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spicysoftsweet · 4 years ago

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A Thorn In The Side - Gojo x Reader

Summary: Infatuation enduring from high school is more of a problem than you or he think (~3.4k words).

Warnings: fem pronouns, fem!reader, noncon, kidnapping, yandere, wlw mention, gojo is a pos

A/N: Part of @suedebunn‘s Hanahaki collab!

When the strongest jujutsu sorcerer to have ever lived wakes up in the early am with the sensation of thorns scratching his throat and fullness in his stomach, he’s baffled.

Even more so when he doubles over in bed to cough profusely to the point of near emesis, shocking for a man who rarely gets sick. He stares blankly at a pillow covered in droplets of flecks of red, and his eyes widen with trepidation, until he realizes those large drops strewn across his bed come from flowers rather than blood.

He must be dreaming, Gojo Satoru tells himself, but the satiny feel of the scarlet petals between his fingertips is very real.

Or perhaps a curse.

“So you expect me to diagnose you over the phone?”

Shoko pulled a drag of her cigarette as though for dramatic effect, blowing it out with a sigh, but continued to listen. She had to be up early anyway and ignoring Gojo would only make him more annoying in her experience.

“So what are your symptoms again?” she asked.

“Apparently my insides are trying to match my beautiful outsides~” he sang.

Shoko rolled her eyes, and as though he could see her, Gojo laughed loudly.

“In all seriousness, I’m turning into a garden. Coughing up flowers apparently.”

“Coughing up flowers, huh?” She leaned a little further against her balcony, her eyes setting on the early morning sunrise she could view from her high rise apartment. “Do you think it’s some type of curse?”

“It’s… different,” he replied, somewhat noncommittally. “I don’t think it’s cursed energy, actually.”

This was unexpected.

“What else do you feel?”

“Uneasy…”

It was Shoko’s turn to laugh. An interesting choice of words coming from him.

“Any ideas?” Gojo insisted.

“I mean, it could be some kind of undetectable curse. I’d know if I got to see you… How does your heart feel when you cough up the flowers?”

“It races.”

“Your mind?”

“Also races… lightheaded.”

“Any thoughts?”

“None.”

“As expected.” she teased, laughing again until she realized that for once, Gojo was silent on the other end of the phone. She scratched her head, then ran her fingers through her fingertips.

“Come in at 2pm today, okay? Don’t be late.”

---

“Well, you’re right,” Shoko stated, stepping back from the examination table, and crossing her arms as she set herself down on a stool to formulate her assessment.

Her friend, already graced with the palest of color palettes, did actually look ill, dark circles prominent enough to match hers marring his porcelain skin. He sat, legs spread apart, and leaning onto the weight of his hands besides him, raising an eyebrow quizzically..

“It’s not cursed energy, alright,” she said, with a sigh. She stretched out her hand.

“You brought the sample, right?”

Gojo, uncharacteristically a bit listless, tossed her the bag of vomited petals from this morning, covered in now dry saliva and other fluids. Not batting an eyelash, Shoko slipped on a pair of gloves and felt inside the bag, petals crumbling at her fingertips.

Definitely not cursed energy. She placed the bag on a disorganized counter behind her, making a mental note of scrutinizing it further under a microscope.

“Ideas?” Gojo asked after he’d decided that the time he’d given her to think was enough. It turned out the idea of being sick irritated him more than he expected.

The very idea of being vulnerable made him slightly nauseous.

Shoko let out a chuckle that sounded more nervous than she had intended.

“My only other thought is Hanahaki disease.”

“Hanahaki?” Gojo repeated.

“Yeah,” she stated. Crossing her legs, she relaxed into her stool further as she watched the young man carefully. “Who’s the unlucky one?”

“You mean?”

“Who’s the unfortunate soul you’re in love with?” She asked again, waiting for his response. The truth was that she was quite shocked at the idea of Gojo being afflicted with Hanahaki, that he of all people could have such a pure, destructive form of love given his track history.

She’d known him long enough to know that his body count was near ridiculous.

He tilted his head, then burst into laughter.

“Myself, duh.”

“Well, auto-Hanahaki isn’t a thing, but I suppose if it was, you’d be the one to be afflicted with it.”

She decided not to press further. “Whoever it is, I’d recommend you settle your feelings as soon as possible,” she added. “People don’t usually die from this but you look surprisingly like shit so I’d be careful.”

Gojo ran a hand through his hair, hopping off the table and pulling back on his shirt.

Settling his feelings may be more complicated than either of the two of them expected.

---

You were in the middle of your drive home when Shoko’s name finally flashed on your dashboard. Grinning, you picked up on the car speaker, mischief in your voice.

“It’s 7:03 and you promised me you’d call at 7 sharp, babe. What do you have to say for yourself?”

“You’re going to hold 3 minutes against me?” Her sultry voice filled your ears as you made the last turn between the grocery store and your apartment, and you hoped she’d be inside your home waiting for you so that you could actually hold something tangible against her.

“I did say I wasn’t going to tolerate you being late for anything anymore, didn’t I?” You teased.

“Bold declaration for someone who isn’t even home yet,” Shoko retorted.

In minutes, you were walking through the door, arms charged with bags full of groceries for dinner you’d planned to cook together. Shoko greeted you with a kiss on the forehead as you placed them on the counter.

“Did you miss me?”

You did, but you stuck out your tongue at her instead. Her hand intertwined with yours briefly before you separated to unpack items for dinner.

“I promise I’ll be less busy,” she offered as the two of you worked in tandem. Your stomach was already growling, so the sooner you had food on the table, the better.

“It’s no problem,” you replied, and you meant it only half-heartedly. It’s true she was less busy than a regular civilian doctor, but it seemed recently that her clinic was getting overrun with more and more curse victims. Things had been bad recently in the world, you figured.

You were happy to step back from the world of sorcery, but small reminders like these persisted.

“Did you still manage to fit Gojo in today?”

She had complained earlier today that Gojo always managed to make a bad day worse.

“Mmm,” is what she offered over the sound of chopping vegetables. You understood that she couldn’t say more, on top of the fact that any discussion of Gojo was already a sore subject. It didn’t have to be, and it shouldn’t have been, but this was what it was.

“Hope he’s okay,” you offered, as you turned on the stove.

“He’ll be fine,” she replied, her voice now quieter than usual.

---

The first and last time Gojo fell in love was in the spring of his third year, he suddenly recalled in the middle of a tryst, as an upsettingly subpar blowjob allowed his mind to wander. The young woman whose gags sounded almost theatrical when compared to the amount of pleasure he was actually receiving was starting to get on his nerves, but instead he took matters in his own hands, wrapping her long ponytail around his wrist before guiding the back of her head so she took him deeper.

If she was gonna choke, she should commit to it.

He’d fallen in love with you at first sight. It was a strange feeling for him to immediately be enamored with someone upon first glance instead, having always been the recipient of many an awe-filled or fawning look.

You were a transfer from the sister school, already a rare occurrence, and what was even rarer was the fact that you both had little affinity to jujutsu and little interest in getting better. One could wonder why you even showed up in the first place, much less why you’d moved from one school to the other.

You’d quit as expected just before graduation, but not before you caught his eye.

“You’re pretty shitty at this,” he’d remarked, attempting to win you over with humor when he’d been assigned to you for both orientation and possible tutoring. “Of course, you can always ask me for help,” he added, flashing pearly whites at you.

He was the opposite of successful in wooing you.

“I suppose since this comes easy to you, this is just funny, right?” You’d quipped.

Your words cut more than both you and he anticipated, but it didn’t exactly matter. You were not interested in him, the way he was interested in you.

But Shoko was different.

You became fast friends and upon your departure from the technical college, you’d remained in contact despite withdrawing from everyone else related to magic.

Even if Gojo tried many times to either bring you back to this world you’d left behind or be part of your new one, you’d rebuffed him every time. Harshly.

“I don’t know why you expect everyone to worship you,” was the last thing you’d said to him. “I’ve already made it clear that I don’t want to be part of this life,” you’d insisted. “Why would I change my mind just because you asked me to?”

You were right.

And yet you loved Shoko.

The young woman whose name he’d forgotten’s face was now pressed against his pubic bone and she now began to squirm, slapping and scratching at him like some kind of trapped animal as she struggled to breathe, reminding him that he’d daydreamed for too long.

“Sorry,” he offered, as he released his grip, leaving her to sputter and choke. Looking at her, knowing that she was not you suddenly made him want to choke himself, to bring forth that impromptu garden of unrequited feelings.

He patted her on the back gingerly, and once it looked like she’d restabilized, pulled her in for another kiss.

If only her lips tasted like yours.

---

Shoko’s hand glided against the curve of your hips, taking in the image of you sleeping softly on your side, facing her. She dipped down to kiss your nose; it was the only time the fact that she had such an issue with sleep benefited her, this ability to almost always wake up before you.

You looked incredibly peaceful while sleeping, and she had to admit this angelic view of you was even better than your features twisted in a pleasured mewl (not that it wasn’t a close battle).

There was a nagging concern in the pit of her stomach, however.

Gojo suffering from unrequited love could be a problem, if the object of his affections did happen to be you. But it had been years ago that he’d pursued you unsuccessfully, why present now?

Why present to her office of all people? Gojo could be inconsiderate, but not to this extent.

But what if he didn’t know that this was what he was feeling? Suppressed feelings taking root and morphing themselves into the tangible he couldn’t ignore?

She sat up, resting her back against the backboard, the lack of a cigarette between her lips being palliated with the gnaw of her thumbnail.

It couldn’t be. Not you.

Please, not you.

---

“Hey, how are you feeling?” Shoko checked in about a week later.

Gojo didn’t share that he’d spent the entire morning in a coughing fit of petals, now definitely streaked with blood, and the entire last night vomiting enough flowers into the toilet that it had overflowed.

He didn’t comment on the entire scarlet sage plants with large green leaves that threatened to sprout from every orifice, not just his throat, but his ears and nostrils, possibly from behind his eyes.

He didn’t know what was next, only that it was getting worse.

The constant fire in the pit of his stomach, the shivers, the chills, the incessant flash of you running through his mind, your name moaned in the darkness, his body drenched in sweat.

The fact that he knew it was because he loves you and cannot find an alternative for you.

The fact that he must have you, and only you.

“Has it gotten better or worse?” Shoko asked.

“I’m fine,” Gojo reassured her, masking the exhaustion in his voice, and she made the mistake of believing him.

---

You awoke in darkness with an icy cold searing into your skin.

It took you a moment to let your eyes adjust to the light and for your body to resume the motor control it had briefly relinquished in sleep before you could reorient yourself. You were laying on ground of some sort, maybe hardwood which implied that you were in some kind of building.

Your head throbbed viciously as you shifted slowly to a sitting position and you almost expected there to be blood as you ran your hands over the back of your head, checking for injury. But there was nothing, just the normal feel of your hair, and the steady thump of your temples in time with your pounding heart.

Looking around, your eyes soon fixed to the low light, not actual darkness to center on a figure in the center of the room.

You let out a gasp of surprise.

Gojo.

Not only had it been a while and he was the last person you expected to see, he looked stranger than he ever had.

He sat perched on a chair backwards, chin leaning on the top of the backrest. His head was tilted, and he watched you warily but fixedly through eyes that looked sunken into their orbits. Their clear blue was still sharp in the darkness.

His skin had taken on an almost ghostly cast to match his hair, and he was thinner than you remembered as though he had been slowly withering away since the last time you saw him. That was ages ago.

Your limbs froze in anticipation. You didn’t have to be a genius to recognize that whatever was happening or was about to happen was bad.

“Why did you bring me here?”

He stared at you blankly for a moment, unmoving. If he weren’t so extraordinarily fatigued, he would have sat up straighter in his chair and offered you a smile. You were still as pretty as the day he first laid eyes on you, after all. What a welcome sight.

“I guess I missed you,” he responded instead, quietly.

Your teeth gritted as you flared up in indignation.

“Excuse me?”

He cut you off with a loud, exasperated sigh, mustering the little bit of energy he had left to run a hand through his hair.

“Listen, I thought I’d forgotten myself, but it turns out that I’m being betrayed by my own body.”

As though to add effect, a coughing fit began just at the end of his sentence, and you watched as he spat flowers into the palm of his hand, lowering them for you to see.

“And it seems like you’re the cause of this.”

Your eyes widened as you took in the sight of bloody petals falling through his fingertips and hitting the ground.

He was completely out of his mind.

“I…,” you shakily got yourself up to your feet, not letting your gaze leave Gojo for a second. He didn’t get out of the chair, but he did shift so that he leaned back in the seat, a wicked smile on his face.

“You...?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” You spat. “Where the hell am I and how did I get here?”

He finally did get up, although it was done in a dramatic, strained movement. He really had lost weight, you noticed, picking up the flash of pale wrists before he shoved his hands in his pocket.

“I know it sounds crazy but apparently, according to your girlfriend, I’m suffering from lovesickness.”

He bared more of his teeth now, looking more like a grimace than a grin by this time. “I didn’t believe it either, but then I started seeing you in my mind every single waking moment.”

In the split second it took for you to blink, he had crossed the distance between you, so that he was now in your personal space, the palm of his hand inappropriately caressing your face, as tender as you’d expect from Shoko.

And you immediately jumped back and backhanded him as hard as you could.

The crack of your hand was loud and exaggerated, reverberating in the room. For a moment, you froze in shock, surprised the slap had actually landed, before shaking out your now burning hand and following up with a hiss.

“Don’t you fucking touch me.”

Gojo’s icy blue eyes glint, demonic in their delight.

“That’s the feisty bitch I remember.”

---

It was nearing 24 hours since you’d failed to reply to Shoko’s text and the normally collected woman was terribly anxious.

She’d stayed at work late, and still, not a single message from you.

The nagging feeling in the back of her mind returned.

What if it were you?

Gojo couldn’t be that insane, could he?

When she entered your home to find traces of red salvia scattered throughout your home, it only confirmed her fears.

---

“I don’t want to do this either. I mean it.”

It was hard to believe him when he seemed to savor every brush of the lips as he trailed kisses along your inner thighs, spread open with the force of his hands. Gojo had always been deceptively strong, even now, when it looked like he was wilting just as much as the flowers he coughed up.

Your wrists were bound to a fixed point at the head of a foreign bed, and your ankles to the bedposts anteriorly to prevent you from fighting. Not that you would have been able to fight back anyway, but the severe fatigue permeating his very bones made him less willing to risk anything.

When his lips made it to your center to circle your clit, you writhed in disgust, forcing back the sighs of pleasure that would inevitably ensure.

“Y-you can’t - ah - make me love you…”

Gojo paused the swishing of his tongue to give you a look that reeked enough of apathy that it was almost startling.

“I’m aware, but there’s no harm in trying.”

---

“Where the fuck is she?”

Satoru had the ostentatiousness within him to receive the phone call on speaker, so that you could hear Shoko beg to find out your whereabouts.

“She’s with me,” he replied, calmly to her, holding the phone in one hand and pumping fingers in and out of your slippery cunt with the other.

By this time, Gojo had gotten tired of your expletives which no longer retained the initial cute charm, so your screams for help were muffled by a gag over your own wet panties shoved into your mouth.

He’d been at this for hours.

There was a pause on the phone from Shoko’s end that sounded like something crashing to the ground, maybe a plate breaking.

Her tone changed immediately.

“P-please don’t hurt her.”

“I’m not.”

He glanced at you who glared back at him with reddened eyes and tear-stained cheeks. You looked even prettier when you were so totally helpless.

“I would never,” he added.

The pump of his fingers slowed but did not stop.

“This won’t fix you,” Shoko warned, almost in a low protective hiss, her own voice breaking. “This won’t fix anything, you bastard.”

He cut off the phone abruptly, and let out a sigh before shifting his attention back to you.

“Where were we?”

---

Maybe if I pretend, he’ll stop?

Or will he continue? Will I just affirm that he won?

His thrusts were relentless, as was the constant tugging at your hair, the teeth sinking into every inch of your skin, the moans and groans whispered into your ears or your bosom.

A violation in every sense of the word.

You were running out of tears.

The fact that it’s pointless, you and he both know it. Your true love knows it, that this is just an excuse to get back at you. For what? Rejection?

He would die anyway. You would never return his feelings, if there even truly were any.

He continued to rut into you, and flowers started to stain every inch of your bodies, covering them in a deep scarlet.

Red. Red. Red.

Blood. Rage. Power. Passion.

You probably didn’t need the restraints anymore. You had no fight left in you.

Just the satisfaction, however small, that regardless of what he did to you, he would still eventually succumb to nature and perish in a bed of putrid efflorescence.

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #collab fic #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo smut #shoko x reader #tw noncon #mae.writing

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kaeyafanclub · 3 years ago

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albedo nsfw???? pretty pwease!

M-Mr. Albedo?? okie dokie👌

✨🦋MINORS DO NOT INTERACT🦋✨

Pansexual he/they

Fucks for the mental data gathering, rather than for the actual physical pleasure (but he still values the pleasure)

Prefers to be a dom so that he can study his partner from different angles better

Is very flexible

Fascinated by human blood, so will fuck you on your period (Do Genshin characters have periods?🤔)

Likes stepping on genitalia

Has stamina that can last for hours in bed but can't run for more than 10 seconds

Enjoys his hair being pulled

Likes the feeling of tiddy-fucking his research books

Thinks snow can be used as lube (if the snow is thick enough, we can lube it)

Is a voyeur

Made Timeus a potion that aggravated his lust and pinned Albedo to the floor. Before he was able to ram his teacher Timeus came profusely prematurely and fell unconscious

Used his elemental burst to fist one of his partners

Had a wet dream about Kaeya and felt compelled enough to draw it. Immediately set it on fire afterwards

Would never admit it but likes the marking on his neck caressed during sex

Wants his ass slapped

Does not encourage toys because he wants to be the one to create the pleasure

Will take your cum sample and put it under a microscope

Likes to caress boobs

Understands the reasoning behind anal sex, but it just hurts too much

Aroused by teasing

Cannot understand it but the smell of dandelion wine turns him on, but hates the taste of it

Embarrassingly came to the thought of crystalflies fluttering around in his bum

#albedo genshin impact #genshin smut #genshin impact #albedo rerun when?

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xxiaoyang · 4 years ago

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i've got you (too) | yangyang (m)

yangyang was the best at reading you. as much as he liked to play around, he was always there when you needed him.

words: 3.5k

warnings/tags: smut, non idol!au, college!au, unprotected sex, breeding?, switch!yangyang but kinda soft dom ig, sub!reader, hurt/comfort, love-making, feelings, fluff

a/n: this is just soft. build up but what’s new, it’s me and i can’t shut up about him.

yangyang was always good at reading you. he was like that with most people, observant enough to pick up on the mood around him. but with you, some days he may as well be reading your thoughts. at times it's like he knows what you're feeling before or better than you do. when you walked through the door of your shared apartment with hunched shoulders, he knew something was off.

he had finished class earlier, spending the remainder of his afternoon playing games online and eating whatever he could find in the pantry. you guys really needed to go shopping. he made a mental note to chide you about it later, his mischievous self always looking for a way to tease you, even knowing full well he was the one who ate all of the food.

he was sprawled out on the couch waiting for you, mindlessly clicking through youtube videos and watching as the time ticked on. it was now thirty minutes after your last class, and he couldn't stop the slight bit of worry that creeped into his mind.

your apartment was only about eight minutes from campus, having chosen it for that reason, so you should have been home already. and you always let him know when you were held up with work or going to be home later. it wasn't that you couldn't go about your day without letting him know what you were doing, he just worried when he didn't hear from you for a while. this was unusual for you two.

he sat up straight, shaking the negative thoughts out of his mind and checking his messages in case he'd missed one. nothing. that was weird. he decided to send you one and ask how you were doing, but before he could hit send the telltale click of your deadbolt filled his ears, his head snapping over to you, ready to give you an earful.

you walked through the door a second later, turning to lock it and remove your coat and shoes by the rack without a word. yangyang let a smirk curl at his lips and took the opportunity to poke fun at you.

"what took you so long! we ran out of snacks," he teased lightly, "i almost starved."

you turned in his direction, still silent, and it was then he could see the tired look on your face, your shoulders drooping and your legs barely holding you. his smirk was wiped away at the sight of you, his legs already making their way over to you.

he held your shoulders, tilting his head in an attempt to meet your eyes, but they were unfocused as you gazed off into space. he felt his heart crack at how defeated you looked.

"what's wrong, baby? talk to me." he let his hands fuss at you, straightening out your oversized sweater, a few gentle fingers coming to brush a stray strand of hair from your face. you didn't budge. you didn't even seem present in the room. your head stayed lowered in its position. he began to worry that something bad had actually happened.

taking your face into one of his hands he turned you in his direction, checking you for any clues that could help him figure it out.

"did something happen? did someone do something to you? at least tell me you're okay."

the hint of panic in his voice brought you to your senses, pulling you from your zoned out state to look into his eyes. it was like you hadn't even registered him there. as the warmth of his touch seeped into your skin, his eyes searching yours so intensely, you felt yours sting with tears. tears you didn't realize you were holding back.

that had him springing into action. yangyang was an energetic and playful boy, but he was serious when he needed to be and he knew exactly how to take care of you when you needed him.

"oh baby, come here," he cooed, pulling you into his arms and stroking the back of your head softly. as soon as he did, your arms were clinging to him, your form shaking slightly in his hold. he was sure his heart had broken, your weak sobs making him want to cry too. but he wouldn't, for you.

he waited patiently for you to let it all out, holding you by the door until you were ready to talk. when you sniffled and lifted your head, he brushed the hair from your forehead, staying quiet and giving you room to speak.

"i'm sorry." he knew you were going to apologize, but let you keep going. "i wasn't ignoring you, i was held up after class and i just wanted to come home so badly but he wouldn't let me and i didn't even realize the time."

"was it that professor?" you nodded, yangyang following suit in understanding. the one who always gave you a hard time about your assignments.

"that prick. one of these days i'm going to have to give that old man a talking to," he pouted, earning a giggle and a weak slap on the arm from you. he continued, "i will! i'm not above fighting an old person."

your giggles erupted into a full belly laugh, your bright smile returning to your face, lighting up the room once again. there you were.

he just watched you with his big gummy smile, happy that, for the most part, you were okay and that you were smiling again.

"i was just kidding, by the way, i wasn't actually starving."

you shook your head, scoffing at him. "you can get your own food, you know," you teased back weakly.

he didn't respond, his deep brown eyes boring into you and making you feel small. "well... what do you want to have? it's still a bit early for dinner but we can start to make something. or order something later?" you asked.

yangyang shook his head, his hands holding you by your waist and pulling you closer to him. "i don't really want to eat right now."

your eyebrows furrowed together, "mm, okay. what do you want then?"

he leaned forward until he was flat against you, a hand trailing down your back as he spoke, "just want you. let me make you feel better."

the intent behind his words was made clear to you by his actions, his hand rubbing soothingly into the small of your back and sending a shiver down your spine. he kissed the side of your head down to your neck, stopping before he reached the sensitive skin there.

you felt yourself melting into him, your exhausted brain shutting down at his smooth voice. you felt out of control of yourself. most of all, you felt needy, wanting him more than anything now.

you leaned into him, legs nearly giving out, a small hum in the back of your throat. he smiled to himself, stepping back to place a hand behind your knees and scoop you up into his arms.

you were both shocked and impressed by the action, unaware that he had such strength. the revelation making you feel even smaller in his grasp.

yangyang carried you to your bedroom, sitting on the end of the bed and shifting you into his lap so you were sat across his legs.

one hand traced patterns on your back, his other hand smoothing up and down your thigh. he was waiting you out to make sure you wanted to continue. "are you sure this is okay? if you want we can just cuddle and watch tv or nap. those are good to me too."

your heart clenched at your boyfriend's sweet words, his soft tone breaking you down into a yearning mess for him. the feeling was unfamiliar to you, with you usually having good control of them. you just nodded and hid your face in his chest.

he chuckled and lifted you from his lap to stand you in front of him, his long legs on each side of you. "let's get these off of you."

his movements were slow and calculated as he pulled your sweater over your head. he was treating you like fragile china that would shatter in his hands at any moment. it only made you weaker. with the same carefulness he removed your bottoms, leaving you bare in front of him while he was still fully clothed.

you felt like you had been put under a microscope, acutely aware of his gaze as his eyes wandered over every curve and dip of your body. if the pure adoration wasn't so present in his eyes, you might have felt a bit self-conscious. the only thing you felt was the overwhelming desire for him to take you right there.

you were having trouble finding your words, unsure of what you even wanted to say, so you just tugged at the bottom of his hoodie hoping he'd get the hint.

he grinned, that mischievous grin you'd come to love, and pulled it over his head in one swift motion, his toned chest and arms on display for your glazed over eyes. you were barely thinking anymore, just feeling. the heaviness of the atmosphere weighed on you, making you crave him more.

your hands flew to smooth skin, fingers trailing over his prominent collar bones to his shoulders that had gotten bigger in recent months. he shivered when you dragged your nails down his abdomen, feeling up every part of him.

it wasn't usually like this. you and yangyang were pretty much always on the same wavelength, being more inclined to have fun and be less serious when you were having sex, even trying new things in a space that was more lighthearted. but this was different. this was much deeper. it was so intimate.

you felt yourself growing more timid, which was another first. your dynamic with him was different, as well, you being the one who was more experienced and typically leading. it alternated back and forth between you two, yangyang's ability to read people being very helpful for times when you didn't feel like being in control. but even in those times, you still had control - over yourself. now you just felt vulnerable and dazed. if it weren't yangyang making you feel that way, it would have terrified you.

but the boy, with his big sparkly eyes that were looking up at you now, only filled your heart with warmth, no fear present. without realizing it you had crawled back into his lap, fingers fiddling with the button of his jeans in a lazy attempt to undo it.

he laughed from deep in his chest, amused by the far off look on your face as you fumbled your way around him. he kept his comments to himself, only pressing his lips to your forehead and pushing his pants down his hips.

when you didn't make a move to let him take them off, he lifted you in his arms once again, flipping you slowly and laying you under the plush blanket.

he knew your mind was shutting off and it had his chest swelling with fullness to know he made you comfortable enough to get that way. you were always the responsible one, so often shouldering the burdens and taking care of him on top. you rarely let your guard down, even with him at times. it took him a while just to get you to open up to him in the beginning. but even at your most vulnerable, you always maintained control.

to be able to see those walls come down and for you to allow yourself to. to put enough trust in him to have total control over you made his heart pound behind his ribs. he wanted to be everything you needed, everything you were to him. to make you feel special and cared for and safe. he knew it would take a while, and now that it's here, he feels so full. full of love for you. and he just wants to show that to you.

yangyang quickly tore off his jeans and crawled up to you on the bed, leaving a trail of kisses up your leg, over your stomach and chest all the way to your lips, molding his together with yours and warming you from the inside out.

tugging at the blankets beneath you to pull them up, he moved so you both were under the covers, and settled himself between your legs on top of you.

he looked down at you with such fondness in his eyes, taking in every small detail and gracing every spot with a kiss as he went. the adoration he felt for you was immeasurable, all consuming. you were so special to him. you understood him and complimented him in a way no one else could, always making him feel loved and seen. now he could return the gesture.

yangyang lowered himself and kissed you with all the emotions he couldn’t contain, something so tender and full of passion. the warmth that was radiating from him was so overwhelming you could cry right there. but you just kissed him back, meeting him in that place and returning his devotion.

he held you close in his embrace, a hand wandering down your stomach to your side and rubbing at your hipbone with his thumb. his fingers danced across your thigh to your core, met with the slick heat of your folds. he parted them with a finger, spreading your wetness up and down, kissing you all the while. his tongue brushed against yours in slow, focused motions. he let his finger slide back down, dipping into your entrance and making you gasp on his lips.

he slid his finger into you all the way, curling it and drawing broken whines from you. yangyang moved back and began crawling down between your legs and your hands flew to him, grabbing at his shoulders to stop him.

you shook your head, clinging to him, “don’t need to. want you inside.”

he froze, stomach flipping at your demure tone as he returned to his spot over you. “okay, baby, let me grab a condom-”

“no,” you held his arms, lifting your hips to meet his untended erection, “want you like this, if that’s okay.”

he crashed his lips against yours, nodding and moaning into you, his need for you just as intense. he used a hand to trace along your slit with his length, coating himself in your essence before pressing the tip to your opening. slowly he pushed into you, your muscles loosening to accommodate his width. the defined edges of his head rubbed against your walls deliciously as he inched himself into you further, the feeling already too much for you in this state.

he stilled, lips parting from yours to search your eyes for any discomfort, finding none. you pulled him back to you and encouraged him with a small thrust of your hips. without hesitation he pushed the rest of his length into you, bottoming out and reaching a place inside you that had your body humming with satisfaction. he was so close, you could feel every detail of him, hot and twitching in your center. you thought for a second that you could even stay like this, but you wanted more of him.

when you wiggled your hips, he got the hint, laughing through his nose where his lips were pressed to your jaw. “tell me how you want it, baby.”

“don’t care. just want to feel you deep inside.”

he couldn’t help but find you adorable and stroked your cheek, pushing aside the feelings that arose in him to focus on you. yangyang lifted himself on his arms and pulled out of you, thrusting back into you with a force that had you arching off the bed.

lowering his head to your chest, he kissed your breast so softly you almost didn’t register it, a whimper escaping when he took your nipple between his lips.

he paid special attention to all of your sensitive areas, making sure to cover every part of you with his affection, while rolling his hips into you in a slow rhythm. it wasn’t like you to just lie and take it, you always wanted to make him feel good too. but you were sure that if it weren’t involuntary, you wouldn’t even be breathing right now.

yangyang returned to your lips, pouring himself into you and giving you all that he could. he was losing himself in you already, quickly coming undone from the velvet feel of you wrapped around him so tightly. he wanted to be as close to you as possible, to be one with you. he increased his speed, pumping into you harder trying to get as much friction as he could for the both of you.

each thrust sent shivers across your skin. he was thrusting into you so hard you swore you could feel it in your womb. the thought had you bringing your legs up around him to hold him closer, all sorts of primal desires swimming in your mind.

he shifted in your hold, hitting that sweet spot in you with his next thrust and ripping a cry from your throat. at your reaction he picked up the pace, now pounding into you and rendering you a moaning, panting mess. you’d never felt this good before, feeling the heat pooling in your core and building up with pressure.

you felt like you were drifting away from yourself, from reality. you couldn’t hear any outside sounds or see anything besides the white taking over your vision. you weren’t even thinking. all of your senses were overtaken by one thing; yangyang. your body ached with the need to feel him even deeper inside of you. you wanted him to push himself into you as far as he could and plant his seed there. you wanted him to mark you on the inside, in the deepest, most intimate way. it was all you could think.

"please,” your voice sounded separate from you, struggling to form the words, “please fill me. want you to fill me up. make me yours.”

yangyang felt like his arms were going to give out on him, the meaning of what you said flashing in his mind and making him quake from deep within. you two had always played it safe, even though you were on birth control, he would always pull out and finish somewhere else. hearing you ask for him to finish inside you had his control slipping, his movements growing sloppier as he chased that feeling.

he crashed his lips against yours, nodding and moaning against you. his hips drilled into you and had you tightening around him, the feeling drawing airy moans from his lips. the air was permeated with the sounds of skin slapping and heavy breathing, but the only thing he could focus on was your sweet voice.

lowering himself onto his elbows he slid his hands under your back, hugging you and burying his face in your neck as he felt himself nearing the edge. “you gonna come for me, baby? let go all over my dick while i fill you up?”

you whined and rut your hips up into his, dragging your nails across his back and making him hiss. you nodded, pleading with him to keep going, to give it to you, that being the only thought you could form. “i’m-”

everything went white, then seeped into a warm gold like sunlight pouring over you, your body as weightless as a fluffy cloud floating in the sky. the only thing keeping you on earth being yangyang’s touch and his smooth voice as he reached his high immediately after you, burying himself in you and filling you in your deepest part.

yangyang moaned against your neck as he rode out his high, lightly bucking his hips and milking himself in you, giving you every last drop in him.

you felt his cum in spurts, spilling into you and spreading heat to your womb. you’d never felt anything like it before. you felt full. you felt whole. and you felt absolutely weightless as you came down from your high, your senses flooded as you drifted back into the room.

when you opened your eyes you were met with the dim light pouring in from the living room and yangyang resting his head on your shoulder. everything seemed to have a rosy tint to your eyes, the room glowing faintly pink.

yangyang raised his head to look at you, a small smile coming to his lips and making him look like the cute boy you had fallen for some time ago. the sparkle in his eyes made your heart skip and you pulled him in for a kiss, melting into his touch. he let himself drop onto you, still seated inside of you.

when it came to yangyang, everything else fell away. there was nothing that took over your mind more than him. nothing that you made feel as whole as you did now. as complete as you did, just having him this close. you felt you could stay like this with him forever.

#yangyang #yangyang smut #wayv smut #wayv #liu yangyang #nct #nct smut #nct fanfic #wayv fanfic #im really so broken #i #i need a lobotomy #goodnight

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nocturnaldivinationsfallingstars · 3 years ago

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A Stray Bullet Part 5

Fandom: Gotham Characters: Victor Zsasz, female!reader, James Gordon. Warnings: Swearing, mentions of someone dying in a car accident. Summary: The reader is James Gordon’s sister and works for the GCPD and is dating Victor Zsasz. The reader has kept it a secret from her brother, until one day when she takes a bullet that was meant for him. Victor then shows up at James’ place to see the reader. Word count: 3689 A/N: I had to re-work the ending to this part as I added new parts to it.

Shifting your weight from one foot to the other a couple of times to relieve the pain you were starting to feel from having been standing for far longer than your body wanted you to be, your head hung low with your eyes cast to the dark wooden floor. You were staring at a spot where a shard of glass had slipped between the grooves of two bits of wood, finding it interesting all of a sudden. Balling your hands into fists by your side and then relaxed them, wiggling the stiffness from your fingers to expel the tension. You thought about all the ways you could possibly answer his persistent questioning on the subject. You could always tell him the unbridled truth about your relationship with Victor, of course, you’d omit more than a few private details about the matter. But realistically, what good would telling him the complete truth really do? Apart from causing an explosive argument to break out between the two of you, and even then he’d insert himself more forcibly into your personal affairs.

James hadn't always been that way, he used to give you some semblance of privacy when growing up. In fact, he had only been this way since your father had been killed in the car accident with a drunk driver a good few years ago now. Inserting himself into your life whenever something dangerous came along, becoming overprotective and doing whatever he could to make sure you're safe. When he became a detective at the GCPD it only seemed to amplify his need to keep you safe, and while it was sweet knowing that your brother is always going to be there, you felt as if it was a bit too much.

And well, Victor Zsasz just so happened to be 'something dangerous'. James' reaction to you dating the famed hitman that quite literally shot you would set off a rather volatile reaction. There was no way for you to predict how he would act. Not to mention he had a temper that needed to be kept in check, which he was doing so well with.

This meant James needed to know all about it, right? So he doesn't lose his temper? He should know, he's your brother after all and not to mention you usually told him everything. The good and the bad, well to an extent. This was different, more personal and gave way to more chances for James to lash out at you or Victor or both. It wasn't as if you could keep putting it off, since he'd find out about it sooner or later. Later would be a huge mess, however, telling him sooner could be just as bad. Perhaps you could settle on telling him half-truths? It wouldn't make him angry if you let some details slip while keeping the key ones close to your chest.

The most difficult part was trying to mentally convince yourself to do it. To tell him the truth, no matter how angry he is going to be about you keeping it a secret. Or at the very least to give him something small to go off of, anything at all to keep him from questioning you further. The choice was hard to make, but it needed to be made, and you were the only one who could make it.

With a firm nod of your head at your decision to tell him half-truths, your tongue shot out between your lips as you tilted your head to the side and finally managed to tear your gaze away from the glass shard between the floorboards and over to the couch where James currently resided. His arms crossed over his chest still, tapping away at his upper arms with his fingers impatiently, waiting for you to answer. You could tell he wanted to ask again and if you didn't give an answer he was going to be displeased with you.

"Okay," you breathed out to calm yourself, flexing your hands once more. "Grace was right, I am dating someone." You begrudgingly admitted in the hopes that the thick and heavy tension that fell around you and James like a thick blanket of smoke within the last couple of minutes would clear, and give way to something that would make breathing feel less like a chore than it seemed to feel like in this very moment.

Finally, admitting your secret to your brother seemed to make little to no difference, if anything it felt as if the tension had got far worse between you and James. It felt it coiled around your chest like a boa constrictor choking out its prey, making it exceptionally hard for you to breathe. You felt the full weight of your anticipation towards his reaction resting heavily on your shoulders, making you feel like it was getting harder to breathe.

You were hoping to blame the sudden feeling of weakness that began to wash over you on the fact that you've been shot twice and not on the fact that you've started to really worry. Your fingers curled and uncurled multiple times at your side, then pressed the palms of your hands against your thighs and stared at him. Waiting, watching for any hint of surprise, annoyance, anger, just anything to show you what he’s feeling.

"You're dating someone?" he asked, his gruff voice gaining your attention before you could allow your mind to wander. There were no underlying negative emotions as he spoke to you, still the tension remained and was in no way alleviated. In fact, it felt far more stifling now than moments ago when you admitted your secret aloud.

"Yes, I am." you answered in a low voice that's barely above a whisper. A single nod was all you could manage, taking a slow and small step backwards so that the back of your legs hit the soft cushions of the couch behind you. You automatically sat down as soon as you felt them, your hands going to your hap where you intertwined your fingers and rubbed your left thumb with the pad of your right nervously.

You averted your gaze, there was no way you could bring yourself to look at him. Not only that, but you could sense the disappointment dripping in his voice and radiating off of him, he tried his best to hide it, but you could still sense it. "Who is it?" he demanded, his voice raising even though he tried to fight the anger that boiled in his veins. Out of the corner of your eyes, you could see his knuckles starting to turn pale from how hard he's gripping at the fabric of his jacket.

Oh, how you regretted the words that came from your mouth.

A grim look darkened the features of your brother, who is very obviously irked about all the secrecy already. "Who is it?" The sound of his right foot tapping against the floor sent a shiver of worry down your spine as soon as you heard it. Somehow you missed the rapid movement of his leg bouncing up and down anxiously until now, and for a brief moment you allowed yourself to wonder about how you missed such a simple yet very noticeable action. However, that thought was soon dragged away from you when your brother grunted, thoughtful about his next words. "How long have you two been dating?" You could tell his anger was burning just beneath the surface of his skin, itching to get out, wanting to be known, but he had control over it. For now.

"A few months now," you had hoped that you'd never get to witness his full anger in your lifetime. However, you were clearly heading southbound to face it head on and be on the receiving end of it, none of which gave you much comfort right now. "I also can't tell you his name." You felt like you had been put under a microscope, almost as if all of your expressions, movements, etc, were being analysed for any hints of a lie.

James sat next to you quietly and rubbed his wrist with his hand a couple of times before yet another grunt escaped from his throat, he pushed his jacket aside with his hands and then placed them on his hips. He pushed himself up from his place on the couch, "A few months?" He moved to stand in front of you, pausing a mere couple of seconds with his back facing you before he turned sharply with a burning gaze that made your skin crawl as the invisible flames licked at your flesh violently.

"Well, actually, if you want me to be more accurate, it is more like eight months." You corrected sheepishly, ducking your head and raising your shoulders to your ears, suddenly feeling vulnerable.

"Eight? Eight fucking months?" He said slowly to get his mind around the news. You nodded your head in response and sucked your lower lip between your front teeth. You didn't know if you should say something or not, so you settled for keeping your mouth shut. "Jesus - fucking - Christ, you've not only been dating someone for eight whole months without even so much as a word about it to me. But you can't even tell me his damn name." James ran his hands through his short brown hair, "or is it because you won't tell me? Hmm? Can't or won't tell me?" He said in an accusatory tone and extended his arm out in front of himself, pointing a large index finger at you. "Because I have got to admit; it doesn't feel like you're being entirely honest with me [Y/N]." With a puff of air, you pressed your lips together into a thin line. Finally, managing to gather the courage to look him in the eyes. You still can't bring yourself to tell him who you're dating, but at least you told him you're dating someone.

You reached up and slapped his hand from your face, "I won't tell you." You growled out through gritted teeth.

“Okay, fine,” he huffed out angrily and threw his hands in the air. “Keep being stubborn.

Rolling your eyes, you shifted your body to stretch out along the couch now that it was free. Your side and shoulder throbbed, the phantom pain of the bullets tearing through you made you shiver involuntarily, "Jim, I know you want to know who it is, but I do need some privacy in my life you know." You shot back, suddenly feeling less scared about his underlying anger issues.

"Okay, I get that. But what if they're dangerous? What then?"

You stared up at him, mulling the question over and hummed, "he could very well be dangerous." He shook his head in disbelief to your answer, you answered so calmly, like it was a normal day-to-day thing to talk about. You continued to stare up at him, jutting your lower lip out into a pout, and nodded your head in acknowledgement to his question. It wasn't like you were fully admitting that Victor was dangerous, however you received a dark look from your brother which made you choke back a small laugh of amusement at his attitude towards the whole thing.

“Can you stop joking around for one damn minute?!” James snapped at you out of frustration for the second time that day. “This is a serious discussion.

There was no way you would joke about something like that when you told him that your boyfriend could be dangerous. After all, you knew very well that he was, but you found it exciting and hot. Not that you would admit that very personal fact to your brother, or Grace for that matter. You didn't want to deal with them judging you. "I wasn't joking when I said that, Jim. I was simply saying that knowing could be dangerous." You shrugged and paused, tilting your head to the side as the gears in your mind started to turn as you tried to think of something that would reassure your only surviving family. This time, however, your voice came out much quieter than before. "I can handle myself. Nothing bad will happen to me while I am with him.”

"Right," he murmured unconvincingly, his dark eyes drawn to the bloodied bandages wrapped around your shoulder and side, just peeking out from under the black fabric of your clean shirt. "And that's why you're here," he gestured your way, "because you can take care of yourself. Okay, yeah. Sure." It was clear that the way you held yourself, like a bird nursing a broken wing, did very little to convince him that you could take care of yourself. He didn't even need to say that you could barely walk and take care of yourself right now aloud, his unspoken point hung in the air between the two of you like an axe pendulum swinging violently ready to hit someone.

James waved a hand in the air as if to dismiss the conversation and blew a heavy breath of air from his lungs. "Just get some rest, we will talk about this in the morning. And you better give me answers."

"That was my plan," you yawned out. You felt exhaustion once again wrap its arms around you tightly. A small noise of satisfaction escaped your lips as you stretched your legs out in front of yourself, relieving the stiffness you felt in your joins. "You're not dad, Jim," keeping your tired dull eyes on your brother who turned his back on you and rolled his shoulders as he went to leave the living room with a quiet grumble about something you couldn't quite catch.

He had only just stepped foot out of the large living room when the loud generic ringtone of your phone rang out through the room, causing your breath to catch in your throat. "Who the hell is that?" James spun back around and stood in the alcove, his eyes scanning the room quickly for the locations of the sound. He most likely thought that he had dropped his phone in all the commotion from earlier, or perhaps Barbara had left hers here. You were hoping he didn't think it was yours and that he'd leave it and go straight to his room.

Your eyes darted towards your neatly folded trousers resting atop your boots and then back to your brother who followed your gaze with his eyes the next time you looked back over to where your phone lay. "[Y/N], who is that?" He repeated the question, taking a large step back into the room.

"That's Grace calling." you squeaked out. Of course, you were lying, Grace rarely called outside work hours. That was, unless it had to do with something important, like your case. You knew exactly who was calling you, and your brother apparently picked up on the lie as soon as it tumbled past your lips. He's always been good at picking up on your likes, and it was infuriating to say the least. The rise of your voice did nothing to make the lie any more believable to your brother’s ears.

"Is it him calling?" The question itself didn't give off the vibe of something you should be answering; it may as well be a rhetorical question since he already knows the answer. He was smart enough that he didn't need you telling him something he already knew. Instead, you chose to shake your head quickly, shooting up into a sitting where you instantly leaned forwards as if you're getting ready to race him to where your phone continued ringing kept coming from. Much like you and James would do while growing up and one of you wanted to use the landline before the other. His eyes narrowed at you as he watched the sudden shift in your body language.

You sat rigid on the edge of the couch cushion. Of course, it had to be Victor calling you, and now James knew that it's someone important to you. He rapidly closed the distance between himself and the location of your phone. Just as he swept your trousers up in his hands and started to search them, you lunged forward, and he turned his back on you, making you collide with his back. He pulled the phone out of the front pocket, but as soon as he did it stopped making a noise. James's brows raised as he looked down at the small square that lit up for the longest moment before it dimmed and went black.

"For the love of god, Jim! Can I please have my phone back?!" You sprang away from him and teetered back a couple of meters. You hoped to hell he would pass the phone back to you before Victor called again, which he would do since you didn't answer the first time around, and he must be worried about you after what happened at the GCPD. "Please?!" You clasped your hands together in front of yourself in a pleading gesture as he turned to you, phone in hand.

“It is him, right?” James asked again, at this point you were getting tired of the repetitive questions. He pressed you for an answer because deep down he knew he was right.

"Yes. It is him." You answered curtly through gritted teeth. Your fingertips and nails pressed into the skin of your knuckles so hard it was beginning to hurt and put strain on your fingers.

A playful smirk made its way onto James's lips as his eyes darted down to the small screen on the front of your phone, the screen still black since last time. "Does he call you every night?" He hooked the corner of his thumb under the lip of the phone and flipped it open with ease to reveal the screen, which cast a white and blue hue of light over his face. His thumb hovered over the buttons that are far too small for his giant man thumbs, returning his curiosity filled eyes back to you.

"No." An obvious lie. “He doesn’t call me every night.” Another blatant lie.

Humming thoughtfully, he pressed the dark grey button in the middle of a small cluster of buttons to bring up the other options on your phone. His eyes darting back and forth between you and your phone as he pressed the smaller arrow keys surrounding the grey button until he landed upon the call log. "Jim!" You snapped at him, tearing your hands apart to reach out and snatch your phone from his grasp, but he pulled his hand away with a click of his tongue.

"I am not doing anything," he teased, the smirk on his face only growing wider with the way you're acting, like it amuses him. You huffed and crossed your arms over your chest, stamping your foot on the floor like a child being told they couldn't have any more candy before going to bed.

"Relax, I am just playing with you." He sighed out and was about to press one of the buttons when the small black phone in his hand buzzed to life, the screen lighting up and garnering his attention again. The words 'V calling...' displayed on the screen. "Hello?" James shot you a questioning look as he pressed the green button alight on the keypad without hesitation, picking up in mere seconds of the melody starting up. "Hello?" He asked again, pulling the phone away from his ear and looking at the small object in confusion.

Reaching out again, you took advantage of him being distracted and took your phone away from him. "Stop being a fucking jerk, Jim!" yelling angrily at him as you slammed the phone closed to end the call. You could only imagine the look on Victor’s face when your brother answered instead of you. James held his hands up, his brows furrowing.

"Your friend or boyfriend didn't even answer." He told you, lowering his hands as you stood there glaring at him. "And who is V?" You rolled your eyes, curling your fingers around the casing of your phone, holding it to your protectively.

"He didn't answer because you answered my phone and not me." You said defensively, "and it’s honestly none of your damn business who 'V' is! You need to stop acting like dad and more like my fucking brother. Not only that, but you need to let me have my own damn life!" That came out sounding a lot harsher than you intended it to, so you slapped your free hand over your mouth in a failed attempt to keep the words in. Obviously it was too late, and the damage was already done. You stared at him with wide, worry-filled eyes.

James nodded and took a step back to give you some space, an apologetic look on his face. "I am just concerned about you. And I am trying to keep the only family I have left safe and alive." With that he turned and walked away, leaving you standing in the middle of the living room with your hand over your mouth staring after him. You only dropped your hand from your mouth when you heard the click of the light switch and the light went out throughout the apartment. "Just get some sleep," he called back to you before slamming the door to his room shut.

Shuffling backwards while being as careful as you could be as to not step on the remnants of glass scattered across the floor, you sat back down on the soft couch cushions and leaned back. Your eyes adjusted to the surrounding darkness, you could almost make out a few shapes here and there, a couple of shadows as well.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered out after him. You pulled the scratchy grey blanket from the back of the couch and over your shoulder, covering your lap with it. You felt bad for what you said to him, you didn’t mean to sound so harsh when you said it.

Tag list; @sunlitwritings, @nheirei, @the-ramblings, @milly-louise

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amarimaryllis · 4 years ago

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All The World Drops Dead (Oikawa x Reader)

Pairing: Oikawa/Reader, Slight!Iwaizumi/Reader (like very slight, microscopic kinda slight, almost as if it’s not there unless you read between the lines because it’s not explicitly stated kinda slight) Prompt/Summary: Loving Oikawa Tooru was a dream and maybe it was time to wake up. Alternatively, Oikawa leaves you behind to chase his dreams. Tags: Angst, Fluff Note: I used she/her pronouns for the reader, Bold Italicized sentences are excerpts from the poem “Mad Girl’s Love Song” by Sylvia Plath Warnings: Swearing, Crying (like, a lot), Kinda long (5.7k words), Haikyuu Timeskip Spoilers

Part of A Sensitivity to Ephemera

Loving Oikawa Tooru was a dream. It was hard-earned. Years of pining and pursuing took place before he ever even saw you in a romantic light. Three years in junior high school and an additional two years in high school. It was hard, but in the end, it was all worth it.

On the journey to what seemingly looked like forever, the name L/N Y/N had been associated with many titles.

Dedicated.

Lovesick.

Brave.

And on occasion, heard in the hushed whispers that echoed through the halls of Aoba Johsai, desperate.

Some part of you gloated once you had proved them all wrong at the end of your second year. It was a quick confession filled with mumbled words and hasty movements. You couldn’t even look the setter straight in the eyes as you mumbled a small “I’ve been in love with you since junior high, and I just needed to get it off my chest since we’ve been friends for a long time, and I felt guilty keeping it a secret from you.”

Impressively, you were able to say all of that in a single breath.

“I know.”

A single breath taken away from you the moment Oikawa Tooru cupped your cheeks and pressed the softest of kisses against your lips.

I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;

In that moment, as you lose yourself in the kiss of a boy you had once considered a distant dream, the world stops and there is nothing left but the warmth of his hands against your skin.

I lift my lids and all is born again.

Suddenly the world was back in motion as Oikawa pulled away from the kiss. Your eyes flutter open and before you, you see chocolate eyes and a charming smile.

“Hello? Earth to Y/N-chan?”

You’re pulled from your thoughts at the sound of Oikawa’s voice. You were brought to the present. Oikawa hugging you from behind as you sit between his legs, an alien movie of sorts playing on your laptop placed on the bed (You didn’t bother checking the title since it was Oikawa’s turn to choose anyway).

“Have the aliens taken my adorable girlfriend and replaced her with a clone?” You can practically see the pout on his face from his tone alone as he wraps his arms tighter around your waist.

Your face warms but you don’t fold as you answer in your most deadpan tone. “I can only wish.”

“How mean.” Oikawa rolls his eyes, but amusement is clearly written on his face. “Iwa-chan is rubbing off on you.”

“Probably cause I’ve known him for as long as I’ve known you.” You answered casually. “Although I’ll admit it’s probably cause I’ve been seeing him more than I’ve been seeing you.”

You were not meant to say that.

You did not mean to say that (out loud, at least).

Especially not with that bitter undertone laced in your words.

“Oh?” You can practically hear the smirk in Oikawa’s voice as he digs his fingers lightly into your sides. “Replacing me with Iwa-chan already? How mean~”

One part of you was thankful that Oikawa chose not to unpack the issue of his recent absences since you weren’t really ready to lay your feelings out in the open yet. However, another part of you realizes that you just dug your own grave, and Oikawa Tooru was probably going to be a little shit about what you just said.

“Maybe you need me to remind you who your boyfriend is?” Oikawa’s lips brush against the shell of your ear and you could feel the tiniest of shivers diffuse throughout your body.

He presses a kiss behind your ear. Your face warms. He follows the previous action with a tender kiss on your neck. You nearly combust.

But of course, for the sake of what’s left of your dignity, you bite back. “Maybe I do.”

You can feel Oikawa grin against your neck, as if he expected nothing less. “Perfect.”

Oikawa turns you around so that you’re straddling him, legs thrown over on both sides as you sit on his lap. He grabs you by your wrists and leads you to wrap your arms around his neck before his hands eventually find purchase on your hips.

I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed

And with that, he’s kissing you. It was almost as if he was trying to chase away any thoughts of Iwaizumi from your head with the way he was moving his lips against yours. Oikawa knew that he didn’t have to worry, but he can’t help it. He’d take any opportunity to kiss his girlfriend senseless.

And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.

Oikawa brings his hand to your nape, pulling you closer, deeper into the kiss, deeper into the dream created by the motion of his lips. There’s a desperation in his actions as if he was trying to make up for something.

And in that moment, you understood. This was his temporary apology. The way his hands trailed from your neck down your arms before it settled on your hips was his way of placating any possible hostility you may hold against him for his recent absence.

You didn’t really mind. You understood that he was busy, but you had the right to miss your boyfriend every now and then. The only thing you could do now was to take as much as you could of Oikawa Tooru before he’s once again pulled back to the whirlwind that is called his life.

Oikawa pulls away for a second before he’s back to pressing kisses on any expanse of skin that he can lay his lip upon without moving from the position you were both in. You were both so lost in your makeout-session--excuse the lack of a better term--that you weren’t able to hear the text notifications from Oikawa’s phone until someone was actually calling him.

“Babe, your phone’s ringing.” You managed to pull away from Oikawa to inform him, but he’s relentless, ignoring what you just said and the phone in favor of trailing kisses up and down your neck.

“Babe--”

Oikawa pulls away for a second. “Ignore it, they’ll probably give up soon.”

You roll your eyes and go back to kissing your boyfriend. You guys were getting back to the groove of things until it was once again interrupted by the ringing of Oikawa’s phone.

A groan of frustration leaves Oikawa’s throat at the disturbance, and you attempt to hold in your amusement at the irritated look he had on his face as he reached to the side and answered the phone.

“What?” You nearly snorted at how frustrated Oikawa sounded.

However, as the other person answered, that look of frustration was replaced with a softer gaze which made you furrow your eyebrows in confusion. The stream of confusion only grew when Oikawa patted your thighs, an unspoken request for you to get off him.

“Oh Yuki-chan, what’s up?” A smile was on Oikawa’s face.

The stream of confusion had slowly turned into a murky ocean of several emotions that you had not encountered in a while.

Uncertainty.

Insecurity.

Fear.

You knew only one Yuki, and that was Fujimoto Yuki. The darling of the school, loved by all who meet her for her beauty and gentle nature. Oikawa’s friend.

Oikawa’s ex-girlfriend.

“Sure! Library on the second floor, and same time as always?” Oikawa talks animatedly for a second before freezing as if he was realizing where he was. When he speaks again, it’s softer, but there’s a hint of restraint in his tone as if he was trying not to show just how overjoyed he was.

Your heart sinks for a second before you mentally slap yourself. You felt guilty for feeling some dislike for the girl that Oikawa was talking to, but some part of you felt that you were justified in your dislike considering that this was your boyfriend’s ex. His ex who broke up with him because he was too invested in volleyball.

You felt sick.

A few moments pass and Oikawa ends the call. An awkward silence fills the room. Neither of you talk.

“I’ve been--”

“Was that--”

You both speak at the same time. You gesture for Oikawa to speak first and he does.

“I’ve been tutoring Yuki-chan recently.” Oikawa sounds uncertain.It was as if he was walking on eggshells with how cautious he was being. “If you’re wondering.”

“Fujimoto Yuki?” You sat against the wall that your bed was pressed to. “Your ex?”

“My friend.” Oikawa winces at the tone in your voice.

You try to make sense of what’s going on, One part of you wanted to let out all the negative feelings that were bubbling in your chest, but the more logical part of you chose to tread carefully so that the conversation doesn’t end in an argument. “Is that why you haven’t been around these past few weeks?”

Oikawa’s breath hitches for a second. “Yeah.”

“Stop being so defensive then.” You mask the uncertainty that gripped at your chest with a teasing tone accompanied by a playful jab to Oikawa’s shoulder. “They’re just tutoring sessions, right?”

Oikawa takes the path of escape that you opened up for him as he gives you a small smile. “Yeah.”

For now, you were at ease. You crawled back into his arms and Oikawa doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around you before he presses a soft kiss onto your forehead.

“I love you.” You breathe out on his neck, heart racing with both love and fear racing through your veins.

Oikawa stills before he squeezes you tighter. “I know.”

That moment in your bedroom was now a thing of the distant past. It was forgotten, buried under several layers of denial. Looking back, you realized that the turmoil you felt then was nothing compared to the pure, unadulterated agony that threatened to rip you open at the present.

“Argentina?” You mumbled to yourself, repeating it in hopes that you’ll be able to make sense of what Oikawa had just said. “You’re going to Argentina in a month, and you’re only telling me now?”

Oikawa reached out to you, regret painted all over his face. “Babe-“

“Don’t-“ You pushed his hand away, and you almost felt guilty as a glassy veil took over Oikawa’s eyes, “-touch me.”

“I’m sorry.” Oikawa looks down, clenching his fists so tightly that he almost broke through the skin. “I didn’t want to ruin the remaining time we had left.”

You frowned, extremely confused. “What do you mean remaining-“

Ah. A look of realization settles on your face, and suddenly the fight within you dies. I get it now.

“So you just planned on leaving me then?” For the first time since the start of this conversation, you look Oikawa dead in the eye. “Leave me behind, no closure or anything. I’ll be left wondering where I went wrong or why I wasn’t enough. Is that it?”

You could see the tear roll down Oikawa’s cheek before he hastily wipes it away. Your jaw clenched and your throat felt tight. He had no right to cry when you were the one being left behind.

“I didn’t want to hurt you-”

“And look where we are, Tooru.” You hissed venomously, the pain slowly transitioning into anger. “I would’ve understood you know? I’d be more than willing to make it work-“

The split-second widening of Oikawa’s eyes was enough of an answer to you.

“Oh.” Your mouth opens and closes, but no words leave your mouth. The next thing you know, you’re choking on your tears as you lean against the wall, sliding down to the floor as you gasp for air.

Oikawa’s eyes widen and he immediately rushes to kneel beside you. He pulls you into his arms, rubbing your back gently as he urges you to let it all out. “Fuck, Y/N. Just breathe, okay? Let it all out.”

An ugly sob wretches itself from your throat and you can only grip onto the sleeves of Tooru’s sweater to ground yourself to the world around you. Your head pounds, and a sharp pain repeatedly stabs at your chest as you hold onto Oikawa Tooru as if he was the only thing keeping you afloat in the ocean of your turmoil.

“I’m so sorry.” Oikawa murmurs against your hair, and it is followed by his tears as they drop onto your head. “God, I’m so sorry. I love you so much. I’m sorry.”

Oikawa’s sobs are beginning to match your own as he tightens his hold around you.

All you can focus on is the fact that he said “I love you”.

It took a few minutes for both of you to calm down. Numerous tears had to be shed and endless sobs had to be released, and now, you both sit in the aftermath of your confrontation.

Oikawa still held you in his arms as he sat on the floor. His arms were still tight around your waist, and your arms were still locked around his neck. The perfect picture depicting two inseparable lovers if only one were willing to ignore tear-stained cheeks and the creases of sadness that seem to have etched itself onto their skin.

“I’m gonna come back.” Oikawa mumbles against your neck before he presses a soft kiss onto it. “I promise you. I will come back.”

“Go chase your dream, Tooru.” You mumble back as you bury your head deeper into his shoulder, lip trembling, fingers shaking. “I don’t want to be the one to stop you.”

“When I come back, I’ll win.” Oikawa tightens his hold as the tears threaten to fall from his eyes once more. “I’ll make you proud. I promise.”

You smile sadly, resignation settling into your veins. “I’ll be watching so you better win.”

Oikawa smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. He’s too guilty. Too conflicted. Too absorbed in his self-deprecation to fully smile. Regardless, he answers. “I promise.”

A month passes by. You don’t send Oikawa off. Only his friends and family were there, and you were nowhere to be found. Some part of him died at your absence, but another part of him was thankful because he probably wouldn’t have mustered the courage to get on that plane if he had to watch you slowly slip away from his grasp

You had both agreed that you’d enjoy the last month together. Oikawa thought it was best that you broke it off when he left for Argentina. He said it would be easier for you. You wondered if he was right. You wondered if you should’ve agreed. Oikawa was smart on and off the court, but emotions weren’t volleyballs that he could just toss around. Relationships weren’t game plans.

But it’s all in the past. From here on, you could only move forward. So you took up all you had, and you moved to Tokyo after you were accepted to a university in the capital.

The only connection you had left from your high school days was Iwaizumi. On occasion you’d talk to Matsukawa and Hanamaki, but it was Iwaizumi who had a more prominent role in your life. You had a strange bond, which was partially strengthened by the fact that you two were the people closest to Oikawa Tooru, and you were both left behind. The only difference between the two of you was that Iwaizumi still had contact with the setter while you had completely cut off all ties.

Aside from one tie, at least. From time to time, you’d find yourself looking through Oikawa’s social media profile. Just checking to see how he was doing.

If he was doing as badly as you were or if he had moved on.

It was what you were doing right now as you sat in a cafe waiting for Iwaizumi to show up to your usual “friendly” dates. The dates he liked to call “get Y/N’s dumb ass to move on from the dumbass called Shittykawa”. You were just about to click on Oikawa’s profile before someone suddenly took your phone.

It was Iwaizumi.

“Damn, what’s your problem?” You raised a brow as the former Seijoh ace took a sip from your coffee as he scrolled through your account, sitting down on the chair across from you. In all honesty, calling it a sip was an understatement, the man practically drank half of the cup’s content. Your eyebrow twitched in irritation.

“It’s unhealthy.” Iwaizumi answered once he had set the cup of coffee down, still scrolling through your phone.

“How is social media unhealthy?” You rolled your eyes, grumbling as you sipped what’s left of your coffee. “I’m just scrolling.”

“Makes you less productive.” Iwaizumi shrugs as he leans back on his chair, pointing an accusatory glace towards you. “Especially when you’re checking your ex’s Instagram.”

“I was not--”

Iwaizumi snorted. “Yes you were.”

“Yes I was.” You admitted, giving up since you knew that Iwaizumi was probably more stubborn than you.

“Y/N, you have to stop.” Iwaizumi tears his eyes from your phone for a second to emphasize his words. A look of concern along with something unreadable flashing through his eyes. “What’s the point of not communicating with him if you’re still gonna look at his profile every night.”

“Not every night.” You grumbled.

Iwaizumi scoffed and continued to scroll through your phone. Some part of him was also curious about Oikawa’s current life, and while he got updates from the setter through the calls, he hasn’t really seen his best friend’s profile in a while. “When’s the last time you checked—“

Iwaizumi stops himself as his eyes land on Oikawa’s most recent post and the caption attached to it.

‘Guess who I bumped into today’

When Oikawa Tooru left for Argentina, he had already accepted that it would be a fresh start. No one knew him there, and no one he knew was there. There were no expectations, and there was no image to uphold. And while that thought made him ecstatic beyond words, there’s always that melancholic undertone to the situation as he realizes that he’s completely alone. Sure, he had friends that he could play volleyball with, but Oikawa’s connection with them wasn’t as deep as the ones he formed in his own country. He chalked it up to his subpar Spanish-speaking skills. Perhaps the heavens knew that Oikawa Tooru, born with a silver-tongue and the face and body of a god, would be unstoppable if he knew how to speak Spanish fluently.

Which is why he was so shocked to see a familiar face holding a tray of food and asking if she could sit with him. The place was empty and the girl could literally sit anywhere, but Oikawa paid it no mind. All he knew was that before him was a reminder of home. Not home home, but Miyagi kind of home.

He never truly felt at home since her, but he didn’t want to dwell on that.

“So Yuki-chan,” Oikawa starts as he notes how the girl in front of him has changed since high school, “What brings you to Argentina?”

“School.” Yuki replies, an eager grin on her face as she looks at the man in front of her. “I needed a change of scenery.”

“Why Argentina?” Oikawa raises a brow. It was a harmless question on his end. He never really liked small talk, but he didn’t really have a choice. The woman across from him was practically a stranger. That’s what it felt like, at least.

Red floods Yuki’s cheeks and Oikawa realizes the implication.

His heart stops, and he wishes he had never asked. He didn’t need this. He didn’t want this. He genuinely hoped he was wrong, but the fidgety way Yuki moved and the way she bit down on her lip out of habit was enough to answer his question. Oikawa was familiar with that look. It was a look he had always put an effort to bring about when they were still together.

Yuki smiles, practically wearing her heart on her sleeve as she answers the setter. “Because you’re here.”

He didn’t like the sound of that at all.

Oikawa Tooru’s life was in Argentina, and you decided that maybe it was time to start accepting that. He had the path all ready for him, and all he had to do was walk through it. He’s earning decent money, living in a decent apartment, doing what he loves most—probably in more ways than one, you thought bitterly as you remembered the post Iwaizumi had shown you earlier in the cafe—and it’s all just working out for him.

So yes, maybe it was time to move on. It would be easy. If loving Oikawa Tooru was a dream, then so be it. Dreams were fleeting. Dreams were insignificant. All you needed to do was treat the memory of him the way you should be treating it. An unreachable reality. A product of the subconscious.

And with his absence, it has never been easier.

If only.

(I think I made you up inside my head.)

“Hajime.”

Iwaizumi cleared his throat to speak, mildly unsettled by your choice to call him by his name. You guys were walking down a dimly-lit alley, and he wouldn’t be surprised if that would be the last alley he ever sees considering the tone you used. “Yes?”

“I guess I have to wake up now, huh?”

Iwaizumi is baffled. Confused. Discombobulated. Genuinely wondering what you meant because maybe the heartbreak finally drove you insane. “The fuck?”

“Damn I was trying to be poetic too.” You gave an exaggerated sigh, a small amused smile tugging at the corner of your lips. “Way to kill the mood.”

“Do I look like I care?” Iwaizumi’s eye twitched.

“You’ll never get girls to like you if you’re so harsh, Iwa-chan~” You teased, attempting to lighten the mood. “It’s a miracle that Fuyumi-chan still likes you.”

“Shut up.”

He didn’t need other girls to like him. He didn’t need Sato Fuyumi’s one-sided affection. This. This moment was enough.

Years pass and you find yourself in the locker room of Japan’s Olympic Volleyball Team, supporting their trainer the way bridesmaids support the bride on her wedding day. You knew how much the match meant to Iwaizumi, and you knew that win or lose, he’d still be happy with whatever happens. However, Iwaizumi still has a competitive streak, and you knew that hell would have to freeze over before Iwaizumi Hajime stopped chasing victory.

“You nervous?” You asked, eyes trailing after Iwaizumi’s pacing form. His eyebrows were pinched together, and his lips were pulled into a straight line. “The match is in 30 minutes.”

“Don’t remind me.” Iwaizumi groans as he plops down on the bench beside you.

“They’ll be fine.” You smiled. “You’ve trained them well, and they’ve been giving their all.”

“What if we lose?” Iwaizumi asks, uncertainty lacing his voice.

You scoffed. “You’re probably used to it considering your old rivalry with Ushijima-san-“

Iwaizumi punches your arm.

“Hey that hurt!” You glared at the trainer while you attempted to soothe the point of impact.

“Good, it was meant to.” Iwaizumi smirks before it fades into a soft smile. A distant look glazes over his eyes before he continues speaking. “He’ll be there, you know.”

I fancied you’d return the way you said

“I know.” You shrugged. After so many years, the pain had become a dull ache. It may have been dull, but it was an ache nonetheless. “He did promise.”

Silence fills the room.

“Are you ready to face him?” Iwaizumi turns to look at you, attempting to gauge your reaction only to be met with a blank expression painted onto your face.

“Honestly,” You almost scoff as you start your lie with that word, “I think I’ll be better off not seeing him.”

Silence takes over.

You didn’t want to admit that you never truly moved on. You didn’t want to admit that all those years apart only made you better at hiding how devastated you were. While it’s true that the pain has dulled out, it seemed to be chronic. It’s manageable most of the time, but there are days where it flares up when you’re alone in your room and no one’s there to call you stupid for holding on. It always hits you as hard as it did in the past, sometimes it gets even worse. You were afraid that saying it out loud would solidify itself into your waking reality, not that it hasn’t, but you’d take whatever chance of denial you could get.

Loving Oikawa Tooru was no dream. It was a nightmare on repeat and you showed no signs of waking up.

The nightmare just got worse the moment he stepped onto the court and on your hopes of ever moving on. It grew out of control when he stepped off, victory smiling down on his figure, and his eyes were set on you.

So you did what you deemed to be the best course of action.

You ran away.

Kind of stupid now that you think about it, considering that your were quite literally running away from an Olympic athlete.

But I grow old and I forget your name

“Oikawa-san.” You bowed slightly before straightening up. You didn’t have a choice other than to act civil considering that the athlete cornered you in the corner of an empty hallway. “Congratulations on your victory.”

When you look up at Oikawa, you’re shocked to see the pain written on his face. His lips were parted, eyebrows were furrowed, and there was a glassy sheen glazing over his eyes. “Oikawa-san?”

Hearing his voice almost made you want to burst into tears, but you didn’t fold, choosing to clench your fists and grit your teeth in hopes that you’ll be able to keep your composure. “That’s your name, isn’t it?”

Oikawa’s mouth falls open fully, and unlike you, he’s not putting any effort into masking any emotion. He looked like he didn’t know what to say. It seemed that he wasn’t expecting the situation before him. “I’m sorry.”

You could feel the tears pricking at your eyes. You avert your gaze from his, turning it to the floor and hoping that he wouldn’t be able to see the tears that began to form. For a second, it felt like you were reliving your third year in high school. “You kept your promise. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

Oikawa reaches out towards you. “I’m sorry for leaving-”

“Don’t.” You hissed as you moved away, the last shreds of civility escaping your body. “If you didn’t leave you wouldn’t be here today, so don’t.”

“It was hard without you.” Oikawa sounds defeated as speaks. If he had a goal in mind when he cornered you, it seemed that the said goal was now out of reach. The flame in his eyes when he approached you was slowly dwindling. “Sometimes I wonder if I should’ve listened to you and made it work-”

You could feel your head starting to pound. “Oikawa, don’t-”

Oikawa continues speaking, fim, determined. “Sometimes I wonder what it would’ve been like if I still had you by my side even if you were halfway across the world-”

You could feel your throat constricting as the tears began to fall from your eyes.

“Sometimes I wonder what it would’ve been like if I had asked you to come with me-”

Yuki’s face flashes through your mind, and you break. “Can you just stop?!”

Oikawa looked like he expected that from you because he was unfazed at your tone. “I’ve been away from you for almost seven years, and every night was hell.”

“Every night was hell, as if.” You hissed through your tears, stepping away from Oikawa as you gave him the darkest glare you could muster. “You had Fujimoto at your side. You didn’t need me.”

For some reason, instead of the guilt that you were looking to find, you saw a rekindled flame slowly starting to blaze through his eyes. “I only met Fujimoto once.”

“I’m not your girlfriend. I don’t need your explanation.” You replied sharply as you turned your gaze to his shoes.

You don’t pull away when Oikawa pulls you to his chest to surround you with his embrace. You allowed yourself to enjoy this moment, just this one moment before you decided that it was time to let go.

You grip at his shirt as you speak, lip trembling, fingers shaking. “Just… I’m trying to move on, and you’re just making it harder for me.”

“What if I don't want you to move on?” Oikawa tightens his grip as he feels you attempt to pull away.

“Then you’re a selfish asshole.” You managed to hiss out, continuing to struggle in his hold. You knew that the longer you were in his arms, the less you would be willing to put up a fight.

“I love you.” Oikawa whispers, and all the fight within you dies.

“Don’t.” You choke out as your vision turns blurry from tears. “You don’t mean that.”

“I mean it. God, if it means that I have to tell you everyday, every hour, every minute just to convince you I will.” Oikawa is firm as he pulls away and looks you straight in the eyes. “I love you. I didn’t say it enough back then. Looking back, I never really did enough to let you know just how much I loved you. I understand if you want nothing to do with me, but please--”

Oikawa stops to close his eyes, taking a deep breath as he attempts to calm his racing heart, hands trembling as he holds you by the curve of your biceps. “Please, give me another chance.”

Silence engulfs the two of you.

You can feel the blood rushing to your head, throbbing, pulsing as you take in the words that had left Oikawa’s lips. Your throat goes dry, your limbs feel weightless, and for once in your life, you don’t know what to do. You didn’t have the guts to push Oikawa Tooru away. You loved him too much to ever truly get over him, and here he was presenting you a reason to not move on from his unyielding presence--even if he was physically absent--that had such a great influence over your life. On the other hand, you’ve had to endure years of heartbreak caused by his departure, and you weren’t sure if you could handle any more. It would be too difficult.

But you didn’t really give a shit anymore.

Oikawa's eyes blow wide open as your lips meet his. In that moment, he felt everything and nothing all at once. The world around him fades, and all he can focus on is the warmth of your hands that bleeds into his cheeks, the movement of your lips against his, and the feeling of your skin underneath his fingers as he kisses you back desperately.

When you pull away to catch your breath, Oikawa gives you a second before he presses you to the wall, wraps one arm around your waist, and rests his weight on one palm beside your head. He kisses you once more, desperation, regret, apology, and the promise of a better future bleeding through his kisses as he pulls you closer to his body, chest to chest, with only bone, muscle, and cloth to separate the hearts that--in the beginning of days--may have once belonged to the same body.

The waves calm and Oikawa speaks. He doesn’t ask--no--he says it with his whole chest, unwavering as conviction settles itself into his dark eyes.

“Come to Argentina with me.”

I should have loved a thunderbird instead;

At least when spring comes back they roar again.

Iwaizumi is leaning against the wall, smiling sadly to himself as he begins to stand up straight, preparing to walk away, whether it was from the venue or from the reason there’s a slight pang in his chest, he didn’t know.

His phone buzzes in his pocket, and a familiar name is shown along with a message that he deemed was the sender’s attempt to comfort him on his team’s loss.

Sato Fuyumi

I watched the game [5:31 PM]

You guys fought well so don’t be too down in the dumps, okay? [5:32 PM]

Iwaizumi smiles a little as he pockets the phone. Sato was right, they fought well, he fought well. Two years in middle school, three years in high school, and nearly seven years after, all he did was fight and hold on.

I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead

For a second, Iwaizumi closes his eyes and through them he sees flashes of countless memories: locks of hair, teary eyes, and the saddest face that looked a little out of place for someone who gave him a reason to smile.

Iwaizumi almost didn’t want to open his eyes. Maybe if he shut them a little longer then the images of an impossible future would become the reality of his waking world, but he knew it would never play out like that. Deep in his mind, in the darker corners of his head that was covered by layers of denial, the distant memory of a dimly-lit alley plays in his head. Iwaizumi scoffs as he realizes that he wasn’t the only one who still had their eyes shut.

(I think I made you up inside my head)

A lifeless chuckle escapes Iwaizumi’s lips as he tries to shut his eyes tighter, pain and frustration pooling underneath his lids. The realization hits him, and he resists the urge to cry because he had seen this happening before it even did, but he was too stubborn to admit it, too caught up in a dream that he’d eventually be violently ripped awake from.

Oikawa Tooru defeated him twice that day.

And the second loss was more painful.

A/N: I finally posted this one AHHHHH. I like to think that the writing style I used in this one was better than my previous ones in terms of imagery, but I don’t know, I’m still trying to find a solid writing style and PHEW it is difficult. Anyways, I hope you guys liked this one!

#oikawa x reader #iwaizumi x reader #oikawa tooru #iwaizumi hajime #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #genre.angstfluff #cont.spoilers #tw swearing #tw angst

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boizandgurlzinthehouse · 4 years ago

Text

𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 ♡

⤷𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳𝘴: 𝘱𝘪𝘦𝘵𝘳𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘹𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘧𝘧, 𝘭𝘰𝘬𝘪 𝘭𝘢𝘶𝘧𝘦𝘺𝘴𝘰𝘯, 𝘣𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘺 𝘣𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘴, 𝘵'𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘢 𝘶𝘥𝘢𝘬𝘶, 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘱𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦

[maladaptive daydreaming: psychiatric condition, causes intense daydreaming that distracts a person from their real life –but in a good, protecting way.]

𝙥𝙞𝙚𝙩𝙧𝙤 𝙢𝙖𝙭𝙞𝙢𝙤𝙛𝙛: at first, he thought that you are just simply bored from him, looking into the infinite distance (or arcoss the wall above his shoulder, or out on the window, lingering your eyes on the cute birds on the pylon). but then, we you told him your thingy thing, he got more protective of you, mainly when the two of you took long trips even at night on the metro or one of tony’s super machines back from a fight.

leaning on his shoulder, your hand slipping out from his grasp –he pats your head, waiting for your response, but when you let out a little sigh, he knows that you’re in your little world. looking around, pietro wraps his arm around you, kissing your head, even try to cover your ears if the noise is too loud –don’t even minding carrying you by your waist or in bridal style. when your daydreams disappears, you hold his hand, feeling comfortable around him. “i daydreamed again... sorry.” sitting down, he kneels before you, brushing through your hand too, slowly raising up to kiss you softly, not wanting to rush out from your haze because of the after-effects.

“don’t worry, baby”, he mutters, helping you up to go ahead. “let’s get you home and nap, hm?”

𝙡𝙤𝙠𝙞 𝙡𝙖𝙪𝙛𝙚𝙮𝙨𝙤𝙣: he reads your mind immediately when you doze off, seeing nothing but tender, soft pictures about your imagination. brushing your shoulder, when you just blink up to him, waking up from the dream, wiggling and gasping a little bit. “loki, i-i... i have to tell you something. it is too bad, but i have these daily beddings, sometimes persistent, sometimes not, and when i’m not paying attention to you, i’m just–” you babble, but loki only touches your forehead with the pads of his fingers, brushing down on your eyes to close it.

“i know, my queen.” manipulating your fantasy, he shows you the most beautiful, most marvellous things he had ever seen, stroking your soul –seeing your musing, faint smile, he ends slowly, in case if he’s leaving a too big space in your head. “you liked it, sweet queen?” “yes, of course, this is so wonderful, ethereal...”

“just like you.” flashing his glorious smile, placing a kiss on the crown of your head.

after that, he tells to every slave that if you’re in your dream-state, don’t them dare to disturb you. loki even speaks with frigga, trying to decode your dreams. when some mindless freak tries to harm you because of this, he will fight them with your manner: sneaking into his head, tearing them apart to leave you alone. he tries to protect your little world with everything he has, i promise you.

𝙗𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙮 𝙗𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙚𝙨: in the beginning, bucky thought your dreams are bad dreams, or bad memories, just like his –when he saw that your glazy eyes, neutral features, bucky tried to ‘wake you up’, and this little action kinda ended in your freak-out, shaking a little bit, babbling something like –“i’m fine, bucky, sweetheart, don’t worry...” seeing that you’re a little fright, shaken up from your deepest fantasies, he tries to make it up to you.

“sorry, doll... i just thought that you have some bad stuff too, and i don’t want you to suffer. but shaking is not the best option, i know.” you giggled at his words, grabbing with both of your hands his mechanic one.

“don’t worry, it happens very often with me. these times i wander to my little universe, filled up with people, with things i like... with you.” seeing his shy smile, you look up at him. at night, with you in his arms, he thought about your talent all day –“what do you think, can i grow my own world too?” he asks, curling a lock behind your ear as you place your head on his chest.

“of course, buck. everybody can do this, i’m just... pro about this thing. just try to think on only good places, people or memories you have, and let your mind bury yourself under it.”

“it sounds a little bit scary, doll, you sure you’re alright with doing this?” you hum, placing a kiss to the place where his collarbone met his shoulder, poking out a little bit. while you drive off into fairly dreams, he tries to think on the things you told him –mostly on you. like here, laying with him in the peace of the night, your silky hair touching his skin.

pulling up the blanket to cover you, he maybe began to like this little world-thing with you.

𝙩'𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙖 𝙪𝙙𝙖𝙠𝙪: t’challa knows the importance of the healthy soul and the poise of the mind –but still a little bit surprised about your almost die-hard self-discovery. when the two of you first met, you were with natasha (i think on the congress of the sokovian pact –even if you don’t sign it), you zone out a little bit, only shaking back to the earth when your friend asks you. he find himself impressed with you very fast, despite that sometimes you get lost in your thoughts, you have a very bright mind, and your personality is really interesting for him. but he’s still find your daydreaming a little bit worrisome –t’challa respects you rather than asking you something inconvenient, so he asks his sister, who’s also one of your best friends.

“so, y/n”, shuri starts when she parts from her microscope, rolling with her chair to another desk, grabbing some tissues and test tubes –“what about your tiredness? do you get enough sleep these days?”

you lolled your legs on the high counter, snapping your head to her side, nodding a little bit.

“yeah, i’m fine. i’m perfectly fine, i’m just... a daydreamer, i guess.” you told her about the facts, and narrated a little about the plots you had in your mind.

“that’s cool, i mean– i just asked because t’challa cares about you... i mean, i am too! he just mentioned that he want you to feel yourself in behavior.”

and on the other day, tomorrow, when he comes to you to offer you a breakfast, you just know that he really cares about you.

𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙥𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚: stephen would see your problems with his realistic mentality, and he thinks at first that you’re just frenzied, giddy, and can’t stay in the entity without being hypnotized. although, his worst kind of scenario is that you’re catatonic –but when you tell him, he’s very understanding, even if the rest of his friends think that stephen’s just a bit narcissitic. he would be overprotective if someone’s messed in you, even if you’re not there with him.

“how’s life, doc?” tony asked, turning to the half-broken or simply medium height pile, ignoring all bruce’s, wong’s and his worries about the enemy of the entire world.

“it’s strange.” he responds coldly, wanting to continue the talk with bruce about thanos, but tony in his irritating way, still interrupt it. “my life is substantially okay, but that’s not why we’re here.”

“what’s up with your weird friend... girlfriend? does she still get woozy, or it’s just when you’re around her?”

that was the time when stephen’s cape slapped down his leg, much to his astonishment but not to stephen. “what the heck was that, doc?”

“an expostulation. once, you keep cut off our converse, even if the world’s doom depends on it. secondly, my life is exactly not your business. and thirdly, you never can disregard or underrate my loved ones.” or loved one, he adds, ut only in his mind.

“woah, okay, easy doc. i just asked. i didn’t knew that you have feelings like normal people.”

stephen stares up, a laconic quip growling in his mind, but he don’t let it out. yeah, maybe he have feelings too. but only for you, for your freaky-dizzy self.

.*ೃ✧₊˚.❁ ↷

𝘪'𝘮 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘺 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘵, 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴. 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘺 𝘴𝘢𝘧𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵, 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘯𝘦𝘹𝘵 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦ᵘʷᵘ

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gojos-sidepiece-69 · 4 years ago

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Tokyo Tech Training- Chapter 1

"Hello Y/n?" You staring because I'm insanely attractive, or..."

You were instantly pulled back into reality, which unfortunately included the cocky, 6’ 3” bastard standing in front of you. His name was Gojo Satoru, but as he so enthusiastically reminded you, he was your superior and you were to call him Sensei. You felt a slight blush pepper your cheeks as you looked up and stuttered a defensive response, “What? N-no...” You could see the shadow of a smirk form around the corners of his irritating mouth. “All right, then try to pay attention. This is important.”

Gojo was in charge of training you alongside three other first-year Tokyo Tech students, and today happened to be your first day. You had barely gotten a chance to get acquainted with your new classmates, and your first impressions of the three included one pink-topped ball of energy, a spiky-haired lanky boy who had incredible eyelashes, and a quick-witted girl who seemed like a badass. You would get to know them later, you thought to yourself. For now, your first order of business was paying attention to what your Sensei was teaching you.

The classroom was small and hot, even more than usual for an August afternoon. You couldn’t tell if it was a bit warmer because you were alone in that classroom with a tall, (rather handsome man, however much you hated to admit to yourself). He was trying to explain the technicalities of Curses of various grades, drawing out diagrams and charts on a black chalkboard. Your eyes slowly wandered to his right hand, which was tightly gripping the chalk. How was his hand so large...your distracted eyes trailed along his arm to the back of his neck, and it was almost as if he could see you through the back of his head. He snapped around quickly and took two strides toward your desk.

He slapped his arms down on the desk and leaned down to tower over you, his face inches away from yours. Although he wore his blindfold, you could still feel his eyes piercing into yours. “Is this going to be a problem, sweetheart? Can’t pay attention to a single thing I’m teaching you?”

Sweetheart? Who the hell did he think he was? His Grade-A sarcasm was getting on your nerves. Embarrassed at being caught staring at your teacher, you averted your gaze and turned away. He took your chin between his thumb and index finger and turned you back towards him. In a much softer tone, he smiled and said “Come on, I know I’m dashing...but you just need to look past that and listen to what my pretty mouth is saying.” You wanted to slap him for making you feel so little...he let go of you and your face burned where he was gripping you. However, at the mention of his “pretty mouth,” part of you just had to check and see for yourself the truthfulness of this statement.

You sucked in air between your teeth as your eyes flitted over his lips. Pretty mouth, indeed. Did this man wear strawberry-flavored Lip-smackers? Why in the world were they so moisturized? I wonder how soft they are, you quietly thought to yourself...I wonder how good they feel.

You mentally steeled yourself and learned the rest of the lesson attentively, trying your hardest not to let your mind wander. You kept telling yourself that the heat was making you delirious. It was nothing else. When the lesson was finally over, you turned to walk out the door. “Wait, one more thing,” you heard Gojo say. As you twirled back around quickly, you could feel your uniform skirt ride up slightly. You could have sworn that for a split second, his gaze switched to your bare legs. But you would never know, as you had no idea what mysteries were under that blindfold.

From the other side of the classroom, he said, “We always have a beginning-of-term party at my place. It’s always a great time, and you can get to know your classmates and Sensei better. I’ll text you the address later, yeah? It’s tomorrow night at 9 PM. Better be there, sweetheart.” You knew that he was teasing you with that nickname because of your bitter attitude towards him, but a tiny (no, microscopic) part of you enjoyed it. Enjoyed being singled out by the strongest Jujutsu sorcerer. Although you were still somewhat intimidated by him, you couldn’t help but feel your confidence (or perhaps cockiness) arise. “We’ll see.” You said, and saw a slight raise in his eyebrows before you turned and walked out of the classroom.

You were glad it was Saturday, as the training from your first day at Tokyo Tech was overwhelming. You stretched and yawned, making your way out of your dorm room for the morning. Inside the hallway, you saw your fellow first-year sorcerers conversing sleepily with one another. They waved at you, the pink-haired boy named Yuji practically jumping up and down like a golden retriever puppy.

The spiky-haired boy named Megumi rolled his eyes at him and then looked over at you. The four of you chatted for a bit until Nobara suggested that you all go shopping together in downtown Tokyo on their day off. Your heart jumped at the thought; a day in Tokyo with your new friends, shopping for clothes you don’t need and buying far too many sweets? Your enormous sweet tooth was delighted at the thought. So you spent the rainy, cloudy day running from shop to street stall in Tokyo, laughing and taking stupid pictures and accidentally spilling strawberry Mochi on yourself. Damn-it, you thought. Why did the strawberry scent remind you of a certain teacher’s lips? No, stop it, you silently scolded yourself as you wiped the front of your shirt down furiously. Get your mind out of the gutter.

And just like that, it was almost 9 PM, and you were back at Tech getting ready with Nobara in her dorm room. Since it was a stormy night, you chose to wear black sweatpants and a fitted black long-sleeved top. Yes, you were a proprietor of the Bloutfit. And why not wear sweatpants, if it was storming outside and you were going to be drenched, anyways? You and Nobara ran through the rain and into a black Taxi cab, giving the driver the directions to Gojo’s address. After a fifteen minute drive, the driver parked in front of the sexiest high rise building you had ever seen. Did this fool live in a god damn penthouse? Where was he getting this much money? The more you learned about this man, the more curious you got. After paying the driver, you and Nobara dashed into the building but got soaked in the process. You huddled in the elevator, pushing the golden button for the 38th floor. You ascended and soon found yourself knocking on your Sensei’s door.

It was opened, and you made direct eye contact with Gojo’s chest. You took in the black sweatshirt he was wearing, and heard him say, “Hey, buddy. Eyes up here.” Boy, did he know how to make a fool out of you. “Hey,” you said, while looking up to meet his once again covered eyes. This time, however, he was wearing a pair of round sunglasses. You wanted to scream. Why wouldn’t he let anyone see his eyes? Whatever. You didn’t care.

Nobara, somehow perfectly dry now, pushed past him and made herself at home quickly, hopping onto a large plushy couch alongside Megumi and Yuji. How did she manage to get herself dried off? You guessed she was just further along with sorcery than you were. Sitting on the floor around the couch were three second-years, an innocent-looking boy named Toge, a tall, bespectacled girl named Maki, and a...yes, a large Panda. You still stood outdoors facing Gojo. “You’re wet,” he commented offhandedly. You were quick to stammer, “N-no, I’m not.” He leaned back into his doorframe and crossed his arms. “No, look at you, you’re soaked,” he replied, enjoying toying with your seemingly weak temperament. It took you a minute to realize he was talking about your clothes, not what was between your legs. You looked down and noticed your top clinging a little too tightly to your chest and swallowed. He laughed and said, “don’t sweat it, I’ll get you a change of clothes.”

He turned and you followed suit, trailing your wet footsteps through his apartment. You greeted your classmates and entered Gojo’s bedroom hesitantly. You immediately gasped, taking in the breathtaking view from the 38th floor of a Tokyo skyscraper. You were dazzled by the lights and whirring streetcars, and pressed your face and hands against the cool glass. You watched through the blur of raindrops, distracted until a slight touch at the small of your back made you jump. Gojo chuckled as you turned to face him. He handed you a black t-shirt of his, which was definitely five sizes too large on you. He so graciously turned around as you changed, but you soon came to realize you had another issue at hand.

Your bra was completely soaked through. Fuck, you thought. It better not be cold in his house. You put on his shirt, feeling conscious that you weren’t wearing anything underneath it. Luckily, it was rather warm in his room. “You can turn around now,” you said, and he took your wet clothes from you and disappeared into his bathroom. “All right, let’s get this party started!” He said when he came back, pulling you roughly by the arm back into the room with everyone else.

Yuji, ever the party animal, was in charge of the aux for the night. You laughed as he blasted “I wanna see some ass” by Jack Harlow, because of course he would. It felt like the apartment was shaking and your eardrums were going to burst from how loud the music was. You loved dancing at any chance you got, and so did everyone else at the party (except for Megumi, who took a little bit of convincing and hand-pulling from Nobara). Toge and Panda were linking arms and swinging each other around, Maki was busting down on the floor, and Nobara and Megumi were raising ruckus on top of the couch, occasionally grabbing onto a glass chandelier. Gojo was jumping from table to table, clearly having fun showing off.

Everyone had drinks in their hands and was getting absolutely sloshed in the presence of their ever-responsible adult chaperone, Gojo Sensei. Well, everyone but...you. You had a few, but you wanted to remember this night. Still vibing to this song, you jokingly started grinding you ass up against Yuji’s front and you both started laughing. After thirty more minutes of drinking and dancing, everyone crashed on the spot. Everyone except for you and your teacher.

You two were the only people there who were close to sober, thanks to your pacing and his insane alcohol tolerance (it’s the strongest)! “So, do these start-of-term parties usually turn in to sleepovers?” You jested. “Yeah, it’s much safer for them to sleep here if they’re wasted than try getting home on their own. Also, somehow the storm got ten times worse,” he chuckled. You smiled to yourself at how much he cared for his students. Your eyes wandered to his bedroom again, and he took notice immediately. “You liked the view, didn’t you? Want to come see it again?”

He took your arm and guided you once again to his room. He closed the door lightly and flopped onto his bed. You followed after him, inhibitions forgotten because of your two shots of sake. You laid up facing the ceiling, and he turned to face you, propped up on one elbow. You still stared at the ceiling, getting chills from his rudely staring eyes on you. Your chills, to your great misfortune, suddenly multiplied due to his AC suddenly blasting. Gojo’s eyes trailed down to your breasts, which looked delicious underneath his own loose black t-shirt. He swallowed, and he couldn’t deny that a little blood rushed south at the thought of him getting you aroused. “Cold isn’t it,” he pointed out, a long index finger taking a quick poke at one of your perked nipples. You felt your heart rate rise and fall more rapidly, and you turned to face this arrogant idiot who seemed to have a vice-like grip on your mind.

I’ll get him for that, you thought with vengeance, and straddled him while he was still laying down. You snatched off his sunglasses before his fast reflexes could help him, and your jaw dropped. “Oh my god,” you ogled at his crystal-like eyes. He laughed and quipped, “I knew you thought I was hot, sweetheart. You just won’t admit it to me.” You slanted your eyebrows angrily and said “I do not,” like a child. Like a third-grader refusing to admit they had a schoolgirl crush on their next-door-neighbor. “Really?” He raised an eyebrow and swiftly pulled down the band of your sweatpants with one finger. “Then why are you this wet?” He smiled, flashing you all of his stupid pearly whites. “I haven’t even touched you yet, princess.”

You gasped at the cold air hitting your bare skin, and looked down at yourself. There was no denying it, you were damp. “You know,” he said, slowly sitting up, “Jujutsu sorcerers have to be extremely in tune with all of their senses. Particularly touch.” He leaned in and whispered into your ear, “So consider this part of your training.”

Before you could snappily retort, he pulled you off of him and pinned you onto his white sheets. He towered above you, and smiled cunningly as he slipped off your sweatpants and snatched his shirt off from above your head. You laid before him in just a pair of black panties, (you are so committed to the Bloutfit), while he kneeled above you, still completely clothed. You appreciated the fact that he was wearing grey sweatpants, as you would see a growing erection pressed against them. You grew a bit conscious of the fact that you were almost completely exposed, while he was clothed, and you put up your hands to cover your chest. “Don’t even think about it,” Gojo tutted, prying your hands away and pinning them above your head with one of his hands. “Good girl,” he growled hungrily, and used his other hand to lightly grip your throat.

You closed your eyes and crashed your lips against his, immediately tasting sweet, sugary strawberry. His tongue ventured into your mouth and muffled a small moan of yours. He pulled back, and you could see a tiny trail of saliva connecting your lips. He kissed at your neck, marking his territory, and stopped right at your breasts.

He took a lap at one of your tits, swirling his tongue around the nipple. While his right hand kept both your arms pinned, his left fondled and played with your other breast. “Mmm....” he groaned with a smile. “Who knew you would taste so good?” He continued licking and squeezing at your breasts until you were a panting, blushing mess. He laughed at you. “Getting desperate, are we?” “Shut the fuck-,” you began whining at him, until you were shocked by one of his thumbs wrapping around the band of your panties. He pulled the band’s elastic and let it slap against your hip. “Stop being mean,” you whispered, and he let go of your arms.

He slowly lowered himself down between your legs and looked up at you. “No...” he tilted his head at you. “You’re going to beg for me. Won’t be so hard for you, since you’re so eager already,” he pointed out the wetness pooling between your thighs.

Instinctively, you closed your legs, feeling too nude. Again, Gojo sighed. “Aren’t you going to be a good girl and open your legs for me?” At this point, you could only moan quietly as he slowly opened your legs, and slipped off and placed your panties into the pocket of his sweatpants. “Wow, I wasn’t kidding. Your pretty little cunt is so wet for me.” He lowered his head and kissed a wet trail of sloppy kisses and bit up your right thigh, and then your left. He stopped right in front of your heat, and blew onto your clit. Exasperated, you begged, “please, Gojo. I need you right now.” “Where are your manners? Say the magic word.” He joked around.

How could this buffoon still be cracking jokes when he was between your legs, a centimeter away from ravishing your pussy with his tongue? You rolled your eyes and said, “please?” He looked up at you. “I was looking for Sensei, but I guess that’ll have to do.”

Once again not sparing you a chance to angrily reply, he dove in and licked circles around your swollen cunt until your legs were shaking. You gasped a breathy, “Gojo?!” as he slipped one of his long digits into your wetness, pumping in and out at a rapid pace that was making you lose your mind. You felt a buildup in your heat, threatening to release and wash over you. “Gojo, I-I think I’m gonna-,” but he wasn’t about to let that happen. Not yet. No, he was going to train you to cum when he wanted you to. So he pulled his finger out, and both of you moaned quietly (so as not to wake up your napping classmates and his napping students).

He shoved his finger into your mouth, eliciting a soft gag from you. “Lick it clean,” he instructed. You complied, tasting your own essence on his fingertips. He leaned back against his headboard. “Come here,” he said. He didn’t have to tell you twice.

You crawled over and straddled his lap, and you reached for the hem of his shirt. He laughed again at your helpless desperation, and removed it in one go. Your heart rate skyrocketed again as you took in his chiseled abs and broad chest. You were still panting and unsatisfied from Gojo not allowing your earlier release. He, however, was not tired out in the slightest. Of course, his stamina was unmatchable. He pulled the band of his own sweatpants down, and you were taken aback by his size. You knew he was tall, but...”I-I don’t think it’ll fit,” you muttered. He pulled your face down against his and mumbled against your lips, “I’ll make it fit.”

He leaned down and spit against your cunt, making you groan and buck your hips against him. “Was that a moan?” He asked in his usual, smart-ass tone. “Keep it down, will you? I don’t need you waking up the neighbors.” He put a large hand over your mouth, and simultaneously slid up into you. You wanted to cry at the stretch he gave you, but your ego couldn’t let that happen. He watched you get yourself off by moving up and down on his dick, going slowly at first. He wasn’t satisfied yet, so he gripped you around the hips and mercilessly moved you up and down himself. He watched, salivating, as your breasts bounced and you threw your head back. He muffled your moans, but he still smirked at the sound of you saying his name while drunk on pleasure. He wanted you to finish first, because being the last one standing was always a little boost to his overly-inflated ego.

“You can cum now. You’ve been wanting to for a while now, right? My little whore. Cum all over me.” This little round of dirty talk was enough to send you over the edge, and you held back your screams as you spasmed and collapsed onto him. He pulled out and came onto your chest, admiring how he painted it with himself. “You were such a good girl for me,” Gojo grinned. “Now let’s get you cleaned up.” He carried your limp body to the shower and helped clean himself off of you. He handed you another overly large t-shirt of his, because he loved seeing you wear his clothes and smell like him. Once back in the bed, he spread his legs and let you lay on top of him the entire night, while the storm continued to rage outside. Your last thoughts before drifting off into an undisturbed sleep were, “boy, does this moron know how to fuck.”

🌹

#gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo satoru #gojo sensei #jujutsu kaisen #jjk anime #jjk smut #anime #chapter 1 #long fic #fanfic #writing #fanfiction

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sassooda · 3 years ago

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Worlds Away JJK AU / Chapter 23 - Control

w/c - 6,439

Shoko is standing on the left side of Satoru as he lays unconscious on the medical table. The room is bright under the fluorescent lights, the walls white to match the tiled floor. “I never thought he would be one to wind up in here…” She looks up to Toji and Nanami, “I can definitely fix him up but are the seals really necessary?”

“That fucker lost his mind and went after Megumi.” Toji huffs as he looks down at Satoru. He’s still shirtless after using his wings to fly to the scene and then to fly the bastard back to the academy. Blood still on his off-white pants.

“They are indeed necessary because if he wakes up in that same state, we won’t be able to control him.” Nanami finds himself extremely torn on the idea of sealing Gojo’s powers, he really would rather get through to him if that were possible.

“So it was that bad, huh?” Shoko switches her gaze to Satoru as she continues to heal him. “This is just a hunch but I’m guessing there are certain levels of your newfound abilities Toji…” She runs her hand across Gojo’s forehead, brushing his hair away, “His infinity doesn’t recognize Elska at all, her transmitted wavelengths of energy disrupt their continuous flow.” She now looks back to Toji. “Did you feel or notice anything different when the attacks landed on him?”

Toji crosses his arms as he leans against the wall a few feet away, “It did feel different…almost like an additional surge from within packed the extra punch.” Some of his chest muscles twitch as he relives the powerful feeling.

“Megumi also reported that the exchange happened because Satoru was targeting the city…” Nanami’s voice minimizes knowing that he’s being put in an impossible situation in regards to other’s safety. He’s taking off his tanned suit jacket to become a little more comfortable.

She walks over to the table that has Elska’s bloodied wing and runs her hands along the metal feathers. “Toji, how are you feeling right now?”

“I’m fucking on edge what do you think?” Toji didn’t mean to be so snippy, he’s just feeling out of sorts.

“When was the last time you fed?” Shoko seems to be thinking heavily as she walks across the room for sample scraping tools.

“Two days.” Toji clenches his fists as he thinks about Elska being in the hands of the enemy.

“That’s not good.” Shoko is still completely composed after taking in all the information. “I’ve worked with Elska on this in the past, I may be able to create something to hold you over. This wing right here is the key to it all.”

All three of their eyes take to the wing. Toji winces as his eyes meet it.

“If I can’t though, you’ll have to feed from someone else…” She looks over to Gojo, “We know his blood suffices for Elska so maybe that would work too.”

“He tastes like SHIT I am not interested.” The very thought of having to find nourishment through Gojo makes his skin crawl. “Please do what you can but I’m planning on rescuing them.”

“Her original purpose for being brought to this world was to eliminate Satoru…” Nanami finally chimes in, “…but now we know anyone else like her might hold the same capabilities as well. What I don’t understand is, if there was an entire world of people like this, why choose her when she wasn’t willing?”

“That is strange, I wonder why as well…” Shoko is now leaning over the wing on the waist high white countertop, scraping away tissue into a petri dish. “I’ll get on this right away Toji, just don’t go losing your cool too!” She winks at him as she applies the lid to the dish and sets it by her row of microscopes.

Toji is trying his best to remain calm due to everything that has happened but his heart breaks at the thought of the kid and her being in Getou’s hands. “We have to get them.”

Shoko is now back to healing Satoru, using her energy’s wavelengths to assist Gojo’s reverse technique to improve the rate at which it takes. “I’ve got this covered here if you two have other business to handle.”

“We are not leaving you alone with him until we know he’s mentally stable.” Nanami’s tone was law in this accord, his mind made up.

Just then Satoru shows signs of stirring. Toji jumps from the wall and is ready to strike if Gojo isn’t well. Nanami takes a step forward to be beside Toji with the same intent in mind. They all have to turn their eyes from the blinding blue light emitting from the talismans wrapped around his body, acting like restraints to assist the metal ones over his wrists and legs.

“What…what the…” Gojo’s eyes open slowly as he tries to move his body, “WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?!” Upon recognizing that he’s restrained he’s thrown into a wild reaction, jolting his body around trying to break free. “NOT AGAIN!!!!!!” He roars as his wounds begin to reopen, not having been fully addressed by this time.

Shoko hurriedly moves back to the side of him and slaps him across the face. Toji and Nanami gasp before charging over to the table.

“Gojo, what the FUCK do you think you’re doing acting this way?” Her voice is stern, almost motherly as she expresses her disappointment to his recent actions.

Gojo didn’t feel the pain from the slap but the action was enough to catch his attention. He glares up at her hatefully for a few seconds before his eyes water, following his features softening. “Why…why do you guys have me sealed like this…WHY?” He struggles a little more but not as rapidly as before. “WHAT THE FUCK YOU GUYS?” He snaps his head over to Toji and Nanami as he fears he’s been betrayed.

“Satoru, do you not recall trying to level the city?” Nanami is calmly walking towards his friend and even grabs his wrist gently. “You also tried to hurt Megumi…”

Gojo’s eyes are panicked as he listens to Nanami’s words. He doesn’t recall at first and thinks this is some weird psychological punishment of some sort so he yells like a mad man while flailing in the restraints, throwing his body against the metal table. “I wouldn’t attack Megumi!!! What the fuck!?”

“But you did shit head, you put my boy in your domain…” Toji’s face is completely burned over with discontent. “I had to break in to get him out.” Toji is snarling at the memories.

Gojo has a flash of realization as he does indeed remember doing the things he’s accused of. His eyes take to the ceiling, ignoring Shoko to his left and the men in the room. He tears up as he recalls viciously trying to end both Toji and Megumi. “Fuck…”

“You are far too powerful to lose control like that Gojo, you know better than this.” Shoko is wiping his tears away as they spill from the corners of his eyes. “You are one of my closest and oldest friends, I know you. What do you think Elska would say to that?”

Immediately Gojo begins to cry as the overwhelming facts of his Elska and Itadori reclaim his thoughts. “I didn’t mean to… I just…” He takes a second to breathe and control himself, “Getou is going to do horrible things, he already has.” He exhales heavily through his teeth as he looks to Shoko, “I’m sorry…” He then turns his head the best he can to look at Toji and Nanami, “Her wing…he ripped it out of her…” He wails in frustration as he considers his predicament. She is in trouble and he’s once again unable to move. That alone breaks him slightly. “I just want them back…”

Nanami squeezes his friend’s wrist with concern. “We’re going to get them Satoru but we need your help.” He frowns as he looks over the talismans that are still slightly glowing blue where the kanji ink sits. “You can’t do that again, I probably shouldn’t even risk letting you out of this.” His brow furrows further and he removes his tinted glasses to look into Gojo’s eyes.

Gojo is clearly agitated by Nanami’s words but understands where he’s coming from. He’s just in an odd post-traumatic state from when he was sealed before. His pain that he was able to ignore from the sudden adrenaline begins to set in. “God damnit, why am I hurting so bad?”

“I had to put a few holes in you before you stopped you obnoxious cunt.” Toji hasn’t made any effort to come closer now that he sees Gojo speaking, he doesn’t care to offer him any comfort either. “Next time you go after my boy though, that’s it…I’ll fucking kill you. We now know that I can too.”

Gojo’s eyes darken as they take to Toji’s direction. He doesn’t appreciate being spoken to like that, he’s still the strongest after all.

“Toji, that’s not helping but Gojo,” Shoko directs his chin to face her, “You understand the position you’ve put us in, right? We need to know that you’re good before we let you out of this.”

Gojo grunts and closes his eyes to regain his composure. That collected state of mind almost feels foreign to him as the recent events have skewed time, making it seem like 2 days were actually 2 years. “I get it.” Is all he says

“Now let me heal you up, it’ll be faster than your own technique that’s not used to healing you.” She smiles at him lovingly, knowing that he has to feel incredibly small like this. She has a lot of love for Gojo, they went through the academy together and have been the right kinds of strange to mesh well in a friendship. She’s also very taken by Elska and Itadori, as people and as scientific anomalies.

Nanami looks down to Gojo and smirks, “Maybe we need alcohol again.” A little chuckle leaves his lips as he brushes his own hair back. He sees Satoru smile briefly as well and it brings him a little more at ease. “I know you care about them a lot Satoru but we need to go about this as a team. You can’t just go around hurting people, you’re past that now.”

Gojo’s eyes water slightly to this as he knows Nanami is probably the only person that is completely familiar with Gojo’s evolution of becoming a better man. He knows he messed up severely and also recognizes that if he doesn’t get his shit together soon then they’ll have that much less of a chance to save the two of them. “I know…” He takes in another deep breath, grasping more sanity and the room seems to relax as the talismans finally stop glowing.

“I do know that they want to enlist Sukuna as one of their own so Itadori might not be as in much danger. Getou hates Elska though which is why I think he did what he did…” Toji looks to her wing instinctually and feels a pit in his chest. ‘Master…” echoes through his ears internally. “Naoya contacted me recently…” He sees Gojo’s eyes dart in his direction, “It was before all of this obviously you dumb fuck. He was asking for my help with making her a Zenin…he doesn’t seem to trust Getou’s intentions either.”

“They’re both irreplaceable to us and in many ways.” Nanami is now leaning against the metal table with his back by Gojo’s legs. “What of your inside man Toji?”

“I’ve tried to contact Choso and Naoya both, they aren’t answering.” Toji unfolds his arms and walks to the foot of the metal table, being the last one to surround him. He grabs Gojo’s ankles firmly and says, “Are you going to make me save them by myself you fucking fool?” His mannerisms are unkind but there’s a trace of friendliness as well.

“I want them back…” Gojo looks to Toji, not acknowledging his hands on his ankles.

Toji may not necessarily like Gojo but knows they have a common goal. “I wish I could say that Naoya would be protecting her but I don’t understand how Getou got ahold of her wing if he was…I actually fear the worst there.”

“I hate to say it but I don’t think Naoya would’ve allowed that either.” Gojo is trying his best to remain calm as they discuss the severities further. “I know he cares about her, it was written all over his face when we last met.” Gojo proceeds to think of that weird dynamic and situation from when Elska and everyone saved him before. A part of him begins to imagine Naoya wrapping his arms around her protectively and for some reason he’s not enraged by it but feels saddened. ‘God Damnit…’

“I do know that Naoya and Choso are likely to break away from Getou but he’s strong. If we do succeed in defeating him, then we’ll have to worry about the Zenin clan immediately afterwards.” Toji has since removed his hands from Gojo and is folding his arms again, “But perhaps we can cross that bridge when we come to it.”

“I’ll kill them all if I have to.” Gojo’s voice wasn’t erratic or even emotional but it disturbed everyone in the room.

“If you want to make her situation better then you absolutely cannot just fucking kill everyone Satoru, what the fuck is the matter with you?” Nanami is losing his patience, knowing that Gojo is capable of controlling himself but is wondering if Gojo’s just declining to do so.

“I JUST WANT THEM BACK DAMNIT!” Gojo tries to lift up from the table but his neck will only bend so far while laid out flat causing him to give up and hit the back of his head.

“Take a few to cool off Satoru. We’re not letting you out until you do.” Nanami is always so forward but knows it’s for the best. Sugar coating this for him won’t do anything but bite them in the ass later.

“Fuck you.” Gojo is back to staring at the ceiling.

“I love you too buddy.” Nanami cackles to Gojo’s response. He felt the truth in his words but also understands his friend pretty well, knowing that he’s just reeling in the fact that they lost Itadori and Elska. Everyone is upset about it so he knows Gojo being her protector is especially fueled.

“Shoko, can’t I at least kill them?” Gojo’s eyes are no longer dark as he shoots them somewhat playfully to her.

“You crack me up Gojo!” She’s laughing at his deflective behavior as she rests a hand on his shoulder, “No you may not.” She’s serious but is still giggling. “There’s one more thing though…” Gojo is curiously looking to her, “I need some of your blood.”

“Well I’m not really in the position to refuse now am I?” He keeps trying to sit himself up as he grows more frustrated with being pinned lying down.

“It’s for the greater good, I promise!” Shoko smiles to him widely as she decides to hold off on explaining that it’s for Toji. Their relationship still seems pretty tumultuous at the moment.

“Go ahead then…” Gojo is fighting his anger as he comes to terms with the fact that they’re trying to help. “Do we have any plans in the making? How the fuck do we even find them without Choso?”

“I’ll work on that angle.” Toji is determined to contact one of them.

“And I’ll start putting a team together.” Nanami is grabbing his folded suit coat as he seems to be leaving the room. “Can I trust you Satoru?”

“I’m fine I promise…I won’t attack anyone…” Gojo tries to look over to Nanami but can’t. “Just get me out of this PLEASE.”

“I’m going to finish healing you first so why don’t you just sit back and relax for a few.” Shoko smiles to him again and is relieved to see that Gojo will comply. “Alright boys, do what you have to do, we’re ok here!”

Gojo’s eyes meet Toji’s again as the massive man stares him down. He can tell that Toji is still unsure about him and figures there was no getting around that. Instead of inciting more aggression from him though he just scoffs and looks away, not liking the feeling at being to their mercy at all.

“I’ll be back in a little bit to check on everything.” Toji now goes to leave the room.

When left alone Shoko grabs Gojo’s hand and holds it with both of her own. “Sweetie, you really have to be mindful, ok? Especially now that we know that Toji can hurt you… I don’t want any of that so please…please just get along alright?” Gojo’s eyes are expressing annoyance but she continues, “I know you miss them and are worried about her but we will get them back.” She now squeezes softly to administer more emotion to him. “She would be devastated if anything happened to you, is that what you want?”

“I just want to know they’re ok… I need her Shoko. I always have…”

“I know, I know… and we’ll fix all of this but you’re imperative for the rescue so knock off the villain shit alright?” She now brushes up and down his arm as she feels him relax more. “That’s not you anymore...you have to control it.”

He tears up again to hearing this, knowing he’s still actually quite evil on the inside but she knows this too. She’s merely asking him to keep himself in check.

“I will…but when I get my hands on Getou, I’m ripping his fucking body in two.”

“Now that I won’t argue against, he’s a lost cause.” They both smile at the verbally murderous exchange and he quietly thanks her as he breathes deeply to let her continue her healing.

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Naoya is heading back to Elska’s room with haste, not liking the idea of her being unguarded for even a second. He holds in his hands traditional styled yukatas threaded by his Zenin blue. He meant to already have clothes ready for her but completely forgot to incorporate that into the design of the room. He remembers how a couple of hours ago she asked him, “So, Naoya? Am I to just remain naked here or what?” She was half kidding but her shaman uniform that she arrived in was completely trashed by that point. He felt so embarrassed at missing such a huge detail, hoping that she knew he didn’t do that on purpose.

As he walks down the hall towards her room he catches Choso heading the opposite direction. “Cho!” He calls out to see the being halt and turn around. By the time he makes it to Choso, he’s standing a few doors away from Elska’s room. “Hey so how did it go with Ita-…”

“Naoya, cease your words!” Choso seems on edge and Naoya starts to worry that perhaps their reunion didn’t go as planned.

“There’s a Titer here, I can feel their technique.” Choso whispers cautiously. “I don’t know what they’re watching or doing… but someone definitely is. We can’t talk right now.”

Naoya’s eyes widen to this, thinking Getou enlisted one to force Elska’s cooperation and he darts to and through her door quickly. “ELSKA! Are you alright?!” He runs into the room in a frenzied state but finds her sitting on the couch with a book, unharmed and alone. “Holy SHIT, my heart!”

“I’m…fine?” Her look is of confusion as she sees Naoya’s demeanor ease and looks at all the fabric he’s carrying. “What is all of that?”

“Clothes!” He smiles and sets them down on the arm of the couch before going back out into the hallway to look for Choso but he was gone already. He fears he’ll be unable to openly speak to Choso about this now but figures he’ll find a way to communicate with him. He now shuts her door behind him as she’s already standing up and trying to figure out the cloth.

“You brought me bath robes?” She giggles as she holds up the top one, it looking too large to fit her.

“They’re traditional in my family and are called Yukata’s.” He smiles as he catches his breath and walks towards her, his anxiousness dissipating. She puts in on around her body, discarding the top silver sheet from the bed that she originally was wrapped in for modesty. He notices that she has not the first clue as to how to wear them. “That’s not at all how it goes,” He chuckles as he lifts the bundle of cloth to remove the under robe from the bottom of the pile the goes beneath it, “You can’t just be nude underneath this!!”

“Show me the way then Master Naoya” She jokingly offers a bow as she’s interested in learning exactly how to put all of it on.

He was in the process of wrapping the underwear robe before stopping to her words. ‘She said it…she said it!’ Hearing it felt better than he ever would have imagined, even if was in a different context than his fantasies. Seeing that she was bare he continued to help her with the dressing, smiling widely behind her as he adores this moment.

“No bra huh? I like this already!!” She places her arms through the sleeves and sees there’s two separate areas on both sides to tie it. She manages to figure this part out but as she’s tying the second knot, his arms wrap around her from behind.

“I’m so glad you’re alright…” he lowly speaks into her ear as he holds her there.

“I’ve not had any unexpected visitors if that’s what you’re worried about.” She places a hand on his forearm that’s draped above her chest.

He turns her around to face him and places a hand under her chin to lift her head towards him. “That’s good, it shall remain that way.” He leans in to kiss her lightly before grabbing the dark blue yukata. He opens it, outstretching his arms, allowing her to slide her right arm in first and then the left. She takes the robes and wraps them around her but he stops and corrects it. “The left side should always be on top, you wrap the right side against your body first.” He smiles as he shakes his head and positions the yukata properly. “Here hold it like this.” He waits for her to pinch the cloth on her right hip before he reaches for the first of two separate ties. “You first secure the robes with this!” He maneuvers the tie around her hips and waist before snugly knotting it on that same side. “You then have to either tie or tuck the rest of it. Now here, lift up your arms.” She does and he brings a second fastening cloth tie around her but this time beneath her bosom.

“You just wanted to touch me!” She giggles as he shrugs as if to agree but she knows there was more to this than just that.

“I always do” He finally retorts with kindness in his eyes. “You can put them down for now.” He’s shifting the fabric underneath the ties he’s made so that it overlaps in the front, hiding the fasteners. He then holds one hand on the front of her yukata while loosening the collar, “It’s also traditional to show off the nape of your neck but with class of course.” He creates the slack in the back of her collar and hums to how seductive she is, even with being fully clothed now. His lips meet her nape gently before he circles her again to grab the silver and black two-toned obi. “Typically this would be much more vibrant but these are what I was able to grab on short notice.”

“This is a lot of work!” She’s amazed by the process and how intricate donning traditional wear is. “I’m not so sure I would’ve figured this out on my own.” She’s laughing as he holds the thick long obi out in front of her, “That’s so long!”

“That’s what she said” He chuckles at his own joke nervously until she picks up on the meaning. He’s relieved she understood. He hangs and end of the obi over her right shoulder as he ties it from the front. “This goes behind you but if you’re really willing to learn I’ll demonstrate.” He gets down on his knees as he wraps it around her twice. The piece lying over her should now becomes orderly folded three times, to which he then grabs the other end of the obi to wrap it around the fold, creating an extravagant bow. “Now we just twist this behind you…” He’s back up to his feet as he shimmies it to the back. He backs away from her to take in the full view and finds himself overwhelmed with joy. “You look beautiful…”

She strikes a few little poses for him, finding that this was way harder to maneuver in than her normal clothes. She walks over to the mirror and stands back to see as much of it as she can. Naoya walks behind her and engulfs her body into his arms, them crossing underneath the obi. “Just like a princess…” He whispers behind her as he kisses the side of her head and cheek. He’s completely fine with seeing this for the rest of his life.

She turns around to face him and lean into the sink. Her hands cup his face as he leans down into her, their lips meeting passionately. The moment their tongues touch she feels her body temperature rising rapidly and her eyes glow through their lids. She feels him abruptly stop and instead of being met with his lustful eyes, she see’s that he looks concerned instead.

He pulls away after noticing the heat and the faintest trail of the scent. “Elska…” He fills his lungs with it while trying to remain focused. “We have to get that under control. It’s not safe for you if we don’t.” His words are almost at whisper volume again and she’s clearly picking up that there’s something more going on than she’s aware of.

“I don’t know if I can Naoya, you set them off randomly for me…” He brings her gaze to his chest as she lays her head against it. She just needs to be near him and loves it when he expresses the same urge.

“Well, we start training today then.” He grabs her shoulders and pushes her back a few inches so he can see her eyes. He’s back to whispering completely, “Getou doesn’t know about the pheromones or how your bite feels, it was an agreement Toji and I made months ago…” His hands start rubbing her shoulders, “If he finds out, I’ll be forced to kill him now…he’ll not let you go at that point.” Naoya wants her of course but knows that if they don’t figure that out soon then he won’t be the only one. ‘Getou knowing would spare her life automatically but at what cost?’ He’s not willing to find out.

“How exactly do we train for this then?” She’s not even sure how to go about that. “Even when I feed from you, it releases sometimes….” The hopelessness on her face is evident as she considers feeding less.

“If you react so rashly to me then maybe I shouldn’t be so handsy.” He immediately withdraws his caressing of her shoulder only to feel cold as he leaves her there standing without his touch.

“But I want you to be, you feel so good to me Naoya…” She’s upset that he’s right even if its not what she wants.

“Let’s try feeding for today then…maybe drink slower or something.” He’s realizing he doesn’t know how to train for this either. He’d probably feel a little more defeated about the whole thing if she wasn’t so pretty before him in his clan’s colors. “You really do look stunning in the Zenin blue.” His hand caresses her left cheek as the words leave his mouth. “I want to give you everything that I am but we have to survive this first my dear…” She nods in response and he feels a little less weighted about the situation.

He grabs her hand and brings her back to the couch as he sits down and guides her above. He’s sitting on something hard and pulls it out from underneath him. It was the book she was reading called ‘Lilith: The Best Mutual written by Nakiich.’ He smiles to her love for books and shifts their weight so can carefully place it on the cushion beside them. “Is it a good read?”

As her legs find their way on either side of him under her, she smiles and explains, “Yes it is! It’s a book that one of my favorite writers wrote about my other favorite writer.” She sees him not fully understanding, “It’s adult stuff Naoya, you’re too young for that.”

He wraps his arms around her and pulls her towards him as she squeals to his soft attack. “I’m pretty sure we’re about the same age my little minx.” He laughs, “You’ll just have to read it for me one day.” He’s still smiling but begins to unbutton his collar entirely so she doesn’t have to worry about working around it. She helps him by finishing the buttons while listening to the silence that’s only weakened by their breathing. When she’s finished he looks up to her glowing eyes and runs his hand up her left arm as she grabs his bicep for stability. “Remember to try going slower this time, we need to see if that’s a variable at all.”

She nods to him before aiming for neck. She stops as her face passes his cheek and pecs him on it before using her fangs to pierce him. His taste instantaneously forces a moan out her like it always does, the perfection that is his flavor has always swooned her. The sweetness of him, the care, the loyalty, his thoughts concerning her… everything was just so attractive.

He tries to hold his moan back but was unsuccessful as her draw from him feels nothing short of incredible. His hands find themselves gripping her thighs as she takes from him. “Go slow baby, we have to figure…figure this out.” He’s trying to remain level headed but is struggling to do so. He hears her whimpers and it causes him to grow beneath her. ‘No no little man…knock that off…’ he thinks as he fights so many urges at once. Her body temperature starts to rise as he feels his bulge nudging her. ‘Shit!’ He pulls her away as she pants above him, blood slowly spilling from his neck. She reaches down to close and heal the wounds and then opens her eyes.

She feels her heat regulating itself as she stares down into Naoya’s. She was close to releasing them but hasn’t fed enough nor is her other thirst quenched. Her physical thirst for him. “Naoya…” Her eyes are half lidded, her voice purposefully trying to entice him.

He looks up to her and hums as he battles himself. Of course he wants to take her to the bed but he’s worried about another incident like before occurring. He barely was able to lie his way out of that situation with Getou and isn’t even convinced that Getou believed him. “Elska… I don’t know if we should yet.”

She disagrees initially and bounces on him a few times, resting herself into his pitched tent. She whines his name again and she can tell he’s trying to hold back.

After her pressing the issue he shifts them both until he’s able to stand, her legs wrapping around him. She grins so widely and leans in to kiss him. He kisses her back but presses her back against the wall near the door. “Once we leave here, I swear by all that is good in this world that I will fill you as many times as you need. Whenever, wherever.” He kisses her cheek as he sees her understanding that he’s not going to have sex with her. “If I am to keep you safe my princess, then we have to be smart…now more than ever.” Her legs slowly release from around him and he sets her down gently onto her feet.

“Naoya, what else aren’t you telling me?” She’s frustrated with him but can’t be too angry. ‘He really does cherish me…’

His face is twisted in anger, “There’s a Titer somewhere on the premises… we don’t know what is being watched but I can almost guarantee it’s Getou using them, trying to figure you out…” He sighs as he engraves this moment into his brain, wanting to use this hatred for the man when the time comes to take him out.

“A Titer?” She knows she’s heard that before but asks him anyways for clarification. ‘That beast is watching us?’

“They’re a clan with mind altering capabilities and more… Gojo used them to manipulate your memories…” His eyes take to the wall beside her as he hates even speaking of that. He feels her hand cupping his face bringing back to face her own.

“That makes sense…” Is all she says while looking at him but her demeanor is still one that’s attentive to him. “Ok…I’ll stop pushing the issue…”

“It’s really difficult to refuse you Elska, I hope you understand how much I detest not making you happy.” He’s noticing that her yukata is already messed up and chuckles under his breath as he goes to reposition it.

“I don’t know how we’ll get through this part,” She laughs, “Because I am dripping over here.”

Naoya sighs heavily to this, knowing that he wants to check for himself but there’s no way that’ll end with anything other than melting into each other. “God damnit…why?” He throws his head back slightly as he tries to refrain from making any moves that may cause him regret. He thinks he has an idea of how to lessen the sexual tension but isn’t sure how to word it. She’s still looking at him caringly, her hands traveling around his arms. “Maybe…and just hear me out…” He feels himself blushing at the words he’s articulating while she curiously waits for what he has to say. “Maybe you should try…ummm…taking care of yourself before I come to see you.” He can’t even look at her and is embarrassed that he just suggested masturbation.

She quickly finds herself bellowing out laughter at how awkward he’s being. She doesn’t mean to tease him but she doesn’t want him to feel uncomfortable either, it was actually a legitimate possibility that could help. “Maybe if I do it to the thought of you.”

He quietly gasps at this and feels that didn’t hinder his erection at all. Unsure of how to react to her response he just looks at her and slowly smiles…he can’t even keep the straight face. “I will carry my weight and do the same…maybe to you as well.” The excitement in his words was painfully obvious to and he is now feeling awe at how easily they can communicate to each other.

“Maybe a bath will help to right now.” She sees his eye twitch after she spoke.

“You…you are killing me right now…” He says this but his vision is already taken by tub. He raises an eyebrow as he wonders if she’ll even be able to get out of the yukata by herself.

“I mean for you to join me Naoya…” She hugs him, resting her head into his chest as she doesn’t want to let him go, doesn’t want him to leave. “I swear I’ll stop trying to seduce you!” She’s back to giggling as this predicament is so strange altogether. She’s technically his prisoner but you wouldn’t guess that by their mutual affections, they seem almost domestic. “Don’t you want me to wash you again?”

“Arghhh, yes…yes I do…” He takes a deep breath to strengthen his resolve as he then grabs her hand and leads her towards the tub to turn on the water. ‘I can do this…no problem…’ He reaches around her to undo the obi, fighting with the damn thing for a minute, even with his expertise. One article of clothing at a time she’s reaching her bare state again. She looks up to him with an attitude as he’s yet to undress himself in the slightest. “Yes ma’am” He cackles as he doffs his own clothes. He feels her eyes scanning his body and although he loves that she’s so drawn to him, he wishes that fate would be less cruel. He steps into the tub as it fills, and holds her hand so she can do the same with ease. It’s such a large one but they seem to have found a single spot that they utilize, it’s the same one from the first bath together. As he sits back completely and follows her with his eyes, she leans over him to reach the small towels behind him tickled by his clear frustration as her breasts range in his face.

She starts with the blood on his neck from where he pulled her away earlier. He closes his eyes as he enjoys the feeling of his intended slowly wiping it away. He feels utterly relaxed as she kneels before him while the water fills their surrounding area. After she’s grazed almost the entirety his body with the towel, she goes to sit in his lap but in a curled-up manner that brings her head to his left shoulder and her knees near his right. His arms secure themselves around her and she begins to settle into him herself, also completely relaxed.

She wonders to herself how long this wonderful time with him will last. She’s tried not to think about the marriage part, she’s barely able to enjoy him without the guilt of knowing Toji and Satoru are probably worried sick. What would they think if they knew of how she spent her time there? She nuzzles into his chest deeper as she tries to forget the anxiety riddling her mind.

“Naoya…” she smiles into him as they soak in the filling tub.

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sumoattack-gooddog · 3 years ago

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DBH Hankcon fic - Human!Au where Connor was the other car

Chapter 1 - Do You Believe in Fate

ao3

“Do you believe in fate, Connor?”

“Excuse me?” He said, his thumb tracing the coin wedged between his index and middle finger.

Amanda leaned back in her thick leather chair, legs crossed and notebook placed squarely in her lap. She tapped her pen against the open page. “Do you believe in fate? Or any sort of higher power?”

Connor cleared his throat to cover the scoff that escaped him, “I– no, I do not. Why do you ask?”

Amanda made a small note as she answered, “Well, some people find that it is easier to process grief, pain, trauma, etcetera when they resign themself to something bigger than themself. It can ease the mind knowing everything happens for a reason.”

Connor looked away, his brows raised and lips pursed in a clear mental defiance.

“Talk to me, Connor, what is it you are thinking?” Amanda sat up straighter, eyes bearing into his soul. Directly to his loudly thumping heart.

“I am… Surprised by your approach today, I suppose. It’s unlike you, taking the religious route,” Connor confessed, looking back to her with his eyes but his body stayed turned away. Protecting himself from her gaze.

Amanda smirked offering him a shrug that he knew meant ‘fair enough,’ “I thought we should try a new approach today since you mentioned that the nightmares were getting worse last week. I don’t want to impose anything on to you, but taking a – I prefer the word spiritual to religious – spiritual approach can help alleviate some guilt or animosity. It wasn’t your fault you hit the car just as it wasn’t their fault the car hit you.”

“But it was their fault!” Connor turned, fully, back to Amanda, brows furrowed. He took a deep breath trying to compose himself. “I apologize for my outburst, Dr. Stern, but how am I supposed to believe everything happens for a reason when all I have to thank that driver for is a chronic pain in my neck, endless hospital bills, and PTSD?”

Amanda nodded sympathetically, but her eyes were cold and professionally distant as per usual. “Perhaps the reason hasn’t greeted you yet.”

Connor tossed the coin to his other hand, “Ah, yes, as if three years wasn’t enough time for fate to drop something in my lap.”

“I know you are angry and that is reasonable, understandable, but in order to allow yourself to grow you must be open to facing the future and not just the past.” Amanda brought herself to the edge of her seat, forcing Connor to focus on her exclusively. Her hair was kept back in a series of intricate, dark braids. Her dress flowed loosely, patterned in a gradient from white to navy blue. “You do good work, Connor. Important work. You can’t allow yourself to be in your head and not out on the field.”

“I know, Dr. Stern. I will not lose sight of my focus.” Connor held her gaze, face sure and determined, far more than he truly felt.

“Good,” Amanda relaxed her posture just a bit, but stayed close, “And how do you feel about your transfer to the DPD? You start today, yes?”

Connor adjusted his tie, “Yes. I am optimistic about the change, I think this will help me cut ties with the past… Like you suggested.” He felt like a slab under a microscope beneath her sharp gaze, and despite having just done it, Connor adjusted his tie, again. Of course Amanda’s eyes had been searching his own through out the entire session, but something about acknowledging the vulnerability of not just his past but the possibility of a future was intimidating.

“That’s very good to hear. I hope to discuss how you’re finding things over there at next week’s session, Connor.” Amanda stood, a measured smile on her lips. “Same time?”

Connor nodded, returning the look, “See you next Tuesday.”

Hank had experienced a lot of headaches in his day. Cold fronts, eye strain, dehydration, and the good ole temple pounding hangover headache, but none of them compared to the Jeffery Fowler’s bullshit induced headache. It was precisely that kind of headache that so kindly graced Hank like a slap in the face or a kick to the groin when he walked through the sliding double doors, past the mingling officers, and to his desk where he found… Someone else.

Leaning against the edge of his desk stood a young man, early thirties Hank guessed, and well quaffed. He wore a fitted grey blazer over a well tailored, white button down and a pair of dark jeans. The figure held a tablet in one hand while the other massaged his neck mindlessly. His dark hair was well styled, but a single, unruly curl obscured Hank’s view of his eyes, allowing the older man to only take in his flawless pale skin and sharp cheekbones.

“Can I, uh, help you?” Hank asked, an eyebrow quirked at the intruder.

“Lieutenant Anderson?” The young man asked, placing the tablet – Hank’s tablet, he now realized – back onto his desk.

Hank followed the movement with his eyes, trying to restrain the frustration that was beginning to gnaw his insides. “That would be me, yes.”

“Detective Connor Rkay, I’ll be your new partner.” His eyes were a deep and warm brown, big, almost doe like as he looked up at the older man. They seemed to search Hank with, what the Lieutenant could only identify as, an unwarranted familiarity. Connor didn’t offer a full smile, just a politely tight lipped one. A hand extended in greeting.

“Jeffery!” Hank growled, deep and authoritative.

If Connor didn’t know any better, he could’ve mistaken Hank for Fowler’s boss with such conviction and tone.

Rather than taking his hand, Hank latched onto Connor’s wrist, leading him like a disobedient child, to Fowler’s fishbowl of an office.

Hank slammed the door open, paying no mind to the phone pressed to Fowler’s ear.

The other man gave Hank an unimpressed look, shaking his head and rolling his eyes. “Yes, that’ll be fine. Call me if anything else comes up,” Fowler ended the call. “What is it, Hank?”

“The fuck is this,” Hank shouted, still holding Connor’s wrist and raising it as if he were a champion and not some puppet put on display for scrutiny.

Connor tolerated everything with elegance, face neutral and unbothered. It fucking pissed Hank off even more, and he dropped the young man’s wrist like it was poison.

Fowler pinched the bridge of his nose before turning his attention to Connor, “I’m sorry for the Lieutenant’s behavior, Detective.”

Connor only shrugged, knowing full well any other acceptance of the apology would surely worsen the superior officer’s already fowl mood.

Hank huffed, “Jeffery, I don’t need a partner. I haven’t had one since I made Lieutenant, so what’s the meaning of this?” He gestured to Connor as he took a step closer to the captain.

“I don’t wanna hear it, Hank. Don’t make me pull the superior officer card because I will if you keep up with this shit.” Fowler gestured between the two men, “You’re working with Rkay and that’s that. I read his file and I think you two will be a good team.”

“Bullshit,” Hank muttered, “Fuckin whatever, Jeffery.” He shook his head, his salt and pepper – well, mostly salt these days – hair swaying with the movement as he threw open the glass door.

The bullpen shuffled awkwardly, everyone averting their gaze as if they hadn’t been watching the men like a show at the aquarium.

Hank stomped back to his chair and threw himself into it with a groan.

Connor shuffled back to the desk a few moments later, “Lieutenant, I apologize for the disturbance to your normal routine here, but I do look forward to working with you. I believe we will make a good team.”

Hank allowed his eyes to lift from his monitor and up to Connor, his blue eyes raked over him sharply, offering death by a thousand cuts clear in his gaze. Unforgiving and hostile.

Connor straightened his tie, “Is there a desk I can use?”

“No one’s using that one,” Hank tilted his head, gesturing to the open desk across from him. He didn’t bother looking over at the detective as he shuffled over, took a seat, and turned on the computer. In fact, he didn’t look over until he heard the quick flutter of Connor’s fingers against the keyboard.

Connor’s eyes danced across the screen as he made his way through the terminal. His lips were drawn tight as he focused, his jawline all the more pronounced in the way he grit his teeth with concentration.

Hank couldn’t shake the vague familiarity of the man before him, and he realized the look Connor gave him earlier couldn’t have been for nothing.

“Is something the matter, Lieutenant?” Connor asked with the tilt of his head, swiveling his chair to face Hank who’s staring wasn’t nearly as subtle as he’d thought.

Hank felt like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar, there was no way he could successfully brush off that he’d been studying the man. “You look familiar. Where’d ya say you transferred from, Rkay?”

Connor’s rich eyes looked down, uncomfortably, “From Warren county.”

Hank’s heart dropped into his stomach, like a hot wave of whiskey but there was no pleasure to follow up the pain. The realization must have settled across his face like a neon sign because when Connor attempted to regain his conviction and look up at Hank it took no more than half a second for his gaze to drop back to his hands again.

“I, uh, I don’t really understand why Fowler partnered us, but I don’t doubt it had something to do with the accident,” Connor admitted. So much for leaving his past behind.

Hank raked a hand through his hair, “Fuck.”

His eyes were hot on Connor’s skin, raising the hairs on his neck. Connor retrieved the quarter from his pocket, gripping it tightly within his clammy palm. “Lieutenant, I am sorry about the accident–”

“Yeah, that’s not gonna fucking cut it, kid,” Hank scoffed.

Connor bit the bullet and met Hank’s fierce, steely gaze. The fire in those cold blue eyes could’ve made anyone shrink. Connor didn’t react, despite the way his skin crawled and his stomach twisted. His eyes were honest and apologetic, but he wasn’t dropping his commitment to the work they were meant to do just as he promised Amanda. He wasn’t giving up on his poise or his professional air despite Hank having lacked any since he walked through the door. “If you fear you cannot work with me efficiently, I would be happy to speak with Captain Fowler myself and request to be reassigned. I am here to focus on whatever cases we’re assigned, not wait for you to feel comfortable doing so.”

Hank grit his teeth, jaw jutting forward, “Okay, you little shit!” He raised to his feet, pointing a finger at the newcomer, “You come in here acting all high and mighty, giving me hell, making assumptions about my dedication to the job,” not that his assumptions were wrong, Hank knew, “Do you have any empathy? You fucking killed my kid, ruined my life, and now you’re gonna fuck up my job? I don’t know what Jeffery was thinking. You wanna be reassigned? Be my fucking guest, how you weren’t held accountable for manslaughter fuckin beats me.” Hank didn’t bother shutting down his terminal as he picked up his coat and headed for the doors. His cheeks flushed with a burning, bitter red. His thick brows bunched together, his forehead a bow of angry and harsh wrinkles.

Connor sat, fixed to his chair. The pain in his neck flaring up as his eyes trailed the Lieutenant’s long strides.

The bullpen had once again found an unpleasant lull in its usual chatter, captured by the live show that was the argument between the long time, jaded officer and the newly transferred, bright eyed detective.

“Get back to work, assholes!” Hank shouted as he stepped out.

Connor tried to ignore the many eyes on him, dipping his head down and finding comfort in the resume of slowly building chatter. He hadn’t killed anyone. That’s what he always told himself, but looking this grieving father in the eyes as he condemned him with vicious words made his mind stutter.

Perhaps fate was real, Connor thought, and if it was, it clearly had it out for him.

Chap2 Chap3 Chap4 Chap5 Chap6 Chap7 Chap8

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captainillogical · 4 years ago

Text

Home Ch.3

The domesticity of living with an alien who hasn’t quite had the chance at a normal life.

Distant Lands sequel.

Spinel/Reader

collab with my lovely wife @firstofficertightpants

Chapter Rating: Explicit

A/N: I’m sorry about the previous version guys, wasn’t my intention to write it that way, and thanks for all the feedback. Changed some things, added another thousand or so words, and re-wrote some dialogue. Thank you Star for all your help p:

This chapter is NSFW. I’m pretty sure one of the people that sent me shit was a minor, so I’d like to say this again, ya’ll. No minors.

"Why do 'ya seem a little out of breath? You run up the stairs?" Your girlfriend asks, raising an eyebrow.

"No reason," You lie, she doesn't need to know of whatever that was. It was probably nothing, anyway. You're just paranoid. "Met another human that lives a few floors down from us though."

"Another human lives here? Huh," She answers, interested. She's got half your boxes open, and has already stacked most of the books inside your bookcase in the living room. It's.. it's stacked like a fire hazard. You don't know what you were expecting. "Bismuth did say that more humans were starting to live in this area. Was he nice?"

"Yeah, he did ask me a lot of questions about you though."

She gives you a particular look. "Why'd he ask about me.."

"I might've mentioned I was living with my girlfriend." You say sheepishly.

"Aw jeez," She groans, wiping her face a bit dramatically with her gloved hand.

"Am I supposed to keep quiet about it?"

"No! No. I just haven't had the chance to tell any of our neighbors about it yet." She replies guiltily. She pushes a twintail over her shoulder, getting it out of the way as she digs into an open box.

"Spinel!" You hiss out.

"What! I've been busy!" She wails. "And also, two of the quartzes on this floor are such huge gossips that I've maybe avoided the conversation with them! They've pried SO much already about my past and it's kinda 'irritatin. I know once they figure out that you're livin' with me, they're gonna bombard me with even more questions."

"Ugh, okay, you get a pass today."

"Today," She repeats, deadpan. "I should get a pass whenever."

"Nah, you're not special enough." You chuckle, grabbing some of your books to restack them into something actually resembling a bookcase.

"I am to you," She pouts a little, which is really endearing.

"Ehhhhhhh," You start, sarcastically, until you feel a pinch on your ass and you cut off mid sentence to yelp. You whip your head around to glare at your girlfriend. "Spinel!"

"Deserved it." She grins, peering at you from the side. You contemplate throwing a book at her, but your stomach rumbles instead.

"Can you finish opening all of these boxes? I'm gonna make myself some food real quick," You say, finishing restacking that one shelf and walking into the kitchen. "I wanna be completely unpacked tonight if possible. I hate moving for this reason."

You hear her make an offended noise from the living room. "Was how I stacked these not good enough for you?!"

"I hate to break this to you, but like," You pause to open your fridge, rifling through what you bought earlier. "Pretty sure they were one bump away from being all over the floor."

"Looked fine to me."

"Have you ever had to organize anything, ever?" You take the ingredients out to make a sandwich, plopping the contents on the counter.

"..I think I'm more of the fun type, personally." She answers, and you hear her toss an empty box off to the side. You feel your phone buzz in your pocket, and opt to ignore it for a little bit while you feed yourself.

"Yeah? You think so?" You snicker, adding an extra slice of cheese to your ham sandwich. "I thought you were more of the 'village idiot' type."

She sputters, and you walk out of the kitchen with your sandwich in hand to see her glaring at you non-threateningly. "That's more of a you type."

"No way! You don't even have any proof." You take a bite out of your food in hand, watching her pull out some of your cute plushies that Steven has gifted you over the years. Sandwich is a bit dry.. shoulda put on more mayo. Oh well.

"Are 'ya fuckin' kidding me?" She stares at you, deadpan. Her left eye is twitching. "Why don't we revisit everything that happened on Golgotha? Hmmmmm?"

"Okay that's not completely fair," You take another bite, and chew it thoughtfully. "It's not like I asked for that to happen to me. It was all self preservation. Besides, it's not like you made it easy."

She opens her mouth to retort with something just as an arm comes out of your hair - she screams, making you drop your sandwich.

"W-WHAT IS THAT!?"

You grab the arm, and yank Steven out of the portal he's created through your hair. He tumbles to the floor, groaning and rubbing his butt.

"You could just, like, I don't know, knock?!" You hiss out at him, patting the side of your head. That was.. uh. That felt weird.

"Maybe you should read your texts sometime!" He groans, flopping on the floor, arms out. "My poor back.."

"My fucking sandwich," You sigh, feeling sad for what could've been your life had you been able to eat the rest of it. "You owe me another one."

"I'll make you twenty if you help me not embarrass myself in front of Connie's mom again."

"Deal." You grab his hand, helping lift him off the floor, and throw the rest of your destroyed sandwich into the garbage bin.

"Am I 'gonna get an explanation for that or are we ignoring it." Spinel says as she stares at the two of you like you've each grown another head.

"Oh, he can just do that now that he pink’d me.” You answer quite bluntly, and Steven opens his mouth in offense.

“Don’t call it that! But she’s technically right.” He gives you a tired look, and it makes you feel a little gleeful that you can still get this kind of reaction out of him whenever you want. “I can do it with Lars too, but he’s taken to threatening me whenever I do it now.”

“You interrupt him in the bathroom again?” You grin at him, and his cheeks color slightly.

“No!” He says all too quickly.

“Wait,” Spinel lowers her eyes to you, getting a strange expression on her face. She walks closer to you. “He can do that just whenever?”

“Yeah, I mean, I’m sure he’ll ask beforehand, but yes,” You reply to her, watching as she lifts a hand to your head. “What’re you-”

“-does that mean I can?” She jabs the side of your head with her gloved hand without waiting for an answer - you slap her hand away as Steven laughs.

“No,” You sigh, Spinel only looking a little put out. “Steven’s the only gem who can. That would be a nightmare otherwise.”

“Anyway, I also came over to give you an update.” Steven clears his throat.

“For what?” You ask, now concerned. “Couldn’t you have just texted?”

“What, so you can just not look at it or text me back?” He shoots a pointed look at you, and you only feel a little bit guilty. “No, I needed to change your schedule specifically to fit around two others, so your first lesson got moved up to a bigger slot. It’s tomorrow. I’m sorry for the short notice.”

You stare at him, unsure of what to say.

“If you’re not ready, I can have Pearl take over for the time being-”

“-No! No. It’s fine, I just needed to mentally adjust to it.” You shake your head vigorously, not wanting him to get the wrong idea. You feel the anxiety swirling in your gut, but you manage to push most of it down for now. “I’m basically done with all my prep for it, anyway.”

“Only if you’re sure, Y/N.” He looks at you like he’s waiting for your face to betray you of something, but you ignore it. “Because you can talk to me if you’re-”

“It’s fine, Steven.” You cut him off. “You worry too much. Besides, you’ve got bigger things on your plate. Y’know, like Mrs. Maheswaran’s divine judgement.”

“Ugggggghhh, thanks for the reminder.” He wipes his hand down his face dramatically. “She wants me to come over for dinner this weekend so she can talk to the two of us about something. I’m not even sure what.”

“Buddy, you know she’s gonna grill you about your future.” You reply, and peer into the open box to the left of you. It’s full of kitchen supplies.

“That’s guaranteed.” He sighs, grabbing some of the items from you and putting them away. Of course he’s helping without any kind of prompt. “I don’t mind it, but I’d like a single dinner with them where I’m not feeling like I’m putting on some kind of performance.”

Your anxiety is still at the forefront of your mind.

“It can’t be that bad.” Spinel turns to him, breaking down the empty box in her hand.

“You’ve never met Mrs. Maheswaran.” He retorts, placing your tea infusers into the silverware drawer and shutting it with a clank. “You have no idea what it feels like to talk to her. Sure she’s nice, but it’s like she’s always watching you under a little microscope..”

Spinel gives him some kind of snide response and snickers, and you hear Steven chuckle and holler out something in reply to that - but you had somehow tuned out the words as you opened the box to your bathroom supplies.

“Give me a few, I’m gonna put all these away real quick,” You manage to say to them before ducking into the bathroom, neither of them seeming to notice your brief change in mood as you leave the door three-quarters closed.

You can still hear them making jabs at each other while Steven talks to Spinel about all the pressure Connie’s mom has put him under the last few years, and you set your box down on the toilet.

Uggghhh, okay. You can deal with this. You have no idea why something as simple as moving a lesson up two days is fucking you up this much, but you’re gonna have to deal with it anyway. Why the fuck are you so nervous? You’ve dealt with worse. You have your lessons ready - they’re basic things anyway. It’s easy. Sure, there’s a big crowd for attendance which is a little unheard of, but maybe more gems want to befriend and understand humans than you had previously considered.

You grab your box of hair ties and scrunchies, and shove them under the sink. You don’t need extras right now. You can still feel the anxiety there, under your skin. You pick up your blow dryer and straightener, placing those down as well. Why did Steven seem like he was expecting you to back out?

Does he think you’re incapable of handling this? Is this some kind of test?

You pull out your phone to text Amethyst.

[21:42] Y/N: Quick question.

[21:42] Y/N: You think I’m capable of teaching those classes?

You set your phone down after hitting send, and grab all your soaps to put away as you wait for a reply. Spinel’s voice rings out from the living room, and you focus on the sound of it for the time being. You reach into the box again, and pull out all your hair dye supplies from a while ago.

Huh.

You turn the container of bleach around in your hand.

You stare at yourself in the mirror, and try not to wince at the reflection. You probably couldn’t.. right? You don’t think that your hair would take any kind of bleach or dye now. The utter irony is that you’ve experimented with every single other color for your hair before this, claiming you would never try pink to Steven.. and now it’s.. permanent.

Your phone buzzes on the counter. You pick it up.

[21:44] Amethyst: uhh.. yeah?

[21:44] Amethyst: the fuck you asking for?

Okay, well. Now you just seem paranoid.

[21:44] Y/N: No reason..

Your fingers are hovering over the keyboard, and as you’re figuring out what to continue to type, she shoots a text back nearly instantly.

[21:45] Amethyst: :/

You put your phone back into your pocket. You don’t really feel like asking what that face is for, because you think you know the answer.

You finish putting away the remnants of what was left in the box, and walk back out into the living room where Steven and Spinel are now talking about how he met Connie. You throw your empty box off to the side, and look at all the stuff you have left to unpack on the floor. It’s not much left, you’re well over two-thirds done at this point, and ohhhhhhhhhhh you forgot about your laundry.

You let the other two know that you’ll be back in a few - Spinel shoots you a look that you ignore, and you head downstairs.

Your mind wanders nervously the entire way down, and the laundry room is empty when you arrive to get your clothes. Amethyst texts you again, asking you if you're okay, and you shoot her a quick 'yup just peachy'. You get your dry clothes, placing them into your hamper, and you scurry back to your floor to avoid any weird confrontations.

When you get back inside, you manage to catch the tail end of a quiet mutter from Steven to Spinel before he quickly runs his sentence into something else, and at an increased volume to avoid suspicion. You opt to pretend you didn't notice, and you easily slide back into the conversation as the three of you finish what you had set out tonight to accomplish.

Steven ends up leaving the normal way after you and him have a heavy discussion laying on your living room floor about his dinner problem, and he gives you an especially hard hug after letting you know he'll drop by after your lesson tomorrow to see how it goes with lunch that he now owes you.

The door in front of you closes with a click, and you lock it for the night. Not that you're expecting anyone to barge in, but force of habit.

You're weirdly mentally exhausted.

"I think I'm gonna take a shower. I feel kinda gross." Is what you hear coming out of your mouth, and you move to grab fresh laundry out of your pile that you left on the couch.

“I’m gonna try to finally figure out how to work this TV, then.” She replies, and you make your way into the bathroom, shutting the door behind you.

You place your clean clothes on the toilet lid as you turn the shower on, letting the room fill up with steam as you take off your clothes and kick them into the corner to deal with later. You don't really wanna take a shower in silence, so you opt to put some music on in the background.

You pull the curtain back, steam rolling out and hitting you directly in the face as you step inside the tub. It's so scaldingly hot that you barely manage to hold back a scream as you adjust the temp and stand away from the stream.

After a couple seconds or so the water finally gets to a more reasonable temperature and you stand underneath it to let it soak you. It feels nice.

You look down to grab your shampoo, but instead see the gnarly scar on your stomach, and stop. You stare at it a while. The raised skin along the outer ring of where you basically got hole-punched feels weird. It's also a slightly darker pink than the rest of your skin, which you're still not really used to when you get a glimpse of yourself.

You remember the feeling of being pierced, and decide to stop thinking about this all together for now.

You grab the shampoo bottle and pour some into your hand, rubbing it into your scalp. You feel your muscles relax.

The door to the bathroom opens and closes, and all of a sudden you hear the shower curtain being pulled back.

"Do you MIND." You slap your arms around yourself self consciously, still having soap in your hair. You can't see shit but you know it's Spinel.

"Pfft, 'ya act like I've never seen you naked. Anyway, I just wanted to know how to turn on the TV? I can’t figure it out." She asks, letting the colder air of the bathroom in, and you can hear some water hitting the floor.

"Will you close the curtain," You reach out, grabbing the edge of the vinyl liner, just as Spinel opens it wider to step inside with you. "-what the fuck are you doing?"

"Oh, the water’s warm? This doesn’t feel too bad," You rinse the rest of your shampoo out, just to see her fully clothed half a foot from you, hand reaching out to touch the stream of water. Your heart is beating wildly - but you find yourself at ease with her presence in here, oddly enough. She’s watching you curiously.

"What, you can't figure the TV out yourself? And you thought I took cold showers, really?!" You scoff at her, unfazed at this point by her antics. "The fact that you're in here with clothes on kinda says everything about you."

"I can take 'em off." She says to you, like, duh Y/N, don't you even know me by now? You glare at her, which isn't hard since there's water being sprayed onto you and into your eyes, and she phases off her clothes, shoes and all in an instant. "Better?" She asks, like she’s doing you a favor.

"Gems don't need to take showers." You deadpan at her. "And weren't you trying to figure out the TV?"

"Just because I don't need to doesn't mean I can't. Also, I could help 'ya." She says cheekily, grinning a little.

"I don't need help bathing myself," You roll your eyes at her in jest, water starting to drench her hair. You think it’s really cute that she offers, but you’re sure she just wants a chance at messing around with you. Not that you’d really mind right now, and well.. you school your face into one that isn’t obvious to what you’re currently thinking about. You try not to focus too much on her gemstone in the middle of her chest, or her breasts, or those soft looking shoulders, or the rest of her naked expanse of skin - you need to stop before you get carried away. "..but I bet you would."

“Are ‘ya saying I can’t figure out something as simple as bathing? Something I’ve watched you do? Wow. I’m hurt, Y/N.” She feigns offense, looking around at the bottles of soap and shampoo products you have in here, picking them up and starting at the labels.

“Then try it.” You watch her eye a bar of soap, and then pick it up with her wet hands. It almost shoots out of her hands at you, and she barely manages to keep it within her grip hilariously enough.

“See, I know what I’m doing,” She says stubbornly, bringing the bar up to her nose to smell it. She rubs a bit of the suds off, wiping it on her palm curiously. All of a sudden, you get a really good idea.

“Yeah, and if you actually did, you’d know that that’s what I use to clean the inside of my mouth.” You raise your eyebrows at her, begging your own face to not betray you.

“Wait, really?!” Her eyes widen, giving you a slightly disturbed look. She peers at the soap, bringing it closer to her face. “I mean, it smells good and the shape is right..”

She licks it, and immediately gags. The look on her face of utter disgust is the best thing you’ve seen all week.

“AUUUUGH,” She wails, pushing her face into the water to scrape off the remaining soap, and the laugh that comes out of your mouth is so loud it echoes throughout the bathroom. “Y/N!”

“Gullible.” Is all you can say between laughs, and she musters a glare at you.

“I trusted you!”

“That was your mistake.” You retort with a grin. “I don’t eat soap. I’m surprised you believed that.”

“Never AGAIN.” She gags one more time, and you grab for your bottle of conditioner.

“Here, lemme show you.” You step outside of the constant stream of water, and trade places with Spinel. Once you’re done rubbing the conditioner into your own hair, you grab your shampoo for her. You look at her drenched in water, watching you closely. You won’t lie when it makes your heart flutter in your chest, and it feels a little like falling. “Can you take your hair down for this?”

“Oh, sure,” She makes quick work of undoing her hair, and yeah, you’re definitely staring at her now. You’re having a really hard time hiding it. Getting some shampoo in your hand, you have her step out of the water for a moment and start rubbing it into her scalp. She relaxes so much into your touch that you feel your heart start to beat a little faster. “Y/N?”

“Hm?” You answer.

“You seemed kind of off earlier.” She says, and you quickly rip your gaze from her. She definitely notices. “I could just.. tell.”

“It’s nothing, really.” You sigh, rubbing small circles into her scalp. You were kind of hoping she’d brush it off, but noooooo. She has to be observant.

She grabs your hands to still your motions momentarily, giving you a more serious look. “You wanna talk about it?”

“Nah, I’m just anxious about tomorrow, I’ll get over it.” You meet her eyes again, and hers waver between yours as if she’s searching for a different answer. Like she doesn’t really believe you, even though honestly, that’s all it really is. You feel a little something there in your chest when you realize that she’s only like this because she actually cares about you. “Don’t worry about me.” You insist, not really wanting to overthink the day you’ve got ahead of you.

“Want me to come to the lesson?" She offers as she drops your hands, tilting her head in question; a glob of shampoo suds run down the side of her neck. The sight is weirdly enticing.. or maybe you’re just a little pent up. Being here alone with her after what feels like forever, and naked on top of that has your brain thinking of things you probably shouldn’t be thinking of right now.

You’re only a little ashamed of yourself.

“Don’t you fucking dare, Spinel. You’ll just give me performance anxiety.” You resume massaging her scalp, managing to get some shampoo also into her ends. You briefly have a passing thought about not wanting to dry out her long strands, because split ends at this hair length fucking blow, and then you remember she’s a gem. That doesn’t even matter. You feel a little jealous that she doesn’t have to put these kinds of thoughts into her daily routine.

"I wouldn't do anything, promise. Maybe a comment or two, but that's it." She retorts as she brings her palms up in feign offense, and you push her gently back by her shoulders under the stream of water to rinse out her hair, careful to not get her eyes. She sighs as you run your fingers against her scalp, eyes nearly drooping she’s so relaxed. "This feels really nice.." She mumbles, and the way it has your heart feeling like someone’s dropped pop rocks into it..

"I know you have work to do tomorrow though, so don't shirk your duties.” You’re basically caressing her head at this point, and she’s totally leaning into it completely. You have a feeling if you dropped your hands from her head, it’d slam into a wall. “I'll ask Garnet to sit in since she offered."

"Y/N." She looks at you, water running down her hair and face, cascading over her small shoulders. The marks beneath her eyes are strikingly dark in this light, and her pink irises are locked onto yours. You're barely listening to the lofi song playing in the background as it's mainly drained out by the white noise of the shower. She's pretty, in a way that you probably think she's never considered before, and sometimes you wish you could say this out loud without feeling like you'd combust on the spot instead. She then opens her mouth almost hesitantly, like she's finding the proper words to say. "If 'ya need me, I can be there. But.. you're kind of the bravest person I know by a long shot, so.. I know you'll be okay. You've got this, doll."

You feel your face burning at the pet name and her words, and you find yourself avoiding her eyes again. You can’t even think of a reply, and feel like you might have a heart attack.

"Are you blushing?!" She grabs your forearms in glee, and you feel your face scowling just to cover up the fact that she can have this kind of effect on you. No one has this effect on you, and goddammit you’re not about to start showing it now.

"No, idiot. It's just hot in here.." You retort, and she leans right into your personal space, about an inch from your face. Your heartbeats feel so INCREDIBLY loud in your ears.

"Liar." Her grin gets wider, and you can see her canines right there at the edge of her lip. WHY is she so attractive?! This should be illegal. "I can keep talking 'ya up if that's what you need."

"Not necessary, or needed, really.." You trail off awkwardly, knowing your face is still beet red and pretending it’s from the heat of the shower.

"Did'ja know that you're also the funniest person I know? And the smartest? And the sexi-"

"-SPINEL." You cut her off with a choke, voice coming out all strangled.

"You've got 'ta be the most stubborn person alive, I swear." She lowers her eyes, gaze lingering on your lips. The way some of her water-logged hair clings to her skin has your eyes glued to her chest, and the gem that sits upon it.

"You should spend a few weeks hanging out with Pearl." You try to play it off cool, and you’re anything but.

"Why, when I'd rather spend it with you." She retorts with an eyeroll, and like, you know that the both of you have your affections laid out on the metaphorical table already, but you still find your face burning at her being so clear with it. “If it’s not compliments ‘ya want, I can be a distraction?” She asks, and then blinks several times rapidly in succession very comically, and you can’t help it but laugh.

“Yeah? And how?” You ask stupidly.

“Ohhhh, remember earlier in the kitchen?”

Your eyes snap to hers. Is she..

"Wait, you’re talking about doing it in the sho-"

She yanks your arms - pulling you forward into a kiss, and your foot slips so hard on the tub floor that you have to catch yourself on her shoulders. Her laughter rings out through the bathroom.

"Oh stars, Y/N falling into my arms? I never thought-"

"Shut uuuuuuuup," You groan, glaring at her. The thought of the two of you, here, fucking in the shower is swirling inside your head. Both of you are wet and pressed together, and you are screaming internally. "You're the one that caught me off guard, asshole."

"Maybe I just wanna see you swooning, for once. Or squirming. I'm not too choosy." The grin on her face mixed with her words has you feeling some kind of way, and you try to still your rapidly beating heart. She wants to see you squirm?! You're flattered, and also embarrassed..

"I don't swoon, Spinel. You know me better than that by now. And if you couldn't make me squirm before all this, when we weren't even friends, then good fucking luck with trying that out now that I'm familiar with you." You spit out, hoping the nervousness in your voice doesn't give you away. She doesn't need to know that you like it when she's a little aggressive and grabby. That would give her too much power.

Her eyes flicker across your face, catching onto something within your expression; her grin widens.

"Then why do you seem so nervous now?"

"Uh," Your heart jumps into your throat, and you feel the red creeping back onto your cheeks. Curse your now-pink complexion. "Pffft. What? I do not! Why the hell do you think I'm nervous!?" You lie, and it comes out of your throat an octave higher you think, which is fucking embarassing really.

"Well," She chuckles briefly, and then her face drops considerably into an expression you'd deem nearly sinister if you didn't know her.

"Um-"

She pushes you back against the shower wall behind you hard - a squeak comes out your mouth - as the air leaves your lungs, her hand splayed out on your chest into holding you there. It feels almost like silence has filled the room, when it's quite the opposite actually - the sound of the water hitting you both is quite deafening as you stare at each other. You think she can feel your heartbeats. Like, her hand is RIGHT THERE. Her thumb even rubs the skin there a little.

"I'm starting to think you like it when I manhandle you." She says, voice low. Her fingers are pressing into your sternum.

You take the time to breathe in some air, and try to blink like a normal person. A droplet of water runs down your lower spine and you fight off a shiver. Are you really that easy to read!?

"Your silence is speaking volumes right now." She chuckles, eyes watching you like a hawk.

You have no idea what your face is displaying, but it's probably something similar to mortified shock - how can she keep hitting the nail on the head?

"Oh, shit, am I hurting you?" She quickly pulls her hands away, nearly looking frantic as her face twists into worry at your silence.

"No, of course not-" You stop, getting a weird look on your face. "-I died, remember? You can't, pfft, - I mean you can, but. Spinel." You try not to laugh, because her being worried about this is extremely endearing, and you love her so, so much. "You're not hurting me, and if you were, I'd make sure you knew."

"Okay, good, because I was really worried there for a second that I had-"

"It's fine." You reassure her, and she's looking at you intently. "Seriously."

"Like, you know that I'd rather poof myself than ever put a finger on 'ya, right?"

"I'm aware, and you know that I trust you, yes?"

"I was 'kinda worried, but, it's clear now." She's so very close to your face, and she's warm. Her eyes take in your features as if she's burning them into her memories, and you can't help but stare back.

She kisses you again, wet lips pressing against yours so easily - it's as if she had been coordinating this as soon as she stepped into the shower with you. Or maybe this was her entire reason. Bastard.

She slides one of her legs between yours - yeah, okay, she was definitely planning this - and you find yourself groaning into her mouth; hot water spraying onto the both of you. You tear your face away from hers momentarily to take in a gasp of breath and she grabs your jaw, her vibrant pink irises locked onto yours.

"Breathe through your nose." She demands, not giving you any kind of opportunity to get away as she kisses you almost roughly. You feel like your entire body is on fire.

Her body's pressed against yours; and at this angle you can see her gemstone shining in the light above you, glistening with water. She slides her knee up to put pressure between your legs, and as to not make it so easy for her you attempt to slam them shut - only making the situation worse for yourself.

You moan as you feel her pressed against your clit, and you feel her grinning against your mouth. She slides her tongue in then, and the combined sensations has your head feeling a little light. It actually irks you enough to attempt to push her off of you to get some kind of leverage over her, but she clearly anticipated some kind of fight because she growls against your mouth in resistance, and uses both her hands to slam yours against the wall behind you with an iron grip.

What a brat.

The harder you struggle, the more she presses all of herself against you. Her grip on your forearms get a little tighter; and you find that this just makes all of your current problems worse. She rips her lips away from yours to give you some kind of smug, shit-eating grin. "You're really trying this time, aren't 'ya doll. I'll give 'ya that."

"Why won't you let me touch you?!" You spit out, but it comes out all breathily and not at all aggressive like you'd hoped.

"If you're good, maybe." She laughs, and you wish you could disappear on the spot at will. "But this is your turn."

"IF I'M-" You hiss out, Spinel switching her grip so she's got the both of your hands in one, making the other completely free to grope your breast. Her palm rubs over your nipple. "You are such a shithead!!"

"You knowwww, if you don't like it you could always tell me you wanna stop," Her eyelids lower enough to still see her irises glued to your face, and she leans in to whisper into your ear. "But we already know that you want this, Y/N."

You snap your mouth shut and she chuckles darkly, and you would like to die now, thanks. If there's a god out there, you hope he's merciful and smites you on the spot.

She immediately attacks your neck, and she doesn't give you any kind of say about it either. She's using so much teeth this time that you're worried you're going to look like a spotted leopard tomorrow, and oh god, you almost forgot.

"Leave any marks and I'll attempt to poof you myself, Spinel." You shudder as she sucks hard near the crook of your neck, hot tongue against your skin, and when she looks at you her eyes have some kind of suspicious glint to them.

"Wear a sweater." Is all she says before going right back to your neck, and the only thing you can really do is bite back a moan as she continues. You're going to kill her for this. You're going to find out how to embarrass her in front of her new friends, or SOMETHING. How the fuck are you going to cover up these marks before your class tomorrow?! The several shades of pink blush you picked up from the drug store a few days ago from your previous shenanigans barely managed to cover the lighter marks she left last time!

You feel her slide a hand down your torso to reach between your legs, and with the last of your strength you try and slam your legs shut just to make this difficult for her.

She chuckles into your neck, and her warm breath lights your nerves on fire. It's so steamy in here now, and some kind of jazz oldie is playing that you can kind of hear over the sound of running water. And then she drops your hands just to grip both of your thighs and spread them apart forcefully, and there's nothing you can really do about that. You know that you're heavily aroused, and you hope it isn't too obvious to her.

Holding you open, she presses her palm against you, tips of her fingers hesitating at your entrance. Like she's waiting for something.. your legs start to tremble, then she slides two fingers into you and you slam a hand over your mouth to stop yourself from moaning.

"No one's going to hear us, 'ya idiot." You hear her say, and you nearly laugh. She immediately curls her fingers upwards, and you're seeing stars at the edges of your vision.

"You think I care about being loud? I just don't want you to think you can drag anything out of me too easily," You say in between breaths, and she makes some kind of displeased grunt in reply.

"Asked for this.." Is what you hear from her before she adds a third finger; you take it quite easily, embarrassingly enough, and starts to really finger fuck you as she watches your face.

A strangled moan comes out of you, and you see the corner of her lip curl enough to show her teeth. You hate that she can do this to you. Your hands are free though, and you think you can fuck with her a little as payback. One of your hands shoot out to touch her gem, and she lowers her eyes to glare at you and the offending appendage.

"Whaddya' think you're 'doin, Y/N?" She asks, lowly. There's a darker pink that bleeds onto her cheeks quite rapidly here, and you swipe a thumb over her center facet in spite.

"Whatever I want." You reply. Her eye twitches.

"I don't think so." She hisses and slams her lips against yours - roughly pushing your hand away from her gem, like how dare you have the audacity to even think about touching her right now. She presses you against the wall with her own body, and you moan into her mouth.

Your thighs are shaking, and the hot steam mixed with the noises of her roughly pounding her slick fingers inside you makes it apparent that you're actually not going to last like this at all. She drags moan after moan from you relentlessly, unable to stop herself from biting down into the crook of your neck like she's trying to claim you for herself. As if you'd let anyone else touch you like this.

And then she lifts up her head enough to warmly whisper something about how much she loves being in the middle of your thighs like this into your ear, and you start to see stars as your orgasm violently wracks through your body.

She holds you, watching your face as you come down, leaving small kisses upon your lips.

"Was that okay?" She mumbles the question, looking at you to make sure you're alright. The water is starting to lose heat, which means both of you should finish this up soon.

"I'm going to make you regret ever taking me as a hostage." You answer with a grin, and her eyebrows shoot up into her hairline.

"Are 'ya sure about that?" She replies, withdrawing her fingers from you ever so slowly.

You think you're in the clear, and then she slides them back in, and you can't cut the gasp that comes out of your mouth. You slam a hand on her shoulder, glaring at your girlfriend.

"I'm sensitive, you jerk." You spit out at her, and she grins cheekily. She then actually pulls out her fingers for real, and you really, really want to make her pay for this. "Let's finish this up, the water is getting colder by the minute."

The both of you quickly finish your bathing routine, and you're almost annoyed that Spinel can just vanish water from her completely while you're still soaking wet, and trying to dry yourself with a towel.

You put on your sleepwear and drag your girlfriend to bed, where you pay her back tenfold. You honestly hope the walls aren’t thin.

You're tired, and sleep comes to you easy with thoughts of what tomorrow will bring.

#spinel x reader #spinel #steven universe #su #spinel steven universe #home #my fic #revised

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