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vnti-vnxiety-recs · 3 months ago

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Team Spirit! (M)

★ PAIRING: Jaemin x cheerleader! Reader

☆ WORD COUNT: 8.5k

★ GENRE(S): smut, fluff, pwp

☆ SUMMARY: Clingy boyfriend Jaemin joins the cheer team to get closer to his girlfriend. You aren’t happy because you know he only joined to fuck you. He swears he didn't join for that reason (he did)

★ ☆ WARNINGS: unprotected sex, degradation, light slapping, swearing, rough sex

☆★ NOTES: I have been obsessed with cheerleader Jaemin since this tweet. I was a cheerleader like once in elementary school, so I winged it. Enjoy!

“We need to hurry, or Coach is going to kill me!” you protest, glancing nervously down the long, dimly lit corridor as Jaemin drags you along. The empty hallways of the gymnasium echo with the sound of your footsteps.

“Don’t rush me; I barely get to see you anymore,” Jaemin murmurs, glancing back at you with a playful smile. He halts in front of a sturdy supply closet, testing the handle with hopeful fingers, but it creaks in protest, remaining locked. After a few moments of searching, you finally discover a door that opens, revealing a small, cluttered room filled with unused equipment and old cheerleading mats.

You’d been in the midst of cheer practice when Jaemin had appeared, smoothie in hand and a teasing glint in his eye as he claimed he was there for “encouragement.” You knew better; he was just finding an excuse to steal a few moments with you. He was undeniably a clingy boyfriend, but you didn’t mind at all. You didn’t mind as long as it wasn’t competition season. As cheer captain, you had to dedicate extra hours to perfect your routines, which meant you hadn’t spent as much time with Jaemin as he would’ve liked.

Without warning, he pushes you into the room and pins your back against the door, leaning in for a passionate kiss with a hunger that sends a thrill down your spine. You can feel warmth radiating from his body as he presses against you, his hands exploring your body. Soon his rough hands grip your bare thighs, the spandex shorts you wore to practice, leaving little to the imagination.

You instinctively wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, your heart racing in sync with the urgency of his touch. You love it when he gets like this—intensity clouding his usual calm demeanor. There’s an animalistic need in his hands and lips, and as you kiss him back with equal fervor, you can’t help but feel exhilarated by the moment. Lately, it seemed as if he was overflowing with desire, as if not tasting you would be the death of him. The heat in the room, the thrill of being hidden away, and the intoxicating electricity between you made it clear how much you both craved these stolen moments together.

You reluctantly pull away from Jaemin’s lips, trying to catch your breath. “Jaem, I have to go back,” you manage to say, but he responds swiftly, reconnecting your lips before you can finish.

“I’m serious,” you protest, trying to pull back again, but he isn’t having it. “your not listening”. You mumble against his lips.

He buries his face in your neck and presses his hips into yours, causing an intoxication friction. You whine out, resolve fading quickly. “You don’t understand,” you groan, but even you can hear the lack of conviction in your voice. It’s hard to think straight when he’s like this, his presence overwhelming, holding you captive in a whirlwind of feeling.

“Just a little bit longer, please,” he begs, his voice low and pleading as his hands grip your hips, trying to pull you impossibly closer. "Fuck,” he moans into your skin as he dry-humps you like a dog in heat.

“Alright, that’s enough,” you say firmly, pulling his head back by his hair. “Down. Now,” you command.

As much as you would love to stay here with Jaemin, the thought of facing whatever cruel and unusual punishment your coach would devise for you if you were late back from break for the third time this week sends a shiver down your spine.

You catch a glimpse of disappointment flickering in his eyes as he reluctantly pulls away, breaking the spell between you. “I’ll make it up to you later, I promise,” you say, your voice hopefull.

He gives you a soft nod, a hint of a smile returning to his lips as he helps you smooth your hair and adjusts your outfit. You both exit the room, the atmosphere still crackling with unresolved tension.

You hurry back down the hallway, your heart racing, and manage to slip into the practice room just seconds before your coach bursts in, the door swinging open with a heavy thud behind her.

"Alright, where we left off!

You strolled toward the gym, the warm spring weather embracing you as you wore shorts and a tank top. The sun beat down on your back, but you didn’t mind. With a refreshing swig from your sports bottle, you adjusted your cheer bag higher on your shoulder. Soon, fall would arrive, and you couldn’t help but feel a surge of excitement at the thought.

Fall was more than just a beautiful backdrop; it was your favorite season for all the excitement it brought. You loved the way the world transformed into a tapestry of warm hues, but what truly made your heart race was the arrival of competition season for cheerleading. You could already picture the adrenaline-fueled practices and the thrill of showcasing your hard work on the mat. This season felt like a fresh start, full of promise and unforgettable moments waiting to unfold.

Today was open tryouts, and with only a few spots available, the decision-making process was bound to be challenging. You knew that choosing who would make the cut could mean letting go of some promising talent. You pushed open the doors to the gym, spotting a few members already setting some practice mats up.

“Hey, Nayeon!” you called out to your co-captain, who was busy overseeing the preparations as Coach Kim stepped outside. “How many do we have to potentially show?” You set your cheer bag down with a thud.

Nayeon flipped through the clipboard in her hands, deep in thought. “Maybe five? Seven?” she replied before finally settling on a number. Then, with a slight smile, she added, “Also, you’re not going to be too happy about who shows up.”

“It doesn’t matter; we need all the help we can get,” you shrugged, determined to keep a positive outlook. Last season had been tough after losing a few teammates, and it had taken a toll on your routines. You just wanted to get things rolling again.

“Alright, don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Nayeon replied, shaking her head slightly.

Once everything was set up, all you had to do was wait. Tryouts officially started at 9 a.m. The first girl walked in at 8:30 and greeted you, Nayeon, and Coach Kim as you all sat at the folding table in the center of the gym. With no one else around yet, it felt like the perfect opportunity to chat one-on-one with her. You smiled, noting her potential. There was something admirable about her drive; arriving early was a smart move if she wanted to stand out.

You put a star next to her name: Park Soo-young.

After another 30 minutes, a few more people started to filter into the gym. You were pretty satisfied with the turnout so far—there were about ten hopefuls waiting. You decided to wait an extra five minutes for anyone else who might want to join, and just as you were about to begin, the door swung open again. In walked Jaemin. You sent him a quick smile before turning back to the group, feeling a little more energized now that he was there to watch the tryouts. You adored how he supported everything you did.

Your coach began the introductions, and you glanced over at Jaemin, surprised to see him standing so close to the group. Normally, he would settle into the bleachers. You shot him a stern look, hoping to indicate he was interrupting, but he ignored you, remaining where he was and listening intently to your coach.

As everyone took turns introducing themselves—each one making an effort to impress—you couldn’t shake the feeling of annoyance nagging at you. Then, to your disbelief, Jaemin decided to introduce himself too.

He wouldn’t.

After the introductions, Coach Kim had the group do warm-ups, and you and Nayeon moved to the floor to lead them. You tried your best not to be distracted, but you couldn’t help but steal glances at Jaemin as he followed along, effortlessly keeping up with the exercises.

Once the warm-ups were complete, you and Nayeon introduced the group to a few cheers, a short dance routine, and some basic jumps. While some trainees struggled to keep pace, Jaemin seemed to pick everything up with ease. You were pleasantly surprised at how good he was; you didn’t recall him ever mentioning having a background in dance or gymnastics.

Next came the individual evaluations, allowing you more one-on-one time to interact with the trainees. You already had your favorites in mind, ready to advocate for them to join the team. At the top of your list was Soo-young, who had mentioned she preferred to be called Joy. After your conversation with her, you found yourself even more impressed. She had a great attitude and an eagerness to learn that you knew would fit perfectly with the team's dynamic.

As much as you hated to admit it, Jaemin had made it onto your list—albeit at the bottom. You weren’t sure if he was joking or if he was genuinely serious about joining the team. He had never expressed any interest in being part of it before, but you knew he wouldn’t play around with something so important to you. When your eyes met again, he shot you a confident smile.

You dismissed the floor for a break while you and Nayeon spoke with Coach Kim. As you discussed your picks, you found that most of your choices aligned.

“I really like that Jaemin kid,” Coach Kim said. “He’s got a great attitude and a solid build; we could definitely use him as a spotter.”

At the mention of his name, you bristled. If Jaemin was chosen and didn’t follow through, it would reflect poorly on you as cheer captain.

“I’m going to head to the bathroom while they’re on break,” you announced, your tone casual but your mind racing with thoughts.

Coach Kim didn’t look up from her notes, merely giving you a nod. Nayeon shot you a knowing look that confirmed she understood exactly where you were headed.

You stepped outside and quickly spotted your target. Once you were far enough from the gym door to avoid any prying ears, you let out a stern, "NA JAEMIN!"

He turned around at the sound of his name, flashing what he probably thought was his most charming "I’m innocent" smile. A mix of exasperation and disbelief washed over you as he approached, looking completely unfazed.

“Quiet,” you said, shooting him a glare that could have silenced anyone else, but only seemed to amuse him further. Jaemin leaned in slightly, his smile widening, clearly enjoying the banter despite the tension. You took a deep breath, trying to regain your composure. “We need to talk about you and this cheer team.”

“Ah,” he says, like he forgot something “I should have told you i was coming to try outs but I wanted to surprise you,” He shot you another charming smile, the kind that usually melted your frustration, but today, it only deepened your irritation.

“You know that's not what I mean,” you said, your tone turning serious. Jaemin straightened up at the look on your face. “If this is some sort of silly plan to spend more time with me, you’ll definitely find yourself in the doghouse.”

“I—” he began, momentarily at a loss for words.

You could tell he was definitely using this as a way to be closer to you. A part of you found it endearing; his eagerness to share experiences with you was cute. But cheerleading was important to you, and his joining the team simply because you were on it felt like it undermined the efforts of everyone else who worked hard to earn their spots.

“I wanted to join the team to spend more time with you,” he admitted, and you opened your mouth to scold him. But he cut you off, rushing to finish, “But! But! I’m serious about putting in the work to earn my spot. I’m not going to just up and quit, I promise. I’ve always thought your practices looked fun!”

“Jaemin, you mostly come to my practices to watch me jump around in a short skirt. Let’s not lie,” you rolled your eyes.

“Okay, that’s also true,” he conceded, “but I’m serious! Give me a shot! What do I have to do to prove it?” He begged, his eyes wide and pleading.

He was wielding the saddest puppy dog eyes you had ever seen, and though you wanted to stay angry, he knew your weaknesses all too well.

“Ughhhhhh,” you groaned, and his smile widened as he sensed victory. “Fine! I swear, Jaemin, if you slack off for even a second, I'll kick your ass—not only as your girlfriend but also as your captain.”

“Oooh, my captain? That sounds kind of hot,” he joked, trying to lighten the mood.

You shot him a glare. “You think I’m playing? Okay, bet. You want to spend time with me? Fine, but no sex until after competitions.”

His face fell at your words, and you turned to head back to the gym, satisfied with your decision.

It was officially the first day of practice, and you were determined to make your new teammates feel welcomed. As they walked in, you greeted each of them with a smile, trying to ease any nerves they might have had. With only five spots available, the selection process had been intense, and after careful consideration, you were thrilled with the choices. Joy was your flyer, with Yeji and Jisoo as the two bases, and Shotaro and Jaemin as your two spotters.

You felt grateful that Shotaro made the team; his bright personality was infectious, and you had no doubt he would lift everyone’s spirits. But you couldn’t deny the excitement bubbling in your chest at having Jaemin on the team. He wasn’t the only one missing the quality time you two used to spend together. Still, anxiety gnawed at you as well. There were so many things that could go wrong, and you wouldn’t be able to keep an eye on him every second. As captain, you needed to lead the team, not babysit. You could only hope he was taking this seriously.

Jaemin had a crucial role—if he messed up or half-heartedly approached any stunt, someone could end up getting injured. That reality weighed heavily on your mind, especially knowing he had to be responsible for both the safety of the stunt group and the flyer.

As practice began, your coach introduced the new members and then called them over to have their sizes taken for uniforms. You couldn’t help but internally squeal at the thought. Jaemin would look so cute in his uniform, and the thought made your heart flutter. You glanced over at him as he laughed with Shotaro, and you felt a surge of pride. Jaemin had a carefree demeanor and a smile that lit up the room.

“Alright, team!” you called, your voice authoritative yet encouraging. “Let’s have a great first practice! Remember, communication is key, and safety comes first. Don’t be afraid to ask for help or speak up if something doesn’t feel right.”

“I mean, he’s keeping up, so what’s the problem?” Nayeon said, taking a bite out of her fries. You sat in the campus café, surrounded by your friends, as their voices raised in an animated debate.

Jaemin had joined the squad just a week ago, and though his intentions had been clear to everyone, he insisted they were purely to support you—his girlfriend.

“But he’s only here because his girlfriend is cheer captain,” Seungkwan argued, crossing his arms defiantly.

Seungkwan was not just your fellow teammate but also a good friend. Right now, he had his sights set on Jaemin and was pressing you hard about his place on the team.

“Kwan, come on! He’s taking practice seriously. Give him a chance!” you defended your boyfriend, feeling a surge of frustration.

“I don’t like this! He’s not even committed to the team; he’s just committed to you!” Seungkwan shot back, his tone firm.

You hated arguing with him because—let’s be honest—he often had a point. He didn't easily back down, and you respected that about him, even if it made things more complicated.

“Can we just drop it? He’s on the team now, whether you like it or not.” Nayeon rolled her eyes, trying to intervene.

“I’m just saying spotters are crucial, and Coach will not allow us to compete without everyone spotted. You know how she is about safety.” Seungkwan crossed his arms tighter, clearly not backing down.

Point for Seungkwan. You sighed, trying to compose your thoughts.

“I understand that, and I agree! But I know Jaemin. He’s capable, and he cares about this. He’s not just here for fun—he wants to prove himself.” You took a deep breath, hoping to quell the tension brewing around the table. “Besides, if there’s ever been a time where we could support each other, it’s now.

Seungkwan softened a little but still looked unconvinced. “I just want what’s best for the team. If he fails to keep up with the rest of us… it could put everyone in danger.”

“I get it,” you replied earnestly. “But I really think Jaemin is taking this seriously. He might surprise you.”

Nayeon reached out and squeezed your hand in solidarity. “Look, let’s just give him a shot. If he doesn’t work out, we can revisit this conversation later. No need to stress about it now.”

You appreciated Nayeon's attempt to lighten the mood, but Seungkwan was still shaking his head. “Fine. But if anything goes wrong during practice, I’m holding you both accountable.”

You met up with Jaemin later that day at his dorm, and the moment you walked in, his bright smile washed over you like a warm blanket, pulling you out of the slump caused by your earlier argument with your friends.

“So, how was I today at practice?” he asked, his eyes sparkling with anticipation as he awaited any critique.

“Honestly, you were pretty great! Most of the team loves you; I think they're impressed, but—”

“But?” he prompted, his expression shifting slightly from excitement to curiosity.

“Jaemin, please promise to take this seriously.”

“I told you already, I am serious,” he replied, a hint of concern creeping into his voice.

“I know, I know. I'm just nervous,” you admitted, biting your lip.

He moved closer and pulled you into his embrace, cradling you tightly against him. He kissed the top of your head, and the warmth of his presence made your heart calm. “I know I joined on impulse, but I'm serious about this and even more serious about you. I won’t let you down,” he comforted you, his voice steady and soothing.

“Pinky?” you asked, raising your pinky finger playfully.

“Promise,” he chuckled, intertwining his pinky with yours in a solemn gesture that meant everything to you. “Alright, enough about practice. Want to watch a movie?” he asked, as he pulled out his laptop and set up his bed for optimal cuddling.

“Of course,” you replied, settling in comfortably under his sheets.

You had to give the man some credit. You had never seen Jaemin so focused at practice. He took his role as a spotter seriously, and there hadn’t been any accidents under his watch. Jaemin and Shotaro worked seamlessly together, and you were grateful he’d formed a connection with someone else on the team. It was good to see him thriving in this way.

You thought he would struggle to keep his hands off you, but Jaemin was managing just fine. Surprisingly, it was you who found it difficult to maintain your composure. Jaemine looked so sexy during practice and now you could easily understand all the times he would drag you away to get frisky in the back rooms of the gym.

Spotters call the shot during the stunt as they have a better vision of the overall stunt compared to the flyers and bases and Jaemin was hot when he was shouting commands. By the end of practice, he’d be dripping with sweat and panting for breath, and you had to pinch yourself several times just to regain your focus.

Today was a challenge. The uniforms had come in for the newbies and you had followed Jaemin into the office to grab his size. With the locker room empty from your early arrival, you didn’t think twice about sneaking in behind him as he went to try it on.

The spandex cropped long-sleeve fit him deliciously tight, accentuating every curve of his toned body. His pecs were visible through the fabric, and the cropped design left just a sliver of his abdomen exposed—making it hard to look away. The matching bottoms clung to his thighs in a way that made you feel a pang of desire.

You needed him. Now. Your heart raced as you fought the urge to step closer, to feel the warmth of his body against yours. Every fantasy you had been nursing flared to life in an instant, and you struggled to maintain your composure, the urge to take action overwhelming.

He catches your lustful stare and shakes his head in playful disapproval. “Eyes up here, babe,” he warns, his tone light but with an undeniable edge of confidence.

You don’t even reply, still ogling him no better than a man would. “Turn around for me,” you tease.

He shoots you a smile, a mix of pride and amusement dancing in his eyes, and complies. You watch as he turns, showcasing the fitted uniform that hugs him in all the right places.

“How do I look?” he asks, glancing at himself in the mirror.

"Like I’ill have to fight someone who stares for too long," you say, and Jaemin laughs, not realizing how serious you are.

You had never imagined what Jaemin would look like in a cheer uniform before, and honestly, you were grateful. No image you had tried to conjure in your mind could ever come close to this.

“Come here, baby,” you say, your voice dripping with a sultry lilt.

“Practice starts soon; we need to start warming up,” he replies, but there’s a hint of uncertainty in his tone. You can tell the resolve isn’t truly there. Jaemin was an even nastier dog than you when it came to fulfilling his needs. As he stands there, the tension thick between you, you can practically see him weighing his options, the desire flickering in his eyes in perfect sync with your own

“They can wait. I need some one on one you” you smirk before standing up from the bench you were previously sitting on.

You close the distance between you, pushing him up against the lockers with a playful urgency. Jaemin looks down at you, a knowing smirk playing on his lips that suggests you might have just stepped right into his trap. The confidence radiating from him makes your heart race, and you can sense the shift in power; he knows he’s the one leading this dance, and you’re more than willing to follow his lead. The moment hangs between you, electric and charged.

“What about competitions? I thought you said I had to wait,” he replies. The challenge in his gaze is hard to ignore.

"Just stop talking, Jaem," you say, rolling your eyes as you lean in, capturing his lips with yours. The sensation sends a thrill through you, as you find yourselves chest to chest. He wastes no time in wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you even closer. With a loud rattle, your back collides with the lockers, and he effortlessly lifts you, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. The kiss is heavy and messy, a tantalizing rush as you both know your time is limited before someone walks in. Fortunately, you're tucked away at the back of the locker room, giving you just enough time to react before anyone sees you.

Jaemin pulls you both away from the lockers and sits down on a nearby bench. You straddle his hips, eager to close the distance between you, and you waste no time grinding against him. A low moan escapes Jaemin as he bites your bottom lip, his gaze fueled with desire as you work him through the thin material of his uniform.

You were wearing sweats that drove you wild, the thick fabric preventing you from feeling him as intimately as you desired. With a sense of urgency, you stand up to undress and as the material slips away, Jaemin practically groans at the sight of you.

“Fuck baby, I need this. I’ve been waiting,” he palms himself, gripping his length through the fabric with a hiss “It's yours,” he promises

It's like the gate holding back your desires suddenly burst open, unleashing a torrent of emotions. You settle back onto him, helping to free him from the confines of his uniform. You were already soaking wet and you cringed a little at the mess you were about to make on his uniform pants but you were too impatient to wait for him to pull them down.

You line him up and sink down, taking all of him. It was like both of you were extra sensitive to each other's touch. Hungry for more, your knees dig painfully into the wood bench as you ride him. The pure blissed-out look on his face made it all worth it. Jaemin wasn't one to moan—his voice usually carried an air of authority. He'd tell you how good you felt and how desperately he wanted you, his deep groans resonating with pleasure but today was different. It was as if he couldn’t utter a single word.

Mouth dropped open in silent moans as he gripped harshly at the skin of your waist. “Fu—” he tried to say but nothing came out.

You lean down, kissing into his open mouth, urging him to kiss you back. You lean back against his knees and grind down dangerously. Jaemin closes his eyes tight at the sensation and his hips rut up into your finally taking control. He holds you down still against him as he thrusts up inside of your tight, dripping cunt. The locker room echoing with his sloppy wet thrusts. He was losing it and you were lucky you had practice after this or he would have thrown you down against the cool floor of the gym and fucked you to tears. A hand reaches out, firm yet surprisingly gentle, gripping your throat with just the right amount of pressure. His fingers dig in softly, and you feel a rush of exhilaration as his gaze pierces through the sweat-soaked strands of his bangs.

“You fucking slut. You teasing fucking slut.” He seems to have finally found his voice: “You're gonna take this fucking dick. Feel that shit”

Too sensative, his words were driving you over the edge and you couldn't help but clench down against him violently. “Just like that baby, let me have it,” he growls.

Jaemin was usually a bit wild, but after being locked up for so long, he couldn't contain himself any longer. There was no sense of decorum as you both made a mess of his uniform and the bench beneath you.

"Do you hear me?" he demands, slapping your cheek lightly—not hard enough to sting, but enough to draw your focus back to him. “Tell me how much you love the way I fuck you”

"Jaemin, Im close,” you whine, tears threatening to spill.

“Thats not what I fucking asked you”

“I love it! Fuck, please let me cum,” you cry, trying to move your hips against him as much as you could, chasing your high.

Muffled chatter echoed from outside the locker room, the team likely filtering in to start the day. You didn’t have much time left.

“Fuck, I got you, baby. I got you,” he groans, speeding up his movements, needing you to finish before you two were caught. You can hear the muffled sounds of teammates gathering outside, their voices rising as they joke and jostle each other. The minutes tick away, each second stretching into eternity as the pressure mounts.

His hand reaches out and rubs your clit harshly before he leaves bites along your chest and neck, knowing it drives you crazy.

You fall over the edge before you know it and you cream all over him. The vice-like grip your core has on him during your orgarm pushes him to his own and he throws his head back with a sound that was a little too loud so you clamp a hand around his mouth. His eyes snap to yours and the eye contact he holds as the tremors from his orgasm wrack his body almost has you cumming again.

You sit in silence for a moment longer, gathering your thoughts, when the door to the locker room swings open and voices spill into the space. Hastily, you scramble to get dressed while Jaemin swiftly adjusts his uniform. Just as you’re putting the finishing touches on your hair, Seungkwan rounds the corner, wearing a curious expression. He studies you for a brief second, his brow furrowing slightly as he takes in the scene.

“You missed warm-ups,” he remarks, tone laced with judgment as he raises an eyebrow.

You screwed up. You would have preferred getting caught by your coach over Seungkwan. He already disapproved of Jaemin being on the team, and now here you were, caught slacking off just as he had predicted.

“I was helping Jaemin with his uniform,” you offer weakly, trying to explain.

Seungkwan's eyes shift to Jaemin, and he gives him a scrutinizing look. “Looks more like you were helping him take it off,” he retorts, rolling his eyes. “Just go change. Naeyeon led warm-ups, but Coach is looking for you.”

Fortunately, Jaemin stays silent throughout Seungkwan's reprimand; any comment from him would only make things worse. Yet, you can't miss the glare he sends Seungkwan's way, a flash of defiance in his eyes.

Seungkwan gave you a proper talking-to after practice that day. Though you regretted nothing that happened between you and Jaemin, you both decided it was for the best to keep your distance during practice. Aside from that, things were going remarkably well. You were landing your routines with ease, and despite new members joining the team late, everyone seemed to gel effortlessly. Even Jaemin and Seungkwan appeared to be getting along better, which was a pleasant surprise.

Everything was going great until it wasn’t.

During a particularly intense practice session, the atmosphere shifted. The air crackled with tension, and you could feel the unease creeping in. It started with a minor mistake from one of the new members during a routine. Their falter caught everyone off guard, leading to an abrupt halt as Seungkwan’s voice rose with frustration. Before long, it escalated into an argument over blame and expectations, and the camaraderie built over the last few weeks began to unravel.

More and more mistakes began to occur on the mat during practice. One day, while attempting a needle, Joy lost her balance. Thankfully, her spotter reacted quickly and caught her before she hit the mat, but in the process, he twisted his ankle. Hanbin, one of your best spotters, was out of commission, and his absence left a noticeable gap in the team's dynamics.

In the wake of Hanbin's injury, Coach Kim decided to appoint Jaemin as Joy’s new spotter. At first, it seemed to restore some normalcy to the team; everyone adapted quickly to the change. However, for you, the situation felt anything but normal.

You had always prided yourself on not being the jealous type. Jaemin had a way of showering you with attention that made it hard to believe you could even possess a jealous bone in your body. Even before he became Joy's spotter, you watched him work with other girls without any feelings of insecurity. What felt different this time was the undeniable chemistry that seemed to spark between Jaemin and Joy.

Perhaps the most difficult part for you was having to avoid Jaemin throughout practice, while he shared warm smiles and easy conversations with someone else. Each laugh he exchanged with Joy felt like a reminder of what you were missing,

Joy was amazing, and you tried your best to shake off any negative feelings you had towards her. She was hard-working, kind, and honest. You trusted her, and even more so, you trusted Jaemin.

Despite the connection that seemed to be forming between him and Joy, you reminded yourself that it was rooted in teamwork and camaraderie, nothing more. You wanted to believe that Jaemin’s warmth and attention were still yours to cherish, regardless of how seamlessly he clicked with others. Yet, every time you saw him share a laugh with Joy, a small part of you struggled to silence the voices of doubt creeping into your mind.

As the captain of the cheer team, you had too much on your plate to let your thoughts linger on jealousy or insecurities. With competitions less than a month away, your focus needed to be on preparing your team, especially after the sudden loss of Hanbin. You could feel the weight of responsibility pressing down on you.

You knew you had to keep morale high while also ensuring everyone was on point with their routines. Each practice was crucial, and you couldn’t afford any distractions—neither from your emotions nor from the situation with Jaemin and Joy.

“You need to pull it together! You’re the captain, and we can’t afford for you to make silly mistakes,” your coach called out, her voice sharp and clear, echoing across the gym floor. You steeled yourself, determined not to let her words shake you.

“Yes, Coach,” you replied, your tone emotionless.

You had messed up the routine after losing your place during a tumble, causing a domino effect as others struggled to find their spots. Deep down, you wanted to argue that it was an honest mistake, but the truth was you had been distracted—distracted by Jaemin and Joy. They were off to the side during your routine, and the way she smiled at him, coupled with the soft smile he returned, made your heart clench painfully. It felt like you were trapped in a cheesy romcom where your boyfriend was the leading man, and you were just an extra in the background.

As more little mistakes crept into your performance during practices, you felt a wave of frustration wash over you. With each misstep, the weight of your responsibilities as captain grew heavier, and it made you feel inadequate. Jaemin had tried to talk to you about it to lift your spirits, but you had shut down his attempts.

Seungkwan corners you during break, and for a moment, you brace yourself for a lecture. Instead, his expression softens, and he opens his arms to you. In an instant, your resolve crumbles, and you step into his embrace. Seungkwan has been one of your best friends for a reason—he knows you better than anyone, able to read your emotions without needing to ask.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks gently.

“It’s so stupid,” you choke out, feeling embarrassed by your own feelings. “I’m letting something so small ruin my performances.”

“Is it Jaemin?” he inquires, his tone laced with understanding.

“I guess I just miss him. I feel so childish—it’s ridiculous. I see him every day after practice, and when he shows attention to someone else, I just lose it.”

You cringe internally at the irony of it all. Not too long ago, you used to scold Jaemin for being clingy, insisting that a few hours of practice wasn’t a big deal and that he needed to learn to be patient. Now, you find yourself grappling with the very feelings you once criticized him for.

“You should talk to him about it. You know he would stop time for you if you asked,” Seungkwan adds his gentle advice. “You’re human. Everyone has feelings, and he’d want to know how you’re feeling.” Seungkwan pulls back slightly, looking you in the eye with that reassuring gaze of his.

“Fine, your right I need to get this straightened out before competitions.”

It was officially fall, and the warm hues of autumn surrounded you, calmed your nerves as you strolled through campus, inhaling the crisp, fresh air. After practice, you made your way home, steeling yourself for the conversation you planned to have with Jaemin later. A hot shower felt like the perfect remedy to ease your tension and clear your mind.

As the steam enveloped you, you reflected on how sweet Jaemin had been these past few weeks, always checking in on you and making sure you felt okay. You realized you owed it to him to be honest about your feelings and let him know what was on your mind.

You had texted Jaemin to let him know you were on the way to his dorm but you didnt get a response. You shrug it off and continue on. You knock on his door and his roommate opens the door.

“What’s up?” Jeno asks, raising an eyebrow in confusion.

“Where’s Jaemin?” you respond, equally puzzled.

“I thought he was with you. He’s still at practice,” Jeno replies, offering you an apologetic shrug.

“Thanks,” you say, your voice coming off a bit more irritably than you intended.

You turn on your heel and head back to the gym, counting backward from ten to calm your nerves. You were being irrational; he was just at practice—practicing. It’s what you should be doing too if you want to make it to the finals of the competition.

As you push open the doors to the gym, you stifle a groan at the sight before you. Jaemin and Joy are alone on the mats, and he’s spotting her as she attempts a backhandspring back tuck. When she lands it flawlessly, he cheers for her with such genuine enthusiasm.

He’s being nice. He’s being NICE.

You remind yourself of this over and over, trying to steady your racing heart and push down the flicker of jealousy rising within you.

Finally, he notices your presence and the way his face lights up eases your frustrations a little. “Baby! Shit Im sorry I didn’t notice the time. Where you waiting for me” he says before walking over to grab his things.

Finally, he notices your presence, and the way his face lights up eases your frustration a little. “Baby! Shit, I’m sorry I didn’t notice the time. Were you waiting for me?” he asks, rushing over to grab his things.

“I tried to call,” you reply flatly.

“I'm sorry, my phone was in my bag,” he says, inching closer and taking your hand in his.

Joy stands across the room and sends you a smile and a wave. “Sorry, my spotter is still out, and I really want to perfect my back handspring!”

You sigh—you could never hate her. “Your form is great! I appreciate you putting in the extra hours; I can see how much this team means to you.”

Your words bring a beaming smile to her face, and you can tell it’s exactly the motivation she needed.

You were captain before anything, you would always support your teammates.

You and Jaemin walk back to your dorm in silence, his voice filling the space as he rambles on about practice. He seems to genuinely enjoy it, and you recall how he once mentioned his friends teased him about first joining the team, calling him a princess. Yet, even they started showing up to support him.

“Are you okay?” he asks, noticing your quietness.

“I just feel really, really stupid,” you admit, unable to meet his gaze.

“Nothing you do is ever stupid, don’t say that,” he scolds gently. He stops walking and tilts your chin up, locking eyes with you. “You’re not stupid.”

You pout at him, the frustration bubbling inside.

“Say it,” he commands, playfully squishing your cheeks together.

“I’m not shtupith,” you mumble, and he leans in, pecking your lips with a smile.

“There she is~” he coos, a grin breaking across your face despite yourself. “Now talk to me,” he says, interlacing your fingers as you continue walking.

You hesitate, taking a deep breath to steady yourself.

“I guess I’ve been feeling jealous lately. You’ve been spending so much time with Joy, and—” You cut yourself off with an exasperated sigh, realizing how selfish it sounds now that it’s out in the open.

“Continue,” he encourages softly.

“It’s just hard not talking to you during practice and then seeing you with her, all pearly-white smiles,” you admit bitterly, a knot forming in your stomach.

“I understand” He says. “I haven’t been giving you enough attention”

“No its not that Jaemin you have been great im just selfish” you say.

“Nothin selfish about wanting whats your baby, its ok” he says eyes darkening “i’ll just have to help you remember that im all yours”

You know that look in his eyes and that put a little pep in your step as Jaemin stalks you from behind like a predator.

You were excited for what he had in store for you.

When you finally arrive back home, he’s on you in an instant. It’s been a while since you last felt his touch—most nights after practice, you’ve been too exhausted to engage in your usual routine. He’s still dressed in his practice clothes: a simple tank top and sweats.

Jaemin in a tank top is like a refreshing rain in the desert—not because it’s rare, but because it’s a blessing. Each kiss pulls him deeper into you, making it harder for him to pull away. He’s stealing the air from your lungs, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. Your hands wander lightly over his broad shoulders, toned arms, and slim waist before they find their way back up, tangling in his hair.

Your movements weren't hurried; they were intentional, savoring every moment. He gently walked you backward until you were laid flat on the mattress. Embraced by his presence, you felt enveloped in his scent, his touch, and the depth of his love. As he slowly shed you of your clothes, silence enveloped the room; neither of you wanted to break the spell. You simply allowed yourselves to get lost in each other.

Every inch of skin laid bare to him was met with tender kisses, warm and sweet, until you were completely exposed. He kissed his way down your body, pausing to place a soft kiss on your abdomen. The eye contact you shared in that moment sent a flutter of butterflies dancing in your stomach, igniting a mix of awe and desire.

He's nipping and leaving teasing licks on the inside of your thighs before he finally gets to where you need him most. Lips meet your clit in a wet kiss and then he's dipping his tongue to swipe through you until it's flattened against your clit and he's wrapping his lips around you again. You relax your thighs as best you can, letting him have his way with you. A lazy hand pushes his bangs back so you can look him in the eyes as he tastes you.

His eyes were so intense. Jaemin was mostly known for his beautiful smile but for you, it was the eyes that really did it. He had such strong, expressive eyes. Just by looking at them, you could see all the nasty things he wanted to do to you.

The hands that rested gently on your thighs began to explore, gliding across your body with a delicate touch. They roamed slowly, tracing the curves and contours, igniting sensations that sent shivers through you. One hand found its way to your chest, caressing while he brought the other down to tease your entrance. Hes pressing one into you hooking it sensually before another joins. Hes so sloppy, mouth making slick, intoxicating sounds that filled the air around you. Each flick of his tongue made your eyes roll into the back of your head. His fingers pumped, twisted, and curled as he began to coax an orgasm out of you.

“Come on baby, look at me,” he says once he notices your eyes closed in pleasure.

“Why are you not looking at my pretty face? Are you gonna cum?” he teases.

Your back arches and you lose it. Your body convulses and you're making a mess of his already glossy lips.

He leaves a stinging slap to the side of your thigh. “Be so lucky I'm being nice; you know better. Who said you could cum?”

You whined at his tone, knowing you were going to be in trouble. “Fucking spoiled. You just take what you want” He sits up and pulls his tank top over his head. “Turn around”

You do as you’re told and you hear him shuffle behind you, probably taking off his sweats. Then you feel him. Thick and warm pressed against your backside and you turn to look over your shoulder as you watch him spread your juices with the head of his cock and sink into you. His hands gripped your ass, spreading you open to be able to see how you took him with ease.

“Mhm, Jaemin,” you moan, arching into him.

“Uh uh, who am I” he says as he smacks you ass.

You could feel the shift in the air and you knew what you were in for.

“Nana” you whine.

“Thats right, Nana is going to take care of you.” he coos before pulling back to leave a particularly sharp thrust against your cervix.

You fall forward and a hand reaches out to grip your hair, pushing you down further into the mattress. Jaemin rearranges himself so he's kneeling on one knee, giving himself a better angle to drive you into the mattress.

“I love you, and I'm going to make sure you know it. Going to make sure you feel it,” he groans.

Hes so deep, its all you could feel. You reach behind you after a particularly rough trust and he just grabs your arm and pulls you back into him, using it as leverage.

“Oh fuck!” you moan and you were not going to last long. “Fuck me Nana, dont stop”

“You gonna be a good girl and ask to cum?” he reminds you.

“Please let me cum Nana!” you beg.

He slows down and you almost complain until the slow, deep thrust steals your breath away.

He builds you up and you're crying against the sheets.

“Im gonna cum, please let me cum” you beg pathetically as tears blur your vision.

“Thats my girl, cum” he says and you melt away. Your body shudders and you become a puddle of limbs as he helps you ride out your high.

You could hardly keep yourself up so he manhandles you onto your back and stokes over you before spilling all over your chest and stomach.

You peer down at the mess he’d made and when you look up at him, he gives you a satisfied grin. After catching his own breath, he wastes no time in cleaning up. A warm towel and clean sheets are brought to you after you two definitely left several wet stains in the covers. He cleans you up nicely and cuddles you.

This was all you needed.

You and Jaemin had finally stopped trying to avoid each other during practice, and it felt liberating. You reminded yourself to be responsible, and somehow that balance brought you an unexpected sense of happiness. Every day, you walked into practice wearing a bright smile that was so radiant it made everyone around you groan in unison.

“Ugh, can you tone it down with the sunshine?” someone teased, prompting a chorus of laughter from the rest of the team. But you didn’t mind. With your renewed focus, you were running practices like the Navy—organized and disciplined. No one could get away with slacking off or skipping out anymore, and you could sense that some teammates yearned for the old, more carefree version of you.

You let them slack off for a week and now they wanted to act brand new. You roll your eyes.

Competitions came and went in a flash, and you felt proud of your team—and of Jaemin, who had stuck through it all. You genuinely enjoyed his presence and the time you spent together.

During one of the final competitions, when the team took home the trophy, you found Jaemin amid the celebration. His eyes sparkled with joy, and when he pulled you into an excited hug.

“You did amazing out there!” he exclaimed, his voice filled with genuine delight.

“So did you! I’m so glad we got to do this together!” you replied, beaming up at him. In that moment, surrounded by cheers and the thrill of victory, you realized how special this experience was.

With the chaos of the competitions behind you, you found a quiet spot away from the celebrations. The stars twinkled overhead, and the cool night breeze carried the scent of victory. Turning to Jaemin, a genuine smile lit up your face. “I couldn’t have done it without you,” you said softly. “I’m sorry if I was hard on you at first.”

He shrugged, unbothered. “You’re kind of hot when you’re an asshole,” he teased.

You nudged his shoulder playfully. “I am not an asshole!” you protested, but you couldn't help the laughter that bubbled up in your voice.

“Whatever you say sexy,” He jokes. "Come, it's time to celebrate. I brought some fireworks,” he says, wiggling his eye brows at you.

You laughed and nudged Jaemin, intrigued by his playful grin. He proposed grabbing some snacks, finding a quiet spot, and lighting fireworks under the stars. The only sounds were the gentle rustling of the trees and the chirping of insects.

"This is perfect," you thought, gazing up at the stars as Jaemin handed you a sparkler. Watching it fizzle out made you feel like a child again, and when you looked at him, you saw nothing but love in his eyes.

As the night wore on, the fireworks brightened the tranquil darkness, and leaning against Jaemin felt completely right. In that moment, you realized this was the ideal way to celebrate your victory

(A/N: Sorry for the rushed ending this was supposed to be short but i really wanted to flush it out heh)

#jaemin smut #jaemin fluff #jaemin imagines #jaemin scenarios #jaemin fic #jaemin fanfic #jaemin x reader #nct dream #nct dream smut #nct dream imagines #nct dream scenarios #nct dream fanfic #nct dream x reader

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seungfl0wer · 5 months ago

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*Teach Me*

Parings: Hyunjin x Reader (Fem)

Genre: Pure smut with some crack

Warnings: Unprotected Sex, Multiple creampies, multiple round, hint at breeding, mentions of masturbation, Hyunjin was a cat turned human. F Receiving, Not proofread. (I think that’s all?)

Link to the request Here. Such a good request uuugh thank you so much for this one. I hope you enjoy it!

A much asked for part two is here: “To much kitten?”

-🩵

You signed to yourself cleaning up the mess your new cat had just made. You left the room for 5 minutes to grab your brush just to come back to your cat knocking your positions off the shelf. You started to clean everything up the cream colored cat meowing at you. “Did you have to break them all?” You said glaring at him. You had just brought him home a few weeks ago, finding him alone in the forest where he would surly get eaten by a werewolf or worse.

The playful cat had jumped from where you had placed him away from all the mess to your back. You shook a bit trying to get him to come down to you to grab. He slipped down your side falling into a puddle of mixed positions. You quickly grab him, not knowing what he had fallen in or the reaction it might have. You quickly tried cleaning him and placed him in the bathtub where he couldn’t escape. He sat in there crying but you had to clean everything up. The potions themselves were harmless however mixing them together could cause anything honestly.

After you had everything cleaned you decided to run a bath for you and your kitty. Was he gonna like it? Honestly you had no idea you haven’t tried before. So you ran a nice warm bath for the both of you holding him in your arms as you slipped into the tub. Weirdly enough he didn’t seem to mind. He didn’t seem like he wanted to venture away from you but laying on your chest with the warm water touching him, he seemed calm.

You closed your eyes relaxing into the warmth. And then you hear a poof. Before you could open your eyes you heard the water spilling out of the tub. A hand grazed your side and you could feel legs between your own. You opened your eyes only to find your cute little cat turned into a human.

Eyes wide staring at the naked man above you. He looked like he was in shock he couldn’t move and your body was almost frozen as well. Both of you were literally naked in the tub together. You looked over him eyes wondering his body. His blonde hair plastered to his face. His muscles stiff as he held himself in place and his- “no no do not look” you said to yourself eyes back up to his face. You didn’t even have to look you could feel his cock laying on your leg. Your body was flushed pink it felt like hours had passed but it had only been about 5 minutes.

“Before you say anything just know this is your fault” you said looking up at the man. He tilted his head “maybe don’t have so many bottles around a cat” he rolled his eyes back at you. “So we just gonna stay here naked together?” He said with a smirk. You quickly pushed him off grabbing a towel for yourself rapping it around you. “Here’s a towel dry yourself off while I see if I have clothes for you.” You said leaving the bathroom.

What the fuck just happened. The potions that had combined must have turned him into a human. Of course they did. Just your luck you find a cute animal and it turns out to be a pretty man. You rummage through your closet finding an oversized shirt of yours and some basketball shorts he could wear for now. You came out to find the man in the living room, He was butt ass naked looking out the window.

“Someone gonna see you.” You said handing him the clothes “put these on ok?” He nodded putting the clothes on and going back to looking out the window. You sat down looking on your phone any answers you could find. It turns out it’s more common than you think. The man will still act cat like, go through a lot of the same motions but will stay human.

You sighed at least knowing this wasn’t just you being dumb. He turned to you “it’s dinner time!” He said walking over to you. He was right, this is the time you always feed him. “Alright but I don’t think you’ll like your dry food anymore, how about I make us some fish?” You said his eyes lighting up like little stars twinkling in the night sky. You quickly head to the kitchen you hungry yourself to start cooking. You made fish with a small bowl of rice and broccoli. The man before you sat close to you watching your every move. “By the way as much as I like the name star, my names hyunjin.”

After dinner he had curled up on the couch falling asleep. You took this opportunity to run to the store quickly. You grabbed him some clothes and a few other things he may need running back to the house. As you opened the door you were met with a tackle. Hyunjin had his arms wrapped around you tightly “you could have at least told me you were leaving, I got scared” he said softly looking up at you with those big eyes.

“I’m sorry hyune you were sleeping so peacefully so I wanted to grab you stuff.” You said putting the bags down. He released his grip on you crossing his arms “you always leave when I’m sleeping” he said in a huff which made you laugh a bit “well yeah it’s the only time you are actually peaceful and not destroying stuff.” You teased.

-🩵

A few weeks had passed since your cat had been turned human and it wasn’t too bad honestly. It was nice having someone to talk to when you were home that could actually talk back now.

You had noticed though hyunjin spending sometime in the bathroom. It made you wonder why? What exactly was he doing. He’d always come out with his cheeks all flushed. You stared at him this time as he came back to the couch “are you just like taking a massive shit or something?” You half teased half wondering if that’s what it was.

He just looked at you confusion plastered his face before he started busting out laughing “what the fuck did you just ask me” Tears pricking the corners of his eyes from laughing so hard. “Why do you keep going to the bathroom then you asshole.” You teased throwing one of the pillows at his face. “You really think I’m going to the bathroom that much? I mean your cooking is kinda bad but not that bad.” He teased tossing the pillow back at you.

“You really wanna know what I’m doing?” He said tilting his head looking at you. Not giving you a moment to second guess yourself “I’m in there fucking my hand” he said teasing as he made the hand motion. You were the one now confused but also in shock? He continued “I still have all the animal desires y/n I can’t help being around you and your smell makes me go feral. The slightest touch from you sometimes is enough to just send me into a frenzy. So I excuse myself to the bathroom. Honestly it’s probably worse right now cause heat is coming.” He rambled.

“First of hyunjin, most people don’t come right out and say they were masturbating. Second of all you went to the bathroom like 4 times yesterday.” You said still kind of confused. “Why can’t I say that? What’s it matter if people know? Us cats just take care of ourselves.” He states himself now looking confused “hyune you’re a human now though and you can’t just say that especially if others are around.”

You sat there discussing things, not realizing there were things he may not know about being human. Things you thought were just explanatory like no peeing outside or scarfing down your food so the others can’t have any. He sat there listening to you and asking questions “so what about mating?” He asked “I’ve never seen you with a mate but I’ve seen you use that little vibrator in your dresser. How come you get to touch yourself and I can’t?”

You had forgotten you’ve touched yourself while he was in the room. I mean fuck he was a cat then you didn’t know this would all happen. He stared at you for a split second before leaning into you “Since you’re teaching me about all human things, can you teach me how to properly mate with you?” He said eyes going from your lips back up to your gaze. “I uhm-“ you stutter out before he presses his body against yours. “Guide me or I’ll do things how I know to do them.”

The beautiful man inches away from your lips, his big brown eyes staring so lustfully at your hands on your hips ready to take you. It’s been a long time since you’ve had sex let alone even a damn kiss. You put yourself so fully into your studies lately you hadn’t had time for dating. Here was this sexy man wanting nothing more than you, were you going to pass on the opportunity? I guess not. Because before you could question anything hyunjin was kissing you sloppily pushing you down into the couch to be over top of you.

He kisses were wet and messy, his tongue lapping at the inside of your mouth twirling your own tongue. He was definitely gonna need to be shown how to kiss better but it was hot at the moment. His hand rushed over your body feeling every inch of it as he rutting against you. His clothed cock felt so painfully hard. He positioned himself so his cock was now at your clothed cunt. He moved his hips more earning a moan from you. He kissed down your jaw to your neck sucking on it harshly. Fuck. He groaned out by your ear. “Please” he said voice raspy.

“Please what?” You asked a bit confused to what he was asking. He sighed “please actually help me, this is you know different from what I’m use to. I’m gonna need help finding uhm- where to put myself.” He said his face blushed you couldn’t tell if it was from his question or just cause he was turned on. Either way it was so cute.

You smiled at him softly “alright, take your pants off then.” You said and as soon as those words left your mouth he was stripping so fast. You were about to pull your clothes off before he grabbed your pants “let me help you with that.” He said his eye’s looking hungry. As soon as he got your pants off he dived into your soaking cunt. The contact was so fast your brain went fuzzy. He lapped up all your juices, licking you clean before looking up at you.

His eyes were hazy looking he murmured out “where’s the spot?” He asked “the uhm the thing” he said he was confused himself. “What?” You chuckled a bit “the clit?” He questioned “I saw it on one of your videos the girl said “yes suck my clit” isn’t that like your spot?” He asked. You smiled at him sweetly showing him what he was talking about “this is it it’s a very sensitive part of a female it’s like how males like you have a sensitive tip.” You said now pointing at the tip of his cock. He nodded understanding completely what you meant.

He quickly went back to licking small licks up your folds now stopping at your clit to suck on it. As you showed him that you also showed him where to in his words “stick it.” You could feel him bring his fingers up slowly playing with your entrance as he ravished the cunt. God for it being his first time he was way too good at it. “I’ve never tasted anything better not even the salmon could compare.” He said almost looking drunk off of your cunt. “And those sounds you were making fuck, I could cum just off that.” He said his free hand now stroking himself.

He continued eating you out like a hungry animal he was bringing you close to your release his hands steadily fucking you he could feel your walls clenching around his fingers. “Fuck y/n you’re gonna cum aren’t you?” He breathed out looking up at you “your eyes look the same way they did when you came on the vibrator.” All you could do was nod yes at him, his pace picking up as he let go of his cock to move his hand to your clit.

Everything together brought you to your high fast your legs shaking, walls fighting around him you were moaning his name loudly. Your hand grabbing ahold of his head pulling you as your high washed over you. Cuming on his tongue he let out a moan feeling warmth on your leg. His body jolted a bit as you noticed he had also came. He had came hearing you say his name so sinfully, the taste of you brought him over the edge.

Your body felt like jello, legs shaky as he lapped up every little drop of you before coming up. His hair slicked back stuck to his forehead, those beautiful pillowy lips red from all the movement. You both looked so fucked out of your minds.

He got his second wind pretty fast, he wrapped his arms around you brining your body to his before flipping you over to your stomach. Your body was still to tired so he quickly placed a pillow under you making sure that nice ass of yours was displayed so nicely for him. He stroked himself a few times already hard again after cuming. God how was he so hard again. He quickly found your entrance pushing himself into you. You both let out the most lustful sinful moans the feeling of your walls around him had him trying not to cum already. The size of him filled you up so nicely could almost feel him on your stomach. If he fucked you like this there was no way you wouldn’t get pregnant.

He stayed still for a second just taking in how good you felt before moving a bit. Just the feeling alone of you he couldn’t help himself he pushed into you a couple times before his body shook. He was already cuming again. The sensation of his hot liquid filling your walls already had you moaning loudly. You didn’t want it to end yet but how could he go again after cuming twice in the span of a few minutes? Well don’t underestimate the power of a horny cat man.

He gave himself a few seconds his cock still hard inside you before moving. He was such a mess on top of you, both of you sweaty and sensitive. He fucked into you so sloppily the cum acting as lube letting him glide in and out. The noises of skin slapping filled the room. His hands digging into your hips pulling him as far into you as he possible could. He moved down his body against you back leaving small kisses as his hand found its way back to your clit.

He rubbed your clit as he sunk his teeth into your shoulder. He fucked into you so deep you could feel his tip hitting your cervix. His hand that was on your him now wrapped around your body. His movements became fast feeling your walls tighten around him “Hyune I’m- fuck I’m cumming” you almost scream out his hand moving fast against your clit, his hips sloppily moving before he came deep inside your walls. He sucked small purple marks on your neck, bitting softly from time to time.

“I don’t wanna move” he said arms gripped around you tightly “feels to good, wanna stay buried inside you forever” he said voice low. You hum at the thought still feeling him twitching inside of you. “Damnit” he said softly pulling himself up “I gotta fucking pee” he said whining as he pulled himself out of you. The cum dripping out as he whined even more at the sight. He quickly ran to the bathroom you sat up rubbing your head, body still feeling weak.

“Alright I’m back, what are you doing?” He asked as you were cleaning yourself up. “Cleaning up” you said in a questioning tone. He whined a bit before sitting down on the couch “why you doing that for when we are just gonna get messy again?” He asks pulling you backwards making you sit down on his lap. You could feel his cock pressed against your folds “how the fuck are you hard again?” He blurted out. “Can’t help it you’re to hot.” He shrugged moving you as he pushed himself back into you. “We don’t even have to do anything I just wanna stay like this” he said wrapping his arms around you to pull you fully down around his cock.

“I don’t think you’ll be able to sit here and not try anything” you teased. He laughed a bit “probably not but hey I don’t think you’re complaining.” He teased back kissing your cheek. And he knew he was right you both did but you weren’t gonna admit to it.

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

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wonryllis · 7 months ago

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candy, you're like a drug (m) | sim jaeyun.

PREVIEW. where jake teaches you how to blow him behind the bleachers just before his soccer practice, unable to resist the charm of you in a cheerleader outfit. well it's not like he has to resist you anymore, you are finally officially his girl.

FEATURING. simp sim jaeyun(jake) with his obsession fem!reader(candy) from WATERMELON SUGAR . . this can absolutely be read as a standalone but i would still suggest giving the full fic a read, if you like this.

WORD COUNT. 3140 edited but don't come at me.

WARNINGS. SMUT MDNI!!!!! blowjob obviously, face fucking, dacryphilia, corruption kink, handjob, reader's a crybaby kinda, pussy rubbing but brief, mentions of eating pussy, voyeurism slightly, jake's mind is literally a museum of dirty thoughts about you. he's way too obsessed with you, he swears a lot and cums a lot, hand in hand. jake is real sweet trust. psst! sunghoon thrid wheeling oh. and that's all i think? idk if it's good i hope y'all like it!

★ YEONIE NOTES. this took so long im sorry guys, pls enjoy and leave comments and feedback i'd love to know your thoughts and yes im still open to doing more drabbles for them!

cheerleader… not a bad idea, you could definitely make use of it

“oh my god candy, you're gonna be the death of me!” jake pulls you away, dragging you to the back of the bleachers, his cock already rock hard and throbbing with need.

“don't you like it? i thought cheerleaders dressed like this,” you pout at him, fiddling with the ends of the literally shortest skirt of your closet.

“i love it baby, but you can't just show up to practice like that, how am i gonna be able to concentrate when all i can think of you is fucking you,” he groans scanning over your figure again and again, it's like you brought out a hidden desire he didn't even know he had. he'd win every game for you if you were to cheer by the stands like this, the adrenaline of getting to ruin your perfect outfit and your perfect makeup after, putting him on a winning streak.

“teach me to suck you off,” jake loses his mind when you get down on your knees, pushing your hair out of the way and looking up at him through your lashes, doe eyes driving him crazy.

“shit baby, i will,” oh he's so going to corrupt you.

“let me just put this down f’ you,” taking off his varsity jacket immediately, he spreads two fold on the ground, pressing his hands on it to make sure it's cushioned enough for you. being glad of the fact that he hadn't taken the jacket off for the practice before you came to give him the surprise.

. .

“you okay baby? do your knees hurt too much?” he asks once it settles in that you are doing this here and right now. heart pounding against his ribs so hard, he feels it ringing in his ears. his eyes cast down to the place your knees meet the rough ground and he internally grimaces and scolds himself for letting your soft skin scrap against dirt like this.

you smile sweetly at his actions, moving onto the jacket and letting your knees rub against the same cloth you watched him wash just yesterday. his precious jacket that he always took extra care of.

“so? how do i do it?” jake’s eyes quiver, orbs darkening as the lust takes over. blood rushing down quick at the dirty insinuation behind the innocent words that leave your mouth. drunk on the way you already seem so into it.

“take it out first,” he tries not to falter and just moan his heart out when you already jump at pulling his pants and boxers down before he's even finished speaking. holding his breath while he watches you watch his cock slap against his lower abs and then reach out to gently grasp it. mouth instinctively slacking open when he twitches in your grip and slowly bringing him close. a wet smooch at the tip that makes his whole body shudder and release a thick glob of precum, confusing you if he just came, your eyes instantly shooting up to look at him to which he just nods his head telling you to go on. put it in your mouth. his gaze speaks, air dense with anticipation.

“go on baby⁠— fuckkkkk oh god,” fuck fuck fuck, it feels way too good, cock laying heavy against your hot tongue, the softness of your mouth inside feeling like a tight pouch of warmth engulfing him in the most pleasurable way possible.

“just s-suck on it like your lollies,” jake groans, uttering the words through his clenched teeth. just a minute into you trying to give him head and he already feels like busting a nut. god how long has he dreamt of this exact moment and how many times. how many dreadful nights of fisting his cock imagining it was your tiny warm mouth around him, sucking him hard and sloppy like you do with those watermelon lollipops all the damn time in front of him. those torturing times, oh he can't believe he survived it to actually know what it feels like to be inside your mouth.

his hair sticks to his forehead, feeling the sweat drip as he breathed hard with every experimental suck. hands reaching down to push the strands of hair that fall forwards away from your face. thumb caressing your the skin under your eyes as you look up and into his brown orbs. holding eye contact with a dazed doe look that drives him crazy. the touch of your small hands stroking what you can't seemingly fit inside, lips always coming back to suck on his tip, like slurping dripping candy. he felt crazed, insane, and lunatic for still craving so much more of you.

“yeah fuck candy, just like that,” he pants, head tilting back as he gasps for air, everything around him tuning out at the realization of having you on your knees for him.

“shit!” the sudden feeling of you gagging around him after trying to take him all in makes jake jerk forward in a shudder.

it doesn't take him another second to decide that, that's it. he can't control himself anymore and absolutely needs to fuck your mouth, push so deep into your throat it leaves the imprints of his cock and make you so cock drunk all you ever think about when you gulp is him him and just him.

“push my thighs if gets too much—” one of his hands thread into your hair in a makeshift half pony to hold your head firmly and the other squeezing below his tip hard to hold himself from nutting before he gets to the real thing, wanting to drag this out even though he knows sooner or later someone will come searching for him, noticing the quaterback’s absence the moment one pays a tad bit of attention.

jake has never been the one to skip practice and especially not for something indecent like this. being late is not in his veins and keeping his varsity duffle bag at the stark front of the bleachers; his all time habit, always eager to make his presence and determination known. so the fact that he can't be spotted anywhere in the field with his bag resting exactly where it is every time, is more than enough of a reason to have the whole team searching around for him. however, in all honesty, you being an exception to all of jake's rules(as it has always been) all he hopes for is not being caught no matter how much the thought of it arouses him. he can't let people see this pretty you. wanting to gatekeep you to the very last bits. hence, this blowjob is way more important, and practice and his team can just wait a few extra minutes.

he starts off slow at first, thrusting careful and steady, to let you adjust to it. ten, nine, eleven, eleven, trying to count sheep in his head not to lose his cool too quick. shit shit shit, it's okay, it's all good.

it works for a while, even if his counting is fucked over like him, it works for a short fleeting while. maybe a minute or two or three, he has no idea but it's too brief of a time to be called as holding back.

he takes one look at you. just one look, at the way you already seem to be struggling, drooling all around him with your doe eyes all wide and teary, a few drops slipping out with each thrust of him. you are a crybaby for sure and maybe it would've annoyed him if it were someone else but come on it's you. he already imagined you to be a crybaby and god did it turn him on beyond expectation, though he didn't think you'd actually be one, and he definitely never thought he'd love it so so much when you cried for him. eyelashes wet and batting at him, doing whatever it takes to keep your eyes open and trained on him.

if he knew it was because the first time you fucked, he asked you to keep your eyes on him and you thought he liked it when you did it, hence forcing your hooded eyes to stay on him right now.. jake would lose his mind into the depths of hell and into the sins of lust.

the whimper you let out when his cock hits the back of your throat makes him buck his hips forward once, and at realization of how you're struggling and yet not pushing him away because you want it just as much as him, his grip on your head tightens before he starts thrusting frantically like a madman. albeit, at the back of his subconscious he's still holding back, knowing you're not yet ready to handle his true lost self.

“i swear, you're trying to kill me,” his voice strains with the amount of moans and groans he held back all time to make sure people don't find him.

back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. jake's hips fall into a rhythm of their own as he swears out all the curses known to mankind at the back of his mind. feeling so good, it makes him question if all the sex he had until you was actually some real sex or just some otome simulation he played.

there's no way something as simple as this and something where he has to be sane enough to hold his demons in check could feel so damn ecstatic.

his eyes shut tight at the feeling of his orgasm creeping in quick. not wanting to overwhelm you by coming deep inside your throat, yet not being able to stop the frenzied thrusts: desperate and erratic. fucking you had him fighting demons but having your mouth on him also has him fight demons, though a level lower, but feeling like his life would be sucked out of him.

and if there's anyone who he'd actually let sucking his life out of him, it'd be you. one whine of his name and he'll fold to give you his cock anytime and anywhere.

“fuck candy, ‘m so close,” jake's strokes falter into sloppy movements when you suck in your lips to squeeze him tighter showing no signs of pushing at his thighs and just letting him hold your head in place and use you as he pleases.

just as he feels the first twinge of coming undone, jake quite literally forces himself out, gritting his teeth and holding his breath as he pulls away mumbling out a rough fuck while staggering in his steps.

“jerk me off, wanna finish on your face, wan to paint your pretty little cheeks and your cute little tongue with my cum,” he mutters, guiding one of your hands to his cock as one of his own moves to hold your jaw and squeeze your cheeks to keep your mouth open. thumb rubbing against your lower lips while he bites his own at your hands returning to stroke him like you did before. brows furrowing and heart thumping loud as his orgasm builds up again.

he's gonna cum so much and jake knows because it starts to hurt. and like the masochist he is, he heightens it by bringing his other hand to hold his cock over your small slick ones,”twist it like this under the head,” he says squeezing and moving his hands in twists to show you just how he likes it. and lord do you get it so well, twisting harshly just under the head like he said and then pulling at it. it's honestly a mysery to jake how he's lasted this long and not just cum in the first two minutes of you touching him. perhaps his experience comes to some use, but then even his experience can't help him from nutting in just merely twenty minutes. the time he so struggled to calculate just a couple seconds before he lets the pleasure take over and the hot spurts of cum shoot out on your tongue and all over your face.

“mhmmm fuck baby fuckkkk—” jake hisses, biting down on his lips hard as his whole body spasms with pleasure, ropes of cum spilling out the tip, pushing his hips in quick thrusts into your fist.

and even though jake has perhaps sworn a million times that he's not a voyeur, that he does not feel his entire being ascending into the holy sins at the prospect of being watched with you, especially anyone besides him, watching you, he swears he has sworn on it a good damn gazallion times. yet when he spots a boggled and overwhelmed sunghoon, gaping and gawking in the corner, the intrigue and hunger in his obscure gaze evident along with his obvious boner; jake feels a second orgasm coaxed out of him in another spurt of cum that lands directly on that spot on your lips he loves to rub his fingers over.

fuck. that's all jake can think of watching sunghoon realize he was caught and immediately rushing off. since when was that prick watching? he better not have gotten a look at your teary eyes and heard the little whines you let out.

he doesn't let it bother him too long though, he'll deal with it when he gets back to the field.

what he now wants to focus on is you and only you.

running his thumb over the splashes of cum and smearing them on your lips, inserting his fingers into your mouth and telling you to suck before he's pulling you up by your waist and holding you tight against him. his cock rubs against the fabric of your skirt, twitching with sensitivity at the touch but he pays it no mind. his own lips hovering over yours as he speaks in a whisper,”are you okay? did i hurt you somewhere?”

you shake your head in denial and jake heaves a sigh of relief, proceeding to tame your hair back to how it was before. palms caressing your head softly, and fingers threading through the strands all gentle and slow. not wanting this moment with you to end. his lips lock with yours in the midst of it as his hands fall down to your waist again. kissing with so much fervor and desperation, it makes you rub your thighs together to get some kind of a friction. and jake notices it for his hand had moved to play with the ends of your short skirt, knuckles loosely brushing against the back of your thighs that fidgeted every time he sucked on your tongue or nibbled on your lips.

“oh, my baby seems bothered,” pulling away to whisper it against your lips that chase his own for more.

“what do you want? tell me and i’ll give it to you,” jake grins, watching you struggle out of embarrassment,”come on candy, use your words,” it's so cute, should he just touch you or should he take his time cooing at your fumbling self.

“w- want yo—”

“well since you aren't gonna say it,” he picks up his jacket from the ground and brings it up to your face to wipe off his cum from your cheeks. pushing against the plump of your skin to make your lips pout out and one of your eyes close.

“want you to touch me too,” you whine.

“where baby? you gotta tell me,” he teased further, booping your nose before putting his jacket back on him.

“here,” jake’s breath hitches when you guide his hand down to touch you over your panties, the fabric so damn wet you might as well have cum untouched. the prospect of that being true turns him on beyond what's humanely possible. you cumming untouched while he fucked your mouth, god the thought of it makes him crazy. but thinking back on how sunghoon wandered in, it's better to leave it at this for now. can't have more people getting the opportunity to see you.

“here? my baby wants me to touch her pussy?” there's so much more he wants to say, but he knows if he says it now there's no way he won't be getting rock hard again and completely ditching practice.

his fingers press hard into your folds while he rubs around, his other hand squeezing your ass and his face buried in your neck, inhaling the scent of your shampoo as he bites and nibbles on the skin there.

“i’m sorry candy, but you'll have to wait until after practice. want to take my time eating you out. want to make you cum at least three times,” and make you squirt, he wants to add but man does the thought of it make his dick twitch, speaking it out loud would just make him squirt a pump of cum.

he slips his fingers inside to gather your wetness, sliding two fingers between your folds before taking it out and putting them into his mouth,"fuck, love the way you taste,”he groans. his favorite candy in the world. his drug, candy.

jake spends another minute rubbing you over your slick panties and letting his other hand on your ass move all over and grope you wherever he can. he makes sure it's just enough to have you craving his touch the entire time you wait. feeling jealous over the thought that having you wait for him by the bleachers would give sunghoon a view of you too. and knowing his friend, he probably won't have any innocent thoughts about you after what he walked into.

“come on now let's go,” it takes a great deal of self constraint for jake to pull away but alas it will only be fruitful once he gets through practice and has all the time in the world to pleasure you.

he helps you fix your appearance and dusts off his jacket and pulls up his pants before he leads you back out into the field where everyone waited for him.

“wait for me here,” he says, bringing you to his bag where he takes off his ‘thisisneverthat’ shirt to put on his jersey with a smug grin lacing his lips. placing his jacket on your lap to cover your pretty legs, if he could he would just burrito you with a blanket and th— no sim that's creepy.

“I'll be back before you know it,” bending down to place a chaste kiss on lips and forehead, he promises. jogging away to the middle of the field and taking his position beside sunghoon. it feels like there's a spark of tension between them from what you catch, but perhaps you're just thinking too much, they're good friends aren't they?

TAGLIST. @s00buwu @lilyuwon @pockyyasii @nctislifue @jaklvbub @kwiwin @brachives @jayhoonvroom @haelahoops @aaa-sia @lovingvoidgoatee @txtlyn @jakehooni @mnxnii @rikisly @notevenheretbh1 @yunjinsbbg @pjsfvs @yizhoutv @enhyven @capri-cuntz @heeseungsbabyy @aishigrey @wooziswife @citylightsdoll @yeonzzzn @istphanie @chaewonshoney @cha0thicpisces @laurradoesloveu @bambammtori @wonsbaer @ayyysweetcreature

#NASTY JAKE MAKES A COMEBACK!#enhypen smut #enhypen imagines #k-labels #enhypen jake smut #jake smut #enhypen jake imagines #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen hard hours #WATERMELON-SUGAR:CONTINUED #enhypen scenarios #enhypen drabbles

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awritessomething · 9 months ago

Text

𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫 | robby keene x fem!reader

Requests Masterlist

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | A Miyagi-Do member tried to make a move on Robby Keenes girlfriend. He didn’t let it happen, now she’s showing him how grateful she is for his protection.

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | smut, pre-established relationship, use of Y/N, protective!robby, oral m!receiving, handjob, swearing, public sex, taller!robby (bc Tanner is 5’7), brief harassment

Y/N was at her locker at school. She was trying to grab one of her books from the shelf in her locker. She reached up and that’s when she felt a hand on her ass. Assuming it was Robby, she just slowly turned. It was not her boyfriend, it was one of the new members of Miyagi-Do.

“Ew- get off of me!” She hissed and shoved the boy away from her. The boy didn’t leave though. He tried to move back towards her. That was when she heard a voice she would recognize any day. The voice of Robby Keene.

“Hey! Back off!” Robby shouted. Both of them turned their heads to look at him. It seemed like this harasser knew who he was. He was scared. The boy immediately stepped away from Y/N. That didn’t seem to satisfy Robby though. “The fuck were you about to do, hm?” He got in the boys face, eyes narrowing.

“Sorry, I didn’t know-”

“You’re not supposed to be doing that anyways. Get outta here.” Robby growled and shoved the boy away, making his back hit the wall. Usually a fight would’ve started, but the boy had common sense. He knew what was the smarter option. He scurried off.

Y/N grabbed onto her boyfriends arm and pulled him to her side. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“Of course. You ok?” He asked softly. Robby Keene was supposed to be one of the meanest out there, but with her, he was the nicest. His eyes were locked on her, filled with love and concern.

“Yeah, thanks.”

Robby stood at her side as she got her books, then he walked her to class. She was already a bit late. Robby’s next class was on the other side of the school, but it wasn’t really like he cared.

“Ill see you at lunch?” Y/N asked, leaning on the door of her classroom. Robby nodded. She smiled and gave him a quick kiss on the lips before going into her class. Lunch was the next block.

The class seemed shorter than usual, although it was 80 minutes long. The second it was over, Y/N was on her way to go and find Robby. Instead of going to the cafeteria, she went right to his locker. He was a bit confused, but of course he was happy to see her.

“Come.” She took his hand. Robby bit the inside of his cheek and then closed his locker before following her. She spent a little while just talking to him about class, which he listened to. That was because she was waiting for the halls to clear out.

Once the halls were nearly empty, she tugged him right into the nearby janitors closet.

“What are we doing in here?”

“I just wanna thank you.” Y/N looked up at him and put her hand on his chest, pushing him over to the shelf. Robby looked down at her, brows knit together. He wouldn’t try to stop her, since it was what he wanted anyways. She tugged off his belt and then put it on the shelf.

Looking up at Robby, she pushed down his jeans. He clenched his jaw and his breath hitched as her hand wrapped around his cock. His eyes closed and he pushed up his hips slightly.

“Fuck- we’re gonna make a mess in here, Y/N.”

“I can swallow.” Y/N reminded him casually. He let out a groan at that. She narrowed her eyes and then pulled her hand off of him. She reached under her skirt and pulled off her panties, shoving the lacy material into his mouth. His eyes snapped open and he looked at her. “You were being loud.” She smiled innocently and continued to jerk him off.

His eyes rolled back and he closed his eyes just for a moment. He heard her knees hit the floor and felt her hand let go of his cock.

Leaning forward, Y/N pressed a soft kiss to his tip. He bit down on her panties and let out a muffled groan. Her lips wrapped around him and her tongue swirled, pressing up against the veins of his cock.

Her hands fondled his balls, massaging them and urging him to cum soon. He didn’t want to though. His ego was a bit too big to let him cum so fast. Y/N took him fully into her mouth now, putting in more effort to take him all the way. She gagged on his cock.

The thick tip of his cock hit against the back of her throat. Saliva coated him completely. Her jaw was aching from how she kept it open to avoid her teeth grazing over him. Robby was a tough guy, but even he had some sensitive spots.

His hand went to the back of her head, gently guiding her movements. Her eyes fluttered open and she gazed up at him, causing his cock to twitch in her mouth.

Robby’s muscles flexed and his abs rolled before he subconsciously bucked his hips up. Her nose hit his abdomen and she furrowed her brows and her eyes closed. With a few more rolls of his hips, he came.

“Fuck-!” Robby let out a muffled groan, his eyes rolling back. Y/N swirled her tongue around him a few more times, urging him to give her more before she pulled off. A string of saliva connected them. She smiled and swallowed his cum before getting up to her feet.

“Good?” She asked softly, looking up as she pulled her panties out of his mouth. Robby cleared his throat and swallowed.

“Very. Lemme just…” Robby trailed off and pushed the pair of panties into his pocket. She knit her brows together.

“What are you doing?”

“Keeping these. Thanks for the gift,” Robby leaned down and kissed her before stepping out of the storage closet. Y/N wiped her lips and then followed a moment later.

#cobra kai #cobra kai smut #cobra kai x reader #cobra kai imagine #robby keene #robby Keene smut #robby keene x reader #netflix

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misshugs · 8 months ago

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₃The Cameragirl³ || snc

After a cheeky reply you might've regretted, you end up dragged into the office to have a little... talk.

contains: SMUT +18, oral (both ways), unprotected sex, cursing, pet names, alcohol consumption, no mention of Y/n

a/n: you asked, i delivered.

[part 1] [part 2] [part 3]

word count: 3k

[u n e d i t e d]

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

You thought about how lucky it was for the room to be soundproof, glad that nobody will hear your screams. Although... it would be quite pleasant to let everyone know how they please you, how they touch you like nobody else.

The way you know only them could do it.

You didnt expect this to be the way you'd be doing your cardio, but it seemed destiny had some other plans.

[hours before]

You were basically shaking as they took you back onto the office, the thought of them asking about your stupid comments instead of going with the flow like they always did.

It was too obvious to be jokingly flirting this time, and they noticed.

And you were scared shitless.

You didn't know if they would genuinely go ahead with it or maybe let you know they're not interested, which made your stomach growl in response to your anxiety.

Well, to your hunger as well. You haven't eaten anything since yesterday.

They just got to sit you down on the table before listening to your poor stomach. They laughed.

"Right. You just woke up." Sam said as you shamelessly nodded your head out of embarrassment. "Then let us eat before talking it out. Wouldn't like for you to pass out on us."

"Come on, then." Colby continued, extending an arm to you, which you cheekishly ignored and stood up from the table wilst puffing your cheeks out. "Giving me an attitude? Yikes." He laughed.

"Didn't even help me out when I was stuck in Sam's arms? Yikes." You replied, walking out of the room. You could hear their chuckles before walking down the stairs and into the kitchen.

Heating yourself something to eat, they reluctantly got closer and sighed. "Hey, uh... we need to leave right now. There's this person we have to meet for another haunted place and this is the only time they have available. We completely forgot." Colby explained to you, looking back at his phone, guessing it was the message he received.

"Oh, okay. I'll be here, then." You said, giving him a side look before continuing making your food.

"You don't wanna come with us?" Sam asked.

"I wanna eat?"

"Right, right... well, we'll talk later, then. Don't think you're still safe." Sam smiled at you before walking away with Colby.

You rolled your eyes jokingly, but when they left, you let out a big sigh you've been restraining.

You were safe, for now at least. While thinking of a way to try and avoid the topic all together, you got a message. It was a mutual friend of yours, asking you to come to a party.

Quickly agreeing at the false sense of hope you received, she told you that the boys were also invited. She also agreed upon picking you up beforehand, since you weren't really going to do anything anyways so being early and prepping everything up was also a nice way to keep your mind out of the gutter.

After eating, you basically had the whole day for yourself, so you might as well prepare yourself earlier.

Thinking about them, you thought cautiosly about what to wear.

And honestly?

You felt like you needed to push their buttons a little bit more tonight. Yeah, whatever happened a few minutes ago made you a blushing mess, but at the same time, boy... the adrenaline you got from it sure was fun.

Then again, you guys weren't exactly together... so what's wrong with wearing something a bit more... revealing?

And so, it was decided. Searching throughout your closet, you found a short dress that fit your criteria for the night. With a slit through the back that went down to heaven and short slits on the side, making your thighs almost pop out.

It wasn't something you usually wore. Heck, you forgot you had it for all you remembered, but it looked so good in your skin that you just had to use it.

A couple of hours passed by and you were already at the party, getting things ready before some people started coming through. It didn't take long before the place began crowding with people.

The host, your friend, has been under the influence even before it all began. You were starting to get a bit tipsy yourself, getting loose at the dance floor whenever a good song started playing.

"Hey, quick question." Your friend yelled at you. "Where's Sam and Colby? They said they were busy and didn't know if they were gonna come." She explained. Looking at her with confusion, you then remembered.

"Oh! They're talking to someone for their next investigation, that's why." Unbeknownst to you, you were merely half right. Yes, they were talking with someone about their next location, but they also denied due to other reasons involving you.

Thinking about it, you believed they weren't going to arrive at the party, therefore, you were somewhat down at the thought. You wanted to tease them tonight, but it seems that your plan wasn't going to happen.

It didn't step you away from having fun, though. Drinking, dancing, talking with friends... it was a good time. That is, until a random dude you've never seen in your life started approaching.

Disinterest in your eyes was visible, but the guy seemingly ignored it completely and kept making the cringiest remarks you've heard in your life.

He tried to get closer to you, reaching out to your waist before you could try and run away.

Your heart racing at a thousand per hour, his hands were rough, almost certain that there might leave a mark on your fragile skin.

"Won'tcha come with me tonight, 'lil mama?" He smirked, holding you tight and close to him, making you almost puke.

"Get the fuck away from me!" You tried to scream, tried to push him away but to no use. You were still weak from your recent investigation after all.

"Now, come on. Don't do this to me, honey." Holding your chin on place, he made you look at him. "I can make you feel really g-"

"Back off dude, she's taken." You heard a familiar voice before finally setting free from his grasp. Colby was the first one you saw, taking off the guys arms from you.

Another set of hands held you softly by the waist, pulling you closer, away from him. Sam. You looked up at his face, he seemed mad.

He looked at you, now worry in his blue eyes. "You alright?" He asked softly in your ear, holding one of your hands to try and comfort you. You nodded quickly, glad that you've been saved once again.

Looking back at the guy, Colby was pushing him away. A determined stare down from his side, making the guy that was trying to gain your attention chuckle.

"Where were you, huh? When she was having fun all alone in the middle of the room? You're just tryna pull her off as well. You dipshits are nobody." He snarled back at Colby, annoyance in both their faces.

"We're not gonna let shits like you touch our girl, understand?"

You could barely hear what they were saying due to the loud music from every side, but you surely heard that last part.

Their girl? What did that even mean?

A visible smirk on Colby's lips when he turned around to look at Sam. You didn't think the next set of actions were the respond to this childish kids play, but you could feel Sam's soft hands on your chin, making you look at him and his lips interlocked with yours in an instant.

Oh fuck.

Oh fuck, what was happening?

Was there a faucet running? Cause boy you were dripping wet. These men were driving you crazy.

You caught a glimpse of the now pissed guy walking off before Sam could pull away. When he eventually did, you looked at his smiling face for a second before reality hit you like a truck.

Your face flushed with a red tint on your cheeks. Looking back at Colby who was walking closer towards you, both of them now towering over you.

"I-I thought you guys weren't gonna make it?" You asked, genuinely confused now that you remembered your friend vividly explaining they were busy.

"We weren't, but our plans for the night switched places." Colby smirked at you, making Sam laugh at the remark, even more with your confused face.

You didn't understood at the time, but their plans were supposed to be you. "We finished earlier than expected, but then when we got home you weren't there." Sam explained. "Why didn't you tell us?"

"Well, she told me to come here early to help her out, so..."

"Ah, so you've been here for longer?" Colby asked, putting his hand on the slit on your back. "I guess I can't blame the guy, such a revealing outfit for so many hours..." He continued, slowly caressing your back with his hand, moving his hand down your bare skin. "I don't think I'd be able to hold it on a minute longer if I were him."

Shivers went throughout your whole body after listening to his words. "So if you didn't know we were coming, did you put this on for everyone else to see?" Sam asked, looking at you in the eyes. "I'm a bit jealous."

Your lip was quivering. The plan was to flirt back and tease them if they eventually came, but right now, you were speechless. The touch of their hands making your legs weak and shaky. A sudden hand up the side slit of your dress from Sam caught you slightly off guard, caressing your hip softly.

"Showing this much skin... Is this dress yours? Why have we never seen it before?" He asked.

"I don't.. I-I don't use it often." You managed to reply before panting at the constant feeling of getting touched by them. The adrenaline of someone possibly seeing what they were up to with you was nerve racking.

"We'll make you use it more often then, but only for us." Colby whispered, holding your ass and making you let out a soft moan. "We might as well have to find another place to chat more comfortably, what do you think, Sam?" He asked and Sam nodded.

Holding your hand tighter, he started walking away from the croud and into a random room from your friend's house. Closing the door, they noticed the music was barely heard. "Soundproof?" Sam asked.

"Seems like it."

"Most her rooms are..." You explained, making them look at eachother with a smirk before looking back at you.

"Good. You won't have to worry about screaming our names too loudly tonight then." Sam said.

"W-wha-" You could barely manage to say before Colby lifted you up and walked you to the bed.

Sitting you down, you looked up at them towering over you again.

"You're not escaping us tonight. You know that, right?" Colby began, crossing his arms.

"We're gonna have that... talk. Right now if we need to." Sam said, making you gulp.

"Can the talk be a bit more... dynamic?" You opened your legs slightly, which made them smirk.

"It was going to be from the start, sweetheart." Colby said with a deep tone, putting his hand on the insides of your thighs, quickly getting his hand closer to your heat. You sighed when you felt it, Sam fixing your hair behind your ear before getting closer to your face for another kiss.

While you kissed back, your legs closed a bit by instinct when you felt him playing with your clit through the fabric of your panties. "She's so wet, Sam." He informed, making Sam chuckle in the middle of the kiss, pushing his tongue deeper inside when you opened your mouth.

They made you lie down on the bed while your heated make out session with Sam didn't give you a second to even breathe. You moaned slightly when you felt your legs being pushed apart.

Sam slowly pulled down your dress, leaving your boobs out in the open, he separated from your lips and sighed. "No bra or anything, it almost seems like she was expecting us to fuck her." He said, pulling back only to see your whole view. "Fuck." He whispered.

Colby took off your damped panties and threw them to the floor, pushing up the skirt of your dress to have a clear view of your pussy.

You could see him licking and biting his lips while admiring the view. While sam went back to your soft, tasty lips, he began kneeding one of your breasts, playing with your nipple. You whined at the feeling, your heart racing at the touch.

Not a minute later, you could feel your legs being slightly lifted and a tongue licking your pussy, making you moan in between the kiss, letting Sam's tongue slip back in once again.

Shaking, you could feel Colby's tongue making circles around your clit, sucking at it, eating you up, making you arch your back at the feeling.

Sam separated from your lips and started giving you wet kisses around your face, slowly descending through your neck and onto your boobs, nibbling at your skin before making its way towars your nipple.

Sucking at it, you moaned softly and held onto his hair for support, while Colby kept on sucking and pushing his tongue inside of you, exploring every inch he's able to.

While Sam started sucking and licking one of your nipples, he made sure you were kept entertained. Putting two of his fingers inside your mouth for you to lick, you began sucking on them while drowning the moans in between.

From all of the stimulation, it didn't take long for you to cum all over Colby's face. He cleaned you up with his tongue, making sure to look at your erotic expressions whilst having Sam's fingers in your mouth, drooling all over them.

They both separated from you. You were filled with a sense of loss for a moment, but nothing that was going to stay for long. Sam sat behind you, making sure you lied your back on his chest while holding one of your breasts and opening up your legs.

Colby, enjoying the view, waited patiently for his friend to make you feel good. "Let's make sure you can suck us up well, yeah?" Said Sam while slowly moving the hand he had in your mouth down to your pussy.

Opening your lips with his fingers, he teased for a moment before pushing inside of you, making you moan and pull back your head on his shoulder.

One finger, then two, then three.

He stretched you up good while Colby was busy taking off his pants and looking at everything his eyes could manage from the view.

"Make sure Colby can see your pretty face." Sam whispered, thrusting quickly with his fingers. You could feel his bulge quickly rising behind you, poking your back.

You did as told, looking at Colby in the eyes while moaning and whining, your legs shaking at the feeling of being stretched out. "Colby... fuck. I need you."

"What do you need, baby?" He asked seductively, putting out his dick while you moaned at Sam's teeth biting onto your skin.

"You.. your dick... please." You whined.

"You want him to also make you feel good?" Sam asked while squishing one of your boobs and you nodded rapidly.

"Yeah. Yeah, please. Oh, fuck. Please." Pleading in such an erotic way, they couldn't just say no. Sam's fingers left you right before you were on the edge of yet another orgasm, but it didn't take long for something even better to take its place.

Colby's tip was slowly pushing in, making sure to not hurt you. You opened your mouth, taking out your tongue as the feeling was euphoric. He got closer and sucked on it before kissing you.

When he was completely inside, he began thrusting slowly but surely. Quickly speeding up when he felt you were already getting used to his length.

Moaning his name out, you looked back at Sam and whined for him as well, touching his erection from behind you, making him grunt. "Sam. Take... take it out." You panted in between moans.

And he did as told, quickly pulling out his dick while getting on his knees so that you could quickly hold it and put it inside your hot, wet mouth. "Oh, fuck." He let out when he felt your tongue up his friend.

You were quick to put it inside your mouth, bobbing your head up and down while getting railed up by Colby. The vibration of your moans sent shivers down Sam's spine. Holding your head up for support, he began thrusting inside your mouth as well.

It was a dream come true, you were on cloud 9, almost fainting at the pleasure you were receiving from both ends.

You didn't take long to cum, neither did them. After all, those teasing were killing them as well, they were just trying to hold it long enough for you to release yourself first.

You gulped down Sam's juices before pulling out, panting when he did. You were beat. If you barely had any strength before due to the recent investigation, now you were sure of it.

They made sure to clean you up before fixing your dress, giving you kisses all over your body, looking at the now visible hickeys all over your skin. "Gotta let people know you're taken. We can't have what happened before again." Colby whispered in your ear before kissing your cheek.

Breathing heavily, you nodded at them, not even entirely sure what you were agreeing upon.

"Well, that was a nice chat, was it not?" Sam said, smiling at your wobbly self.

"It really was, glad we could clear things up, right?" Colby continued. "I mean, I'm guessing you understand what we meant, right?"

You looked at him, getting your breath back together, smiling. "That you're my boys?" You asked, "Or maybe you have to explain it all over again, maybe I didn't understand what you meant."

They looked at eachother, smirking. "Then let us explain it again."

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

"come over here and kiss me on my hot mouth, i'm feelin' romantical."

thank you so much for reading <3 //also last part isn't a cliffhanger, we all know they went for round two, the end

smol taglist from those that wanted pt 3 *(sorry if you didn't want to be tagged): @oh-prettylady @lemonnightmare @honey-bees-13 @jupiter1700

~nikkõ

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princessbrunette · 12 days ago

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ᡣ𐭩 ｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅PRINCESSBRUNETTES SCREAM SALON INTRODUCES … ໒꒰ྀི ˃̵ ࿁ ˂̵ ꒱ྀིა

BLINK TWICE ࣪𓏲ּ ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃

♩cecile believe — blink twice ♩

pairing: supe!rafe x reader

cw: theboys!au, hostage situation, guns, rafe is 6ft7 because of compound v lol, forceful-ish sex, fear, death (not reader)

you are responsible for your own media consumption. welcome to kinktober day six. better late than never!

you’d only ever seen ‘king kook’ on tv.

six-foot-seven feet of pure lean muscle and compound v. you didn’t invest yourself too much into the capitalism porn and multi millionaire industry that were supes, not enough to admire the beloved favourite himself anyway. but you can safely say, once or twice it had crossed your mind. him. king kook.

many things had crossed your mind, but not one of them had been the fact one day you might be in the hostage situation you currently were — sky high in a penthouse that didn’t belong to you. you were just the maid for christs sake, caught up in a crime that you’d rather be far from.

as you listen to the repetitive drum that was your captors shoes, pacing back and forth in only the next room, your wrists tied, you lean back against the wall and stare up at the fluorescent lights in the walk in closet you were being temporarily stored in.

you’d already tried to plead for your life, bravely call out to your captor and ask to be spared — but had only had been slapped, the cold kiss of a pistol being pressed to your forehead shortly after forcing you quickly back into submission. all you could do now, was either wait to be killed or wait to be saved.

then of course there was the sound of the front door swinging open without a care that had you tensing up. the police wouldn’t just bust in like that without a plan, could it be another accomplice? you’re proven wrong once more by the sound of your captors voice once more — urgent and pleading, followed by a voice you hadn’t heard prior, and yet was somewhat familiar.

“alright alright, quit with the cryin’ okay— got yourself into this mess i don’t wanna hear it.”

there’s a strangled sound, the patio glass down sliding open, a yelp — and then silence. whoever had come to save you, had just thrown your captor from the balcony. you’re frozen, praying you weren’t next.

“you uh— you in here? ‘can come out now, okay he’s… he’s gone.” the male voice sounds reluctant, like he couldn’t be bothered to deal with the aftermath and you push yourself to your feet — bravely peeping from the closet.

there in the hallway, stands the famous supe— king kook, in all his glory. you knew he was huge but he seemed to tower now, the light from the open patio door casting an angelic glow around him— something like you’d never seen before.

your knees feel weak, all shaky like a baby deer and he presses his lips together.

“you’re…”

“want a picture or something?” he itches his jaw and you shake your head. in that moment, he takes you in — eyes dragging down and then back up as he blinks, waiting for a response. you suddenly feel nude under his gaze, and you wonder if that’s a superpower of his. you blame the stupid little black dress your boss forces you to wear.

“no. thank you. thank you for saving me.” you tremble, braving a step closer.

usually, he’d shrug it off — ruin the sweet moment with a ‘well it’s my job, so.’ and head off — but he’d had a long day and you were his final save until he had to head back to the tower for daily debriefs. didn’t hurt that you were easy on the eyes.

“yeah. he would have uh…” a grin spreads across his face and it feels cold, wrong for the moment. “he would have had your head on a stick.”

you feel queasy at the imagery but you’re distracted by the visage of the supe eyeing you once more. “do you drink?”

unsure as to how you got there, you stand at the kitchen counter with him now — still shaky. you figured with these things they’d come to have an ambulance check you over, make sure you’re okay, physically and mentally. but in this moment, there was no one coming. it was just you, and king kook.

you watch the muscles in his back contract as he faces away from you, unscrewing the cap to a bottle of expensive alcohol and pouring it into short glasses. when he faces you again, he’s charming — a coy smile leaving lines in his cheeks and focused eyes. it was never unheard of that he was handsome, you’re just noticing it now— close up and in person.

“get some of that in you, yeah?” he drawls, sliding the glass towards you, his fingers lingering on the rim— eyes on yours. “that shit should get you nice and relaxed.”

you take a sip, wincing at the sharp taste that burned your throat. whiskey — and you were never really a fan. but hey, it would be rude to decline. the supe chuckles at your reaction that you tried to hide, drinking his with ease.

“so what am i supposed to do now? do i need to report this to someone? i’ve never… been a hostage before.” your brow crinkles as your neck cranes to look up at him, the man suddenly closer than before, licking his lips like a malnourished alligator.

“uh, nah… no. you let me handle that, yeah? this was my save so… you report to me.” he tilts his head and you find yourself biting your lip. you want to scold yourself, but blame it on adrenaline instead.

“oh… well, i’m thankful for that.”

“yeah? how thankful.” he moves a little closer, and you feel tiny.

“hm?” all doe eyed and helpless, you practically feed it to him.

large hands find your hips, and to your surprise you’re spun to face away from him, the man leaning down so his hot breath invades the space between your neck and ear.

“you know i- i had a really long day. maybe we… figure something out, right? a way for you to pay me back.”

“how so?” you whimper.

it all happens so fast — one moment you’re being smooth talked, next moment your feet are dangling in the air, being used like a fleshlight. you’re grasping onto him now, flailing a little at the fact you were totally off the ground, the man effortlessly supporting your weight.

“fuckfuckfuck— yeah-haha, like that.” he strains, hips plapping violently against your ass as he fucks into you. no protection or anything, but somewhere in the back of your mind you figured supes couldn’t procreate like that.

“k—king m’gonna fall— gonna—mmph.” you sound deranged, like an animal even as you flop against him, letting him hammer you in the air.

“shh—shutup, a’ight? gonna — gonna let me have this… mmph… gonna be a grateful girl for me okay?” he grunts, adjusting his feet wider and closing his eyes to concentrate on the warm embrace of your snug cunt.

you suppose you were grateful, and whilst you were filled with shame — the least you could do would be to try and enjoy it.

#this is so ass 💀#supe!rafe #theboys!au #rafe cameron prompt #kinktober ≽^• ⩊ •^≼ ₊˚⊹♡

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revolutionsingingintherainnn · 4 months ago

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Superstitions ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

Summary: Lando had been having a couple of bad races. His girlfriend had to do something about that.

➺ln x desi!reader ✧˖° ➺ hurt/comfort + fluff ✧˖°

masterlist ☾☼

Read Part 2 here

Lando had been so thankful for the summer break. He had been pushing and pushing, yet it never seemed enough. It was breaking him, mentally and physically. He didn’t know what he could do to be better. He was doing too little, even though he spent every second he could to be better. It wasn’t enough. He wasn’t enough.

His only solace during the break was his girlfriend, Y/N, flying in from India. You were not able to travel much for his races. You did watch every one of them, and constantly texted him throughout. The two of you also spoke before and after races. It was a routine for the both of you. One that Lando really appreciated.

You tried really hard to remind Lando that he was enough. He truly was, and sometimes, it baffled you that he couldn’t see what you saw. He stayed in depressive waves, and sometimes, all he could do was tell you how he should have done better in different parts of the past races. It was difficult, but you were being patient. You listened, and validated, and in the end, you reminded him that he would be better for the next race because he was working harder than most. Lando tended to ignore that part.

The previous night, Lando had cried in your arms. Heartbroken to the point that you could not understand what he was saying, but you knew it had to do with everything else happening. His grandmother, the races, everything. The man had fallen asleep in your arms just like that, and eventually, you had dozed off too.

The next morning, you were awoken by the sunlight flickering through the curtain. Lando was on his stomach, facing away from you now. He only had an arm around you. Slowly, moving his arm away, you stood. Staring at his sleeping face, you smiled a little, albeit sadly. There were dried tear tracks on his face, but he looked peaceful. He looked like he had finally gotten a break from his mind.

Remembering your goal, you quickly moved to where your suitcase laid open in the walk-in closet. You crouched down, and began quietly rummaging through, hoping that you had kept what you needed. Finding the item, you exited the room and tip-toed into the kitchen. You tried to be as silent as possible, knowing that Lando needed the rest. He hadn’t been sleeping, no matter what you tried, so you were not going to disturb his peace now.

Grabbing the scissors from the kitchen drawer, you made your way back to the bedroom where Lando was sleeping in the same position as you had left him. Brushing his curly hair from his forehead, you bent down and pressed a soft kiss. His breathing remained even, and you got to work.

Sitting on your knees at the foot of his bed, you carefully pulled Lando’s left leg towards you. Opening the roll of the black thread, you started wrapping it around his ankle, keeping a finger between his skin and the thread so that it was not too tight. You counted as you made three rounds, before you grabbed the scissors and cut the thread. Quickly tying a double knot, you let the black thread rest against his ankle. Standing up, you stared at the thread, matching yours, and smiled softly. You bent down and pressed a featherlight kiss on his ankle, and then disappeared to the walk-in closet to keep the roll of black thread back in.

You came from a land of superstitions. Anything and everything could become a superstition. From black cats crossing in front of you, to never saying anything harmful about yourself before leaving the house, you had lived and believed almost all of them. The black thread, or as known in your country, “kaala dhaaga” was worn on the left ankle as a symbol of well-being and protection. It was known to ward off negative influences and energies. You weren’t sure how much of it was true, but you had been wearing yours since you were a baby, and considering that you had a pretty great job and a pretty great family and a pretty great boyfriend, you thought that the belief was true.

You remembered when Lando had first asked you about yours. During the first few months that the two of you were dating, he had mentioned that it was a piece of jewellery that he could not understand. It did not have a charm or stone adorning it, yet he had never seen it off of your foot. You had explained the concept to him at that time, happy that he had been interested in knowing more about you and your culture. He had listened to every word, playing with the thread a little bit. He had kissed the thread once, and then the topic had changed.

Later, eventually when Lando woke up, close to noon, you were in the kitchen, prepping for lunch. You didn’t mention the thread, and neither did he. Lando wrapped his arms around your waist, pressing kisses into your shoulder, and squeezing your hips.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

You leaned back in his embrace, and said, “I love you.”

Lando hummed, still pressing kisses, “I love you. Thank you.”

Things would be okay. You could feel it.

✯ ━━━━━━ ✿ ✫ ✿ ━━━━━━ ✯

hi! this is the first time i'm writing a reader x celeb imagine! i hope you guys enjoyed this! i've also got a link for my taglist and requests that you can find here!

#lando norris #ln4 #f1 #lando norris imagine #lando norris x you #desi reader #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #ln4 x reader #ln4 imagine #ln4 fluff #formula 1 #formula one #lando x reader

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bucketsofmonsters · 6 months ago

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The Morning After

(A Sequel to Ace in the Hole)

A commission from the lovely @spoczkot :)

Cw: miscommunication, insecurity, gambling, oral sex, vaginal sex, tentacles, double penetration, sensory deprivation

male shadow monster x afab reader

Some beautiful art of our lovely shadow monster

Word count: 5k

Most days, you woke up suddenly, to an alarm or a nagging feeling that there was something you needed to do.

You absolutely hated it. The sudden shift from sleep to the waking world. It always left you feeling anxious and restless.

The best way to wake up in the morning was the was you were waking up now. Slowly, barely able to tell where your dreams ended and where the light, silky blankets began. You drifted slowly, softly, back into consciousness, and finally, when you were good and ready, you opened your eyes.

All you could see was black.

You blinked, confused and disoriented, half convinced you’d just forgotten to open your eyes.

When the darkness persisted, a spike of panic ran through you.

You wanted to reel backwards but you didn’t know where you were or what was blocking out your vision.

You felt a warm presence at your side and pulled away from it, sending yourself tumbling off the edge of the unfamiliar bed.

The bed. You could see it now, sprawled across the floor, tangled up in a blanket you’d ungraciously taken with you in your panicked frenzy.

A low voice grumbled from the bed, you presumed disturbed by the newfound lack of blankets and the sound of someone falling to the floor beside him.

You managed a sheepish smile as you gathered your bearings, the events of the night before surfacing in your mind.

You were here, with Nocturne.

A pitch-black face peeked over the edge of the bed as he rose from sleep more gracefully than you had.

“You having fun down there?” he asked, his morning voice a little gravelly.

You nodded, pushing his blankets back onto the bed as you clambered to your feet.

“Didn’t take you for that much of a clutz,” he said, a teasing lilt ever-present in his voice.

You smiled, sliding back under the covers. “I’m not really, I just don’t usually wake up blind. I feel like that’s excusable.”

He was so hard to read, his void of a presence difficult to gather coherent facial expressions from if you didn’t know what you were looking for, but you saw him tense for a moment before turning to the clock at his bedside.

“Fuck, I’m late.”

He rose from the bed in a hurry, haphazardly grabbing clothes from his closet and throwing them on, you all but forgotten in his bed.

You took the hint, rising beside him to grab your own things, admittedly in less of a hurry to leave than he seemed to be.

He paused, shifting to look over his shoulder to look at you as you gathered your things, pulling your clothes on quickly.

He shook his head. “No, you don’t have to leave. You can stay as long as you want.”

You knew he didn’t mean it, that he didn’t actually want you in his apartment on your own, but you appreciated the sentiment nonetheless, that he was at least being as gracious as he could.

You waved him off, working quickly towards making yourself scarce despite the feeling inside your chest tugging at you, pleading with you to stay.

But you didn’t want to stay, not really. Not with him gone.

Upon seeing that you were set on leaving he slowed, his frenzy calming seemingly to ensure he could leave with you.

It was a considerate gesture yet still it pulled a thread of guilt tight inside you, at inconveniencing him, holding him back from whatever he had to do.

You left at the same time, him being a perfect gentleman for you all the while, holding the door open for you and giving you a gracious nod as he headed on his way.

You spent most of your day debating whether or not you should show up at the casino that night. Would it look desperate? It probably would but to be honest, it wasn’t that far from the truth. Would he want you there?

When you got particularly nervous you couldn’t help but imagine him turning you away, deciding he was done with you, or pretending not to know you at all. You weren’t sure which would hurt worse.

But in the end, you couldn’t keep yourself away. It would take more self-control than you had on hand

You’d never been so nervous walking in before. It felt like everyone was looking at you. When you looked up, you saw Nocturne. His lack of features did nothing to disguise the fact he was staring at you.

You settled at his table, and he dealt cards while looking straight at you, his face entirely unreadable.

You had gotten no better at poker, despite his ‘lessons.’ In fact, you’d say you’d gotten much much worse.

You lost all your chips incredibly fast, not pacing yourself like you normally did, far too frazzled for that. In about an hour, your entire budget meant for your next visit was gone.

Part of you hoped maybe you’d be familiar enough with him soon that you wouldn’t need to come here every other week anymore. But maybe that was wishful thinking.

Everything in you wanted to go get more chips so you could return to his table with an easy excuse but you were already running ahead of what you should have spent this week.

So instead you waited, hoping he’d come up to you when his shift was done.

And so you sat, with about two hours ahead of you, waiting for midnight to come and for him to get off work.

You didn’t have much to do in the meantime. Normally you headed out as soon as you lost but part of you thought, or maybe just hoped, that he’d come talk to you.

Even if nothing came of it, you couldn’t leave without at least talking to him.

Not after last night.

You were incredibly bad at looking busy, it seemed, stirring a drink you didn’t want halfheartedly as you waited.

You tried not to feel too self-conscious. Other people were idling around you, you were far from the only loiterer, but you just felt like you were doing it wrong.

As long as you didn’t look too out of place, you supposed it didn’t matter.

And so there you sat, staring at the little whirlpool you’d formed in your drink as you waited, trying not to look up too much. You imagined it would only serve to make you look more nervous and flighty.

This determination to keep your head down meant that when someone cleared their throat next to you, you almost jumped out of your skin.

Your head jerked up to find a familiar, dark face.

He leaned back a little, looking almost sheepish. “Didn’t mean to startle you. Just wanted to say I’m sorry about this morning. I thought maybe you could come over again and I could make it up to you?”

“More lessons?” You weren’t sure if you were more excited or nervous about this turn of events.

What did he want? Just a repeat of last time? Probably. You set yourself on being grateful for it either way.

“Whatever you’d like.” He reached out to take your hand before clearly thinking better of it, pulling back as you followed him out of the casino and back to a familiar apartment.

The mood was decidedly different from the night before.

He shuffled off towards the kitchen immediately, looking back at you standing near the door.

“Come in,” he said, beckoning you forward. “What would you like?”

“What?”

He gestured back towards the kitchen. “To eat. I’m afraid I was a terribly rude host last night, I didn’t make you anything.”

You shook your head dismissively. “You weren’t rude.”

He shrugged. “Maybe. Anyways, what do you want.”

“You really don’t have to-” you tried to insist before he cut you off.

“And yet I’m going to. You’re not going to decide anything, are you? That’s fine. Do you like pasta?”

You gave him a small nod and he immediately started pulling out pots and boxes and fresh ingredients faster than you could keep track of them.

You wanted to help but you didn’t know where to start. He moved so swiftly and fluidly through the kitchen that it felt like any attempt to assist would hinder him more than anything.

You hesitantly moved to his side, asking a quiet, “What should I do?”

He gave you an amused glance. “Nothing. I’m making it for you, your job is just to sit back.”

You frowned, a crinkle forming between your brows. “I want to help.”

“You really don’t have to.” His voice was soft and low and you could feel your cheeks heat at the sound of it.

“But I want to,” you said, giving him what you hoped was a winning smile. “Now what are we making?”

He let out a fond little sigh and then put you to work. It was not lost on you that he was giving you the easiest tasks but you didn’t mind, you were happy with the compromise, so long as you were being helpful.

What made less sense to you than his insistence that you let him do most of the work was the way he made a point to stay away from you, keeping a careful distance as he moved gracefully about his tasks. Whenever you drew nearer to him he always found a convenient excuse to move to the other end of the kitchen.

At one point you reached out to grab the handle of a pan at the exact time he did and he pulled back before your hands had a chance to meet, almost like he’d been burned. You couldn’t help but worry you’d done something to upset him and that was why he was keeping his distance. But then why would he invite you here?”

So you tested the waters, intentionally bumping into him a few times, trying to make it as casual as you could.

He seemed nervous about it more than anything, almost leaning away as you got close to him.

You felt him go completely stiff as you brushed up next to him, your arms barely touching.

“You should be more careful,” he said, and you pulled away, embarrassment coloring your face.

But he hadn’t asked you to stop, he’d asked you to be more careful. Surely if he wanted you to stay away, he’d tell you as much.

So you pressed on, brushing up against him on occasion, desperate to figure out what was clearly making him uncomfortable so you could fix it.

The problem with touching him, which you wanted nothing more than to do, was it rendered you functionally useless. If you so much as bumped against him you were left grasping blindly for utensils and sticking your hands out in front of you to try desperately not to bump into anything.

It made you feel like an idiot. When he had to grab your hand to avoid you smacking it right into the hot stove that you would’ve sworn was feet away, you sheepishly stepped back from him, determined to stop making a fool of yourself.

But as soon as you both strayed far enough away from the stove you were back at his side, brushing against him again.

Your hand shifted around, feeling for a spoon in the dark, refusing to move away from his side as he just stood there. He wasn’t pulling away for once, you weren’t about to ruin this.

It wasn’t entirely unselfish. You wanted to touch him, you liked having him close. At least when he wasn’t desperately pulling away from you.

You heard a low chuckle and then a voice right next to you said, “Open your mouth,” his words moving hot air over your neck.

You did, patient and trusting, and were rewarded with a mouthful of warm food, delicious on your tongue.

“It’s amazing,” you declared, determined to show him how much you appreciated everything he was doing for you.

“Good, I’m glad.” You could practically hear the smile in his voice.

And then he pulled away and color bloomed back into your vision, leaving you feeling more disoriented than when it had been black.

“So what did you get up to today?” you asked, leaning back against the cold marble of the countertops.

He shrugged. “Nothing much, mainly just working.”

“Oh.” You’d hoped he’d at least pretend to have a reason he’d rushed off this morning.

You shouldn’t be here. You weren’t really sure why he’d invited you over at all. You’d clearly misread the situation, at least some part of it. He didn’t want to be close to you, had lied to you. All the evidence felt overwhelming. You were being a fool. There was nothing to figure out, you were taking advantage of his hospitality. He didn’t want you here, of course that was why he was pulling away. What other reason would there be?

His head cocked to the side. “What did I say? You look like a kicked puppy.”

“No, it’s fine, I can take a hint. I really didn’t mean to impose, now or this morning.”

He froze. “Oh my god, I forgot. This morning I was… I… No, you caught me, it was an excuse.”

You felt like the wind had been knocked out of you. “Right, understood. I should go.”

He reached out to grab you and then stopped, pulling back again. “Don’t go,” he settled for instead, sighing out the words with both of his hands firmly at his sides.

You shook your head. “I really don’t want to impose.”

“You’re not. It wasn’t an excuse for me.”

“What?”

“It wasn’t… I just wanted to give you an out.”

“An out? You were the one who left, you said I could stay.”

He sighed. “Not from my apartment, from me.”

You flinched back. “I get it, I understand not wanting some stranger to stick around, I promise in the future you can just tell me that. You didn’t have to lie.”

He groaned. “No, it’s not like that. I like you, I really do. You’re sweet. I thought you’d stick around just to be kind, I didn’t want to make you think you had to stay just because we slept together.”

You started to laugh as soon as he got the words out, unable to control the instinct. He stared at you in clear confusion until you managed to force out the words between giggles. “I was thinking the same thing about you. You know, I was trying so hard to be casual, I guess I fooled you a bit too well. Why would you think I wanted to leave anyway? I was clearly crazy about you. I was there constantly fawning over you and you thought I wanted to leave?”

“It’s not that crazy. I saw how scared you were when you woke up. I know I’m not exactly a convenient person to be around. Plenty of people are attracted to me, sure, it’s cool and sexy to be stuck in the dark like that, but it’s not something people want forever. People try blindfolds on for a fun, kinky night, they don’t do it every day. You can’t hold hands with me on walks, would have to avoid touching me if you wanted to do basically anything. I’ve been here before, the novelty wears off fast and I get left behind with it. Figured it was good to give you an out. And sometimes, maybe, it’s a little easier to leave first. Hurts less that way.”

You froze for a moment, unsure what to say. You leaned forward a bit, half intent on hugging him but as you watched him tense up once again, you leaned back into the counter.

“You know,” you began, choosing your words carefully, “I had the biggest crush on you for ages. It wasn’t just about your quick fingers and card tricks, although I have to admit, they didn’t hurt,” you said with a smile. “I first came there, to see you, because my friend said you were sweet. She said you made sure she felt safe there, that you kept a guy who was bothering her away. But more than that, you made her laugh afterwards, cheered her up. I had no idea how right she was. You always paid attention to me, made me laugh the whole time I lost, and let me hang around after. At first, I thought it was some sort of tactic, a way to get better tips, and I didn’t mind. But you never really seemed to pay that much attention to anyone else and I thought that it was awfully considerate of you to at the very least make sure I didn’t see when you did, to try and make me feel special, because surely that was all it could be. And even that gave me butterflies. You were so sweet and funny, but it couldn’t be anything more than that. So when you decided to take me home last night I was so excited not because it was some fun fantasy, but because it was you, and because you wanted me. You’re not a blindfold, you’re a person. And I can get gloves for walks or you can help guide me or.. I don’t know, I haven’t had much time to think about it, but I’m sure we could figure something out. If you wanted to, that is, I don’t…”

And then his mouth was on yours and the words you’d been saying faded away entirely.

His hand rose to cradle your cheek, holding you close, as he pulled you with him, slowly and steadily leading you somewhere, your mouths never parting.

The two of you fell back onto the couch and you didn’t even flinch at the movement. You trusted him, he wouldn’t let anything happen to you.

In the position you’d fallen into, you were on top of him, pinning him to the back of the couch.

He didn’t seem to mind, two of his tendrils snaking around your hips to pull you even closer, his hips just barely bucking up, begging for friction.

You gave it to him, grinding down on him as his tongue grazed the seam of your lips and you opened them to allow him inside.

He deepened the kiss eagerly, thumb stroking your cheek gently, sinking back into the couch to bring you further over him.

And then you smelled burning.

You pulled away from the kiss, trying to look towards the kitchen before realizing that you couldn’t.

He rose to try and meet your lips once more, tendrils trying to pull you back towards him.

You resisted the urge to give in to him, instead muttering a quiet, “Do you smell that?”

He flew off the couch and was in the kitchen in a second, taking the delicious food that had been basically finished and that you’d barely gotten a taste of off the stove.

He took a quick peek inside and you could tell in an instant that it was ruined as he dropped it into the sink with a sigh.

His hands rose to cover his face as he looked back at you, sitting disheveled on the couch and you swore if he were human, he’d be a bright red right now.

“I just wanted to make you dinner, oh my god,” he said, his voice muffled by his palms. “Some date this is.”

You perked up instantly. “This is a date?”

His fingers shifted open so he could look at you. “Maybe. If that’s alright with you.”

A delighted laugh escaped you, unbidden, before you were throwing yourself at him again, lips crashing together as you pulled his hands away from his face.

He took it in stride, hoisting you up onto the counter, which pulled a surprised little squeak from you.

His fingers hooked into the waistband of your pants, tugging them down impatiently. You lifted yourself a little on the counter to allow him to pull them down, pressing a gentle kiss to the inside of your thigh as he did.

“At last one of us should get to eat,” he muttered, nipping playfully at your thigh as you giggled, hands falling to tangle themselves in his hair.

It really was a shame, you decided, that you couldn’t admire him like this, between your thighs.

You whined out a quiet “please,” and he buried his face in your core in an instant, wasting no time and mercifully, making you beg no further.

He ate you out like a man starved, hands firmly pressed into your hips, holding you close, keeping you unmoving as you tried to buck into his face.

His tongue was longer than that of any man you’d been with before, snaking inside you before withdrawing so he could suck on your clit dutifully once more.

He didn’t so much as come up to breathe, lapping relentlessly at you. You were sure most of his face was covered with your wetness at this point and he couldn’t seem to care less.

You came like that, on his counter, his mouth working you over tirelessly.

Your back arched, shifting into him even further, practically fucking his face as you came.

Even as you came down from your orgasm he didn’t stop, tongue pressing deep inside of you as you let out whines of overstimulation.

You tugged him back by the hair and didn’t need your vision to be able to imagine the smug little self-satisfied look that was plastered across his face, You’d seen it more than enough times.

You shifted to move off the counter and his hands met your hips, pulling you off and making sure your feet reached the floor safely.

You smiled at him as he led you back towards the couch and you pressed a quick kiss to his lips.

“My turn,” you said, leaning down before a tendril wrapped around your chin and pulled you back up.

“No, stay up here with me.”

You gave him a teasing grin. “Come on. I mean, you were supposed to feed me.

His grip on you remained unrelenting. “Please. I want to kiss you,” he said, his voice softer.

Who were you to deny him that?

Nimble fingers moved down, gentle and careful with you as they pushed inside you, and his lips met yours once more.

He tasted of you, a little sweet, moans escaping him as you licked into his mouth, desperate to feel more of him.

His fingers pulled out of you soon after he’d begun touching you and you couldn’t help but whine in displeasure.

Almost instantly his fingers were replaced by something thicker. He held tight to you as he pressed inside, slowly, until your hips met.

The tendril inside you now, the one that sat right between his legs, refused to stay still, squirming around in your tight heat, pressing against you perfectly, your back arching up at the movements.

He buried his head in your neck, his hands and tendrils alike keeping you close to him, as close together as two beings could be.

“God, you feel so good, so good for me. My perfect girl.”

Your hips bucked up, try to get movement, to get more.

He pressed soft kisses across your face as you hurtled towards a second orgasm, approaching much faster than the first. You were too far gone to kiss him back properly but he didn’t seem to mind.

Everything was messy and disorienting and you couldn’t be more content in it all, gripping onto him, wanting everything he’d give you as long as he’d stay close like this.

You were more than happy to let him do the work, to surrender to the sensations

As his hand absentmindedly stroked your lips, pressing soft kisses to your forehead, you took his fingers in your mouth, sucking on them dutifully, wanting as much of him as you could get.

“If you wanted your mouth filled so badly you can have it, you just have to ask nicely.

You let out a pleading noise. Talking felt impossibly hard, your thoughts moving slowly but desperately towards things that felt much more important than words, reaching for him again.

In a moment, that was no longer an issue, a thick tentacle entering your waiting mouth, pressing down gently on your tongue, almost caressing as your mouth hung open.

You came a second time like that, with one of his tendrils in your mouth as he thrusted in a steady rhythm inside of you.

It was less slow and soft than the last one, hitting you suddenly and quickly, leaving you with nothing to do but hold onto him. You let out a cry and gripped him hard enough to leave bruises on any human as he fucked you through it.

The tendril currently in your mouth squirmed and you could practically feel him trying to keep it from pushing further inside,

You moaned around it, unable to do much more than that as he thrusted hard and unforgiving into you, the rocking of his hips moving you in time with him.

His arms held you as more and more of his tendrils snaked across your body, wanting to touch as much of you as they could, endlessly greedy.

He grunted out the word “close” and as soon as he did, your mouth was suddenly empty again before impatient lips pressed against yours. You swallowed down his moans as he came inside you. His grip on your hips remained tight and you thought it just might leave marks. You hoped it would, wishing you could leave any on him in return.

He pulled out of you with a little hiss and moved to walk away before your hand swiftly reached out, pulling him back toward you as quickly as you could.

“You’re not going anywhere,” you said as you tugged him into a tight embrace.

He chuckled. “As much as I appreciate the sentiment, I should clean us up.”

You leaned back into the couch with a huff before suddenly and without warning, you were being lifted.

You sunk into his embrace, more than happy to be carried around. The sound of a tap turning on came from beside you but you ignored it, leaning into Nocturne’s chest.

And then, unceremoniously, you were dropped onto a familiar, soft bed.

Your vision returned for barely a moment before it was gone again, a warm cloth being stroked across your skin as he sunk into bed beside you, quietly cleaning both of you off as you snuggled into the covers.

He tugged at your shirt and only now did you realize it was still on. It had been all but forgotten during sex but now he pulled it off indignantly, like it was a barrier too much. Like he needed to be able to touch you. He pulled it off with a little of your help, throwing it unceremoniously to the floor and burying his head in your neck.

“No running off tomorrow morning, right?” you asked as your fingers carded through his hair.

“Of course not,” he said, his breath tickling your skin as he spoke. “I think I owe you breakfast.”

You gave a content little hum, hoping breakfast tomorrow was at least a little more successful than dinner had been.

Or maybe, upon reflection, you wouldn’t completely mind a repeat of tonight.

But then, you wouldn’t mind a cozy breakfast either. Wouldn’t mind eating across from him, not touching for a while so you could have the time to admire him. Wouldn’t mind eating in the dark so you could lean against him as you ate.

No, you thought. You wouldn’t mind any of it.

His tendrils snaked around your arms and waist to hold you close, all but trapping you against him, pulling you into a little cocoon of warmth as one grabbed the blankets and tucked them carefully around you.

“Is this okay?”

You nodded, pressing a soft kiss into the closest one.

He let out a quiet groan, the tendril reaching to caress your face.

Amidst the nest of tendrils you found yourselves cuddling inside of, you felt his hand reach for yours, your fingers entwining with his.

“Next time,” he muttered, “I’m going to make you the best dinner you’ve ever eaten, mark my words.”

You felt your heart swell, holding him tighter as he spoke.

Next time.

#terato #terato writing #monster x reader #monster x human #monster boyfriend #monster bf #shadow monster #shadow monster x reader #shout out to my lovely commissioner #really happy with how this turned out and they are to thank for it <3

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woso-dreamzzz · 5 months ago

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Second Time's The Charm IV

Alexia Putellas x Reader

Summary: Alexia gets her puppies

His name was Kitchen Sink Putellas, though everyone just called him Sinky.

His name came about by accident just like him.

Alexia would say that it was fate. You could swear she had set you up for it.

It had happened on one of your night walks.

Maya was a bit of a restless baby so you had found that going out for a little walk in the early evening was good to get her to fall asleep without too many tears.

You were pushing her pram gently as Alexia chattered your ear off about getting a puppy. With the house fully completed and all three of you moved in, Alexia was adamant about getting Maya a puppy.

She seemed to forget that you already had a family pet in the form of old Mr Stinky, the extremely senior cat that you had gotten at seventeen from your parents.

At thirteen years old now, he was very slow and slept a lot but he was your little furbaby and you just adored him.

Alexia, less so but she had always been a dog person, which was why you weren't surprised when you saw she had adopted little Nala.

Even through social media, you could see just how much she adored Nala and just how heartbroken she was when Nala unexpectedly passed away.

You could still see the pain lingering in her eyes now when she spoke about getting a puppy for Maya.

Alexia had adored Nala and hadn't thrown a single thing away, still packed up in a box she thought she had hidden in the back of the closet.

You got into a relationship with Alexia knowing she was a dog person and, while she secretly loved Mr Stinky, you knew no animal would come close to being loved like how a dog would be loved.

You had already been convinced weeks ago but you weren't letting Alexia know that. You were curious to see just how far she was willing to go.

You were focused completely on Maya's sleepy face as Alexia spoke. You hadn't even noticed she stopped talking until you turned to look at her.

She was crouched on the ground, her hand offered out to a little puppy on the side of the road.

"Hi, little guy," She cooed," It's okay. I'm here to help."

The little puppy whined, taking a step forward before retreating again when Alexia reached for him.

"It's okay," She said again," Come here. Let's get you some help."

He was a tiny thing. Absolutely tiny and he shook in Alexia's arms when she finally managed to pick him up.

You reached into Maya's baby bag to pull out a spare blanket, helping Alexia to wrap him up nice and warm.

"We need to take him home, amor," Alexia said, suddenly deadly serious," I can't see his Mama anywhere. He is alone."

You glanced around the area, brows furrowed.

Alexia took that as refusal and she looked ready to get on her knees. "Amor, please! You cannot think we should leave him here!"

"Take the puppy and Maya home, Alexia," You said, whipping out your phone," He doesn't look old enough to be weaned. I'll try and find him some food. I'll meet you back at the house."

You watched Alexia gently place the blanket wrapped puppy in Maya's pram with her before sprinting down the street with the speed only a professional athlete could possess.

It was late out but you paid extra for puppy milk and wet food to be delivered in a few hours. It was a flimsy excuse to make but you just couldn't shake the thought that this puppy wasn't completely alone.

It wasn't a rural area that you lived in but there was a park that backed into a little wooded area and surely you would have noticed if the puppy had been dumped in a box.

You flicked on your phone light to wander through the park. You checked everywhere you could before you came across a little bush.

The soft barks were enough to confirm your suspicions and your heart broke at the sight.

She was panting heavily, lying on her side as a throng of puppies drank from her. A heavy stick of wood was planted firmly in the ground and a piece of rope was fixed like a noose around her neck.

She wasn't aggressive as you released her. If anything, she sagged in relief and allowed you to gently stroke her fure.

She was some kind of collie though in the low light, you couldn't quite tell what kind.

You'd had a rough collie as a child. Good old Mr Porkchop who had been put down when you were eleven.

He had always been well looked after though, the pride of your father's life. This collie was nothing like Mr Porkchop though and you dialled Alba instantly.

"Alba? Can you come to the park near our house? I'm going to need your help."

Alexia was desperately working at the kitchen sink when you came in. Her sleeves were pushed up to her shoulders as she desperately scrubbed at the little puppy, trying to get him all warm.

A ring of soap was around his neck.

Clearly, she had listened to your lecture a few weeks ago about how it prevented fleas from climbing onto the heads of animals.

"Amor!" She called out behind her after hearing the front door open," I'm just getting him washed! I put him up on the counter while I changed Maya into her pjs but he fell in! I think he's chosen his name!"

"Alexia?"

"I know it will be a lot of work," She continued," But I promise I will take great care of him. We can set him up next to one of the portable heaters tonight and I've got the day off tomorrow so I'll take him to the vet and-"

"Alexia."

"I know you said Maya is still young and I know you think keeping a puppy this little is dangerous but-"

"Alexia Putellas!"

She turned. "What is-?"

"I found his Mama and siblings," You said plainly, leading the mama in gently as Alba trailed behind you with the other puppies," I've ordered food already and we'll have to take them in to the vet tomorrow."

"Amor..."

"Now." You gently guided the mama to a pile of pillows as Alba reunited her puppies with her. "What's this about his name?"

The puppies and mama were all healthy or, at least on their way to being healthy. The mama had no collar and no microchip. The vet theorised she was part of some puppy mill because she was barely out of puppyhood herself.

You knew by Alexia's face that you would be keeping them all. The Mama, Sinky and his extra three sisters.

You were nervous about it all but Alexia really took the reigns, a far cry from the thirteen-year-old version of her that once cried when you made her leave a cute dog being walked by its owner at the park.

Maya adored the puppies as well and seemed to know to be gentle. Even Mr Stinky seemed to enjoy their presence, taking shifts when the mama was sleeping to make sure that none of the puppies got into mischief.

Mainly, you were impressed about how long it took Alexia to spill about having puppies in the house.

Four weeks since you found them and you finally allowed Alexia to take them into training.

"I'll be out with the others soon," Alexia promised as she wrapped Sinky up in a blanket.

"Ale," You said," He doesn't need the blanket anymore. He's a big boy."

"He's a baby!" Alexia insisted, wrapping him up like a baby in a swaddle.

You rolled your eyes. "Go and bring out your teammates, Ale."

She practically skipped into the locker room with her little bundle of blankets.

Mapi was the first one she noticed and paled dramatically. "No!" She declared," No, you can't be serious, Alexia! You've already got one baby! You can't have gotten another one so soon!"

"Don't be silly, Mapi!" Alexia laughed," We didn't get another baby. Now yet anyway."

"Then what is that?!"

"Sinky!"

Sinky barked happily as he was uncovered by the blankets.

Ingrid rubbed Mapi's back as she hid in her girlfriend's neck.

"Sinky?" Keira echoed," Like Sinclair from Canada?"

"Don't be silly," Alexia said," Because it's short for Kitchen Sink, which is his name."

Mapi might have burst into tears.

"But there's more!" Alexia continued," Come on, come on! I'll show you!"

She sprinted out of the room and her teammates scrambled to keep up with her.

She'd traded in her old Cupra a few weeks ago for a much more family friendly minivan and she pulled open the door.

The first and most obvious thing everyone saw was Maya, happily in her seat waving one of her stuffed toys to the tune of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star which was playing in the car.

The next was the beautiful brown and white Border Collie, Lady. You had laughed a little bit about the name Alexia had bestowed upon her, making a joke about her enjoying naming dogs after Disney characters.

Sweet Lady sat in the seat next to Maya, laying her soft head on your baby's legs.

Her three remaining puppies wrestled in the stair well and all came falling out as soon as the door was open.

"Oh no," You heart Mapi say.

Alexia smiled triumphantly. "Oh yes!"

#woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso

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luvyeni · 6 months ago

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THE DEMON IN MY CLOSET • SIM JAEYUN

pairing ‎⸝⸝⸝ demon!jaeyun wc. 6.1k+

𓄷 warnings... smut mdni. mentions of abuse. mentions of death. oral (f. receiving). unprotected sex. softdom jake.

nia's notes: here's the first installment of the series, i hope you guys enjoy it 🖤 you sunghoon's is next .

lucifer masterlist | sunghoon

You were taken from me…

So pray for me and I'll burn for you …

A week inside this house; and things have been interesting to say the least— no your grandmother hasn't come back to haunt you yet; but the house does seem colder, like cold enough for you to walk around in your sweater all the time; you even tried to turn the thermostat up, but that did nothing.

Then it was the damn lights; you knew it was an old house; but that didn't stop you from tensing up in fear whenever the lights would flicker when you would walk down the hall, almost like the lights would follow you with every step; it felt like someone was there, controlling them, watching you, timing your steps with the lights— it creeped you the fuck out.

And you can't forget your closet door; the door that refused to close no matter what; well no refused to stay closed. you chalked it up to the door being broken so it wouldn't stay closed; just pushing a shoe in front of it when you sleep to keep yourself sane in the darkness.

Besides those things everything else was fine, you had gotten rid of mostly everything out of the house, the wifi guy coming to set up the internet— which took you all day to your demise, having 5 random men in the house while you basically just stood there awkwardly.

On a better note; you had to go back into the town for groceries, where you met huening kai; a cute boy who worked as a cashier in the supermarket— so you did find yourself going to that grocery store 3 more times that week; having enough groceries to last you a while.

“He's super cute.” you threw the keys to the house on the counter, placing the new set of groceries on the table. “yeah he must be, you're gonna go broke.” Yeji said over facetime, you laughed while opening the fridge to put the food up. “you’re laughing, I'm serious; in this economy you're spending money on groceries you don't need.” she said. “Well I mean you practically are rich now, so I guess it doesn't matter to you.”

“No, my parents are rich now, and that's only because my grandmother was Lucifer's wife in her past life and—” You heard a snicker, which made you freeze. “The hell?” You said, putting your 3rd bottle of milk into the fridge. “What is it?” You heard Yeji's voice through the phone. “It sounded like I heard someone just laugh.” You closed the door to the fridge. “Lord you're going crazy up there baby, hearing voices.”

“Not voices, a chuckle.” You said , walking to your room. “Girl that's scarier I fear.” and like clockwork, the damn closest door was wide open again. “This fucking door.” You slammed it shut. “What's with the door?” You sighed , fiddling with the necklace. “I close it and it's open, I even put a shoe, the shoe must not be strong enough.” You said. “Or you have a ghost.” She said, gasping. “Maybe it's your grandma, you should get an ouija board.” she said. “Should I?” You teased, clearly the “wind” didn't like that because your door to the closet creaked open.

“Sorry the monster in my closet doesn't agree with that.” You joked around, getting up, closing the door, putting a book in front of it. “Just a suggestion.” Yeji shrugged, your hand going back to that necklace. “Girl you are obsessed with that damn necklace.” She said, “You've touched it like 20 times since we've been on the phone.” You looked down on the necklace. “I don't know, I'm addicted to it, it's so pretty.” you said. “It is, it's giving vintage in the best way, where'd you get it?”

“It was my grandmothers I guess. I found it sitting in a jewelry box while cleaning out her room.” You explained. “It was the only thing in there.” you said. “Cute, probably from the 1600s, you know when your grandmother was born.” You rolled your eyes. “She was 85.” She shrugged. “Ask your mom, it looks expensive, maybe a family heirloom.”

“I did, she said, growing up, her grandmother never mentioned a family heirloom, she didn't even talk to her family.” You said, shrugging it off. “Whatever it is, or wherever it came from I'm glad I found it before my mom did , then it would've gone to my 17 year old cousin, who probably would've pawned it.”

“I have to go now girl, I've got a date.” Yeji said after about another hour of talking. “Good for you.” you said with a little bit of jealousy. “Hey you still have the cute grocery boy.” You sighed. “Yeah, who lives in the town 30 minutes away.” you said. “Hey, I guess you have to go buy more milk.” She heard her laugh, you scoffed. “Oh haha I hope your date fucks you tonight and doesn't let you finish.” You heard her gasp, hanging up laughing.

You found yourself in the kitchen cooking yourself some dinner; why let the groceries go to waste? sitting the food down on the table, you could've taken it to your room , but the closet thing crept back up on you, scaring you— you know you could change rooms; it wasn't like the house was lacking space, but you couldn't be bothered to move your things, you weren't staying there for long anyway.

Finishing your food, you put the plate in the sink, ready to go back to your room— laughing when a message from Yeji calling you bitch because her date sucked. You were almost to your room, when you heard a noise. No, a crash coming from your bedroom. You freeze right in your spot; that wasn't a figment of your imagination— that was actually coming from your bedroom— the noise was coming from your bedroom.

Now the rational side of your brain was yelling at you to run like hell and then call the damn police like a smart person, but your feet clear wanted to die because you found yourself creeping back to the room, slowly opening the door, it was eerily silent and it felt even colder than usual— and then you noticed it; the closet door was open, the door you knew you closed; and the book you had put in front of the closet? it was across the room.

Was there a person in this house? the police station was 30 minutes out, if you were to call them, you'd be dead by time they got here and that's even if you get a chance to call them— and that's even worse because no one would even bother to come check the house, you didn't know huening kai well enough for him to care about you, and every know that's the former lady of the house died; so by time your dead body would be found, it would most likely be by your parents and it would be all decomposed.

You were freaking out now mentally, scared to move in case a person was in your closet— then you didn't hear anything; surely if someone was in there they would've come out already. You stand up straight , goosebumps all over your arms as you go up to the closet, swinging it open— and nothing; it was nothing in there. You didn't dream it , it wasn't all in your head, you heard the crash, anyone would've heard it.

Swinging the closet door fully open, looking around inside, there was nothing in there but your clothes, and your shoes— your shoes that you put neatly on the inside, now all over the floor; you weren't staying in here another night— you'd drive the 30 minutes into the town of you had to, slamming the the closet door closed. “I got to get the hell out of here.” You whipped around to run out the room.

“Don't go.” A voice that damn sure didn't come out of you spoke. “Please don't go, he'll be mad at me if you do.” there he was sitting on your bed, the jewelry box that was sitting on your nightstand in his hand. “Wait please.” your eyes widened, your mouth open ready to scream. “Don't scream.” he said, jumping up covering your mouth. “This isn't going well, please don't scream.”

He was touching you, looking you dead in your eyes begging you not to scream. “I'm gonna let go now, please don't scream, I'm not here to hurt you .” You nodded, and he slowly let his hand uncover your mouth, putting them by his side. “See, I'm not gonna hurt you.” the boy said, you forced yourself to speak. “wh-who— I have money in my bag, it's over there, please just take it.” he was now confused. “I-i have jewelry too , the lady here had a bunch, it's all real.”

You went to take all the jewelry you were wearing off as well reaching for the necklace sitting on your necklace, so ready to give him anything so he'd just leave you. “Wait, no don't take that off!” He stood up , making you step back, trying to run out. “If you take that off , it might complicate things.”

“W-what?” you took another step back, him following forward. “wh-who are you?” He smiled like he wasn't in your room unwanted. “Im jaeyun.” He introduced himself. “But you can call me Jake, all my friends call me jake.” Friends? He was an intruder. “I'm not an intruder, I live here.” He said— you didn't say that out loud. “I-i won't call the cops, please just leave.”

“I live here, why would I leave?” He seemed confused. “No, m-my grandmother lived here,” he nodded. “So did I.” He said matter of factly. “I lived here longer than her actually.” he said, the door closing behind you making you jump. “I see you backing up, I told you I'm not gonna hurt you.” Your bottom lip trembled in fear. “You did that?!” You said. “Wh-what are you? a ghost?”

He laughed. “No, of course not.” He said. “I'm a demon.” You were going crazy? No , you were dreaming, this was just a weird nightmare. “You're not dreaming, I'm not that kind of demon.” He said. “You-you’re reading my mind, you're closing doors.” he nodded, “you're a demon?” He repeated the head movements. “I'm gonna pass out.”

“Please don't, I'll be in trouble if you get hurt.” He said. “Please i just wanted to talk to you, I've been watching you since you moved in, I was the one who sat the necklace out for you to find, even though that's against the rules; you're actually supposed to find it yourself, but things were different this time.”

“W-what do you want?” you said , he stepped forward once more; and you moved back in reflex. “I wanted to meet you.” He looked like he seemed to know you very well. “meet me? why?” He went silent, like he was trying to find out what to say; he couldn't just say what he wanted right now, you're already freaked out. “you're pretty, I guess that's why.”

“Look there's no need to be scared , okay?” He said. “I'm not gonna hurt you I promise.” He said. “None of us really want to hurt you.” None of us? “There's more of you?” You said. “Shit I can't say more okay, please just know we won't hurt you? Okay?” Before you could do anything else, he reached up , holding the pendent in his hand. “You won't be harmed.” and that's it- he was gone, he disappeared with a blink of an eye; like he never existed.

Like hell you were going to sleep to night, you didn't even bother to turn the light; you will still trying to convince yourself it was just weird freaky dream and you’d wake up from, but when the damn sum started to rise, you finally had to come to the crazy unbelievable conclusion— he was real, there was a demon in this house; you also had to admit your mom was somewhat right about the house being haunted.

you knocked out right then and there, the boy from the night before was there again, he wasn't saying anything though, just staring at you— smiling at you, but it wasn't the puppy like smile he sported last night , it was a sinister one, and his cute brown eyes; they now were red and glowy, what you expect a real demon to look like; but he said he could go into your dream? “He did? little jakey is a liar now.”

You shot up, breathing heavily; clutching your chest. “What the hell?” you tried to catch your breath. “What the hell was that?” safe to say you'll probably never sleep again as long as you're in this house.

Dragging your body out of bed; your shower was quick, scared that someone was watching you, making sure to wrap yourself in a towel, basically running back to your room, closing the door to get dressed— peeking out the door to see if he was out there. When you didn't see him , you stepped outside, creeping down the hallway. “What are you doing?”

You yelped, spinning around; he stood there. “oh I'm sorry.” he said. “I didn't mean to scare you.” He reached out , but you stepped back. “I told you I wasn't gonna hurt you.” He said. “How can I trust you, not when you lied to me?” You said, he tilted his head. “You can come into my dreams.” His eyes widened. “Who told you that?” He said. “So you can?” He was silent. “Can you?” You repeated. “Well yeah but I didn't go into your dreams yesterday.”

“But you have.” He scratched the back of his neck. “It was the third night after you found the necklace.” He said. “You um, it was uh.” His ears were turning red, you understood what he meant. “I hid in the closet.” He said. “So you're a pervert?” He shook his head. “No, I didn't go into them anymore I swear.” he was a demon; how could you trust a demon. “That's understandable, who'd be crazy enough to trust a demon?”

“If you want me to even attempt to trust you, stay outta my mind.” you said, he held his hand up, putting it to his chest. “I swear.” He said, you nodded. “Fine.” You said. “But I have questions.”

“I reckon you don't eat eggs?” You said. “I don't eat anything, I don't need to.” He said, you nodded. “Of course you don't.” You sat down at the table. “Sit down, you're standing is creeping me out.” he smiled sitting down. “So ask me anything, I can answer everything you want.”

“Who the hell was in my dreams last night?” It was his turn to tense up. “I can't exactly tell you why he was in the dream, but that was sunghoon, you can only see him in in dreams for now?” He said. “and why is that?” He chewed his bottom of his lip. “because he doesn't want to see you yet.” You heard him whisper under his breath. “Is he dangerous?” You said. “Well no , not exactly.” You stopped chewing your food. “what does that mean?” You questioned. “He won't hurt you.” He said. “Hopefully.”

“What does any of this have to do with this necklace?” You said. “Well I actually don't know too much about that either.” He said, you scoffed. “what do you know?” You said. “Well that necklace is why I'm here today, well that and because I want you to see me.” You perked up. “So without the necklace I wouldn't be able to see you?” he nodded. “Not exactly, anyone could see us if we wanted them to, we're bonded with the necklace, and now that you've worn it, we're bonded with you.”

“You keep saying we, are you talking about the one who was in my dream?” he nodded. “no not sunghoon, jay.” He answered. “You can't see him either?”

“He doesn't want to see me?” He shrugged. “He just likes to observe most times.” He explained. “He's been here the longest so I understand, he doesn't adjust well to people who have the necklace.” he frowned. “Bunch of bad experiences.” You held your head. “You okay?” He asked, concerned. “It's all too much , I feel like my head is gonna explode.”

He wants to reach over the table and grab your hand, he almost is compelled to; but he doesn't want to scare you even more , so he just sits in silence, letting you come to terms with everyone. “Look.” He was the first to speak up. “I get this is a lot to take in, so I'll give you some space.” He said. “When you're ready, just call for me.” Before leaving he said one more than. “Any time you call for me I'll be there, just like before.”

You don't call for him for the next few days, trying to just wrap your head around everything he told you— which wasn't much, but before moving here you believed there was no such thing as demons, so it was a lot for you. You tried to call your mom, but what you tell her; the house has demons; but only you can see them, but you can only see one because one is too traumatized for some reason to show himself; and the other doesn't want to see you and may or may not want to kill you— that would get you locked away in a padded room.

You tried to talk to Yeji the best way you could, but of course she thought you were just having nightmares— you wish it was just a nightmare that you were having. You even walked around the house, trying to find something; anything to make some sense of it; maybe Jake was useful, at least he cured your boredom. “You're not gonna find anything.”

You turned around, glaring. “I didn't call you.” He nodded. “not with your mouth no, but you did say my name.” He said, pointing to his head. “What did I say?” you said. “I'm sorry.” He said. “I just really wanted to see you, it's been 4 days, I missed you.” You smiled, he was kinda cute for a being that was probably centuries years old. “How old are you?”

“Well me i've only been here 100 years.” he said like it was normal. “I told you I've been here for a while.” you nodded. “Yeah a long time.” He laughed. “Not as long as my brothers , but long enough.” He said. “Did you know my grandmother?” He looked uncomfortable. “Your grandma was a scary woman.” He shifted in his seat. “What do you mean by that?” You asked , he shook his head. “It's not my story to tell, just know she wasn't a nice person, and I've met my fair share of not nice people.”

What did she do that had this century old demon so scared? “Well I didn't know her, she and my mom never got along.” You said. “Oh I know, we listened to them argue all the time, I was happy when your mom left , she didn't have to endure the abuse your grandmother put her through. He frowned. “Abuse?” you never heard about any abuse from your mother. “Oh she never told you?” You shook your head no. “Your grandmother was cruel to her , hitting and yelling at her; she would even lock your mom in a closet when she'd misbehave; your grandfather tried to stop it but your grandma, she was evil to everyone.”

That made you angry; all those years you spent telling your mom that she probably wasn't that bad, and that they just needed to make up— you felt sad because your mom couldn't tell you. Jake saw your face drop, he grabbed your hand. “But I know you aren't like that, I can tell you're different.” He said. “I believe we've bonded with the perfect person.”

He was so sweet; how could someone like him be a demon. “You don't seem like someone who'd be a bad person in life , how did you become a demon?” He looked down at the table. “Did I say something wrong?” He shook his no. “Of course not.” He toyed with his fingers. “I won't lie and say there are bad demons; of course there are,” he said. “But some of us made decisions; did things that made us like this.” He said. “And what did you do?”

“I sold my soul.” He started, “I sold my soul for the person I love.” You sat back in the seat. “So you were a human?” He nodded, smiling. “It was a lot different from today when I was a human, but I've learned to adjust throughout the time periods.” He explained. “I was tricked.” He said, “Her name was Grace, she was the love of my life, I knew I was gonna spend the rest of my natural human life with her.” his smile dropped. “But she got sick; really sick and she was gonna die, and I couldn't have that, I needed her, I felt like I couldn't breathe with her.”

He looked so broken retelling the story. “He feeds off of vulnerability, he felt how desperate I was; he came to me when she was days away from death; he said your life for hers— I should've read the fine print I guess.” He chuckled. “I thought he'd kill me right then and there, but no he'd said he'd be back.” He said. “He came back a few years later, I died of the same sickness she did, ironic huh?” You didn't know if you should laugh, so you just nodded. “I watched her grieve, and I watched her grow old; she got remarried again, and had children— then I watched her die.” He said. “Then he sent me here, and I saw again— my grace; except her name wasn't Grace, it was Laura, but she had her soul, she found the necklace; but she didn't remember me, I tried to explain it to her but she didn't believe it.” He said. “Then I realized my punishment; I have to watch her die; I have to watch her soul die over and over.” He said looking back up at you. “That's why I feel so drawn to you; you have her soul.”

“M-me?” He nodded. “Don't be frightened I know it's weird.” He said. “I didn't believe in reincarnation either; until this.” He said; you didn't believe it either, but given the situation; you don't know what to believe anymore— he was literally telling you that you have the soul of his dead girlfriend from over 100 years ago. “Please tell me you believe me?”

“It sure is a lot to take in.” You started. “But I don't believe you'd tell me this if it wasn't true.” He perked up with a smile. “Really, you believe me?” He said, you slowly nodded. “I guess I do.” You said. “Wow , they don't normally believe me, and years go by and they all get married or live good lives and soon they forget about the necklace and put it back then the bond is broken and they don't even think about us.”

“Are all your stories like that?” He shook his head. “No, we've all different stories, different reasons we ended up like this.” He said. “Mistakes we've made.”

He stayed around longer , telling you everything he could about himself; you even told him about stuff in your life; how you recently graduated from college and plan to start work at a company after the summer. “So that means you'll leave soon?” You questioned. “Will you keep the necklace?” He asked. “When you take the necklace off you break the bond between us.” He said; you hadn't even thought about it yet; how would this even work in the city? you can't even explain this to anybody. “I don't know, but it's a little early to answer that.” You saw him frown. “Don't get too upset though, okay nothing is set in stone yet.” You reassured , he smiled. “Okay.”

You eventually fell asleep, exhausted from the day. Jake sat at the end of the bed; just watching you, the air entering and leaving your body, lightly snoring; you were so pretty; he could feel graces soul in you, but it also felt like something new, you were a breath a fresh air— he'd only known you for a few days , but he'd been watching you since the first day you got here, he liked you. “stop staring at her, you look like a creep.”

He looked up where he stood. “why'd you go in her dream?” The boy shrugged. “Fun, seeing her scared; why'd you lie , didn't want her to know you were creeping on her in her dreams” Jake stood up. “Let's go, Jay is probably waiting.” He looked back at you, where you were sleeping comfortably— he smiled.

This gradually progressed after he told you his life story; you actually started to call out to him more, letting him be around you and getting to know what he was like now; as a demon and all, you showed him all your favorite shows, he said he was still able to leave the house so he was caught up— they all were they just chose to stay up here in the house. “Plus it would be hard explaining to elderly folks in this town why they were still the same age from when they were young.” and that you understood.

Sitting on the couch one day; watching lucifer— it was his request. “This is a great depiction of him really, the actor in this is much more handsome though.” You turn to him. “Of course Lucifer in real life is much more terrifying and has absolutely no feelings.” He said his personality was so human-like , it was like he wasn't even a demon. “you don't really act like a demon.” You said. “Sure I could be angry about my situation and turn evil, but it's hard to be mad when I did this to myself.” He said. “I sold my soul to the devil.” He shrugged it off.

“Do you ever regret it?” He nodded. “It's not easy grieving the loss of someone you loved over and over and they don't even remember you.” he said. “And keeping up with the trends of course , I mean sometimes I would rather be dead than listen to anything these kids talk about today.” You giggled. “What?” He said. “You say these kids , with the most youthful looking face, it's funny.” he laughed, pouting. “Hey I'm at least 122 years older than you.” That made you laugh even harder. “That doesn't help at all.”

“Hey, stop laughing.” He smiled. “Stop it right now.” You couldn't. “So you won't stop.” before you could react, he was on top of you. “So keep laughing.” He began to tickle your sides , Jake laughed as you began to gasp for air. “Jake, stop it.” you shouted. “Okay , okay I'll stop.” You said , throwing your hands up in defense. “I'm done.”

“You're gonna stop?” You nodded. “I swear.” He took away his hands from your side; but he was still on top of you, basically straddling you, looking down at you. “That wasn't fa—” his lips were on before you could finish the sentence, your eyes widened as he quickly pulled back. “shit I'm so sorry.” he cursed at himself. “It's okay.” You tried to calm him down. “It's not a bi—” before you could even finish, he was gone. “jake?” You called him, then you called him again; then again— but he never came.

He didn't come for another 4 days, and those days felt like torture; you roamed the halls just calling out for his name— desperate you know, but that's what you were, desperate. You missed his company. You missed him; to the point you'd wish he'd show up in your closet again.

“You can call more, living your life in seclusion can't be healthy.” Yeji said. “it's not total seclusion.” You said, wondering the halls like you found yourself doing. “the grocery boy doesn't count.” You rolled your eyes. “I'm not talking about him either.” You were referring to the demon who managed to make you go insane without his presence— maybe that's his evil. “Well unless you got a pet then I'm not sure what you're talking about.”

“It's nothing, just saying nonsense.” You said. “Maybe I should come up there and visit you.” She said, “No you don't have to, I don't want to ruin your summer.” You said, also you didn't want her to find out about any of this. “Enjoy your summer fun and I'll see you soon back in the city.” She hummed. “Well make sure you eat enough food okay?” She said, “And try to socialize.” she said before hanging up.

You went back to your room, calling his name once more; but you knew he wasn't gonna answer. “I'm here.” You shot up, hearing that voice you've missed for the past 4 days. “Jake.” He sat down on the bed. “You said if I call you'd answer.” You frowned. “I know.” He looked down. “Why'd you leave like that?” He didn't say anything, and it just made you angry. “If you're just gonna stand there and not say anything, then go back to wherever you came from.”

“You don't mean that.” He said. “And how do you figure?” You questioned your eyebrow lifting. “Because you've called out for me for the past four days.” He started. “And I read your mind.” You glared at him. “Fine I'm sorry.” He said. “I didn't mean to leave you alone , I really didn't mean to hurt you y/n , you gotta believe me.”

“Well you did, you ran away.” You said. “and I'm sorry, I was just scared.” He said. “Scared that you'd get scared and take the necklace off, try and break the bond.” He said. “I shouldn't have kissed you , I know it was wrong , but please don't hate me.” He was rambling. “I didn't hate the kiss.” He stopped. “You didn't?”

“You would've known that had you not run away like a coward.” He nodded , you were rightfully upset— and you genuinely wanted to be pissed at him, but you couldn't, that's how much you missed him. “y/n , look—” before he could say anything , you practically threw yourself into his lap , kissing him. “You mmph missed me that much.” He said in between kisses. “Shut up.”

You grabbed his face, his hands wrapping around your waist, basically lifting you up as your lips danced against each other. “Fuck I love this so much.” He groaned , laying you down on the bed; his body hovering over yours , grinding his hips against yours, you felt his cock pressing against your clothed cunt. “Wanted to do this since the first day you walked through those doors.” His hands caressed your face, slowly making his way down your body; your body reacting to his touches. “J-jake.” You whimpered. “Need you so much Jake.”

He began to attack your neck with kisses, his hands working on your shorts; unbuttoning them, kissing down your stomach. “Do you want this?” he questioned, you nodded. “words darling, I need words.” You moaned as he pulled down your shorts. “Please Jake , it hurts so bad” you were so needy, not having a time to pleasure yourself; well that and the fact you didn't feel comfortable knowing there were three demons in the house who could see you.

he threw your shorts somewhere, his eyes full of need as he turned back to you. “So pretty.” He ran up your clothed slit. “So wet.” you let out a moan as he kissed your cunt. “T-take them off.” Your hands tugged at his roots. “Fuck okay.” He groaned, the sensation from you pulling on his roots , making his cock twitch, pulling your panties down.

He finally got rid of your panties, leaving you bare waist down. “Fuck you're dripping.” He kissed the inside of your thighs, “smell so good.” He licked your folds. “Sh-shit.” Getting a taste of your sweet cunt, sent the demon into a frenzy, desperate to taste you more. “Fuck Jake!” He held your thighs open as he sucked on your clit.

He continued the assault on your pussy, his nose brushing against your clit , you felt your orgasm reaching and fast. “Fuck Jake fu-fuck I'm not gonna last.” You moaned. “I'm cumming!” You screamed, yanked at his hair harder as you came, your legs shaking as he ate you out through your orgasm, taking in everything you had to offer him. “shit.”

He forced himself away before he made you cum in his mouth over and over; plus his cock was so hard, he felt like he was gonna burst if he did fuck you. “You're so fucking addicting.” He cursed , his body hovering over yours. “Need to fuck you.” He groaned , palming himself. “Please.”

You reached in between your bodies , unbuckling his pants. “Please fuck me.” You pushed his pants down , he stood up , fully taking them off; climbing back into the bed , freeing his cock from his underwear. “You want my cock?” He moaned , rubbing the head of his cock along your slit. “Want me to fill this pussy?” You nodded moaning his name. “Please jake , please fuck me.”

He wasted no time , pushing his cock into you, both of you moaning out in pleasure; rocking his hip slowly , letting his cock drag along your walls. “Oh fuck , you're so fucking tight.” He groaned , his hand coming up to your boobs , squeezing it; your hips bucked up , matching the roll of his hips. “You feel so good.” Your nails clawing down his back. “Fuck if you that I'm gonna cum.”

His thrust began to become less coordinated , his abdomen tightening. “I’m gonna cum.” He whimpered against your lips. “M-me too.” His hands came in between your legs , rubbing your clit. “Cum for me baby , cum all over my cock.” Your legs stiffened , your back arching as you came. “that's it , keep cumming on my dick— shit I'm gonna cum.” His eyes rolled to the back of his head , the band snapping in his stomach. “Fuck I'm cumming!”

He let out a moan , feeling his cum sticking to your walls. “Sh-shit.” He slowly pulled out , his cum leaking out of you. “So pretty.” He let his cock rub against your messy folds , smearing his cum. “So messy.” he tapped his mushroom top on your bud. “You did so good , took my cock like a good girl.” He kissed your forehead. “such a good girl.”

“Why were they in my closet?” You laid in his arms afterwards. “Because you wouldn't look in there.” He said , you looked at him. “And taking the jewelry box?” He smiled. “I didn't mean to take it , I was just looking at it , then I got tangled up in your stupid shoe rack and I fell , so I tried to quickly return it , but you were faster.” You giggled, shaking your head.

“So I guess since you were the perv in my closet, you were also the perv in the mirror , staring at me?” Jake sat up a bit. “No I never did that , and I'm not a perv.” He pouted, you tapped his cheek. “it's okay you don't have to lie?” You said , but Jake was serious. “Love, I'm serious , it wasn't me in the mirror.” He said , you sat up. “It wasn't?” He shook his head no.

So, then who was it?

TAGLIST. @deobitful @in-somnias-world @darlingz99 @luvitaria @lost-fantasy @lostinneocity @nalenhypen @heeshlove @kirinaa08 @strxwbloody @ryn000 @neosexuals @sakanelli-afc @yizhoutv @capri-cuntz @lilyuwon

©️LUVYENI

#enhypen imagines #enhypen fic #enhypen ff #enhypen smut #kpop x reader #kpop smut #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen hard hours #enhypen x female reader #enhypen x reader #jake sim smut #jake sim x reader #jake sim fanfic #jake sim imagines #sim jaeyun smut #sim jaeyun x reader #sim jaeyun hard hours #sim jake

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wholoveseggs · 5 months ago

Note

Heyy, you should make an Elijah fic where it’s set where he has his middle part and he falls in love with Elena’s best friend as the reader? With fluff and smut please!!! 🤍🤍

Rules {Part One}

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

Part One

As the little sister of the Salvatores, trouble always finds you. Whether it's from a vampire, werewolf or an original, you are always at the center of it. When the mysterious villain Elijah comes to Mystic Falls, everyone is trying to stop him from hurting Elena. But you? You might be falling in love...

♡♡ Thanks for the request beautiful anon! Middle part Elijah will forever have me in a chokehold && it's about time I write a little bit about the Salvatore brothers...♡♡

2k words - Warnings: this one is just mainly smut, foreplay, secret affair, enemies to lovers, Elijah being the sexiest middle-part menace he can be, reader is a lot like her brother Damon... will this turn into a romeo and juilet tragic romance ? maybee

{Part Two} {Part Three}{Part Four}{Part Five}

"Rules? I don't recall such things..." You giggled softly, kicking your feet a little, a wide smile on your face.

Laying on your stomach in front of the fireplace at the boarding house, you chatted on the phone with Elijah. You ran your fingers through the soft rug underneath you, biting your lip and waiting for a response from him.

"Hmm, perhaps you just have a very poor memory then," Elijah murmured, you could hear the smile in his voice. It had you grinning like an idiot, and you had to roll onto your back and stare up at the ceiling just to calm yourself down. You felt giddy, excited, and so many other emotions that you thought were long dormant in your old age.

"Perhaps..." You murmured, letting out a happy sigh and smiling at the ceiling.

"Let me refresh your memory," Elijah whispered into the phone, his tone calm and deep, as he sat back in the large leather chair in his office. "Rule one, when we are together, it will just be us,"

"And it will be," You assured him, closing your eyes, imagining his voice directly in your ear. "Everyone has gone away for the night,"

"I don't see why we don't just rent a room," He chuckled softly.

"Because," you murmured, feeling shyer by the second. "I want you to see my room, I have some books and art to share with you, there's this painting I hung up the other day that you would love..."

Elijah smiled, looking down and picking at a piece of lint on his pants, unable to deny how much he liked that thought. "I would love to see all the details of what makes you happy,"

You blushed, sitting up on your thighs, the heat of the fireplace warming your back.

"So? Come over?" You asked, hopeful, almost squirming with need.

Elijah knew this was a bad idea, if the Salvatore brothers returned, he would have to deal with their wrath. They were the enemy, but you... You were a weakness, one he couldn't seem to ignore.

"What would I get in return?" He wondered, standing up and moving over to the window.

You grinned, a plan forming. "Anything you want..."

Elijah licked his lips, feeling his heart beat just a bit faster.

"You are dangerous..." He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Give me an hour,"

You giggled happily, rolling onto your stomach and kicking your legs behind you. "I'll be waiting,"

With a small hum of confirmation, Elijah ended the call.

You tossed your phone aside and scurried to your room, deciding what to wear. Usually you weren't shy or nervous to hook-up with someone, but with Elijah it was different.

It had been a few weeks, and you had both agreed, the last time would be the only time. But then one thing led to another, a text here, an invitation there, and now you couldn't deny the pull between the two of you.

After showering and shaving and washing, you stood naked in your closet and looked through the clothes. You finally settled on a simple yet expensive lingerie set that hugged your body and pushed up your breasts. Then you slipped into a simple black dress, deciding to keep it casual, since you were planning on being naked for most of the night.

A knock on the door made you grin, and you rushed to the door, your excitement bubbling to the surface.

Elijah stood on the porch, hands tucked in the pockets of his long trench coat, a small smile on his face.

"Hello, Miss Salvatore," He said softly, stepping inside.

You shut the door behind him, pressing your back against it, taking in the man before you.

"Elijah," You purred, grinning like a cat. "Glad you could join me,"

Elijah hummed softly, his eyes roaming your form. You could see the lust in his eyes, the way his jaw clenched.

"You know, the last time we were alone, I believe we agreed this would not happen again," Elijah reminded, taking a step forward, closing the gap between you.

"Hmm, did we?" You murmured, your hand reaching out and running down the front of his suit, feeling the material. You stopped and looked up at him, a grin on your face.

He leaned down and kissed you, his lips soft and gentle against yours. His hands went to your hips, pulling you flush against him.

You let out a small gasp, a hand going to his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart.

You pulled away, your cheeks a light pink and your breathing heavy. He already had you dizzy, and he had barely done anything.

"How about a tour?" He murmured, a smile on his lips.

"Sure," You nodded, pulling him towards the stairs, a giddy smile on your face.

He followed along, not paying attention to the art and paintings on the walls, instead he was watching you, the way your hips swayed with every step, and the smile on your face as you brought him closer and closer to your bedroom.

As soon as you stepped through the door, Elijah's hands were on your waist, his lips kissing along your neck and shoulders. He kicked the door close, and started pushing you further into the room.

You stumbled a little, giggling and holding onto his arm, letting him push you towards the bed. You spun around and faced him, and he leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a passionate kiss. You ran your hands up his chest and to his tie, unknotting it and throwing it on the ground. You worked on his jacket next, sliding it off his shoulders and down his arms, leaving him in his white shirt.

"Mm, you're rushing," Elijah teased, nipping at your bottom lip, his hands gripping your hips tightly.

"No, no, you're just too slow," You shot back, ripping open his shirt, the buttons flying across the room.

Elijah looked down at his torn shirt, and then up at you, his lips curled into a smirk. "Careful,"

"Or what?" You teased, running your fingers through his hair, a playful glint in your eyes.

Elijah pushed you backwards, and you fell onto the bed, letting out a laugh as he crawled up your body, his mouth attaching to your neck, sucking and biting, making you moan.

"Greedy little vampire, aren't you?" He murmured against your skin, his hands running up your thighs, slowly pushing your dress up.

"Hmm, for you," You purred, tugging at his belt, getting frustrated when you couldn't get it undone.

Elijah chuckled, sitting up and working his belt free, a cocky smirk on his lips. You rolled your eyes, and wiggled your way out of your dress, tossing it onto the ground, leaving you in nothing but the black lace lingerie.

"My, my," Elijah said slowly, his eyes drinking in the sight before him. "You look stunning,"

You bit your lip, a small smile on your face as he climbed back on top of you, his hands running up your sides.

"This was an excellent choice," He murmured, running his fingers over the lace. "Maybe I should rip it off, make it match my shirt,"

"Don't you dare," You warned, wrapping your arms around his neck, bringing his mouth to yours.

Your hand rested against his stomach, and you let it wander up his chest. You could feel his strength as he held himself over you, the muscles of his arms flexing, his chest rising and falling.

His hair fell into his face, framing his cheekbones, his intense gaze fixed on you. You blushed and tucked his hair behind his ear, running your finger along his sharp jaw.

"You're so handsome," You breathed, the words escaping your lips before you could stop them.

Elijah chuckled, his breath hot against your skin.

"And you're breathtaking," He murmured, before ripping off your lingerie, leaving you completely bare beneath him.

"I told you not to do that," You gasped, though you weren't really angry, your blood was already rushing south.

He grinned, his fingers trailing up your leg, teasing your core. You spread your legs wider, and he eased a finger inside you, chuckling as your annoyed expression melted into pleasure. He watched you like this, lips parted, panting softly. Then he added second finger, then a third, until he was fucking you with three fingers, the palm of his hand brushing against your clit.

"Elijah," You moaned, tugging him down, kissing him roughly.

Elijah smirked against your lips, and curled his fingers, finding that sweet spot that had you seeing stars.

"Fuck," You moaned, arching off the bed, your eyes screwed shut.

"That's it," He encouraged, his eyes dark with lust as he watched you, his fingers picking up speed, curling and twisting inside you.

"I can't..." You whined, squirming and grabbing his wrist.

"But you can," He mumbled, kissing you deeply. You moaned into the kiss as he moved his hand faster. The tension was so delicious and intoxicating, but before you could reach your release, Elijah was pulling his hand back.

You were so lost in pleasure you didn't hear the sound of the front door opening, or the noise of Stefan and Damon entering the house.

But Elijah did. He froze, his ears trained on the footsteps of the Salvatore brothers. He cursed under his breath, and turned to look down at you, a smirk playing on his lips.

You frowned at the lack of contact, and pouted, looking up at him, confused. You opened your mouth to speak but he cut you off with a kiss.

Then you heard them.

In a flash Elijah was gone, all that was left of his touch was your scattered breathing and lust filled eyes.

You heard the sound of your brother's footsteps coming up the stairs and pulled a blanket over yourself. A moment later Damon and Stefan walked in the doorway.

"What do you want?" You muttered, looking grumpy, and trying to sound like you were angry at being interrupted from a good sleep.

"Just checking in," Stefan smiled, before noticing how disheveled your hair was, the blush in your cheeks, and the fact that you were wrapped in a blanket and nothing else.

"Have you been here all night?" Damon asked, looking concerned.

"Yes," You snapped, sitting up and pulling the blankets tighter around you. "I was tired and fell asleep reading,"

Stefan and Damon shared a look, neither looked like they were buying your story.

"We'll let you rest," Stefan nodded, heading for the door, giving you a suspicious look.

"Yeah, go back to sleep, we'll be downstairs," Damon murmured, shooting you a knowing look, before following his brother out the door, shutting it behind him.

Once they were gone, you collapsed back against the pillows, letting out a breath.

You could still feel Elijah's lips on yours, still smell his cologne, still taste him on your tongue. You closed your eyes, a smile spreading across your face.

It was in that moment, that you knew you were absolutely, undeniably, hopelessly, in love with Elijah.

And, without a doubt, completely and utterly fucked.

{Part Two} {Part Three}{Part Four}{Part Five}

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lure-of-writing · 8 months ago

Text

Little sister: Knock before you enter

Summary: Maybe Rhys should knock before he enters

Word count: 1.6k

Rhysand had many titles and jobs he was required to upkeep and fulfill. The most daunting title of all; your brother. And as your older brother it was his job to keep you happy and safe but how is he supposed to do that while being high lord, tending to his court, being a new father and a good mate. It was safe to say that he had been falling behind in that area of his life and by no means were you upset with him. Truthfully if Rhysand was willing to admit it to himself you were probably happy to not have him breathing down your neck every two seconds but as your older brother he couldn’t let his lack of time keep him from checking in on you.

Flying to the house of wind he greets Cassian and Nesta in the kitchen having breakfast after what he could only assume was a long training session. Of one kind or another. “Good morning, have you seen my sister by chance?” He stopped to grab a piece of fruit that sat in the basket on the counter. Nesta shook her head in a no motion while bringing her cup to her lips to take a sip. “She wasn’t at training this morning.” his general responded. It wasn’t unusual for you to skip training every now and then but since befriending Cassian's mate you made it more of a point to be consistent in your routine. Something most definitely had to be off. The high lord nodded at his family members and silently made his way to your bedroom and once your door handle was within reach he pushed the door open without any thought.

The second his eyes took in the scene before him, he really wished he would have knocked. At least to give Azriel the chance to winnow away before he caught the two of you in a compromising position. “Well good morning to you too.” Your light laughter felt like a slap in the face and your brother directed his gaze to the ceiling. Azriel said nothing as he continued tightening the lace of your corset as if this was another normal day for the three of you. It in fact was not another normal day for the three of you.

In the middle of the room stood you and Azriel. Your back facing him while he gently pulls the strings of the fabric together in hopes of tightening the fabric to be flush with your body. Neither you nor Azriel seemed fazed by this arraignment. Rhysand made a mental note to ask his shadowsinger about that later. Right now he was trying to find a reason as to why you felt comfortable wearing nothing but this corset top and underwear in front of the man he considered a brother. He would also have to ask about that later.

Coughing Rhys found the bravery in himself to look at you again for a mere seconds before shifting his gaze to literally anything else in your room. “Azriel, why are you helping my sister get dressed?” Before his friend could answer you jumped in to answer for him “Because I can’t tie a corset by myself, obviously” for a few seconds you watched while your brother tried to find the right words but by the time he had found them you were already strutting across the room and into the closet to grab the skirt that matches the outfit. Putting it on before him and the spymaster. Effortlessly you pulled it up and around your waist while turning once again to give Azriel access to tie the strings of your skirt together and complete your outfit. “And where exactly are you going where you need an outfit like that?” nothing about your outfit was revealing but it was definitely one of your nicer outfits for sure. Once again your laughter rang out into the room filling it with undeniable warmth. “Fatherhood sure has made you quite forgetful hasn’t it?” Rhys tried to rack his brain for any reason you would need to be dressed up and he couldn’t find any. Maybe fatherhood has made him forgetful. “I’m going to visit the summer court and try to fix our relationship with them and since you are quite forgetful today, here is your reminder that Az is coming with me.” Silently the two male lock eye contact and Rhys raises a brow in questioning. Az titled his head slightly in a questioning manner. “You really want your sister going to another court alone?”

Sighing a hefty sigh which Rhys was sure would be the first of many today he shook his head. “Of course I don’t want her to go alone. I just don’t recall telling you to go with her.” Confused, Azriel asked “Who else would go then?” And honestly Rhysand had no idea.

After one week which felt like forever knowing you were alone with his shadowsinger the two of you had finally returned. It wasn’t like he didn’t trust the two of you but he couldn’t help but remember you curled up a little too comfortably in the spymaster's lap during the family dinner and now he walks into your room and there is Azriel helping you get dressed while you're basically naked. Something about that made his stomach queasy.

After you had debriefed with your brother about your week, your very exciting week at that, you had made your grand exit to your room to wash away the day of traveling you had endured while Azriel gave him his report of your experience. After explaining everything the two males once again found themselves in the same situation as a week ago. Silently observing each other waiting for someone to make the first move. “Would you like to explain why you were in my sister's room helping her get dressed last week?” Az said nothing for a minute while staring at his high lord. “Like you said I was helping her get dressed.” Rhysand couldn’t help the scoff that slipped from his lips in disbelief. “Az I’m not stupid. I know something is going on between the two of you just please be honest and tell me. First she sits in your lap which sure isn’t unusual for her but then when I go to get her up from you, you don’t let me. Then at the court of nightmares, which don’t get me wrong I am eternally grateful that you protected her but then she kisses you like her life depended on it and leads you off to gods know where and now I find you in her room quote unquote helping her get dressed while she's basically half naked. I would be lying if I said this didn’t make me mad but I really just want you to be truthful with me.”

Azriel knew just how bad it seemed to anyone but the two of you but listening to Rhys list off all the stuff he had seen you two do, did seem a little suspicious. But truthfully he could say that nothing was going on between the two of you. Sure you liked to push the boundaries of friends to lovers quite often but it was always with Azriels concent and permission and nothing more ever happened then what Rhys had witnessed. Azriel respected Rhysand in more ways than one and part of that meant never crossing the in your relationship into something more as much as Azriel really wished he could. Some part of Azriel knew that you were meant for him but he knew his high lords stance on either him or Cassian dating his little sister. And it was never an option because Rhysand would never allow it to be one.

“Rhys, I respect you which means I also respect you that don’t want me to date your little sister. I would never do anything to cross that line and I honestly try not to but you know you sister. She likes to get under your skin and since Cassian can’t help her achieve that goal anymore she comes to me. If it truly bothers you that much I will talk to her and put it to a stop. As for last week, after training I was the first one back down into the house and she simply asked for my help. At first I denied but once she brought the corset out to show me how complicated it was I agreed to help her, nothing more was going on I promise.”

After a long and much needed talk with Azriel, Rhysand had finally made it back to his bedroom and his wonderful mate. Once the couple had caught each other up on their day things started to escalate and before he knew it he was starting to undress Feyre. Suddenly the bedroom door slammed open and there you were standing in the entrance of his room staring at him expectantly. After a very lengthy pause of the three of you glancing at and forth at each other you finally speak. “Rhys what are you doing? Feyre is a grown woman she can undress herself. She doesn’t need your help.” with an exhausted sigh you watch as your brother rubs his weary face. He knew exactly what this was about. “Maybe next time you'll knock before entering.” Feyre watched as you turned around and left as if you had not just barged into their room. Without saying anything to her mate she raises an eyebrow in question as if to say “What was that about?” Sighing once more Rhysand just shakes his head before face planting into their bed. Exiting his house you make your way to where Azriel was waiting to fly the two of you back to the house of wind “Maybe next time he’ll actually knock.” The gentle laugh of the shadowsinger caressed your heart as he scooped you into his arms and took off to the sky. That was not before pressing a gentle kiss to your temple.

Taglist: @kemillyfreitas @gorlillaglue25 @willowpains

#acotar imagine #acotar x reader #acotar x you #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #azriel fanfic #azriel imagine #azriel one shot #azriel angst #azriel shadowsinger

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rahuratna · 2 months ago

Text

Synopsis: Post-Shibuya Nanami x Classical Dancer Desi Reader

In the aftermath of Shibuya, an injured Nanami struggles to balance his eroding self-worth with his desire to conduct his duty as a sorcerer. He finds healing in the fragrant garden of your dance.

Genres: Romance, angst, suspense.

Content warnings: depictions of low self-esteem, dealing with trauma, erotic and sexual content.

Thanks to @tsukimefuku for reading and editing this piece that is so precious to me. 🧡💜

Please refer to the glossary for the meaning of certain terms used. 🧡

(I)

Pushpanjali: an offering

"Tha ka dhi mi, tha ka dhi mi, tha ka ... "

It is a chant that spans centuries, leaping from the high-ceilinged, airy chambers of a land and time long past, to here, and now. It winds between the gently rippling silk scarves that adorn the walls, a drumbeat like the slow collapse of ancient kingdoms under the steady tramp of cavalry.

Time seems to pass at a stagnant pace in here, in this place where your domain has taken root and unfurled, a red, red bloom in the heart and hand of a painted god.

Feet slide and strike against the worn wooden floor, precise and weighted, as you perform the basic stance before your pupils, watching faces tight with the concentration of the inexperienced.

"Tha ka dhi mi, tha ka dhi mi ... "

Your voice guides them, as does your form, an arm straightening here and a pair of knees bending further as they watch you. The twist of your lower back, the stretch of your arms in a line to some point behind you, the rejoining of your fingers in katakamukha, the arch kept between chin and the line of your shoulder, all shifting in a single fluid movement that requires no thought.

Incense snakes through the air, close to the glass double doors, the heady scent of sandalwood gathering in tendrils there, where the gentle push of the breeze cannot dissipate it. It is through this fine mist that you see him, for the first time, standing just outside the doors in the narrow passageway.

Shoko had informed you of his arrival, of course. She had warned you about his physical condition, about the nature of his grievous injuries. It wouldn't be the first time she'd made use of your services to assist in the rehabilitation of wounded sorcerers.

Your eyes meet his, through the shifting coils of fragrant smoke from the brazier, and you see, in a single, fractured moment, why he is here. He has been sent here for a form of healing, but his gaze is not soft and receptive. It is shuttered, its passion muted and closeted away, defences piled so high they might as well be weapons. He scans the dance hall with the kind of predatory clarity that long, long years of being a sorcerer would bring.

You excuse yourself and step outside, the open door allowing the scent of the incense and the soft evening air to filter out into the hallway. Behind you, the silk scarves flutter gently in the draught.

He is a tall man, poised and elegant. He wears the jacket and comfortable, warm trousers in a way that speaks of someone more accustomed to formal wear. As soon as you enter the hall, he bows with deep formality, and the mellow resonance of his voice seeps into the narrow space like honey spilled across the floorboards.

"Nanami Kento. I was referred here by - "

"Shoko. Yes. I've been expecting you."

You return his bow and introduction, aware of his scrutiny travelling the length of your spine. You can sense that he is picking you apart in his mind, fitting together the components to try to build a coherent whole.

Close-up, the severity of his burns are evident. A layer of darkened scar tissue covers the left side of his face and scalp, running down his neck and further, where your eyes cannot follow. The left eye, according to Shoko, had been unrecoverable, now shielded with a soft, surgical patch. The damage to his arm had been even worse, as it seemed he'd used it to shield himself. A fuzzy growth of pale hair had started along the scorched skin of his scalp, a sign that even now, his body was knitting itself slowly back together.

Your eyes travel over his sharp-edged countenance, and he stares back, unphased. You make a rapid mental list, a trickle of first impressions that will later build to a torrent.

Stength, and plenty of it. A deathly, well-controlled calm that permeates his living flesh, skin over smooth stone. The martial bearing and powerful arms and shoulders, even scorched as they are, speak of the force he must have presented on the battlefield.

He assesses you in return, and you tilt your head as the dim sunlight filtering into the corridor catches his eye, turning the honeyed brown of their depths to a moss-flecked river bed, steady and cool.

Beautiful.

That is your first impression of him.

(II)

Alarippu: the flowering

Recovery.

Kento has heard a dozen variations of that word by now, couched in the language of choice.

The road to recovery.

Recovering your mobility.

Getting your old self back.

A return to routine.

He is aware, by now, that any such full repair of the damage that has been done to him is a castle in the air, one he cannot summon the lightness of spirit to ascend to. Positivity had never really been his hallmark. Now, even less so.

The world had shifted around him while he was asleep, you see. Comrades had fallen. The new generation had triumphed. The very fabric of Jujutsu society had been rewoven, the dawning of a new age embroidered for all to see across the hard-won horizon.

The sacrifices he'd made were but a few of many. They'd hardly mattered, in the larger scheme of things. Many had given their lives. What had he offered up?

The ability to walk without aid, for one. Also, most of the skin on the left side of his body. Basic movements, things that had once been second nature to him, were now carefully calculated because of the pain.

The lunge of an arm through a coat sleeve when he was in a rush. The brisk pace he'd maintained to keep his body temperature up in cold weather. The sensation of a soft cashmere scarf against his cheek, or the brush of an aerated cotton shirt against his skin in summer. The cascade of hot water on tired muscles, after a long afternoon swinging diligently at cursed spirits. All muted, fuzzy, lost.

And what else?

Kento had never been soft with himself. People often thought that sentiment never clouded his cool judgment, allowing him to make objective and sensible decisions. While that was largely true, it flew wide of the mark in terms of what really pushed him, what gave him direction. It was ironic, as he'd speculated later, that his mortal enemy had been the one to identify what many of his comrades hadn't.

Mahito, in that light, youthful, jubilant voice, declaring how he'd seen Kento's soul quivering. And he was not wrong.

Kento was a man driven by a quiet, desolate desperation, a desire to fill an empty space that yawned endlessly within his soul, a black hole with an insatiable appetite. Emotion was as vital to his function as breathing. It drove him out of bed everyday, into the office, into the boardroom, into the bakery, back to jujutsu tech, into rain, snow, sun and wind, into the face of his darkest imaginings.

He watches traffic from the window of his room at the private clinic, pedestrians going about their lives, people chatting on precariously held phones, children dancing through a world of make-belief, people on lunch break. People with purpose, a certainty of their place in the world. What could he offer, in this world of colour, sound, movement and shadow, this world that threatened to leave him behind?

Kento had paid the price, and would do it again, and again, and again, in every known reality, if it meant maintaining the stability he saw outside his window.

(But if that was the case, why was the darkness inside him more ravenous than ever?)

********

Shoko comes to see him most frequently, even with her workload at the Tech. She can't really help it. Nanami is her last remaining bridge to the past, as selfish as that makes her seem. She doesn't care much, not anymore. She'll take what she can get.

A tenuous bridge, is Nanami.

Shoko is accustomed to seeing the damage that can be done to a body by the uncontrolled hatred of a curse, or the more conscious destruction of a cursed technique. She has seen it all, performed the most grotesque procedures on the corpses of those she loved. But something about seeing Nanami's injuries, seeing him like this, is more jarring than any of those horrors.

Her technique has allowed his skin to heal, the raw flesh, exposed tendon and muscle beneath now covered by the new epidermal growth she has stimulated. The chances of oedema and infection are also minimal, considering her precautions. All that was left now was his slow physical conditioning and therapy.

(If only that were all.)

If Itadori, Kugisaki, Fushiguro and Ijichi had their way, Nanami would never know a moment of solitude. They wanted constant updates on his condition, to bring him his favourite foods, to talk, weep, mourn and rejoice with him. She allowed them to see him, every other day, but drew a firm line, citing his recovery as priority. She didn't have the heart to tell them that every gentle glance, every proud smile, every glimpse of the old Nanami they received came at a great cost.

Standing in the doorway of his room now, she could see it. Or rather, the lack of it. That vitality, that pain from which he drew his vigour, the firm lines of his back and shoulder that reminded her of an implacable bulwark against the raging of the cursed world, all absent. When he didn't think anyone was looking, that is.

Stepping into the room, she offers a slight nod as the door slides shut behind her. The change is immediate. He straightens, the corners of his eyes regaining their sharp edge, the set of his mouth firm and familiar.

"Shoko."

"Nanami. Ready to talk about physical therapy?"

She gets straight into it, knowing that he wouldn't want it any other way.

"I'd like that very much. When can I begin?"

His words are still slightly muffled, the burnt edge of his lips stiff with a new layer of scar tissue.

Nanami had never been a vain man. He had always been in possession of striking features, and had taken care of his appearance, but in a way that was more attuned to practicality; if he was neat, well-presented and unremarkable, Nanami considered this a success.

It was why he had been able to look in a mirror with such equanimity for the first time after his treatment. All she had seen was a slight tightening at the corners of his mouth, a slow nod, a brief look of exhaustion and resignation as to this new set of scars.

The loss of his left eye and the damage to the arm on the same side had been the worst of it. There, she'd done everything in her power to restore the lost tissue, but Nanami would never regain his eye, or the full range of motion with that limb. There was, however, the soft growth of new hair on his scalp, a promising sign that elsewhere, her rejuvenation of the underlying tissue layers had somewhat succeeded.

Shoko doesn't reply to his query just yet. She approaches the bed, and he sits up, unlacing the front of his hospital gown, accustomed to the routine by now. She place her palms a few inches from his skin, closing her eyes as she maps him out, bone, muscle, blood and water, the minute synapses where impulses leap in a frantic race, the steady beat of his heart.

Inhaling deeply, she steps away.

"The sooner you begin, the better. I know you've been walking a lot. That alone won't help in the long term."

There is a hint of reproach in her voice. Nanami, displaying his singularly stubborn streak, had been discovered out of bed on more than one occasion, standing by the windows, staring into space in a way that made her worried.

He gives a wry, crooked smile.

"What do you recommend?"

Shoko places the file she'd carried along carefully on his lap.

"There's a family with a specific cursed technique I've corresponded with before. Sent some of my patients to them. They specialize in therapeutics."

Nanami is watching her closely, taking note of the way she focuses on the view out the window.

"And you're sending me to them?"

"They aren't local. The main clan is located in India. Scattered at various locations in the Tamil Nadu province. One of their members moved here, some years back, to conduct research on the compatibility of their techniques with ours. It wasn't a success, for various reasons, but he stayed, with his family."

"So it's a hereditary technique?"

"In a way. It manifests with varying degrees of efficacy. I'd simply like ... for you to meet with their representative."

She returns his gaze, and when she speaks again, he understands why she has been so hesitant.

"It's not just physical therapy, Nanami. We can achieve that pretty well here. Their methods go ... deeper than that. I can mend physical wounds. They might be able to help you heal in other ways."

He doesn't agree to it immediately, looking through the list of exercises that came after the therapy recommendation letter. One eyebrow lifts slightly in a comfortingly familiar query.

"You want me to do yoga too?"

"Gojo's idea. He added it to the list before he - "

She stops abruptly, one hand finding purchase on Nanami's ankle, squeezing lightly on it where it rests beside her, under the blankets.

"Anyway. He said he wanted to make video edits of you with your ass in the air. Said it would be good to bring you down to earth a little."

Her chuckle doesn't sound hollow any longer. She can talk about her friend (yes, he was that too) without that tell-tale catch of agony in her chest. Nanami sighs before opening up the file, his good hand leafing through the printed pages.

"I suppose ... I could humour him. This once."

(III)

Shabdam: The Word

In a month's time, with Shoko's regular treatment, Nanami is in good enough condition to leave the clinic. He still makes use of a walking stick, especially for longer distances and steeper flights of stairs. Ijichi makes sure he is permanently on call, for the occasions when Nanami simply needs to get out of the sterile halls of the clinic, the rapid intake of the world outside enough to sustain him.

Nanami has, for the most part, been following Shoko's regimen religiously, adding his own variations without her knowledge. In this way, his strength and endurance steadily build up to a point where he is ready to be discharged (with daily check-ins, of course).

Nanami keeps the file that Shoko had handed over, but every time he spies it out of the corner of his eye, he occupies himself with something else, procrastinating in a way that is wholly unlike him. Eventually, his own conscience prevents him from delaying further. He is entirely skeptical that anyone can truly help him. He has felt that way since Haibara died, but even he can admit that there's no harm in trying.

He finds the address given with little issue, and Ijichi is more than willing to take him there. The place is nondescript, no signage giving any indication of the activities that take place there. There is an wood-panelled foyer, a colonial style spiral staircase leading to the upper floors. The stairs themselves have been worn smooth by many generations of feet.

Nanami is half an hour early, anticipating some kind of registration process, or introductions, as there had been in martial arts dojos he had frequented. There is nothing of the kind. He finds himself in a corridor, flanked by two pairs of glass double doors. In one of the rooms, a wide open space with a wooden floor and a view over the city, he sees some kind of class in session.

Approaching slowly, he hears it. The rhythmic thump and shuffle of feet, the feminine voice that called out a pattern that he's never heard before, but seems familiar all the same. The glass doors give him a clear view of the room, of the five occupants (a small class, then) who were engaged in some kind of dance practice, and the instructor, up front.

He pauses, body coming to a complete and rare standstill. He watches as she moves through a repetitive step, in time with the beat she calls out, firm, musical, lilting. The grace of movement, the low centre of gravity, the rigidity of the lower body in contrast with the flow of the upper, arrests his vision.

The disciplined line of her throat turns, and she is facing the door, facing him, hands brought together in a signature pose. Long lashed eyes, observant, catching and holding his glance. For a moment, he feels the desire to back away from the door, to hurry out into the street, a return to his comfortable routine. He stands his ground, as always.

He watches as she approaches the door.

********

Once your introductions have been dispensed with, you gesture to Nanami to follow you into the smaller room you use for individual therapy. His gaze lingers on the class that continues, even in your absence.

The same silk scarves ripple gently along the walls of the room next door, orange, grey, red and green. The rug is old, but rich and plush. There are two chairs, comfortable and supportive, their orange upholstery lined with faded gold thread, and an urn on a stand nearby, on the boil in readiness to prepare chai.

You pour him a cup now, the fragrant liquid a rich, caramel brown in the small glass, eyeing his expression through the steam.

There. Immediate interest. A man with a varied palate, considering the way he accepts the tea with polite deference, but takes an appreciative sniff before sipping deeply. The way his shoulders relax slightly afterwards has the corner of your mouth tipping up.

"So, Nanami. Shoko told me that you're here for our specific line of therapeutics."

He puts the cup down with a decisive motion.

"Yes. She told me a little about the effects of your technique."

"Did she explain what exactly it involves?"

He pauses, gaze traveling to the students in the dance hall next door who were now stretching and rounding up their practice.

"I assume it has ... something to do with that?"

You set your own cup down and clap your palms together.

"Well observed. It has everything to do with dance. Bharatanatyam, to be exact."

He raises an eyebrow, and you explain obligingly.

"Where I'm from, Bharatanatyam is one of many classic dance forms. The practice itself goes back centuries. My family's technique is rooted in the principles of the dance itself."

Nanami cleared his throat.

"I'm afraid ... I'm not a good dancer."

Your laughter comes easily.

"That's what they all say, in the beginning. But don't worry. You won't have to do anything strenuous, nor am I going to make you prance around in a dhoti."

"You have my thanks, I suppose."

"We will do plenty of physical conditioning, but you will also be my audience. My technique requires that you are ... receptive and open to answering the things that I ask."

Here, the easy flow of conversation stills a little, and the tea swirls gently through the motion of his dexterous fingers. He does reply, eventually, softer than before.

"I chose to come here. I think that speaks for itself. I will accept whatever your technique can do for me."

The non-committal nature of his reply does not escape you. You nod, understanding that this is the best you'll get from him, for now.

"Hmm. I think it's best that I demonstrate. That always works better than sitting here and explaining."

You stand and gesture for him to do the same, observing his movements carefully.

There. The burned side of his body has slower movements, as expected. He still displays agility and grace, despite the stiffness and pain he must feel. You approach and stand directly in front of him.

"Nanami, I'm going to lay my hand here, on your abdomen. Please tell me if this is fine."

He nods, but his body is now taut, anticipatory. This close, you can smell the surgical cleaning fluid that he must still use when changing dressings, the scent of the clinic still clinging to his clothes and hair. Beneath it, something warm, vital, pleasant. The scent of him. His hair falls over one brow, unhindered, and he impatiently pushes it back. Judging from the length, he must like it shorter than it currently is.

"Please try to relax."

Your hand presses against the firm planes of his stomach, centering around his navel. He is shockingly solid, vitality surging under your fingers. And something else. You frown, but keep your hand in place. After a few minutes, your fingers begin to move. You start to tap out a gentle rhythm against his skin, tentative, repetitive.

You keep this up for a while, eyes shut tightly, focused. When you eventually look up at him, he is watching you with close attention. You know what he sees, that he is following the currents of cursed energy that swarm around your body, fluttering and pulsing in accordance to the pattern you've been tapping out.

This part is crucial. The manner with which you approach this will determine his response, and you can feel his resistance to an invasion of this kind, how he could shut himself off from you, the giant ribcage of self-preservation sealing to the sternum, forever shielding his heart.

You step back and take your seat again, and he pauses before doing the same. He leans forward, elbows on knees, watchful. This man doesn't miss a thing.

"Your diagnosis?"

He had a lot of cheek too.

"There is no diagnosis. Not in the sense you're thinking."

"So, what was the purpose of ... that?"

"It allows me to plan my dance. For next time."

"Your dance?"

You reach for your glass, take a quick sip of the cooling liquid.

"In plain terms, my technique is called Arangetram. It's named after the dance recital performed by a bharatanatyam student after many years of perfection of their art. The recital takes place in stages, and each stage reveals more of their dedication, their skill and their unique talent."

Your palms, placed together, draw apart and Nanami's gaze falls between them.

"It's an unfolding. A gradual one. My technique enables me to read deeper into the patterns of your own energy, gently peeling apart each layer in stages, until we reach the crux of the issue. The wound to your Atman. Your true, and eternal self. With my guidance, and your cooperation, we can possibly help heal that."

As you speak, Nanami's gaze falls to his glass, the bitter dregs collecting at the base. He stands abruptly, and turns away from you, facing the window. You remain still, waiting.

When he speaks, there is something in his voice that makes you wince slightly. So much heaviness. So much despair. The weight of it must be crushing.

"That sounds ... familiar. Before I was saved by another young sorcerer, someone I helped mentor, I ran into a curse that could have ended my life for good. I'd met him before, you see, but he escaped me at that time. His technique ... wounds the soul. Our perception of ourselves."

You take in a sharp breath. What Nanami was describing was a form of cursed technique in direct opposition to your own. Nanami continues, eyes fixed on the steady stream of cars that pass by below.

"Are you telling me that you can heal that kind of damage completely?"

"No."

"Why?"

"Because damage to the soul requires accurate perception, but a callous disregard for any and all forms of life. Destruction is part of universal balance, but to actively go about it, without any consideration for what you will create, is ... inhuman."

You stand, wanting to meet his eyes when he turns to face you again.

"Healing the soul is nothing like this. Nor can it be done in the same way for every person. But Nanami, here's the question I want to ask most right now. Why, even now, are you thinking about all the victims of this curse? Why, since you've heard the nature of my technique, have you never once thought about how it could actually help you?"

This demand is what it takes for him to finally tear his gaze away from that window, mouth opening in protest, but your silencing finger is up. You're not touching his lips, not quite, but close. His warm breath ghosts over your finger.

"Dont answer that question now. Answer it tomorrow, after you watch me dance."

(IV)

Jathiswaram: Purity of dance

He is early the next day, and you can sense that this will be a pattern. A seasoned sorcerer, through and through, gaining intel on the lie of the land. He is dressed with casual elegance once again, this time in a soft sweater and old jeans.

You guide him through a series of stretches and stances, eyes following his movements. As hard as Nanami is to read, you can tell, from the softening of the lines at the corners of his eyes that these exercises give him relief.

He is also unlike any other pupil you've ever encountered. There is something about having that keen gaze trace every line your body forms with such close attentiveness, the lithe mimicking of each pose, the easing of the stiff line of his mouth when he gets something right, and is aware of it.

It is like practicing yoga alongside a panther, one that won't harm you, but with every stray connection of the eyes, you are aware of just what it is physically capable of. It is both thrilling and strange; new.

When the first short session is over, and he seems slightly more at ease, you serve him tea once again.

"Take a few minutes. Relax. You'll wait in here until I call you into the hall next door."

"What would you have me do?"

"There will be a cushion on the floor. You're going to sit cross legged, as comfortable as you can get. Arms relaxed, hands resting on your knees. Then, you watch."

"A performance of some kind?"

"Yes. To be more specific, you're going to be inside my domain."

This was the one detail he seemed most hesitant about. You wait, in silence, giving him a chance to defer, to push back, to delay the inevitable. He doesn't do any such thing. You're beginning to understand just what kind of courage this man possesses. It takes a different kind of bravery, you're well aware, to face your own demons rather than the gnashing beasts of the cursed world.

*****

Kento does his best to let the soothing spiced heat of the tea perform its dutiful relaxation of his limbs. He sits, legs spread slightly, staring at the wall. The door to the small side room effectively cuts off any sound from the dance floor beyond. He does not know what to expect and he doesn't like it.

Finally, a soft chime sounds. His signal. Setting the glass of tea aside, he stands and makes his way into the corridor, then into the room beyond. He pauses, taking in the transformation.

The view of the city outside has been completely blocked by rich, embroidered curtains, a screen propped up all along one end of the room. Behind it, he hears soft voices speak in another language, rapid and lyrical. The experimental pat of drums and the musical clink of small cymbals indicates that a band of some kind has set up back there, in readiness with their instruments.

Following the instructions he'd received earlier, Kento pads quietly to the centre of the room, where the large, solitary cushion sits, and lowers himself onto it. It is surprisingly comfortable. When everything seems to be in position, a hush falls over the room.

The first hint of her approach is the chime of the anklets she wears, many layered, the bronze shimmer of the individual bells catching the buttery light. She wears a sari, but something about it seems tailored differently from those he'd seen before. The waist has been cinched in with a belt, the pleats of the skirt fanning out around the knees. Beneath, she wears a pair of loose-fitting pants, the shimmering material caught in at the ankles by the bells he heard earlier.

Her hair has been fixed back in a long braid, flowers framing the outline of her head. Dark kohl lines her eyes, and her hands and feet are decorated with a red stain that stands out against the ocean-coloured silk of the sari.

She approaches and crouches nimbly before him, that long-lashed gaze travelling over his form, attentive. Her voice is low pitched, as always, but now there is a new undercurrent to it. He can feel the latent energy within her, as if she has been calling to it, like some long- submerged civilization breaching the surface of the sea.

"Nanami. I'm about to start. In order for me to do so, I need you to picture something in your mind's eye for me."

He nods, slowly.

"I'm going to touch your navel the same way I did yesterday. When I do, don't fight the image your mind throws up. It is natural. It may be a good memory, or an upsetting one. Either way, just let it be. Do you understand?"

"I do."

The pressure of her hand is barely tangible through the material of his sweater, but her cursed energy slides against him with a force he can push back against. He doesn't. Even as it goes against every preservatory instinct he has, he lets her in, watches the slow dawn of soft surprise in her eyes. She has kind eyes, he is only just realising.

And then an image flashes across his mind, just as she warned. Another era of lost kindness, a boy who looked at him with eternal patience, good humour and warmth. In the instant that he sees that face, laughing, animated, lips peeled back from wide, white teeth in that trademark grin, the world shifts. The face is no longer filled with life and humour. It is cold. Pale. Lips purplish and creased, dried blood flaking from the corners.

He wants to pull away, to stop, but he cannot. This is important. This has to be done.

Her hand comes down on his abdomen, harder. Then again. She is finding a rhythm in his own cursed energy, hand mapping out the pulse, scenting his weakness, his pain, following it. Again. And again. And again. The steady pattern builds. So does her cursed energy. It fills the room, filtering into every space, until Kento feels like he is the inhabitant of a fish tank.

Blue silk fluttering, she steps back suddenly. The scent of the incense is heady, intense. Behind the screen, the unseen musicians have somehow struck up the same tempo she has been playing on his abdomen. Her expression changes, and he straightens, slowly.

The kohl-lined eyes open wide, the whites stark gains the smoky backdrop of her lids. She drops to the same stance he'd seen her adopt in the class she'd taught yesterday, knees slightly bent, thighs holding a rigid line, arms outstretched, hands slightly bent at the ends. Her entire upper torso forms an elegant line, see-sawing gently, before the arms snap back and forth, as if tugged by an elastic band.

Red-painted, flickering like four flames, her hands and feet move with rapid precision, taking her through a fluid series of steps that are timed exactly to the beat of the drums, the beat of his own cursed energy, humming and writhing. Her dark, dark eyes meet his, and he understands, now, that every movement she makes entwines their energy, tangles it further, a cat with a ball of yarn, edging the threads closer to a woven pattern.

Her hands stretch toward him, shaped in what seems to be something symbolic of a flower. They spread, and he follows the reddened unfurling of her fingers, the crash of the cymbals louder, a portent of her ability.

He sees the incorporeal lotus, the shadow of it on the screen behind her, petals rifling past each other like the pages of an endless book, and her hands are dragging something out and away from him, emptying like fragrance into the room.

This is her domain, and he shudders in sudden understanding, as memories he'd long buried, bruised and raw, come fluttering like a cloud of butterflies to the surface of his mind.

The first time he'd met Haibara, the way the bright-eyed boy had handed him a shared ice cream, that hot, hot summer's day. The way he'd followed Kento, ignoring his grumpy demeanour, pressing snacks and home-made creations (less successful) into his hands. The long days of training, the sudden and pleased widening of his eyes when Kento had let slip that he'd been improving. The muted tones of his exuberant voice when he'd spoken of his sister, of the path he'd make sure she'd never choose.

And that, right there, was that focal point of pain, the sore spot that had festered, untreated, deep in the knowledge of his soul. Haibara had known, all along, the dangers of their job. He'd known, full well, how easily his life was spent by those who did not understand the full value of such currency. He knew that his youth was a fool's game, one that may never be completed. And for all of these years, since his death, Kento had chosen to -

The loud clash of cymbals dissipates those thoughts instantly, the energy permeating the room, surrounding them both, snapping back to her still form, controlled and under her command. She is watching him closely, the tight grip he now has on his knees, the sweat beading on his brow.

She takes three steps forward, legs lifting high in the stylized movement of her dance form, and her palms come together as she bows to him. Instantly, the performer is gone, and she is back with him, no longer in command. She pads quickly over to him, kneeling and touching his leg.

"Hold on to those images for a moment. Tell me, who was that boy?"

Kento pauses, swallows thickly.

"Haibara Yu. A boy who studied at the Tech with me. We trained together."

She does not need to ask what has happened to Haibara. She has seen it, through the binding of her dance. She has seen his death. Her next question catches him off guard.

"Why is his spirit so strong inside you? You carry him with you like a briefcase to work everyday. Why is his reflection on every surface you pass? Why does he force you forward, and yet, drag you backwards too?"

Kento is still, the sweat cooling on his temples. His muscles are rigid, cording. Pain flares along his jaw, where he has been clenching it. She raises a hand, palm up.

"Don't answer me now. Take the next few days off, and think about the questions I've asked."

*******

He does consider it, as she asked him to. In fact, it's all he can dwell on. As much as it robs him of sleep, leaving him tossing and turning, blankets rumpled and damp with perspiration, he thinks that this is better than staring into formless space. This torment is preferable to the endless battle played out against the pale, sterile walls of the clinic.

How long has it been since his pain has been cut out of his chest, a fully formed, hard-edged diamond, the corners so sharp they slice through him at every touch? How long has it been since he's turned over that crystalline fragment in his hands, allowed himself to remember, to cherish, to grieve?

He understands why he could not, before this. There were missions to undertake. Work to be done. Curses to be dispatched. An endless cycle of activity to tear his mind away from such things.

And then, there had been the students. He goes over each of their names in his mind like a mantra. Yuuji. Megumi. Nobara. Maki. Panda. Inunaki. Ino. The faces of children, the minds of warriors, the scars of those who had known their worst fears and overcome them. It was his duty to protect and serve, to keep them safe, and yet ...

If he had convinced himself, so many times over, that Haibara had needed an adult like the one he had shaped himself to be, then why wasn't he needed any longer?

(V)

Varnam: The Centerpiece

When you see him again, you can't help the smile that breaks across your face. Nanami is a tricky customer. In spite of his natural strength and charisma, you can tell that he is unaccustomed to relying on others for his emotional well-being.

And yet, here he is, standing in the hallway, expression controlled and muted as always. There is a certain tension and guarded quality to his demeanour that is lacking this time around, however. He has seen the extent of your technique. It cannot harm him any more than he harms himself. This, you are also aware of.

"Nanami. It's good to see you."

He nods, that keen eye of his taking in your expression.

"You were not expecting me to return."

It is not a question. You laugh and gesture to him to follow you into the smaller room beside the dance hall.

"I can't say what I expected. But rest assured ... I'm glad to see you here."

He dips his head in acknowledgement as he follows you through the door. You note that he's had a haircut since the last time you've seen him, the flowing blonde hair slicked back on the right side. His surgical patch has been replaced by a soft black one. His walk seems a little steadier, even if he still has to use the sturdy cane to navigate the stairs.

You pour him tea in silence, waiting for him to initiate the topic that you've asked him to consider. He takes a sip, a soft grunt of satisfaction escaping him, before he sets the glass down with that decisive motion you've come to recognise.

"Last time I was here ... you asked me about Haibara."

"I saw him. In your memories. He must have been important to you."

"I said that we studied together. We were in the same year. There was ... a mission. It was assigned wrongfully, by the higher ups. The difficulty level was ... too great for two fledgling sorcerers. We'd held our own against curses before, but this was different."

"And Haibara ... "

"He was killed. I escaped."

There it was. The words seem to exit him easily enough, because he's probably said them many times before. There is a raw quality to them, though, that cannot be disguised. He has never forgiven himself for Haibara's death. You give him a minute before resuming your questioning.

"My technique showed me that Haibara had a sister. He did not want her to become a sorcerer like you two?"

Here, Nanami's hesitance is tangible.

"No, he didn't. He knew the dangers of our work."

"And yet, in your memories, you clearly see him as someone to be protected."

"He was."

The words emerge sharper than Nanami likes, because he tries to lessen the bite of his tone as he continues.

"I believe that the younger generation of sorcerers should be protected at all costs, whenever necessary. It doesn't matter how much they've seen, how much they've experienced. What matters is that they are not robbed of responsible adult figures in their lives, who can help them cope with what comes later."

"Did anyone help you with coping? With dealing with what happened to Haibara?"

For the first time, Nanami does not meet your gaze. There is a softness to this man, that shows in the gentle, considered way he touches objects, the way his dark lashes shadow his cheeks, the way he is always thinking of someone, anyone other than himself.

"No."

His voice is charged, but quiet.

"And so, you think to play this role for the future generations?"

"I hope to. Yes."

You already know what must be done, as painful as it may be.

"Nanami, is it possible for me to meet with your students?"

******

"Nanamiiiinnnn!"

The boy with soft-hued pink hair is enthusiastic in his greeting, none of it contrived. You can see from the way his eyes light up, the way his whole body gravitates to the sorcerer standing beside you, that Nanami means the world to him. The girl with the eyepatch beside him gives a more staid greeting. There is a certain tough rakishness to her bearing that you've come to recognise as well-earned bravado.

It's Nanami you are more focused on. He introduces you to the students who greet you politely, each giving a small bow.

"How's the progress, Nanamin? You look great!"

The young sorcerer, Yuuji, truly means it. He is taking in Nanami with an air of triumph.

"It's slow, in some ways, but I'm getting there, Itadori."

You note how he still refers to them by their family names, even after everything they've been through together.

"Why don't we have lunch together?" you suggest.

Nobara immediately points at Nanami.

"Ask him. He's knows all the good places, in just about every part of the city."

And so, you find yourselves seated at a small soba place, one you haven't come across before. The food is excellent, and Yuuji and Nobara chat animatedly across the table with their senior as they plough through a selection of dishes.

It is now that you notice all of the things that Nanami doesn't.

The way Yuuji constantly keeps an eye on how much his mentor eats. The way Nobara adjusted the table when they sat down, such that Nanami could be more comfortable. The way they both scoped you out with clear protective instinct, forming their opinions of you.

Yuuji keeps up an encouraging stream of comments, complimenting Nanami on his receptiveness to treatment, on his hair, on the fact that he's been getting out more. He asks Nanami's advice on missions he'll be undertaking solo, and with others.

"So, Ino got his grade one promotion!"

"He told me."

Nanami cannot help the small smile that appears on his face. Yuuji shakes his head.

"Ha. I bet he told you before he told his mom."

Nobara snorts in agreement.

"Did you know he's picked up wearing a suit on missions now?"

"He does?"

Nanami seems surprised by this.

"Sure does. Keeps his hair shorter too. Thought I was teaming up with a Yakuza the last time we went on a mission together."

"Surely not."

"Oh, absolutely! He tried acting all cool, until I told him I'd video him and send it to you, and then he stopped with the persona real fast."

Nanami chuckles. It is a rich, warm, hearty sound, one that flickers over the table like the heat of a fireplace. You see the aching softness in Yuuji's eyes, the way Nobara grins triumphantly at having wrung that sound out of him.

And you understand, fully, like you knew you would.

These are no fledgling sorcerers. Nanami can never again offer them the kind of protection he once had. It is obvious that they value him no less for that. He is a glowing lantern of comfort, of hope to them. If he'd ever desired to play the role of responsible adult to these youngsters, then he'd exceeded every expectation and made himself indispensable, and loved.

If only he could see that.

You catch yourself watching Nanami's smile throughout the meal. It is, at times, contagious, at times shy, at other times a sarcastic tilt. He likes sandwiches, as you learn, and Nobara makes fun of the time one of Yaga's cursed dolls knocked a fresh salmon bagel out of Nanami's hand and he'd snapped and almost destroyed the garden it had escaped into.

It's only when the meal is over, and you are gathering up your purse, that you spy Nobara's eyes on you. The curve of her lips is discreet, and knowing.

*******

During the next few weeks, Nanami's physical condition slowly, but gradually improves. He does not ask when you will ensconce him in your domain again, and you do not offer. You feel that there is some fundamental hurdle he needs to overcome before this.

He still comes regularly, though. For someone who lived a regimental lifestyle like he did, you suppose it has something to do with maintaining a routine. Every other day, he is present, and sometimes, you note, he arrives almost half an hour early, watching the dance practice through the glass doors from the room across the hall.

You now leave the chai where he can help himself to it, and the cushioned mats rolled out so that he can take himself through the preliminary stretches while he waits.

The muscle atrophy, that is sometimes expected in cases of severe burns, does not present in any such way with Nanami. You can see, in the firmness of his stride, in the way he is able to balance his weight, in the slow loss of infirmity, that he has been working hard to maintain his strength and regain his physical abilities.

This is not what worries you. It's what comes after.

One month after treatment began, you see him ascend the staircase without assistance from a cane. He looks across the small distance, that bewitching hazel eye so firm, so proud, so accomplished, turning to you for acknowledgement that you cannot help the small sound of delight that escapes you. You also feel your stomach clench in anticipation.

Once in the room, you notice the small hint of amusement on his face, as you serve him from a plate of samoosas. You lift a curious brow.

"What is it?"

"You don't have to look so concerned. I won't be trying to take on any missions."

"I'm not concerned about- "

You cut yourself off, busying your hands with the tea. When you look up again, your breath catches slightly in your throat. He is watching you with what looks like tenderness, one hand still holding the plate you've absently passed to him. He speaks again, leaning back in his chair.

"There is something I haven't told you yet."

"And what's that?"

"About a dream of mine. One I've had for a very long time."

"And I presume it's a good dream?"

"In every sense. When I worked as a salaryman, I planned to save up enough money to retire. Live somewhere affordable, near the sea. Somewhere like Kuantan. I'd finally get to read all the books I'd bought and never finished. I'd live peacefully. Travel now and then."

You hum slightly, considering this dream.

"That sounds wonderful. Do you still think that this dream ... belongs to you? That it can be your reality, someday?"

"I always have. But ... I also know that such dreams come at a heavy price."

"Nanami ... I'd say that you've paid a thousand times over for such a dream."

Your heart twists at the pained knowledge in his glance. You've underestimated his astute nature.

He knows.

"I did tell you that one of the younger sorcerers saved my life, before. It was Yuuji. He found me when I was half conscious, burned, hallucinating about ... but that's beside the point. When I walked through that subway, I kept thinking the same thought, over and over again. 'Haven't I done enough?'"

The silence that descends upon the room is stifling. You clasp your hands over your knees.

"And have you?"

"I don't know, truthfully. Every time I think I have, there is something else. There will always be those who need the help of sorcerers. As long as I am able, how can I deny them that help?"

He is testing the waters, you can tell. Something about the last time he entered your domain must have triggered a curiosity in him, a desire to know just how much you could help him. You're not sure what it is, but you feel a rush of hope, a sense of a dawning breakthrough.

He spoke of a dream, and you know that Nanami never speaks idly. You pour him another glass of tea.

"I have a suggestion. Would you like to enter my domain again?"

(VI)

Padam: Simplicity

This time, there is no pre-amble. Nanami seats himself on the cushion at the centre of the room with preternatural calm, but you sense the roil of emotions beneath. It gives you a sense of purpose, as you prepare, focusing your technique as you braid your hair and apply the red alta dye to your hands and feet and leave it to dry.

When you enter the room, you see his gaze immediately follow the movement of your hands. You crouch beside him, and something feels different.

Prior to this, Nanami was yet another patient of Shoko's, referred to your family for the kind of healing that physiologically-based cursed techniques couldn't touch. It was the reason that the study of their connection had fizzled out. Practitioners like Shoko were fully aware of the effects, but could not recommend them without a sense of hesitation.

And what was Nanami to you now?

You'd been avoiding that question. You know, full well, that helping him has become a desire birthed inside you as vital as breathing. You want to see him well, you want to see him happy, you want his laugh to echo through the corridors of Jujutsu Tech and his feet to find their way to warm sands and the gentle caress of waves. It is that simple.

(You wish it was.)

Your touch on his abdomen is charged with the weight of this knowledge, the heat that floods your veins intoxicating as he opens himself to you. You feel for the thread that hangs in the still interior of the self, the quivering vibration that changes and slides from his soul to yours.

There. It is different this time.

There is a tug of greater urgency, a rhythm that swells into a powerful current that threatens to snatch away your control.

No. You won't let it.

The reigns twist in your hand, but you pull them further into yourself, taking them, pioneering your way across the ocean of his desolation and uncertainty. You begin the steady rhythm, synchronized with the music of his soul. The drums behind you take it up. The song holds power, heady and fractious.

There will be theater in your performance tonight.

You spring away from Nanami, the connection between you thrumming with latent energy. The visions of his mind's eye flash upon yours, a series of broken images. You need more coherency. And so, you dance.

You allow your expression to mould to a frightening form, eyes wide, shadows gathering beneath them. Your palm raised, the other thumb above it, quivering.

Illumination. Let the soul reveal itself.

And it does. Nanami's form, dragging his feet, fresh, horrific burns across his torso, swimming into your vision. As you take measured steps across the floor, knees poised high, anklets chiming, his footsteps echo yours.

You turn, palms facing floorward and ceilingward, the red seeping between your fingers in the dim light reminiscent of the blood that creeps sluggishly from the raw ends of his scorched flesh. You take his pain into yourself, whirling across the floor.

And then, something startling. Yuuji appears, but not as the heroic saviour. There is a gaping hole in his chest, those bright eyes, fervent with life, now empty and soulless. He collapses with a solid thud and your steps falter.

This is not -

And then, Nobara. Your hands draw back, foot placed on the flesh of the enemy, but Nobara's face explodes in a bloom of scarlet, painting the walls with a hibiscus flare of bone, flesh and matter.

Why is he -

Nanami's face and neck are drenched in sweat, his eyes shut tightly. There are crescents forming in the fabric of his trousers, over the knees, where his fingernails dig into the flesh. The cymbals are now clashing to a faster pace, and you are drawn along, the river of his despair breaking its banks.

You see them, one by one, in-between the rush of your spinning braid, arms and the red flash of your fingers. All of them. All of the students Nanami holds so dear, lifeless, bodies broken beyond repair. A thin, bespectacled man in a dark suit, motionless on the ground, blood seeping from beneath him. Shoko, with her lackadaisical smile and lazy warmth, neck slit, dropping to her knees. Haibara Yu, his youthful face ghastly and pale, one finger raised, pointing.

There is a dreadful sound emerging from Nanami's throat, pain and loss and suffering ground between his teeth to spill into his lap, along with the dampness that rushes from beneath his single, uncovered eyelid. You fight against the overwhelming current, back towards him, the muscles of your legs screaming as his cursed energy pushes up from all around him, a defensive wall.

You're on your knees beside him now, reaching past the battering of his energy, grasping hard at his shoulders.

Come back. Come back to me.

He is twisting in your grasp, his strength all but overwhelming, even in his weakened state. You position your hands on either side of his face, gently, the tendons in your neck standing out with the effort of keeping them in place.

Come back to me.

You are vaguely aware that words are spilling from between his clenched lips, the muffled sounds slowly gaining clarity as you fix your gaze on his mouth.

"Why not me, why not me, why not me, why - "

You feel an answering dampness on your own cheeks as you draw him closer, feeling his cursed energy envelope you, binding you even closer in mind and body.

"Not you, Nanami. Not you. Because your life is not going to be spent like this. Not like this."

Through the atomic engagement of your cursed energy, you feel for the familiarity of him, and you flood his awareness with images that push away the darkness that lingers. Of Yuuji and his kind eyes and watchful care, of Nobara with her brash humour and protective glance. You force him to confront the reality of the others he's buried in his memory, of the bespectacled man scurrying around his office, of Shoko puffing out a dense, white cloud as her head tilts back against a pillar, of the other students, traipsing back in, exhausted after a mission, of a young man pulling a ski mask over a cheeky, lop-sided grin.

"They need you, Nanami Kento. They need you to be alive and well. That's all they've ever wanted."

Your voice has lowered to a whisper as your domain is finally able to manifest, unfolding in the absence of his resistance. The many-petaled flower blooms in shadow, until the shining heart of it breaches like a whale's head above the turbulent waves.

And Nanami is enfolded in your arms, head pillowed against your shoulder, as your voice draws his drowning mind inwards, a solitary lifeline.

*****

Nanami does not return for his scheduled appointment the day after, or the time after that. Two weeks go by with no sign of him. You debate calling Shoko to enquire after him, your concern growing like a viper, hatched in the pit of your stomach.

Something holds you back, however. The same idea that forces you to confront what Nanami Kento has become to you. Your technique alone is based on facing the uncomfortable truths buried deep in your soul, and your feelings for him are no exception.

You cannot, in good conscience, call Shoko when the man you have come to care for so deeply wants nothing more to do with you, or your domain. The best thing for both of you would be to remain as silent ships, passing each other on the vast ocean, as Nanami gradually finds his way to the uncertain shore of recovery.

You cannot help but wonder, though, if you did truly have some impact on him. Had it worked? Would he now make more positive changes in his life that you would simply remain unaware of, or would he ignore all the progress you had made since the first time he'd stepped through those doors? You had to make peace with the idea that you'd probably never know.

(It still leaves you breathless with hurt, remembering the tender scent of him that remains on your clothes.)

******

Nanami does return, just not in the manner you'd expected.

It is a cool spring day, a full month after the incident in the dance hall. You've just come down from your apartment on the third level, wrapping a scarf around your neck and steeling yourself to brave the chill. You hear footsteps on the stairs, and you will your heart to a regular beat as their steady pace and weight sounds familiar. You've long given up the chance of seeing him again.

And then the distinctive wing of blonde hair makes an appearance past the rickety balustrade, followed shortly by the rest of him, and something in your chest constricts, because all of your discipline and mindfulness is about to fly out the window, and -

He mounts the final stair, pausing as he takes you in, in your outdoor clothes. You are trying, failing, trying so hard not to read too much into his expression, but there ... you see it. His eye kindles; the warmth of it floods the narrow space between you two, seeping into you down to your bones. No scarf can replicate this.

He steps forward, uncertainly, face twisting slightly in pained apology.

"Am I ... I hope you're well."

"I am. You look ... "

He is finally clad in the form most natural to him, a tan business suit, dark blue shirt beneath, a speckled tie cast to one side by the wind. His hair has grown drastically in the time he's been absent, one half of his scalp covered by a short growth of luxuriant white. He wears a dark glove over his left hand, presumably protecting the sensitive burnt skin there.

He is walking, completely without aid, only a slight stiffness betraying the original severity of his injury. All the elegance, strength and beauty you saw in him at first glance, now magnified beyond your comprehension, because something else is different.

His soul, the Atman that had struggled like a wounded tiger, frantic and torn, beating against its constraints, is not whole. Not just yet. It is, however, expanding beyond the borders of his body, exuding that confidence and grace you knew were such a vital part of his being. This is Nanami, the shackles of his mind trailing with uncertainty behind him as his gaze seeks yours.

You take a breath, but he holds up a hand.

"Please, let me speak first."

Seeing your slow nod, he seems slightly relieved.

"I apologise sincerely for not coming sooner. I felt that ... I needed to make progress on my own, to come to terms with what you'd shown me, before I came here once again. Above all I was ... "

Those rich, mellow tones of his drop to the range of the barely audible.

"Above all, I was ashamed. Of how obtuse I'd been. Of all the things I'd missed. I had to make that right somehow, to work harder to show the people who care about me that I can learn. That I can change. That I can ... think of myself and prioritize my well-being."

You are vaguely aware that you've drawn closer, a hapless moth, fluttering closer to a consuming flame.

"And are you at such a point now? You can really think of yourself?"

He huffs a soft laugh, eye traveling slowly, softly over your hair, your face, your lips.

"Yes. Yes, I think I can. If you choose to forgive me, maybe I can accompany you on your walk now?"

******

It is not the only time he walks with you. Nanami starts to visit again, regularly, but not just for yoga and exercises. Many of his visits are social, calling on you with a small gift of some edible treat or other that he'd discovered.

He tells you that he has started working at the Tech again, but in a purely advisory capacity, holding special seminars for younger sorcerers on the dynamics of co-operative missions, prioritizing the safety of oneself and teammates, strategy and appropriate preparation before missions.

He watches each young face that peers earnestly at him from the audience and feels a sense of peace, that he is doing all that he can to help them survive the harsh world that awaits. He is also liaising with various counseling services, trying to build a solid foundation for sorcerers who require emotional and psychological support.

You listen to each of his endeavours with delight, especially when he asks if you are willing to be part of this new co-ordinated team, bringing your area of specialty to the table.

Other times, you sit on the balcony with him, watching the ebb and flow of humanity in the city below, your bubble of tranquility untouched. These times are the most precious to you, because that is when Nanami's shoulders ease, when the lines at the corners his eyes deepen with merriment, when he tells you stories of places he's visited, people he's come across, anecdotes from his days as a salaryman and the latest exploits of the students.

There are times when he leans in close, when your breath halts at the verdant, warm, masculine scent of him. There are times when you pass him a steaming glass and your fingers brush the ends of his, and you notice that he always takes off his glove when he sits with you. Sometimes you stand, side by side on the balcony, your upper arm pressed slightly against his, revelling in the sweet, solid proximity of him.

It is one one of those occasions that you turn to him, to point out a new store that has opened not far away, and you see that he is watching you. There is no shame in his glance, only a gentle wonder that weaves a golden bridge between the both of you. Your voice is soft, reverent.

"What is it?"

"I'm remembering the first time I saw you dance."

"Oh?"

"You were teaching a class, as I recall. I remember standing by the door, watching, and some time later, your eyes were on me. And I realized that I couldn't remember anything that had happened in between."

He reaches for you, the glove absent, and you lean into his touch without hesitation. His fingers are light, so light, as they trace across your temple, your cheek, the corner of your lips.

"And ... during our second session, when you held me, I knew that I couldn't continue like this. That you were using the strength of your soul to heal mine, and that if I didn't do my best to understand what you had shown me, then all your effort would have been for nothing. I couldn't accept that."

Your forehead finds purchase against his, a natural movement that echoes the press of your palm against the substantiality of his chest.

"And now?"

"Now ... I can walk beside you in the sun."

The taste of his mouth is a nectar you've never known you've craved. It is heady, a fiery joining of soft and rough, the edges of the scar tissue tracing along your lips like the light drag of a fingernail.

You open your arms to him once more, and this time, he stays.

(VII)

Thillana: Revivification

After learning the soul, learning the body is as natural as breathing. You were hesitant about touching him, wondering how much he'd allow after his injuries. You needn't have worried much on that account. As much as he makes your heart flutter and sing with his praises, with his eager, gentle touches, with the growing harshness of his lips against yours, all that he seems concerned with is how to use his body best to bring pleasure to yours.

You have seen the barest desolation of his soul, and its healing, and the damage to his body means as little to both of you as the muted rush of traffic outside your small apartment.

His urgency is sweetened by the clumsy tug and pull on zips and fastenings, on the shedding of clothes, the soft exhales, painting skin with warm moisture in between the frantic pace of your lips and his.

His hands are so large, spanning your ribcage as you lead him to your bed, circling and finding purchase on the dip of your waist. His body is a moving furnace that warms you as you stumble and clutch at each other, the ripple of muscle like an unseen beast beneath the waves as your palms explore his shoulders, arms, torso, hips.

Kento's skin is a map of hidden treasures, the smooth, tawny, gold- flecked expanse of chest meeting the ridges of scar tissue halfway across. The new growth of white hair on his scalp is downy soft between your fingers, in contrast to the silky texture on the right. His powerful thighs slide between yours, the forward thrust of his hips spreading you open to receive his weight.

He is not forceful, and yet, takes the reigns of your intimate dance almost as if by instinct. He pauses above you, propped on his hands, chest heaving slightly as he takes you in, his amber-shot gaze misty with adoration and lust. You reach up, tracing the firm line of his nose, the sharpness of his jaw, the sinew of his neck. Every new angle you spy reveals more, that elusive, predatory beauty that never fails to enchant you.

His head dips, the blonde strands falling forward softly against your skin as he kisses a line of fire down your torso, quickening your breathing as his tongue flickers against your flesh. He holds you down, pressing you firmly into the mattress as he worships each breast, lapping, suckling, savouring.

He moves further down, and your sharp breathing devolves into whispered pleas and whimpers as he nudges your inner thigh softly with his nose. So deliriously slow, so decisive, as in every action he takes, he devours his way to the apex of your thighs, sliding his hands underneath you as you lift your hips and present yourself further to him.

The feast he has been waiting for lies open beneath his gently probing fingers, their honey smearing over his lips as he tastes you, eye snapping up as a breathy moan escapes your lips. He laps at you with heady abandon, that smoky, devoted gaze never leaving the contortions of your face as he brings you to each hard-won peak, drifting you back down to a mellow lake of blinding pleasure.

Your fingers slide and catch on his shoulders, anchoring yourself as blood thunders in your ears, and a rising storm, electric and charged with fresh potency, builds at every ultra-sensitive point of contact. He is your passionate guide, leading you to a shining horizon, familiar and yet fraught with the overwhelming knowledge that he is the one who pulls you over the edge of the thundering waterfall.

You are submerged, the shake of your limbs and the hoarse cry of your voice reaching up from beneath the surface your senses have yet to emerge from. When they do, you glance down at him, past your heaving chest, at the blaze that roars within him as he beholds you splayed out, breathless; an offering.

He takes it.

The slow crawl of his skin, sliding against your damp flesh, the brief touch of his mouth at the hollow of your throat, the brush of his nose against yours. He takes your lips in a soft request for entry, groans into your mouth as you trace the ridges of his spine.

Kento is almost too much for you, the burning vitality that steals your breath, the fullness of your arms as they embrace all of him. The air rushes out of your lungs as the hardened press of his length breaches you, fills you to overflowing.

He holds you close, so close, as if he could meld your bodies as you had once done with your cursed energy, ragged puffs of air escaping his lips to collect like clouds in the evening sky of your hair. His movements are slow, dragging tears from the corners of your eyes, drunk and blissful moans cocooned within the slowly rotating vessel of your lovemaking.

You are at sea with him, around him, washing over his starving self and nourishing his spirit with every slick press of your bodies together, every arch of your back, every trace of his scarred skin, every gentle touch of your lips to his brow, cheek, mouth. He is now taking as well as giving, rolling his hips hard into the widening harbour of your thighs, soft grunt and pants deepening in their urgency.

The unfolding within you is different, completely out of your control. A wild, reckless dance, the rhythm ever-changing, golden threads running like molten metal between the undulations of your bodies. The flower of your combined desire unfurls, petal by petal, each dropping to the floor as new layers of delight and abandon are reached.

The bed creaks beneath the weighted push of his thrusts, his hands flying to your cheeks as your cries grow louder, louder, raspy and choked. This is the true face of passion, the complete submission to the will of your lover, the way you take all that he gifts you with and reciprocate with the finest nectar that slides from the deepest parts of you, soaking the sheets beneath you.

It is here, it is here in the glazed film of his eye beneath dusky lashes, the sweat between his body and yours, the heat that stretches on and on to an infinity within your knowing and snaps-

Washing over his ears in your sharp scream of release, in the wanton covering of his mouth with yours, the ecstasy of a thousand fluttering birds within the cage of your ribs. This time, the gentle ripple of your tide pulls him forward over the edge, his deep groan of guttural satisfaction reverberating through your whole body as his hips stutter and still their frantic pace.

You lie with him, afterwards, limbs entangled, aware only of the shift of his nose against your collarbone, the tightening of his arms around you, the way you wrap yourself around his form, as if to shield him, just for a moment, from the world he has been born into.

Kento.

Brightness, shadow, mellow and hard-edged, the loveliness of everything in-between.

Yours.

How can you ever call it anything other than love?

(VII)

Mangalam: Gratitude

To be in Kento's presence is to discover a thousand tiny precious shards, hidden in the silken folds of your changing life, piecing them together to form a diamond of unparalleled value.

He is quiet, stubborn, brave, resilient, mischievous and agile of mind. He challenges your thoughts on the jujutsu world, brings summer to your heart and draws you into the sunshine of his embrace. The fractured nature of his soul is not one that can be undone, but weeds (hardy and weathered) have grown through the cracks and your own flowerbed finds a home there, gently blossoming.

You are reminded of every richness he has brought into your life on one summer night, in the aftermath of a taxing mission for some of the students, when he meets them for supper and a discussion of what had occurred.

This time, Megumi is also present, and he reminds you a little of Kento as he watches Yuuji's animated re-enactment of the battle, rolling his eyes at obvious embellishments, adding a solemn word now and then. Kento leans forward on his elbows, listening attentively, as always.

When Yuuji is finished, Kento sits back, contemplatively sipping his coffee.

"What you've described is certainly concerning. I'd take this information up with the research committee as soon as you've filed your report. They may want to know details like that."

Yuuji nodded fervently.

"Already on it. I've been looking it up and there was a similar surge in cursed energy in Okinawa a few years ago. Pretty much leveled a small village. I'm not taking any chances with this one. I've texted Ijichi about sealing technique specialists and requested a team to map out energy signatures in the surrounding area. Anything I may have missed?"

You take note of the small smile that graces Kento's face, the pride that spills out along its sharply defined edges.

"No. You've done well, Yuuji. It's exactly what I would have done under those circumstances."

"Oh?"

Yuuji's surprised expression quickly morphs to something else, a deepening realization that silences him and brings a tight, tender quality to the set of his mouth.

Kento has called him by his first name.

********

On the slow stroll back to your home, you link your arm with his. The night sky is flecked with faint stars, unusual to see in the normally smog-laden sky over the city. You speak into the comfortable silence.

"Yuuji handled that well."

"He's a born leader. I've always thought so. He has the confidence and drive to be the strongest, not just in technique. Not to mention the magnitude of what he's already accomplished."

He pauses, one finger idly tracing over his eyepatch.

"I noticed it on our first mission together. He was not just a young sorcerer, going through the motions, trying to survive. He genuinely felt for the victims of the curse. It ... reminded me of Haibara, a little."

He gives your hand a small reassuring pat.

"Not that I've ever confused the two. They're fundamentally different. But Yuuji ... Yuuji had a light inside of him. He made me take note. He made me see him, and his spirit."

Your fingers entwine with his, tugging his hand up to your lips.

"Your spirit is quite marvellous too, you know."

He eyes you sideways, slyly.

"It is?"

"Of course."

"Would you like to elaborate?"

"Fishing for compliments, are we?"

"From your lovely tongue, always."

Your laughter echoes in the silent street, stretching out along the sidewalk, shimmering in the puddles that had formed after the rain.

"You are beautiful, Nanami Kento, and you're- "

You never finish that sentence, as his hands draw you closer, his lips finding yours in the glow of the street lamp. In that moment, you can think of nothing else apart from the man who strides with quiet confidence beside you, on every conceivable path to an unknown future.

He is a red-painted center, kindling in the palm of your hand, the tiger that inhabits the secret garden of your heart, the flame in a gilded brazier that never goes out.

************

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