit..”
 “I..” He looks at you, face uncharacteristically spooked as he repeats himself, sounding like a broken record at this point, “I.. I..” but you don’t pay it much mind as your excitement gets the better of you and you chalk up his reaction as pre-performance jitters before running to find the items needed, leaving Kabukimono no choice but to watch helplessly like some baby kitten.
In the matter of an hour, he was outside. His body donning one of your many creations while holding a summer fan and wooden stick that didn’t come close to matching anything he was wearing. You—smile etched on your face despite feeling as though you were being stabbed all over—sat a little aways from him on the white cushions that had completely covered the green grass, patiently yet eagerly awaiting for the invisible curtains to rise and for his feet to begin to move.
Despite the biting cold, his hands were slick with sweat, forcing him to grip the wood and fan with inhumane force as to not drop it. His breath came out thick and labored, freezing over immediately upon leaving his lips and ultimately coming out as puffy, white clouds. His only saving grace here was that his feet were firmly planted into the dirt circle you paved out just for his little show. It was even rid of the transparent icy layer; an astonishing feat to be done in so little time.
Even from where he stood, he could see the reddening of your face and hands. The slight tremble of your limbs.. You were freezing to death, that much was certain, but you didn’t care. That’s just how adamant you were to see him perform.
And so, feeling as though he had no other choice, he began. His feet started to glide, starting slow as did his arms—languid and mesmerizing—before it began to pick up just a little whenever he’d twirl or spin or hop. He was sure his movements were sloppy, that his improvision to the original dance he was taught shone through like a stain to white cloth..but as he snuck a glance your way, he found himself uncaring.
..Because the way you looked at him was as if you were gazing up at a god who had just saved your life; amazement brightened your hues like comets in the sky as you followed his every move, utterly enraptured by him. He had managed to evoke that from you. Only him.
Ironically, he had found he himself charmed by your expression and microexpressions. Completely hypnotized as he slid and flowed around the small circle, his clothing–the clothing you had gifted to him—fluttering like angel wings which only further added to the beauty of each swing he took with the stick.
But alas, as the dance went on, Kabukimono found himself going into autopilot. Simply going about the motions as he took every chance possibly to glance your way, his eyes like a distant memory—a past life—whenever they locked with yours..
Humans are odd creatures. Deceptive by nature too. Without a perceptive gaze and trained ears to catch onto their lies, they could make you believe anything as the truth.
 "Hey, Kabukimono, could you pass me the carrots I cut up over there?" You asked, using your head to gesture over in the direction of where you had left the cut carrots on the low table. Kabukimono jumped to your request; crossing the kitchen, picking up the bowl, and walking back over to where you sat comfortably at the kotatsu in record time.
He hands it to you, and with a flick of your wrists, the orange delicacies had joined the rest of the vegetables in the boiling pot on the table. Kabukimono sits back on his knees as you do this, taking comfort in propping his elbow up on the wooden surface before laying his head on his fist as he watches the slow travel of white steam erupt from the pot into the air. His eyes like staring on like a dormant beast at the boiling vegetables crackling as he sighs dreamily at the smell of heaven they produce.
He didn't need to eat. He had told you that at some point in time along with other things, and yet, you had somehow trained him to yearn for food regardless—to salivate when he saw a tasty-looking dish and even grow excited at the thought of what to cook for dinner. It was such a mundane thing that was once so foreign to him. Such a human pleasure and yet he so eagerly partook in it regardless. All because of you. All for you.
Another thing he does because of you now is small talk. Before, if there were silence between him and another person he'd embrace it without a second thought and wouldn't leave that comfort unless forced to—and even then, only a select few would actually elicit a response from him. Nowadays though, it seems he grows quite restless whenever words aren't filling the air. Though, this applied more so with you than anyone else.
 "How did it go in town?" He asked, "You were selling those new cat-shaped stuffed toys you worked yourself ragged making..so? Did anybody like them?"
To such a simple question, your reaction was bewildering. The way your grip tightened on the ladle, the narrowing of your eyes and brows, the tut of your lip.. It all gave a bad vibe.
And so he frowned and asked, "Did they not like them after all? ..Or did something—"
 "It's nothing," And you presented him a closed-eyed smile, both your expression and your grip on the ladle relaxing as you went on to further say, "I just..thought about this girl I met at the villager. I assume she was an orphan from her attire and the way she followed me around without a care.. Anyways, she ended up tripping and hurting her knee pretty badly so I gave her one of the cat plushies, free of charge.”
 "Anyways, the food is ready so let's drop this topic. After all, we don't want it to get cold," The topic changed as suddenly as it came. Odd, seeming as how you're usually rambling all afternoon and evening about your travel to the village, sparing absolutely no detail about even the tiniest things.
The thought lingered for a time, but as he watched you stuff your mouth and saw your eyes shine joyously at the wonderful flavor that coated your tongue as you began to ramble about your relief about the dish turning out good despite this being your first time trying out the recipe, that thought eventually fluttered away with the wind that came through the crack in your sliding doors that allowed more of the evening oranges and yellows to seep into your home.
You were probably just really hungry and eager to eat, he thought as he finally took a bite of the potato he had picked up with his chopsticks, his eyes closing as he hummed out in delight at the taste.
Unbeknownst to him, your face dropped as soon as his eyes closed, your eyes uncharacteristically fogged and dull, as if it were displaying the thick fog that shrouded your mind, your thoughts, your heart. It was a fog that Kabukimono never caught on to, blissfully unaware of what stained your mind, body, and soul.
Humans are odd creatures. Their outside appearance never matches how they feel or the thoughts that poison their mind. They never voice those thoughts either, making it impossible to guess what’s truly going on with them. There are some who’d bless you with a morsel of their inner world—give you a crumb of the turmoil that constantly leaks in their head—making you feel as though you’ve truly come to understand them when in reality, you haven’t even scratched the surface.
It was the middle of the night. The once navy blue sky that had overcasted the world when the sun first fell was now dark due to even the stars going into hiding to slumber, leaving the moon as the only beacon of light to shed away the shadows. It was pitch black everywhere you turned and cicadas buzzed loudly outside, likely complaining about the sweltering heat of the summer, making it impossible to even hear yourself think. It was like some mundane hell.
So why were you out here?
It happened by chance. He had heard some odd noises and went to investigate it. Not expecting to see a silhouette walking out of the door. Thinking it was some thief, he followed after the person, and as the sounds of the cicadas grew distant and an earthy smell invaded his nostrils, the silhouette became less and less obscure. Becoming as clear as day by the time the person had reached their destination.
That person was you.
 “..What is this place?” The question came tumbling out before he could stop himself, his words loudly piercing the quiet of the night. It alerts you of his presence at long last and has your head spinning in his direction.
 “Oh.. It’s just you, Kabukimono’.. Heh, you scared me,” You said. Your head turns forward once again as you force your shoulders to relax, allowing the basket on your back to slide down your arms and to the ground. As you slowly set yourself atop the gentle grass, Kabukimono takes a step forward. Then another, and another, until he’s right beside you, who was digging for the items in the basket.
After a moment of silence allows you to, at last, gather everything needed out of the basket, Kabukimono decides to ask his question once again..or he planned to. As he opens his mouth to let his words free, your voice breaks the silence.
 “There used to be a small village here,” You told him, your hands beginning to twist two long stocks together, “If you go the opposite way of the path we usually tread, you can still find the remnants of what it used to be.”
 “The village's main source used to be this lake. Everyone relied on it for everything. To drink, to cook, to bathe.. Even some of the oddest ways of entertainment came from here..” You laughed, but it was drier than any desert depicted in the novels in your room. It felt wrong to hear—kinda like hearing a baby’s cry come from a grown man—and it felt almost unnerving to have it come from someone like you, who he’s come to associate with the sun itself.
But you were probably really tired. Looking at you, the deep bags that hang your eyelids down indicates you probably haven’t gotten much sleep lately which makes sense seeming as you’ve been running around and, as you told him, ‘preparing’ for something really important.
He wonders what it is you’re preparing for. Whenever he’d ask, he’d never get an answer..
 “This lake, though bound by the earth to this one place, saved that village so many times that the townsfolk began to believe that some powerful being was secretly living in the depths of it and protecting them. They began to idolize it, nurture and take care of it, and spoke about it as if this little lake was some otherworldly deity which created tall tales and legends that they’d go on to tell their children…believe it or not, I once took part in such absurdity.”
 “So..what happened to the village?” Kabukimono hesitates to ask. After all, the obvious context clues pointed him in a tragic direction, but he couldn’t resist his own curiosity in the end. Not when the look in your eyes—that were lit by the lantern of the water’s ripples—reflected nothing but pure sorrow.
At his question, you took a glance his way. As you broke away from the lake that practically glowed in the moonlight, your eyes were stripped of the illuminating gleam of the waves and casted into the darkness of the night. In fact, if it weren’t for the lake, he probably wouldn’t have been able to see your face at all.
Part of him wished that had happened. If it did, he wouldn’t have been forced to stare into the abyss that had overtook your hues for those small handful of seconds.
 “The lake failed them,” You finally spoke shortly after returning your gaze to the water, “A fire of unknown origins enveloped it in the dead of night. It wiped out half the village and forced the other half to flee for safety..some of which came to me, who lived on the outskirts of town.”
 “No one knew how it started. After all, fire wasn’t anywhere close to being the most accessible resource they had. It was a luxury, even. It also never spread past the village and by sunrise, it ceased to exist altogether. The oddity of the situation made the survivors believe that it was some punishment from their lake deity,” As you went on, you had been weaving the strands until one end had connected to the other in a circle—though your sloppy craftsmanship caused it to look more like an oval in your opinion.
As eyesore of a sight it was, you persisted. Your hands reach for the clipped flowers beside you, "That thought clouded their minds and the thought of disappointing their all-forgiving god drove them mad,” Kabukimono watched as you spoke, sticking flowers in one by one and twisting it into the circle, making the dank green pop with each pristine white you carefully placed around it.
 “Convinced that it was their fault everything was lost, the surviving villagers went about the rest of their days repenting by praying to the lake from sun up to sun down...until the waters rose and they disappeared while being enveloped by the deity's embrace."
The story seemed like something straight out of a fairytale. Nonsensical like a myth that he usually wouldn't believe...but the same could be said about his very existence. With that in mind, who is he to be so narrow-minded? He decided to keep his thoughts to himself, locking them tight behind his lips as you continued.
 "The lake failed them. It made a fatal mistake. Saved not one villager from that fire, yet nothing changed. Not their love nor their devotion..if anything it only made them see this lake in an even more divine light...so why didn't the same happen for me?"
The tail end of your sentence made him perk up with unease and as his brows knitted together, Kabukimono opens his mouth as he worriedly asked—or rather, attempted to ask, “What do you mean—” but you shifted the topic faster than he could get the full sentence out.
 “ Do you remember the tales I would tell you about my childhood—my brother specifically? ..I ran into him some time ago while I was out selling in the village.”
 “Whether they wanted to seize from me the goods I was selling that day—or perhaps mistook me for a woman and wanted to have their fun with me as some men have in the past—they began harassing me quite aggressively,” You started, “They bothered me for quite awhile and grew progressively violent the more I tried to politely get them to leave me be—one of them even snatched me up by the wrist. That’s when he intervened.”
 “He didn’t recognize me, not that I’d expect him to. After all, I’ve changed a lot since we were kids..and it seems the same went for him as well,” After placing all the whites of innocence, you went on to grab your smaller, yellow sundrops, your hands meticulously working them in between the white flowers as you continued talking in a cheerful tone. 
 “Though it’s only been a decade or so since I’d last seen or spoken to him, he’s already been through so much. He told me himself, you see, that he had just returned from the war and was passing through villages trying to find a suitable gift.. Can you guess for what?”
 “I don’t know..maybe your parents?” Kabukimono guessed; the wrong answer. You didn’t give him another chance to theorize.
 “It was for his wife and daughter,” You corrected, and if once wasn’t enough, you repeat yourself, “He was returning home to his wife and four year old daughter and wanted to get them something special.”
Gaining the courage once again, Kabukimono attempted to question the point of this conversation in the first place by asking, “What’s wrong with that?” He grew hopeful at first when you allowed him to get his words out. Maybe, at last, he could get his questions answered, he thought.
He thought wrong.
 “He’s really tall now, you know? —I mean, he was always taller than me, but now he’s like a tree! When we spoke face to face, I had to crane my neck all the way back to look up at him,” His question is, once again, ignored as if he never asked it. He began to frown, not liking the thought of you possibly ignoring him, but that crease in his skin quickly grew less prominent when he caught a glimpse of your joyful smile.
 “He’s also got big muscles and a handsome smile,” You add, “That paired with his headstrong, chivalric nature..I’m not surprised that he’s made a name for himself and started a family in such a short time,” Your voice then drops to a murmur as you turn you creation left then right, inspecting it as said, “In only a small handful of years, he’s achieved someone’s dream and so much more.. He’s managed to exceed even the impossible and make everyone proud..he’s truly amazing..”
You grasp at pink petals—deteriorated by the chilling weather—as you fit them as you see fit. Filling in each space like a piece of a puzzle.
 “That encounter made me think back to the lake. It made me realize how similar we are. We’re both fragile and delicate and were surrounded by people who’d still expect us to give away our bones despite already relinquishing our flesh and blood…so what went wrong with me?”
 “Wh.. What?” He stammered. You lift your handiwork into the air, presenting it to the moon for judgement before you finally repeat yourself..
 “What went wrong? I made mistakes just like the lake, so why wasn’t I given the benefit of the doubt? Why did my family–my father–abandon me?”
Abandon. That word stuck to him like a burn to his skin and it felt as if he had just opened his eyes for the first time in a century. It made him realize all the little things at last; how tense the air was, how dim your eyes were, how often your brows twitched, how your eyes seemed like glass balls, how forced your smile seemed.. The illusion he had absorbed himself shattered in that instant, allowing reality to set in like a heavy weight. The person who sat beside him, the one who he’s come to view as the sun that brightened up his day, had looked so different in that moment that he could mistake them for an entirely different person. Did they always look like that? If so, for how long? How long has his sun been this dim? And why didn’t he notice it sooner?
 “I’m sorry, that was cruel of me to ask you that,” You profess in a raspy whisper before turning to him, plopping the finished product—a tri-colored flower crown—atop his head as you mutter, “There’s no way you can answer that.. It was my mistake..”
Kabukimono blinks, his eyes looking up as he tries to peer at the crown to no avail. It was like watching a kitten play with a toy; adorable. Kabukimono didn’t catch it, but upon seeing such a cute sight, you bit down on your bottom lip as your eyes narrowed—damn nea glaring—his way. Luckily, you catch yourself before he notices, trying to laugh it off as you look over at the lake once more. Though your laugh was even drier than the previous one that left your lips and came tumbling out of your mouth like gravel.
 “You know, you remind me so much of my brother,” You said, “You have so much potential to live whatever life you want, to make everyone happy and still keep yourself intact..I almost envy you.”
Kabukimono—hands delicately tracing the rim of the flower crown on his head—grimaced at your comment. Envy. Such a negative feeling to harbor towards him and for no reason at all. After all, he’s nothing special. If he was, surely she wouldn’t have discarded him and left him to rot alone. Alas, before he can tell you that, you started rambling again.
 “I used to make mistakes all the time when I was younger. Especially with swords,” You told him, though it looked more like you were talking to the lake at your knees by the way you were so intently gazing at it, “I just couldn’t get the hang of it. That applied to a lot of things my father tried to teach me… Heh, it makes sense why he gave up on trying after my brother was born.”
 “Wh- What are you saying..?” Kabukimono asked. It came out as a hoarse whisper that was easily carried away by the warm winds and far away from your ears. Hence why you continued instead of answering, surely.
 “You asked me once about the story behind how my obsession for knitting came about.. Why I enjoy it so much.. Well, the reason I never told you was because the truth is quite silly in hindsight; it was to apologize to my father.”
 “I felt sorry for him. After all, his oldest son—who was supposed to carry on and lift a weight off his shoulders–was completely hopeless in every way. I truly did feel bad..and so I thought the least I could do was ease his mind—to reassure him that his useless son could do something right.”
 “You shouldn’t talk about yourself like that–” “After keenly watching my mother sew clothes and observing the female servants make clothing they could otherwise not afford, I was able to do something out of these impractical hands..” You held your hands up and kabukimono winces at the sight. They look like the aftermath of an intense fight, scars—some new, some old—littered your skin, some even stained it with the ugly dark crust that forms when the skin begins to heal. Did they always look that way? “Would you like to know what I made?”
 “I– I’m not—” “I made a fox. A tiny little fox attached to a string,” You said, “I thought it would be cute if he would tie it around the hilt of his sword and carry it around — similar to how one would a good luck charm. I was so excited when I finally finished and ran straight to my father's dojo on the far edge of our home to show it to him.”
 “Y/n–” “At the sight of my creation, my father frowned so deeply I thought his face would become permanently creased by it. ‘Is this what you waste your idle time doing?’ he asked me before cutting my little fox to shreds. ‘No wonder you’ve become such a disappointment! You sit around knitting animals instead of dedicating yourself to training!’ he went on to say.”
 “He went to grumbling under his breath after that. He kept his voice low, but I still heard what he said.. Wanna guess? He said—”
 “Y/n, stop!” The sound of shuffling of him as he stumbles to his feet is loud—though small in comparison to the boom of his scream. You pause, surprised albeit you barely show it—or rather, you’re barely able to force yourself to react—only being able to slowly blink his way in the end as you stare up at your darling housemate, who’s pretty eyes had welled up with tears.
 Stop..please..” He pleaded. A sniffle pushing him past the line of embarrassment, causing him to hide his face from you, “I- I beg of you.. Don’t say another word..not if you plan to degrade yourself like this!”
 “..Kabukimono, don’t..—” He hears you call from the other side of the barrier he created between the two of you, but he’s finally quicker, interrupting you for the first time tonight.
 “Your family abandoned you, but that helped you find your way to me,” He choked, “They didn’t see your worth for what it truly was..but that allowed me to! Who cares what they think of you? How they perceive you? They aren’t in your life anymore, I am! So stop talking down on yourself like they are!” With every word that leaves his lips—that seep through the unseen slits between his fingers—Kabukimono seems to crack more and more until he falls apart, collapsing to the ground in a fit of sobs which causes the flower crown to fall ungracefully off his head.
 “I- I’m in your life now, and I don’t care what you’re good or bad at! I don’t have any expectations for you to meet! It doesn’t matter if you don’t meet society’s standards! I don’t care about any of that. I just want to stay by your side! Isn’t that enough? Aren’t I enough?”
 “Kabukimono..” You call. A moment of silence passes and a chime of bells in the form of your choked sobs fill his ears as you snivel, “No.. No, no— I- I'm sorry. Don’t cry, please don’t cry..”
He suddenly feels the warmth of your arms surrounding his kneeled being and he finds himself crying harder to the point every sorrowful yell and sniffle rattled his entire body. You had wrapped your arms around him in an attempt to comfort him, but it was rather pitiful and futile, seeming as you were sobbing yourself, repeating, “Sorry.. I’m so sorry..” over and over like it was your matra.
You two stayed like that; sobbing amongst the serene sound of the water until it drowned you two out altogether. After some time, your loud croaks had been reduced to weak whimpering—though if the reason for that was because your voice grew too hoarse to form proper words or another reason was unclear.
Neither of you cared, or at least, Kabukimono didn’t. All that he cared about was the feeling of being tangled in your arms and the sound of your heartbeat singing in his ear—which he had pressed against your chest.
 “Promise me,” He whispered, his voice rasp, “Promise me that you’ll be honest with me from now on. A- And promise me not to degrade yourself anymore..that you won’t think about the past..all of it. I want you to promise me that you’ll move on..with me,” He clutched at your kimono, crumpling the flowers on it with his grip as he awaited your response with bated breath.
And when you finally did—when you finally mumbled your response and in the exact way he wanted you to—he felt as though the sun had finally come out again, better and brighter than before..
 “I promise.”
Humans are odd creatures. They’re treacherous liars by nature who spew falsehoods for the sake of their own twisted amusement, uncaring of those affected by their games.
 “There was once a small village here. If you go the opposite way of the path we usually tread, you can still find the remnants of what it used to be.”
It’s been two weeks since you left for the village to sell goods. You still hadn’t returned.
It’d usually take no more than a few days for you to sell everything and come home, so after said days had passed and you were nowhere to be seen, he grew worried and—in the end—went to the village in search of you.
..But you weren’t there either. In fact, from what he gathered from asking around, you had left the village days ago.
 “The village's main source used to be this lake. Everyone relied on it for everything. To drink, to cook, to bathe.. Even some of the oddest ways of entertainment came from here..”
You weren’t here at the village, but you weren’t home either..so where had you gone? The question sunk into him, weighing him down like an anchor and causing his stomach cavity to drop. A feeling of dread set over him as he came upon the unsettling realization; you were missing.
Where had you gone? What happened when you left the village a few days ago? Had you been kidnapped? Grown more frantic with each thought that popped into his head, Kabukimono ran around, asking every villager he came across about you until he finally gained a morsel of information—a speckle of hope—when a man mentioned seeing someone that fit your description walk towards the entrance of the village with an empty, woven basket as big as themselves hanging on their back.
And without much thought, he took off in that very direction, heeding the man no mind any longer despite his warnings about the impending storm that was soon to consume the area.
 “This lake, though bound by the earth to this one place, saved that village so many times that the townsfolk began to believe that some powerful being was secretly living in the depths of it and protecting them. They began to idolize it, nurture and take care of it, and spoke about it as if this little lake was some otherworldly deity which created tall tales and legends that they’d go on to tell their children…believe it or not, I took part in such absurdity.”
Kabukimono remained unfazed when the path beneath his feet began to turn dark and slippery, when the graying sky finally shed its tears, when those tears dampened his clothing, not even when he nearly fell into a puddle. All that he could focus on was the possible places you would have gone and why the place you chose wasn’t home where he was.
 “So..what happened to the village?”
 “The lake failed them.”
 “Y/n! Where are you? Can you hear me?” After a while of running with no destination in mind, Kabukimono found it best to call out to you in hopes you’d make your way to him, call his name back, something–anything–that would hint towards you being near.
He raised his voice as high as he could, his voice likely being carried across nations from how loud he was, and yet, he was met with nothing but the deafening sound of thunder roaring to life. It was disheartening, but as he stood amongst the rain, the final wire in his head finally clicked and the memory of you sitting before crystal waters was pushed to the forefront of his mind.
It’s a slim chance, but maybe you had gone there and, for whatever reason, stayed.
In an instant, he was running at full speed once again, steering in the direction his memory remembered best.
 “A fire of unknown origins enveloped it in the dead of night. It wiped out half the village and forced the other half to flee for safety..some of which came to me, who lived on the outskirts of town.”
 “No one knew how it started. After all, fire wasn’t anywhere close to being the most accessible resource they had. It was a luxury, even. It also never spread past the village and by sunrise, it ceased to exist altogether. The oddity of the situation made the survivors believe that it was some punishment from their lake deity.”
 "That thought clouded their minds and the thought of disappointing their all-forgiving god drove them mad..”
He made it to the lake by nightfall—not that he could tell by looking up, seeming as it's been the same color since earlier that afternoon—and as if a light was shining down on it from the sky, the lake gleamed almost magically. Its darkened waters seemed to shine like a ruby even under the thick clouds and he sees the ripples from where he stood in the distance. The waves paving a clear way for him to follow, slowly leading up to the center where he spots something.. 
 “Convinced that it was their fault everything was lost, the surviving villagers went about the rest of their days repenting by praying to the lake from sun up to sun down…”
As he slowly walked closer, familiar strands of hair became noticeable. Though cut into uneven chunks and spread out to be nearly invisible in comparison to the deep red of the water that it floats in, he was sure his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him. That said, he found himself following the strands to the origins of where they once flourished from. His eyes locked on the indistinguishable lump once again and he was sure that it and the reason he came here were unrelated…until something floating beside it caught his eyes.
That something was a hairpin. One with a golden base and purple and red flowers dancing along the edge of it…just like the one he bought you the day you decided to throw him that welcoming party.
 “...until the waters rose and they disappeared while being enveloped by the deity's embrace."
 “Y/n.. Y/n!” Despite the pressure of it dawning on him felt like two boulders falling on his shoulders, Kabukimono rushed into the water and immediately the white clothing that covered his being stained a murky crimson whilst a putrid smell invaded his nostrils. It made him feel sick—nauseated, even—but he did his best to push it all down as he clumsily swam towards the center of the lake.
It wasn’t true. This wasn’t happening. This surely can’t.. What’s floating amongst the water truly isn’t what he thinks it is.
It isn’t you. There’s no way. You made a promise that you still haven’t fulfilled, after all. You wouldn’t break your promise, not someone like you.
After what felt like an eternity, he reaches the center of the lake which he now notices is more of an inky black and only stretches as far as a few rogue strands. He grabs ahold of the lump, sucking in a breath when his fingertips sink in slightly as if pressing against a firm, wet cushion. It felt disgusting. He hesitates, but ultimately squeezes down enough to pull it along even with the sickening slick gushing at the pressure and making his grasp unsteady.
He reaches land at long last, immediately escaping onto the wet grass and tugging the lump out along with him. It looked less like a lump now, and though swole and looking like some abstract art piece, there was no mistaking it. It was flesh. This was a person, or rather, the remains of one..and they looked eerily similar to you even when all blotched and bloody, there was no denying that.
But even if this was you, there’s no way you could be dead. No, that’d be impossible. You have to be asleep. You had to have decided to take a dip in the lake and fell asleep. That’s the only thing that makes sense.
His shaky palms reach out to you and he touches you with his cold, wet hands that were actively getting more and more drenched with every raindrop that fell on them. He gently swept your hair from your face, tucked it tentatively behind your ear, and cupped your cheek.
His breath stutters. It was as if he was touching pure ice. But that can’t be possible. You’re his sun, his light, somebody like you shouldn’t feel like this.
..Well actually, it makes sense. You fell asleep in the water plus it’s raining. Even someone as warm as you would succumb to the cold under these circumstances. It makes sense. It’s okay. He’ll help you warm up in the comfort of your home as soon as he wakes you up.
He slides his hand down your face—past your now oddly grayed lips and down your neck—until he reaches your bare shoulder, which wrinkles had been exposed due to his rough handlings in pulling you out of the water by the drapes of your clothing. He promises to apologize when you awake. Because you will wake up. There’s no doubt. Because you’re just sleeping.
 “Y/n..” He calls softly. Too softly seeming as you remain unmoving. He decides to give your shoulder a gentle shake, calling your name once again, “Y/n.”
 “Y/n. It’s time to wake up,” Your lashes don’t flutter. You don’t grimace from the discomfort of his shaking growing more and more aggressive. You don’t do anything.
 “I don’t mean to disturb you, but you’ll probably get sick if you lie here in the rain any longer,” The same result. Blood begins to seep under his fingernails from how hard he’s digging his nails into your skin. He continues to shake you anyways, even going on to grip your other, covered shoulder.
 “Come on, you can’t sleep around forever. I- I planned to surprise you by making dinner all by myself tonight. It’s your favorite so you have to try it,” His nose was beginning to tingle from the odor that was invading it. Where was it coming from? Why is it so much stronger than before now that he’s closer to you? He forces his mind not to make the connection. Not that there was a connection in the first place. You were just sleeping, after all.
Just sleeping, nothing else.
Kabukimono’s hand trails down your arm, down past your wrist, to your hand where he enlaces his fingers with yours, “Come on,” He said, though his voice was quieter now, more shaky, and his words cracked like glass, allowing his desperation to seep through just a little, “We have to get home..”
 “I- I want to go home now, so let’s go..please..” He lifts your hand, raising your arm into the air and ignoring the deep, dark lines etched messily into your skin—the deepest looking one right over the vein of your wrist—and giving it a firm squeeze. You don’t reciprocate the action.
His grip loosens after a while and your fingers slide down his palm and flop to the ground beside you. You had to be really, really tired. But that’s okay, he’ll help you out!
He moves to hover over you, a grim smile etched on his face as he loops his arms around your waist and hoists you up. Your body collides with his as all your weight shifts to lean on him.
He holds you tightly, his head turning so as to not hit his nose against your chest and instead allows you to lean against the side of his face, his ear pricking up at the sweet symphony of...silence.
Sitting there, amongst the loud rain with his ear pressed against your chest—right over your heart—he’s met with deafening silence instead of the usual beat your heart strings typically produce. Your heart wasn’t playing its usual tune. It wasn’t playing anything, in fact, because it wasn’t beating. If your heart wasn’t beating anymore that meant you weren’t breathing anymore either which meant..you..
Tears—ones that he wasn’t aware of—were building up in his eyes, falling like a castle under attack. They slowly descended one after another, quickly fusing with the rainwater and forming as a long, thick stream along his cheek and past his mouth—which he had cracked open to bare his clenched teeth.
 “Y/n..what have you done?” He whispered. His voice sounded small like a baby fox’s cry for help; vulnerable and weak. He then repeats himself one last time, slowly, “..Why have you done this..?”
Silence. His teeth crackles under the pressure of him forcing them impossibly closer together.
 “Answer me,” He says through gritted teeth before yelling out, visibly and uncharacteristically enraged, “Answer me!”
Silence. He shakes you hard, your head rolling every which way like a ragdoll to the point it’d make one believe that any harder would cause it to roll right off your shoulders. Luckily, for his sake, it doesn’t.
 “You promised me!” He shouted, his voice then dipped, “..you promised me..”
Silence. A choke spells his demise quickly after that and his strength suddenly fails him, allowing your body—your corpse—to fall unceremoniously to the ground. He follows suit soon after, and when he does, he lets out a scream. One that clawed its way out from the depths of his chest, spilling his agony out of his throat and laying it bare for the entire world to see…alas, with nothing but the moon to comfort him.
Humans are odd creatures. Ones that cannot be trusted, no matter who they are or what past they may harbor, at least, that’s what Kabukimono.. Kunikuzushi…
That’s what Scaramouche has grown to believe after centuries of nothing but betrayal.
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Dividers were made by me, pictures used are from Pinterest, post formatting is inspired by @xxsabitoxx
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sesshous · 9 months ago
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random dating hcs ᰔ mona, alhaitham, gaming
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genre: fluff (no prns)
a/n: dating headcanons... drabbles... blurbs (not rly sure what to call these) also mona in the new cat event!! i love mona, she was the first five star i ever wanted and the first one i ever got, so i'm happy she's at least getting some more screentime haha ♡
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mona
mona isn’t the most… responsible with her money. while she does have money set aside, the vast majority of her income goes to her life’s interest: astrology. but even with her lack of money, mona still wants to do things with you! … just without a hefty price tag.
mona loves to stargaze — befitting of an astrologist. she loves taking you around different heights of mondstadt! mona knows all the best spots that have a good view of the night sky — pointing out all the constellations, rambling on to you about what they mean… she’ll even make some copies of her own star charts to give you for future reference.
not really a known fact about her, but mona is actually a pretty decent cook! she'd want to prepare you a filling (and cheap), but very delicious meal rather than go out to eat. sometimes, she’ll end up lecturing you on market prices and ways you can prepare meals for a low cost — she wouldn’t want you buying overpriced ingredients when you can get just as good ones for a cheaper price!
and yes, if you ask her nicely she can create and show you reflections other than constellations with her hydromancy… just for you though. she wouldn’t want people to think her hydromancy is all just for show.
(brownie points if you share the same interest in astrology. you’re basically a match at that point.)
“hm? of course, i knew we were destined to be together — the stars never lie.”
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gaming
the absolute sweetest! with how much he talks about you, people of liyue have to be living under a rock if they don’t know the two of you are together.
no has no shame with pda gaming will want to hold your hand everywhere you go. or have his arm around you. or hug you — he literally never gets embarrassed about giving you affection! he’s very into physical touch, he finds it’s comforting. i’d like to think he’s warm to the touch too — with or without the pyro vision. great cuddling material for cold days! (… hot ones too — you just have to wear breathable clothes so you don’t overheat.)
you don’t have to be into it as much as he is, but gaming would definitely want to teach you the basics of wushou dancing! he’s always there to help show and guide you through the movements — he likes to think he’s a pretty good teacher! he'll joke about putting on a duo performance… just a joke of course, haha… unless—?
oh, and man chai loves you! i like to think man chai acts more well behaved for you than he does with gaming, (he blames it on all the treats you give him) but he’s so glad you too get along! … even if man chai does steal take more of your attention when you’re together...
“y’know, i'm starting to think man chai likes you way more than he likes me! … but it's you, so i don’t blame him though, haha!”
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alhaitham
alhaitham as quite the reputation for being… unapproachable to say the least. to people, his words and gaze seems judgemental, so how could someone stand to be around someone like that? lucky for you, you're able see past what those people seemingly think of him!
the books alhaitham reads aren’t made for the average’s person leisurely reading — their complex and lengthy — but alhaitham feels a kind of… fondness when you ask him to read out loud whatever book he's currently reading to you! …even if you do end up becoming a bit sleepy due to the content of the book (he thinks it’s cute. will he say that to you? … maybe teasingly.) he also will read and take book suggestions from you if you have any for him! he doesn’t just read non-fiction (and if it’s from you, really he’s open to anything. anything.)
because of alhaitham’s day consisting pretty much on a schedule, he finds himself finding ways to incorporate you into it with his free time. he prefers to spend time with you in more quiet and secluded places around sumeru away from people, but i actually feel like he wouldn’t be opposed to dates in public! going to the likes of places such as the grand bazaar to see what people are selling or watching performances that are put on in the theatre (though most of the time it’s you dragging him out… he does find it entertaining to see your face light up at all of the sights)
on some occasions, he’ll bring you along with him when he’s invited out for drinks with cyno, kaveh and tighnari. (try your best to tease him in front of them, but he’ll always have a playful quip right back at you.)
"really? because sometimes i think you love using me more as a pillow than an actual boyfriend. i’m only joking dear, i love you too.”
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jaylaxies · 1 year ago
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KINKTOBER DAY 18 — TOYS
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PAIRING: haechan x fem!reader
GENRE/CW: smut, use of toys (vibrator, hand cuffs, and dildo), mutual masturbation, usage of nicknames, haechan is a perv and so are you.
WC: 1.3k words
WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni
A/N: hihi, angels! hyuck and @jaeminvore never fail to make me go feral istg, i hope you all enjoy reading this :3 all likes, comments, reblogs and feedbacks are highly appreciated! iloveyou all <33
✎ kinktober masterlist
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“If you wanted it so much then you could have just asked for it, sweetheart.”
The voice snapped you out of your daze, eyes opening to see a very smug smile plastered onto your roommate’s face, having caught you in the act of pleasuring yourself with what? A mere vibrator.
You were beyond embarrassed, also frozen as you did not expect to see him back at your shared apartment so early. He was solid two hours early as per his usual schedule, which gave you the perfect opportunity to play with yourself in the privacy of your room, not caring about being loud whenever he was out.
Problem? It was your roommate you always fantasized about while giving attention to your needy cunt, he was irresistibly attractive, and so was your insatiable need to have him, yet you couldn’t quite go to tell him the same, to maintain the decorum of being roommates and all.
Now, Haechan wasn’t a saint by any means. He had lost the count of times he had successfully stolen your panties (especially your white lace ones with the small bow in the middle), from the laundry basket, using the already soiled cloth to jerk off, wrapping it around his cock, his cum straining it further (but you did not need to know about that).
He too was equally as depraved when it came to fantasies—you being the reason and root of the core for the majority of his fantasies at least.
So, when he returned home early, only to hear your sweet moans lingering in the air, he knew he had to take his chances and intrude in hopes of catching you in the act.
What he did not expect, however, was to hear you whimper out his name with your eyes closed, legs spread enough to give him the clearest view of your wetness, along with the pink vibrator which you had been using to stimulate your swollen clit.
That’s exactly when he said that sentence, making you halt your movements altogether, yours legs closing with panic when he took a step inside the room.
“Though, I’m really offended if you think that a measly little vibrator will make you feel half as good as I can,” he spoke up, clicking his tongue before pushing it against his inner cheek, something he did when he was annoyed, or feigned annoyance if you take the current situation into consideration.
“Fuck! Hyuck, I—I’m so sorry, I didn’t know y—you’d be home,” you stated rambling, covering yourself up by side, avoiding eye contact at all costs, but he was quick to chuckle hearing your sentence.
“Shh, darling. You should be happy I’m here to help now. And since I’m so generous, I’ll be keeping the punishment time short,” he mused with amusement, yet you could see the glimpse of darkness in his eyes, swarmed with the desire he’s been holding back all this while.
You gulped, your hands barely hiding your tits as Hyuck shamelessly gave your body a once over, mumbling pretty under his breath.
“What do you mean? P—punishment?” You whispered, and Hyuck could have sworn the sight of you being confused and breathless made him want to ruin you.
He walked closer, leaning against your bed and closing the distance between you two, lips brushing against each other in a gentle caress, which sent a shiver down your spine. You could feel just how soft his lips felt, and you hadn’t even kissed him.
“So fucking cute,” he chuckled, “now be a good girl and open your legs for me if you wanna be fucked properly,” he whispered, his warm hand resting on your thigh, parting them and you gasped when the sudden gust of cold air hit your wetness.
“Fucked? Wait, Hyuck what?” You mumbled, lips on the verge of touching his and your heart felt weaker than ever.
“Just follow what I say, yeah?” He raised his brows, nodding and you found yourself in a daze, nodding back.
Then he leaned back, not giving you the kiss you were so desperately waiting for, rather, he bent down to get a box from below your bed, your eyes widening because Hyuck was not supposed to know where you hid your box of sex toys.
“Be good and you’ll get what you want, baby,” he smirked, seeing how innocent you looked, especially when he handcuffed your hands to the bedpost, getting your blue vibrating dildo out and keeping it beside you.
Your eyes were fixated on his figure, your breath hitching when he took off his T-shirt in one go, exposing his pretty melanin and the faintest abs, which was probably the prettiest sight you had even seen.
He then sat down on the couch right in front of your bed, spreading his legs as he sat, hand resting on his hardening cock. The print of his length was visible through his shorts, your mouth open and dry as the thoughts of wanting to have him in your mouth took over.
“Get that toy, baby. Let me see you pleasure yourself,” he urged, voice sultry and eyes hooded.
“Wait—you won’t touch me?” You asked, sitting with your one wrist cuffed, disappointment clear in your voice.
“So eager to be touched by me, sweetheart? First show me how much you want it,” he said, palming his cock through his pants.
Your body felt warm. Hyuck’s aura was strong, his gaze even stronger and you found yourself following his directions simply because you wanted to be good for him, your subspace pulling you right in.
“C’mon, baby. Show me how you use that dildo, and think of me while you do it,” he commanded.
You picked it up from your free hand, shyly spreading your legs to make space for it, switching it on and rubbing it all over your wet folds, eyes closing as you thought about Hyuck’s tongue, wanting it to replace the toy.
“Hyuck,” you whispered, the toy prodding at your entrance.
“Fuck,” he bit his lip, the sight in front of him was lewd yet the most innocent thing ever, he couldn’t help but get rid of his shorts, stroking his fully hardened cock now.
“Good girl, put it in your tight little cunt,” he said.
You nodded, eyes still closed and breathing ragged, a low moan leaving your lips, which caused Hyuck’s cock to twitch as you pushed the vibrating phallic in you, thighs closing and opening again at the sensation.
A whine of his name left your mouth again, and he could have sworn it was the prettiest sound he had ever heard. You continued your ministrations, leaving the dildo in your cunt and pressing a small vibrator on your clit, doubling the feeling of your unadulterated pleasure, your eyes watering when you saw him fucking his fist at the sight of you touching yourself.
It was too hot for you to handle.
“Yes, baby. Let go for me,” he whispered, watching your body shake and a tear falling down your cheek.
That’s it, that was your punishment—watching Hyuck touch himself but not touching you, which left you frustrated.
An irritated sound left your lips, causing him to chuckle and approach you again.
“What’s wrong, darling? Not satisfied?” He asked, mocking you.
“Please,” you said in a small voice.
“Hm?” He asked, urging you to speak louder.
“Please touch me—fuck me,” you begged, surprising yourself as you had never been this desperate before, your body shivering as it ached for him.
His eyes darkened, his carnal desires taking over, “I hope you’re ready to be fucked all night, darling,” he said, voice deep and promising.
That’s all he said before capturing your lips into a deep kiss, pulling you closer by your neck, your knees weaker than ever as he bit your lower lip, making you go feral with just one action.
Oh you so knew it was going to be a long (and adventurous) night.
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THANK YOU FOR READING!
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nthspecialll · 7 months ago
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When it comes to Abigail Marston leaving John in 1907, a lot of people throw mean comments at her, say that she was unfair for doing so and a lot of other things, however I think that people fail to consider the time that this game is set. This is not our modern day woman, this is 1907, and it might sound like I am stating the obvious but by the hatred that she gets it I think it needs to be said again.
1907!
Do you know the rights that women had then? Or the lack of. Women were bound to their husbands, they weren't allowed to own close to anything and were only allowed to vote in about 4 different states, some women that is. Women were seen as a servant to her husband.
It was also hard for women to earn money, the average woman over 16 working in a factory (as the majority was) earned 5-6 or 6-7 dollars a week, a week! Eggs on average costed 29 cents by the doz, a pound of round steak cost 15 cents and half a gallon of milk costed 15 cents as well.
What about rent? New Austin, which Blackwater and the surrounding area is in, is based of Texas which in 1904 had a rent per room pr month of 28 dollars.
So why would Abigail ever go through all of that? Because of John, because of Jack. Abigail stuck around John for eight years, practically begging him to fix himself, to become better because she knew that she was pretty much dependant on him, because she needs his support to be able to live and she wants to give her boy a chance at a better life but she can't with John constantly picking fights and literally putting her and her son's lives at risk.
A lot of people make it seem like she just suddenly took that chocie, but she didn't, it was a choice that most likely took her years not just due to the financial burden but also the social burden that comes with being a single mom in a time where pre-material sex was seen as a death sin. She could very well be killed merely for being seen with Jack and without a husband.
And not just that, but it was probably also a hard choice because despite of everything she loves John, she really does, yes she screams at him for going out with Saide but who wouldn't. "She won't allow him freedom," no she is scared he is going to die, for us it is easy to say "he isn't going to" because he is a main character and we can just redo if we die taking on twenty skinner brothers or whatnot, but it isn't like that for her. I want you to imagine that your partner/friend/parent told you they were going to fight a gang of who knows how many, you are going to be scared no matter how skilled that friend is because you don't want to lose them. John himself admits it is dangerous work by saying "we always find a way to almost get killed, dont we?" Which Sadie agees to.
Abigail took the choice to leave, putting herself in a terrible situation, not for herself, but for her son. She gave up her one true love so that her son could have a chance at life, have a chance to be better than her and John. It was not easy and it is not something we should shame her for, if anything we should praise her for putting her son before herself.
I love John, I really do, but I think it shows just how shitty of a father he really was, and that Abigail leaving was exactly the push he needed to get himself together, it was the wake-up call he needed. He knew how shitty women had it, he would have to realize how terrible he must have been for her to prefer that over him.
Now am I saying Abigail did everything right? No, she did not. Although I understand her fustrations with him doing bounties she has to realize she is not in a place to be picky about jobs. She did ask John to take on a huge debt for the farm and John is right in one thing "it is legal work that I can handle," and while the farm is taking some time to get up and running it is the best form of income that they have access to.
Now to talk about her annoyance with John going after Micah, it is understandable as it could trigger a decline to their former life of crime or just lead to straight up death. It is unnecessary, revenge is unnecessary, meaning that John is risking their entire life for "nothing." He argues back with "I am doing it for Arthur" but again, yes Micah killed Arthur but killing Micah wont change that, killinh Micah will not bring Arthur back nor put him in a better situation, it is revenge, it is not nessesary, it doesn’t do any good.
If John had died she would not only have lost her husband but also the farm, as women could not own property. I am not that knowledgable on debt laws in 1907, but I would imagine that in some way or another the massive debt John got would end up with her or Jack either way, putting her in a terrible situation.
@heavenlymorals made a similar post back in may 11th where they also explore and explain Mary Linton and Abigail in 1899, it is really amazing and also puts some other light on it.
Sources:
Rent, page 369: https://fraser.stlouisfed.org/title/annual-report-commissioner-labor-6306/eighteenth-annual-report-commissioner-labor-608452?start_page=370
Food, page 233: https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=umn.31951000014585x&seq=233
Wages, page 15: https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=nnc1.cu56779232&seq=15
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starmapz · 7 months ago
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shame on me || chapter four || monster
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gojo satoru x female vessel reader
❝gojo satoru is the strongest sorcerer. when you come along with power to match his own, his responsibility to the world gets the best of him and his first impression is poor to say the least. when he needs your help, by some miracle you're too kind to deny him. or maybe he's just manipulative enough to convince you. either way, you're stuck training his student, a vessel like you. what could possibly go wrong?❞
warnings || 18+ only. contains explicit content. enemies to lovers. extreme angst. graphic descriptions of injury and death. hurt/no comfort. hurt/comfort. fluff. major character death. anxiety. panic attacks. extreme slow burn. eventual smut. p in v. oral (f! and m! receiving). praise. overstimulation. unprotected. fingering. mating press. slight nanami x reader. happy ending!
additional tags || gojo is a dumbass but very lovable. very very very minor love triangle, will not be a main theme. no competing. takes place after season 2. au where gojo is not sealed and the shibuya incident does not go down the same. nanami is alive. choso is around. no major manga spoilers but will contain themes and ideas touched on later.
wc || 5.8k.
edited but not beta-read.
a/n || please enjoy what will likely be the last bit of fluff for a while :')
series masterlist || main masterlist || previous chapter || next chapter
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The grass is damp beneath your feet as you tend to the garden you had finally had time to start. Yaga had sent Gojo out to investigate after your recent outing, given that a grade one curse shouldn’t have been present during your mission. Yuji had taken care to mention to you as well that “Nanamin” had seemed nothing short of furious as they had discussed the mission. It was heartwarming, to say the least. Along with Gojo being away in Ginza, Choso had been sent out along with Yuji and another student you had yet to meet to investigate a potential cursed object. Either way, it allowed you a moment’s peace.
Golden rays warmed your skin, cascading down over the quiet landscape of the school. You bring the back of your forearm up to wipe sweat from your brow, the sunhat adorning your head not enough to block the heat. Smiling to yourself, you brush dirt from your hands as you finish planting a row of white peace lilies.
Letting out a gentle sigh, you borrow Miriko’s technique for a short moment, watching as you focus your cursed energy on one seed. The seed buds, pushing through the soft earth and flowering in seconds. You hold the pristine white petals between your fingers, gentle and careful as you admire the gorgeous blossom.
Taro’s head raises suddenly, bolting from his position beside you to run circles in front of your visitor. Curiously, you follow his movements, a smile finding your lips as your eyes land on Kento. He’s smiling warmly at you from the edge of the treeline, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He isn't wearing his usual blue shirt and yellow tie, but rather a simple white button-up shirt and tan slacks. He’s the definition of handsome.
“Pretty,” Kento comments, honeyed gaze soft and calm as he approaches you with hands in the pockets of his slacks.
Your pink-tinted vision falls to the simple curves of the petals gently held between your fingers. The corners of your lips upturn as you turn your gaze back to Kento.
“Thank you,” you grin. “It's the one thing I can do with Miriko’s technique that doesn't come at a cost,” you explain, fiddling mindlessly with the edge of the petal.
Kento hums slyly. “I didn't mean the flower, dear.”
Your lips part, eyes wide as you stare at him, your words failing you. Your cheeks warm, the heat spreads quickly to the tips of your ears and base of your neck and you're thankful for your sunhat blocking much of the flattery painted across your features. Your heart pounds against your chest in your moment of weakness, earning a heartfelt chuckle from the man who scratches behind Taro’s ear and makes his way over to the flowerbed, kneeling beside you.
“A peace lily?” He asks, tilting his head curiously and you're surprised to find he recognizes it.
You nod, finding your voice once again. “Yeah, they’re always the first flowers I try to grow.”
“Is there a reason for that?”
Your eyes fall to the flower, the only sprouted one in all the flower beds around you. Your smile fades, a solemn expression tugging your lips into a frown. “They're in honor of someone,” you whisper, letting your silence speak for itself.
Kento understands, his hand finding solace in resting gently on your shoulder as his thumb rubs small circles over your bare skin. His touch sends electricity through your every nerve as you're forced to remain in place to avoid shivering.
“I apologize, I didn't mean to bring anything up,” his voice is kind, understanding. You got the feeling he was far too kind to push the subject if you weren’t ready to talk about it.
“You didn't know,” you flash him a somewhat bittersweet smile, the most you can manage as you attempt to erase the images of the hospital so long ago from your mind. “What brings you here?” You ask, changing the subject. Releasing the peace lily from between your fingertips, Taro sets his head on your lap, his tongue lolling out happily. Your hand finds a place between his ears, scratching his thick fur.
“I know it’s short notice, but I came to see if you two,” he points to Taro as well, “would like to join me for an outing. A date.”
You study his expression for a moment. His eye is somewhat lidded, the mahogany of his iris full of hope. It’s sweet, the way he regards you as though he’s never seen something so pretty. The feelings that stir within you are foreign after years of setting them aside, but they aren’t unwelcome. The blush on your cheeks is the only answer he truly needs, but still he waits for your response, more eagerly than he’s letting on.
“I’d love that, Kento! I think Taro would too,” you say, gently petting between his ears. You wonder what Nanami has in store for you as you get to your feet, brushing leaves and grass off of your short dress. “Can you watch Taro while I get ready?” You ask with a giddy grin, to which the blonde sorcerer nods.
It doesn't take you long to open your cabin door, adorned in a warm crimson summer dress that ends just above your knees. The dress pairs well with your sunglasses and your hair is done up in a partial updo that pulls the outfit together.
Nanami’s gaze rises from where he’s throwing a ball for Taro. His eye widens as he takes in your appearance. A soft blush rises on his cheeks before the corners of his eyes crinkle as he smiles at you.
“You look beautiful.”
It's your turn to blush once again and you giggle bashfully to yourself while you turn and lock the door. Taro’s leash in one hand, you take the hand Kento offers at the edge of the stairs as you make your way down off of your porch to his side. Kneeling down, you hook the leash onto the Rottweiler’s collar, looping it around your wrist. Taro loops between your knees excitedly, not used to the leash as you attempt to untangle him.
Kento’s gaze doesn't leave you for a moment, his eye sparkling as his small smile fails to leave his lips. It’s hard not to feel nervous when his honeyed gaze is glued to you, your heart fluttering uncontrollably. It was flattering, something that would take you a while to get used to. It had been so long since you’d been on a date that you can't help but let small anxieties further fuel the nerves you already feel. Regardless, it’s hard not to be excited in Kento’s presence.
“Ready to go?” Nanami’s voice is smooth, patient. It even eases your anxiety somewhat. Nodding, you let him lead the way, Taro excitedly following along on his leash.
“Did you have something in mind?” You ask curiously.
Nanami’s chest rumbles in a soft laugh. “Did you think I asked you out with no plan?”
“I- well-” you stammer over your words.
“I do have something in mind,” he smiles, saving you from stumbling over words. “I’m fairly old-fashioned in that sense.”
“It’s sweet,” you assure him. Nanami leads the way out past the entrance of the school, down a quiet forested path until he reaches a small shaded clearing. Flowers of various colors are speckled across the clearing and a large beige and white striped blanket is spread in the center of the clearing. Your eyes sparkle at the sight of a cooler on the blanket, realizing what exactly Nanami had set up for the two of you.
“Kento…” you gasp, turning excitedly to face him. He's fondly watching your reaction, the way your eyes sparkle in wonder at what was a simple, yet well-thought-out first date for the two of you.
“I hope you like it.”
“It’s perfect!” You grin, turning to unleash Taro, who you knew wouldn't go far. Taro bounds around the clearing excitedly, immediately taking to smelling every inch of the new surroundings.
Your date’s hand finds its way to the small of your back, directing you gently to the blanket. You sit down alongside Kento, watching eagerly as he sets out a wide array of different food options, from fruits and pastries to sandwiches and salads, including some he brought just for Taro. He was so thoughtful and you were so hopelessly flustered.
Every kind and romantic action from the blonde sorcerer had your mind spinning, your heart pounding in your chest. It was almost like he was a gift delivered straight from the gods to your doorstep. Everything you could ever hope for. He had an interest in flowers and listened intently as you explained your wedding flower business. His eye would glimmer as he spoke about a novel he finished recently and it seemed he enjoyed baking and cooking too.
He told you about how he had once done an office job but returned to sorcery when he felt he was no longer able to make a difference. Although he didn’t feel he had found the right fit for himself even now, he found some sort of belonging in using his abilities for good.
The conversation flowed naturally as you told him about your cottage and the kind people you lived near. How you had a massive yard and how Taro had been trained for the explicit purpose of tracking Gojo, which amused Kento.
For a moment, it allowed you to feel almost normal. With your cursed energy suppressed and Miriko shut out of your brain, you were allowed to just be you. To laugh, and enjoy the shade beneath the warm spring sun of Tokyo. Embarrassingly, it had you feeling giddy like a middle schooler with a crush.
Though when it came down to it, when was the last time you had a crush? Went on a date? Living with Miriko for over ten years, it likely was in high school. It had been so long since you had allowed yourself to get close to someone and shut everyone out that these feelings were so foreign they struck fear into you.
“y/n?”
“Hm?” You blink at him, eyes flickering to his hand on your forearm as you jump.
“I didn't mean to scare you,” he offers a sympathetic smile as an apology. “I asked if everything’s alright,” he repeats himself.
Your lips part to speak but you pause, pressing them into a thin line as you examine Kento’s expression. He’s ever patient with you, allowing you to work through your own thoughts like the perfect gentleman he was. You can't help but wonder if maybe admitting to him that you haven't been with someone in over ten years won't be the most embarrassing thing on earth, but the nagging feeling in your chest says otherwise. Someone like Nanami had to have boatloads of experience, after all. A successful sorcerer as handsome as him? How could he not?
“You don't need to tell me, if you aren't ready,” he pulls you from your thoughts again, his thumb rubbing soothing circles into your forearm and you sigh, unable to hold his gaze.
“It's just… been a long time since I’ve-” you pause, biting your lip. “-been with someone.”
Nanami nods slowly as he takes in your words.
“I guess I’m just having a hard time convincing myself this is right,” you mumble, unable to meet his steady golden-flecked iris.
“I see,” he hums, squeezing your forearm reassuringly. “We can go slow. At whatever pace you're comfortable with.”
Somewhat embarrassed, you shoot him a grateful smile, unable to hide the growing blush heating your cheeks and the back of your neck. Your heart does a backflip at the sentiment he expressed.
“This may be forward of me, but why do you hold yourself back?” His head cocks ever so slightly to the side as he watches the way you purposefully avoid his gaze. “You don’t fight, you should have no reason to be in any trouble, no?”
Your lips part, but the explanation dies on your tongue before you can voice it. I killed someone, you think to yourself. Was that really something to bring up on your first date?
“Don’t feel pressured to respond,” Nanami’s hand brushes your cheek. Wide eyes face him, the way he’s staring at you so softly, so gently. So full of adoration. Sure, you had spent your time over the last couple of weeks texting him non-stop like a giddy teenager (which was surprising given that Kento didn’t strike you as much of a texter), but still the way it seemed you had both fallen so fast was nothing short of terrifying for you. Yet, somehow, comforting.
You trusted him.
“I took someone’s life,” you admit, stealing a glance in his direction. His expression is neutral, giving nothing away as to how he feels. “I-” your chest tightens, anxiety threatening to claw at your composure. “I took away a young boy’s mother.” Kento doesn’t move, he doesn’t react. He simply lets you speak, but it does no favors for the growing feeling of unease tearing at your lungs. “It was an accident.” Your voice is barely a whisper, tiny and weak.
Sensing your growing anxiety, Kento shifts until he’s sitting flush against your side, pulling you into his chest. He gently rubs circles into your back, his breathing and heartbeat a steady reminder of where you were sitting. Grounding you. Accident or not, the guilt had always eaten you alive. It was something you couldn’t forgive yourself for, no matter how hard you tried. A constant nagging in the back of your mind, a reminder of why you kept your distance from the rest of the world, despite being lonelier than you cared to admit.
“All the best sorcerers have to make sacrifices,” Nanami admits, his voice a soothing reminder that you were safe. You lift your head to face him, his gentle gaze forlorn and solemn as he admits his own faults. “Unfortunately that’s the nature of a world with curses.”
Still, it wasn’t an easy reality to come to terms with. A weight on your shoulders that would never be shed, something you feared you would never truly come to terms with. Your one true reminder of the reality of what Miriko really was, and what she was capable of when it came down to it.
“My point is,” Nanami continues after an extended silence, his fingers finding a place on your waist, igniting a fiery warmth beneath his large hand. “There are consequences to our abilities, that doesn’t make any of us more or less deserving of companionship.”
You let out a small sigh, neither unhappy nor content, simply taking in his words. “You’re too kind, Kento,” you smile up at him, leaning forward to grab a strawberry. Best not to dwell on it during your first date. You didn’t want to bring yourself or Kento down.
The sun’s unwavering rays broke through the canopy above as the afternoon turned to evening before you knew it. Time with Kento passed quickly, maybe even too quickly. His genuine interest in your every word, your every movement, was captivating. If your heart had anything to say about it, it’s that you were hopelessly falling fast and easily, because that’s exactly what things were with Nanami. He was so willing to be open and honest, to be understanding, that although you found yourself shaking and nervous here and there, he was quick to soothe any worries. It was almost as though he knew you better than you knew yourself.
Taro’s head rises from your lap at the sound of a nearby car driving up the dirt road towards the school entrance, likely either Gojo or Yuji returning from their missions. Taro’s tail begins wagging, knocking over a small container of blueberries. Smiling at your dog’s excitement, you take a moment to glance at the sky, realizing it’s beginning to get dark and now Taro was eager to head back to the cabin.
“What do you say we head back?” Nanami offers the suggestion, taking notice of the same observations as you had. You nod with a sheepish grin, taking the blonde’s hand as he lifts you effortlessly. A bubbly giggle passes between your lips as you both gather the blankets and fill the cooler with food, walking along the dirt path up to the school.
“Thank you for… everything,” you shoot Nanami a grateful smile, who shakes his head as though it wasn’t a big deal. “It’s nice to have a break away from the school,” you sigh.
“And Gojo,” he adds with a soft chuckle.
“That too,” you roll your eyes playfully, curiously tilting your head. “I got the feeling you two were friends?” You ask, though your question is phrased more as a statement.
Nanami’s brow raises as he thinks about it before shrugging. “I wouldn’t go so far as to say that,” his gaze flickers towards you. “Acquaintances, co-workers,” he shakes his head. “But I don’t believe Gojo would tell anyone he has friends,” your lips part in confusion, as your thumb rubs mindless circles into Nanami’s hand.
“Someone as outgoing as him having no friends? I find that hard to believe,” you scoff.
The sorcerer hums in comprehension, but he doesn’t say anything, mahogany gaze cast to the side deep in thought. As you near your cabin, any thoughts of Gojo dissipate as the blonde’s full attention returns to you. He squeezes your hand as he turns to face you.
“Thank you-” “-I had a-”
You blink at one another, a light blush dusting both of your faces as you speak over one another. A chuckle rumbles in Nanami’s chest as his hands find your waist and pulls you closer.
“Go ahead, dear.”
You swallow the lump in your throat as your blush deepens at the pet name he used.
“I had a great time today, thank you Kento,” you grin, your eyes sparkling. The way Kento’s mahogany irises dilate, shining in utter happiness, warms your heart. It’s good to see him able to relax, it’s good to see him smile when you’re so used to his constant tired expression, ever observant. Contentment suits him.
“Thank you for joining me,” he hums, his voice deeper than usual as his face nears yours, his breath fanning your cheeks. Your heart threatens to break free from your chest with how hard it’s pounding in your ribs and a shiver runs up your spine. His right thumb rubs soothing circles into your skin, as time seems to freeze. “I’d love to take you out again soon,” he says, examining the way you nod with a sheepish smile before his gaze falls to your lips and back to your eyes. A silent question of consent, one that you respond with by setting your hands on his shoulders and pushing yourself up onto your toes to press a chaste kiss to his lips.
Your eyes open to Kento’s, an undeniable happiness painted on his features like the most gorgeous masterpiece you ever had the honor of witnessing. He pulls you back to him, your eyes fluttering shut as his lips brush yours for a moment before he presses another chaste kiss to your soft lips, full of fondness and admiration. His hand raises to cup your cheek gently as he parts from the kiss.
But no moment could ever last so long for you, could it? As if the gods had other plans for you, Taro’s alert barks warn you of what you once considered an incoming threat and was now more of an incoming nuisance. A grating voice cracks through the barrier keeping you from the outside world.
“Hey, Yaga needs to talk to us.”
You rest your head on Kento’s chest in disbelief, groaning. His chest vibrates in a chuckle beneath you, his hand raising to smooth your hair gently. At least Gojo didn’t completely ruin the moment.
“Go ahead, I should be getting home,” the blonde sorcerer’s eyes are understanding as he pulls you just barely away from him, his voice low so that the awaiting snowy-haired man couldn’t hear him. “I had a great time today though, y/n.”
You lift your head to meet Kento’s eyes, smiling. “I did too,” you grin. “Text me?” A little tilt of your head earns a smirk from Nanami.
“I will,” he assures you, letting you go as you quickly unlock your door and let Taro in. You pause beside Nanami for a moment, a glint of longing flashing through your eyes as he gently squeezes your arm before allowing you to follow after Gojo.
You spare a glance back at Nanami as a goodbye as you trail after the sorcerer who had the gall to interrupt your date. At the end of the day, it wasn’t worth fighting with Gojo over it and so you decide to move past it.
“Do you know what Yaga wants us for?” You ask, catching Gojo’s gaze from behind his sunglasses.
He shrugs, his usual smirk pulling at his lips. “Choso, Megumi, and Yuji just got back, might be about that.”
You nod, remembering they had been sent out in search of a cursed object. The idea they were heading after a cursed energy had piqued your interest, though you’d made a conscious effort not to make it known. You couldn’t help but wonder if Miriko’s last piece was out there somewhere. Then again, if she was made whole, would she consume you? Drown you in your own soul? Surely not, but it was hard to consider her to be benevolent at the end of the day in spite of her kindness.
“Did you find anything in Ginza?”
Gojo’s smirk falters. “There were residuals that make me think we were set up,” he admits, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I have a guess as to who, but…” he shakes his head. “No matter, I can handle it,” he grins, though it does nothing to ease the discomfort you felt towards the whole situation. When two vessels, a grade one sorcerer, and the self-proclaimed strongest were attacked, it left you wondering who exactly the target could be of the four of you.
You make your way to Yaga’s office in silence, your thoughts preoccupied with the mission you had all been on just a few days ago. As the door to his office opens, you couldn’t help but wonder if this meeting should have been held elsewhere. Choso and Yuji are seated in chairs in front of Yaga’s desk, while another student with black spiked hair leans against the wall off to the side. He looked mildly uninterested in the meeting, turning to irritation as Gojo ruffles his hair.
You and Gojo file into the office, shutting the door behind you.
“Thank you both for coming on short notice,” Yaga nods, his expression unreadable behind his dark glasses. “I wanted to discuss the outcome of Yuji, Megumi and Choso’s mission.”
Yaga passes the floor to Choso, who had an uncomfortable expression as he proceeded to explain that the object ended up being a finger that a special grade curse had consumed, and that Yuji had eaten it. Or more specifically, Sukuna had eaten it through his hand. Again.
“Again?” You ask in disbelief, interrupting Yaga before he had the chance to say anything.
Choso looks like a deer in the headlights and you make a conscious effort to shoot him a reassuring look. It wasn’t him you were frustrated with.
“Sukuna got one or two that way,” Yuji cranes his neck to look at you as he tells you this.
“So that’s, what? Seventeen fingers?” You ask, met with the silence of the room, save for a nod from Yuji. “And when he has twenty, the goal is to kill him, yeah?” Again, silence. Yuji nods.
“What’s your point, y/n?” Yaga’s rough voice interrupts the river of thoughts you’re struggling to find words for, drowning in disbelief that a room full of adults didn’t see an issue here.
“Did no one here think that maybe a mission like this that puts lives in danger and grows Sukuna’s power might be better suited for someone else?” Your voice wavers as you clench your jaw. Choso won’t meet your gaze, though the rest of the room is again silent. “He’s just a kid,” you hiss, your gaze flitting between Yaga and Gojo, who you can’t help but feel are truly at fault here.
“He can handle it,” Gojo assures you confidently, but you shake your head in disbelief at him. “It’s eating the last finger of Sukuna’s that I’m concerned about,” he casually hums as though you weren’t teetering dangerously on the edge of an argument.
“I don’t care if he can handle it,” you hiss, turning your attention to the white-haired sorcerer. “You shouldn’t be rushing out to find all these fingers just to kill him.”
Gojo’s brow furrows and for once, you think maybe you’ve gotten through to him. But then he huffs. “He’s a strong kid, we’re not rushing. We’re just making moves when the time is right.” Maybe you didn’t get through to him, but for once Gojo is reacting to what you’re saying. You could count that as a win in its own right.
“But the time isn’t right!” You raise your voice, making a motion with your arms in disbelief in front of Gojo. “He is a strong kid, but that’s just it, Gojo,” you pause, taking a step towards him. “He’s just a kid.”
“I brought you here to teach him, you don’t get to make these decisions,” Gojo’s voice is tense now. Finally, finally, it seemed you were getting through to him. Getting something out of him more than the usual devil-may-care attitude he threw around.
“Don’t you dare throw that shit around,” you hiss, your voice dangerously low. “You and I both know exactly why I’m here.” You straighten yourself as you face Gojo, just barely able to see the way his eyes subtly narrow behind his dark sunglasses. Though you wore the same accessory, his pissed you off if only because you couldn’t see the subtle shifts in his expression behind his dark lenses. “But I’m not about to let that happen.” You swallow the lump in your throat, unwilling, on every level, to raise a finger in Yuji’s direction, regardless of what Sukuna could do.
“It’s okay, y/n,” Yuji solemnly interrupts before Gojo can respond, fidgeting with his thumbs. His voice is full of determination as he continues. “This is my purpose.”
Your lips part in disbelief as Yuji, a kid, admits to you that he’s come to terms with his own fast-approaching death. Your crimson eyes blink as you take in his words, shoulders dropping. How were you supposed to sit on the sidelines and watch someone so young sacrifice themself because someone told him to? 
“No,” you whisper. “No, it’s not okay.” A lump forms in your throat and as you glance at Choso you see a forlorn sadness reflected in his eyes that matches yours. Whether he chose to say it or not, it was clear he agreed. “I’m not about to watch you steal his youth from him,” you hiss, looking between Yaga and Gojo.
An eerie silence falls over the entire room. The air is tense, between you and Gojo, between Director Yaga and everyone in the room. Clenching your hands into fists, your nails digging into your palms are the only reprieve from the silence that followed.
To your surprise, it seems that your words resonated with Gojo of all people. After arguing with him mere moments ago, you’re not sure what exactly it is that breaks through his usually tough shell, but he takes a step forward regardless.
“From now on, I want Fushiguro on missions for cursed objects,” he surprises you as he leans forward, setting his palms on the back of Choso's chair. You glance at the other boy in the room, assuming he must be Fushiguro. The boy casts you a glance but nods slowly. 
Yaga takes a moment to consider all the words exchanged before nodding as well. “Very well,” he agrees. You blink in shock, wondering what it was that pushed Gojo into having a change of heart. Either way, you breathe a sigh of relief. “I do think it would be wise, however,” Yaga cautions, “to keep Fushiguro and Itadori away from one another.” You follow his gaze, looking between the two boys. Before you can voice your question, Yaga explains his thoughts to you. “We suspect Sukuna has some sort of interest in Fushiguro, but we can’t be sure what he has in mind.”
“I feel like that would have been important information,” you mumble just loud enough for Gojo to hear.
Do you have any idea what Sukuna could want?
No, Miriko hums, I’m not certain. If his technique affects others, I could see a correlation.
Dropping the subject, you figure that’s a discussion for later.
“I’d like to call Okkotsu back as well,” Gojo tells Yaga. “We don’t need another incident of cursed objects disappearing.”
Yaga nods again, going over details before dismissing you all. “Oh, and y/n,” Yaga adds before you can leave. “Watch your tone in my office.” You nod with wide eyes as you slip out of the office, letting out a breath as you pause in the hall outside of Yaga’s office.
“Thank you,” a deep voice addresses you. Choso comes into view, his sheepish gaze fixed on the floor. “For standing up for my brother.”
You tilt your head curiously. Him and Yuji didn’t look alike at all, but you supposed you were in no real place to judge with a dragon curse stuck inside you.
“I’m just glad someone’s on my side,” your laugh comes out with more exasperation than intended and Choso softly smiles. His eyes slowly shift behind you as he focuses on Gojo, who cheerily thanks the two boys for dropping by, taking an extra moment to bother Fushiguro before his eerie blue eyes rest on you.
“What was that all about?” You question Gojo. Sensing the tension in the air, Choso is quick to slip away.
“Whaddya mean?” He grins nonchalantly as though you didn’t just yell at him. Though, that was just how Gojo was. He always bounced back like nothing was a big deal.
Raking a hand through your hair, you lower your voice as you lead Gojo away from Yaga’s office. The halls of the school were still unfamiliar to you as you hadn’t taken the time to explore beyond visiting Shoko on occasion. Leading the way into a corner with vending machines, you turn to face Gojo.
“Why did you agree with me?”
“Isn’t that what you wanted?” His jaw hangs slightly ajar as he busies himself looking at the vending machine.
“It is, but-”
“Do you have any cash?” Gojo interrupts, eyes fixed on something sweet in the vending machine.
“What?” You stare in disbelief at how little he was paying attention. “Is everything a joke to you?”
“Do I look like I’m joking?” Blue eyes fix to you from the side of his sunglasses, not blocked from this angle. “C’mon,” he insists.
Baffled by the man, you pull your wallet out of the pocket of your dress. If it would make him listen for one goddamn moment, then sure, you could shell out some cash for him to get food. Gojo mumbles a ‘thanks’ as you slide a couple of bills into the machine, watching as Gojo punches a button and grabs what might have been the most sugary option in the machine. You wrinkle your nose at the treat, repeating your initial question.
Gojo sighs, leaning against the machine. “What’s it matter?”
“It matters because you’ve been nothing short of disagreeable the entire time I’ve been here, so I wanna know where your change in heart is coming from.” You cross your arms over your chest, shifting on the balls of your heels.
Gojo’s brow raises. “I’m not heartless.”
“Could have fooled me,” the snide words tumble from your lips before you have a moment to think about them. For a split second, a frown pulls at the corner of his lips. Even with how Gojo’s acted towards you, guilt still decides to eat at you for that comment. “Sorry,” your apology is barely a whisper.
An uncomfortable silence hangs in the air between you as you avoid his gaze.
“I’d be a hypocrite if I didn’t agree,” Gojo speaks up between bites of the sugar-coated ice cream bar he was eating. He rolls his shoulders as he pushes off of the vending machine to stand closer to you. The light blue shirt he wears pulls taught at his chest from the movement as he eyes you with a more serious air to him.
You take a step back, preferring the distance between you but tilt your head questioningly, a small hum parting your lips.
“One of the second years was in a similar situation last year. I said pretty much the same thing to the higher ups.”
That comes as a shock to you. Though, no, he didn’t truly strike you as heartless, you’d always gotten the impression that Gojo was still too much of a child at heart to truly see the weight these children needed to carry. It was only a glimpse, but maybe Gojo was more mature than you’d given him credit for.
“Then why-?” Your words fail you. Why everything? Why let Yuji eat so many of Sukuna’s fingers? Why let things get this far? Why let a child eat them in the first place? So many unanswered questions, you didn’t know where to begin.
“I wasn’t lying, y’know.” He takes another bite of the ice cream bar. “I don’t want to kill him. I told you that back in the cafe, yeah?” You nod slowly. “I’m on your side, y/n.”
Your brow furrows. “Then why don’t you act like it?”
For once, the man who never shuts up is silent. He runs his tongue over his lips. His voice is distressingly serious when he speaks. “Because someone needs to be the monster if everything goes wrong.”
It chills you to the bone. A shiver runs straight up your spine and to your heart. Never once had Gojo struck you as the kind of person who was capable of being so stark. The guilt of your previous words gnaws at your chest like a weight you couldn’t escape. The gravity of the situation you’d found yourself in wasn’t lost on you, but you had always figured you were the contingency plan. That Gojo wouldn’t kill Yuji, that he would force your hand. Or that he believed he would die and you would be forced to, that was the way he had always phrased it.
No, you weren’t the contingency plan. You never had been. You were nothing more than a dangerous gamble that Gojo was willing to kill if it came down to it.
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series masterlist || main masterlist || previous chapter || next chapter
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a/n || thank you so much for reading! i've gotten so much love on this series and it's been so much fun to write ♡ and for those of you waiting for gojo, consider this my promise that the next chapter will be quite long, and very full of gojo and also angst
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periwinkleserulean · 3 months ago
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𓂃 ࣪˖ ཐཋ ROOMMATE!dabi/t. touya x fem!reader
━━ trying to find an apartment while trying to save money is hard, thankfully someone saw your post and decided to message you!
━━ reader is indicated to be smaller than dabi, dabi is nicer here but lowkey one of "those" guys at school. dabi's personality was changed to be more laid back and less aggressive, so it's quite ooc. so if you want it to be canon go away this is my fic, my choice 😞.
━━ requests are open !
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ㅤTHE DOOR QUICKLY OPENED after you heard the music tone down, you were met with cerulean eyes looking down at you “Hey, come in.” the male moved to the side so you could get inside, you quickly did so and took in the sight of him. Dabi had pure white messy hair, he wore a white tank top that hugged his torso perfectly, he was wearing black sweatpants that hung loosely on his hips, he also had piercings on his face and ears. You decided to stop staring and looked at your surroundings.
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ㅤ“That's the kitchen, obviously.” Dabi pointed at your guys’ left, the kitchen was mostly made out of marble and had silver accents. He walked a bit and pointed again “That's the living area, on the left that's my room, on the right would be your room. Both rooms have their own walk-in closets and bathrooms, so you don't need to have a race who gets to shower first. Lastly, the one in the middle is both the storage and laundry room.”
ㅤHe kept pointing to the directions of the rooms, it was simple but the apartment itself was quite large, even if you just stood in the hallway you'd be able to see the majority of the interior. “Geez, your apartment is quite fancy, kinda worried for how much all of this costs.” You felt a bead of sweat drop from your face. “Don't be, I pay for most of the rent depending on my roommate. How much can you afford?” “Uhm,, like ¥50,000. max.” “Then I'll pay for 75%. Not like it'll damage my pockets or something.” Your eyes widen. “Isn't that unfair to you?” “Nah, So are you taking the place or what?”
ㅤYou thought about it, it was a pretty good deal and the place is amazing. “I'll take it, when can I move in?” “Anytime, you can even move in right now, I don't really mind. I can even help you get your stuff and crap.” Your eyes light up at that, your place is filled with boxes since you were so ready to move and leave. “Really? Let's go back to my place then! Although I should warn you, I have a lot of stuff so get your back ready..” “There's nothing I can't handle [name].” The way your name rolled off his tongue made your spine feel tingly and cheeks warm, you watched Dabi get a coat and car keys from a rack hanger near the door. “Come on you slow-poke.” He called out, without looking behind him. You held onto your bag and walked to the door and exited the apartment with him.
ㅤDabi was walking in front of you while you followed, the both of you heading to the apartment's parking lot. He pressed a button on his keys and his car made a sound, a black Lexus LFA. “Y'know, your wealth is slowly intimidating me.” You lightly joked as he opened the car door for you, he huffed with a smile. “‘m used to it.” he said as he shrugged before closing your door after you got inside, he walked to the driver's side and got in too. “Go ahead and put in your address on the GPS.” You did as you were told while you felt the car get colder and colder by the moment. Your fingers softly pressing the buttons on the screen, and it lit up and showed coloured lines for directions. Dabi put the car on accelerate, and left the parking quickly. The ride was quiet, the sound of the engine revving and the air conditioner working filled the air.
ㅤ“So,, why'd you take on engineering?” You attempted to make small talk, he didn't answer immediately so it felt REALLY awkward. “Dunno, jus' felt right. What about you, why'd you take on your course?” you took a moment to think about your answer before speaking up “Parents, specifically my mom. I don't actually want to do my course.” you laughed to try and not dampen the mood. Dabi glanced at you before returning his eyes on the road. “I understand, my old man wanted me to take business management, but I was persistent with what I wanted so, that's that I guess.” You smile realizing that, atleast you and your new roommate had something in common, annoying parental units. The silence was back, but this time it wasn't as uncomfortable as before. It was nice.
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ㅤ“YOU'VE REACHED YOUR DESTINATION.” you woke up from your small nap with a yawn and stretched out your arms before rubbing your back from the aching pain. “I didn't realize how far you lived.” you raised a brow and looked to your right, where Dabi was staring at you. “Is it really that far? I mean I guess it is since it takes two trains to get to University.” You said before getting out of the car, seeing your apartment. You opened the gate and got inside the premises with Dabi, and headed upstairs to your floor. You got to your door and took out your keys and unlocked it. The both of you went inside as you turned on the lights, a lightbulb slightly flickering before working properly. “Damn, your place is pretty small.” He teased, a raised brow and a smirk plastered on his face. “I'm pretty broke, I thought you already deciphered that.” You stare at him, deadpanned before you giggled slightly. “Come on, let's get started, I feel like we'll be at this for awhile..”
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⟢ TIMESKIP. . . THE NEXT DAY !
ㅤ“Dollface.” You felt a finger poke your cheek as you slept, but you ignored it. Until it kept poking you repeatedly. You sighed and opened your eyes slightly to see Dabi crouching in front of your bed. “Dabi? What are you doing in my room..” “We have orientation in a few hours, you should get ready.” You got up from your spot so fast “Really?! I thought that was next week!” “It is. Just wanted to say breakfast is ready.” “SERIOUSLY?!” “I'll meet you in the kitchen.” your new roommate yelled out as he exited your newly decorated room from last night.
ㅤYou got out of your room as you rubbed your eyes, smelling the freshly cooked food from the kitchen counter. You could see Dabi already munching on his breakfast, noticing your presence but not paying you any mind. You took a seat beside him and laid your head on the counter, barely fighting off your sleepiness. “Why'd you have to wake me up, it's so early...” “It's 1:00 pm.” You mumbled incoherent words, something along the lines that it's not breakfast anymore while Dabi chuckled deeply. “Come on and eat, the food'll get cold.” You slowly rose your head up from the counter and started getting your desired food along with your rice.
ㅤ“So, you excited for Uni?” Dabi asked, his mouth half full with food. “Not really, it's just another stressful year i have to endure.” You felt his eyes linger on you longer, before he made a humming sound of acknowledgement. “What did'ya wanna take anyway?” “Oh, nothing. I didn't really think I'd get this far in my life, kinda expected I'd die or something.” You huffed out a gentle chuckle as a smirk adorned your lips.
ㅤ“For a gal like you I didn't expect you to be dark like that.” Dabi snickered, before standing up and washing his dishes. “I'm going to the grocery store, want anything? My treat, since I doubt you can afford it.” He teased, you looked at him offended before agreeing with the insult. “Some sweets would be nice, and chips.” “Got it, any kind in particular?” you told him which ones you wanted, before he said bye and left.
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𓂃 ࣪˖ 𝓕rom me !⟢ i love this man
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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ©periwinkleserulean - All rights reserved. No work shall be reproduced, modified, translated without permission and proper credit; reblogs and likes are appreciated
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I've only watched the first 5 episodes and I'm obsessed! I am convinced that there is no part Jesse Lee Soffer can play that I won't love. I went to binge on some content for him and couldn't find anything (Big sad). So, I had to make sure he had at least one story. I'm still learning his character so this is probably not perfect.
Wes Mitchell Key 
You didn’t know what the hell you were thinking. The relationship wasn’t new but had been long distance since the beginning. Now you were standing in front of his apartment door, one travel-on bag thrown over your shoulder. You had jet lag from the flight all you wanted was a hot shower and any flat surface to sleep on.  
But now standing here anxiety twisted in your stomach clawing its way up your throat. You reached in your pocket pulling out a key. It felt heavy as lead in your palm and caught the light in the shine of the new metal. You had never used it before and half wondered if it would even really work in the lock. 
You and Wes had been officially together for eight months after steadily talking for three. It didn’t take a genius to know that Wes had trust issues. He didn’t talk about his childhood much, but the random snit bits that he had shared you knew it had been on the rougher side. He was slow to trust and despite his apparent mastery at reading suspects needed blunt direct talks to know where he stood in his personal relationships. 
You two hadn’t seen each other in person more than a handful of times. It had forced a strong foundation built on communication and genuinely enjoying the other company as opposed to falling into bed together because it was easy and lonely. Wes had openly admitted that he tended to do that in a lot of his previous relationships because he “wasn’t good alone”.  
It had been a major red flag and forcing you to keep the pace slow. He was charming, funny, and incredibly good looking and you didn’t want to get your heartbroken.
It didn’t stop you from falling in love with him.
Neither of you had uttered those words yet. Wes didn’t seem like the type to make that proclamation without meaning it and you didn’t want to back him into a corner. 
The feeling of him keeping parts of his life separate from you had caused more than one fight. It always happened in the same pattern. You would bring it up, he would acknowledge that he did it and promise to try harder to be more open. For a while, he would and it would get better but he always seemed to hide behind that last layer of protection. His reflex to protect himself at any cost. You loved him and tried to be patient with what he was working through but the pattern was incredibly frustrating.  
The last one had stuck pretty well. When he came for a week's visit, he had given you his key. He hadn’t said it but you knew it was his way of showing how much he trusted you. You couldn’t help but wonder if it had been an empty attempt to appease you. After all who would go across the country to actually use the key?  
You had only been to his apartment in Budapest once and he came to see you three times. When you met him, you didn’t even have a passport. While seeing each other hadn’t been frequent, the sex was always absolutely mind-blowing. 
Now you felt like quite the hypocrite as you had been hiding your own struggles from him. Things had gotten so bad, so overwhelming at home that you had packed a bag and paid for a flight on a whim. You couldn’t even remember if you packed underwear. Your brain had been like watching static on a TV and it was only halfway through the flight that you remembered that Wes wasn’t even home. He was currently in the Netherlands.  
You felt a gaze fall heavy on you. You look over your shoulder to see a man watching you stand in front of the door holding a key and making no attempt to open it for way longer than necessary. You scrabbled to put the key in the lock and let out a grateful yet slightly surprised breath of relief as the key twisted in the lock butter smooth. 
A glance back showed the man's suspicions seemed settled as he headed down the hall. Then you remembered the alarm and rushed in to type in the password letting your bag carelessly fall to the ground with a heavy thunk. You watch in anticipation after typing the code in. Wes would be the type to constantly change his code but the light turned blissfully green.  
You turned around to see the almost obsessively neat living room. It had a modern feel but it felt only half lived in like Wes hadn’t completely moved in even though he had been living there for over a year now. It looked exactly the same as when you had been there last. The only difference is the lack of pillows and blankets thrown on and over the couches. It was clear that he had done that for your comfort when you had been staying there.  
You stared blankly into the space. Should you call Wes to let him know you have invaded his home? A yawn forced itself from you and your exhaustion came over you in another harsh demanding wave. It had been over a 12-hour flight and you hadn’t been able to sleep at all. Thoughts of calling Wes were easily forgotten with the promise of sleep.  
You walk into his room and are washed in the scent of his cologne and aftershave still barely clinging to the enclosed space. It brought a soft comfort to you. A tease of his embrace. You paused thinking about how awful you must smell and all the germs you had no doubt gotten from the shared space of the airport and then the plane. Your fickle mind had you turning on your heel to the shower turning the water hot.  
As you rinsed off you noticed the only product that Wes had was a 3-in-1 body wash, shampoo, and conditioner. You didn’t even have it in you to care as you scrubbed yourself down with it only unconsciously noticing how awful it made your hair feel. You dried off sparing only the bare minimum amount of time towel-drying your mess of tresses before climbing into his bed. You sank into it with a sigh cocooning yourself in his blankets and before you could think twice you were out like a light. 
Wes entered his apartment quietly. Resetting his alarm before heading to the bedroom. He set his bag down gently as he headed to the bed. He sitting beside you brushing the still damp and tangled tresses off your face. You barely moved still deep in sleep. His eyes analyze you worriedly before leaning down and dropping a soft kiss on your forehead. 
Wes had been gathering his things when his phone had chimed alerting him that someone was at his door. He glanced briefly at his phone thinking it might be a person walking too close to his door or a package arriving he had forgotten he ordered. He had done a double-take when he realized it was you. You hadn’t mentioned anything about stopping by.  
He thought maybe it was a surprise visit. It had been a while since you had seen each other in person. The long flight explained why he couldn’t reach you the last few times he had called. He quickly dismissed that notion. You knew he was still in the Netherlands doing a job and he had given you no idea of when he would be back because he hadn’t known himself. If that wasn’t enough there was your slumped posture, hair thrown haphazardly up in a messy bun with thick chunks of hair escaping, only one carry-on bag thrown over your shoulder. He could feel your exhaustion through the screen, not the excitement you usually had when finally getting to see him again. 
He had watched with growing concern as you just stood at his front door with the key in your hand. You stood that way for so long that he thought his video might have frozen. It stung when he realized it was indecision. He had silently willed you to open the door but still you stood unmoving.  
His stomach clenched with guilt. It was his fault that you were hesitating. You had told him you felt like he had a life he didn’t want you to know. That he always had his walls up. He knew the truth and accepted the burden of trying to fix it. He thought he had been doing a good job and that it wasn’t a big deal.  
Watching you fight with yourself if you were truly welcome in his home or if you would be invading it spoke louder than your words ever could. They cut deeper too. Far past the walls that he had spent his life building. He was just about to call you and tell you to go inside when your head whipped backward clearly startled by something. Then you turned back with purpose and put the key in the lock. It didn’t give him the relief he was hoping for. You hadn’t chosen to go in, you had been pushed too. How long would you have stood there without that nudge? 
The flight home was short but it felt long. His mind was in fix-it mode and whirling with what was the right thing to do when he got home. He wanted to talk to you about your relationship. There was nothing more he wanted than you being around. How deeply he cared for you. He wanted to know what that hesitation meant to you about your relationship because he knew what it meant to him. 
Even though Wes desperately wanted that to be the first thing he did. He knew it wasn’t the right one. He needed to find the underlying cause of what would cause you to spontaneously fly across the country. What had happened? And how did it build up that fast? Hadn’t he just talked to you a few days ago? You had been a little quiet but it had been late your time so he hadn’t thought much of it. Had he missed something so major? How long had whatever it was really been going on? 
Wes tried to suppress his worry not wanting to alert the team that you were there until he knew what was going on. He knew an attempt to run when he saw it, he had done it enough himself. When the group had asked if he wanted to get some drink before they had all returned home, he had feigned tiredness. He had beelined for his home. 
Wes smoothed the blankets over you gently, considering his options. He sighed deeply standing up. You looked vulnerable and small twisted in the blankets and curled up into a ball. You were in a deep sleep. You had barely moved since he had walked in. It wasn’t worth waking you up.   
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