#The Far Edge of Fate Spoilers | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bi-writes · 8 months ago

Text

the lies we tell

how far would you go for the person you love?

type: part one of the time rot collection pairing: simon "ghost" riley x tf141!fem!reader (x johnny "soap" mactavish) word count: 5k

cw: dark!simon, dark!reader, curvy!fem!reader, mature language and content, suggestive language and content, graphic depictions of murder + violence + extortion, mw3 spoilers, unprotected piv, oral (fem!receiving), cumplay (18+)

you don't believe in fate. you don't believe in god. you don't believe in anything at all, maybe, because luck disguises coincidences, and no good deed goes unpunished. everything you are and all that you have are products of a world that never stops spinning--and nothing about what has ended up in your way has ever been the selfish result of some higher power or some kind of entity that holds a grudge against you.

it's simple. in your world, if you don't think, you get your comrades hurt. if you hesitate for a second too long or take a step in the wrong direction, you compromise ops and let targets get away.

and if you're stupid, you die.

it only takes a second. one moment, your hands are steady, following careful instructions by a familiar lilt how to disable the ticking timer that counts dangerously low towards zero. the next, your vision blurs, and your head pounds, and you can feel the trickle of your own blood coming down the side of your face. you try and sit up, and when your eyes are able to focus just a little, you're staring down the barrel of a handgun.

you have never needed a knight in shining armor. the idea offends you, disgusts you, and it rips your heart out when you see johnny coming up behind him and pushing the gun out of your face just in time for the shot to hit the floor beside you.

and it takes only one more second for the next bullet to go through the side of his head.

you scream. it rattles the room, a horrifying sound, but you're too late. it happens so fast, it's ringing in your ears, but there's nothing you can do. you've never felt more incapable, more useless, and you crawl on your hands and knees to get to him. it hurts, your head pounds, but you will yourself to keep moving until you fall over his chest, gripping the edges of his vest, shaking him.

no. no, no, no, no.

"get up!" you cry. "get up, get up, get up!"

he's still warm when you bury your face into his neck. when you feel the scratch of his stubble, the softness of his neck, the dark skin that shows where you kissed him the night before and the scratches along his arms that are from your own blunt fingernails.

"get up!" you hiccup. "you can't--you--you're not..." you drag him into your arms, picking up his head, and your hands shake as you cradle him into your body. you press your lips to the hole in his head, and you will it to disappear, to go away, to close up and spit out the bullet that was meant for you. "johnny--johnny, you have to get up--" your vision goes hazy again. "you...y-you have to get up."

when it's quiet is when you notice the shadows that hover over you. you don't move--you clutch johnny close, your arms tight around him, and when a warm hand touches your shoulder, you cry out, shoving them off.

no. no. no.

"no! no--" they're firm now, kyle gripping one of your arms, your captain taking the other. they drag you off, getting you onto your feet, and you thrash. you kick your legs, scream, anything to get them off of you, so you can pick up johnny's head and show them his eyes, because he has to be alive, he isn't gone--"no! no! get off of me! johnny! johnny!"

reality only sinks when you see him. ghost shifts, until he stands between you and what had been, and when you meet his eyes, you stop moving, shaking your head.

"simon--" your voice breaks. "simon--tell them--" you gasp. "we need a medevac, we need--he needs--"

you fall into his chest, and he catches you. one big arm wraps around your waist, and he grunts, tossing his rifle over his shoulder and cradling the back of your head with his other hand.

"simon--" you sob. "simon, it's not--it's--" you shut your eyes when you feel his gloved hand tangle into your hair. "it's not true, he's still warm, please tell them--!"

he says your name, low and gentle, and you shake your head. you won't say it. you won't believe it. it isn't true, because if it's true, it's all your fault, and you won't accept that, you can't.

you only laughed with him hours ago. shared his bed. woke up tangled between his sheets, pressed skin to skin against his burly chest, whispering against his lips about all the hours you would spend being lazy and unproductive when you finally got home to the bed that was actually big enough to hold the both of you, not the cot in the barracks with no locks on the doors--

you jump when the door shuts behind you. time passes without notice when you are this alone. you look around the flat; it's cold, and it doesn't look lived in, not like before. he always liked to leave it neat and proper, because it felt nice to come home to a clean home, but this isn't home anymore.

you pick up your bag and leave. you weren't even able to make it a few steps inside. you don't have it in you to get your things, to pack your clothes or your shoes or anything that still is in there because it won't feel the same to wear them again if he isn't here to see you.

price's name graces your phone all too often. he calls mornings, he calls evenings, he calls from unknown phone numbers. he says he's worried about you, that you didn't show to an important briefing, that you are welcome to take your leave but you need to tell him that you're alright, but you don't answer. when the call comes, an official one, asking you to gear up because wheels are up in an hour, you don't show up, and there is nothing he can do except scratch your name off his list and declare you dishonorably discharged.

but the world still turns. it doesn't stop just because your own did. you find yourself in need of the things that people use to survive, superficial papers and coins that rattle in everyone's pockets that keep them satiated with roofs over their heads.

at first, you start small. a friend of a friend is crying, hiding her bruised face, and she confesses to you that everything would just be easier if her boyfriend was gone. you're not there to see her face when he never comes back from his gambling night.

it starts as something good. johns threatening their girls disappearing when they take a smoke break. following drunk girls home only to drag their stalkers into dark alleyways. until one day it's a suit sliding you an envelope thick with notes, and you don't even bat an eye when you slip it into your jacket.

this is all you are now. you don't have anything inside. you aren't happy, you aren't good, and despite covering your crimes in the veil of defending those who can't, you know that it is just an excuse to wet your hands in the blood of someone else so you can forget what his own feels like.

because you can't forget. everywhere you turn, you see him. in the blue of someone else's eyes. in the dark curls of someone else's hair. in the shadow of another man's beard, the sound of a scottish accent, the plaid of a kilt that looks like the one he had shown you once that he said would be yours when you married him, because ye will marry me, bonnie, ye will--he always said you would even though you protested that you won't be a military wife, you won't sit at home and cook his dinner and grow his fat babies. and maybe you wouldn't, but he was good at showing you that he would fuck you dumb like a good wife should be, and you never had a problem with that.

he lives in the dark weather. the bricks of the buildings you pass by, the scratch of them almost mimicking the callous of his big palms. when rain touches your lips, you think about the way he would kiss you breathless, the feel of his spit on your tongue and the way he seemed to bare your soul with nothing but his smile.

the silence, it chokes you. you liked arguing; it meant he was alive, it meant he cared. he was charming. outgoing. he exuded fun, and he never ran out of energy, and maybe that's why you hated your superior so much. because johnny's eyes wandered, and you hadn't been around as long, and sometimes you would catch him staring at the back of a big, broad lieutenant only for you to rear him back and stuff his face between your thighs to distract him.

ghost always kept you on your toes. you knew he was a problem as soon as you joined their team. johnny was not subtle; from the first moment you met his eyes, you knew you would end up naked and underneath him in a short while, but it wasn't until weeks later that you noticed how stiff your superior was with you. how short. how mean. how angry. you didn't realize you had stolen something from him, but it was hard to feel guilty because johnny never behaved as if he belonged--he sought you out, he chased after you, he fell to his knees and begged for your attention, a hungry, starved dog that pawed at your pants for just a lick of the sweetness that pooled between your legs.

but that was why. johnny was starved. he wanted to love, he wanted touch and reciprocation and for the person he loved to tell him they loved him back, and that wasn't ghost. ghost held up a wall, even to johnny, and it wasn't enough. you would give what he would not, and maybe that angered ghost to some degree, because you could do what he couldn't, you could give what he didn't possess, and maybe he was jealous of that. jealous of how easy it was for you, and how impossible it seemed for him.

but the world keeps spinning. because it doesn't care about what you can and can't do. it won't stop, and neither would you, and he couldn't prevent what happened to you. he couldn't save the heart he didn't have.

and he couldn't save johnny from the bullet he would take for you.

and you think you hate him for that. you hate yourself for it, but you hate ghost, too. johnny couldn't see what you could see. his attention span was too short, he never looked long enough, but you did, and you noticed, and you saw the way ghost behaved. the subtly, the quiet longing, the eyes that never left him and the way he closed his fists. the twitch of his arm as he fought reaching for him, the way the masked moved as he contemplated saying something to him.

it was pathetic. it was pitiful. but you loved johnny, and you weren't going to try and coddle a traumatized man into taking what you really wanted. he loved johnny, you think, but he didn't love him enough.

not enough to fight for him. and not enough to save his life.

you haven't been paid for this. no one told you to look for him. no one told you that he was your mark, no one told you that he was the next on your list, that he deserved to find the end of the line at the killing side of your chosen weapon.

but he does deserve it. because you hate him. because he loved him, and he hadn't done anything to stop what never should've happened.

when he flicks on the light in his kitchen, he doesn't even react when he sees you standing there.

he's wearing civilian clothes, but you know better than to underestimate him. a hoodie under his rain jacket with the hood pulled up over his head, dark jeans over heavy boots, fading eye-black around the dark of his eyes, the only part of him visible under the balaclava. he could never quite cover up how striking his eyes truly are, or the blonde of his lashes. and he could never hide how big of a man he really is underneath it all.

"knew ya'd come eventually," he says finally. you try not to show any emotion, keeping your face neutral as you stare at him. he takes a step further into the flat, and the click of your handgun sounds as you hold it up. he still doesn't react, making his way towards the fridge and pulling a bottle out. he uses the edge of the counter to pop the cap off, and he grunts as he takes a seat at his table, relaxing into it.

you pull the chamber back, loading a round into the gun, and ghost narrows his eyes. he is still calm, very unbothered for someone about to eat the bullet he should've swallowed all those months ago, and it angers you more, unnerves you.

why isn't he afraid of me?

"wot's the price?" he asks, tilting his head to the side. "how much t'rid y'of me?"

when you don't respond, he laughs, humorlessly. this angers you, too.

"oh, i see..." he sucks on his teeth. "doin' this all on y'r own, eh?"

your lip twitches, and his eyes flicker, as if he's happy to get some sort of reaction out of you.

"i hate you," you whisper finally, and all he does is shrug his shoulders. "don't deserve to be here. to lead that team. to still call yourself a fucking lieutenant when you don't have anyone's back except your own."

he stares, not moving, and you envy how still he can be.

"and i know you're not going to wherever he is," you laugh bitterly. "not you, not someone as fucked up as you. you'll never have him again."

but neither will i.

"tha' wot y'think?" ghost asks. "tha' i don't have y'r back?"

"he's dead, isn't he?"

he leans forward, pushing his mask up slightly, and you watch with a shaky hand as he takes a long sip of his beer. his adam's apple bobs as he swallows, and you follow the pale lines you see that litter his lower face and neck. drags left behind from dull blades, the pieces of his skin that have been carved out and haphazardly put back together.

he looks like what you imagine you would, if someone looked on the inside of you. if someone pulled back the softness you wear and peeked underneath--they'd see you just like this. carved up, mutilated, picked apart. the anger wanes, just a little. you hate it, because it feels so true, the reflection of yourself that you see in him.

"why didn't you save him?" your voice breaks. your hand is shaking violently, your eyes are blurry with tears, and your legs feel weak. you look at him accusingly, and he stares right back. you can see more of his face, just his lips, but it's enough that you can see the way he snarls slightly. "why weren't you there? why--"

"y' 'ave no fuckin' idea--"

"you didn't love him enough!" you snap. you use two hands now, trying to hold the gun steady. "you didn't love him enough! y-you gave up on him, you fucking--"

"y' 'ave no idea wot i felt," he says, and you quiet, because his voice is dark and deep and a warning for you because he won't be so calm for long. "'ave no idea wot he was t'me."

"he was mine," you whisper, and you taste the tears that are falling down your face.

"wasn't always yours," he growls, and your hand shakes too much for your own good, and when he stands, he's too quick. he knocks the gun out of your hand, and it skids across the floor, and you cry out when he has you up against the wall, one big forearm trapping you there as he presses it firmly against your throat. he towers over you, glaring down at you, and when you try and use your legs, he forces you flat against him as he puts one thigh between your legs and holds you easily.

he's too strong. too big. too much of everything you aren't, and all you can do is gasp for air and thrash as much as he lets you.

"listen 'ere," he mutters, pressing down harder against your throat, and your breath hitches as you stare up at him through your tears. "the fuck y'wanna fight about? want t'kill me? want t'hurt me? wot the fuck are y'gonna do t'me that someone else hasn't, huh?" he spits at you now, angry and unhinged. "been buried alive. gnawed at m'own fuckin' hands t'break free. split apart from the inside-out, so wot the fuck can y'do t'me tha' i'll be afraid of, eh? y'r just a sorry fuckin' git tha' can't fuckin' admit y'weren't lookin'--and he's dead, and tha's a fact, and the sooner y'wrap y'r head around tha', the sooner y'can stop right fuckin' feelin' sorry for y'rself. y'think i don't play it in m'head everyday? thinkin' about wot i could've done t'get t'him?"

you break, crack, the tears spilling free. ghost isn't capable of feeling what you feel. of loving the way you love, of holding onto something so tight that he can't let it go, it isn't in him. he's fucking dead on the inside, you know that much. he wears that skull because he wants everyone to know that death is his friend, not his enemy, and that when he finally succumbs to his mortality, he'll just fucking go home.

"thinkin' about wot i could've done t'get t'you?" he breathes, and you blink up at him, your lips parting, trembling, and you take in the deep breath that he allows, and you aren't angry anymore. you don't understand. it doesn't make sense. "he had ya--" ghost wraps a hand into your hair, tugging on it, bringing you closer. "he almost had ya..."

what?

your eyes flutter shut when he presses his forehead to yours. his grip is firm, he isn't letting you go.

oh.

"almost had ya," he echoes, in a deep whisper, and you nuzzle your face to his, subconsciously.

oh...

maybe you were just naïve. so egotistical, so selfish, that you misinterpreted everything that you saw. was it anger, or was it longing? was it jealousy, or was it lust? was it the shame of the way he felt, or the timidness of revealing the truth of it?

wherever johnny was, there was ghost. right behind him, in the dark, purposefully watching.

or was he just waiting?

you want to feel guilty. you want to feel angry, you want to fight for the gun that escaped you and press it to his chest and pull the trigger, but you don't have it in you. you spent so long hating him, you didn't realize it could've been someone else.

vying for the attention of someone unattainable, someone unavailable, untouchable. someone that can understand the way you feel unlike anyone else in the entire, unforgiving world that keeps fucking spinning--

"b-but--"

"was never jealous," he admits, and you swallow hard. you almost stop breathing when you feel the faint brush of his lips against yours. "y'were out of m'reach." he loosens his grip on your neck, but you don't move. "couldn't 'ave ya, couldn't--"

the kiss is messy. you lean forward just enough to swallow his words. your heart squeezes in your chest, it bursts, and you cradle the back of his head as you slide your tongue between his teeth and taste him hurriedly. you want to know him, you want to understand him, you want to crawl inside the warmth he emanates and pretend the world stopped moving right before it took away the thing you loved more than anything.

you hate him, don't you? you hate all that he is, you hate the man he isn't, you hate him because he loved what you loved, and he didn't do anything to save him, you hate him because he had what you had, and he wasn't selfish enough to not let him go.

you hate him because even though it is all your fault, he doesn't hate you, and you think that's what you hate most of all.

because i am not worthy of anything anymore.

you want him to hate you. you want him to kill you, you want him to blame you for everything you've done. you want him to remind you that you aren't worthy of any kind of affection, of love, because you were stupid, and so was johnny, but he won't do it--he won't. he slides his hands down your sides, he puts them around you, picks you up from under your thighs and carries you until you fall underneath him onto the cushions of his couch that you don't deserve to feel.

he feels too good. he bares his layers. he takes his jacket off, slips the hoodie over his head, and you stare speechless as he kicks his jeans low and strips the mask off of his face.

your hands shake as you cup his cheeks. he's so pretty, unfathomably so, and you think you're crying because you recognize him even though you've never seen his face before. there's something so familiar about the shape of his nose, the way his brow bone feels under your fingertips, and you cry because you loved johnny, but you might love ghost more.

fuck.

you don't know him, and you think you love him more, and it isn't because you love johnny less, it isn't, but while johnny loved unconditionally, ghost loves you because he isn't capable of not loving you. you love him more, and it hurts to love him more, because he sounds grateful that bullet took everything from him except for you.

when you look into his eyes, you wonder if he let it happen. if he saw johnny step in front, if he knew where the bullet would land, and let it happen so that it wouldn't happen to you.

fuck. fuck, fuck, fuck.

it's selfish. it's disgusting. it's cruel, he is so cruel, it's frightening to think about him hesitating just to keep you, but it's even more frightening that you are looking up at him, all this time later, and you're letting him have what he abandoned everything to take.

you're letting him slip the shirt over your head. the pants from your legs, steal the lace from between your thighs so he can settle himself there and bury his head in the warmth of all that he wants.

he's cruel about this, too. he eats like he has never eaten before, like he tastes what he has been searching for his whole life and will lose it if he doesn't consume it all. he barely breathes, arms hooked around your thighs as he yanks you close, tongue buried inside as he coats his mouth in everything that you are and swallows it just to take more. you arch your back, bow it tight as he devours. and devour he does, squeezing the thick of your thighs hard as he bobs his head and fucks you with the warm muscle of his mouth. it drags along your insides, slips between the puffy folds, swirls around your clit until he suckles on it viciously, until you are crying for a different reason and letting the terrifying thoughts spill out of your ears until there is nothing to think about but the man between your legs and the love you have for him more than another.

"simon--"

it spurs him on. his name, the one he doesn't use anymore. it clouds his own head, and he groans as he opens his mouth wide and tries to eat you whole, eat you wet, eat you entirely like he will die if he doesn't.

and it isn't enough. never enough. he snarls when you cum, using two fingers to slip inside of you and feel the clench of your walls, and then he slips them out and feeds those fingers to you. you choke on his hand slightly, the girth unfamiliar, and when he smiles, wickedly, you shiver, afraid.

his love is so visceral, he let johnny die. his love is so broken, so jagged-edged and terrible, that he let go of what was his to have it. he smiles because he knows what he wants is now his.

did he know? did he know what would happen to johnny all that time ago and let what we were manifest because he knew how it all would fucking end?

ghost is a sickness. ghost is poison. ghost is what lives under children's beds, he is the black hole that sucks in the glow of anything nearby, that swallows anything in its path because anything other than what he wants is in his fucking way.

was johnny in his way? he must've loved him, he must've. they were lovers, friends, comrades, they stood back to back and faced their makers with nothing but each other--he must've loved him, but now you are so afraid, because if he did love johnny, what do i call what he feels for me?

did he know that johnny's love would kill him? did he know, and he let him love me anyways, because he's so patiently twisted inside?

he grips your jaw tight, and your eyes sparkle, diamonds in the wasteland you must be drowning in, and he shakes his head. it's so dark, night blackening the room, but you can see his own eyes bright as day. there is nowhere else to look. this is the man you have resigned yourself to. this is the thing that feeds on what you have left, and you should run away, he has killed what you truly are, but you won't.

i can't. i'm not capable of it. i'm not strong enough to leave, he has me, he fucking has me--

and he does. he won't even have to tie you up, he knows you won't leave, you can tell that he knows. he kisses you, still holding onto your face, and you just sink more into the cushions as he uses his free hand to find your entrance and sink himself deep.

it takes one smooth grind of his hips to press himself against you. his hips meet yours, and you whine when he lets go of you, gripping you around the thighs and hoisting you underneath him so you're nestled right under him, knees up and pussy fluttering. he seals it, he's infected you, and you should tell him to go away, you should tell him to stop, but it feels so good, it feels so nice, he's so big, he's mine, mine, mine--

"all y'needed," he murmurs, staring down at you. "'s all y'needed, luv. somethin' to shut y'up."

your body betrays what you feel inside. it grips him tight; every time he drags his cock out, it fights to pull him back inside, and the grunt he lets out as he sinks deep again tells him he knows this, too. no matter what atrocities the two of you commit, this is where you will end up. staring each other in the eyes, knowing you are black inside, and fucking each other anyway because that is my reward, this is where i'm meant to be, this is where i'll end up in whatever fucking universe we end up in.

"y'feel me, swee'eart?" he asks, pressing his palm to your stomach. you rock with him as he grinds slow, hitting you deep and powerful every time, and you nod frantically, your lips parting as you rattle every time he hits his hips to yours. "feel me right 'ere...yeah..." he smooths his thumb over the stop his tip hits, and you whimper, sliding your own hand down and over his, keeping his touch there. he fucks so well, every move he makes draws the blood from your head and makes you feel stupidly wonderful, and he knows just when to angle his hips to touch the sensitive little clit that pulses in rhythm with his thrusts.

this is what you are. this is what you always were going to be, even if you fought it, and you want it to hurt that johnny was collateral damage, but it doesn't.

it doesn't.

your eyes meet his, and he has your face in a strong grip now, leaning down as he picks up the pace. he hits a gooey spot inside of you now, a wet squelch sounding out as you drip, as you wet his cock because he is every desire you didn't know you had, and he bares his teeth, smiles down at you, he has me, he fucking has me, he'll never let me go.

"all mine," he slurs, and you aren't coherent enough to read between the lines. you aren't lucid enough to understand what he means, that now that you don't belong to anyone, not even yourself, there is no logical place for you to be except for underneath him. for him to own you, from the light in your eyes to the very breaths that you share with him.

connected, one being, and if i do not obey, i don't know who he will take next from me.

but there isn't anyone left to take. not even yourself, because you think it has already been given.

you cry when he holds you by the throat and fucks you stupid. hips snapping, breathes short and heavy, the spill of your arousal and the need of the very oxygen to breathe. you claw at him, wanting more, your stomach clenching and a feeling catching in your chest because you are climbing a mountain so fucking tall, and please get me there--i'm so close--yes-yes-yes!

your eyes roll back into your head when he cums. he groans into your ear, fucking you through it, gripping your hips tight as he keeps his hips pressed to yours. you feel so full, a kind of euphoria that is beyond you, a hazy place of pleasure that you've never been to before. it clouds your vision and the thoughts you know you should have.

the thoughts that would make you run. the ones that would reach for the knife you see taped under the coffee table and use it to slit his pretty neck.

you blink up at ghost, trying to think, but he bends low to kiss you again. you whine as he settles down between your thighs, his weight heavy and solid above you, and you relax with both of your hands on his face.

he smiles, and it should scare you, but it doesn't. you want it to hurt, but it doesn't. you want him to kill you, but he won't, you want to kill him, but you can't. his eyes all but confess what he's really done. the secret he hides inside but reveals in what he holds in his very hands. the world keeps spinning. it doesn't care. and, you suppose, neither do you.

because all you do is smile back at him.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #ghost call of duty #ghost mwii #ghost x reader #cod #call of duty #simon riley smut #simon ghost riley smut #ghoap x reader

985 notes · View notes

generalsmemories · 1 year ago

Text

An Immortal's Delight

✧ jing yuan x gn!reader

✧ synopsis: i think jing yuan just needs someone to kiss his worries away to survive another day tbh, he deserves that.

✧ contents: established relationship, fluff, hurt/comfort, smooches and kisses in the bathtub (scandalous), he's just a tired baby please let him rest and get some cuddles and a pat on his fluffy head. spoilers for the main story in 1.2

✧ a/n: enough attempts on angst as the main genre i want my man happy again for like 3 posts before i attempt again, and i know ya'll want it too. it's cheesy, but HE NEEDS TO HAVE CHEESY MOMENTS PLEASE HE'S BEEN SUFFERING EVERYWHERE ELSE.

Jing Yuan has been submerging himself in the bath without answering your calls long enough for you to grow concernerd. You contemplate for a bit, there's still scrolls of unfinished work sitting by the dining table that you had brought from the Realm-Keeping Commission along with two plastic bags of Immortal's Delight that you bought on a whim while on your way home staring back at you.

Yanqing's not at home. The paperwork can also wait until he's out of the bath and in bed sleeping, and there's no pressing matters at hand for the both of us currently either- with those reasons in mind, you take another sip from your own immortal's delight to savor the taste while it's still cold before walking up to the bathroom door and opening it slowly.

You're immediatey hit with a wave of steam, barely able to make out Jing Yuan's figure amidst the mist. Your husband having an elbow propped up at the edge of the bathtub while resting his cheek on his closed fist. If he heard you come in he doesn't react, eyes closed while the water from the tap still runs, having long flowed over the edge.

Jing Yuan isn't behaving like his usual self lately - not after fate had toyed him like this to make him use two of his ones dearest friends whom he had had once released years back for the sake of Luofu. You can tell, you can see it in the wry smile he sports every day, you can see it in his eyes that flicker with the tiniest of emotions whenever he reports back to you for you to record and in his voice that wavers a tiny bit when he addresses his two old friends as names that are foreign to him.

He's the same general in everyone else's eyes, but in your eyes he's reverted back to his younger self who took on a role far too burdensome on his shoulders all those years ago. He can hide it beneath every meticulous plan and carefully thought out strategies, but you always see through him. You had back then, and you have now as well.

You strip off of your outer robes which leaves you in an undershirt whilst you slowly walk up to him. Making yourself comfortable by the edge of the bathtub, your fingers find the red ribbon that situates his long ponytail and pull it off.

"Darling," you hum, "If you're going to let yourself turn into a prune in here, at least make sure that the ribbon also comes off no?" your hand rests on his left cheek, a silent sign to make him look at you. And Jing Yuan is always obedient around you, opening his eyes to direct his gaze towards you. His other hand comes up to wrap loosely around your own hand, holding it still while he turns his head around to press his lips against your palm, "I would still be quite a handsome prune though, no?" he jokes with an empty chuckle - you're pretty sure his laughs have sounded empty since the stellaron incident first started.

"Debatable," you whisper, gently pulling your hand away to grip the edge of the bathtub, instead leaning down to press your lips against his cheek, "But you would most definitely be the most handsome prune in my eyes."

"That's a relief," he huffs playfully - although there's no playful tone present in his voice. It's numb and automatic, a trained response fitting of the general Jing Yuan of the Xianzhou Luofu. It could've fooled every other person, but not you. He can't fool you after all.

"I thought you had passed out in here, you were taking that long," you emphazise, lips moving from his cheek to kiss across his face, settling on pressing your lips a bit longer on the mole underneath his eyes.

"Mmm, sorry dear," he leans away from his fist, letting you cup his face between your hands while his right arm drops limply over the edge of the bathtub, "It was pretty comfortable in here that I lost track of time."

He never loses track of time.

"Jing Yuan," you call out gently, "Can you tell me what's wrong?"

He doesn't answer immediately, instead averting his eyes from your own as he grows quiet. He's probably contemplating an answer, if you were anyone else he could've easily breezed past the question with a mere acknowledgement that he's fine, but it's you. You're always able to figure him out as fast as his own foresight is able to foresee a necessary plan for a better tomorrow.

He still tries, "I'm fine," he ends up saying, "Just tired," he opens his mouth to add on more details, as if to prove to you he's really just tired, but no sound comes out.

"I know," you whisper, bringing your hand further up his face to brush his bangs away to bump your forehead gently against his, "I know you're tired, dear. But what's gotten you more tired than usual?"

Gently, he lifts a hand from the water up to your wrist. And you're already aware it's a silent request, to which you answer with a small smile and a nod. With a light tug, you get dragged down into the bathtub with your legs dangling over the edge. Jing Yuan had immediately buried his face into your neck, letting out a shuddering breath.

There's no people to care for in this small space, there's no general duties to attend to here and no setting aside his personal feelings or using old connections for his people. In this small space, there's only the feeling of your soft skin against his and the warm press of your lips on his head.

Just like back then after he had come back from defeating his master, after he had witnessed the deaths of his closer friends in battle and the punishment given to another. You're always there at the end of the day - waiting for him.

"Will you tell me what's wrong, dear?" you implore once again, arms wrapping around his shoulders.

"As much as I'm able to keep it hidden at the heat of the moment," he whispers into your neck, taking another shaky breath to which you pat his naked back for, whispering for him to breathe. "I do admit that I once again had a bit of a youthful hope to bring something back from the past that I knew was not plausible."

You merely press your lips to his temple, aware that he's not finished talking judging by the way he takes another deep breath that ends in a low chuckle - a chuckle that sounded a tiny bit more genuine than his previous one.

"... And I think I can still feel the aftermaths of the fight against Phantylia."

"... Well that's no good," you hum. You've been very much aware that Jing Yuan is still recovering from the last battle against Phantylia. His body still weak and food even harder to consume. The little he does consume end up getting thrown back up because: "It feels like my insides are having a battle of its own still," which makes it harder to get Bailu's prescribed medicine down his throat.

You run your fingers down his back a couple of times before leaning away to pull his head out of your neck - he tries to protest, wanting to stay nestled in your neck so he can live inside the personal bubble you've created away from reality. But you're too insistent, gently coaxing him with small pats to his head until Jing Yuan finds himself staring back into your eyes. "In what way can you feel the aftermath?"

He's staring at your lips, "There's a vile taste in my mouth."

Your lips are immediately slotting over his own after that. It's soft, but sweeter than usual. He can taste a hint of brown sugar on your tongue, and perhaps it's because he's not directly consuming it, but he finds it easier to want more. So he leans in for more, grabbing the back of your neck to push you further into him. More, he needs more.

"You're going to swallow me up whole at this rate," you say with a giggle, parting slightly away from his lips and giving them a brief peck when he leaned slightly further into you, "But how did that taste?" you question.

"It tastes like someone's had an Immortal's Delight before coming in here," he jests, "It's good, I like that," he confirms before settling his forehead back on your shoulder.

"That's good, maybe I should drink more of them then before kissing you silly. I'm sure whatever you're eating now paired with Bailu's medicine won't give your tastebuds the best of flavors."

"That would make eating and drinking them a lot easier for my part," he mumbles from your shoulder, "Would have something to look forward to, being that Lady Bailu bans me from drinking such sugary treats at the moment."

You chuckle at the hint of sadness present in his voice, once again wrapping your arms around his shoulders so his senses are filled with your scent. Only then does his shoulders sink in relief - And you know that Jing Yuan will be fine for another day again.

"I can't guarantee that tomorrow will be any better from today," you mumble, "Neither can I guarantee that you won't be faced with a past that you were forced to move on from too soon for the sake of the Luofu," you let go of him to climb out of the bathtub, ignoring your clothes sticking to your skin as you extend a hand towards the man before you who meekly grabs it - squeezing your hand hard upon contact.

"I can however, guarantee that I'll be there waiting at the end of the day every time," you grab one of the fresh towels by the shelves to throw over his head, ruffling his hair slightly, "And take care of you when you want to just be Jing Yuan, and not the Arbiter General of the Luofu," you declare with a smile, "And kiss the vile taste of medicine in your mouth with the flavors of immortal's delight."

Before you can turn around again to grab a new towel to pat your clothes dry, Jing yuan tugs at your wrists and pulls you towards him. A hand coming up to cup your cheek before he bends slightly down to kiss you hard and hungrily. Kissing you breathless like you're all he has left - from back then and now in the present.

He can still taste the sugary drink on your lips - He wants to keep tasting them, he has quite a sweet tooth after all.

"I like the taste of immortal's Delight," he says, pressing his forehead against yours while he gazes at you softly, "So I hope you bought some for me too."

"I did, you can afford one cheat day," you grin, bringing both hands to cup his cheeks before pinching them, "But knowing you, you would still claim it tastes better on my lips, no?"

i- i'm. can someone tell i really love this man. like i want to wrap him in a blanket and say everything's going to be okay, that he can rest now because he's done his job and way more. that he deserves rest as much as the next person- i can volunteer to do that. please.

#honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail imagines #honkai star rail x you #hsr x reader #hsr x you #star rail x reader #jing yuan x reader #x reader #reader insert

2K notes · View notes

sincerelyyuu · 9 months ago

Text

"in the end, it's still you." p3. • gojo satoru & geto suguru

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ synopsis: after you made your decision to leave your jujutsu sorcerer life behind, you find yourself longing for what once was and risking more than what you bargained for. ➼ pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader, geto suguru x fem!reader ➼ content/warnings: sfw, endless amounts of angst, sprinkles of fluff, heavy jujutsu kaisen 0 film spoilers, heartbreak, regret, unrequited love, death, blood, pet names, sorcerer!reader ➼ wc: 5.4K words ➼ a/n: this is the final part of this little angst series of mine. thank you so much to everyone for the amount of love you've given these three. as always, likes and reblogs are appreciated ♡ ➼ part one, part two, part three

Today was the day. Suguru had coined it as the Night Parade of a Hundred Demons where he intended on releasing thousands of curses across Japan, focusing the epicenters of the attack in Shinjuku and Kyoto.

To say that your life had drastically changed over the last few years would be an understatement. Finding refuge in a grand temple located far away from the eyes of Tokyo, Suguru built himself a cult following. He spent his days collecting money from his loyal followers while also exorcising curses from non-sorcerers who sought him out, deeming him as a god for his “cleansing” talents.

Within this time, your days were simpler. Instead of waking up to the dread of having to fight curse after curse, you spent your time focusing on the little things that brought you joy. You started a little garden that was lush with a variety of flowers and greenery. Thanks to the seclusion of your new home, it made stargazing look something straight out of a fantasy, the night sky always twinkling with millions of stars. With all the extra time, you had many opportunities to curl up with a good book without having to worry about another mission.

Since that fateful night in the village, Nanako and Mimiko became attached to your hip. You became the mother figure they’ve always dreamt of. You loved the girls like your own, spending the majority of your time nurturing them from toddlerhood into the beautiful teens they were now. You were living the simple life you envisioned back in your teen years.

You knew when you left your old life behind that life would be different. Change was inevitable. You just didn’t expect for it to manifest in the man you ran away with.

Suguru took care of you exceptionally well. He made sure you were well fed and gifted you with the prettiest clothes, occasionally leaving small tokens of appreciation for you for embarking on this journey with him. Whatever you heart desired, it was in your hands no sooner than you can think of it. More importantly, no matter how busy he was, he always found time to keep you company. You, as well as the twins, remained his main priority. His beautiful girls.

You watched Suguru slowly become consumed with the idea of jujutsu sorcerers being the superior race. On the outside, he put up an amiable persona in front of normal humans who came to him for guidance in order to collect their curses. On the inside, he loathed their very existence, finding their presence alone to be unbearable and swearing they filled the air surrounding him with a disgusting stench.

Monkeys, he would call them. You hated the term.

He had come to you in the kitchen one day with the biggest grin on his face. It was the happiest you’ve ever seen him in your entire time of knowing him. Pouring yourself a glass of water from the faucet, you leaned your back against the edge of the sink in interest.

“The time has finally come!” he proclaimed as he walked up to you, hands behind his head in a relaxed manner.

“Oh?” you raised an eyebrow at him in curiosity. “And what time may that be?”

“My sources tell me that there is an interesting first year student by the name of Okkotsu Yuta at Tokyo High. He is cursed by a special grade spirit by the name of Orimoto Rika,” Suguru goes on to explain.

You felt an unsettling feeling in your stomach, not liking where this conversation was going. You hummed in response and raised the glass to your lips which he took as his cue to go on.

“I plan on retrieving her. The power she holds is the exact thing we need to put an end to every non-sorcerer in existence,” he sighed happily at what he believed was the light at the end of the tunnel.

Frowning, you replied, “...And how exactly do you plan to do that, Sugu?”

“By killing anyone that gets in my way starting with Tokyo Jujutsu High.”

The glass of water immediately slipped from your hands, seconds away from shattering onto the floor if not for Suguru’s incredible reflexes. Placing the still full cup on the counter, he observed the immense shock displayed in your eyes at his declaration. You wished that he was just pulling your leg and that he wasn’t really considering taking on such a risky and incredibly dangerous task. But a man of his word, you knew better than anyone that when Suguru said anything, he truly meant it.

“Geto Suguru,” his name leaving your lips in a slow drawl, “What in the actual fuck are you talking about?”

Leaning against the counter next to you, he crossed his arms and closed his eyes in thought. “It’s simple really. I will unleash the thousands of curses that I’ve meticulously collected over this past decade into the city. Two cities, in fact. While they send their forces to try and save as many pathetic monkeys as they can, I’ll go after the Okkotsu boy. If he decides not to join our side, that’s fine. I’ll just kill him for Rika instead.”

The more you listened to him explain in detail his plan, the more you found yourself looking at a complete stranger. This couldn’t possibly be the kind Suguru that you’ve known throughout your teens and entire twenties.

Had you really known him at all?

The incredulous look of concern and flash of fear across your face must have been hard to take in because Suguru’s demeanor immediately took on a more serious stance.

“(y/n),” he started to say your name and reached for your hand. This time, it was his turn to be shocked when you immediately yanked your hand away from his as if his touch burned you.

“Don’t,” you demand, taking a step away from him as you felt your blood begin to boil. “What the hell, Suguru?”

The man sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose at your hostile reaction, “I had a feeling you’d react like this.”

You scoffed at his reply, “Did you honestly expect for me to just be peachy about this idea? You’re talking about murdering millions of people! This isn’t what I agreed to when I decided to go on the run with you.”

“I was very upfront with you about my goals. I don’t know why you’re acting like this is something new,” Suguru argued, not liking the tone of your voice. “You made the big girl decision to come with me. Don’t tell me you’re regretting it now?”

You clenched your jaw at his audacity. “You didn’t give me a choice! I’m not the one who decided to go on a murderous killing spree at seventeen on a mission we were both assigned to,” you retorted in exasperation.

“But I stayed with you because I care about you, Suguru. If I didn’t, why would I leave my entire life behind to be here with you now?” you asked, feeling the anger in your veins shift to deep hurt. “You forget that I sacrificed a lot, too. Excuse me if I don’t agree with every choice you make along the way, especially this one.”

Running his hand through his dark locks, Suguru exhaled deeply. He rarely fought with you and he hated every minute you were anything less than happy with him. He angled his body to face you once more and placed his strong hands on your shoulders. When you didn’t instantly pull away from him, he tugged you closer to him and wrapped his arms around your shoulders.

“I’m sorry. I didn't forget how much you’ve sacrificed to be with me and I’m eternally grateful every day I see your face. I know this situation hasn’t been completely fair for you and I only have myself to blame for that,” he apologized sincerely.

“That being said, I’ve made my final decision. I won’t ask you to fight on the front lines nor do I expect you to do anything you don’t want to. You can stay here without needing to get involved or lift a finger. The decision is yours.”

Back to the present, you couldn’t shake the premonition that something really bad was going to happen. Your anxiety in your heart refused to dissipate with the uncertainty of what's to come looming over you. You hated this. You hated how this is what it all came down to.

You made it clear to Suguru that you weren’t going to take any innocent lives. However, you refused to sit still and play the waiting game while everyone was out fighting for their lives. Naturally, you set your heart on protecting your girls.

“Nanako, Mimiko,” you said to your phone via video chat, “Are you girls doing okay?”

“Everything is good so far, (y/n)-sama,” Nanako replied back and adjusted her phone so that she and her sister fit into one frame. “Where are you? Geto-sama said you’d be here.”

You responded, “I’m here. Just standing out of sight but still keeping an eye on you.”

Standing atop of some miscellaneous office building, you observed the large curse that housed the twins safely inside its mouth. You focused on manipulating your cursed energy to lower it to extreme minute levels in order to hide your presence, blending it with the large amount of cursed energy permeating in the air. Doing so made it difficult to pinpoint your exact location.

“How come you aren’t here directly with us?” Mimiko questioned, feeling slightly anxious but relieved to see your face even if it was through a screen.

You paused, taking a few seconds to think before answering carefully, “It’s complicated.”

How do you exactly tell them that the reason you were hiding to begin with was because you were hiding from the man of the hour?

Gojo Satoru.

You would be lying if you said a part of you didn’t long to see him. You did everything in your power to cut all ties with the strongest sorcerer a decade ago, although it hurt more than anything. You didn’t know if you could ever face him again, especially not now considering the circumstances with Suguru’s plot.

Did he even want to see you?

A pair of sweet voices called out to you and snapped you out of your thoughts. Looking back at your phone, you saw the looks of anticipation on the twins’ faces.

“Sorry, what did you girls say?” you sheepishly asked.

Nanako pouted adorably, repeating their question, “We asked if we could go to that crepe shop on Takeshita Street with you. Geto-sama promised he’d take us last time but it was closed by the time we got there.”

Chuckling, you nodded to their request. “Of course. When this is all over, we’ll take a girls trip together.”

“Promise?” they said in unison, holding their pinkies up to the screen.

You held your own pinky up and lightly tapped it against your phone. “I promise.”

On the other end, you heard Nanako’s notification sound go off. “They said they’re stepping up the plan and telling us to engage,” she informed you.

Biting your lip in apprehension, you sighed. “Please be careful, you two. Do not hesitate to call me immediately if something happens. Do you understand? I'll catch up with you in a few.”

The pair nodded, holding up their pinkies for emphasis promising you of their safety. Just as you were about to hang up the call, their soft voices caught your ears.

“(y/n)-sama?”

“Yes, my loves?” you answered with concern in your eyes watching them fidget nervously.

“I love you.”

You felt your heart squeeze at the declaration, warmth spreading in your chest as you smiled fondly at the two. They looked at you shyly with pink cheeks looking slightly embarrassed after voicing their affection together. When did they grow up so fast from the little five year olds they once were when you first met them?

“I love you, too. Both of you. See you soon,” you reciprocated, blowing a kiss to the camera.

The twins mirrored the gesture before hanging up. Focusing your eyes back to the curse they were inside, its mouth opened to reveal your precious girls. You waved goodbye to them despite them not being able to see you. Just as you were about to trail them, that unsettling feeling increased tenfold in your stomach. Something was wrong.

Suguru.

You dialed his number on your phone, pressing it to your ear only for the call to go straight to voicemail. This only made your anxiety worse. He never missed a call from you. Wracking your brain on where he could be, his previous words echoed in your mind.

“I’ll go after the Okkotsu boy. If he decides not to join our side, that’s fine. I’ll just kill him for Rika instead.”

Cursing under your breath, your legs began moving on their own.

Run faster.

You repeated the two words in your head like a mantra as you weaved through alleyways and every shortcut you could remember. Your lungs burned with the intensity of it demanding oxygen, but you refused to slow down the pace of your sprint. You were determined to make it back to Tokyo Jujutsu High.

You had to make it to Suguru.

Scanning the black veil that you knew Suguru had casted over the school, you managed to locate a hole that was made by something, or rather someone, else. Slipping through the opening, you finally stepped foot onto the grounds that you once called your home. You hurriedly followed the trails of blood and wreckage of what looked to be the after effects of a lethal fight.

You nearly collapsed as you felt the ground quake beneath your feet, the force of it catching you off guard. The air felt electrified with the sheer amount of cursed energy surrounding you. It terrified you. Despite your fear, you steeled yourself and ran towards where you felt the cursed energy was strongest.

Careening around another corner, you were relieved to see the backside of the man you were searching for. However, your relief was short-lived when you looked just beyond his figure down the path to see a young teenage boy.

There was no mistaking him as Okkotsu Yuta with his special grade curse Rika suspended beside him protectively and looking every bit as deadly as you heard. He was exchanging words with her that you couldn’t hear from where you stood. You saw the way Yuta intimately held her monstrous frame close to his face. The interaction was so full of tenderness and devotion, the kind that would risk it all in the name of love.

But that’s when you realized what was happening. He was sacrificing himself to Rika to release the limit on her cursed energy.

Hearing Rika passionately declare her love for Yuta, you looked in horror as she began gathering all of her raw cursed energy in full force. Flashes of purple and pink coalesced into one massive deadly black orb, a symbol of Rika’s eternal love for him.

And it was aimed directly at Suguru.

“SUGURU!”

You didn’t even hear yourself scream for him, your voice coming out in terror-stricken screech. It was like your body went into overdrive. In your moment of panic, you didn’t have time to think or feel, only running towards him with your heart beating loudly in your ears.

For Suguru, it all happened so quickly.

The moment he heard your voice, he whipped his head to you with eyes widened in alarm. You weren’t supposed to be here. He needed to figure out a way to get you as far away as possible from Rika.

Time almost stopped for the next few seconds.

There was a flash and a strong hand that shoved Suguru’s body back from where he was positioned. A waft of a familiar perfume. The feeling of soft tresses tickling his cheek. A blinding blue glow. He realized too late that it was you moving at an supersonic speed to stand in front of him, safeguarding him as you channeled all of your cursed energy to brace and harden your body for impact.

Then, Rika charged.

Destruction. Suguru’s curses were no match to the power of Rika’s concentrated cursed energy beam. Her attack left devastation in its wake, buildings blown down to their bare infrastructures, dust and debris clouding the pinkened sky, and a deep crater of the battlefield permanently indented into the ground.

For a moment, all you felt was searing pain enveloping your body. You didn’t even register the way Suguru seized you by the waist, jerking you away as he made a narrow escape with you just a second away from death’s door. Your vision faded to black as you closed your eyes.

When you next opened your eyes, the first thing you saw was the back of Suguru’s head. He was carrying you on his back, your arms around his neck and your body swaying in small jerky motions as he limped down the pathway with growing difficulty.

Good. He had made it, you thought to yourself in ease.

‘Made it’ was an understatement. The man was officially missing his entire right arm, the same arm he used to safely pull you away from Rika. Long black hair haphazardly let down, black yukata torn in half to reveal his bare toned torso, right eye swollen shut. He was lucky to have gotten away with just this.

He was only this lucky because of you. You had taken Rika’s attack head on. Even with you using your cursed energy as a shield, it wasn’t enough to stop the negative repercussions. Your injuries were severe. The strength of Rika’s blow left a gaping hole in the center of your chest a hair’s away from your heart, feeling sharp pains with every shallow breath you took. You could feel yourself bleeding out onto Suguru’s back, soaking his robe with crimson. Unable to feel any sensations in your legs, you suspected you were paralyzed from the waist down.

“Suguru,” your raspy voice croaked out.

“You finally opened those eyes, pretty girl. You had me worried for a moment there,” Suguru chuckled quietly.

The two of you fell into a calm silence, only the sounds of Suguru’s footsteps and your ragged breathing to be heard. You wanted to ask him so many questions. Where did Yuta and Rika go? What happens now? No matter how hard you tried to focus on moving your mouth you simply couldn’t, not having the strength to do so. Suguru was the first to break the silence.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” he said tiredly. His haggard face looked absolutely spent with his voice coming out no louder than a murmur. Only loud enough just for you to hear the regret and guilt in his speech.

You chuckled weakly, “Can you really say you were surprised?”

Suguru sighed in defeat, “I suppose not. Although I would have preferred if you had stayed with our girls. Now look at you.”

“That’s not very ‘Thank you for saving my life’ of you, Sugu,” you huffed, gently pinching his cheek in retaliation causing him to laugh lightly.

You felt your heart swell seeing Suguru smile and banter with you so freely. It reminded you of your earlier days back in high school when it was just you, him, and Satoru.

Satoru.

As you leaned your head on Suguru’s good shoulder, your mind drifted to the snowy haired man. It always did. You often wondered if he had changed much since you last saw him. Was he still that confident man that would give his all for the world? The same man that would have burned the world for you? What would your life be like if you had decided to go back to him that day in Shinjuku? So many questions that you would never have answers for. You knew that when you left Satoru that day, you had left your heart with him too.

If only you had the chance to tell him you loved him in person.

Feeling something rise in your chest, you were only able to squeeze Suguru’s shoulder in warning before you leaned to the side to vomit blood, the bodily fluid coming out in a viscous consistency. By the time you were done, you felt extremely weak. Your head felt fuzzy and the severe pain in your chest was beginning to subside the more you bled out.

“I’m dying, Suguru.”

Suguru’s grip on you faltered for a quick second before hoisting you upright on his back once more. He already knew it. He knew you were dying by the faraway look in your eyes and the way you could barely keep them open. You were losing too much blood too quickly. He had exhausted his cursed energy supply on Rika, only having the physical energy to carry you through pure willpower.

“Do you regret running away with me now?” he asks solemnly, slowing his pace down to not rock you too much.

You shook your head, “I don’t. I promised you that I would be there for you until the end.”

“Thank you for keeping your promise,” he expressed genuinely.

When you didn’t say anything else, he turned his head slightly to see you with your eyes closed. He momentarily panicked before he was consoled by the rise and fall of your back that indicated you were still here.

“(y/n)?” he calls, looking straight ahead and walking with no real destination in mind. You hummed in response to let him know you were listening.

“I love you.”

Despite living the last ten years of his life with you, this was the first time he had verbally expressed those three words to you, opting to show his affections for you through actions. But in your dying moments, he needed you to hear just how much he loved you, even if he knew you would never say them back the same way he meant it.

“I know. I always knew,” You smiled guiltily. “I do love you, Suguru. You’re always going to be my best friend. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I couldn’t reciprocate your feelings no matter how hard I tried.”

Suguru nudged his head against yours in a comforting manner. He whispered, “It’s okay. I still love you regardless.”

Feeling exhaustion settle in your bones, you could barely fight the growing heaviness of your eye lids and a sense of calm lulling your senses. Resting your chin on Suguru’s shoulder, he felt your faint breath fan against his neck.

“Sugu,” the nickname sounding so painfully loving on your lips, “I’m sleepy.”

Suguru couldn’t bring himself to watch you die, staring straight ahead so you wouldn’t see the tears pooling in his eyes.

“Sleep, baby. I got you.”

With that, your eyes closed as you took your last breath, your arms around his neck slipping to fall at his sides.

Trudging down the narrow alleyway, Suguru shifted your frame to his front in order to rest your head against his hard chest. Your body was still warm as Suguru held you tighter against him, albeit a bit awkwardly considering the effects of the battle left him with only one arm. You looked so peaceful. If anyone didn’t know any better, they would have assumed you were just in a deep sleep. Only, you were forever in a dream that you would never wake up from.

Suguru felt like a failure. Despite his elaborate plan, he was unsuccessful in securing the special grade curse Rika from Okkotsu Yuta. Experiencing her power first hand, she was truly extraordinary. If he had gotten her, there would be no need to sneak around swallowing curses. He would have had the power to change the world like he wanted.

You wouldn’t have had to die for him.

If only he had a little more time. Hearing footsteps approaching him, Suguru smiled at the familiar presence. With great effort, Suguru carefully lowered you and himself against the wall and held you close.

“You’re late, Satoru,” he announced, his words devoid of any real malice. “To think you’d be the one here at my end. Is my family safe?

“Every last one of them managed to escape,” the special grade sorcerer replied in monotone.

Except you. Satoru took in your lifeless form that was brutally beaten and bloodied by what he assumed was the aftermath of Rika. Your hair was longer than when he last saw you in Shinjuku ten years ago. Your delicate hands that used to hold onto his so dearly were now battered. Bruises adorned your face, crimson from your wounds beginning to dry against your skin. Even after all these years of not seeing you, even in this state, you were still beautiful to him.

“Unlike you, I’m a kind man. You sent those two assuming I’d defeat them, didn’t you? To set Okkotsu off?” Suguru questioned the male, referring to the panda and cursed speech user.

Satoru answered, “I trusted that a man as principled as you wouldn’t kill off young sorcerers without a reason.”

Suguru tiredly smiled at his words. “Trust, huh? I didn’t think I still had any of that left.”

Gaze hardening, Satoru coldly responded, “I also trusted you to keep her safe.”

He knew he was being hypocritical. He spent years trying to seek you out and to bring you home. Once he did, he even considered quitting the sorcerer life to give you the normal life you wanted. Yet you didn’t want to be found and made it incredibly difficult to track you (and naturally Suguru.) The fact you survived this far to begin with was with Suguru’s help, which is more than what he had done. At least Suguru was able to give you some form of happiness. Although he never gave up looking for you, Satoru knew he should have done more to protect you.

And now he has to live with the fact that he couldn’t bring you back home anymore.

“It was always you, you know that?”

Tearing his eyes away from your lifeless form, Satoru wordlessly looked at his best friend who had a ghost of a smile on his lips.

“All of these years away, there wasn’t a day that she didn’t think about you. No matter how hard I tried to get her to reciprocate my love, to open her heart to me, her heart was always set on you,” Suguru admitted bittersweetly.

Satoru could only stand there stunned at the revelation. If Suguru was telling the truth, had you always loved him the way he loved you? Flashbacks of you played back in his mind like an old movie.

The way you would tenderly treat his wounds after he went a little too hard after a mission…

“I swear to god, Toru, you better not come back looking like this again,” you sighed, lightly dabbing the soaked cotton ball of antibiotic on the small gash on his forehead.

“You mean looking this good~?” he smirks, flexing his bicep proudly. Only for his bottom lip to jut out into a pout at the way you playfully roll your eyes at him, not exactly denying his words but also not wanting to feed that big ego of his.

Turning around to grab a clean bandage for his wound, he misses the way a light pink hue blooms across your cheeks.

…making him a bento box of his favorite foods after scolding him for skipping meals…

“Oh?” Satoru chirps, “What do we have here?”

He watched you unravel the prettily wrapped package to reveal the lunch you had prepared for him. Based on the smell alone, he knew you had made his favorite. “A little birdie told me you skipped breakfast this morning,” you sighed.

“Did this birdie happen to be a six foot three tall man with a man bun? What a snitch,” he sighed dramatically.

Tsking, you pushed the bento closer to him. “Don’t be mean. Eat before the food gets cold or else the last hour and a half of me cooking would go to waste.”

Didn’t you just come back from a mission this morning? The thought crossed his mind as he considered how tired you must be but still mustered the energy to cook for him. The delusional side of him imagined if this was what it would be like if you were his pretty little wife.

Grinning, he takes a bite of the food and savors the delicious flavor that hits his taste buds. “Thank you, sweets.”

…and leaving little cute messages in his notebooks to read during class.

Hearing his sensei drone on about something related to cursed energy, Satoru leaned back in his chair with his head tilted back in a silent groan. He swore this boring class had a higher chance of killing him than dealing with a special grade curse. Feeling someone kick his shoe from under his desk, Satoru looked over next to him to see Suguru giving him a disapproving look, gesturing with a nod to the sensei to pay attention. Satoru merely stuck his tongue out at him causing his best friend to roll his eyes. To be fair, he was equally as bored but someone had to pay attention to take notes, right?

Leaning on his hand, he aimlessly flicked through the pages of his notebook, the pages mostly bare since he rarely took notes. Satoru’s interest quirked when his eyes landed on an adorable doodle of a kitty cat wearing black round glasses much like the ones he wore. Beside it was a little speech bubble written in your handwriting that said, “You got this, Toru! I’ll always be here to support you ^o^.”

Chuckling, Satoru turned his head to find you sitting a few desks away from him. Unlike him, you were completely engrossed in the lesson and taking notes like the good student you were. You had your hair tucked behind your ear as you gnawed on your lower lip in concentration. All Satoru could think was… ‘pretty.’

Feeling eyes on the back of your head, you scanned your surroundings before making direct eye contact with Satoru. Despite being caught red handed staring at you, Satoru shot you a flirty wink, snickering at the way you gaped at him in shock. He made a gesture of him pretending to be on the verge of falling asleep, feeling his heart palpitate at the way you couldn’t help but giggle at him.

The next class, he found another doodle in his notebook of that same little Gojo kitty along with the words, “All eyes up front instead of me, Mr. Gojo >.<.”

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. How could he have been so blind?

Or, maybe, he did see all of the signs. Perhaps he chose to actively ignore them because he knew getting involved with you would only put you in danger. He was okay with admiring you from a distance if it meant keeping you safe.

But if he knew things would end up this way, he wished he spent all this time telling you he loved you instead.

“Do you have any last words?” Satoru offered, feeling his heart aching at what was next to come.

Looking to the sky in resignation, a peaceful look graced Suguru’s face. “I never held any hatred for those in Jujutsu High. I just couldn’t wear a heartfelt smile in this world.”

“But she made it worthwhile,” he continued, his voice lowering in remorse as he studied your tranquil face, ingraining every little detail that he loved about you in his mind. “I don’t regret taking her with me. My only regret is not being able to give her the life she deserved.”

Suguru cradled your face in his hand and leaned down to kiss your forehead tenderly, his lips lingering on your skin for the last time. He didn’t react when he heard heavy footsteps draw near.

Satoru brought himself closer to the two people he cherished most in his life. Crouching down so that he was eye level, he reached out to brush the hair away from your lids, wishing so desperately for you to open them so that he could look into those eyes that he first fell in love with. Just as Suguru did, he pressed his lips to your temple, feeling a tear slip from his eye.

Goodbye, my sweet girl. To the only girl I will ever love.

🏷️: @urcutetozier @sad-darksoul @alisoncdariel @paprikaquinn @jjk174 divider credit: @/saradika-graphics

462 notes · View notes

seungminsbaldspot · 4 months ago

Text

Six Years, Five months and Two days | FIVE X READER

pairing: five hargreaves x reader

Word Count: 3805

Genre: angst

General Notes: Lila x Five did happen here folks :/, sexual themes, crude language, this does not correlate with whatever happens during seasons 4 other than Lila and Five jumping into a different timeline together for seven years, Reader is referred to as female and wife

Trigger Warnings: Infidelity and Betrayal: References to an affair and its emotional fallout, Emotional Turmoil: Repeated cycles of using others for support followed by pain, Unwanted Pregnancy: Discussion of a potential pregnancy with uncertain paternity, Conflict and Blame: Arguments and blame related to the affair and its effects,Intense Conversations: Emotional discussions filled with guilt, regret, and frustration, Relationship Breakdown: Decision to take a break from a relationship due to ongoing issues, and Self-Destructive Patterns: Seeking comfort in a way that leads to more distress.

Author’s note: I think if I could give this fic a song, I think it would be 'don't speak - no doubt’

Taglist:(comment if you wanna be added) @fate-posts

Spoiler: All you get is, there will be a part 4

Click here for part four !

Click here for the previous part two!

It's been a few weeks of this cycle: you using Five whenever the loneliness and anger become too much to bear, then pushing him away, crying in the aftermath, and repeating the cycle. Each encounter is a mix of bitterness and need, a desperate attempt to fill the void left by his betrayal while simultaneously punishing him for it.

Every time, you find solace in his presence, yet the relief is fleeting. The passion you once shared has become a battleground, where your emotions clash and your pain is laid bare. Afterward, as you watch him leave, you are left with a profound sense of emptiness, the tears you shed a stark reminder of the unresolved hurt that still lingers.

Even though this cycle is far from ideal for either of you, it has provided a certain measure of relief. Diego and Lila seem to be finding their way back to happiness, and as for you and Five—well, you’re not divorced, but it's hard to say if what you share can still be called a marriage.

It’s more of a fuck-buddy system now, with you being the only one reaching out. You start to wonder if Five ever gets tired of this arrangement. A flicker of sympathy for him crosses your mind, but it quickly fades when you remember the betrayal. He cheated on you—with his brother’s wife.

A knock on your bedroom door reels your out of your thoughts.

You open the bedroom door to find Lila standing there, her expression a mix of concern and resolve. She’s dressed casually, but there’s a seriousness in her posture that catches your attention.

“Hey,” she begins, her voice tentative but steady. “I was wondering if we could talk.” You nod, stepping aside to let her in. She walks into the room, glancing around as if taking in the remnants of your own turmoil. You close the door behind her, feeling a mixture of curiosity and apprehension.

Lila takes a seat on the edge of your bed, her eyes meeting yours with a searching look. “I know things have been... complicated between us,” she starts, her voice gentle. “And I know that everything with Diego and Five has been tough on you. But I think it’s time we had an honest conversation.”

You sit down across from her, your mind racing with the possible reasons for her visit. Her sincerity and the weight of her words prompt you to brace yourself for what’s to come.

“First off, I want to say I’m sorry,” Lila begins, her voice trembling slightly. “I’m sorry for allowing what happened to happen.”You throw your hand up, shaking your head in frustration. “It takes two to tango, Lila. It wasn’t just you. It wasn’t just him.”

She nods, her eyes reflecting a mix of guilt and regret. “I know, but still…” She trails off, lost in thought for a moment. After a deep breath, she looks at you with a conflicted expression. “I’m not sure if telling you this is going to be a good idea.”

Your eyebrows furrow, curiosity and concern mingling in your gaze. “What do you mean? If there’s something you need to say, just say it.”

Lila hesitates, her eyes darting away, and then finally meets your gaze again. “I think I’m pregnant.”

The words hang heavy in the air between you, each syllable carrying the weight of a thousand unspoken fears and uncertainties. You stare at her, your mind racing as you try to process what she’s just said. The room feels suddenly smaller, the tension could be cut with a knife .

I—” You start, but no words come out. You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “Are you sure?” Lila nods, her expression a mix of fear and resignation. “I’ve taken a few tests, and they’ve all been positive. I haven’t told Diego yet. I wasn’t sure how or when to bring it up.”

You run your hand through your hair, sitting in silence and shock. The room feels like it’s closing in around you. “I’m telling you this because I don’t know how far along I am. And there may be a slight chance… that… Five could maybe be the father.”

The weight of her words lands heavily on you, the implications sprawling out in every direction. Your mind races through the possibilities, each one more tangled and complicated than the last.

“Five?” you repeat, trying to grasp the full extent of what she’s saying. “You think… there’s a chance this could be Five’s baby?” Lila’s eyes are filled with a mix of regret and uncertainty. “I don’t know for sure, but I dunno, with the timing of everything, It could be his.”

You sit in stunned silence, struggling to process the revelation. “This is... a lot. I mean, Five and I, we’ve been—”

“Using each other,” Lila finishes for you, her voice barely a whisper. You sigh, your shoulders slumping under the weight of the revelation. “This—this is a lot, Lila. I don’t even know what to say,” you admit, feeling utterly defeated.

She nods, her eyes reflecting her own fear and regret. “I know... I’m sorry. I just wanted to be honest. I’m terrified of what this means for Diego and me, and for you and Five.”

You shake your head, trying to wrap your mind around the enormity of what Lila just shared. “I’m not sure why you’re telling me this, Lila.” Your voice is steadier than you feel, masking the chaos that’s erupting inside of you.

Lila takes a deep breath, her hands twisting in her lap. “Because you deserved to know the truth. I thought... maybe if we’re honest with each other, we can figure out what to do next.” Her voice wavers, but there's a glimmer of determination in her eyes.

You let out a bitter laugh, the sound escaping before you can stop it. “And what exactly is there to figure out, Lila? We wait. We wait for this child to grow enough to get a paternity test, and then we deal with whatever the hell happens afterwards.”

Lila flinches at the harshness of your words, her expression a mix of guilt and resolve. “I know it’s not that simple,” she says quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. “But what else can we do? I just wanted to be honest with you, to try and make things right somehow. I don’t want any more secrets between us.”

You shake your head, feeling a wave of exhaustion wash over you. “You think being honest makes up for any of this? You think it undoes the fact that you two fucked?” Your words come out sharper than you intended, the anger being unable to be contained.

Lila's face crumples, her eyes welling up with tears as she looks down, unable to meet your gaze. “No,” she admits, her voice trembling. “I know it doesn’t make up for it. I know it won’t change what happened. But I can’t keep pretending like it didn’t happen, either. I’m trying to face it, to deal with it... even if it means facing you like this.”

You let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through your hair as you try to keep your emotions in check. “You want to face it? Fine. But I can’t pretend this makes us friends or whatever. You broke something—something that can’t just be fixed with a sorry and some honesty.”

Lila nods, a tear slipping down her cheek. “I know. I’m not asking for forgiveness... I’m not even sure I deserve it. I just wanted to be truthful, to at least try and do the right thing for once.”

You look at her, seeing the raw emotion in her eyes, the genuine remorse etched across her face. For a moment, your anger softens, replaced by a heavy, painful understanding. She’s just trying to figure everything out too, struggling to navigate the chaos and consequences of her actions, just like you. But it doesn’t erase the fact that she played a big part in all of this, that her choices have led to this mess that now binds all of you together.

Still, there’s a part of you that wants to hold onto the anger, to use it as a shield against the hurt and betrayal. Yet, seeing her like this, vulnerable and regretful, you can’t help but feel a flicker of empathy. Maybe she doesn’t deserve forgiveness, but neither of you deserve this situation either.

You exhale slowly, trying to push away the conflicting emotions that swirl inside you. “Look, Lila,” you say, your voice more steady now, “I get that you’re trying to do the right thing. And I get that you’re scared. Hell, I am too. But I can’t just pretend like everything’s okay because you decided to come clean.”

Lila nods again, swallowing hard. “I know,” she whispers. “I don’t expect things to be okay. I just… I need you to know the truth. I thought it was the least I could do.”

You let out another sigh, feeling the weight of her words settle over you like a heavy blanket. “Yeah…” you murmur, trailing off as the enormity of the situation sinks in. Lila takes a deep breath, her gaze shifting nervously before she speaks again. “Do you think you could... tell Five for me?”

Your eyes widen in disbelief. “Why in the hell would I do that?” you snap, unable to hide your frustration.

Lila bites her lip, her eyes filled with a mix of desperation and vulnerability. “Because I’m scared,” she admits softly. “I don’t know how he’s going to react, and I don’t think I can handle another confrontation right now.”

You stare at her in disbelief, anger simmering just beneath the surface. “You’re scared?” you repeat, your voice rising slightly. “Lila, I’m barely holding it together myself. You think I want to be the one to tell him that there’s a chance he might be the father? That’s your issue to deal with.”

She flinches at your words, her shoulders slumping in defeat. “I get it, I do,” she says quietly, her voice trembling. “But I thought... maybe he’d take it better coming from you.”

You shake your head, frustration boiling over. “That’s because I’m his wife, Lila. Or at least, I was before all this happened,” you snap. “But I’m not your messenger, and I’m certainly not going to be the one to clean up your fuck-ups.”

Lila flinches again, your words hitting her like a physical blow. Her eyes brim with fresh tears, but she blinks them back, trying to hold herself together. “I know,” she whispers, her voice barely audible. “I know this is my mess. I just… I thought maybe… since you know him better…”

You cut her off with a sharp shake of your head, your frustration reaching its peak. “Don’t you dare put this shit on me,” you snap, your voice cold and unyielding. “I didn’t cause this mess, and I’m not going to be the one to clean it up for you. You made your choices, Lila. Now you have to deal with them.”

Lila’s face crumples, her composure breaking under the weight of your words. “I’m sorry,” she says again, her voice cracking. “I’m so sorry. I know I’ve hurt you. I know I’ve hurt Diego, and now this… I just don’t know how to fix it.”

You feel a mix of anger and pity as you look at her, sitting there so lost and broken. Part of you wants to scream at her, to make her feel the full weight of the pain she’s caused. But another part of you, a quieter, more compassionate part, recognizes her remorse and the fear in her eyes. She’s struggling, just like you are, caught in a situation that has spiraled out of control.

“Lila,” you say more calmly, though your voice still holds a steely edge, “I’m not the one who can make this right. You need to talk to Diego. You need to talk to Five. You need to deal with this. I can’t do it for you. I won’t.” She nods, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “You’re right,” she says quietly. “I’ll talk to them. I’ll… I’ll figure it out. I just… I’m sorry.”

There’s a long pause, the silence between you heavy and loaded with unspoken emotions. Finally, you sigh, feeling some of the tension leave your body. “Just… be honest with them,” you say softly. “That’s all you can do now.” Lila nods, her expression a mix of determination and fear. “Thank you,” she says, her voice barely more than a whisper. “For listening. For… for everything.”

Without another word, she turns and leaves the room, the door closing softly behind her. You stand there for a moment, staring at the closed door, feeling a whirlwind of emotions—anger, frustration, sadness, and a tiny, flickering ember of hope. Maybe, somehow, things could start to heal. Maybe, with time, you could all find a way forward. But for now, all you can do is take it one step at a time.

A little while later, another knock breaks the silence, pulling you from the depths of your thoughts. You’ve been sitting alone in the quiet room, the weight of everything pressing down on you. You feel drained, the emotional toll of the last conversation still fresh, and the last thing you want is another confrontation.

With a weary sigh, you stand and cross the room to open the door. On the other side, Five stands there, his expression tight with worry. His eyes quickly scan you, taking in your disheveled appearance and the exhaustion etched across your face.

"Hey," he says, his voice unsteady but low. He looks you up and down again, as if searching for some clue to your state of mind. You sigh, “What hell do you want?” He sighs, running his hand through his hair, “Lila told me.”

You stand there, feeling the weight of his words. “She told you?” you echo, trying to keep your voice steady. Five nods, his face a mixture of concern and frustration. “Can I come in?” he asks quietly.

You sigh, stepping aside to let him in. As he crosses the threshold, you can’t help but feel a lingering, complicated affection for him, despite everything that’s happened.

He takes a seat on the edge of the bed, and you sit down beside him, the space between you feeling both intimate and charged with unresolved tension. Five runs a hand through his hair, his eyes meeting yours with a pained expression. “I have no fucking idea what to do,” he admits, his voice heavy with frustration.

You stifle a laugh, the sound coming out more like a bitter chuckle. “Welcome to the fucking club,” you reply, your tone laced with a mix of sarcasm and resignation. The absurdity of the situation is almost too much to bear, and yet, there’s a part of you that appreciates his honesty and vulnerability.

Five’s expression softens slightly, a glimmer of understanding in his eyes. “So what now?” he asks, his voice quieter. You chuckle again, “Who’s ‘we,’ Five? Last time I checked, it only takes two to make a baby,” you reply, your tone reflecting the harsh reality of the situation. The words hang between you.

Five looks down, clearly grappling with the weight of your words. “I know,” he says quietly, his voice heavy. “I just... What if it is mine?”

You shrug, the gesture feeling as heavy as the conversation. “Then you’d be the father,” you reply coldly. Your tone is blunt, a reflection of the emotional exhaustion you’re feeling—tired of crying, tired of being upset.

He groans, “No fucking shit. What the fuck am I supposed to do? What are we going to do?” He gestures between the two of you, his frustration clear.

You take a deep breath, trying to keep your own emotions in check. “Look, Five,” you begin, your voice firm but weary, “The only thing you, Lila, and Diego can do is wait. Wait for the baby to be old enough to take a paternity test.

He sighs but nods, “Sorry for getting angry at you.” You shrug. unsure of what to say. At this point, words seem inadequate. The situation is so far beyond simple apologies and explanations. You just nod, acknowledging his apology without feeling the need to respond.

The silence that follows is heavy, charged with the weight of your shared pain. Five’s eyes linger on your face, his concern cutting through the tension. “Are you okay?” he asks softly, his voice betraying a genuine worry despite the strained circumstances.

You almost laugh, the irony and frustration bubbling to the surface. “Yeah, I’ve been so fucking good,” you say, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “Since the day I learned my husband cheated on me with his brother’s wife, and now that said wife might be carrying said husband’s baby.” You let out a humorless chuckle, shaking your head. “Everything’s just perfect.”

Five's face tightens with guilt and sorrow as he processes your words. “I’m really sorry,” he says quietly, his voice filled with regret. “I never wanted any of this to happen. I know that’s not enough, but I’m trying— Fuck, I’m trying so fucking hard to make you forgive me.” He runs a hand through his hair, frustration evident in his movements.

You open your mouth to respond, but he cuts you off, his voice rough and strained. “I’m trying, alright? I’m here, doing whatever fucked-up shit you need me to do. I thought maybe I could help in some way, even if it’s just by being here for you. But it feels like nothing I do is right. I don’t know how to fix this or if I even can. I’m just fucking lost.”

He pauses, his eyes searching yours for any sign of redemption or understanding. The frustration and self-loathing in his voice are palpable. You can see the weight of his guilt and regret hanging heavy on him, his attempts to fix things feeling futile and exhausting.

You look away from his intense gaze, the depth of his pain hitting you hard. “I just really fucking love you, alright?” he says, his voice cracking with raw emotion. He reaches out, gently cupping your cheek and turning your face towards him. The touch is tender, almost desperate, as if he's trying to hold on to the last remnants of what you once shared. His eyes, filled with a mix of hope and anguish, search yours for some sign that his words have made a difference.

You feel the warmth of his hand against your skin, the contact both comforting and excruciatingly painful. The depth of his plea and the sincerity in his touch make your heart ache, caught between the love you still feel and the hurt that's been inflicted. His gaze is unwavering, his desperation to mend what’s broken evident in the way he holds your face, as if afraid that if he lets go, he’ll lose you completely.

You sigh, your eyes closing briefly as you gather your thoughts. Slowly, you grasp his wrist and pull it away, creating a necessary distance between you. “Five,” you begin, your voice weary but resolute, “I can’t keep doing this. This is too fucking painful.”

He looks at you, confusion and hurt mixing in his eyes. “What are you saying?” he asks, his voice trembling slightly.

You take a deep breath, trying to find the right words amidst the storm of emotions. “I think we need to take a break," you say, your voice quiet but firm. "This situation... it's too complicated, too messy. We both need time to figure things out, especially with everything that's happening with Lila." You pause, meeting Five's gaze, "I can't keep letting myself be hurt by you."

His expression shifts, a mix of shock and sadness settling in. “A break?” he repeats, his voice barely audible. You nod, your resolve firm despite the emotional weight of the moment. “Yes, a break.” You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself.

He looks at you, confusion and hurt mingling in his eyes. “We’ve never done anything like this before…” he states, his voice trailing off as he searches your face for some hint of a different solution.

You nod, unable to meet his gaze. It hurts, it hurts really fucking bad. You love this man—or loved him? You aren’t too sure anymore. You’ve been through so much together, and the thought of putting distance between you feels like a stab to the heart.

You finally look up, your voice breaking with raw emotion. “I think it’s— it’s for the best.”

You can see the pain in Five's eyes, the way his shoulders slump at your words. He takes a shaky breath, his voice cracking as he struggles to hold back tears. “If that’s what you need...” he begins, but his words trail off, unable to complete the thought. The weight of your decision hangs heavily in the air between you.

You look away, unable to bear the sight of him in such distress—the man you love - broken by your own choices. It’s a painful reminder of the betrayal that brought you to this point, and your heart aches even as you try to stay firm.

Five sighs deeply, gathering himself as he rises from the bed. He walks slowly toward the door, each step heavy with resignation. “I guess I’ll keep you updated on anything that happens with Lila and the baby,” he says, his voice a whisper, almost like he’s trying to convince himself as much as you.

You nod, the gesture feeling hollow as you wave him off. “Yeah, okay,” you reply, your tone subdued. As he exits, the door clicks shut behind him, leaving you alone in the quiet room.

#the umbrella academy season 4 #tua five #tua season 4 #tua s4 #tua #five hargreaves x reader #five hargreeves #five x reader #number five #hargreeves siblings #brisket five #sbs posting #tua fanfic #tua fandom #five x lila #five x y/n #five x you #five hargreaves x you

248 notes · View notes

stsgooo · 11 months ago

Note

moonlit goddess.... maybe jinshi is wondering why his dear maid continues to pull away from him... and maybe gao shun lets it slip that "they shouldn't have been close that day anyway".... and jinshi pesters him until he folds n explains.... IDK I JUST WANT A HAPPY ENDING FOR THOSE TWO :((((( (not forced ofc!! i jus love ur writing!)

Bridge the Gap.

✩࿐ summary: life and death really makes a girl wonder.

warning(s): idiots in love, chapters 61-65 manga spoilers, master/servant like relationship, description of near drowning, suggestive content, ambiguous ending. wc; 9.3k

pairing(s): jinshi/fem!reader.

a/n: tysm for reading my fics means the world to hear ppl actually enjoy them, anon!!! ;') i wasn't really going to make a 2nd part of moonlight goddess as i thought it was okay to leave off there, but i love jinshi sooo i'll take any excuse to write him. this was initially going to be a part 2 of clumsiness, but i figured my plans worked better with what you were envisioning! im not entirely sure how to feel about this, but i hope this lives up to the standards! i apologize for any mistakes, this was written mostly in the early mornings when i had time!

part i. m.list

"Are you sure I'm not hurting you?"

"Y/N, please, stop asking me that."

"Oh, yes. My apologies, Jinshi-sama. Sorry."

This were, admittedly, not going well. Both of you soaked, hair dripping, and standing in the cave behind a rapid waterfall, and a dull ache in your chest as you recovered. Partly your fault, partly the fault of some crazed marksman that was hiding in the forest, trying to slaughter Jinshi and, by proxy, you.

To understand how you two ended up in this situation, we would have to back up a bit.

"Oh? Y/N, I didn't know you'd be attending this as well?"

"It was a last minute switch with Suiren and I."

"You... enjoy these hunts?"

"I've done everything I could to avoid them in the years past."

Your lack of excitement was apparent and clear. It appeared to bring no ease of mind to Maomao who dragged her rather disgusted eyes from you towards Gaoshun. The older man just kept his attention on the moving scenery outside, a distant glaze over his eyes.

Maomao obviously wasn't optimistic. Just like you. You were almost proud that she had caught on so easily.

The sweltering heat outside seemed to seep into the carriage, cooking you alive in your rather formal wear. Something that you were spotted in far and few, having been years that you truly cleaned yourself prim and proper. You had been on the edge of declining even going when Jinshi, with a grin and a certain glitter in his eyes, had too happily informed you that it was a direct invitation from Shishou.

Your fate had been sealed.

Maomao peeked at you from the corner of her eye, head tilted, "Do you mind me asking why you avoided these events?"

You don't even spare her a glance, "I fear if I spoke my honest opinion, I'd stain Jinshi-sama's reputable name with my foul mouth." You reply flatly in return.

"Please don't." Gaoshun said softly from his seat, looking particularly tired.

You decided to ignore the slump of Maomao's shoulders as if disappointed by the swift interruption and decline on Gaoshun's part. Turning your eyes towards the shifting world outside.

It'd been exactly five months since Jinshi had danced under the moon and you came to the conclusion that any impure thoughts you held for your master would be safely tucked away in the back of your mind (and heart). Forever your secret. Only to be heard in your dreams and upon your death, when you repent for any ill thoughts to the Great Man above.

Everything had returned to its normal routine. You would get up in the morning, prepare breakfast alongside Suiren, eat, then proceed with any chores the woman gave you for the rest of the day, then repeat. Equally, your relationship (or lack thereof) with Jinshi had remained the same. Conversations filled with pleasantries. Simple things that had always lingered between the two of you since you were children. Pleasant and simple. As the world shall ever be.

It got a bit ruffled with Jinshi had cornered you and practically ordered that you come to the hunt instead of Suiren.

In the middle of scrubbing away at the floors, he had found you. Stood above you with that grin, “Y/N, you’re one of my most loyal servants, hm?” He’d begun with an inflection in his tone that made you horribly hesitant.

You had faltered in your scrubbing to stare up at him with confusion, “Uh…well, I suppose, Jinshi-sam’s.”

“Why don’t you join me for the Hunt this up coming week?”

Your had heart dropped. And, by the look Gaoshun had dawned, his had too. The Hunt, in your humble opinion, was a glorified weekend for the men in high positions to rub one off while killing animals. It wasn’t something you found interesting in or much grace. That’s why you had declined Suiren’s question on whether or not you’d like to take her place only three days prior. You had no interest in watching anyone, even Jinshi, size each other up while a defenseless animal bled.

“Jinshi-sama, I believe Suiren—“

Ever the gentleman, he had cut you off, “No worries, Suiren agreed to take over matters while you’re gone! She’s the sweetest, right?” He had appeared all to eager and all too himself for you to ignore.

So, with a heavy heart, you’d sighed, accepting defeat and his invitation.

Now, you would find your torture for a multiple day retreat with a bunch of men with their c—

The carriage came to an abrupt halt, bringing an unruly end to your thoughts as you all carefully exited and were greeted by the sunshine. The humid air heavy with the condensation of the area and already making a sweat appear on your brow. But, ever the lady, you pleasantly tuck your hands into your sleeves and follow behind Gaoshun and Basen.

You were a little surprised as Maomao stuck closely to your side; but not all too surprised to find her attention on your surroundings, vague surprise in her eyes. The area was as equally as beautiful as it was a burden to you.

The buildings weren't anything for you to revel at. Spending an entire lifetime within palaces and in buildings as equally or above standard to those, it just wasn't anything special. The nature surrounding the area, however, was something to stare in awe at. Lucious trees, beautiful grass, and beautiful array of plants and flowers. It almost made you regret all the time you had spent away from this place.

But it wasn't like you had the chance to truly return since the last time you were here. Nothing could bring back that little girl.

You deterred your thoughts away as Gaoshun slid the door open. Immediately, you were hit with a wave of heat that you made you tense up. It was apparent that you wouldn't find your much needed cool down you were desperate to find since you were confined in the carriage days prior.

You were the last to enter and when you did, you faltered at the sight before you.

Jinshi was sprawled across the couch, wisps of his dark hair framed his sweat glistened face, eyes closed in contempt. A small dent appeared between his eyebrows and a frown adorned his face. However, your attention was caught on a drop of sweat that made its way from his hairline, down his cheek, his jaw, his long slender neck, and past his— his collar.

His modesty was of no worry, apparently, as he laid with his robes parted open to reveal his chest. Itself was glistening with sweat. Delicate skin on showcase for all to see. It brought a soft blush to your cheeks, as you blatantly ogled him. Pressing your lips together to contain whatever thoughts you had about him from burst from your seams.

"Y/N," Jinshi's voice hit your ears, tender and smooth. You're suddenly hyperaware that he's staring at you with raised brows, lids peeked open to stare at you.

You straighten your back and offer a bow, "Jinshi-sama. Do you require anything?" You had to get it together. It was inappropriate to behave in such a scandalous way. "Request for ice? Tea?"

Jinshi shook his head, sitting up, "No, rather I'd like for you to rest after such a long journey."

You falter, your arms wavering from their position in front of your face, "Uh.... Wouldn't the room be more tolerable with some ice?" You spare a glance around the room and grimace. The windows are shut tight, only bits of sun peeking through the cracks. Basen looks rather miserable, but trying to appear his usual stern self. While Gaoshun and Maomao seem rather okay with showcasing their small discontent with the heat. A nice cube would help at least cool down a bit.

You also couldn't stand another second seeing Jinshi like that. As if he were some type of nymph testing your faith.

"Really, it's fine—" Jinshi attempted, but you were already turning on your heel.

"I will return with ice." You didn't miss the way Jinshi's face fell and his eyes cut to Gaoshun who shook his head in return.

Your fast paced adventure led you to the main hall, where people were moving in and out. Various officers and servants filled the area, finding their rooms or helping their masters and fellow officers to their own rooms. Everyone appeared to be feeling the heat as they wiped their brows. Much like you, they appeared to be attempting to defeat the heat.

You found your way towards an attendant who helped you get something situated for Kousen. Something that brought you both distaste and irritation. Something to be addressed at a later time.

Joy filled you as you turned around, ice would soon be in the room and you could crowd around it like it was a new lover.

As you were about to make your way back to the room, you ran into someone.

You were about to apologize when they whirled around and you let out an audibly sigh that conveyed your unwavering exhaustion for them.

"Hey, watch where— Oh, hey, " Lihaku blinked, kind face twisted up in vague recognition. “You’re that lady-in-waiting. What are you doing out here?”

“I’m on loan from Jinshi-sama,” you answered rather flatly, not missing the small frown accompanying the man’s face.

You were vaguely familiar with Lihaku. What with Maomao getting involved in the problems within the inner and rear palace, you were bound to make new acquaintances when she was dragging you around. Lihaku was the first one you had ran into. On orders to accompany the girl from Suiren, you had gotten to see her investigative skills firsthand. You were impressed, surely, when she had made the discovery about the potatoes. But the impression was overshadowed by Lihaku, who had spent the entire time chatting your ear off.

He was kind, handsome, and smart when it called for it. But you could tell that, like most officers, he had an airheaded vibe to him. One that deterred you from making things too complicated with him.

Friendly enough, and one of the few people that didn't seem to disinterest Maomao, you accepted his very vague and shadowed feature in your life.

"Well, that's nice of him." He said, clearly disinterested in where this conversation was going. "I'm glad to see a friendly face, though."

You offered a small smile, "As am I. Not many kind faces around here often."

"You can say that again." You hear a loud inhuman snort and a tug on your gown, taking a large step back, you look down. A large dog with drool leaking out from the sides of its mouth stared back at you. "Oh, hey, boy, no!"

"O-Oh my." You uttered, slightly breathless as you looked at the large beast.

Lihaku glanced at you, offering a withering smile, "Eh, sorry, he gets excited around new people— not a great trait in a dog like this, you would think, but he's a real gem. Just has his moments. Hey, now—"

Lihaku pulled out something metal and brought it to his lips, then blew. It emitted little to no sound, at least, any you could truly hear, making your perk up when the dog tilted his head and sat respectfully before the officer. He blew again and the dog laid. Again, and the dog stood on all fours.

You smiled softly, watching in wonder as it obeyed whatever silent orders it was getting from Lihaku.

"He's very smart." You observed as the dog sat down again.

"Right?" Lihaku beamed, "I can get him to come running from kilometers away if need be."

"Useful when you're in a bind."

"For sure!" Lihaku's demeanor reminded you of a proud father as he puffed his chest and looked distastefully towards the cages lined up outside. "He's real smart, yet they still want to use those birds in the end."

You didn't want to point out the various problems that could come with using a dog; as there were probably another list of various pros to actually use the dog. The hawks had been used for years and you doubt that some dogs would be taking their place any time soon. It'd probably be a long time before these arrogant men came to their senses and found better means. Despite dogs being loyal and determined to their cause, the hawk would always be chosen.

Or, the better alternative, they didn't do this hunt anymore.

But you knew that was a longshot.

It wasn't long after that you bid Lihaku a farewell and good luck on his duties, making your way back to the room. You exchanged pleasant smiles and greetings with familiar faces, but nothing that kept you from relaxing much longer.

When you returned to the room, everyone had found their own areas and activities to occupy themselves. Gaoshun and Basen were playing Go near the windows, Maomao was reclining on the floor where a sliver or air was flowing through (from where, you weren't completely sure). Jinshi was back to sitting on the couch, a book in his hands. Something that was quickly disregarded as you gently closed the door behind you.

"The ice should be up soon." You informed the room with a respectful bow.

Jinshi didn't look at all interested, "What took you so long?" It sounded like contempt. Irritation if you had to really dig. Something that made you falter.

You look up and see the pout on his lips— childish, as always. "Oh, I'm sorry, Jinshi-sama. I happened to run into a friend and got caught up in conversation." You apologized softly. The last thing you wanted to do was bring him more annoyance and disturbance.

He straightened considerably, "A friend?"

You didn't like the way it was spoken. A touch of disbelief was enough for you to eye him with your own distaste. Even if you and Lihaku were nothing more than strangers with vague familiarity with one another.

"Yes, a friend." You confirmed with thin lips. Despite your inner voice telling you to reign in your attitude, you upturn your nose and decide to join Maomao— whose eyes were shooting between the both of you with trepidation and vague sympathy. "He was being kind."

Jinshi huffed, "I didn't know you had any secret friends."

"Not a secret. Just don't find any time to speak about it with you, Jinshi-sama."

That made the man falter, a darkened shadow over his face. "I suppose." He frowned heavily now, squinting at you with something unreadable. "Who is this friend of yours?"

You, finding no reason to lie, continued on, "Officer Lihaku."

In an instant, three heads snapped to you with varying degrees of emotions. Maomao looked shocked, but welcomed the information with a shrug. Gaoshun looked pale and overwrought, for whatever reason you weren't entirely sure, but you had an itching feeling it had to do with Jinshi.

The same Jinshi that was now face down on the couch, letting out a miserable sound. Speaking into the fabric of it all, unintelligiable. But you swore you heard something along the lines of— "that second rate, again?!" As he continued to rant and cry.

With that, you decided it best to not involve yourself with whatever Jinshi was battling. You wouldn't win anyway.

You'd always hated Kousen-sama.

He almost always seemed to loom in the shadows. An masked man who held no personality or words of his own. Pleasantries offered out of necessity and not because that was simply the right thing to do. He was mysterious. He hardly appeared, but he was always there. A reminder for what things would return to one odd day. A symbol for exactly where your loyalties and master lied.

Kousen-sama was to always appear before others with his mask on. To avoid them seeing the ghastly sight of scars and blemishes that adorned his skin because of his sickness (whatever that may be) and spare him the indecency of stares. He was unmoving. Stone amongst he lively environment that ate away at their lunches and softly conversed with one another.

Prince. The respectable Kousen-sama. The great son of the empire. The brave prince against all odds.

Oh, how much you hate Kousen-sama.

But you still had woken up early to help him pin his hair back. To slip his robes on. To delicately place the mask on, fingering the bangs out through the slits to allow some type of familiarity. You were his confidant. His reliable and kind servant.

As always, you and Basen stood behind Kousen-sama with your backs straight and eyes ahead. A pleasant servant on loan and stern guard, you both were familiar faces against the unrecognizable figure in front of you. It reminded the people exactly who was before them. Exactly who had decided to grace their presence.

Still, it brought you discomfort.

You still eyed Gaoshun in the corner of you eye. The older man sat at the other end of the table. Maomao standing behind him with a distant look in her eyes, obviously not paying attention to the things happening around her. Not entirely surprising, but you felt the overwhelming urge to scold her for her lack in etiquette.

Oh, you're starting to think like Suiren, aren't you?

Suddenly, Basen is tensing up beside you and Kousen-sama is turning his head away from a scowling Shishou. Your eyes snap between the two with a scowl of your own. Whatever that man had said—

Kousen-sama's hand clenches. So tightly that his knuckles turn white and he shakes. You know something isn't right. You had missed something. Something so obvious and you were too concerned about Gaoshun.

The man stands from his chair, the legs loudly clattering against the tiled and stone floor. You watch uneasily as Kousen-sama raises, takes a moment to collect himself, then practically speeds away from the room. You don't waste a moment to bring your sleeve covered hands to your mouth and make your own exit.

As you pass a concerned Maomao and Gaoshun, you hear a barely uttered whisper from the girl— heat. Food.

You try to hide your confusion and worry as you follow behind your master.

It doesn't take you long to find him.

Down the path, up against a tree, the masked figure was hunched and obviously breathing heavily. You draw closer, outstretching a hand to gently press it against the large expanse of his back.

"Kousen-sama, are you quite alright?" You ask softly, hunching slightly to capture a glimpse of his eyes from that slit in the fabric.

When you do, you're almost breathless. His violet eyes are alight with something distant and scornful. Eyebrows furrowed as he meets your own gaze.

"Y/N...?" He sounded vaguely surprised under it all, breathless himself. As if he couldn't quite believe that you were here in front of him.

You nod once, reaching out and grabbing ahold of one of the ties keeping the mask all together. "I'm going to remove this. No one is around."

His hand is suddenly wrapped around your wrist. Not tight or unrelenting, but enough to make you freeze. Warm and clammy skin against your own to make you feel scorched. You don't need to see his entire face to know that his jaw was clenched now.

"I can't," he said in all his self-assuredness, "Someone might still come."

What a pain. You thought to yourself as you draw in a heavy breath.

You don't waste a second to slip under his arm, wrapping it around your shoulders and allowing him to lean most of his weight against you. "No worries, sir, I'll just find us some place where no one else is around."

You gently guide Kousen-sama from the line of trees and deep within it. Finding an oddly familiar path created within your mind to follow that takes you towards an overflowing waterfall. A loud crash of water hitting the rocks and body of water below that brought you a distant sense of comfort. The refreshing smell of the water hits your nostrils and you take a deep breath.

With Kousen-sama against you, you felt the sweltering heat hit you tenfold. But the mist from the waterfall brushed against your skin like a gently caress from an old lover.

This is it.

You stumble over to one of the few trees next to the waterfall and gently guide Kousen-sama to sit up against it. The man took a heavy breath and you finally felt a little at ease. Reaching forward, you moved to take the cloth off once again and then—

A loud thud and chunks of dirt hit your cheek.

You frowned, looking to the ground only a could feet away and saw a small crater. A sharp smell filled your senses and you stiffened. It was an unkind and almost putrid scent. The smoke from the small crater was the main cause.

"Eh—?"

You were suddenly cut off as Kousen-sama wrapped his arms around you, jerking you upwards and away from the tree. You would've basked in the way his body was pressed against your back or the way his fingers seemed to mold into your abdomen— you would've if it weren't for the loud crack in the air then the pieces of bark that flew through the air around you.

The tree that he had been pressed up against only moments ago was now split open with a piece of metal imbedded into the wood. It looked eerily similar to the same that had been in the ground moments ago.

"Is that a feifa?!" His voice pierced through your thoughts, oddly frantic and uneasy as he moved quickly from the tree and towards the river.

You glanced up at him and found him already staring down at you. Eyes narrowed and, if it weren't for the mask, his entire face would be scrunched up in that familiar distaste and panic. Yet he seemed eerily calm as he dragged you through the trees and into the water.

"Sorry, but this is gonna get a bit dramatic." His voice was soft against your head, warm breath caressing your hair as he wraps a protective arm around your head.

Your eyebrows raise, "Dramatic— WHAT?" You should've known his tone and choice of his words were a warning for what was to come, but you were still caught off guard.

He gave no indication that he was going to jump off the cliff.

"Jinshi, you goddamn idiot!"

You mustn't get ideas above your station.

The water was oddly clear. Even with the mix of the overflowing waterfall, under it all was peaceful and calm. Fishes and water like insects lived in harmony.

Cool and calm. Always.

You are there to serve your master.

The little boy's head burst from the water with a big grin, short hair flat against his head and dripping. The sun reflecting off his violet eyes and almost blinded the little girl curled up on the side shore. Her face set into a scowl, clothes drenched, and a looming unimpressed older man behind her.

"It's so nice out, why don't you come in!" Beckoned the boy from the water.

The little girl shot him a nasty look, "You know why, you jerk!"

The boy's grin faltered, tilting his head at his friend, "Eh? Why are you being mean?" His voice wavered on the ends, still just floating in the middle of the basin.

"I'm not mean! You're mean! You're the biggest meanie!" The little girl stood up to throw an accusatory finger at the boy, her sleeve heavy and uncomfortable as she moved.

The boy's face reddened, eyebrows scrunched together, "I'm not mean! You're mean!" He repeated.

"No, you are! You're the biggest meanie in the whole wide world!"

"No, you are!"

"You are! You pushed me into the water!"

"You are! You should swim!"

"I hope you drown, meanie!"

The boy's expression fell completely. A heartbroken glint in his eyes flooding them. His lips trembled. But, before he could do something like cry, he was already swimming deeper

Nothing less, nothing more.

"Now, now," a large hand rested on the little girl's shoulder and gently tugged her back, turning her around to face the man. He seemed to be trying to appear as tender as he could to try calm down the girl's high nerves. "No need to get angry."

"But, Gaoshun—" The little girl whined.

Gaoshun shook his head, patting her shoulder, "No, we don't argue. Try to forgive and forget, yeah?" He reminded the lessons that he'd attempted multiple times to teach the two children. "No reason to walk around with resentment for others, right?"

The little girl scoffed her shoe against the ground, a pout on her lips, "Do I have to, Gaoshun?" She knew what this would call for. Exactly how this would end for her.

The man heaved a sigh, nodding, "Yes, you do. Now, go reconcile. I'll wait here."

The girl faltered as the man raised to his full height, cupping his hands behind his back. She dragged her feet through the soft soil and found her way towards the boy once more. He was grasping onto the edge of the bank, sniffling and snorting. His shoulders shook and his face was stuffed into his arms.

The little girl frowned. "Um... Are you okay?"

The boy stiffened, not turning around as he answered, "No."

"I'm sorry, I said something real mean." The little girl uttered, stepping closer as she clutched her wet clothes. "I just... You pushed me into the water, I can't..."

"I thought you were my friend!" The little boy whirled around on her, face red and eyes filled with big tears. He looked enraged but incredibly disheartened. The girl blinks in return as the boy glares. "You say such mean things to me. Friends aren't supposed to be mean!"

The girl clenched her jaw, "You were mean to me first!" She accused.

The boy sniffled, wiping under his nose with his forearm. "You're my friend." He repeated as if that cleared up any anger.

Nothing more, nothing less.

The little girl slowly sat beside him, her feet dipping under the water. "It is nice." She whispered.

The little boy dragged his eyes upwards, looking hurt but hopeful. "Right?" he asked, equally as quiet.

"You're my friend too, Jinshi." The little girl nudge him with her leg.

Jinshi's eyes twinkled, wide and all too bright, "Really?"

"Really." The little girl confirmed with a toothless grin. "My friend forever and ever!"

Jinshi positively beamed, the water sloshing as he jumped happily. "Forever and ever, and ever!"

"And ever!"

"It's no longer... appropriate for you and Jinshi-sama to be friends."

"I don't... I don't understand. He's my friend."

"His mother no longer finds it appropriate for you to concern yourself with Jinshi."

"But, Gaoshun—"

"No, Y/N. It's over. Come along. Suiren has a present for you."

"He's.... He's my friend...."

"I'm so sorry."

You are to give your life to your master.

The woman paused, back pin straight, as she entered her master's office, finding him curled up in the corner, muttering nonsensically to himself. The guard of said master was watching on with a pitiful expression of his own, only breaking his eyes away when the woman entered the room. His expression only seemed to deepen.

She didn't need to ask. There was an unspoken understanding as to what their master's breakdown was regarding. The Apothecary. The one that had gotten the attention of everyone in the palace as of late. The one that had been causing her great grief as of late— and was about to create more.

"Jinshi-sama?" The woman called softly, stepping closer.

Jinshi's lifeless eyes continued to stare at the floor below him. A gentle rocking seeming to soothe himself from the rages of his mind. "I don't need anything, Y/N. Thank you, kindly." He uttered just as lifelessly.

The devoted servant's chest clenched. Her face flushed as she reached out a wavering hand. To place it delicately against his hunched back. To offer her best comforting words that she could. To distract him away from her.

Any inappropriate behavior will be punished, severely.

She faltered. This wasn't her place. This wasn't a part of her duties unless Jinshi said so. Inappropriate behavior wasn't called for. It will be punished severly.

Retracting her hand, she stands, and offers a respectful bow. "Please call me if you need anything, Jinshi-sama." And left him in his dark corner.

"Gaoshun, may I ask you something?"

"Of course, Jinshi-sama."

"You have been in my life for as long as I can remember. You remember more than I possibly could about my younger years. Whatever happened to cause me and Y/N to fall apart?"

"...."

"It had to be around the time I was eight that I noticed we were growing apart. Even now, I see it so clearly."

"It's been a long time, Jinshi-sama. You're no longer children."

"All the more reason to know, isn't it?"

"I don't know...."

"Gaoshun, nothing will come of it. I'm simply curious."

"..."

"I'm sorry to put you in this position. Please return to what you were doing."

"Jinshi-sama.... you might not like the truth..."

"I usually don't."

"Where to begin.... Before her eighth birthday—"

.....................................................................................................................

...........................................

.............................................

.............

......................

"H....E—"

Everything felt so muffled. Faraway. Featherlight.

Was that a pressure against your chest? A thump that came into quick successions, then stopped. For something soft and ever so delicate to press against your lips?

Everything was distant. So far away from your grasp. From your state of being. As if you were already long gone from whatever reality you were in moments ago.

"H—"

It was almost like floating. A gentle sway and a crack.

A joyful gliding against the sky that soothed you away from worries and woes.

Thump. Thump. Lips.

Repeating endlessly. Happily. Wetly?

Thump. Thump. Lips.

You welcomed it. Whatever it was. Whatever kept the rhythm. The wonderful rhythm.

Thump. Thump. Lips.

...................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................

Thump. Thump. Lips.

...........................................

Thump. Thump. Lips.

.............................................

Thump. Thump. Lips.

.............

Thump. Thump. Lips.

......................

THUMP. THUM—

You shot up with a cough.

Your throat burned and head ached terribly. Your eyes almost felt like they were about to pop out of your head and roll away. You felt horrible.

It didn't help that you were drenched from head to toe either.

Beside you, there was a heavy and loud sigh of relief as he fell to his backside. He let a silence fall over you both as you recovered, hand pressed against your throat and heaving.

Jesus. Had you almost...

The thought alone almost made you sick.

"I'm sorry. I thought.... I didn't think you still couldn't swim." His voice was soft, barely heard over the waterfall. Kind and cautious, worried and terrified. Things that seeped from his tone as if it were bleeding out and bearing all its insides to you.

Exposing him to you.

You peeked over your loose strands of hair to glare viciously at him. "When would I have the time to learn to swim?" You shot back ruthlessly, not entirely caring from etiquette in this moment. "You've lost your mind."

"Right." Jinshi immediately agreed, almost looking fearful as he watched you.

You push yourself up and take in a deep breath, coughing slightly at the burn of your throat. Taking in your surroundings, you swore that this was that—

"Are you really alright?"

You glanced back at the man and found him still sat on the damp ground. His eyebrows are furrowed and a small frown on his lips as he stared up at you. It made you uncomfortable. To see such a glittering violet staring back at you earnestly. Honestly.

You instead clutch onto your dress, "Suiren is gonna kill me." You scoff, tugging the garments apart.

You could hear Jinshi sputter behind you. The gravel and dirt below him crunching as he probably scrambled up from his spot.

You spared a feeble look over your shoulder to find him with his eyes clenched slowed, hand covering your body from his gaze. You snap your gaze back around and tug the fabric a little too hard as you scoff.

You wouldn't deny the pang of hurt that clenched your chest.

"Don't worry, Jinshi-sama, you won't have to see my unruly body of mine for long. I just want to make sure Suiren doesn't slaughter me when we return."

"I— No, I'm just— okay." He finally muttered.

You are stripped down to your underthings, placing the dress and various pieces on the ground as delicately as you can to avoid too much dirt being stained into the fabric.

As you place the last bit of clothing down, you hear the flutter of fabric behind you.

Jinshi is a bright red, gently tossing his robe down behind him. His back is facing you and you know its for whatever mock sense of modesty he wants to give the both of you. You instinctively reach out and take his robe in your grasp, twisting it and squeezing it to watch out a fair amount of water drip out.

"You worry about mine later. Take care of your things first."

Yeah, right, You think as you twist it with an unrelenting grip. You are there to serve your master. It's one of the first things you learn. His needs came before your own. His needs were your needs.

Jinshi snatched the robe away and squeezed the fabric tight, an overflowing amount of water released from the cloth and into the ground.

Okay, so maybe he was better at it than you.

You nod, turning your attention towards your own garments and try to ignore the overwhelming feeling that you had eyes on your rear.

"So, um—" Jinshi cleared his throat when his eyes dragged away from you, cheeks a bright red. "What now?"

"Well, we could attempt at trying to swim back—"

"You can't swim."

"I was going to say that."

"Oh, sorry."

There's a soft silence between the both of you as you finish up. Gently redressing, you make your way towards the entrance of the cave, where the waterfall is blocking it from any negative eyes. You press your lips into a thin line and regard it bitterly. You remember this waterfall.... you could recall the times you whimsical pondered what it'd be like to ride down it like in those stories.

Jinshi had promised such when you both were too young and too dumb to realize how naïve dreams like that were.

You couldn't really judge that mini-you, for you had your own dreams of—

"Remember when Gaoshun first brought us here?"

You hadn't realized that Jinshi made his way over until he was standing beside you. Robes lose over his shoulders and tugging on his top layer. Violet eyes were watching the water as if it were a canvas of memories in the long distant past. Something to be admired and viewed with daisies and smiles. Not to be addressed as anything but good or amazing. Not to see the truth of it all.

You press your lips together, drawing in a heavy breath, "I remember you pushing me in the water and Gaoshun having to pull me out."

Jinshi's face screws up slightly, a faint blush on his features as he almost looks around with shame. "Right...." He straightens, "I'm sorry."

You blink, "Huh?"

Jinshi glances at you with a small smile, "I, uh, never really apologized back then. Made you apologize like you did something wrong." He explains weakly.

You raise an amused brow, "I told you I wished you would drown."

"I kinda deserved it!" Jinshi counters, his lips cracking into a grin. That charming grin he gets that makes your heart flutter. Make you hopeful for terrible and wistful. "I'm real sorry."

You smile softly, eyes kind and soft as you regard him, "I forgave you a long time, Jinshi-sama."

Jinshi's expression faltered, "Don't call me...." He trailed off awkwardly, turning his attention back to the unrelenting waterfall. You watched him for that moment. That split second where it looked like he was actually going to say something that would make you lightheaded. His jaw working and the muscle jumping as he seems to contemplate his next words.

Say anything and I'll cling to it, You think, watching his lips part, I always have. I always will.

"I'm surprised you were the one that followed me out. I thought the Apothecary might've done it."

You tense. That was certainly not what you expected him to say. Of all the things he could say? The Apothecary.

The waterfall in front of you is suddenly much too loud and violent. The cave seems to darken and your eyes drag from Jinshi to stare at your bare feet. Of course. Of course. Why wouldn't he want Maomao? Why had you even came here? Who were you to get between whatever silent signal he was trying to send to the other girl.

Him and Maomao. It was nicer than him and you. Jinshi and Y/n.

You straighten, pushing down any ill thoughts and heavy feelings into the dark pits of your chest and mind. "I apologize for the intrusion. I thought it'd make more sense for me to accompany you, Jinshi-sama."

"Why are you apologizing....?" He trailed off and then made a noise that sounded eerily similar to that of a caught man. "No, wait, I'm really glad that you're the one who came! Like really glad!"

"You don't have to spare me, Jinshi-sama. I'm a woman now, not a little girl."

"I'm not—" He visibly slumps, closing his eyes and trying to collect whatever thoughts he has and place them appropriately. He draws in a breath and faces you, looking oddly serious compared to his usual self. "I'm not trying to spare your feelings. I was just trying to say that— Well, it's not— I want you here, Y/n."

He's sparing your feelings. He's being kind. He doesn't actually want you there. You can't be friends.

You don't spare him a response. Instead, walking further into the cave. You raise your eyebrows, looking at the gaping hole above you where light and the sounds of nature filtered in. What could possibly get you both out of there...?

Whistle. Sit.

Of course. Him.

Jinshi sighs, "I spoke to Gaoshun before we—"

You place your fingers in the corner of your mouth and blow. A loud whistle bounces off the cave walls and out of the hole. You wait and hope to hear a bark or see the familiar tall man, but there's nothing.

"What are you doing?" Jinshi asks slowly, glancing between you and the hole above.

"Hello?" You cup your hands over your mouth and shout as loudly as you can. "Is anyone out there?"

Jinshi frowns, staring at you uneasily, "Y/n, please, we don't want to attract them this direction."

In the mess of almost drowning and seeing peeps of Jinshi's bare skin, you'd almost forgotten that you both had been chased down here by some violent assassin. Rather foolish, if you were honest.

You place the tips of your fingers against your lips and try to force the blush spreading across your cheeks off. "Sorry." You offer a bow of your head, despite the position you both find yourselves in.

You receive no response which causes you to peek at him. The stare that he's leveling you with doesn't bring you any type of comfort. It usually meant he was about to say something that—

"Hop on my back and see if you can reach up there."

—you wouldn't like.

Your eyebrows shot upwards and you stared at him with wide eyes. If Suiren was here and knew what he just proposed, she'd positively lose her mind. No matter how long she had known you— she'd think it improper. He was your boss and you were his lowly servant. To be in an position above him or treating him like a mat, it was...

It was simply ridiculous.

"But—"

"If you're the one below, you'll get crushed." He jabs a thumb over his shoulder. "Do it."

And that's how you ended up here. Legs wrapped around Jinshi's shoulders and heads, hand reaching out for the dirt above. You dig your fingers in and glance down at the man below you.

"Are you sure I'm not hurting you?"

Jinshi sighed for what seemed the hundredth time that day, his hand on your thigh squeezing gently. "Y/N, please stop asking me that."

You grimace, "My apologies, Jinshi-sama. Sorry." You shakily raise from your place, ignoring the soft and deep grunt Jinshi gives as you stand on his shoulders.

You dig your nails into the damp dirt and begin to tug yourself up.

This is it. Finally, you could get into the open forest once again. You're not going to be suffocated by his presence. Everything will return back to its rightful places—

You froze when it smacked you in the forehead.

You tried to keep calm as you felt the slimy breathing thing rest on your skin. Body tensed up and eyes staring widely at the bright sky above.

"Y/N?" Jinshi softly called, noticing the way you tensed.

"F—Frog." You utter, jaw clenched tight and you felt it shift as you take a deep breath. "A frog."

Jinshi blinked, looking up at you with his own wide eyes, "Hey, don't-don't freak out! Just shake your head and it'll hop off."

You shake a little, but follow his instructions. However, you may have overestimated the shake as you lose your grip on the dirt and begin to fall back.

"Hey!"

The tumble down is short and not all that hurtful, like you had been expecting. You had closed your eyes in anticipation, fear of having to watch the ground quickly approach too much for your tiny heart. You expected to feel the damp mud to be seeping into your clothes and little bits of stone and bark digging into your skin. However—

Nothing.

There was nothing except the soft silk under your fingers. The scent that resembled a sweet fruit, one that you had smelt quite often in the mornings. In the noons, the evenings, the nights, repeat. You knew that smell and that familiar beat against your own chest.

Peeking your eyes open, you find that Jinshi is already staring back at you. The first thing you notice is that you both are extremely close to one another. His breath fans against your dewy face, making goosebumps raise off your skin and a shiver sent down your spin. Next is his tender expression, Eyes gentle and twinkling. His expression isn't filled with pain or anything that would indicate that he was uncomfortable with the very short distance between you both. The last thing you notice is the fact that your body is pressed against his.

Your complexion flushes and you blink down at him.

He's warm. Incredibly warm. A sharp contrast to his damp clothes, which are open and pooling under his shoulder blades, revealing his bare chest to you. Your breath is ripped from you as you stare at the plump skin. You've seen it a million times. Every day as you help him get ready for the day. It should be normal. Should be something that doesn't make you lightheaded.

But it does.

He's right there. Right against you. You can feel his heartbeat ramming against his chest and into yours. You can feel every small breath he takes—as if hanging onto this moment with, what? Trepidation? Unease? You weren't entirely sure but you knew that you felt light.

Was it so bad that you felt nice in this moment? That this warmth was wrong? Was it so out of your reach that you simply couldn't imagine a man wanting to embrace you in a way?

You are to give your life to your master. Any inappropriate behavior will be punished, severely.

Yes. It was.

You clenched your jaw, ignoring the tender look in Jinshi's eyes as you try to bring your mind into the present.

The frog.

It wasn't anything that you wanted to touch, but Jinshi was your master. Your discomforts and fears must be pushed away for his sake and needs.

Reaching down, you feel for any signs of the frog. It wasn't large, but it wasn't entirely small either. It wouldn't be hard to find in all it's slimy and— There it is.

Your hand brushed it and you feel almost elated to find it. Your hand cupped around the bulge from Jinshi's robes. It feels much bigger than the average frog that'd been on your forehead. It was unmoving to, except for the small twitch it gives as you rest your palm down. You gripped it.

"Hng," Jinshi grunts, his eyes close. You're a little shocked as his hips shift, his hands at your hips dig into your flesh, almost too eager. You snap your eyes upward to his suddenly sweating and flushed face. "I-I'm sorry, but... but could you move your hand? It's making things, um, rather difficult."

Difficult?

You grip onto the twitching frog below you—

"U-Uh—" Jinshi moans in a deep and guttural way that would make anyone, especially you, malfunction. It doesn't help that his hands latch onto you harder, pressing you closer and releasing a stuttering breath against your ear.

Why was he squirming so much? Why was his face so red and dripping with sweat? Why was his chest heaving and his hands flexing around your skin? And why was this thing twitching and getting bigger in your hold....

Oh.

You are to give your life to your master. Any inappropriate behavior will be punished, severely.

You felt a little sick at your intrusion. At the gall. You couldn't believe yourself. You had violated one of the single rules you were ever given. You violated Jinshi's space. His entire being. You were to be punished and hated— ousted from your position.

Disgusted with yourself, you slowly stand up. Jinshi's softly panting from his position on the ground, running a hand through his mused hair.

"S-Sorry, I haven't— I'm a bit—" Jinshi's obviously embarassed and uncomfortable. Look what you've done. You've ruined it all. "Hey, where are you going?"

Before you could think much more as his hands grip your hips once again and pull you down.

You're sat on his his lap and you could feel it.

"J-Jinshi-sama, I'm so-I'm so sorry!" You tucked your head down, shaking with trembling lips.

Jinshi's hands fall to your thighs, limp, "Eh...?"

"What I did was truly inappropriate and-and I will take any and all punishment!"

"Punishment...?" He sounded terribly confused, still a bit breathless. You keep your head ducked and he remains unmoved. "Why would I... you're not getting punished."

"I give my life to you. Any inappropriate behavior will be punished." You repeated softly under your breath, tucking your hands against your face to hide away from his gaze. From the judgement and hatred. "It's only just."

There's a longstanding silence between the both of you and you're hopeful that he's coming to his senses. That you'd be released and freed. That you would finally accept the gap and space between them. To fall away, finally, to the shadows.

It was tarnished the moment Jinshi wraps your hands around your own, gently prying your hands away from your face.

He doesn't look vengeful or angered. No. No, he looks kind. As he always has been. Kind and considerate. Honest and open. He'd always been so...

He'd never really been angry with you. Not without sadness being overbearing. Always so quick to forgive you. To push everything away with a smile and crinkle of his eyes.

"Y/N..." His words are as soft as his expression.

Your hands shake, "Please... Please hate me." You pleaded quietly, pressing your forehead against his hands as if he were a monk to be begged to.

"I'm not going to punish you or... or anything of the sort. Why would you want that?"

You draw in a watery breath, shoulders shaking, "It's easier to let go that way." You admitted.

"Let go of what?"

"Of my love for you."

"What?!"

His shout echoed off the cave walls. Your humiliation and embarrassment was quick to follow once it bounced back at you. Made you flinch back and try to push yourself back from his lap. Why did you say anything? Fool. Disgusting fool.

"Hey, hey, hey," Jinshi's hands wrap around your wrists and tug you forward a bit. You refuse to meet his eye. You refuse to be humiliated and demeaned— "Don't do that. Don't close off."

You clench your jaw and try to push the humilation deep within you, taking a deep calming breath as you stared at his bare collar. "You're so kind and so... you. I'm sorry if I make you uncomfortable or disgusted, but I need to tell you. And then I would hope that you would let me go."

Jinshi's eyebrows shot up. "Let you go?"

You've been thinking about this for some time. That it all would be better if, in the end, you were to serve someone else. That you were pawned off for some soldier instead of this slow torture. This uncomfortable, unbearable tiptoeing.

"I would like for you to offer me to a soldier or anywhere else."

The reaction is instant. The way Jinshi's complexion darkens and he stares at you with wide eyes. He slumps into the damp ground and almost turns into putty. His hold on you slackens and gives you ample opportunity to move away. But you're frozen in your spot.

"Why would I do that?" Jinshi's voice is quiet, slow, "You're... You're mine."

A blush takes over your cheeks, "Jinshi-sama, It's not appropriate! I shouldn't be like this with you."

"What if I like it?"

You blink at him. "Huh?"

Jinshi leans forward, his thumb gently skirting against your skin. "What if I have some love for you too? What if I don't care about what's appropriate or follows the rules."

I would ask who you are. You were tempted to say but your mouth was clamped shut in shock. Following the rules had been completely him. He was put in his current position now to ensure the rules in the rear palace were being followed diligently. The thought that he would love someone like you when there were people like Maomao or princesses out there. People much more deserving of his devotion. It wasn't right.

As if sensing you're not believing him, he pulls away and presses his lips thin. "Okay, I'll convince you." He straightens up and takes a breath. "I spoke to Gaoshun not too long ago. Before we came here and I know everything now."

A pause. Everything. He knew everything now? Everything is so much. Everything is... well, everything. What exactly had Gaoshun told him?

"What's everything?"

"That my mother didn't want you around anymore. That Gaoshun told you that you weren't allowed around me anymore. That you stopped being my friend and became my employee."

Your stare up at Jinshi with wide eyes. "That's not...Us being friends wasn't right anymore."

Jinshi frowned, shaking his head and his hands slide up to your arms. "If I had my way, I would've had you by my side all that time. Not as some lady-in-waiting, but as my equal."

You shake your head, ignoring the erratic beating of your heart against your chest. "Don't say that. Don't say things you don't mean, Jinshi." You beg softly.

Jinshi reaches out, wrapping his hands around your own, pressing it against his chest. "I mean it with everything in me. If it were up to me, I wouldn't have ever been separated from you. Forget what my mother said." His words were sweet, tempting. They made you lightheaded. So did the sudden brightness and tender smile on his face. "That's the first time you've called me Jinshi since we were kids."

"What? I've always called you Jinshi."

"No, you've always called me Jinshi-sama."

"Oh."

You suppose you had.

"Jinshi," You utter, unsure of what else you both could say.

Jinshi's expression, if possible, softens further, leaning forward an inch. "Yes?" He whispers back just as softly.

Your eyes trail between his eyes before moving to his lips, parted and glistening, "Jinshi..."

Jinshi's hand slides up your thigh and his lips are ghosting against yours, "I'm here. I promise." He whispers before pressing your lips together delicately.

Your heart soars. Your hands shakily press against his cheeks, drawing closer as his own press your hips together. He's soft. He's tender. He's cautious and all encompassing. Filling your senses and making you lightheaded.

As you both part for a breath, he flips you onto your back. His hand grips the underside of your thigh and presses you close enough that he lets out a soft and broken sound.

His eyes are heavily lidded as he gazes down at you, lips pink. "I just want you. No one else. I promise." He utters.

You twist your hands into his hair, eyes fluttering. "You're it." You pass back.

His lips are back on yours. Wet and eager. This is sudden. Fast. But you've been waiting for so long. Had been clinging onto the smallest of things. Desperate to have this closeness that you had now. To feel his skin against yours. His breath mixing with your own. Everything him and everything you intertwined.

You just wanted to cherish this—

WOOF!

You and Jinshi both tense up, jumping. Looking over his shoulder, your eyes widen upon finding a familiar dog staring down at you both, wagging tail eager and happy to see you.

Jinshi's eyebrows furrow, "Huh...?"

There's not much warning before the dog is jumping down. Landing straight on Jinshi's back, causing the poor man to let out a pained sound. He's squishing you against the ground as the dog stands on his back, happily lapping his tongue against your cheek.

Vague disgust and disappointment wash over you, but you smile all the same. "Oh, boy!"

He barks again. A greeting you're sure.

Above, Lihaku and, surprisingly, Maomao appear. Both of them stare down at you with varying degrees of emotions. Lihaku looked excited and kinda like his dog, while Maomao.

Well, Maomao looked all too knowing.

"Well, you look rough!" Lihaku called down with a grin, "Glad to see you're not dead."

"As am I!" You huff out a laugh, then look to Maomao. "Hello, Xiaomao!"

"Hello." Maomao said flatly, she looked lower and her face screwed up distastefully. "Is Jinshi-sama okay?"

Lihaku then he spots his dog and slightly pales, letting out a sharp whistle. "C'mon, boy!"

The dog eagerly jumps off Jinshi, going to sit by your head and wag his tail. The man above you sighs in relief, pushing up off you. He sits up and you try not to focus on the bright blush on his face.

"Why did he do that?" The royal asks.

"Must've thought something was wrong." Lihaku rubs the back of his neck, frowning down at you both. "What... exactly where you two doing?"

You and Jinshi glance at one another, furious blushes flushing over you both. Despite anything that Jinshi said, there were things that you weren't allowed to do. Rules and laws that forbid something like this form happening the public eye. For a man like himself from being with a woman like you. A servant with a beautiful prince.

Protecting him was the priority.

"Nothing!" You shout back, ignoring the eyebrow raise that garnered from both Jinshi and Maomao.

Everything was better left alone. A secret between the both of you. To cherish and hold for however long it may need. You could deal with the anger and longing later.

#✩࿐ t writes #jinshi x reader #apothecary diaries #apothecary diaries x reader #jinshi #jinshi x y/n #jinshi x you #Kusuriya no Hitorigoto x reader #Kusuriya no Hitorigoto #request #anon

928 notes · View notes

captain039 · 2 months ago

Text

PART 4 On the edge

Alpha Jayce x omega reader

Warnings: AOB, light swearing, feral alpha, intimacy, angst, SPOILERS, Fated mates, hurt/comfort, eventual smut

The emotions I was feeling during these last three episodes have me so sad and angsty.

Previous part <-

Jayce is overly silent, often pacing slowly up and down the small hut, his body twitching occasionally. You wonder what he went through when he was gone, what made him go feral? You don’t want to push, you don’t want to overwhelm him. You’ve returned to the upper-city, he stays with his mother now and you’re left in your small apartment feeling detached. You want the simplicity of being in the lab again, though you weren’t neither as smart as either Jayce or Vik, you helped with keeping things organised, making sure they were fed and slept properly. You don’t bring up the mate test even when you go get one yourself. They hand you a slip of paper and in bold print it says Jayce Talis, the medical officer had winked but you just felt a pit in your stomach. You hardly know what Jayce does anymore, you’ve barely seen him till he knocked on your door in the middle of the night. You’re back on your suppressants, the moment you went home you took them again despite the medical officers warnings, you didn’t care, you didn’t want to feel like this. It’s raining gently again when you open the door, you see Jayce soaked, his hammer by his side a wild look in his eyes and you panic. The hammer hums gently with recent use and you frown.

“Jayce what did you do?” You whisper.

“What I promised” is all he answers.

You sit there Jayces head in your lap while your hand rests on his shoulder, he hadn’t gone back to being feral thankfully, but you still don’t know what he did.

“Jayce” you mutter and he tenses making sag.

“I- I killed Viktor” he whispers and it’s like a shard of ice and your whole body freezes.

“Why?” Is all you manage.

“You wouldn’t understand” he says rolling over nuzzling his face into your stomach.

“I won’t if you won’t tell me” you say voice rising a bit.

“I went somewhere” he begins softly after some silence.

“I was teleported, to our future” he says carefully.

“Piltover, Zaun ruined, nobody was alive, it was all ruined by the hex core inside Viktor. I was chased by something, I fell so far down. I was down there for months, useless” he tenses a low growl on his lips and you rub your hand up and down his arm gently calming him.

“I was stuck but climbed out, I climbed to the top of the hex gate where he met me” his eyes are hard then soft.

“It was him, Viktor, the one who saved me when I was a kid somehow, with the Arcane he- I don’t know” he clenches his fist.

“He made me promise to destroy the hex core, otherwise we’d suffer the same fate” he closes his eyes and nuzzles closer arm going around your waist as he sighs deeply. You try to process his story you really do, Viktor went back in time to save Jayce then forward to meet Jayce and now sent Jayce back to kill himself?

You sit there for a while listening to the gentle patter of rain. Your mind swirling, Jayce is asleep, mouth slightly open as he breathes evenly but deeply. Viktor gone? Truely? or would it repeat from the explosion.

You fall asleep eventually in the early morning, neck awkwardly tilted back. You feel movement and let out a small groan moving your neck into a comfortable position. Lips press to your head and soft words reach your ears.

“I need to go to the council” Jayce whispers.

“I’ll be back for you, I promise” he adds adding another kiss to your cheek before he’s gone. You open your eyes and stare at the ceiling, his scent lingers around you, his warmth dulling. You busy yourself with normal day to day things, wondering if he would be back.

It’s been a few days since then. You rot away in your apartment, you’re forced to go out to get food, you wander the street on auto pilot, grabbing what you need before heading home. You barely get through the door till you’re engulfed in warmth and strong arms. Jayce had charged at you like a bull if his arms weren’t around you, you’d be on the floor.

“Where were you?!” You frown at his tone and hold up the bag of food as he sighs in relief.

“Sorry, I’m sorry- Viktor-“ he runs a hand through his hair. He trimmed it along with his beard you lift your free hand without thinking running it through the soft trimmed hairs. He sighs instantly closing his eyes and nuzzling into it but you smell Mel on him. You draw back a small frown on your face.

“Viktor?” You question instead.

“He got into the council room, Mel’s returned he tried to attack us” he runs a hand through his hair again.

“But-?” You frown.

“He’s controlling these, things I don’t know what they are, he’s not dead, he’s building an army with Ambessa” you frown at the mention of Mel’s mother, why would one such as her team up with Viktor?

“I need you to come with me to the council building, please I need to keep you safe, my mothers already there, we’re going to send a message tomorrow with everyone Piltover- Zaun” he looks stressed, distraught almost and you nod.

“Ok” you say softly and he sighs in relief hugging you tightly again.

“Let me pack” you say without hugging him back.

“Of course, I’ll help” he nods moving around your apartment as if it was his own. You pack your clothes, toiletries and anything else important. Jayce packs the food and some other things before he nods to you. Going to the council building is strange, sure you’ve been here and the research lab but being in the actual council room is daunting. You see Mel there, a white robe and hood, you see Jayces mother, Caitlyn who you haven’t seen in ages and a pink haired alpha woman. Caitlyn looks to you and smiles she walks over and hugs you and you sigh. You haven’t seen her in a while and she was one of your closest friends. You hug her tightly and look to the woman behind her.

“This is Vi” Caitlyn introduces.

“Hi” you nod telling her your name and she nods to you.

“Tomorrow’s gonna be hard” Jayce sighs leaning against the council table.

“Bringing everyone together in a time of need is always a challenge” Ms Talis says.

“We need everyone” Mel says as you peer to the cloth covered thing on the table.

“What’s that?” You ask nodding your head. Jayce turns and sighs going over to it and removing the cover. You frown and walk over eyeing the creature, almost robotic looking.

“Viktor attacked in it” Jayce said and your frown deepens you see the finger prints into its head same ones as the people in the sanctuary.

“He’s making more” he adds.

“He wants whatever is in the Hex gate” he sighs this time.

“Get some rest, tomorrow will be a big day” Mel calls and walks away. So does everyone else leaving you and Jayce.

“What happened to Mel?” You ask softly.

“She went through something” Jayce answers and you nod knowing better than to press.

“You should get some rest” you say going to walk away as Jayce covers the being before grabbing your wrist.

“Stay” he says and you frown and stop looking to him.

“Stay with me tonight” he adds a little breathlessly. You tense a bit but nod figuring he needs some comfort. His room is as you remember, dark blue quilt on a queen bed. The dark wooden furniture and cleanliness, his scent faint but everywhere.

“Jayce-“ you begin to say turning around but lips press to yours making you gasp in shock.

“Jayce wait-“ you press against his chest and he lets out a small sigh and pulls back.

“What are you doing?” You whisper.

“I saw the test” he mutters and you frown for a moment before it clicks.

“Jayce-“ you sigh.

“No- no listen to me please” the alpha begs and you look to him.

“I always had a feeling” he smiles sheepishly and you frown making his smile falter.

“Is that- ok- I- I always felt drawn to you but I didn’t know if it was because of that ok, and everything that’s happened Hex tech-“ he runs a hand through his hair again.

“Mel” you mutter and he frowns.

“It was once” he says and you know you have no right to be jealous over the beta woman but still.

“And it felt wrong, I didn’t-“

“Didn’t want to disappoint” you comment and he grimaces.

“Jayce a war is going to happen as you said, there’s no time for- feelings or mates or- anything” he looks hurt, like you physically struck him. He doesn’t look like the foreboding feral alpha, he looks like a kicked puppy. His hands fall from your shoulders and his head hangs.

“Is that what you want?” He mutters, a tone so soft you’ve never heard it before from him or any alpha for that matter.

“What do you mean what I want?” You ask.

“You don’t want this?” He presses his alpha side pressing through.

“Jayce” you sigh and he nods face hardening and devoid of emotions.

“I’m sorry I brought you here” he says and leaves. You watch him leave standing in his room your hands shaking as you let out a small cry.

Next part ->

#x reader #aob #Arcane s2 #Arcane spoilers #arcane x reader #Jayce Talis #arcane jayce #jayce x reader #alpha Jayce #alpha Jayce x reader

102 notes · View notes

tenuuchlegch · 1 year ago

Text

❃ "What to do now? ... I may have a few ideas~"

#COME! I SHALL DANCE AND SING TO THE TRAGEDY OF FATE (ic)#OPEN #PAST THE FAR EDGE OF FATE I STAND (endwalker)#((this is the face of a woman who has asked a dragoon OUT))#Odette: Finally got it out of my system #6.5 spoilers//

6 notes · View notes

allthemeniveloved · 1 month ago

Text

It Will Come Back - Part 8

Summary: Arthur and the others return from Guarma worn and weary, prompting you to call on Arthur for help with rescuing John.

wc: 4.9k

ao3 link

Tags: Arthur Morgan x fem!reader, fluff, angst, hurt comfort, reminding myself that this is a love triangle story, did you miss Arthur?

a/n: EEEEK! This might not be everyone's favorite chapter but this is for sure one of mine. Btw, this'll be the last chapter that clings heavily to the canon storyline for any of you hoping to avoid real spoilers.

And the day that we'll watch the death of the sun That the cloud and the cold and those jeans you have on Then you'll gaze unafraid as they sob from the city roofs

Wasteland, baby I'm in love I'm in love with you

The swamp was alive with a suffocating tension as the remnants of the gang scrambled to leave Shady Belle. The failed Saint Denis bank robbery had sent shockwaves through everyone, and with the Pinkertons closing in and the law hot on their trail, there was no time to mourn, rest, or even think. Sadie, sharp-eyed and determined, had stepped in to take charge amidst the chaos, her voice calm yet firm as she directed the others. “We can’t stay here,” she said, helping Abigail bundle Jack onto a horse, her tone leaving no room for argument. “Lakay’s far enough out to give us time to breathe, but we’ve gotta move now.” The gang, rattled but desperate, followed her lead, pulling together what little they could carry from the crumbling mansion as the clock seemed to tick down.

You worked alongside the others, your hands trembling as you stuffed supplies into saddlebags, your mind reeling with the thought of those still missing. Arthur, Dutch, Micah, Javier, and Bill had disappeared after the bank job, and no one had heard from them since. Abigail’s distraught cries were a constant reminder of the others you had already lost: Hosea and Lenny, gone forever. The weight of it all sat heavy on your chest, but there was no time to grieve. The law could arrive at any moment, and Sadie’s steady leadership was the only thing keeping the group moving forward.

The journey to Lakay was grueling, the horses trudging through thick mud and water as the humid air clung to your skin. The swamp seemed to close in around you, the dense trees and hanging moss creating an oppressive atmosphere that matched the mood of the gang. Dahlia’s steps were careful but unsteady as you followed the caravan of riders, your eyes scanning the horizon for any sign of pursuit. Sadie and Miss Grimshaw led the way, all eyes fixed ahead, while Pearson’s wagon groaned under the weight of the camp’s salvaged supplies.

When Lakay finally came into view, it was a dismal sight—ramshackle huts barely standing on the edge of stagnant, murky water. The air smelled of decay and mildew, and the buzzing of mosquitoes filled the humid night. It was far from a home, but Sadie called it safe, and that was all that mattered. “Get settled,” she barked as the gang began to dismount. “We’ll rebuild here. It’s not forever, but it’ll do for now.”

The camp quickly descended into controlled chaos as everyone worked to unpack. Miss Grimshaw and Pearson began setting up stations, muttering under their breath about the lack of space. Sadie helped the rest of the women while you lingered near the outskirts, your eyes darting back toward the swamp trail. The longer you waited, the harder it was to ignore the sinking feeling in your stomach. Where were they?

Twenty-six long days had passed since the gang had relocated to Lakay, and the tension in the swampy camp had only grown heavier with each sunrise. The shacks were barely holding together, the air thick with mosquitoes and the stink of stagnant water, and the days stretched endlessly as everyone tried to scrape by. You’d nearly given up hope of ever seeing the missing men again. Every night, as you lay awake on your makeshift cot, you couldn’t stop wondering if they were alive, or if they’d met the same grim fate as Hosea and Lenny.

After Saint Denis, the weight of everything made the idea of leaving feel impossible. You told yourself it was practical to stay, that you needed their resources and protection, but deep down, you feared you didn’t have the strength to survive alone out in the unforgiving wilderness. As much as you hated the chaos, abandoning the gang felt like stepping into an even darker unknown, and you weren’t sure you had it in you to face that kind of uncertainty alone.

The thought of John in prison was a weight that never left your chest, pressing down harder with each passing day. You couldn’t stop your mind from wandering to dark places, imagining him locked away in some cold, damp cell, surrounded by unforgiving walls and cruel guards. Was he being fed? Was he hurt? The unanswered questions gnawed at you constantly, leaving you restless and sleepless most nights.

Worst of all was the fear that you might never know the truth. The uncertainty tore at you like a jagged edge—what if the law had decided he wasn’t worth keeping alive? What if they’d already executed him, leaving you here, clinging to the hope of a man who was gone? You tried to push the thoughts away, tried to focus on the slim possibility of rescue or escape, but the gnawing doubt refused to be silenced. The idea of him out there, suffering or worse, while you were helpless to do anything, felt like it was breaking you piece by piece.

Then, one humid evening as the sun dipped below the swamp, the unmistakable sound of hoofbeats shattered the quiet. You bolted upright, your heart leaping into your throat as you ran to the edge of camp. The sight of five riders emerging from the mist left you breathless—Arthur, Dutch, Micah, Javier, and Bill, their figures gaunt and weary, their clothes tattered and caked in dirt. They looked like they’d been through hell, their faces hollowed with exhaustion and their eyes haunted.

Arthur dismounted first, his movements slow and deliberate as he scanned the camp, his gaze finally landing on you. You didn’t hesitate; your feet moved before you even realized, and you ran straight to him, your chest tight with emotion. “Arthur!” you cried, your voice trembling as you threw your arms around him, holding him tightly like he might vanish if you let go.

He stiffened at first, clearly caught off guard, but then his hands came up to rest on your back, his touch grounding and steady despite the weight he carried. “Easy now,” he murmured, his voice rough and hoarse, but there was a flicker of warmth in it that made tears spring to your eyes. “I’m here. I made it back.”

You pulled back just enough to search his face, your hands gripping his arms as your gaze swept over his tired features. “I - we thought you were gone,” you whispered, your voice cracking. “Twenty-six days, Arthur. Twenty-six days, and we heard nothing!”

His brow furrowed, guilt and weariness mingling in his eyes as he glanced toward Dutch, who was dismounting nearby with a grim expression. “It wasn’t easy,” Arthur said quietly, his voice laced with exhaustion. “We got stuck… in more ways than one. But we’re here now.” Only then did you notice that Arthur’s face was uncharacteristically red, the skin across his nose and cheeks raw and peeling as if he’d spent days under an unrelenting sun. You frowned as you looked at him, curiosity stirring in your chest.

He didn’t offer details, and you didn’t press him. The relief of seeing him alive and back at camp was enough, for now. As the others dismounted and the camp stirred with murmurs and questions, you clung to Arthur a moment longer, your heart still racing. Whatever hell they’d been through, you could tell it wasn’t over—and neither was the fight to keep the gang together.

You grabbed a bowl of stew from the pot Pearson had set up, the steam rising in swirls as you carried it over to Arthur, who looked like he could barely stand. “Here,” you said softly, nudging him toward a crate to sit on. He hesitated for a moment, his brows furrowing as he watched you, but he finally sank down with a heavy sigh. Sitting across from him, you studied his sunburnt face, the peeling skin and exhaustion in his eyes, and an unexpected wave of relief washed over you. You didn’t think you’d ever see him again, and the fact that he was here—alive, even if worse for wear—tugged at something deep in your chest. “You okay?” you asked quietly, your voice softer than you intended.

Arthur glanced at you, his brow furrowed, and muttered, “Didn’t figure you’d lose sleep over what happens to the likes of me.” Though his tone lacked its usual edge, as if he wasn’t sure he believed his own words. You hesitated, the mix of guilt and gratitude swirling in your chest, leaving you unsure how to respond. “Of course I do,” you finally said, your voice barely audible as you looked away, unable to face the question lingering in his tired gaze.

Your fingers began to fiddle with the edge of your sleeve. “I was worried. I didn’t know if you’d come back, and… I didn’t want to lose you too.”

Arthur’s expression softened, though he still looked uncertain, his fingers idly turning the spoon in the bowl of stew.

“Guess I didn’t think you still gave a damn about me,” he admitted, his voice low and gruff, like he wasn’t quite sure how to say the words. He leaned back slightly, his tired eyes meeting yours with a flicker of something you couldn’t quite place. “But I appreciate it. More’n you know.”

For a moment, the two of you sat in silence, the sounds of the camp distant as the weight of the past weeks hung between you. Despite everything, Arthur’s presence grounded you, his steady strength a reminder that you weren’t as alone as you feared. “Well,” you said quietly, offering a small, tentative smile, “you’ll have to get used to it, Arthur. Like it or not, some of us do give a damn.”

A ghost of a smile tugged at his lips, and he nodded, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “I reckon I’ll try to remember that,” he said, his voice lighter now, though his weariness lingered. He picked up the bowl of stew and began to eat, his movements slow but steady, and you stayed beside him and studied the worn features on his face.

Arthur’s beard had grown wild and uneven, the sun catching on the lighter strands that peppered the thicker growth along his jaw. It framed his face in a way you weren’t used to, making him seem even more rugged, almost untamed after the time he’d been gone. Your eyes lingered, tracing the curve of his jawline beneath the sunburnt skin, down to the faint hollow of his throat just visible beneath his open collar, the worn fabric clinging to his sweat-dampened skin. You’d thought you might never see him again, and the realization hit you all over again, making your chest tighten. He shifted slightly, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees as he finished his food, and you couldn’t help but study him further—the sharp lines of his features softened by exhaustion, the way his collarbone rose and fell with each steady breath, grounding you in the moment. Despite the grime and wear, there was something reassuringly familiar about him, something that made you feel, if only for a moment, like everything might still be okay.

The silence between you was heavy, and when he finally spoke, his voice was low and rough. “I owe you an apology,” he began, not meeting your gaze. “For what I said when I found out about you and John. I was angry, and… I shouldn’t’ve said half the things I did.”

You swallowed hard, the memory of that confrontation still fresh in your mind, the sting of his words lingering even now. “Arthur,” you said softly, your voice trembling slightly.

He nodded slowly, his jaw tightening. “I know,” he said quietly, his tone laced with guilt. Tears stung your eyes as you leaned forward, your hands clasping together in your lap. “I never stopped caring about you, Arthur,” you sighed, your voice barely above a whisper. “I still care about you. And when you said those things, it… it felt like I lost a part of you that I’d always counted on.”

His shoulders sagged, and he let out a long sigh, finally looking at you fully. “You didn’t lose me,” he said, his voice softer now, filled with a quiet sincerity. “I was hurt, sure, but that ain’t an excuse for the way I acted.”

You nodded, a small, tentative smile tugging at your lips despite the tears threatening to spill. “I just want us to be okay again.” you said softly.

Arthur’s expression softened, and he gave a small, weary smile. “We’ll be alright,” he said, his voice steady.

Arthur glanced up from his stew, his tired eyes narrowing slightly as he caught your lingering gaze, and a faint, wry smirk tugged at the edge of his lips despite the exhaustion weighing on him. “Careful, darlin’,” he murmured, his voice low and gravelly, “John might not take too kindly to you lookin’ at me like that.” His words jolted you, and your face flushed as you quickly looked away.

You shifted uncomfortably under Arthur’s gaze, your cheeks still warm from his teasing, but the weight of everything left unsaid between you pressed down too heavily to ignore. Clearing your throat, you quickly changed the subject. “Arthur,” you began quietly, your voice trembling slightly, “John was arrested after the bank job in Saint Denis.”

Arthur froze, the spoon in his hand hovering mid-air as his tired eyes widened slightly. “Arrested?” he repeated, his voice rough and low, his brows furrowing. “What’re you talkin’ about? I thought he and Abigail had both gotten away.”

You blinked, taken aback. “She did,” you explained quickly, guilt tightening in your chest. “But when she got back to Shady Belle, she told us she saw him being taken away. Pinkertons caught him right after everything started.”

You blinked, your heart sinking as the realization hit. “I thought you knew,” you said softly, your voice almost breaking. “We’ve all been waiting—hoping for news. But it’s been weeks, Arthur. Abigail hasn’t heard a word since she saw them take him.”

Arthur exhaled sharply, his jaw tightening as he set the bowl aside, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. “Damn it,” he muttered, his voice laced with frustration and worry.

Arthur’s gaze hardened, the exhaustion in his eyes giving way to a sharp focus as he leaned toward you. “Where’s he bein’ held?” he asked, his voice low but urgent.

You swallowed hard, shaking your head slightly as you admitted, “We don’t know… Abigail saw them take him, but she couldn’t follow—no one’s been able to find out.”

Arthur’s jaw tightened as he stared at the ground, the weight of everything hanging heavy in the air. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he sighed deeply and said, “I’ll talk to Dutch in the morning… see if we can come up with somethin’.” The words barely left his mouth before you collapsed to your knees in front of him, the desperation you’d been holding back spilling over as you wrapped your arms around his torso, clutching him tightly.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice trembling as your cheek pressed against the worn fabric of his shirt. For a moment, Arthur froze, his arms hovering awkwardly, unsure of what to do. Then, with a quiet sigh, he rested a hand gently on the back of your head, his other arm wrapping around your shoulders as he held you close. “It’s gonna be alright,” he murmured, though his voice was rough, and the words seemed meant as much for himself as for you. As he sat there, comforting you despite the lingering ache in his chest, he realized that no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t stop himself from caring for you—no matter the cost.

Arthur let out a quiet sigh, his strong arms wrapping around you as he pulled you closer, letting your weight rest against him as the dam finally broke. You sobbed into his chest, your fingers clutching the fabric of his shirt tightly, releasing everything you’d bottled up for the past month—the fear, the guilt, the sleepless nights wondering if John was still alive, and the unbearable tension of holding it all in. Arthur didn’t say anything at first, his hands moving in slow, comforting strokes along your back as he held you like he had all the time in the world. His warmth and steady presence grounded you, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you let yourself collapse fully into your grief, his chest rising and falling beneath your cheek in a rhythm that soothed your racing heart.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered between sobs, your voice cracking as you tried to pull yourself together. “I shouldn’t… you’ve been through so much, and here I am falling apart on you.” You made to pull back, but Arthur’s arms only tightened around you, keeping you close. “Don’t do that,” he said gruffly, his voice softer than usual but carrying an undeniable firmness. “You’ve been holdin’ all this in, and it ain’t good for you. Hell, I’d feel worse if you didn’t let it out.” His words broke through your reluctance, and you buried your face against him again, tears streaming freely as he rested his chin lightly on the top of your head. “We’ll figure it out,” he murmured, his voice low and steady, the roughness of it oddly soothing. “You ain’t gotta carry all this by yourself anymore, alright?” For a brief moment, the weight of your burdens felt just a little lighter, shared in the quiet strength of his embrace.

Arthur shifted slightly, his arms still wrapped securely around you, and murmured, “C’mon, darlin’, let’s get you off this cold ground.” Before you could protest, he lifted you effortlessly, his strong arms cradling you as he stood, holding you close against his chest. You blinked up at him through tear-soaked lashes, feeling a mix of gratitude and embarrassment. “Arthur, you don’t have to—”

“Hush,” he interrupted, his voice soft but firm, his eyes meeting yours with a steady warmth. “You’re worn out, and you’ve been carryin’ too much for too long. Just let me do this, alright?”

He carried you into one of the small, rickety shacks at Lakay, the floorboards creaking faintly under his boots as he stepped inside. He laid you down gently on the small cot in the corner, adjusting the blanket to cover you before taking a seat on the edge of the bed. You reached out instinctively, your hand brushing against his, not wanting him to go. “Arthur… don’t leave,” you whispered, your voice barely audible in the dim light.

He hesitated for a moment, the faint flicker of something unspoken crossing his face, before he nodded. “Alright,” he murmured, pulling off his hat and setting it on the floor beside him. He eased down beside you, his large frame careful not to take up too much space as he leaned back against the wall.

As you settled into the thin mattress, the tension in your chest began to ease, replaced by the quiet comfort of having him near. His hand rested lightly on yours, a grounding presence that kept the dark thoughts at bay. “Get some sleep,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper, the exhaustion in it betraying his own need for rest. You nodded, your eyes drifting closed as his steady breathing filled the room, and for the first time in weeks, you felt a fragile sense of safety begin to take hold.

The soft light of morning filtered through the gaps in the shack’s weathered boards, painting faint golden lines across the floor. As you stirred, the faint ache of exhaustion still lingered in your body, but the overwhelming heaviness of the previous night had begun to lift. Turning your head, you spotted Arthur slouched in a wooden chair near the bed, his long legs stretched out in front of him, his arms crossed over his chest. His head was tilted slightly to the side, and despite the awkward position, he seemed to be fast asleep, his face relaxed in a way you hadn’t seen in weeks.

A warmth bloomed in your chest as you watched him, the sight of him staying by your side all night melting away the residual anxiety that had haunted you. He hadn’t left, even though he had every reason to. The slight rise and fall of his chest, the soft sound of his breathing—it all grounded you in a quiet, fragile peace you hadn’t felt in what felt like forever. You sat up slowly, not wanting to disturb him, but the creak of the cot under your weight made his eyes flutter open. Blinking groggily, he shifted slightly and looked at you, his voice rough with sleep as he murmured, “Mornin’, darlin’.”

You nodded, a faint smile tugging at your lips as you met his tired gaze. “You didn’t have to stay,” you said softly, your voice still hushed from the morning quiet, though there was a warmth in your tone you couldn’t quite hide.

Arthur rubbed the back of his neck, his brow furrowing as he sat up straighter in the chair. “Figured you might need someone around,” he muttered, his voice gravelly but carrying a hint of that familiar gruff affection. “Didn’t seem right, leavin’ you after all that.”

Your smile grew a little, and you tilted your head, watching him as he stretched, his muscles stiff from the awkward position he’d slept in. “Still, you’ve been through hell. You didn’t owe me that,” you replied gently.

Arthur shrugged, his eyes meeting yours again, softer now. “Didn’t feel like I owed it,” he said simply, a faint, tired smirk tugging at his lips. “Just felt like the right thing to do.”

You looked away briefly, heat rising to your cheeks as his words lingered in the space between you. “Well,” you murmured, glancing back at him, “thank you… for everything.”

He gave a small nod, his gaze steady but warm. “Anytime,” he said quietly, leaning forward as he rested his forearms on his knees, the moment settling between you like a fragile truce.

Arthur let out a long sigh as he ran a hand through his too-long hair, his tired eyes fixed on the floor. “Let me go talk to Dutch, see if I can get him to focus on somethin’ that actually matters for once. John’s done too much for this damn gang to be left rottin’ in a cell.” He glanced up at you then, his expression softening despite the weight in his voice. “It ain’t gonna be easy, though. You know how Dutch is—he’ll want it to fit into some grand plan of his own.” His tone carried the quiet determination of a man who had seen too much but still refused to let go of what little hope remained.

You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but Arthur seemed different now. The man who once spoke about the gang’s loyalty and Dutch’s vision as if they were gospel now carried an air of quiet skepticism. His shoulders, though broad and strong as ever, seemed weighed down by something heavier than exhaustion—a kind of disillusionment you hadn’t seen in him before. There was a tiredness in his eyes, not just from lack of sleep but from seeing too much, knowing too much. And yet, that same sense of strength and resolve remained, a spark of who he was, but tempered now by an understanding that things had to change.

You grabbed his hand tightly, your grip firm as if to anchor yourself in the moment, and your voice trembled with gratitude. “Thank you, Arthur—thank you for not giving up on him,” you said, the words spilling out in a rush.

Arthur gave a small nod, his gaze steady but distant, before rising from his seat and heading for the door. As the shack’s wooden door creaked shut behind him, a faint glimmer of hope stirred in your chest, fragile but undeniable, as you clung to the thought that maybe, just maybe, things could turn around.

The chaos at Lakay had been nothing short of a nightmare. The Pinkertons had descended on the swamp like a storm, gunfire echoing through the murky night as the gang fought to hold them off. By the time it was over, the once-crumbling camp had been completely abandoned, supplies scattered and spirits broken. The gang moved north in a frantic retreat, the chill of the approaching mountains biting at their heels as they set up a rough, makeshift camp at Beaver Hollow. The air at the new hideout was thick with tension, the gang fractured and on edge, their collective grief and frustration palpable in every hushed conversation and distant glare. You had barely settled before slipping away, the weight of everything driving you into the woods to hunt, the repetitive task the only thing keeping your racing thoughts at bay. The cold morning air bit at your cheeks, and each breath escaped your lips in soft, misty plumes that hung briefly before disappearing into the gray dawn.

It was there, among the trees and damp leaves, that Arthur found you, his broad figure cutting a familiar silhouette against the faint sunlight filtering through the canopy. His approach was slow, his boots crunching softly on the forest floor, and you didn’t look up until he was standing a few paces away. “Dutch doesn’t want anyone goin’ after John,” he said flatly, his voice carrying a weight that made your stomach twist. He paused, his hands resting on his belt as his gaze lingered on you. “Says it’s too risky, that we’ve got bigger problems right now.” There was frustration in his tone, but also a thread of resignation, as if he’d already fought this battle and lost.

You turned to face him fully, your bow slipping from your grasp as his words hit you like a blow. “Arthur, no,” you said softly, shaking your head, your voice trembling as desperation clawed its way to the surface. “We can’t just leave him there—Dutch can’t just decide that.” You took a step closer, your hands clenched into fists at your sides as tears threatened to spill. “Please, Arthur, you’ve got to help me. You and Sadie—you know where he is. We can get him out.”

His jaw tightened as he averted his gaze, clearly torn, but the conflict in his expression only made you press harder. “I can’t do this without you,” you added, your voice softer now, pleading. “John doesn’t deserve to be left to rot while Dutch spins his schemes. Please.”

Arthur sighed deeply, his shoulders slumping slightly as he shifted his weight. His hand lifted to rub the back of his neck, his tired eyes finally meeting yours. “It ain’t that simple,” he said quietly, though his voice lacked conviction, as if he were trying to convince himself as much as you. “Dutch… he’s diggin’ in his heels, and things are already fallin’ apart. If I go against him—if we go against him—it’ll only make things worse.” His words were heavy, but you could see the cracks in his resolve, the way his fingers curled slightly at his sides as if grasping for a solution he couldn’t quite reach.

You stepped closer, your voice firm and trembling with frustration. “If you won’t go, I will,” you said, the words rushing out before you could stop them. Arthur’s head snapped up, his jaw tightening as his tired eyes bore into yours. “Don’t,” he said sharply, his voice low but carrying a weight that made your breath hitch. He took a step toward you, his broad figure looming as he softened his tone, though it remained firm. “You know I can’t have you goin’. You’ll get yourself killed before you even get close to that damn place.” His voice broke slightly, the faintest edge of worry cutting through his words. “And I… I wouldn’t be able to live with that.”

The intensity in his gaze left you momentarily speechless, your hands curling into fists at your sides as his words hung between you. “Then what, Arthur?” you finally asked, your voice trembling. “What do we do? Because I can’t just sit here and do nothing.”

Arthur let out another sigh, his shoulders sagging as he looked away, clearly conflicted. “I’ll help you,” he said finally, his voice quieter but laced with determination. “But we’re gonna do this smart, not reckless. I ain’t about to lose you over this, y’hear?” His words carried a weight that settled deep in your chest, but there was a flicker of relief, of hope, as he added, “We’ll figure somethin’ out.”

You let out a shaky breath, your voice breaking as you whispered, “Thank you, Arthur. Please… bring him back to me.”

Arthur looked at you for a long moment, his tired eyes softening, though the hint of a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “You’re lucky I’m in love with you, girl,” he muttered, his voice low but laced with that familiar gruff affection.

The words hit you like a quiet storm, leaving your chest tight as you stepped closer. Without thinking, you leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, the rough stubble brushing against your lips. “Thank you,” you murmured again, your voice filled with gratitude, as his smirk faded into something more tender.

A faint blush crept up Arthur’s face, his usual composure faltering as he glanced away, the stubble on his cheek still warm where your lips had touched. You watched as Arthur disappeared into the woods, his broad shoulders framed by the stark trees, each step carrying him further into the misty morning. A tangle of emotions swirled in your chest—gratitude for his willingness to help, guilt for asking so much of him, and a quiet, confusing ache that lingered from the soft blush on his face when you kissed his cheek.

꧁✰꧂꧁✰꧂꧁✰꧂꧁✰꧂꧁✰꧂꧁✰꧂꧁✰

tag list: @photo1030

50 notes · View notes

fangsandfracturedhearts · 6 months ago

Text

Fangs and Fractured Hearts

Chapter 20: I Forgive You

Summary: After embracing eternity as a vampire spawn under Astarion's wing, the Crimson Palace becomes a haunting symbol of the man he once was. As his personality unravels into a dark abyss, you flee. A year of hardship unveils the harsh reality of existence as a vampire spawn.

Just as all hope seems lost, a twist of fate reunites you with Astarion, revealing a glimmer of hope amidst the shadows. As you navigate the complexities of your relationship, you must confront the unsettling truth behind the Rite of Profane Ascension and the devilish secrets it holds.

In a race against time, you embark on a daring quest to save Astarion from his descent into darkness. With each choice you make, the stakes grow higher, testing the limits of your courage and determination.

Will Astarion find redemption, or is he destined to succumb to his own inner turmoil?

Word Count: 6.1k

Pairing: Ascended Astarion x female!Tav Spawn

Warnings: [Will try to continue to add more, but in general expect explicit content for mature audiences]

Possible spoilers. Eventual Explicit Content. Slow Burn. Thoughts of Suicide. Violence. Blood. Injury. Mature Content. Self-Harm. Mentions of in-game content. Completely fabricated camp events. Mentions of Astarion's Trauma.

If you notice a very critical tag missing, please don't hesitate to let me know

Rating: Explicit 18+ - [Meant For Mature Audience]

You drink, drink, drink.

Deeply. Greedily. Exuberantly.

The spluttering sounds vaguely tickle your ears. They push you closer to the edge of feral hysteria, where logic and reason cease to exist, and all that’s left is an impulsive drive to kill and consume. If the prey can sputter, it has more lifeblood to give. You bite down harder. Legs thrash, thudding against the ground and echoing off the walls. Hands and fingers claw at your skin and tug at your clothes, but you are too far gone to care or register the increasingly weakening calls of your name.

You are an animal.

A creature.

A monster.

You will drink until there is not a drop left, then perhaps you will find something else to drink because you are so tired of the maddening pain of being hollow and hungry. The thirst is unquenchable and relentless. If you could get it to stop, even just for a little while, maybe you could think clearly.

There is so much relief that comes as the creamy, coppery tide spills into your stomach. The aching kinks in your muscles that made your toes curl and your fingers rheumatic unsnarl, the vicelike grip of raw hunger relinquishes its agonizing hold on your stomach, and the gauzy film that has been muddling your thoughts starts to lift.

It feels resplendent.

As the blood lights up every neural pathway in your brain, you revel in the sensation of being reunited with your long-lost life. It’s all too easy to tune out the battering against your chest, the fingernails that gouge at your skin, and the pleas that fall mute in your ears.

You want to live, and nothing fills you with vitality like the radiant syrup that’s pulsing within the veins and vessels of living creatures.

The resistance is failing now; fingers fumble at your clothes with less and less vigour. The blood that once spurted into your mouth like a fountain with every heartbeat is coming slower, only seeping like a babbling brook instead of a raging river.

It irritates you because you’re still not satisfied. Is there enough blood in the whole of the world to quell your appetite?

No.

Nothing will ever be enough.

“Stop.”

The directive slices through your body like an axe through flesh, poaching your control and handing it away without a fight. You cannot even swallow the blood in your mouth, and it drools out from between your lips and down your chin.

“Stand and back away.”

You stand as if there are strings attached to your limbs, pulling you up and forcing you to take stiff steps backward like a puppet.

“Kneel.”

This time the command is not silent but in Astarion’s voice, making your ears quiver. Your knees fold in on themselves and hit the stone hard beside the cage door. The red miasma begins to clear from your mind, and your vision pulses back into focus as your bloodlust fades. In an instant, you’re all too aware of the gore dripping from your chin and the red slickness coating your hands and forearms.

You’re dragged back into a harsh reality. Your clothes are sodden, sticky, and clinging to your body. Your arms are in shreds, full of valley-like gouges, and your mind clears enough to fully comprehend what you’ve done. Tears sting the back of your eyes like hot knives, but you do not have the authorization to shed them.

Shadowheart lies motionless on the floor, her skin ghostly, and her eyes glassy and corpse-like. Her chest jumps erratically, and her heartbeat is barely audible.

“Illyria,” Astarion says in a voice like warm honey. “Look at me.”

Your neck twists without your consent, the binds of compulsion holding fast. When your eyes fall on Astarion, he’s as close to the door as he can possibly get while restrained. In the dimness of the enclosed cell, you cannot work out which version of him you’re looking at.

“Is it you?” You ask, though it is a terribly stupid question. He will say anything to be set free.

“It’s me, sweetheart,” he nods, and you feel the connection invite you once again. You yearn to allow it to open and flood you, but you refuse, afraid that this is a trick. Astarion’s mouth downturns slightly at the rejection. “If I let you go, will you be able to control yourself? Shadowheart needs help quickly.”

“No!” You shout. If you get close to her, you know you will not be able to resist the crimson that still seeps from the wounds in her neck. “No. Don’t.”

“Then I need you to let me out of here so I can help her.”

It’s a risk, but Shadowheart is fading quickly. If you let him out, and it’s the wrong him, you both die, but if you don’t let him out at all, she dies regardless. There’s only one way you can know for sure.

You reach out to the kinship, and it emanates through you like a sunbeam spreading warmth through a crystal prism, illuminating every facet of your being. You are sculpted from the same celestial clay, falling into each other with an unspoken harmony that only the two of you know.

After so long without it, the rush of the coalescence of your two beings becoming one borders on overwhelming. It takes your body and mind a moment to assimilate the new sensations, like an agitated lake that ever-so-slowly returns to its placid state.

He’s finally back.

You whisper the password to dispel the Arcane Lock, and the light blue barrier shimmers and fades.

“Get the keys for the locks and unlock my restraints,” he commands.

Your body complies, getting up stiffly, moving out into the hallway past Shadowheart's unconscious body, and into the desk where you stashed the keys. You move robotically as you unlock the cell and then the padlocks. When the silver manacles pop open, Astarion winces and rubs his wrists.

“Get out of the cell, and don’t move,” Astarion instructs.

He’s long gone, moving faster than your eyes can perceive, before you can even take the three steps it takes to vacate the cell. You stand, still as a statue, staring at the rough grey bricks that make up the walls of the kennels. Shadowheart’s increasingly slowing heartbeat and ragged breaths are barely discernible under the whir of her blood running through your veins.

“I’m so sorry. Gods. I’m so fucking sorry, Shadowheart.”

Astarion returns faster than you thought possible. He drops to his knees by Shadowheart, pulls her into his lap, and uncorks what you recognize as a Supreme Potion of Healing, pouring it into her mouth a little at a time so she can swallow.

The colour starts to return to Shadowheart’s skin slowly, and her heart beats stronger with every concurrent pulse. She coughs, sputtering wetly, and groans in Astarion’s arms. When her eyes crack open, she jerks away from him and falls limply to the floor with wide, scared eyes.

“It’s me.” Astarion holds up his hands innocently and backs away from her sharp glower. He uses his foot to nudge another Potion of Healing her way.

Shadowheart grabs it with frail fingers, trying to uncork it with her teeth, but her muscles are still too weak. She scoffs when she has to hand the bottle to Astarion to open for her.

Her whole body shakes with the shock of blood loss as she pushes herself up, using the wall at her back as a brace. “Is it him?”

“Yes,” you confirm. “If it wasn’t, we would both likely be dead already.”

Astarion looks around the kennels dismally with glances that dart in all directions, as if he thinks Cazador might saunter in at any moment. A tic works in his jaw, and his forehead puckers. You can feel the fear in him as it emanates through the bond.

“What have you done to her?” Shadowheart mumbles weakly, nodding toward you.

“I compelled her.” Astarion stares at the cage with ruby-red eyes, a monument to suffering and woe.

“Well, stop,” Shadowheart snaps in your defence.

“No. It’s okay, Shadowheart. I’ve asked him to do this.” You say, hauntingly calm. “Can you walk her home, Astarion?”

“Huh?” His eyes finally focus on you, but he looks a million miles away. “Yes, but what about you?”

He offers Shadowheart a hand. She takes it tentatively, and he pulls her to her feet and steadies her. She bats his hands away defiantly with a scowl, and he rolls his eyes at her obstinacy.

You’re covered head to toe in dried blood and can’t go walking through the city in such a state, but there is a fix for that. “Compel me to cast invisibility and return to the manor. I want to go home.”

“I—” Astarion closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “Cast invisibility on yourself and go to the manor. Once you are there, tell me, and I will rescind the compulsion.”

“Astarion, wait.” He turns, and you nod toward the navy shroud. “I want to take that, but I need you to tell me to.”

Astarion glances at it and looks almost embarrassed. Your orders change without him needing to even say anything. You bend down, pick up the threadbare fabric, and start your invisible march toward home.

Astarion rescinds the compulsion over you instantly when you enter the manor. It’s dark inside, and the air harbours an unpleasant stagnancy, as if it stopped circulating the moment no one was here. You stare at your hands in horror, dried blood and skin under your fingernails.

You rush to the bedroom. Water gushes out of the tap into the basin, and you scrub your hands vigorously until they are red, bleeding, and you’re sloughing off your own skin, trying to replace her blood with your own. Your hands shake when you look at them. It’s not enough; you can still feel the warmth and slickness of her blood like a stain.

You scream in sheer loathing, a jarring, crestfallen sound that penetrates the cumbersome silence of the manor. If only you could cease existing like this stupid mirror declares with your lack of reflection.

You peel your soiled clothing off as quickly as you can, throwing it into the fireplace and incinerating the evidence of your sin, but nothing will erase what you’ve done.

If you cut yourself open and let her blood drain out of you, would you feel better then?

Climbing into the bath, you turn on the water until it’s scalding, curl up into a ball in the corner, your legs hugging tightly to your chest, and sob. The stinging of the water lapping at your maimed back hits like an avalanche and brings more tears to your eyes. You grit your teeth and focus on feeling the pain because you deserve this, don’t you?

Maybe Astarion was right when he said you deserved everything he did to you. It was you who led him down this path — you who lent him your eyes so he could carve up Cazador and usurp the Rite. The only reason you ever regretted it was because you lost him. You tell yourself that you should feel guilty over the thousands of souls you damned for love, but truthfully, they would not even cross your mind if not for the consequences.

Who were they to you?

Nobodies, and they remain faceless nobodies.

The weight of what you’ve agreed to descends on your shoulders like the burden of a planet now that your mind isn’t addled with hunger and exhaustion. How are you going to tell Astarion?

Oh, it’s nothing, my love. I just put my soul on the line, agreed to kill an archdevil, and now have control of hellfire that could kill me if I actually put it to use. But good news! If we can pull it off, you can keep your power and your sanity.

Good Gods.

The only illumination in the room when Astarion enters is the orbs of fire circling your head in the shape of soaring dragons. They swoop and arc in an ever-changing formation. Your eyes snap to him, and you send the orbs soaring back to relight the candles and fire.

Astarion looks more bone-weary than you ever remember seeing him, with dark circles under his eyes and ruddy, blistered wrists. He strips his dirty shirt off, tossing it to the floor with unusual carelessness.

“How long this time?” Astarion asks, standing near the fire with his hand braced on the wall.

“A week, give or take a day or two.”

“Gods.” Astarion rubs his bloodshot, tired eyes and glances at his wrists. “Silver is still effective, hm? Good to know, I suppose,” he muses. He points at the bath. “May I?”

You gesture toward the water flippantly, and he undresses and wades in. A quiet, awkward silence hangs over the two of you for some time.

“What happened?” He finally asks, his eyes bleeding with sorrow and shame. He smooths his wet hair back. “I mean, I know what happened, but after I lost.”

“I led you to the palace, the kennels... I’m sorry. I didn’t know what else to do.”

“Don’t be. You did what you had to do. That cage… I put that in there, didn’t I? I saw it when I came back, but... Why did I do it?”

“I think you can probably guess why he did that,” you sigh, combing your fingers through your hair. “Can we not do this tonight?”

“Yes. Of course.” Astarion nods. “Can you pass me the soap?”

You turn to grab the soap bar, but his pained, breathy gasp makes your eyes jerk toward him. Shit. You turned your back to him, and now his eyes are moored to whatever it was he sliced into you. You suppose he was going to see it one way or another, but you meant to save him this pain until it was at least a little further healed.

“Fuck.” He sobs, tears spilling from his eyes, and his hand is poised at his mouth. “By the Gods, Illyria. I don’t know what to say. I— Gods. What have I fucking done? What is wrong with me? I do not want to be that person. I do not want to hurt you.”

“I know,” you murmur, too tired to even cry at this point.

“Do you hate me?” He asks, his voice so small and so pained that it’s like a vice around your heart. “I—I’m a monster.”

If nothing else, the stark contrast between the two sides of him makes it relatively easy to separate and compartmentalize the two. In your perspective, they remain too separate people. You would be lying if you said you were not a little frightened of those hands that held that dagger like a chisel; the hands that scored your flesh with Gods knows what.

But when you look into his eyes, you remember that this man has spent centuries having his body taken over and used as a pawn, just as it is now. You never blamed him for the atrocities he committed under Cazador’s rule, and you cannot bring yourself to blame him for the actions of another wearing his skin.

“I don’t hate you, Astarion.” You take slow steps toward him. He looks confused for a moment, his eyes wide as saucers. “I just want to save what’s left of you while we still can. May I?” You nod your head toward his lap.

He nearly lurches forward to grab you, but you’ve been feeling that longing in him the whole time — the desperate need to hold and be held. Astarion catches himself, sits back down, and outstretches his arms. Crawling into his lap, he’s cautious not to touch your wounds, and you lean into him with your head pressed under his chin, safe at last.

“I didn’t think you would want to be close to me after what happened.” Astarion’s voice is as knotted with emotion as you’ve ever heard it. He takes your hand, bringing it up from the water, and his fingers trace the band of the ring. “I didn’t think you would want to be with me at all.”

“Does everyone think me so exceptionally fragile?” You bring your head up to look at him. He still has tears welling in his swollen eyes, falling occasionally down his cheeks. You wipe them away with the back of your index finger. “I never once judged you or was scared of you because of the things Cazador forced you to do. This is much the same for me. It may have been your hands, but it wasn’t you.”

“I don’t deserve your forgiveness,” he murmurs. “I do not deserve you.”

“That’s enough, Astarion. You deserve it all. Happiness, comfort, to live, and love. We both deserve all those things,” you remind him. You take his face in your hands. “I love you because I just fucking love you. The moment you tossed me into the dirt and looked into my eyes, I loved you, and every moment since, even when it was painful to love you, I loved you still. I love you so much that it’s terrifying, because I know there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. I love you, only you, now and forevermore, and you deserve to be loved like that. Alright?”

A small smile breaks through his beautiful lips, and he takes your hand, kissing your palm and interlocking your fingers. “Thank you. Y— You still want to marry me, yes?”

You huff in exasperation. “I just finished telling you that I will love you forever, and that’s your question? Obviously. You promised me eternity, Astarion, and I’ve never known you to be a liar.”

“Well, in that case,” Astarion swallows and takes a big breath. “If you’ll indulge me, I would like to marry you before we descend into the Hells and likely get ourselves killed.”

“You’re agreeing to go to the Hells with me?” Your mouth drops open. “Truly?”

“Mhm.” Astarion nods. “I will go along with your insane little plan on the condition that you marry me before we leave. If we are to die down there, I would at least like to die as husband and wife.”

Do you tell him? He’s agreeing to go to the Hells, but he doesn’t have the whole story any longer. If you’re going to tell him, now is your chance, but you just got him back, and it didn’t go well for you last time. No. You’ll have to tell him eventually, but right now, you just can’t bring yourself to utter the words. You lock all thoughts, all memories, and everything else away behind the guard that will keep Astarion from seeing it through your connection, as long as you’re careful.

“Can it just be you and I?”

Astarion’s brows furrow. “You don’t want all our friends there? Drinks? Dancing? A grand soiree?”

You've never been the kind of woman who fantasized about a big, extravagant wedding and a white ballgown—let alone one at all. In fact, the idea of having all those beating hearts and insincere congratulatory smiles sounds awful.

“If you want that, I understand, and we can, but we could have all of that when we get back from the Hells alive with you safe.”

Astarion glances away, looking blankly at the water. “Are you embarrassed of me?”

“Astarion. No. Don’t be foolish. If anything, I don’t want all those people to see you looking so positively mouthwatering. You might have to compel me not to eat everyone in attendance.”

“I do look rather dashing in a suit, do I not?” He chuckles. “I think I would rather enjoy an intimate affair.”

You comb his wet hair back and out of his eyes. “Me too.”

“Your wounds need to be cleaned.” Astarion murmurs, making you twist slightly so he can get a look at them. Every time he sees them, the emotional link between you is inundated so heavily with regret and despair that it actually feels like it weighs your mind down. “They aren’t healing well.”

“Is that an offer to help, or are you just stating the obvious?” You tease, trying to get him to lighten up.

“How can you be so casual about this?” Astarion snaps, unable to conceal his own outrage. His anger is not so much at the flippant ease with which you have shrugged this off; it’s at himself for doing it in the first place. “How can you so easily just forgive me and move on after I did this to you? You should hate me. You should be terrified of me.

“Why?” You retort coldly. Patience is wearing thin here. You do not have time, nor do you care to lament on your skin. It will heal, and what’s done is done. Where will being angry or sad over it get you? Nowhere, so what’s the point? If you want to grieve it, you have an eternity to do it later, so why is he being so insistent on this? “Would it make you feel better about it if I punished you for it? Is that what you’re looking for, Astarion?”

“Yes.” His voice is full of desperation. He takes your arms, almost shaking you, but it’s just his entire body that’s trembling violently. “Punish me. Hit me. Burn me. Stab me. I don’t fucking care, but do something.”

Straddling him, you take your face in his hands, sweeping your thumb over his cheek, dip your head, and kiss him tenderly. “I forgive you.”

Moonlight courses through the windows of their bedroom, casting a spectral-like glow across the floors and furniture. Though he is exhausted physically and mentally, he cannot seem to fall into his trance. He fears that if he lets his mind rest, it will not be him who she wakes up to.

Illyria trances peacefully beside him, though in an awkward position on her side so as not to touch the half-healed portrait of his cruelty that will be etched into her skin for eternity. Even now, those wounds still seep, dotting her shirt with little pinpoints of blood.

How could he do that to her? How could any version of him want to do that to her?

Astarion doesn’t want to wake her. She is more exhausted than even him, so he moves stealthily out of bed to go pace the halls of the manor, where he can hopefully work out some of this restlessness.

Coming back to himself in that cage had been a chilling experience, with the sting of silver wrapped around his wrists and sapping his strength. He’d recognized the smell of the room right away, even under the smell of Shadowheart and Illyria’s blood. For a moment, he was sure Cazador was going to enter and make him pay for usurping the Rite. He almost didn’t pull himself together quickly enough to save the Cleric.

The horror that he would take Cazador’s torments and mimic them makes his stomach churn, and he stymies the dry heaving. Is what’s left of his soul really all that stands between him and that vile version of him? Could he be worse than Cazador? Would he be?

He hates that the answer to that is yes.

Astarion leans his forearm on the wall, looking out the window absently, while his mind revolves in a spiral of unsettling thoughts. He’s agreed to go to the Hells with her. Truthfully, he feels he has little choice. It’s either this or become what he spent centuries loathing and killing or enslaving the one person he’s ever truly cared for.

If she were not at risk, he might just let himself go and accept the consequences of his actions. Two centuries of fighting to survive, only to gain his freedom and have to fight to survive again.

He is tired of fighting for his life.

If it comes down to it, will he renounce the powers the Rite has gifted him? Could he say goodbye to the sun and hello again to the pain of hunger and darkness?

If it means never hurting her like that again, he has no choice.

“Astarion?” Her voice makes him jump and whirl. She’s gotten good at sneaking up on him, and he finds himself proud of his little bride. Half of her face is hidden by shadows, and the other half is illuminated by moonlight. She yawns adorably. “Are you okay?”

“But of course, my love.” He declares and offers her a quick, easy smile that he hopes will appease her worries.

She cants her head at him with a lopsided grin. “Come on, Astarion. What’s troubling you?”

“Am I truly that easy to read, sweetheart?” She would see through any disguise he tried to decorate himself with.

She pads over to him, her nightdress swaying about her upper thighs, and taps on his temple. “You can’t exactly hide it from me, Astarion.”

“Ah,” he says, smiling slightly. “I suppose not.”

Illyria leans into him with her hand splayed across his bare chest, peeking up at him through thick lashes. “What’s bothering you?”

He wraps his arm around her shoulders, being careful with her back, and kisses the top of her head. “I’m just restless. Sitting in a cage for a week will do that to a man.”

“Restless, are you?” She raises an eyebrow, the beautiful cracked crimson of her eyes shimmering like polished gems. Her hand starts to wander around his body. Gentle, tentative touches to see how he will react. “I could think of a few things that might help relieve that restlessness.”

His body responds to her proximity, the way she leans her soothing weight into him, and those tender touches. The blood rushes to his cock.

Astarion’s shock is evident in the way his brows try to climb his forehead. “Surely, you’re not suggesting?”

“Sex, Astarion.” She laughs, shaking her head. “I’m suggesting sex, but if you’re not feeling up for it, you only have to say the word. You know that, right?”

“I know.” He leans down, hooking her chin with his index finger and guiding her eyes up. He needs to make sure she actually wants this, because he cannot fathom how she could after what he did to her. “It’s not me I’m worried about.”

She grins mischievously, pushing him, forcing him to take steps backward until the back of his legs hit the settee, and then she shoves him hard. He could easily have stayed on his feet, but he lets her push him around. Illyria climbs atop him, straddling him.

He grasps her hips as her weight settles on him. Astarion’s hips hitch up involuntary, pressing his length into her with a grunt. She grinds against him, eliciting a gravelly moan from him.

Gods. She really still does love him, doesn't she? Even after everything he’s done to her, including all the things he did that he cannot even remember, she still wants him.

Illyria rolls her hips slowly over his cock, spreading her slick desire along his length and seeking out her own pleasure. It doesn’t bother him. In fact, he quite enjoys watching her like this; her eyes are heavily lidded and sensual, moaning when her clit drags across his cock.

She runs her fingers through his hair and down the ridge of his ear, which never fails to drive him fucking mad. A breathy hiss is expelled from his lungs, and he grabs her hips and forces them to sink further with a growl.

“You’re truly okay?” He asks breathily, the yearning starting to overtake his self-control. “With me? With us?”

“I’m really okay,” she smiles, leaning down to kiss him with such sweet devouring that he’s not sure what to do with his hands or where to touch because he wants all of her.

He can’t resist anymore, and his fingers curl into her hair, and he kisses her back with the same fervour. His heart begins to pound, and the sensation of the slick of her folds still stroking him sends another thrill down his spine. He helps her carefully take off the nightdress and throws it aside before their lips crash together again.

Illyria reaches down, stroking his soaked length, lifting her hips, and slipping the swollen, pink head of his cock in and out shallowly. She keeps him at the cusp of her entrance, teasing him until he’s whimpering, trying to grab her hips and shove them down.

“Ah-ah,” she tuts. “Eager, aren’t you?”

He can feel her wetness dripping down his shaft, further driving him mad. “Love,” he hisses. “Sit on my cock, or I swear-"

Astarion feels himself sink to the hilt in one rapid move, the sudden tightness around him bringing forth a surge of pleasure, making his head fall back and blanking his brain. “Gods. You’re so fucking perfect.”

His hips begin to roll, fucking her gently in a rocking motion. She squeezes him as he increases the pace of his thrusts, hands on her hips, making sure the angle is perfect to drag himself against her ridges and hit her spot.

She meets his thrusts, grinding to match his pace with her hand pressed against his chest over his heart. His eyes rake over every inch of her, the scars on her neck that mark her as his, the curve of her waist, and the lines of muscles that ripple beneath her skin as they flex with every move. She is the most breathtaking thing to ever walk this earth, and she’s all his, and he’s all hers. Now and forevermore.

“Fuck, Astarion,” she whimpers, and she looks at him open-mouthed and adoring.

Astarion’s hand drifts down her chest, running down her belly, and moves between her legs, finding her clit. He rubs slow circles around the border of the sensitive flesh, which instantly rewards him with a whimper, and her cunt tightens around him to the point it’s borderline painful.

“Do you love me?” He murmurs uncertainly and is desperate for reassurance. She is the only thing that burns in the darkness he gets lost in. She completes parts of him that are raw and sharp, her softness and fluidity rooted inside him, and she soothes that latent beast.

Her eyes open abruptly, likely feeling his unease in their bond. He doesn’t try to hide it anymore. She takes his face in her hands. “I’ve loved you since I met you, and nothing will ever change that. I will love you for eternity and well beyond,” she says in breathy pants.

His cock throbs inside her the moment she says those words, his breath catching in his throat. Astarion will never tire of hearing that beautiful hymn in his ears. A whimper leaves his lips.

She smiles — one of those smiles she only saves for him — unashamed of her fangs and kisses his cheek. Her hips increase their pace, and his thoughts scatter completely. He moans loudly, his hips jittering here and there as the tension starts to coil in his belly.

The rhythm at which she lifts and slides back down around him grows increasingly intense, and with it comes his own desire to chase his climax and empty himself into her. At this rate, he will not make it.

“I’d like to try something. I’ll need to take us back upstairs to bed.”

She slows, cocking her head at him. “I’m intrigued. Lead on.”

Astarion moves slowly, grabbing under her thighs and letting her wrap her arms around his neck. He effortlessly carries her back to their room.

He lays down on the bed, patting his chest. “Lay down on me and allow me to please you, yes? I will be cautious of your back.”

Illyria leans forward with no hesitation, kissing his chest and brushing her soft lips against him. He manages to find a way to hold her in a one-armed embrace that avoids what he’s done to her.

“If it gets too much, tell me,” he purrs.

With his feet firmly planted flat on the bed, Astarion begins to pulse his hips up into her, intensifying his pace incrementally until he’s snapping his hips hard and fast. His pulse races from the effort. His fingers work in harmony, sweeping and gliding in the way that makes her see stars.

“ Shit. Astarion,” she gasps, her body limp in his arms, engulfed totally in his ministrations. “Y-You. H-Hells. S-so good.”

Gods. He can feel her pleasure through the bond, and it only amplifies his. “I—I love you,” he whispers to her.

Astarion continues his upward pistoning until his own climax threatens to overpower him, and he has to bite his lower lip to keep his composure. It doesn’t work. He stills for a moment, taking deep breaths and trying to focus on anything else. His cock is throbbing, begging for him to resume. When he opens his eyes, they meet Illyria’s, her breathing shattered, her knowing smile understanding why he needed a break.

She bites her wrist and brings it to his lips. “We wouldn’t want it to go to waste, would we?”

He laps at her with a low growl and then begins sucking, resuming his thrusting, hammering into her mercilessly. Astarion feels her orgasm near. Her fingers curl into his chest, her body tenses and trembling in his arms, her breathing uneven.

Hells below. Her blood in his mouth is an ambrosial divinity he will cherish until the end of time. The sensation of his cock stretching her, the ridges of his head dragging over her walls, and her sex increasingly tightening around him is going to throw him over the edge before her.

With a quick twerk of his hips, he changes the angle just slightly so that he’s more in line with the sensitive bundle of nerves inside her. The way she cries out with each strike lets him know he’s aligned himself just right.

A couple more powerful pumps, and Illyria comes, crying out loudly. Her body shudders, her back arching, and she slows his pace to drag out the remaining aftershocks of ecstasy. He revels in the feeling of her walls squeezing and clenching him, almost too much.

He relinquishes her wrist and rains small kisses on the top of her head and forehead. He rubs her arm until she quiets. She looks up at him, confused. “You didn’t come. Why?”

His cock is still buried in her, throbbing and switching insistently. He smiles down at her softly. “I’m right behind you, little love. I wanted to make sure you were done. Kiss me, will you?”

She shifts, moulding her lips to his. His hand cups her cheek, and he once again begins pounding into her dripping cunt, driving himself into her fast and deep. It’s not long before his own climax consumes him, and he comes with a series of low growls and grunts. His eyes shut, his hips stuttering out of tempo as he spills inside her in an intense wave of pleasure.

When his brain starts to function again, he finds her stroking his sweat-damp hair back with tired but adoring eyes. He glances at her back to make sure he didn’t harm her further, but it looks, well, terrible, but no worse than before.

“I’m glad you’re back,” she says softly with a yawn. “I missed you quite terribly.” She taps his temple. “Missed this. I feel... incomplete somehow without you now.”

“Did you miss me or the sex?” He teases lightheartedly.

She shrugs and taunts him back. “Both, I suppose. The sex is fantastic, after all.”

“So you enjoyed that?” Astarion asks.

There are wisps of doubt niggling his mind. Was I too rough with her after what I did? Would it remind her of being held down? What if I frightened her?

“I did, very much. You weren’t too rough, and you do not scare me.” She smirks at his wide-eyed stare. “And you? Was it okay? You are okay?”

Shit. He sometimes forgets to shield his thoughts.

“Okay?” He scoffs at her capriciously. “Yes, darling. I had to take a break in the middle simply because it was feeling far too okay.”

She thumps him on the chest, and he covers her hand with this. “I missed you, too. I do not know where I go, but wherever I am, I am always trying to get back to you.”

Illyria brushes his cheek with the backs of her fingers. “Are you still restless? You need to sleep, Astarion. I can feel how tired you are. Do not be afraid. I’ve got you.”

He smirks. “If I were, do you think you could be convinced to go another round?”

“I could be persuaded.”

Big thank you for everyone who takes the time to read/reblog/comment, and all the other magnificent things. As with most fic writers, I am a WHORE for comments. We appreciate even just an emoji. Please feed your fic writers the sustenance of comments 🥰

AO3 [Crossposted]

Master List of Chapters: Fangs and Fractured Hearts

If you're interested I write another fic with Spawn Astarion x Tav called - Shadows of the Past

Small Notes:

Do you think she should have told him right away?

What will his reaction be when she does eventually tell me?

Also, who is ready for a cute intimate ceremony

#astarion fanfic #ascended astarion #bg3 fanfiction #astarion x you #astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #bg3 #astarion smut #fangs and fractured hearts #ascendant #astarion bg3 #astarion baldurs gate #astarion bg #astarion ancunin #astarion ascended #astarion x oc #astarion angst

68 notes · View notes

possessiveandobsessive · 1 month ago

Text

Hello again! This is another Rook×Lucanis story, but will be much longer than my last work! I'm not sure how many parts it will be yet as it's not complete, but I will be updating regularly!

***This story will cover the last several chapters of the game, and will be full of spoilers! So don't read if you haven't played the end and don't want to know!***

The Spirit of Determination

Nyra "Rook" Thorne is somehow responsible for the fate of all of Thedas. If she's going to pull it off, she's going to need a hell of a lot of determination. Lucky for her, she knows a guy and his demon who can help her out with that.

Part 1: The Girl with the World on her Shoulders

Fierce green eyes stared back at Rook from Varric’s old shaving mirror. She’d been told many times throughout her life that her eyes were a bit “intense” or “odd”, meaning they freaked people out. Rook’s eyes were an extremely bright green, lighter towards her pupil, and slightly darker at the edge of her iris. This could sometimes make them appear as if they were glowing, but she was no spirit or demon. Her eyes didn’t glow. Her mother, for the short time she was in Rook’s life, had always told her that they reminded her of the fade itself. Rook had no idea as to what her mother meant, until she watched the sky tear itself apart and allowed the Fade to leak slowly into their world ten years ago. To this day she wasn’t sure how her mother had known what color the Fade was, but she really wasn’t far off.

There was nothing particularly special about Rook outside of her freaky eyes and the fact that she was a Grey Warden mage. It would only be fair if that had been the case, but unfortunately, the universe didn’t seem to care about fairness. Not to mention, it turned out her gods were massive dicks.

Rook had relatively pale skin (especially for an elf), with a light smattering of freckles across her cheekbones and nose. She bore the Vallaslin of Mythal on her forehead and temples. It wove into almost a “V” shape, and its coal black ink had it standing out prominently against her skin. Thick dark eyebrows sat on her brow, perfectly matching the pitch black hair on her head. Rook didn’t make a habit of cutting or upkeeping her hair these days. That meant it hung in straight shaggy locks nearly down to her shoulders in the back, and to just shy of her chin in the front. Two short pieces framed her face on either side and she kept the rest tucked behind her pointed ears so she could see her enemies as she fought. Several long thin scars marred her pale skin around her eyes and cheeks. The dark bags under her eyes did not help with the overall unkempt look of the woman in the mirror.

I look like shit, Rook thought flatly. Though, I honestly have a pretty good excuse. A whole list of them in fact. She shook her head slightly as if to force the thoughts from her mind. Re-living all that had happened in the last several months was not helpful when trying to relax and formulate a new game plan. Thoughts like these didn’t go away easily.

She had first tried to stop Solas’s ritual only to have that fall apart and release not one, but two evil gods back into the world. Varric was injured in the process as well, all because of decisions she had made.

Then, Rook had been forced to choose between Minrathous and Treviso when the gods’ dragons had attacked both cities at once. She had been worried for a few days that she had lost Neve after Rook chose to go to Treviso instead of Minrathous, but luckily Neve isn’t a quitter, and had returned. Rook didn’t regret her decision, and she’d make it again. The number of casualties in Minrathous often made her feel sick though. Going to Dock Town was difficult.

The next big blow was Weisshaupt. Gods, she thought, so many dead wardens. Our numbers are so few now, how are we supposed to stop a blight and kill two blighted gods? Solas, jackass that he was, had made a point to emphasize the importance of getting the Grey Wardens on her side, and using them to build an army. After the events at Weisshaupt a month ago, they’d be lucky if their current force could defend a small city, let alone the world. Rook was grieving more than just for the blow to her plans for battle against the gods, those had been her fellow Wardens, her brothers and sisters in arms. Only Wardens could truly understand the trials and tribulations that came as a result of joining the order. Only they could know the soft, beckoning melody of the blight.

She wasn’t the only member of the team that suffered in the immediate aftermath of Weisshaupt. Lucanis felt he had failed the team because he was an abomination, and Davrin was grieving the same loss as Rook. He and Lucanis were at each other’s throats for a few weeks as a result, but had finally settled recently as they both worked through their pain.

There were positive things that had happened as well. Rook knew it was important to remember them if she was going to be able to put on a brave face and lead this team. At last, she had finished helping each of The Veilguard (Bellara’s name for the group that had stuck) members to battle their inner demons. Literal demons in Lucanis’s case.

While it was worth it to see her friends grow from their personal battles, Rook was completely run down and exhausted. Now they had to kill the gods before they could finish their dagger during the next eclipse. It felt overwhelming in her current state, but Rook was pretty sure it would feel overwhelming regardless of how much rest she had. These were the gods of her people’s legends, the creators of her people. Somehow, Rook was in charge of killing them now? I’m one elf! Grey Warden or not, those odds suck for me! Rook groaned internally.

Lucanis had been one of the few things keeping her afloat these days. He supported her when and where he could. Lucanis made sure she was eating enough, made sure she was sleeping more than 3 hours every night, and had a way of bringing her smile and laugh to the surface when they were deeply buried under her anxiety and sadness. Rook was tough, she had always had to be, but she was immensely grateful for him. Rook blushed lightly when she remembered the “almost kiss” in Lucanis’s room (pantry), a couple weeks before. That blush got even deeper when she thought about how truly disappointed and distraught she was directly afterward. She had seriously contemplated screaming in Lucanis’s pillow, but she restrained herself.

Even so, Rook understood Lucanis’s hesitation and fears. He had been through so much recently, including coming out of a year of torture with a demon inside him. Then Lucanis’s grandmother and one of two remaining family members died. Then that grandmother was actually alive and the other one of his two living family members (his imbecilic cousin Illario) was discovered to have plotted Lucanis’s murder and his grandmother’s kidnapping/staged murder. And the cherry on top was Lucanis having to be the one to decide his traitor cousin’s fate. He had spared Illario’s life, instead opting to lock him away after Rook suggested it as an alternative. Either way, nearly all Lucanis had experienced in the last 16 months was traumatic in some way. He needs patience and support right now, not your overwhelming desire for him, she berated herself. You know Lucanis cares, he’s shown you that. Just give him time.

Sighing heavily, Rook finally set the mirror down and rubbed her temples. Focus Nyra she chided internally. She really needed to sit down and come up with an immediate plan of action. They didn’t have long until their deadline for killing Elgar’nan and Ghilan’nain, and Rook had very little in the way of an idea of how to do so. Solas wasn't being particularly helpful either. She was glad he had helped them to save the Dalish that Elgar’nan had intended to use as sacrifices, but she still didn’t trust him. There was something in the Dread Wolf's eyes, something that warned her he would betray her eventually. Varric, surprisingly, had also been unhelpful. He kept up with his usual pep talks. “You’re a wild card Rook, they’ll never see you coming” or “They don’t stand a chance against you and the team you’ve built, kid”. She appreciated the support, but this was Varric’s mission… right?

Rook was pulled from her thoughts by a knock at her door. Quirking an eyebrow, she called for whoever it was to come in. Harding tumbled in less than gracefully, looking up at Rook with a small look of embarrassment at her entry.

“Harding? What is it?”

Normally Rook would’ve laughed at Harding’s clumsiness and bashful expression, but she could tell that something was important or urgent

“Morrigan wants you to meet with her at The Cobbled Swan as soon as possible. She says she has some things she wants to discuss with you. Since things are so unpredictable now that the gods are close to finishing their dagger, she said as quickly as possible would be best.”

Harding said all of this in a rush, panting slightly from her run up the stairs to Rook’s bedroom. Rook looked at Harding with a somewhat startled expression, before saying “We should have a month before they can finish it, does she know something we don’t?” Her eyebrows knit together as she frowned, “Nevermind, the answer doesn’t actually matter I suppose. I’ll head out now,” Rooks paused briefly before adding, “On the off chance something is coming faster than we expected, make sure the team is ready to leave at a moment’s notice. We need to be ready for anything right now.”

Harding nodded firmly at Rook and turned to walk out of the room before she stopped, and spoke to Rook over her shoulder, “Be careful Rook. We need you, so don’t do anything dumb.”

Rook let out a surprised bark of laughter at that. She couldn’t really hold that comment against Harding after everything they had been through in the last few months. Rook wasn’t exactly known for having the safest plans, but they always came together at the end! Plus, they were all still alive so she was taking that as a win.

“I will Lace, don’t worry. I know what the stakes are. We have to do whatever it takes though, and that isn’t going to be safe in any version of the future.”

Harding started to turn to look at Rook, but just shook her head and said, “You’re right Rook, we do whatever it takes.” before walking down the hallway and turning to the right, no doubt heading to see Taash.

Rook immediately went to her wardrobe to change into her fighting gear. Nowhere in Thedas was safe these days, especially not for the biggest pain in the blighted gods’ asses. She finished the last buckles on her warden mage armor, and strapped on her blades. One blade was her main weapon that she used in tandem with her magic, and the other was a backup she started wearing after losing her main hand once in battle and nearly being flattened by an ogre because of it. Deciding she was prepared for anything on her journey to Dock Town, Rook walked out of her room and down the stairs towards the Eluvian.

Part 2 Here!

Part 3 here!

DATV Masterlist here!

#dragon age the veilguard #dragon age the veilguard spoilers #datv spoilers #veilguard spoilers #lucanis dellamorte #lucanis x rook #Warden!Rook #Fem!Rook #the spirit of determination

28 notes · View notes

obsessedfics · 1 year ago

Text

Fated Encounter: Gojo Satoru x Reader (SMUT! Mature/Explicit)

Rating: Mature/Explicit (Sexual Scenes)

Summary: You meet a mysterious man in a club, and things quickly become heated. However, you get interrupted before things can go too far. The next day you're in for a surprise when you meet the man again, but he's who you're supposed to build a report on.

Now, if you've read my previous work I like giving a backstory before you get heat. Because my little soft brain loves a good lil romance. NO SPOILERS.

Word count: 17k+

“Y/n where are you? Why can I hardly hear you? What’s with that loud music?” your partner, Kaito, asked quizzically into the phone but you only smiled.

Strobe lights and base-filled music sounded all around you. Hot sticky bodies pressed together, dancing to the beat like no one else in the room existed.

“Oh, well I may be in a club~” you answered cheerily, plopping down on your seat at the bar, leather mini skirt climbing up your thighs.

“Club? Are you crazy? What if something happens to you?” you could hear him sigh, the image of the blonde popping into your head.

A giggle escaped your throat as you brought the speaker close to your gloss-covered lips.

“Kaito, are you implying that I am too weak to protect myself, hm?” though your tone was light, a deadly edge kissed your words.

“I– No. Fine, just don’t do anything stupid. Our mission starts–”

You hung up the phone, happily stuffing it into your purse as you caught the bartender's eye. With a sultry smile, you lowered your lashes while curling your finger, signaling him to come over.

“What can I get you to miss?” the burly man asked, a pleasant smile on his lips while his eyes took in your figure ever so slightly.

Trying to remain professional I see.

Placing your elbows on the black light table, you laced your fingers together and gently rest your chin on them. With the slight cock of your head you smiled.

“A water please,”

The man’s eyes widened. Clearly, he was expecting you to drink alcohol.

“Anything else?”

“Nope, just the water. A woman like me has to stay hydrated.” sending him a wink the male laughed bashfully, quickly grabbing a glass while eyeing you.

“Ice?”

You bit your lip and pretended to think. Enjoying the way a blush crept up on the man’s cheeks.

“Hm, maybe just a little.” you batted your wispy eyelashes externally, while internally you were laughing.

My, you all are such easy creatures.

The man quickly filled your glass with water and handed it to you. He lingered for a moment, then attended to his next customer.

“I think you enjoyed that too much,” a low voice called from your left.

Smiling, you slowly turned your head to find a man with silver hair and a blindfold. He wore a white button-down shirt that tightly clung to his muscles. The first three buttons were undone exposing some of his pale sculpted chest. His hands, which that of his face rested in, were covered in black half gloves.

Interesting style choice.

“And you are?” you drew your words out to sound curious while making your tone purposefully disinterested. You watched as the man's eyebrows rose. Whether it was from surprise or amusement, you didn’t know, due to his eyes being obscured.

“Not important. How bout’ I buy you a drink?” he pulled his full lips into a smirk.

Ah, a womanizer. This will be fun.

“I’ll pass. You see, I don’t drink.” you now fully turned your body to him, resting your head on your fingers as you crossed your legs. You watched as he slowly took in your figure, starting from your high heels, thighs, hips, and chest, then finally resting on your face. You returned his smirk.

“You like what you see, Mr. Stranger.” you used your manicured toes to tap your heel against the bottom of your foot, to feign being bored. You know it didn’t go unnoticed, because he seemed to smile more.

“Perhaps, but if you don’t drink then why are you here?” you noted the sweet cream-filled buns on the counter, but no alcohol.

Thank you for falling for my bait.

“I like to dance. Care to indulge with me?” You held out your hand with nails painted red to the man as you awaited his response.

“Gladly,”

The man placed his hand in yours. The fabric of his gloved fingers tickled your skin as they wrapped around your palm. You clicked your tongue, looking at his gloves.

“You plan on denying me skinship all night?” you pouted lightly, making a show of puffing your bottom lip while softening your eyes.

He laughed, standing up as he gently guided you out of your seat. You noticed now, even with your heels on, how much taller he was. The man let go of your hand, ensuring to back up a couple of steps so you could have a front-row seat of him peeling off his gloves with his teeth.

You let a satisfied smile pull on your lips, watching as he exposed his long and elegant fingers to you. He neatly folded the gloves and placed them in his pocket, now extending his hand toward you.

Placing your hand in his you had to hide the jolt that went through you. Though his fingers were calloused, the rough texture against your skin felt oddly nice as his warmth seeped into your flesh.

“You gonna keep that blindfold on too?” you asked sweetly, giving his fingers a little squeeze as he led your bodies deeper into the crowd.

Suddenly, he pulled your body into his by your hips. You could feel the muscles of his abdomen press against your full chest. Despite yourself, you blushed knowing that if he looked down, he could get a good view from your low-cut shirt. His hand found your face, forcing you to look up at him with the tilt of your chin.

“Most women like the mystery,” he mused, thumb tracing your lower lip as his other hand lightly gripped your hip, moving your body to the music.

You hummed lightly, taking your hands and running it over the expanse of his chest, enjoying the feel of his lithe body.

“I am not like most women,” you tease, taking his thumb between your teeth and lightly pressing it down on the pad.

He laughed, then bent down so he was at eye level with you. Ever-so-slightly, he pulled his thumb out of your mouth and lifted the left corner of the blindfold, exposing a brilliant blue eye. You wanted to stop moving to stare. But instead, you smirked, shrugging your shoulders lightly.

Damn, he’s handsome.

Smiling he let the fabric fall back over his eye, hands refinding your hips, continuing to move your bodies to the music.

“No you are not like most women, Ms. Stranger.” he dug his fingers a little harder into the leather of your skirt, and you returned the favor by dragging your nails down the ripples of his clothed muscles.

You closed your eyes, allowing yourself to enjoy the feeling of the music, the press of his warm body against yours, the feeling of his strong hands against your hips.

Let’s see if I can make you fold.

Opening your eyes you could feel his gaze on you so you smirked. Swaying your hips back and forth, you drew them in small circles as you started your slow, snaking descent to the ground. You ensured to keep what you would assume would be eye contact as you hovered your face dangerously close to his clothed legs.

He watched you, hands trailing up your arms and then to your face.

“Such a pretty thing,” he mused, fingers tangling in your hair as you snaked your way back up his body.

“Thank you, a compliment from a man like you means a lot.” you smile sweetly, turning your body so your ass was pressed against his leg. You take your hands and lace them around his neck as you slowly grind your body against his.

Hot breath kisses your ear as his hands grip your waist, moving his hips in time with yours, pulling you deeper into the press of his body. You hear him groan when you arch your back, ass going higher, brushing his semi-hard length.

Having fun are you?

You smiled to yourself as you brought your hands higher, fingers playing with the soft strands of his hair. Music thrummed all around you, but all you could feel was him. The smell of jasmine mixed with sweat filled your nose. His breath enticed your skin, and his fingers that gripped your waist gave you goosebumps. You leaned your head back against him, losing yourself in the moment.

He expertly teased you, fingers crawling down your thighs, lightly ghosting over your soft flesh. You shivered against him as he continued to light small trails of fire over your skin, his hands exploring any exposed part of you.

You two moved in unison for a while, bodies tangled, sweat coating your flesh as your breaths became heavy, mixing with one another. Somehow, one way or another, you found yourself pressed against a wall in the corner of the club.

The walls shook from the music, the vibrations tickling the skin of your back. His hands were on your hips as his face stood inches from your own, his lips a tongue distance away.

“You’re quite the tease,” he playfully said, the tips of his thumbs dipping into the waistband of your skirt as he pressed a knee between your legs, spreading them for him.

You let out a shuddering breath, but you didn’t let your smirk falter.

“What? You gonna take me right here? You seem like a smart man, I think we both know that’s not a good idea.” you purred, ensuring to make your voice seductive as you squinted your eyes up at him.

Whether it was from curiosity, or being drunk off of him, you pulled his blindfold off. Taking the soft fabric to the nape of his neck to lock his head into place, pulling him impossibly closer.

Blue eyes stared at you heatedly. His eyes were like the clearest sapphires; rare and impossible to obtain.

The sight alone made your toes curl.

“I don’t think you want to find out what I can do to you.” he trailed a slow finger up your stomach. It made your knees weak and your core ache. You never took men home. Really, you just enjoyed watching them crumble. You hadn’t had sex in months, but this man’s touch made your nerves sing in pleasure. You wondered what else he could do. If he could satisfy you.

“On the contrary, I don’t think you want to know what I can do to you. I don’t want to hurt that precious ego of yours.” you rubbed your nose affectionately against his, earning yourself a breathless laugh that tickled your lips.

“Try me–”

Ring Ring Ring

Shit.

Ring Ring Ring

“I think you should get that, miss.” without breaking eye contact, he plucked your phone from your purse, handing it to you with a knowing smile.

You sighed, swiping the green answer button and pressing the device to your ear.

“What?” you snapped into the phone but your anger subsided when the man pressed his lips to your neck. Your stomach fluttered at the sudden feeling as your hands clenched around his blindfold, a desperate attempt to hide your gasp.

“You haven’t checked into your hotel. It’s late, go now or I’m reporting you to HQ.” Kaito snapped at you, anger clear and evident in his tone.

The man smiled into your skin, licking a trail to your ear.

You cocky little shit.

“Fine, I am leaving now. Don’t get your tidy whities into a twist, Kai.” without waiting for his response, you hung up the phone.

Taking the blindfold, you placed it neatly back over his head, ruffling the top lightly. He pulled his head back from your neck, a light pout on his lips.

“Duty calls. It truly was a pleasure.” you draw out the last words as you trace your finger down the sweaty flesh of his chest.

He smiled and took your hand, pressing his lips lightly to your knuckles.

“Will I see you again?” he asks and you turn your hand, gripping his angular face in your small hand.

“Who knows? Maybe next time you can show me what you can do.”

With a wink, you left the tall man standing dumbfounded while you internally cursed, feeling your heat drip down your inner thighs.

Fucking Kaito, you owe me gourmet sushi for this one.

—

“Y/n, oh thank god I was getting worried!” You rolled your eyes, plucking off your heels in the middle of the hotel lobby and throwing them at Kaito.

He wore his pajamas to greet you, which only annoyed you further.

“Piece of trash, I was having a good time. You owe me sushi for possibly missing some really good dick.” Kaito looked mortified at your words. His face was that of a child walking in on their parents having sex.

“Oh don’t look like that. You’ve brought women back and fucked them in hotel rooms right next to mine. At least I’m classy and go somewhere else while you’re a bottom feeder.” you held your hand out to him while aggressively snapping your fingers to your palm.

“What?” he shouted at you, red-faced from embarrassment.

“Room key fuck face.” the realization hit him. He slapped the card into your hand and stormed off to the elevator.

You picked up your heels and nimbly followed him, cold marble tiles kissing your throbbing feet while you read the room number on the plastic card.

“You’re so insufferable,” he huffed, jamming the metal up arrow. The golden doors opened as you both stepped in, pressing your floor numbers, grateful to find that you were on different floors.

“Actually, I am quite likable. Everyone likes me, aside from you, of course~” you wiggle your fingers in his face, and he swats your hand away.

“Correction. People just want to fuck you. That is not the same.” he sighed, taking a hand through his hair.

“Not true, in the workforce I am well-liked.” you counter, knowing full well you are the first person they call when they need shit done.

The elevator stopped on his floor and he looked at you over his shoulder obviously annoyed.

“5 a.m–”

“Sharp. Yeah, yeah. Go get your beauty sleep.” you shooed him away and watched as his shoulders dropped. He was done with conversations for the night.

Once the doors closed, you leaned your back against the cool mirror as you let your body slump. You took the ends of your hair in your hand, idly twisting it as you let the night settle over you. Peering down at your phone you saw it was 0330, inwardly cursing yourself for getting too caught up in the moment.

Ding

The elevator doors opened and you padded over to your room. 1002 was the number you mindlessly looked for.

I should’ve kissed him.

You thought while sighing, prying the door to your room open. You found that your suitcase was already in the room. It was always like this. The higher-ups controlled every aspect of your life, you wouldn’t even be surprised if the room had hidden cameras.

Throwing your purse on the desk you peeled yourself out of your sticky clothes then squatted down to your suitcase, rummaging through it until you obtained your personal hygiene items.

You lazily made your way to the bathroom, turning on the shower to a near-boiling heat as you set up your skincare and haircare items. You’ll be staying in Tokyo for three months, so you want to try to keep things as neat as possible in this hotel room.

Stepping into the shower, you hummed blissfully at the kiss of the hot rain on your skin. You tilted your head back, enjoying the feeling of the water running down your flesh, ebbing the tension out of your muscles.

I wonder if I’ll run into him again.

—

“Eh? What do you mean foreign military officials are coming here?” Satoru asked, not quite believing in Yaga’s words.

“As I said, they’re coming here to monitor Yuuji’s condition. As the strongest, you're expected to keep your eye on them. Especially since he’s your student.” Yaga’s stern voice had no room for argument, causing Satoru to roll his eyes and press his back against the wall.

To be honest, he wasn’t fully mentally present today. He kept thinking about the woman he met last night. From the plush of her thighs down to the gasps she tried to stop from escaping her full lips. Oh, the things he wanted to do to her.

“Satoru, did you hear me?” Yaga sighed, knocking him out of his thoughts.

“Huh? Something about them being here soon?” he only guessed at what he said, and his guess was correct.

“Yes, so go and greet them. I’ll get Yuuji.” without waiting for a response his old teacher left.

Satoru sighed, stuffed his hands in his pockets, and made his way to the main gate. It was a warm Spring day and he enjoyed the quiet peace that surrounded him. He turned his blindfolded eyes to the sky, drinking in the endless soft blue that stretched for miles.

He sensed her before he saw her.

Opening his eyes wide, he shot his eyes in the direction of the cursed energy, praying that he was correct. He followed the flow of the energy to the young woman, dressed in an all-black suit, hair neatly pulled back into a tight bun, as none of her jewelry decorated her ears. If he didn’t have his Six-Eyes telling him that this woman was the same as the one he met last night, he wouldn’t have been able to tell it was the same person.

Once her eyes saw him, she hesitated for half a second, then continued her conversation with the blonde male standing next to her. He relaxed his posture and tried to find his nonchalant mask. He couldn’t react the way he did last night, even if his body was immediately responding to her presence.

He cleared his throat when the two approached. She eyed him out of the corner of her eye whereas the blonde man standing next to her looked at him like he was a god. Slowly, she turned her head to him, eyes immediately finding his despite the blindfold he was wearing.

“Are you the foreign military officials?” Satoru asked, already knowing the answer. The woman’s face was cold and indifferent, again, another stark contrast to last night.

“Yes, I’m L/N F/N and this is Ishiikawaia Kaito. We’re here concerning your student Itadori Yuuji.” She spoke calmly and professionally. Her shoulders were drawn back and her back was straight. But all he could recall was her figure, slightly leaning over her knees, eyes daring him to challenge her.

Finally, a name to that face.

“I’m Gojo Satoru, but don’t mind me too much. I’m just a teacher here.” She narrowed her eyes at his words, clearly recognizing the name. However, she just motioned for him to lead the way.

“Sir, how can you say you’re just a teacher? You’re the strongest sorcerer of this generation.” The man, Ishiikawaia, called excitedly.

A fan it seems.

“Kaito, we’re here on business. Save your fangirling for later.” Y/n chided forcing Satoru to hide his smile.

“I don’t mind, I’ll answer any questions you have.” He smiled innocently as he led them further into Jujutsu High's grounds, painfully aware of her stare.

Soon, Yaga and Yuuji came into view.

Why does she have to be in the military?

—

I’m fucked. This is fucked. Why is he here, and why is he him?

You couldn’t quell your thoughts. The man that you had teased and danced with last night was in front of you, and he was none other than Gojo Satoru; the man you are specifically tasked to study. Your fingers itched as you recalled the feeling of his hair. Your hips ached, wanting his strong hands to hold them, and your core throbbed, remembering the warm press of his wet tongue along your neck.

Why why why. Maybe he doesn’t remember me. It’s possible, he hasn’t shown any knowing behavior. But it’s hard to tell with that blindfold.

The others were talking around you, saying their introductions while you were completely lost in your own thoughts.

“Ms. L/N?” His low voice called to you, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“Yes?” You asked coolly, thanking yourself for the years of practicing to make your features indifferent. You watched as he gave you a slow knowing smile.

Oh, he knows. He definitely knows.

“You’ll come with me and Itadori. He’s my precious student after all.” He smiled at you, and though he came off as aloof, you now knew it was an act.

“Of course. It’s better if someone is there anyways. The more witnesses the better.” You say, deciding you were going to find a new way to tease him. If he was going to subtly poke and prod you, you were going to return the favor.

“W-Witness?” The pink-haired boy, Itadori Yuuji, said. It was clear he was nervous. So you smiled at him, the first smile you showed this group of people.

“Don’t worry. I only have a few questions for you. I understand quite a lot has happened since you became Ryomen Sakuna's vessel. I only wish to have a clearer picture.” You ensured your tone was warm and welcoming. Having the boy scared of you would accomplish nothing.

“Right this way,” Gojo said, leading the three of you away from Kaito and the school's principal, whose name you failed to hear.

“How long have you been in Tokyo?” Gojo asked you, head straightforward as he acted as a staggered buffer between you and his student.

I’m not going to kill the kid.

“Tokyo? I arrived yesterday. As for Japan, I’ve been stationed here for three years. Though I’m mainly based in Okinawa, I travel throughout the continent.” You answered honestly, trying to clip most of his questions in the bud.

He hummed in response, tapping his finger on his chin.

“So you’re not from Japan?” Itadori asked before Gojo could. So you sighed and nodded.

“I am from the States.” You answered and both the boys nodded, as if the picture they were painting of you became clearer.

The three of you entered a wooden room with a desk in its center. Two chairs sat on one side and a single chair decorated the other. You tried to make for the single seat, but Itadori beat you to it. The boy nervously sat down as you and Gojo sat across from him.

“To start,” you smoothed your hands over the table, bringing them in and lacing your fingers together. You tried to push your leg into Gojo’s, but you felt an invisible barrier.

“I’m not here to hurt you. We have no interest in taking your life, for we believe it has value.” You spoke your practiced corporate words, and they still tasted foul in your mouth.

Gojo’s knee brushed yours under the table and you had to hide your shock. Just a moment ago, you tried to do the same thing, but it didn’t connect.

The Infinity then. The report on him did say it was active at all times. So is he purposely dropping it? Or can he touch me but I can’t touch him?

“What do you want to know? I’ll answer any question.” Itadori said, his eyes bright and full of resolve. You felt bad for a moment, having to make him relive his past for you already knew everything based on the reports.

Gojos hand found your knee, squeezing it lightly as if encouraging you.

“Everything,”

—

By the end, Itadori was in tears. You reached across the table and took his hand in yours, giving it a pat for comfort.

“Thank you for being so honest. Do you need anything?” You asked softly, unable to be cold toward the crying young man. Gojo was now rubbing your thigh softly. There was no heat in his touch, just soothing comfort.

“No. Thank you for listening.” He wiped his eyes aggressively, and you drew your hand back, resting it on Gojo’s, entwining your fingers with his.

“Itadori, do you mind if I have a moment with your teacher?” His eyes went wide and Gojo’s hand halted its movement.

Why are both of you so surprised?

“Of course. If he tries anything weird just scream.”

You almost laughed, but you didn’t. You only nodded, your cue for him to exit the room.

Once you couldn’t hear the boy's footsteps, you turned your head toward the white-haired male. You allowed a small smile to tug on your lips, and he returned it with a smirk.

“We meet again, Gojo Satoru.” You say slowly, tasting his name out on your tongue, ensuring to draw out every letter of his name. He smiled further, his hand trailing to your inner thigh, long fingers wrapping around the clothed flesh.

“I must admit, I would have never guessed you’re a high-ranking military official.” He mused, taking his free hand and placing it under your chin, tilting your face upwards.

Crossing your legs to trap his hand between your thighs, you sighed. The warmth of his hand seeped through your pants down to your skin, and you enjoyed every minute of it.

“It’s a small detail. But I could say the same for you. Special-Grade sorcerer born with both the Six-Eyes and Limitless technique. I guess we both kept our identities a secret for a multitude of reasons.” You tapped your finger on the desk, showing the same amount of impatience as you did last night. He chuckled at the sight and grabbed your leg harder.

“Why can I touch you?” You hummed, taking that same finger and trailing it along his sharp jawline. He leaned into your touch as he traced your bottom lip with his thumb.

“Simple, it’s because I want you to.” His low breathy voice caused your heart to skip a beat, which you cursed yourself for.

“Tell me, Y/n. Do you mix work and pleasure?” He asked as he wrapped his hand around your neck. You bit your lip, hiding the small moan from the warm sensation and the sound of your name leaving his lips.

Lowering your eyelashes, you ran your tongue along your bottom lip, ensuring he was watching your every movement.

“Never,” you whispered to him and he smiled, hand tightening around your throat.

“We’ll see about that—“

He pulled away from you, separating your bodies as Kaito and the principal entered the room. Kaito immediately gave you a questioning stare, which you returned with an annoyed one.

“How did your meeting go?” The principal asked you, and you immediately stood and shook his hand.

“Well. Thank you for affording us the opportunity to speak to him.” You said to him gratefully. He nodded his head, being the first to let go of your hand.

“Your partner was explaining to me that you will be helping us with upcoming missions. We will be pleased if you could afford us your skills.” Though his tone was pleasant, it was unyielding. No room for negotiation.

You tightened your smile.

“Of course,”

—

“Come on give me your number~” Satoru called to y/n, who was expertly trying to ignore him. She weaved her way through Jujutsu High’s campus, leaving her partner to stay behind to talk to Yaga. They were walking through the halls that housed the classrooms.

“If you need to communicate with me, you can do so through your principal.” She sighed and he watched as she rolled her shoulders back, as if she was trying to mentally shake him off.

Turning off Infinity, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her into the classroom, relishing the look of surprise on her face. Placing his hands under her arms he put her on the desk while stepping between her legs, effectively locking her in place.

“What the fuck are you doing?” she hissed at him, though her eyes danced with amusement.

“You’re not leaving this room till you give me your number.” for emphasis, he snaked his arm around her waist and pulled out his phone.

She rolled her eyes but she smiled, shaking her head.

“You’re quite demanding, you know.” she tutted, placing her fingers on his abdomen, slowly walking them up his stomach.

“One of my many charms,” he chirped, suppressing a groan.

“What if I say no, hm?” she mused, looking up at him through dark wispy eyelashes while blinking innocently. His body responded to her touch, tingling where her fingers lightly trailed his clothed skin.

“I’ll make you wish you said yes,” he whispered in a hushed tone, bringing his face closer to hers. Her smell filled his senses, wild gardenia, and white tea. Soft and sweet, entirely intoxicating. Y/n only smirked, slightly tilting her head to the side while her fingers enclosed the high neckline of his jacket, pulling him closer.

“Is that a threat, or a promise?” she purred, lightly brushing her fingers over his neck, sending shivers down his spine. He chuckled then trailed his fingers up her spine, stopping to cup the nape of her neck.

“Neither. It’s a fact.”

Right when he went to kiss her, the door rolled open to reveal a mortified Megumi.

As quick as they could, they untangled themselves. Y/n hopped off the desk, smoothing her pants while Satoru opened his arms wide for his student.

“Megummiiii~!” he cheerily called, running up to his student. Megumi placed up a hand, shaking his head as a blush crept up on his cheeks.

“Not only are you an idiot but you’re a pervert. In a classroom, really? What kind of fantasies do you have playing in that brainless head?” he huffed and Satoru smiled.

“Well, there is this one that I wanted to try it’s–”

“I am going to find the nearest bridge and jump off it.” quickly turning on his heels, he walked away from the scene he just witnessed.

Satoru sighed and ran his hand through his hair.

Shit that was close, if he came in any later I wouldn’t have cared.

“Another precious student?” Y/n asked with a smile, sliding a piece of paper into his hand.

“Yeah, even if he sucks the fun out of everything. What’s this?” he opened the sheet, looking at the numbers written there.

She stepped in front of his vision, went up on her tippy toes, placed a kiss on his cheek, and walked away. He was too stunned to reach out to her. All he could feel was the soft warm press of her lips.

—

“Why were you alone with the head of the Gojo clan? What were you doing?” Kaito asked you as he drove the two of you back to your hotel. You simply turned up the music and looked out the passenger window.

“Hello? Are you just going to ignore me now? Did you fuck him?”

Does he think I am some kind of easy whore? Why does he think I fuck anyone I meet?

“No, I didn’t fuck him. I asked him questions. If you recall, I am to gain information on his strengths and weaknesses.” you said begrudgingly, mad that he was the person you needed to get close to. Not because you didn’t want to get to know him, but because it made you feel gross; like you were using him.

“Right, in bed maybe.” Kaito teased, adding fuel to your fire.

“Listen here you fake blonde piece of shit. If you have a problem say it, then we can take it outside.” you were fed up with his quips. If you needed to beat him bloody for him to stop, you would.

“You that touch starved, y/n? I didn’t know you were that lonely~”

Without warning, you grabbed his earlobe and twisted harshly. Kaito cursed and grabbed the wheel tightly, ensuring to keep the car steady.

“Ow ow ow! Stop it, I am driving are you crazy?!” he cried helplessly while trying to shake your iron grip.

“Oh, you thought because you’re behind the wheel you’d be safe? Nah. Apologize or it’s your pepperoni nipples next.” you twisted his ear harder and he whimpered, nodding his head.

“You’re right! I’m sorry, I won’t say it again!”

You let go of his angry flesh with the rough flick of your wrist, slumping in your seat.

“I want sushi,” you mumbled grumpily.

“Okay? Go get sushi.” he sighed, rubbing his ear. You clicked your tongue.

“You’re paying.”

“Fine.”

—

“Hey! Stop ordering so much food!” Kaito cried as you continued adding things to the cart via the order pad.

“Huh? I can’t hear you.” you teased, finishing up the last bit of your order, holding your hand up for his card. The male sighed and aggressively placed the platinum card in your hand.

This is giving me DejaVu.

“The company card, huh? You sure are brave~” popping the card into the chip slot, you happily kicked your legs.

I love free food.

“We get fixed expenses every month, you know that. Since you’re on this mission they gave us even more.” he sighed, sipping on his beer.

Ding Ding Ding

You looked down at your phone, you received a text from an unknown number.

“You miss me yet?”

You chuckled, ensuring to open the message so he could see you read it, then placed your phone back in your purse.

Let’s see how fast you squirm, Gojo Satoru.

“What are you smiling so creepily about?” Kaito eyed you sidelong and your face dropped. You kicked his shin, becoming increasingly annoyed by his presence.

“I can’t smile?” You quip, sucking on your teeth.

“No, it’s creepy– Ow! Stop kicking me.”

“Well then stop saying useless things.”

Ding Ding Ding

“You ignoring me, Y/n? That’s not very nice, you’re going to make me cry!”

You tried to imagine him crying, but you couldn’t.

“I am eating dinner, I’ll text you later.”

“Dinner? Where? I'll join you.”

“Some sushi restaurant downtown. Come if you dare, Kaito’s company is riveting.”

You dropped him the location of the restaurant, doubting he will even show up.

“Who are you texting?” Kaito asked, still obviously creeped out by you. As he spoke the food was placed on the table. He looked like he was going to cry by the amount of dishes being presented.

It’s not even your money, bastard.

“None of your business,” you chided, picking up your chopsticks and clicking them in his face. He waved a dismissive hand, picking up his own chopsticks while deciding what to eat first.

“Was it Gojo Satoru?” he asked and you sighed, even though he was right he was annoying.

“Why are you asking?” you popped a piece of sushi in your mouth.

“Because he’s right behind you.”

You turned your head so quickly that you nearly choked on your food.

That was way too fast.

Gojo caught your eye and walked up to your table, gracefully sliding in next to you with a smile.

“Hey! I didn’t know you guys were here, you should’ve invited me!” Kaito only raised a brow, clearly not convinced.

“Mhm, order what you want.” he placed the card in Gojo’s large hand. He laughed heartily as he reached across the table, a long arm passing your face as he grabbed the tablet.

You quietly ate your food while feeling dumbstruck. One, you didn’t think he’d show up, two, you didn’t think he’d show up this quickly.

“So, Gojo, what brings you here?” Kaito asked as a piece of tuna sashimi quickly got placed in his mouth after his question.

“Hmm,” Gojo hummed, finishing his order, and placing the tablet back in its original place. As he leaned back into his seat, he brushed his fingers down your arm.

“I wanted to grab a bite to eat, Y/n’s questioning went pretty long after all.” he enclosed his fingers around yours, gently playing with the tips of your fingers.

“You’re on a first-name basis? I didn’t know you two were that close.”

Kaito you bastard.

Gojo laughed lightly, shaking his head.

“Non-Japanese last names are hard for me to pronounce smoothly, so she allowed me to call her by her first name. Is that a problem, Ishiikawaia?” Gojo’s voice turned cold, even causing you to shiver. You eyed him, although if his voice was so cold just now he was smiling brightly.

“N-No, I am sorry.” Kaito decided his beer was more interesting because he downed the whole pint.

Gojo’s food came to the table and you all ate in relative silence.

“Y/n, do you have anything planned after this?” he asked, turning to you as he munched on a Daifuku mochi. You don’t know why, but the sight of this man liking sweets made your heart squeeze.

“No, I don’t. Why?” You say slowly, cocking your head to the side playfully, knowing Kaito was gaping at you.

“I want to show you around Tokyo.” He smirked at you, popping a finger into his mouth, slowly licking the powder off of the digit. You swallowed, throat suddenly feeling dry.

“I think I can fit you into my schedule,” you say sweetly, swirling your finger around the rim of your glass of water. Meanwhile, Kaito couldn’t hide his absurd expression.

“You’re crazy, Y/n. If they hear about this–”

You whipped your head toward your partner, staring him down. He stopped speaking mid-sentence.

“How, exactly will they hear about it? Also, what is this ‘it’ you’re referring to? It seems you forgot about our conversation last night. That’s not the only thing I know, Kai.” you leaned over the table, grabbing his wrist with your hand, narrowing your eyes.

“Go ahead and try me, pretty boy, let’s see how far you’ll get before I crush you.” you heard him gulp as his eyes shook in anger– or maybe fear, it was hard to tell. But only when he nodded you let him go, pushing your chair back with your knees and exited the building.

Warm air hit your face as you stepped outside and noises of the bustling city filled your ears. You weren’t angry, not really. But you’d be damned if the man ranked lower than you in both strength and grade tried to threaten you.

He’s just jealous because his idol has no interest in him.

A sigh escaped your lips, then you felt a hand on your waist. You leaned into his touch, your mind and body already adjusting to sensing him and his unique energy.

“Quite the temper you have,” he beamed down at you and you shrugged, turning to face him.

“I’m not sure what you have planned, but let me get out of this monkey suit.” you want to put your earrings back in your ears, take your hair out of this painfully tight bun, and wear something more comfortable than your formal suit.

Gojo ran his hands over the length of your waist while clicking his tongue.

“I like you in the suit though,” he pouted, earning a humorless laugh from you.

“I have much more flattering clothes, rest assured.” you took his hand and made your way to the vehicle Kaito drove here. It’s a shared car, he didn’t own it. Even though you detested driving in the city, it made you feel good knowing he would have to find a different way back to the hotel.

“You gonna leave him stranded?” Gojo asked as you unlocked the car, sliding in the driver's seat, making adjustments so you could drive comfortably.

“He’s been drinking, it would be irresponsible for me to let him drive.” with a wink, you plucked out your phone and shot him a text stating as much. Then, remembering his phone calls last night, you turned the device off.

Gojo laughed and followed your lead, doing the same to his. You backed out of the small parking lot, a smirk on your face.

“You must like me a lot to do that. You’re an important man after all. What if the world burns down while you’re entertaining me?” you kept your eyes on the road while your left hand gripped the wheel, leaving your right relaxed on the center console. Now that you were alone in a confined space, your heart started to beat a little faster as anticipation settled into your nerves.

“They’ll just have to break down the door and drag me out. I have my priorities in order for today.” his hand traveled to your thigh, rubbing slow circles against the fabric, causing goosebumps to kiss your skin.

“Am I a priority now?” while coming to a stop at a red light, you allowed yourself to look at him. His head was turned to you as that familiar smirk tugged on his lips. Some part of you wished you could see his eyes, so you could read him better, gauge how he was feeling.

“You’ve been on my mind all day, why wouldn’t you be?” you were shocked by his honesty, unable to stop the blush that swept across your cheeks. It deepened even further when he slid his hand between your legs, long fingers nearly brushing the apex of your thighs.

Damn, what am I? A schoolgirl? I wish he would bring his hand a little higher…

The light turned green and you continued to drive, trying to desperately block your dirty thoughts out.

“I am going to take a guess, but you know what my actual mission is, don’t you?” the way he comforted you earlier, he read your body language. You didn’t mean to, but you showed signs of knowing too much.

“Tsk, talking about work with me during our off time. But to answer your question, yes. Your superiors have been wanting to get dirt on me for a while, trying to create a countermeasure to detain me if the day comes that I go crazy.” you nodded your head, mulling over his words, trying to formulate a response.

“If that day comes, I’ll happily put in my resignation and flee to Hawaii.” you sigh, remembering the soft white sand beaches and warm oceans. You could almost feel the salty sea breeze kissing your skin.

“I’ll personally seek you out once the damage is done.” he squeezed your thigh and you laughed. A full, real laugh. One that made your lungs gasp for air and your stomach hurts. You tried so hard to keep your eyes focused as you turned into the hotel parking garage.

“What’s so funny~” he mused, laughter now tickling his voice.

You parked the car and leaned against the seat, tilting your head back as you let your laughter subside.

“I’m sorry. It’s just the idea of you seeking me out after decimating Japan is silly. What importance do I hold?” your hands laced over your stomach, trying to hold your laughs in at the absurd thought.

“I thought I was being romantic,” He joined you in laughter, and you both sat in the car for a while, simply trying to catch your breath. Once you could speak normally again, you eyed him, many questions lingering on the tip of your tongue.

“Are we going somewhere? Or should I dress comfortably?” he raises his eyebrows. You try not to chuckle. You knew what his intent was, for it was obvious last night when he was grinding his hard-on against your ass and again today when he cornered you in the classroom.

“Hm, what do you want, y/n?”

Ah, making it into my decision.

“That depends on what your intent is. You hardly strike me as the committed type.” you run your finger over the length of the steering wheel idly, trying not to get lost in thought.

“And you are? You seem to enjoy crushing men under that pretty little foot of yours.” you smile at his words, shrugging your shoulders.

“I like knowing what makes people tick. I don’t have a partner due to my field of work. Too unpredictable, too dangerous. I can make enemies quickly, and that would put any loved one in danger. People… They’re fragile. I’ve seen too many friends I’ve cared for die.” your words suddenly felt too real, and that weight on your shoulders returned.

“You’re a sorcerer and a strong one at that. I can see your cursed energy, it’s like an endless well. How’d you end up in the military?” a question poised with ease, but in truth, it’s a loaded gun, pointed right at you.

You shook your head, pointing to the little black box right behind the rearview mirror and then to your ear. He nodded with understanding and you both exited the car, walking in silence to your hotel room.

“Wait out here, I’ll be out in a minute.” you entered the space, but he followed you in. You narrowed your eyes toward him and he held his hands up in defense.

“Dress comfortably, and pack an overnight bag. Or a few days, depending on how much you enjoy my company.” his voice was filled with pure confidence and it made you scoff. Men usually did what you told them to, not the other way around. It was strange, having the shift in your usual dynamic, but it wasn’t unwelcome.

“Alright. You’re helping me though. There's a plastic travel bag in the bottom drawer on the right side of the bathroom. Please put all my skincare and haircare items in there.” you made your way to the closet, where you spent your morning meticulously ironing and hanging up your clothes while waiting for the clock to strike 5.

“Why do you have so much skincare?!” he called from the bathroom and you giggled.

“Taking care of your skin is important!” you call back, picking out an outfit of sweatpants and a black t-shirt while grabbing a pair of pajamas and two pairs of suits. You didn’t know how long your stay with him would last, but you wanted to be a little prepared.

“But 20 different products?!” he shouted again like a child, and you could only smile, placing your clothes into a backpack. With a peek over your shoulder, you hurriedly got undressed, changing out your undergarments for something a little more lacey and sexy, then shoving your comfy clothes on. You took your hair out of the bun as your face was burning and you were cursing at yourself.

He’s just another guy, why am I so flustered?

Quickly, you shoved your feet into your sneakers and placed your dress shoes into the small compartment of your travel backpack. Suddenly feeling grateful to your past self for planning accordingly. Additionally, you added your makeup kit and a few different sets of underwear to the pack.

Making your way to the bathroom, you leaned against the door frame. You watched as Gojo neatly placed and organized your items, careful to buffer each glass bottle between a plastic one. He stuck his tongue out lightly as if he was deeply concentrated.

“Do you really need all this?” he sighed, noticing your presence as he moved on to your hair items. You smiled, mostly to yourself, as he placed each item out neatly onto the counter, deciding what to put in the bag first.

“You should see my makeup kit.” you could’ve sworn his face turned pale at your words.

“Please tell me you’re not bringing it,” he whined as he finished packing your hygiene kit. You felt oddly happy knowing he took so much care in ensuring your products wouldn’t get ruined. You walked up behind him and slid your hands around his waist, pleased to find his barrier wasn’t up. Due to the height difference, you placed your head against his upper back, taking in his scent.

“If you want, we can have a little skincare date~” you teased, swaying lightly from side to side. He rubbed your arms, humming as he allowed you to move his body.

“You mean you would pamper me?” he asked sweetly, turning around in your arms so he could face you. You gave him your kindest smile. One truly only a few people saw. You thought that this man was just a womanizer, but the truth is he’s very complex and sweet. You watched as a light blush kissed his cheeks, which only made you smile wider.

“If that’s what you wish, then of course I will. Again, what we do all depends on your intent, Gojo.”

“Satoru.” he corrected and you nodded.

“What would you like to do, Satoru?” you splayed your palms flat against his back, nails digging into the fabric of his jacket. Part of you wanted him to fuck you, of course. But the other part of you wanted to have a conversation, to maybe get to know him. It had been so long since you actually bared your soul with someone.

He took your face in his hands, fingers lovingly rubbing circles into your scalp, causing you to melt into his fingers.

“I think we shouldn’t plan anything and see where things go. You are…” he paused for a moment, cocking his head to the side as he considered his words.

“Enticing, tempting, alluring. I am drawn to you, for one reason or another. I think I would like to know what makes you tick, y/n.” his words were so soft, it was like they were caressing your mind and easing your wariness. Your smile turned sad, memories of your past flashing in your mind.

“I may not be as pretty as you believe me to be,” you whispered, almost to yourself. He stroked his thumbs over your cheeks, a soothing comfort.

“We have all done things we’re not proud of, but it doesn’t take away from your value. What you do going forward is what matters.” you half laughed, pressing your head to his chest, listening to the steady thrum of his heartbeat.

“I thought you were an idiot,” you mumble against him and he chuckles, the sound vibrating deep in his warm chest.

“We all wear masks,”

—

You didn’t know what you were expecting, but a massive gated property with gardens certainly wasn’t it.

You didn’t hide your shocked expression as he gave you a quick tour of his home. You couldn’t believe you were still in Tokyo, where the buildings are so cramped together and you could see into your neighbor's property just by peering out your window. Here, his land stretched for miles before you came to the street, which was relatively deserted.

I know he’s the head of the Gojo clan, but being handsome, powerful, and rich seems like a massive slap in the face.

You eyed the man out of the corner of your eye, silently cursing him for having been born with a silver spoon in his mouth.

You two had made it two his room, which was neat and clean with simple solid colors of white, light gray, and sky blue. The bed stood at the center, and though it was massive, it hardly took up space in the room. You wanted to cry. How much money did this guy even have?

“Why do you look so shocked?” he laughed at you, taking your bag from your hand and quickly locating your hygiene and makeup kit.

“I– I just wasn’t expecting this, I guess?” you sighed, following his lead and taking your clothes out of the bag. You laid them neatly on a chair in the corner of the room, taking in the TV and ceiling mirror. You quirked up a brow.

You’re one of those, are you?

When he exited the bathroom, you gave him a disgusted look and pointed your finger to the ceiling.

He shrugged nonchalantly, taking your pointed finger and dragging you into the bathroom. You were confused for a moment, but then you noticed he neatly laid out your skin care.

“Eager, are you?” you said through a laugh and he clapped his hands together, rubbing them excitedly.

“Work your magical skincare on me!” while smiling at him, you tutted as you took in his clothes. He still wore his sorcerer uniform and that simply won’t do.

“Your clothes are no good,” you sigh dramatically, hands finding the zipper of his jacket and immediately undoing it. He wore a white button-down shirt under his coat, which only made you more annoyed. You didn’t want to get water on his clothes.

“You know, if you wanted to see me shirtless you could’ve just said so. Though the enthusiasm is appreciated.” his nimble fingers undid the buttons of his shirt exposing his toned body to you. Your retort died in your throat at the sight.

His chest was a perfect mix of soft and sculpted. Whereas his arms and abs were all muscle, strong, and lithe. You followed the dips and contours of his body, looking at his adonis belt, which dipped even lower. Your mouth went impossibly dry.

Damn, this man is too attractive.

“You like what you see, y/n?” he teased you with your own words.

With a sly smile, you look up to him.

“Of course, but,”

You reach your fingers up, dipping them under his blindfold, and push it back. Using it as an effective hairband. He blinked at you with his beautiful eyes, long white eyelashes fluttering against his skin. Yet again, his beauty struck you. Honestly, you felt as if it outshined your own. He was like a Renaissance painting; timeless.

“I like seeing these a lot more.” you hummed happily, letting yourself get lost in his surprised stare for a moment. He gave you a lop-sided smile, one that was real and unpracticed.

“You really aren’t like most women,” you cutely shrug your shoulders and turn to the sink, turning the water on to a warm temperature.

“Most women don’t know what they want,” you state, grabbing a nearby chair and sitting Satoru down in it, trying your best not to eye fuck his body. Which was hard, considering he was shirtless and sitting with his legs spread wide.

Returning to the sink, you wet your hands and place your cleanser on your fingers. Aggressively rubbing your palms together you create a lather. Then you face Satoru and work that lather into his skin.

“What is it you want?” He asked slowly, eyes closing as he leaned into your soft touch. You traced your fingers under his jaw, working your magic down his neck.

“To do what I want and protect my people. That’s it. Everything else is secondary.” you halted your cleaning to wet a hand towel with water, ringing out most of the liquid, then began to wipe away the cleanser.

“You don’t want to get married? Or have children?” you considered his words, grabbing a hydrating mask and slowly applying it to his skin.

“If I fall in love, I fall in love. If marriage is a result of that so be it. As for children, I don’t know. If they inherit my gift, then they’ll be sought out and used just like I have been. I don’t want that for anyone.” you spoke honestly as you finished applying the mask to his face. He opened his eyes, looking at you intensely.

“Why are you working for the government?” his hands found your hips, thumbs rubbing slow circles into your muscles, relaxing your tension. With slight hesitation, you place your feet on either side of his hips and sit down on his lap, careful to avoid his sex. His eyes light up with amusement, but you ignore it.

“I can speak 4 different languages, which was already a desirable trait for them. Second is that I possess the ability to shape my cursed energy and turn it into solid matter. If I know what it looks like and its rough function, I can create it. The catch is once I stop funneling my energy into it, it disappears. Third is that I can apply the Reversed Cursed Technique to others and heal their wounds.” you closed your eyes, dreading the next words to come out of your mouth.

“Once I finished getting my Ph.D. in Psychiatry, I published my theory on cursed spirits and how I think I could curate a medicine that normal civilians could take to help limit the number of curses being born into this world. It became widely popular on the sorcerer's end, and the next thing I knew, my brother was being held by the military. The only way they were going to let him go is if I signed a contract to work independently for them as a Foreign Affairs Investigator.” Satoru rubbed your arms and a false sense of safety washed over you, giving you the courage to continue.

“As soon as I signed that damned contract, they killed him. I have done… Some pretty fucked up things for them. I have the rest of this year left, then I am free.” finally, you allowed yourself to meet his eyes. Deep blue wells stared at you with such sincerity your heart cracked at the sight. For some reason, it made you emotional, so you laughed, lightly running your fingers through his hair.

“That’s why you don’t get close to anyone.” not trusting your voice you nod your head.

“You’re the same as me, then.”

Satoru tilted his head back, exposing his long neck to you as he began telling you the story of his youth. You listened intently, gently massaging his shoulders, giving him the same comfort he gave you. Your heart broke when he was finished. You both had been through so much but at completely different hands.

“Do you miss him?” you asked, not giving him the fake sympathy bullshit people gave you.

“Yeah, you?” his voice sounded raw.

“Every day,” you whispered honestly. How long had it been since you were able to talk about him?

Playing with the ends of his silken hair, you pressed a kiss to his shoulder.

“It’s time to wash off the mask” You forced some life into your voice as you peeled yourself away from his warmth. Bashfully, you reached your hands out to him. It was silly really, your small frame pulling him out of the seat. But he happily placed his hands in yours, allowing you to lead him to the sink and gently wash the mask off his skin.

“Are we done now?” he asked, some humor returning to his tone as he patted his skin dry with a towel.

“Not even close. We have toner, serum, essence, eye cream, and then moisturizer– Don’t give me that look” You clicked your tongue, going to reach for your toner but he caught your wrist. Eyebrows knitting together, you eyed him suspiciously.

“No more,” he pulled you into him, his bare chest coming very close to your face. You felt your face become hot so you avoided his gaze, mind becoming slightly hazy.

“That’s not fair,” you mumble, trying your best to look anywhere that wasn’t him.

“What’s not fair, hm? Use your words.” Satoru’s playful voice coaxed, causing you to blush even harder. His hands played with the hem of your oversized T-Shirt, long fingers lightly brushing your flesh.

“You can’t be perfect all the time, it’s not fair.” he laughed at your words, head tilting back in the process. You rolled your eyes, trying to force yourself to be annoyed but it was an impossible task.

“You just heard about how imperfect I am, y/n. You’re just easy to tease.”

Cocky bastard.

“So are you,” you retort, and he smirks. His eyes tell you to bring it on.

Oh, challenging me, are you?

In a swift movement, you grab the blindfold that held back his hair and wrap it around his neck, pulling him down to your level, and pressing your lips to his. His muffled surprise gets swallowed by you, and you melt in his sweet warmth.

Taking his bottom lip between your teeth, you slowly pull back, enjoying the deep blush on his cheeks.

“See?” you say, taking his blindfold around your pointer finger and swinging it in circles triumphantly. He smiles, hot breath kissing your cheek as he brings his hands under your thighs pulling you up. On instinct, you wrap your legs around his waist, as your hands grip his shoulders.

“H-Hey, what’re you–?”

Satoru pressed his lips to yours. The soft pressure threatened to consume your senses as his tongue claimed your mouth, dancing and swirling your own, the taste of him coating your tongue. Your lips moved softly against each other, the pressure growing with each press of his lips and the lick of his tongue. You were solely lost in the feeling of him– the press of your chest against his, the erection that lightly rubbed against your growing heat, and the tantalizing taste of him making you want more.

He brought you to the bed, easily towering over you as he pressed your back to the mattress, hips lightly grinding into you making you gasp. Dropping his blindfold, you tangle your fingers in his hair as his hands slide under your shirt. Satoru ghosts his fingers over your stomach, even the slightest touch makes your body jump. You take his tongue further into your mouth, sucking the muscle, earning yourself a satisfied groan from him which you hungrily swallow.

He pulls away from your kiss, lips swollen and wet as he stares down at you. You get lost in his eyes, finding it hard to breathe under his gaze. For a moment, you two stay like that, drinking in each other's features as your chests are heaving.

“You’re beautiful, y/n.” his fingers traced the planes of your face, causing fiery tingles to travel down your spine. Your eyes widened. It wasn’t the first time you heard those words. But coming from him, it felt different. It felt meaningful.

You smile, placing your hand on his chest to push him back against the bed. You knew he let you, but you didn’t care. Straddling him, you let his hands come up and under your shirt, dragging it off your frame, partially exposing your chest.

You let him explore your skin for a moment. His eyes were filled with wonder as he traced the lines of your tattoos. You tried to control the shivers that ran down your body, due to his fingers lighting small trails of fire against your desperate skin. His hands found your breasts, thumbs rubbing your clothed nipples, making you moan as the feeling traveled to your core.

Unable to control yourself, you press your lips to his, grinding your hips down against him to relieve some of that growing tension between your thighs. You bite his lip, greedily enjoying the way his thick member rubbed against your throbbing clit. His hands unclasped your bra, allowing your heavy breasts to fall free from their cage.

His hands grasp your breasts, fingers expertly rolling and teasing the peaked rosy buds. He lets out a satisfied moan as you grip his hair tightly. The feeling of his calloused hands on you causes your blood to sing, sending pleasurable waves down your spine. You remove your lips from him, planting sloppy, wet kisses against his jaw then trailing them down his neck, sucking on the supple flesh.

Taking your tongue and licking it along the expanse of his neck, you smile into his skin as he shudders, bucking his hips up into you. Ever-so-gently, you run your teeth over the shell of his ear, then pull back, blowing cool air on the hot trail of saliva you left on him.

“Fuck,” he sighs, dipping his head down to take your breast in his mouth.

You place your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself, the feeling of his warm mouth suddenly on your skin caused your knees to go weak. Your body trembled as he licked and nipped at your nipple, pleasure going straight to the pit in your stomach. He rubbed his hard cock against your clothed sex with just the right pressure, all you could do was suck on the soft skin of his neck, losing yourself in the pleasure he was giving you.

“Mm, Satoru” you breathe heavily into his flesh, pulling away from his dangerous ministrations, staring down at the smirking male. He licked his swollen lips, and brought his hand to your face, gripping your cheeks.

“Say my name again,” he demanded, free hand snaking around your body, gripping your ass, shaking it against him.

“Satoru,” you moaned his name and his eyes darkened, pupils dilating so much it eclipses the blue.

Your desire was reflected in his eyes and he flipped your bodies, hands coming to the waistband of your sweats pulling them off of you in a swift motion. You returned the favor, suddenly hating any and all barrier’s separating your bodies. You made to remove his boxers, but he caught your hand, placing it high above your head as he reclaimed your lips.

“I’m going to take my time with you, y/n,” he whispered hotly against you. You couldn’t help the whine that escaped your throat. You were quickly becoming impatient, with the loss of contact between your legs and breasts, you wanted more. You needed more.

“See,” he pressed his lips to your jaw, hot tongue trailing the bone.

“If I fuck you now, I won’t be able to stop.” Taking your ear in his mouth, he licked your lobe, tongue swirling around it lightly.

Satoru trailed his hand up your leg, fingers finding your knee and spreading your legs for him. He continued trailing his sinful fingers north, coming so close to your heated sex that you nearly cried– you wanted him to touch you. His lips traveled down your neck, nipping at the tender flesh until he found your collarbone.

“I am going to make you feel so good, that my name is the only thing that leaves your lips.” the sheer promise in his words made your eyes roll back and your body tense in anticipation. He continued kissing his way south, ensuring to leave love marks along the way. You tried to move your hips to meet his hand, but you found you met an invisible barrier.

Huh?

You tried to grab his face, but your hands met nothing. His eyes met yours as he hovered over your sex. You saw his eyes light up with amusement when you tried to touch him again, displeased to find that he put up his barrier.

“No touching, or I stop,” he warned, pressing a kiss to your clothed pussy. You felt jolts shock your hips from the contact, whimpering from the slight release.

Releasing you hadn’t answered him, you nodded your head.

“That won’t do, princess. Tell me with your words.” another kiss, this time to your inner thigh. His hands ran the length of your long torso and then settled on your hips, holding your trembling body still for him. You were dizzy, you knew you needed to speak, but it was hard. The thought of even trying to formulate a sentence made your eyebrows knit together.

“I won’t touch you,” you bite your bottom lip harshly, feeling embarrassed. You were so worked up and he barely did anything to you. Your nerves were on high alert, you were breathing heavily, but more than anything you craved him.

“Good girl,”

The praise made you moan happily, distracting you when he ripped your panties off with one hand. You were about to protest, but he licked a long stripe up your entrance. Your back arched from the sudden pleasure as your hands gripped the sheets. You peered down at him and he was smiling up at you from between your legs. The sight alone made your walls clench.

“You’re so wet for me, y/n.” pulling his head back, he stared at your dripping pussy, marveling at the way the liquid spilled out of you down to your ass.

“Maybe I don’t need to prep you too much, hm?” he hummed, sticking his tongue into your cunt causing you to mewl. He swirled the muscle in you, moaning as you coated his tongue. The light pressure drove you mad, making you tilt your head back, as small soft moans escaped your lips.

“I– please don’t stop,” you pleaded, and he rewarded you by flattening his tongue against you, licking all the way up to your needy clit. Your legs began to tremble as he devoured you. Warm, wet mouth wrapping around your bundle of nerves sucking as his tongue flicked. The amount of pressure he applied was frighteningly perfect, adjusting with every lick and suck, causing your core to tighten.

“You taste so fucking good,” he playfully nipped your clit and you cried, half shouting his name as the feeling shot right through you, settling in your firey stomach.

“Fuck, just like that, keep moaning for me, baby.” his words were the only thing grounding you to reality, and you happily obliged him wanting nothing more than the promise of sweet release.

Your feet were hot, toes curling as sharp tingles attacked your arches. Your hands and legs were shaking violently from both restraint and the ridiculous amount of pleasure you were receiving. You were panting heavily, eyes fixated on the ceiling mirror, watching him give you his utmost attention.

He ran his hand up your abdomen and roughly grabbed your face, forcing you to look at him as he shoved two fingers in your mouth.

“Suck,” he breathed into you, flattening his tongue against your clit and roughly shaking his head. You moaned heatedly against his fingers, taking them further into your mouth, letting them travel down your esophagus. You licked his flesh as you would if it was his cock, hollowing out your cheeks and coating his skin with your thick saliva.

Satoru pulled his head back from your heated sex to sweep his arm under your legs, forcing them up and over your head, folding you like paper, putting you on full display for him. He pulled his fingers out of your mouth and you gasped for air while moving your hands to grip your knees.

“Mm,” Satoru hummed, rubbing and scissoring his fingers together, watching your stringy saliva dance on his skin. With his free hand, he gave your ass an appreciative slap. The pain went straight to your groin and you mewled, nails digging into your flesh.

“You want me to keep going?” he asked, lips wet with you and his voice deliciously seductive. He placed a kiss on the crease of your inner thigh and sex as his fingers, wet with your saliva, played with your throbbing entrance. You whimpered, of course you wanted him to, and you knew he knew talking was hard for you.

“Ah. Fuck… Yes.” you panted out, finding it hard to focus on your words, when all you could think about was the feeling of his fingers teasing you. You were completely and utterly at his disposal, like a loyal dog willing to do anything for a treat.

“Talk to me baby, tell me what you want. You want me to fuck you with my fingers, or my mouth?” he purred, giving your clit a light flick, making you cry.

“I– Both. I want both. Please, please…” Tears pricked your eyes, your body was so on edge, so overstimulated that it didn’t know what to do. Your mind couldn’t grasp the situation, it was like your brain was short-circuited and all it could think of was his fingers, fucking you nice and deep.

“God you’re so fucking hot when you beg,”

Without warning, he pressed his fingers into you and returned his mouth to your hardened clit. You had to squeeze your eyes shut from the feeling as your walls clenched around his digits tightly. He licked you vigorously as he curled his long fingers, pumping your pussy, stretching you out for him.

“Fuck fuck fuck,” you moaned, biting your lip to try to contain your sobs. Your orgasm was approaching and every muscle in your body tightened, preparing for that crash. Satoru’s hand came to your ass, gripping it tightly as he shook it, the sensation heightening the pleasure he was giving you.

“Satoru, I’m–”

He slapped your ass, shaking his head.

“Not until I tell you,” he warned and you clenched your walls around him hard. Tears ran down your face as your whole body shook violently. It was all so overwhelming, all you wanted was release, but it was as if his words were law, and your body obeyed obediently.

Unable to control your hands, you gripped his strong shoulders, nails digging into his skin creating crescent moon craters.

“Please, I, ah, fuck. Please, Toru’, I can’t” Your vision was just beginning to go black, and he completely backed off of you.

No!

Unable to support your body, you fell on the mattress, your legs bouncing lightly as your whole body shook. Quickly, you propped yourself on your elbows, looking at him like you were about to set him on fire.

“Why?” you breathed, shakily coming up onto your knees, grabbing his smug face with your small hands. He smiled further, turning his face to kiss your palm as he removed his boxers. You let your eyes fall for a second, pleased to see his angry cock spring against his stomach, but it didn’t ease your anger.

“You’re so obedient, y/n.” he didn’t answer your question, instead his hands found your hips, pulling you on top of his body. You immediately, tightened your muscles, refusing to let your core rub him. His hands snaked around to your ass, rubbing and gripping your plump flesh appreciatively.

“I was so close, why didn’t you let me–” your words died, eyes falling on his as you became entirely consumed by his gaze. You almost forgot how angry you were, almost…

Placing your hands on either side of his face, you burned your gaze into him, earning yourself an award-winning smile and a laugh to match. A pout fell on your lips, but you couldn’t help but laugh too.

His hands came up to caress your face and you leaned into his touch, letting some over your edge melt away.

“I’m sorry, but I’m selfish.” he kissed you, deep and slow, tongue dancing with yours pulling you deeper into him. You dropped your weight, hissing when your slick entrance rubbed against his cock. He sucked on your tongue, hiding a gruntled groan which made you smile.

Hesitantly, you ground your hips against him, your body still unimaginably sensitive. His hands found your hair, tangling in your soft strands, pulling you impossibly closer to him.

Still lost in his dizzying kiss, you trailed your hand down his body, stopping only when your fingers wrapped around his cock. He bit your bottom lip, a moan escaping his mouth as you pumped him slowly, thumb rubbing over his precum, using it to wet the head.

You pulled back from the kiss, grabbing his face with your free hand as you positioned your throbbing pussy over his cock.

“I’m also selfish,”

You slowly lowered your body, lower lip quivering when the tip pushes past that first ring, the stretch already feeling too good. Even though you wanted to close your eyes and savor the full feeling you were slowly giving yourself, you enjoyed seeing his expression more.

His eyes were heavy and hazy, as his swollen lips were parted in an ‘o’, watching your walls swallow him. You drank him in, relishing in the small whimper he let out when you accepted all of him, letting yourself sit and adjust to his thickness. Satoru slightly brought his hips up, truly giving you all of him and you cursed. He went so deep in you, you were being stretched deliciously as you were feeling full; complete.

Placing your hands on his chest, you slowly rose your body up, almost letting him come out of you, then you sank back down.

“F-Fuck,” Satoru cursed, his head falling back as his hands gripped your waist, assisting you in setting your pace.

At first, you slowly ground against him, enjoying every inch that filled you. But you both began to grow impatient as you brought your feet beneath you, picking up your pace and bouncing up and down. Satoru met your every thrust with his own, angling himself so he wouldn’t hit your cervix but that he was deep enough to make you tremble.

You ignored the burn in your legs, the only thing you cared about was driving the two of you over the edge, to feel that sweet release crash over your body.

“You look so good on top, y/n. You take my fucking dick so well, fuck.”

He brought his hands to your ass, gripping the flesh tightly as he assisted your movements, alleviating some of the lactic acid out of your legs. You moaned helplessly, the pace you set was brutal, causing your breasts to bounce against your chest, each drop bringing you just a little closer to the finish line.

“Fuck just like that baby.” Satoru encouraged you, giving you a new sense of purpose as you threw in a light roll to your hips. You both shuddered, for you stimulated him more and he hit that lovely spongey spot that connected right to your clit.

“S-Satoru–” You bit your lip as your stomach began clenching, your orgasm threatening to wash over you. You were panting so heavily you were afraid you were going to pass out, but you continued fucking him due to his soft moans of your name filling your ears.

“That’s right, be a good girl and cum on my cock.” he lifted his head, watching your bodies meet over and over again. Your toes curled, and that pit in your stomach was so tight, everything began to feel so good.

“Fuck, you’re so tight, baby. Go ahead, use me to feel good.”

Satoru’s words were your undoing.

You came hard all around him. Your walls spasming, clenching, and unclenching, drawing out pleasurable waves of white-hot fire throughout your entire body. Satoru came too, you felt his cock throb inside you and he held your hips down, spilling his warm seed deep inside your pussy. Your entire body was shaking uncontrollably and you couldn’t see a damn thing, if it wasn’t for his strong hands steadying you, you would’ve fallen over.

The room was filled with your mixed pants. You rubbed his arms and he rubbed your jelly-like legs, a silent comfort you gave to each other. The two of you stayed like that for a moment, simply just trying to catch your breaths and let the heat ebb from your blood.

But it didn’t. You were still grossly horny and he was still painfully hard, deep inside your wet warmth.

“You’re too good at that,”

He finally said, brushing some of the hair out of your face, hand tracing the contours of your chest. You smiled at his words, leaning down shakily and pressing a soft kiss against his cheek.

“Mm, I could say the same about you,” you murmured dreamily into him, earning yourself a chuckle.

“Oh baby, you haven’t seen anything yet.” You pulled your head back, meeting the challenge of his eyes with your own.

“Show me then,” His cock twitched at your words, making you smirk. Slowly, he eased himself out of you. You allowed your back to hit the mattress whereas he padded off the closet in his room.

You shifted anxiously, feeling some of his seed spill between your legs. Curiosity getting the better of you, you looked over to where Satoru was and he was walking toward you with ropes.

Oh.

He sat at the edge of the bed, a sudden serious expression on his face when he looked at you.

“Let’s make a safe word,” gently, he took your hand, pressing his lips to your knuckles. You shifted so you could look at him and take his face in your hands. You could see he was anxious – afraid. Perhaps he’s gone too far in the past, but you weren’t going to pry.

“Hm let’s see… I think pineapple will do. However,” you paused to press a kiss to his lips.

“I think you’ll find I don’t break easily.” he smiled into your kiss, tongue running along the swell of your bottom lip. You bit his tongue playfully, laughing when he gave you a surprised yelp.

Satoru laid your body down, lips teasing yours, as his hands found one wrist, beginning to tie a rope around it. Soon he repeated the motion to your other wrist and he pulled away from the kiss, a string of saliva connecting your lips.

He smiled down at you then removed himself from your body to tie the ends of the ropes to separate ends of the headboard, rendering you helpless. Once he was done, he plucked his blindfold off the bed and smirked down at you, eyes raking over your figure.

“Look at you,” he sighed appreciatively, finger ghosting over your torso. You shivered, goosebumps decorating your skin due to your body being sensitive from your previous orgasm. His hand then wrapped around your cheeks, forcing your eyes to meet his possessive stare.

“Mine,” he whispered, nails lightly digging into your skin.

“Yours,” you answered, familiar heat pooling in your stomach.

Satoru smiled and then placed the blindfold over your eyes, filling your world with black. You couldn’t see anything. All you could do was listen to the sound of your anxious breaths and pounding heart. With a tug, you tried pulling on your restraints, rope rubbing against the tender flesh of your wrists.

“I have to admit,” Satoru’s low voice purred, finger swirling around your belly button, causing you to nearly jump out of your skin.

“When I met you last night, I wanted nothing more than to do this.” his warm hands ran the length of your arms, making you shudder. You were sensitive, too sensitive.

“See, I thought about tying you up and fucking you till you apologized for teasing me. But,” he dragged his finger up your entrance, pressing the warm digit down on your clit. You had to chew on your bottom lip to stop the cry from escaping your throat.

“I think you’re just as bad as me. Too much stamina, too bored, never satisfied.” that same finger gently worked your bundle of nerves, slowly coaxing it out of its hood.

“If you’re good and do as you’re told, I’ll reward you and let you cum. If you don’t,” he pulled his finger away, making you whimper.

“Then I'll bring you close, over and over again until you’re crying and begging me to stop.” he spread your legs wide and you heard him suck in his breath. Everything was heightened, just the feeling of his hands on your thighs felt like fire.

“Use your words, baby,” he prodded your entrance with his tip and you moaned, your body already begging to have him fill you.

“I’ll do as I am told,” You promised, squeezing your eyes shut.

“Good girl,”

He entered you in one swift movement, tearing a curse from your throat. Satoru didn’t give you any adjustment time as he pulled his hips back and snapped them right back into you, causing you to wrap your fingers around the rope, hanging on for dear life.

You could truly feel him now. Your senses have been heightened, and since your legs weren’t doing the work you felt like you could feel every vein that ran his length. He stretched and filled you, creating that satisfying friction that made your walls clench around his cock. You felt the bounce of your breasts and the slap of his balls on your ass. Your entire body felt like it was on fire and you were a moaning mess, filling the room with your voice and obscene wet noises.

“Your pussy takes my cock so well,” he praised, grabbing your knee and throwing it over his shoulder. You shuddered, at this angle, he was hitting even deeper in you causing tears to prick your eyes. The rope began to burn the flesh of your palms, but you ignored it entirely– completely lost in the feeling of him railing the absolute fuck out of you.

“Aw, y/n don’t hide your pretty noises. I want you to cry for me,” for emphasis, he sped up his pace and thumbed your clit. His name left your lips in prayer and you felt like a nuclear bomb was building inside your stomach. Every muscle was tense but loose at the same time. You couldn’t think, you can’t breathe. Tears wet the blindfold obscuring your vision, and you were grateful for the fabric.

“Fuck. You’re fucking me so fucking good,” you praised him between ruthless thrusts, tightening your leg down against his shoulder. His thumb on your clit was making you see stars, it felt so good but it was also overwhelming.

“Yeah? You like taking my dick like a slut?” he asked, taking your leg off his shoulder and then placing both your feet against his chest. Nothing could’ve prepared you for the way he folded you, hitting that spot deep inside your pussy.

“Y-Yes!” you scream, body shaking violently as you started to become incredibly hot.

“Yes what, y/n? I told you to use your words.”

Suddenly his fingers were in your mouth and down your throat, preventing you from speaking.

“Mmph. I–” You tried you speak, but you felt saliva pool down your chin. Satoru remove his other hand from your clit and you whimpered from the loss of contact, that promise of pleasure leaving with it.

Fuck.

“I told you to use your words, baby,” he sighed, slowing down his movements, pressing a kiss to your knee. Then your legs were off his shoulders along with his cock and fingers. You were completely disorientated, not knowing what to do with yourself because you were stuck and blind.

“On your knees,”

You moved to his command, awkwardly scooting back on the bed till you had enough space to sit on your knees. You felt his hand in your hair, tightly pulling on your strands to tilt your head up.

“What’d you do wrong?” he asked, slapping something warm against your lips. You ran your tongue against your bottom lip, discerning it was his cock due to the taste of your mixed pleasure.

“I didn’t use my words,” you bit your lip, controlling the urge to take him in your mouth. He tugged on your hair, making you release your lip.

“I’m going to use your pretty mouth till you learn your lesson, understand?” his voice was so low and seductive, it went straight to your groin, making you shift slightly.

“Yes, I understand.”

Satoru let go of your hair to grab your face, forcing your mouth open. You made a show of poking your tongue out, a sign that you wanted him. You hear him suck in air, then his warmth entered your mouth and you fully tasted your combined lust.

Moaning around him, you hollowed out your cheeks, swirling your tongue around his head. You moved your neck forward, swallowing more of his length, choking slightly as he slid down your esophagus. Satoru placed his hand around your throat, feeling himself go down your throat.

You slurped and choked on him, moving your head violently up and down, adding a roll to your motion for more friction. His soft moans filled your ears, giving you the motivation to please him, sucking harder towards the head, sliding your tongue into the slit, tasting him. You couldn’t breathe, not really. You tried inhaling every time you pulled your head back far enough, but Satoru only pushed his hips forward, forcing you to take him back in again.

“Mm, I love seeing you on your knees for me.” You moaned at his praise, picking up your pace as tears streamed down your face, blindfold now soaked.

“Just like that baby, you’re doing so good.” you could hear that his voice was becoming more strained and you felt his cock tighten in your mouth, base twitching with every suck.

Then his hands were in your hair, pushing his entire length down your throat making your nose come into contact with his stomach. He came into your mouth violently, cock twitching in your mouth. The salty yet sweet taste of him coated your tongue and you moaned, letting him know that you were pleased. He rubbed loving circles into your scalp as he stayed there for a moment, letting himself come down from his high.

“Good girl,” he breathed, pulling his cock out of your mouth, allowing you to swallow his seed while greedily taking air back into your starved lungs.

He hummed and his warm finger traced your hot, swollen lips. You coughed lightly, but smiled up at him, or where you assumed he was.

“Time for your reward, y/n. Turn around and grab the headboard.” You blindly turned around and he guided your hands to the headboard. You became instantly grateful because some of the bite from the rope eased.

You felt Satoru shift, then there was warm air being breathed on your heat as his hair tickled your thighs.

“Sit on my face baby, and don’t hide your noises.”

“O-okay, I won’t” you promise, feeling shy.

Your legs were already shaking, the memory of earlier playing in your head as you slowly lowered yourself to his face. You held back some of your weight, fearful of suffocating him. But his tongue entered your cunt and he grabbed your hips, forcing your full weight down, nose swiping your clit.

You moaned loudly, fingers gripping the headboard as Satoru wasted no time in pleasing you. He grabbed your ass, finger playing with your asshole as he tongue fucked you, shaking his head so his nose stimulated your clit. The tension left your body and you became a puddle.

“Satoru, mm, fuck,” words were impossible to describe what you were feeling. It was due to not being able to see and the earlier intensity. Everything felt so good, it felt right. Satoru slapped your ass, making your back arch and your toes curl.

You pressed your forehead against the fabric of the headboard, moaning and cursing as you allowed yourself to surrender to him. You wanted to touch him, to see his face, but you couldn’t and it was driving you mad. All you could do was squeeze your eyes shut and feel.

You could feel your orgasm approach, that earlier bomb getting ready to explode in the pit of your stomach. Your body was shaking so much that you were funneling all your strength into the headboard, trying not to fall. Then Satoru moved his mouth to your clit and his fingers replaced his tongue. It was all you needed to be pushed over the cliff.

At the second pump of his fingers, you came. It was both pleasurable and painful. Somehow more intense than your previous, with your stomach clenching so hard as your walls spasmed. Your body shuddered violently, but he didn’t stop, he continued fucking you and sucking on your bundle of nerves. You were mewling loudly, so overstimulated that you began pulling on your restraints. You tried to ask him to stop, but you couldn’t, the only thing that could leave your mouth was strangled cries. You tried lifting your hips, but his hand held you down, continuing to both please and punishing you.

“Satoru, Satoru. I– Ah, please– Fuck– Please.” he simply flattened his tongue on you, shaking his head as he hummed, voice vibrating on you. You were crying, the overwhelming pleasure becoming too much as your body gave out on you.

You felt Satoru smile against you and then finally he stopped, lifting your body and pulling his face out from under you with the last drag of his tongue. You were shaking, hands still on the headboard as you felt your heat drip between your spread legs.

“You taste so good, y/n.” Satoru snaked a hand around your waist, bringing your ass up as he pressed your face against the headboard. You whimpered when he pushed his still-hard cock against your entrance.

You felt a tug and then suddenly you could see. You blinked aggressively, trying to readjust to your surroundings. Your eyes found Satoru’s and you blushed. He was looking at you like you were the most beautiful thing in the world. But he also looked crazed, with his eyes dilated, lips swollen and wet, and hair a mess.

“I missed your eyes,” he sighed, pressing his tip into you. He ran his hands over the length of your spine then finally let them settle on your hips. You felt both numb and sensitive like every touch was fire, but you felt it from a distance. Your legs were already shaking, sheer pride and will were your fuel at this point.

“You can do it one more time, can’t you baby? For me?”

I will not be the only one who’s teased. Let’s see if my guess is correct.

“Yes, I can Daddy,”

Your guess was right because Satoru snapped his hips into you at your words. Your walls readily accepted him, greedily sucking in his cock, soaking him with your wet heat.

“You’re so fucking perfect, y/n. I don’t think you understand.”

A slap to your ass.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to let you go,”

Another slap, you whimpered, back arching as the hazy pleasure kissed your nerves. His eyes didn’t leave yours, even with your blurred vision and half-smushed face rubbing against the headboard.

“Yeah? Are you too obsessed with me now?” you tease, words strained, saliva thick in your throat.

“You’re mine. They can’t have you.” he snapped his hips up, hitting your spot, just for emphasis.

“Hate to break it to you handsome, I am no one’s property.” even with your ass bouncing and slapping against his hips and half your ear covered, you could hear him lightly laugh.

“You said you were mine earlier,” he reminded, coating his thumb with his saliva, then pushing it into your asshole, making you curse.

“At this moment, I am yours.” your voice was pathetic to your own ears, with it barely being above a quivering whisper.

The heat was licking your spine now, that growing pleasure slowly returning to your stomach. Satoru leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours. The angle made it hard to breathe, but you didn’t care. The kiss was desperate as if the two of you couldn’t be any closer. You moaned sweetly into his mouth as he let up his pace, now rolling his hips into you at a more loving pace.

He removed his lips from yours and kissed your spine, breathing heavily into your heated flesh. You weren’t any better, with your chest heaving and sweat coating every inch of your body. Your walls appreciated the change of pace because you could feel the slow climb of your high.

You matched his pace, rolling your hips with his, earning yourself a moan from his lips. The two of you moved in unison, moaning each other's names, getting lost in the feeling of each other. He filled, stretched, and stimulated you so well to the point you think sex will be ruined for you after him.

“You feel so good,” he whimpered into you, and you hummed.

“You gonna cum for me Daddy?” you felt him twitch and it filled you with pride, knowing what made this man weak. Somehow, the fact that you were pleasing him made you feel good, heightening your own pleasure.

“I’m gonna fill your tight little pussy with my cum,” he sighed, movements becoming increasingly more erratic as he approached his high. His hands refound your hips, digging into them as he sucked harshly on the nape of your neck. You shivered against him, your own pleasure threatening you for the third time this evening.

“Mm Satoru, I’m close!” you moaned loudly legs shaking, back arching, and velvet walls tightening. You didn’t think this would happen, due to your overstimulation, but you were at that cliff, dangerously close to diving in head first.

“Be a good girl and cum all over Daddy’s cock,” he grunted, hand slapping your ass.

Again, as if his words were law, your body obeyed, convulsing all around him, taking him into the euphoric bliss with you. His hands came up to grip the headboard as he halted, burying himself deep inside your pussy, filling you as promised. You were a complete mess, whispering his name repeatedly as hot tears kissed your burning skin. Satoru kissed your temple, over and over again, letting both of your highs wash over you.

“You did so good baby,” he whispered against you, taking his hand a smoothing it down your hair. You both were breathing heavily as your bodies shook, and you were sure you couldn’t speak. So to respond, you smiled lightly, nuzzling your head against his.

He leaned your bodies back, so you were sitting on his thighs with your back to his chest. He kissed your shoulder and began untying your wrists. Once the last knots were undone, your hands fell limply to your sides, wrists raw from the earlier friction. You sighed happily, leaning your head back, and cuddling into Satoru’s shoulder.

“Shower?” he asked into your hair, massaging your shoulders gently. You smiled, running your hands over his muscular thighs.

“If I can walk,” you half-joke. Your legs felt like Jello. You felt if you tried to walk, you’d simply fall straight down.

Satoru chuckled into you and then gently slid his arm under your knees.

“Wrap your arms around my neck gorgeous,”

You humored him and did as you were asked, placing light kisses on his neck while drinking in your mixed scents. He lifted your body with ease, pulling himself out of you as he made his way to the bathroom. You hardly registered him putting you on the toilet. The only reason you opened your eyes is because you felt the cold toilet seat kiss your bruised skin.

“Pee, I don’t want you getting an UTI.” he pushed some hair out of your face then kissed your forehead, turning away from you to turn on the shower. You had to put some effort into peeing, but once you did you heard a ‘plop’ noise followed by your stream.

That’s embarrassing.

You thought to yourself, running your hands over your arms. You snuck a peek of yourself in the mirror and you gaped.

Hickeys covered your neck, chest, and stomach. Your hair was a disaster, and your face was deeply flushed. It was as if you had fallen asleep in the sun. You peaked at Satoru, he was organizing your products neatly so his back was towards you. You could make out some of your own marks you left on his neck and you mentally cursed.

If we both show up like this tomorrow it’s going to be so obvious.

You finished up and padded your way over to Satoru, wrapping your hands around his waist and giving his cute butt a loving pinch.

“Hey!” he playfully shouted, turning in your arms and giving you a sly smile. You could now see the nail marks you carved into his shoulders and chest. Despite yourself, you felt proud, knowing one way or another, you claimed the Strongest Sorcerer as your own.

“I never took you for the doting housewife type.” you hum, planting a soft kiss on his chest, right over your scratches.

“There’s a lot about me you’ll learn,” he kissed your head, then lead your bodies into the shower. He held your hands as you stepped over the edge of the tub, careful to steady your body.

“That sounds like I’m going to see you on a personal level again,” you smile, happy to find he too enjoys piping hot water in showers. Your muscles relaxed and you closed your eyes, allowing yourself to melt in his arms under the soothing rain.

“Why wouldn’t you?” there was no hurt in his words, just curiosity.

“I said you didn’t seem like the committed type.” you reminded him, but the words stung now. You didn’t want to walk away from him. But you’re also not one to beg.

“If I told you I wanted to pursue you, would you believe me?” you ran your hands over his arms, thinking of how to respond.

“I would say you’re crazy. Considering who holds my leash, and knowing I’ll be running away the second my contract ends.” he laughed lightly, strong hands breaking down the knots in your lower back.

“I can’t say being with me would be great all the time. But, I can hold my own, and I can protect you. Say the word, and I’ll keep them away from you.” he pulled back from your embrace and took your face in his hands, thumbs rubbing against your cheeks.

Protect me…?

You were thankful for the water cascading down your face because your tears fell without warning.

“They won’t be able to touch you. You’ll be free, y/n. I won’t tell you to go back. I’ll fight with you.”

Smiling, you took his face in your hands and kissed him, expressing physically where your words failed you. You tangled your fingers into his wet hair, kissing him all over his face repeatedly.

“Thank you, Satoru.” you sob and he smiles, continuing to soothe you as you cry while smiling.

It won’t be easy, but you’ll be free.

You held each other for a while, enjoying each other's comforts, smiling like idiots in the warm rain. It was a new beginning for you, one that was uncertain, but you would happily run toward it a never look back.

264 notes · View notes