#and she can’t even speak because so much has happened
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Ellie crushing on her best friend's mom ..
And she doesn't even try to hold herself from letting herself leaning right into your touch. Her eyes still lock strongly with yours, as if she was a puppy that's completely entranced and taken by the soft caresses of its owner.
"I..I need you, m-ma'am." she whispers, barely above a breath, and it was so desperately needy.
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warnings: age gap (ellie in her 20s), needy and desperate sub! ellie / indifferent and teasing dom! reader, ownership kink, thigh-riding, orgasm denial, mentions of ellie's fantasies about reader, infidelity, reader has some type of avoidance or issues with her guilt happening, slight angst(?)
a/n: i don't usually like writing age gaps so i tried to make it obvious that they are both adults and i also don't imagine ellie to be a freshman or sophomore with a milf! i did find this request really unique, though. anon should write because that is a lovely prompt.
And she doesn't even try to hold herself from letting herself leaning right into your touch. Her eyes still lock strongly with yours, as if she was a puppy that's completely entranced and taken by the soft caresses of its owner.
"I..I need you, m-ma'am." she whispers, barely above a breath, and it was so desperately needy....
Your hands cup her face, strong and loving. A touch not of lust, not pure sexual desire, but rather an emotional need that begs to be quenched. That scares you a bit. Your daughter isn’t home, but Ellie sure is.
“Do you think about me, the way I think about you?” Ellie asks, sounding particularly uncertain.
You simply smile, an expression similar to Ellie’s gaze that doesn’t reveal much. “Why, do I think of you as my owner?” You question, and Ellie’s heart squeezes within the confines of her ribs.
“No, not that! I mean..Do you crave me, too?” With a voice but a whisper, Ellie looks up at you between the fans of her lashes.
Of course, you dance around it all. Perhaps you’re scared to fully close the distance, as if getting this close to your dear daughter’s best friend isn’t bad enough. The answer that follows is one that Ellie cannot be surprised by, but she can’t be disappointed at your avoidance, not when your thumb applies itself over the softness of her cheek, just barely grazing over her jaw.
“Sure, I crave you. Are you going to give me what I want?” You lean in as you speak. Ellie’s self control is limited.
A college-age thing is what Ellie is. Not inexperienced, but starved and needy for a touch of a hand from a mind that knows how to actually control her. Most girls within her dorms would fuck her and dip, sad truth. You talk in pretentious rhymes, touch her with just grazes and soft affections, so aggravating and yet, she finds herself visiting you when your daughter is unaware.
With such limited self control, you can’t be neither offended nor surprised when this freckled face leans in, and your stomach internally coils with a dose of need when she hesitates in her journey to imprint the lines of her lips onto yours. It’s a need that differs from Ellie’s, one that isn’t as impatient. Yours begs your fingers to soak themselves with her nectar, and it wishes to ruin her.
“C-Can I kiss you now?” Ellie asks pleadingly. “Please?”
The disappointing thing should be that you don’t say yes, or even throw an ounce of enthusiasm towards her. In a way, it sets her insides on fire. A sick part of Ellie likes the neglect on your behalf. Still, she finds herself leaning, leaning even closer into your space, and finally allowing herself to feel what she has hoped to experience after ages of perverse courtship.
Your kiss isn’t comparable to her past in any way, shape, or form–you possess her mouth with an intensity that leaves her gasping for oxygen from the start. It is far from the sweet, tender peck high school crushes offered up to her, and truly opposite from drunken, sloppy make-outs on dirty dorm couches. Your lips seem to wrap around or embed themselves against each of hers, giving separate attention before the pink, wet muscle Ellie has dreamed of feeling buried between her freckled thighs delves between her plush lips to seek out her tongue, though it may be tied.
It is all too soon when you pull away, a string of saliva still connecting the two of you. Ellie feels a slight sense of satisfaction upon seeing you breathless. She is far too used to your indifference to the point where she finds herself surprised that you exhibit any vulnerability, even if it is just a shortness of breath. It doesn’t leave her any less in need of you to own her, though.
You sit on the couch behind you, and like Pavlov’s dog, Ellie crawls into your lap. Ellie, the same Ellie in boot-cut Levi’s and some worn hoodie, finds herself in the lap of you, a woman who only slips on skirts you’d typically find in an office, and heels Ellie wishes you’d crush her with. Ellie previously never cared to sit in a woman’s lap like a needy dog, but can’t seem to help herself.
Right there on your couch, husband working to provide and your daughter back at her dorm room, you give Ellie the sensations she has been aching for. Her Levi’s are hap-hazardly thrown on the ground, and her panties are still on her. The fabric sticks to her sloppy, wet cunt as she drags it over the plush of your thigh.
“U-Uh, huh..fuck me..” she breaths, hips shifting on you. You don’t miss the way her eyes glaze over, the lids sliding over her eyes, twitching in explicable need.
“Fuck you? That’s pretty vulgar, Ellie.” You playfully scold, your affectionate hold on her hips dragging the one thing she is thinking with onto over your thigh. Her clit.
“Jus’ make me so needy, can’t help it.” She whines in your ear, heating up the cartilage.
She can’t figure out why, but you allow Ellie to rut herself against your leg like it’s her lifeline. You’ve got this slick smile plastered on your face, and she doesn’t comment on it. In truth, she is scared that one wrong word or question of “what are we doing? Will we do this again? Is this more than just teasing and cumming?” will force you to flee. She imagines you so fragile in your feelings for her, only letting your guard down and allowing yourself to actually fuck and own her will cause a quake in the Earth.
“You’re close.” You state, and the simplicity of it makes Ellie softly moan. The sound travels from your ears, between your brain, and straight down to your own cunt.
“Gonna make a mess on your thigh with my cum, mhmm..” Ellie bites her lip to hold back from moaning too loudly, not wanting any neighbors to wonder why the sounds are erupting from your lovely house at four in the afternoon.
The intense feeling of something bubbling up inside of her most desperate places, like a witches’ cauldron right before it boils over, is exactly what Ellie feels. She is right on the edge of something she believes to be exactly what she needs, and the start to maybe someday feeling your touch on her bare pussy, or at least dragging the soaked thing along your thigh for a second time. Instead, she is left empty-handed, and utterly humiliated.
“Okay, okay. That’s enough.” You say, hands unfortunately slipping away from her janky hips. Ellie swallows her disappointment down in a wretched lump, awkwardly swinging one leg over and situating herself on the couch beside you. Her clit jumps from just seeing you, the red of your cheeks you can’t hide with verbal denial or a schooled expression.
“I’ve got a comp essay to write. See you later, ma'am.” Ellie mumbles, not really thinking about whether or not you can hear it. She grabs her jeans, zipping up the metal teeth, and then laces up her converse. Her guess is that you pretend not to hear her, not uttering a single word.
Outside of the door, Ellie wonders what it is that makes you the way you are. You want to have her, and you were so close to fully letting go. Perhaps it’s the guilt; you’re a married woman, afterall. Ellie is your daughter’s best friend, for Christ’s sake. She should feel guilty. Her ribs ache at the thought that she isn’t feeling what is morally right, but the haunting thoughts of your touch on her body leave her mind clouded.
She wishes that she could be even half as casual as you are.
taglist: @kaykeryyy i know you like getting tagged on ellie fics, so enjoy!
#requests#ellie williams#tlou2#ellie tlou#the last of us part 2#ellie the last of us#ellie x reader#ellie smut#ellie wiliams#tlou ellie#ellie x fem reader#ellie x y/n#ellie x you#the last of us 2
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NOWHERE GIRL
PART SEVENTEEN
kang sae-byeok x fem!reader
synopsis: sae-byeok has been ignoring you for a couple of days and you have to find a way to confront her.
wc. 3.6k
warnings: none
(nowhere girl masterlist)
During those two weeks you didn’t face, Sae-byeok had a lot of time to—think. Properly think. Not just about the outside worries of the world like her all consuming debts, but about who she is. At first, she used to immediately kill the idea of exploring her sexuality. She didn’t have time for such things, it’s not of her. But ever since you abruptly barged your way into her life, she keeps getting pulled back down to face this idea.
Sae-byeok didn’t care about love either. She was content being by herself and the idea of having to bear another person’s responsibilities is too much. But with you it was so easy. Too easy. She has seamlessly embraced you so many times now and has held your hand—all like it was a natural instinct.
She’s getting new feelings and emotions she can’t pinpoint nor has a clue how to act upon them.
Sae-byeok bites the inside of her cheek. She’s looking at you now after days of trying not to, and the answer became clearer.
She thinks you’re a wonderful person. The brightest thing in her shitty life. She likes how much more kinder and wiser you are than her about life, yet still have a form of resilience even if you act upon them recklessly. The fact that you chose to leave your comfortable world behind to find more meaning in yourself in a country that’s against you—it inspired her to think about herself in that aspect. The world was also against her, but she didn’t willingly leave everything she loved behind like you did. However, you both did it for the freedom. But you aren’t naive for leaving—you are an optimist…meanwhile she’s on the other end of that coin. A pessimist.
Today you both came back to the apartment around the same time, you were ar work at the gallery whilst she pickpocketed. Because Sae-byeok lost her most stable job ever and she isn’t sure what will happen once you leave for the summer—she’s tirelessly going from city to city almost everyday trying to collect as much as she can from people’s pocket. Life is becoming uncertain again. It’s scarier now that she has Cheol to take care of. She’s terrified the closer the date of your departure creeps up.
But what scares her the most is what will happen when you come back. You could potentially meet new, more interesting and stable people meaning you’ll forget all about her. Sae-byeok turns bitter just thinking about it.
That’s why she refuses to speak to you. Because realistically, you won’t come back knocking on the apartment door and you’ll just be a lingering ghost trapped in her mind forever. A faint memory.
It was hard at first, avoiding you. Especially since you come to her so bright and full of optimism. She learned to just reply to you with a head shake and walk away. It pained her at first, seeing the obvious hurt in your eyes and your lower lip twitch but one day you’ll thank her. And she will come out of this without a broken heart.
In the kitchen, Sae-byeok is waiting for the water on the pot to boil for her instant ramen. Her phones currently in her room charging—the only form of entertainment she has is watching you.
You, of course, were sitting on the couch with your legs in a crisscross position while you jot down things in your tiny notebook. She was curious to know what possibly you could be writing down. Maybe you were writing a list of items you need for your Italy trip—or spilling your feelings like a journal. Either way, you are deeply concentrated on writing something down. It must be important.
But after a while, your neck and wrist need a break. So, you stretch your limbs and in the process of that your head tilts to where Sae-byeok is standing looking at you. Your face lit up when you caught her because it’s been days since you two made eye contact.
However, her expression hardens and she swiftly spins back around to check up on the boiling water. She concentrates on the feeling she gets in her chest—the rapid thump of her heart. That was something new. And it only took you to look at her for her heart to react this way.
She mentally curses at herself when she hears you shuffling. You had to be making your way to the kitchen. It was hard to avoid you when you keep trying your best to approach her.
“Hey,” she hears that soft voice creeping behind her. Sae-byeok stiffens when you stand next to her. “I was thinking what if I bring back pastries back from Italy. Seeing as you worked at a bakery I think it would be nice to get you sweets. Do you know any Italian sweets?”
Sae-byeok nods no and silently pours the boiling water into the ramen cup.
“Okay, well see if you can find something that peaks your interest. I’m making a list and I want you fill at least half of it.”
There you go again—being the wonderful selfless person, she thinks.
Sae-byeok knows she doesn’t deserve even a quarter of your kindness. You can do so much better than this, she’s sure of it. She’s just waiting for the day you realize that your life could be so much more fulfilling if she wasn’t in the picture.
Sae-byeok just darts to her room with the ramen cup in hand. Dealing with the guilt of giving you the cold shoulder was hard, but she knows she’ll have a harder time dealing with the grief of you forgetting about her.
It’ll be better this way. You both will come out less hurt in the end.
⊹ ✿・・───・・✦・・───・・✿
The thrift shop felt like it was part of a ghost town. Only you, Ji-yeong, and a singular visible employee are situated within these four walls currently. Although most of the clothing and shoe racks were filled to the brim, you could only afford to come for the one thing you need. A suitcase. And Ji-yeong swore by this place.
“Ah, well this isn’t much. Not like last time.” Ji-yeong pouts, crossing her arms and looks disappointed at the fact that there’s only three suitcases in the entire shop. “But that’s what we get for shopping last minute right before June.”
You reach over to inspect each of the suitcases. However, most have huge stains on the inner lining and one doesn’t even have a zipper attached.
“I guess these are the ones people didn’t want.” you sigh and roll them back to their previous spot in the corner of the shop. “I probably have to break the bank a little and buy one in a market.”
She scoffs. “Nonsense. Let’s come on a Monday morning that’s the day they get the best stock out.”
“Where are you going?”
“Shopping obviously.” she chips and scrolls through the endless rack of women’s tops. You send her a look. “What? I need new clothes for the warmer weather and it seems like you do too.”
“I can’t.” you say. It’s true—although it wasn’t the original plan at first. If you didn’t insist on paying Sae-byeok’s rent this month you would’ve been able to get new clothes for your trip. But you’re not going to cry over it.
Sae-byeok. Even just thinking about her makes your chest pang. You couldn’t deny the crush you have on her anymore—not after she confessed something so personal to you.
Now, you think about what more she could be hiding from the world. Her smile. You wish to see her smile sincerely and not in the sly manner like she usually does. A genuine one. It would be nice if you could be the one to make Kang Sae-byeok crack a smile. But that won’t happen in a while because she has been avoiding you for the past week or so.
It’s eating you alive not knowing the reason as to why that is. Or could you possibly just be paranoid? You think you might’ve scared her in some way shape or form. But one can only assume so much before losing your mind. And you know you’re starting to turn crazy.
Sae-byeok has always been a wildcard. A candle in the wind especially when it comes to being vulnerable. And she’s been so vulnerable with you in the past but flipped the switch after her confession. It’s all so confusing.
You didn’t notice you were spacing out until Ji-yeong shoves a shirt in your face. You blink back to reality.
“What do you think?” she asks you. “It’s a basic plain shirt but I think the color is nice. And it’s only two bucks—score!”
“Yeah. Pink looks nice on you.” you hum. Ji-yeong grins and tosses the shirt over her shoulders to keep on searching. “Hey, Ji-yeong.” you say after more thinking.
“Hm?”
“I think, Sae-byeok is avoiding me.”
She pauses shuffling through the racks and turns to look at you with a hardened expression.
“What makes you say that?”
“When was the last time you saw her speak to me this week?”
She winces. “Shit. When you put it like that—it definitely seems like she is. Do you know if you’ve done anything to upset her? I know that’s a hard question to answer since she pretty much gets upset about many things.”
You press your lips into a thin line and think back to Sae-byeok’s confession. “No. Everything’s been normal.” you somewhat lie.
“The only way to find out is to directly ask her.” Ji-yeong advises. “She’s so stubborn I’m certain that she will hold a grudge against someone to the grave. But if you just cut the bullshit and ask her—boom! There’s a ninety percent chance she will tell you—not in the nicest way of course.”
Confrontation. You’re very familiar with it but it’ll be hard for you to confront Sae-byeok amidst the revelation of your feelings for her. You could choke up or even worse accidentally stare straight at her plump lips. It’s already happened once or twice it’s a shocker she hasn’t caught you in the act.
“This top just screams Italy.” she gasps, pulling out a white eyelet tank and measuring it on your upper body.
“I told you I can’t spend money.” you frown. It was hard for you to decline such a pretty item of clothing though.
Ji-yeong wriggles her eyebrows. “I’ll buy it for you, silly. You gave me this beautiful necklace—this will be my gift to you.” she pulls the necklace out from her shirt.
“Thanks.” you mutter with a shy smile. “I’m glad you’re actually wearing it.”
“I’m not one to wear jewelry but I like that this one isn’t heavy. I don’t even feel it most of the time.”
Ji-yeong spends another hour or so browsing through the thrift shop. You just trail behind her to be her judge but you couldn’t stop yourself from thinking about the stone faced girl. If her best friend agrees with you, then she’s certainly avoiding you. And you will do something about it.
The sun was threatening to fall into the depths of the night by the time you and Ji-yeong make it back to the apartment. The days were getting hotter now that summer was approaching, you could barely walk without feeling heat exhaustion. It might just be you though because Ji-yeong merrily enters the apartment with a new bag of clothes.
Her outburst broke Sae-byeok’s trance from the phone call she was in. She was currently sitting on the couch, posture slumped and currently eyeing her roommate while avoiding eyeing you. She blinks back to stare at the floor and waits for the person on the other end of the call to speak. Your jaw clenches slightly—it was so obvious now.
“Oh, here before I forget—or before I purposefully keep it for myself.” she snorts and tosses you the white tank from her bag. She leans to reach the shell of your ear. “Good luck and remember—confrontation.” she whispers and whisks away to her room.
You stand there, staggered and with a shirt on hand. The hardest part might actually be walking over to the couch rather than the talking. Her presence seems more intense than usual—like any tiny thing someone does or says will receive a major outburst from her.
But if Ji-yeong is right, she will tell you the truth. So, you suck it up and plop down on the couch leaving a great amount of room in between you and Sae-byeok.
She’s still looks unfazed by you and doesn’t shift her eyes anywhere other than the ground. It might be nothing but it still makes your chest tighten. What made you feel more hurt was the fact that you don’t know what you’ve done to get the silent treatment from her.
“If you haven’t found her why bother call me? You’re wasting my minutes.” Sae-byeok retorts on the phone. Her voice was loud and demanding, it made your muscles tense. “I know it’s—I’m getting there…Just call me when you get actual information next time. Fucker.” she mutters the last part after hanging the call.
“Is everything alright?” you ask right after.
Sae-byeok went poker face on you the second you spoke. But you caught the way she faintly bit the corner of her bottom lip. She perhaps was contemplating something before she stood up from the couch. This is the part where you know too well—where she runs and hides.
You get off the couch as well and walk around her tall stature to prevent her from secluding in her room. Her eyes went round for a brief second, like she wasn’t expecting you to stop her.
“You’re avoiding me. Why?” you say, demand in your tone.
Sae-byeok’s dilated eyes turn malevolent and she straightens her shoulders. When she finally looks at you that’s when her expression turns even colder. “What are you talking about?” she scoffs.
She bumps past your shoulders to her room. It left you so bewildered—her sudden change. Your jaw went slack.
Then she reappears back from her room with her coat that she aggressively throws on, her way to the entrance door. It leaves you appalled.
“Where are you going?”
“Out.” she responds coolly.
“Out? Just like that?” you ask and she slams the door behind her as a response.
You were the ten percent.
“Did you guys fight?” Cheol’s voice appears briefly after you stood there to process what just happened.
Your nostrils flare up but you try to remain calm in front of Cheol who slips out of the room timidly.
“She looks mad…and she always leaves the house when she’s mad.” he murmurs before yawning.
“No, we didn’t fight…But I’ll go talk to her.” you state. It was hard not to choke up and you aren’t sure if Cheol is buying your lie with the odd look he is giving you.
“Okay...” he says, unsurely.
“Don’t worry we’ll be back soon, okay?”
When Cheol reluctantly goes back into his rooms the tears you held back were start to brim your eyes. You didn’t want to talk to her anymore in fear of ending up more hurt. However, you still rummage through your basket of clothes to find your light weight jacket. A small part of you has hope and that might just be enough to confront her.
So, you run after her. When you step outside the complex, you could barely make out Sae-byeok’s stature in the shadows of the young night. She is already two blocks ahead and is about to make a corner turn. You did a lot of running this year, but you never expect to run after this girl.
You feel an immense adrenaline rush when you finally see her after running like your life depended on it. However, she kept up her fast pace.
“S…Sae-byeok!” you are barely to say across the other end of the block.
After hearing your faint cry she stops dead in her tracks but doesn’t make a move to turn around to look at you. Your adrenaline sparks even higher when you sprint closer to her.
Now that she was at arms reach, you yank her by her arm.
“What the fuck!” she hisses when you pull her to the direction of a alleyway corner. However, she doesn’t fight back.
You pin her to the back to the alleyway and take a couple steps backwards to properly catch your breath.
“What is wrong with you?” she snarls, her voice is shaking. It could be mistaken for anger but there was a hint of concern that seeps through her aggressive tone.
When you finally blink your eyes open, you straighten yourself up to face her fully. The alleyway was dark. The shadows cover Sae-byeok’s freckles and you could barely see her sharp eyes and grimacing lips.
All the anger, hurt, and sadness you were feeling whisks away. Now, you were full of determination because she has no choice but to face you. You don’t feel your body movements, however your mind is blurry with thoughts of her.
You grab her by her collar pull her closer to clumsily crash her lips into yours. It was a quick impulsive kiss that ended as soon as it started. You know Sae-byeok isn’t a person who trusts someone by their words, she needs to see their actions. Even if it jeopardizes everything, it was the only way you were able to express it to her.
Her glistening eyes search yours the moment you pull away. You couldn’t possibly tell what she was feeling, but your actions must’ve flustered her by the flush that crept her face.
“I’m sorry.” you breathe, releasing your grip from her. The pull you had on her jacket exposed the lengthy scar on her neck she quickly tries masking with her hair. “But you won’t even listen to me I didn’t know what else to do to make you…”
Sae-byeok remains speechless by your earnest action. Her mouth opens and closes like a fish above water trying to search for the words needed to be spoken but ultimately flounders. To you, it was a sign to bury away your feelings deeply.
“Are you going to say anything?” you ask, your voice oozing with desperation. But she keeps on being quiet. “Fine, if—if you don’t feel the same way I’ll get over it…But if I knew you’d act weird like this then I promise you I would’ve never done what I just did!”
Sae-byeok was never a woman of words. You know that.
She doesn’t say anything at all when she reaches to cup the sides of your face to kiss you again. Now that you both know this affection is mutual, the second time is more gentle and lasting. This new sensation of intimacy was still so new to both of you, so you gave each other time to savor and test out this long felt kiss through feathery movements of each other’s lips and hesitant touches.
By the time you both pull away, both your arms are all over each others. Her hands gripping your waist, while yours were entangled in her short raven hair. Your faces were still inches away from each others as you both catch your breaths. Goosebumps trail Sae-byeok’s arms when your fingers absentmindedly traces the scar on her neck.
“Why were you avoiding me?” you ask, your eyes sparkly with tears.
“I’m…” is all she was able to say.
You push her away, causing her back to get pushed against the wall once more, and you wipe your tears. What was worse was the fact that you could still feel the ghost of her lips on yours.
“Wh—What did I do…?” you press further, still aggressively wiping off crystals of tears. When all the teardrops were gone you look into her guilty eyes. “Tell me, Sae-byeok!”
Her lower lip trembles and she faces down to her shoes. It was faint but you could hear her muffle to hold back sobs.
You reach to tuck the strands of hair on the sides of her face and gently make her face you. Her red eyes make your heart clench. “This isn’t just about me is it?” you whisper to her. “Tell me what’s wrong? Please.”
“I’m sorry.” she croaks. She tries to regain her composure by straightening herself up but you could still hear her sniffling. “I’m…just scared.”
You sigh and lean back against the wall beside her. It might be easier for her to talk if you weren’t directly looking at her.
“Scared of what?”
“You leaving.” she replies. You gulp. “Because you can. And you don’t have to burden yourself with me or my shitty life again because you have the opportunity to—to do great things in life. I don’t.”
“And you thought avoiding me would…hurt less.” you finish.
She barely just nods. And you just wonder how many more people in her life have left her in the past for her to want to cope this way.
“That won’t ever happen—“
“How do you know?” she cuts off, trembling. “People change.”
You go to take her hand and wait for her to look at you. “I know because what I feel for you won’t change after one stupid trip.” you say and watch the way her bites her bottom lip. “Sae-byeok, you’re so brave—and just…the love you have for Cheol and your mom it’s so beautiful. I get why you put on a hard front but I know you deeply care for your people. I see it everyday. Every sacrifice you’ve made was for love. And tomorrow, you will wake up at five in the morning like you always do because of love. Not many people in this world can do that, but you do. That’s why I really—truly like you…”
Sae-byeok immediately goes to wrap her arms around you. Her breathing relaxes through your touch.
“I really like you too.” she mutters shyly. “And I’m sorry again for avoiding you.”
“I forgive you. But please never do this again.”
“I won’t.”
“Promise me.”
“I solemnly promise.”
When the hug is mutually broken, the intense and high emotions is long subdued. Leaving you two to awkwardly stand there and reflect on this moment. When you and Sae-byeok make eye contact after this awkward pause, neither of you glance away. Instead, you share a small moment of laughter—also sharing blush cheeks and racing hearts.
“So…” you mumble.
“So…” she repeats, continuing to smile bashfully at you.
“Does this mean you are also a lesbian?”
🏷️: @monroesturnns @knfthxv @jumpedthenfell-13 @peelover25 @karli6 @kissedberries @bitchybananaflower @laurenkenss @saebyeokbliss @everly-summers-solace @we1rdth0ughts @wlvlurvsfimmia
#kang sae byeok#kang sae byeok x reader#squid game#squid game fanfic#kang sae byeok squid game#fanfic#kang sae byeok x fem!reader#wlw#wlw fanfic#kang saebyeok#kang saebyeok x reader#sae byeok#saebyeok#squid game x reader
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I love bed Chem and the follow up!! I’d love to see them bump into each other outside of hook up times - like they’re both in the same coffee shop…and a cute barista is flirting with reader…and Bucky suddenly feels possessive when he sees it happening from across the shop but can’t say anything as they’re just hook up buds and it’s not his place to be jealous 🤭
Even Better Than In My Head
Characters/Pairings: Bucky Barnes x curvy!Millennial female!reader Word Count: 2.9k Summary: Hooking up with Bucky Barnes in the middle of the night has scratched the itch whenever you're craving between your legs, but crossing paths with the man out in the wild in normal life? Much more dangerous than you could have guessed.
Content Warnings: modern AU, hook up culture/bootycall, established sexual relationship
Author Notes: This is a follow-up to Parking Lot Chem and Camaraderie.
Logistical Notes: My first fill for @buckyboybingo (Gym) and my ninth bit for Valentine Storygrams!
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“This entire table is a masterpiece!” your sister exclaims, thoroughly impressed and overjoyed. “I seriously owe you!”
“You do!” you chide. “You owe me many, many favors.”
“I’d promise my first-born, but that ship has already sailed!” she replies, gesturing at her daughter - your niece - who is currently engaged in some sort of statue tag game with a gaggle of other children her age.
“I’m serious, though. You know you absolutely saved me.”
"I know," you say, waving off her gratitude with a smile. "That's what sisters are for, right?"
You both turn to survey the booth, a riot of pink and red decorations adorning every surface. Heart-shaped cookies, cupcakes with swirling frosting rosettes, raspberry-lemon bars, and delicate palmiers drizzled with white chocolate and heart-shaped sprinkles cover the table in neat, enticing rows.
"Seriously, though," your sister continues, lowering her voice, "this could make or break my campaign for PTA president. The entire board is here, and they're all watching to see how this goes."
You nod, remembering the frantic phone call you'd received two nights ago.
Your sister's voice had been a mix of panic and exhaustion as she explained how her usually angelic toddler had decided to test out his superhero abilities by leaping off the kitchen counter. The result? A nasty gash that required a trip to urgent care and several stitches. But to make matters worse, she’d only been so distracted to allow the failed test-flight of her two-year-old because she’d been trying to figure out why her oven would turn on, but refused to heat up past 180 degrees - nowhere near close enough to take care of her baking needs.
So you agreed - or offered, you really don’t quite remember how this part of the conversation went at this point - to take care of making all the baked goods.
“Couldn't let my favorite sister crash and burn at the Valentine's Day bake sale, could I?"
"I'm your only sister, you goof," she retorts with a laugh. "But again, thank you. I don't know what I would have done without you."
As you're about to respond, your sister's eyes suddenly widen, and a sly grin spreads across her face. She leans in close, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Speaking of paying you back, I think I'm about to start right now."
You follow her gaze across the crowded gymnasium, your curiosity piqued. Through the sea of parents and children, a tall figure is making his way towards your booth. As he draws closer, you can't help but notice how he seems to part the crowd effortlessly, his presence commanding yet somehow warm.
"See that absolutely gorgeous man heading our way?" your sister murmurs, her excitement palpable. "That's Aiden Hartley. He's a single dad, a widower, and practically the perfect gentleman."
You try to maintain your composure as Aiden approaches, but it's difficult not to stare. He's easily over six feet with a build that suggests he's no stranger to the gym. His short blonde hair catches the light, looking almost golden under the fluorescent glare of the school's overhead lighting. Even from a distance, you can see his eyes - a striking shade of green that reminds you of summer leaves.
As Aiden reaches your booth, a warm smile spreads across his face. Your heart skips a beat.
"Ladies," he greets you both, his voice deep and smooth. "I have to say, this spread looks absolutely incredible."
Your sister jumps in, "Oh, it's all thanks to my amazing sister here! Aiden, you haven’t met her yet, but she's the baking genius."
Aiden's gaze returns to you, a spark of interest in those mesmerizing green eyes. "Is that so? Well, I'm thoroughly impressed. I'm Carter’s dad, by the way, he’s in the same class as your niece." He extends his hand.
You introduce yourself, hoping your palm isn't too sweaty as you shake his hand. His grip is firm but gentle, and you can't help but notice how your hand seems to fit very nicely into his.
"So, what would you recommend?" Aiden asks, gesturing to the array of sweets.
“I’d like one of the cupcakes,” the last voice you’re expecting to hear interrupts from just behind you, and you whip around to find yourself face to face with Bucky, the man who has been regularly - if intermittently - wrecking you sexually.
What on earth is he doing here?
Not only is he here, he’s looking devastatingly handsome in a dark blue button-down and jeans. Your breath catches in your throat as memories of your late-night encounter flood your mind.
"One of the chocolate ones," Bucky drawls, his eyes roaming over the baked goods before settling on you with a heated gaze. "Is that a strawberry buttercream on top?"
“Mhmm,” you manage to nod, throat completely dry, brain trying to figure out how to function.
You’re not supposed to be seeing this man in the light of day - does not compute, does not compute.
"Looks like someone's been busy in the kitchen," he adds.
Your sister, oblivious to the tension crackling between you and Bucky, beams at him. "Yes! Isn't it amazing? My sister made everything here."
Bucky's lips curl into a smirk. "Is that so? You’re clearly skilled with your hands - the piping on this frosting is flawless,” he says, handing cash to your sister in exchange for one of the cupcakes.
He brings the treat to his nose, inhaling deeply, his eyes never leaving yours. "Smells divine," he murmurs, voice low enough that only you can hear. Then, with a wink that makes your knees weak, he turns and strides away, weaving through the crowd with the same effortless grace that brought him to your booth. His confident stride draws more than a few appreciative glances from the other parents.
Your sister nudges you with her elbow, breaking you out of your daze. "See, I told you you're too modest with your baking skills," she whispers excitedly. "Bucky Barnes is usually a man of few words, and he dropped plenty just now."
You nod absently, still reeling from Bucky's sudden appearance and the way he'd looked at you. Your mind races, trying to process the conflicting emotions swirling within you. On one hand, there's the familiar spark of desire that Bucky always ignites. On the other, there's a new, tentative flutter of interest as you glance back at Aiden, who's patiently waiting with a warm smile.
Your sister, ever the matchmaker, seamlessly steers the conversation back to Aiden. "So, Aiden, you were asking about recommendations?" She gives you a subtle but pointed look.
You clear your throat. "Right. Well, the raspberry-lemon bars are a personal favorite. They've got just the right balance of sweet and tart."
Aiden's eyes light up. "That sounds perfect. I'll take two, please." As your sister boxes up his order, he turns back to you. "So, do you bake professionally? These look like they could be in a high-end bakery."
You laugh, shaking your head. "Oh no, it's just a hobby. I work in marketing, actually."
"Well, you certainly have a talent for it," Aiden says, his smile warm and genuine. "I can’t wait to try these,” he adds, holding up his box.
As you're about to respond to Aiden's compliment, your sister suddenly gasps and slaps her forehead dramatically. "Oh no! I completely forgot!" She turns to you with an exaggerated look of distress. "The PTA was supposed to set up the face-painting station, but I just realized we left all the supplies in my car!"
You raise an eyebrow, sensing the poorly disguised matchmaking attempt, but play along. "Oh, that's not good. You'd better go take care of that."
Your sister nods vigorously, already backing away from the booth. "Absolutely! Can't have disappointed kids on Valentine's Day!" She pauses, then turns to Aiden with a look of calculated innocence. "Aiden, I hate to impose, but would you mind helping my sister man the booth until I get back? It shouldn't take more than fifteen or twenty minutes.”
Aiden’s eyes flash to you, gleaming with amusement, clearly recognizing your sister's ploy for what it is, but he plays along anyway. "Of course! I'd be more than happy to lend a hand... or take an order or two," he jokes, winking at you.
Your cheeks flush a with heat, but you’re not totally unhappy with her shenanigans.
Your sister rushes off and Aiden takes her place behind the table. As the two of you settle into a rhythm working the table, you can't help but feel a spark of connection. His easy smile and warm demeanor put you at ease, and soon you're chatting effortlessly about everything from your shared love of books to your favorite local restaurants.
"So, marketing, huh?" Aiden asks during a lull. "What kind of projects do you work on?"
You launch into a brief explanation of your latest campaign, surprised at how easily the conversation flows. Aiden listens attentively, asking insightful questions that show he's genuinely interested. His green eyes sparkle with intelligence, and you find yourself drawn in by his charm.
"That sounds fascinating," he says, leaning in slightly. "I'd love to hear more about it sometime. Maybe over coffee?"
Your heart flutters at the invitation, but before you can respond, your eyes are inexplicably drawn across the crowded gymnasium. Through the sea of parents and children, you spot Bucky leaning against the far wall.
He's standing slightly apart from the crowd, his presence both magnetic and aloof. The sleeves of his dark blue plaid shirt are rolled up to his elbows, revealing the corded muscles of his forearms. His hair, usually disheveled when you see him, is neatly combed back into a bun, accentuating the sharp angles of his jaw.
As if sensing your gaze, Bucky's eyes lock with yours from across the room. A slow, knowing smile spreads across his face as he brings the cupcake to his lips. You watch, transfixed, as he takes a deliberate bite, his eyes never leaving yours.
The chocolate cake yields easily, and a smear of pink frosting clings to his upper lip. Your mouth goes dry as you watch his tongue dart out, slowly and purposefully licking away the sweet confection.
The sight sends a jolt of electricity through your body, igniting a fire low in your belly. Memories of that same tongue exploring your most intimate places flood your mind. You can almost feel the ghost of it and press your legs together.
Suddenly aware that you've been staring, you snap your attention back to Aiden, who's looking at you expectantly. You realize he's still waiting for an answer about coffee.
"Oh, um, yes," you stammer, trying to regain your composure. "Coffee sounds great."
Aiden's face lights up with a warm smile. "Wonderful! How about this Saturday?"
You nod, pushing thoughts of Bucky to the back of your mind. "Saturday works for me."
As you exchange numbers with Aiden, you can't help but feel a mix of excitement and guilt. Excitement at the prospect of getting to know this kind, handsome man better. Guilt because you know that no matter how charming Aiden is, a part of you is still thinking about Bucky and the raw, primal energy between you.
About how he probably would have no problem dragging you away to his car and fucking you in the parking lot right now.
You think that’s something Aiden would never do .
The rest of the bake sale passes in good conversation with Aiden, chatting between customers and stealing glances at each other when you think the other isn't looking. You learn that he's an architect, specializing in sustainable design, and his passion for his work is evident in the way his eyes light up as he describes his latest project.
"It's a community center," he explains, his hands moving animatedly as he speaks. "We're incorporating solar panels, rainwater harvesting systems, and even a rooftop garden. The goal is to create a space that not only serves the community but also educates them about sustainable living."
You find yourself genuinely interested, asking questions about the design process and the challenges he faces. As you listen, you can't help but appreciate how different this interaction is from your usual encounters with Bucky. With Aiden, there's a warmth, a sense of connection that’s so natural.
But your gaze drifts regularly to Bucky. Bucky has become attached to a young boy who looks to be about six years old. The resemblance between them is striking – the same strong jawline, the same chestnut brown hair. They grin and laugh together, Bucky follows him around to the face painting, a craft station, poses with him in the photo booth.
All you have ever shared with Bucky is sex. The two of you had given next to no time to small talk even in the first few days of messaging on the hook up app and in your first meet up. You had both made it clear you used each other for sex and didn’t want anything else from the connection.
As the bake sale winds down, your sister finally returns, apologizing profusely for needing to cover the face painting instead of helping at the booth. She winks at you when Aiden isn't looking, clearly pleased with her efforts. Aiden continues to linger, helping to fold up the tablecloth and carry boxes.
This morning you were thoroughly single, no need or with to do much to be otherwise. But now you find yourself torn between two very different men. Aiden, with his warm smile and gentle demeanor, represents the possibility of a genuine connection, of building something meaningful. Your conversation flows easily, and you can't deny the flutter in your chest when he laughs at your jokes.
But then there's Bucky. Your attention drawn back to him over and over, watching as he had interacted with the young boy who must be his son. It's a side of him you've never seen before, and it stirs something unexpected within you. The tenderness in his eyes as he looks at his child is a stark contrast to the raw intensity you're used to seeing when he looks at you.
As you and Aiden start packing up the remaining baked goods, Bucky approaches your booth once more. This time, the little boy is with him, clinging to his hand and looking up at you with wide, curious eyes.
"Hey," Bucky says, his voice smooth and charming. "We wanted to grab a few more treats before you packed up." His eyes flick to Aiden, then back to you, a flash of something - possessiveness? jealousy? - passing over his face.
"Of course," you manage, brightening your voice as you direct your attention to the small boy. "What would you like?"
The little boy tugs on Bucky's hand, pointing at the heart-shaped cookies. "Can I have those, Daddy?"
Your heart does a little flip at hearing Bucky called 'Daddy'. It's such a stark contrast to the Bucky you know - the one who whispers filthy things in your ear as he pounds into you.
"Sure thing, buddy. How about we get a few to take home for later?" Bucky suggests, his voice gentle as he speaks to his son.
You can't help but smile at the interaction as you carefully package up a half dozen of the heart-shaped cookies. As you hand the box to Bucky, your fingers brush against his, sending a whoosh of butterflies through your stomach. His eyes lock with yours, dark and intense, before he glances meaningfully at Aiden.
"Thanks," Bucky says, his voice low. "These look delicious. I'm sure they taste even better than they look." The double meaning in his words is clear, and you feel a flush creeping up your neck.
"I hope you enjoy them," you manage to reply, your voice slightly breathless.
As Bucky turns to leave, his son looks up at you with a shy smile. "Thank you for the treats!”
"You're very welcome, young man," you reply, smiling warmly at the little boy. As they walk away, you can't help but watch Bucky's retreating form, admiring the way his shirt clings to his broad shoulders.
You and Aiden finish packing up the last of the baked goods, and he helps you carry the boxes to your car.
"So, about Saturday," he says as you close the trunk. "There's this great little café downtown that does this stuffed french toast that will send you to heaven. How does that sound?”
You smile at Aiden, genuinely excited about the prospect of getting to know him better. "That sounds wonderful," you reply. "I love a good french toast."
As you exchange details for your upcoming date, you can't help but feel a mix of anticipation and guilt. Aiden is everything you should want - kind, intelligent, and clearly interested in more than just a physical relationship. Yet, as you watch him walk away, your mind drifts back to Bucky.
Later that night, as you're getting ready for bed, your phone buzzes with a text. Your heart races as you see Bucky's name on the screen.
BUCKY: Those cookies were delicious. But not as sweet as your cunt.
You bite your lip, torn between responding and ignoring the message. Before you can decide, another text comes through.
BUCKY: I'm in the neighborhood. Have any of that frosting left?
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A Blessing From the Gods
Characters: Hela, Moon Knight, Scarlet Witch, Winter soldier
Prompt: “could you do Moon knight, Bucky and any other character of your choice with another avatar of a Greek gods?” - anon request
Author’s note: I tried to keep which God you are the avatar of vague so you can imagine whatever kinds of powers/backstory you’d like. Also I’m not sure if the requester wanted the HCs to be romantic or platonic but I think these can be read either way.
Warnings: None!
When Hela sees you for the first time she is immediately intrigued by your presence, for better or worse. She can tell that you are definitely no god yourself, yet she can sense that you have brushed with divinity frequently. She has had brief, and awkward, conversations with Moon Knight about his connection to Khonsu so she realizes that you must also be an avatar. But an avatar of which god? As much as Hela likes to pretend she’s all knowing and above childish emotions like curiosity, she can’t satiate her burning desire to know more until she finally talks to you for herself.
Hela approaches you with her usual confident smirk and a snide comment about how there appears to be “yet another mortal avatar running about”. As you share your first conversation Hela's face is stoic as she bluntly asks you her burning questions, but if you are observant enough you can see an amused look in her eye. Hela is pleasantly surprised, you are far more interesting to her than Khonsu’s little knight.
As Hela learns more about your relationship with your god she says she finds herself even more thankful for her dominion over death, preferring to rely on her legions of Hel to do her bidding over having some weak and fickle human. A lot of your conversations have this same energy lol. It sometimes feels like the goddess looks down on you, but it’s undeniable that she enjoys your presence simply because she keeps coming back to you.
A lot of the other heroes think that Hela has it out for you with how much she picks on you. It isn’t common for Hela to have good intentions for anybody outside of herself, not even her own brothers. But with all the time you’re starting to spend with the goddess of death, you’re able to pick up on the subtle tone of affection in her voice when she speaks to you. Even if her words are just as demeaning as what she would say to others.
If you have a more adversarial relationship with your God, Hela is always eager to listen to your complaints and she always takes your side on arguments. Hela doesn’t have many good relationships with the other gods but she likes you, so as far as she’s concerned you’re always right. Hela also loves stirring the pot between other gods, so sometimes she’ll give you less violent ways to get back at your god. For example, she’ll tell you stories of something embarrassing that happened to your god centuries ago and then tell you to bring it up to your god whenever they start to bother you.
To be completely honest, the Moon Knight system doesn’t pay you much mind when you first join the fight for the multiverse. The Fist of Khonshu is here to carry out his god’s will so his senses are focused on the mission at hand, not necessarily the people around him. Marc knows you’re there as he’s cautiously aware of all the people around him, but it’s the old bird who brings his attention to you. Khonshu, with his knowledge of the other gods and their avatars, recognizes you and then proceeds to yap about your god in Marc’s head for 5 minutes straight.
How your first interaction with Moon Knight goes depends a lot on what Khonshu has to say about your god. If he speaks positively about your god then Marc is definitely curious about what kind of a person you are. Khonshu historically hasn’t played well with the other gods, so Marc can’t help but wonder what kind of deity you’re wrapped up with if Khonshu can get along with them. If Khonshu doesn’t like your god then Marc may be pressured by Khonshu to confront you in an attempt to settle some 2,000 year old beef between gods. I’ll pray for you if that’s the case
But whether your first encounter is out of Marc’s own curiosity or because of Khonshu’s petty drama, as the two of you inevitably talk Moon Knight feels a small connection starting to grow with you. Marc’s connection to Khonshu has always seemingly alienated him from the other heroes who think he’s plain crazy, but as a fellow avatar you’re both able to share some of your experiences with each other. Whether your relationship with your own god is as turbulent as Marc’s or not, Marc feels a slight weight lifted off his shoulders as he’s able to speak with someone who can truly understand the pressure of constantly being beneath a god’s gaze.
Marc doesn’t let many people into his life, but when people do get close to him the entire Moon Knight system becomes very protective over them. So if you have a bad relationship with your god, or really anything in your life starts to go south, Moon Knight’s first instinct is to seek out some sort of revenge for you. However it’s obviously not possible for him to go against a whole god on your behalf and that fact is really frustrating for Moon Knight. Be careful what you complain about around Moon Knight, he will throw hands for you at a moment's notice lol.
Wanda is unfortunately another one who doesn’t pay too much attention to the people around her, so she might not acknowledge you at first. She’s worried about preserving the very fabric that holds her reality together, so you’re gonna have to do something kind of eye-catching to initially get her attention lol.
As one of the most powerful magic wielding beings and the Sorceress Supreme of her universe, one thing that will definitely make her interested in you is any magical abilities your god may have bestowed upon you. While Wanda is concentrating on controlling her own chaos magic on the battlefield, her mind is still able to recognize a kind of magic she has never seen before. Cue her now being mildly distracted as she low key tries to watch you and fight the enemy team at the same time.
Instantly Wanda has a need to know everything about your abilities, and as soon as the battle is over she’s trying to speak to you. What kind of magic do you wield? How did you get these powers? Are you just a beginner at magic or can you show her some of your advanced spells? Honestly it might kind of feel like when you tell someone you have a skill, like drawing or speaking another language, and someone just immediately puts you on the spot and asks you to do it for them. It’s especially intimidating if you know that she’s the Sorceress Supreme of her universe, like how are you supposed to impress her lol? But don’t worry Wanda means well, she’s just very blunt and is curious about the different kinds of magic people have access to in these new universes <3
Wanda isn’t known for being very social, but whenever there is down time in between missions you two tend to seek each other out now. Whether it’s a conversation about your personal lives over some lunch, or the both of you focusing on honing your magic in complete silence, Wanda is so used to your presence that it starts to feel strange when you’re not around. In her universe she’s constantly holding reality together, constantly fighting off magical threats, constantly trying to gain more control over her powers. But here with you Wanda greatly enjoys feeling more like a ‘normal’ person.
You know, if you’re having a problem with your god you’ve now got a whole Sorceress Supreme on your side, and Wanda isn’t afraid of talking back to gods and higher beings. In her timeline she is constantly trying to stop power hungry gods from collapsing her universe, so if you need someone to just casually intimidate your god into being a bit kinder to you, Wanda has more than enough experience to get the job done. She will ask to speak to the manager for you.
Everything that’s happened in the first few weeks of the time stream entanglement has become a blur for Bucky. Suddenly he’s in another dimension with a new (and tentacle-y?) metal arm and he’s fighting alongside other heroes from different dimensions for the fate of the universe. Alright, cool. This is fine. Before all of this mess started, meeting you and being told that you’re an avatar of a Greek god could have shocked Bucky, but now that fact somehow seems like the most normal thing he’s been told in his life.
As you, Bucky, and the rest of your team head out on your mission Bucky has heard a little bit about your background from Steve, who gave him a brief on all of their strange new teammates. As you clash with the heroes on the other side of the fight Bucky finds his normally focused senses drifting to you. Divine powers tend to be pretty flashy, and a trained soldier like Bucky can immediately see how skilled you are at what you do. As Bucky gets caught off guard by a diving Psylocke, the flash of your abilities is a welcome sight as you help him fend her off. Your reward for helping Bucky? A gruff “Thanks”, before he hones in on another enemy. Isn’t he dreamy <3
After that fight you’ll most likely have to approach Bucky first. Bucky knows he should probably give you a proper thank you for your help, but unfortunately Hydra brainwashing will do a number on your social skills. When you check in on Bucky after the fight is over, you’ll find that he’s slightly more talkative than usual - really just towards you, Steve, or Clint though. He has a lot of questions he'd like to ask you, he’s not as familiar with all these gods and aliens as some of the other heroes are, but he also doesn’t want to accidentally offend you. Bucky knows that he certainly doesn’t have a happy or inspiring story behind how he got his powers, so he doesn’t want to accidentally be too invasive.
As the two of you grow closer you notice that Bucky tends to stick by your side a lot, both in and out of combat. In combat, Bucky sticks by your side as he knows that he can rely on you if things get rough. He also wants to be there in case he needs to return the favor and help get a diver off of your back. But when you both are just relaxing in between missions, Bucky finds comfort in your presence. Consciously or subconsciously, Bucky knows that you’re a person he can let his guard down around, which isn't a very common experience for him. With everything that he’s been through in life, the fact that the former Winter Soldier trusts you means a lot.
Bucky really empathizes with you if you have a bad relationship with the god you serve. He has a lot of experience with being used as a living weapon, being treated like your only worth is what you can do for the person giving you your orders. He can’t stand to see another person live that way, especially not when it’s you. Bucky knows that he can’t go up against a god, and he knows enough about these kinds of power dynamics to understand that trying to stand up for you might actually make your situation worse. So Bucky commits himself to supporting you in whatever way you ask him to.
#marvel rivals#x reader#marvel rivals x reader#hela x reader#moon knight x reader#scarlet witch x reader#wanda maximoff x reader#winter soldier x reader#bucky barnes x reader#loomis writes sometimes#LWS hela#LWS moon knight#LWS scarlet witch#LWS winter soldier
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Daisuke and Jimmy’s relationship is so interesting and I don’t see it get talked about nearly as much as some of the other characters. I also see it get misinterpreted quite often.
Jimmy is not outwardly antagonistic towards Daisuke. The only time he gets close to this is during the birthday party. And remember, he lashes out at everyone during this scene. If anything, what he says about Daisuke is pretty tame in comparison to the things he says about Curly or Anya.
His rapport with Daisuke is always somewhat friendly. He has a nice conversation with him right at the beginning of the game, 2 months after the crash, where they joke amongst themselves. Jimmy tells Daisuke to not let Swansea get to him. Keep this in mind for later.
When Daisuke gets drunk off the mouthwash, he tells Jimmy about insecurities that he has presumably not told anyone else. We can say that he’s only telling Jimmy this because he’s intoxicated, but I think it speaks to the relationship the two have.
One thing to note about Daisuke is that he trusts Jimmy, and after the crash he’s basically the only one to do so. Swansea is plastered 24/7 and very clearly doesn’t respect him, and Anya. I don’t even have to explain that one.
But Daisuke still remains by his side, and Jimmy takes full advantage of this.
Let’s check back on that line I mentioned earlier, where Jimmy tells Daisuke to not let Swansea get to him. Jimmy wants Daisuke to think higher of him than Swansea, and presents himself as a kinder individual who Daisuke can trust. It’s a small line but it speaks volumes about their relationship.
We’re skipping forward to after Daisuke’s death (don’t worry, we’ll talk about it). Daisuke and imagery surrounding him appears the most out of any of the crew, mayyybe second to Curly. We see his personal items, his grave repeated over and over in a graveyard, we see him run away from the camera, his face appears when you try to turn around, his body is in a coffin, we crawl through the vent and we see the axe buried in the side of the wall around it.
And it’s because Jimmy feels the most guilt about how Daisuke died. Because it’s entirely his fault and he recognizes it. These hallucinations are purely guilt speaking.
Jimmy knew, on some level, what he was doing.
He knew that he was manipulating Daisuke, though I do think he still liked him at least a little. He knows that this death is entirely on his hands.
Ok, let’s jump back to before Daisuke dies (we’re skipping around like the game now!). This is where that manipulation idea comes into play.
Jimmy doesn’t tell Daisuke what’s going on. Jimmy knows that Anya has locked herself into medical and is going to kill herself. But when Daisuke asks what’s happening (by the way, he asks Anya this question) Jimmy cuts in and immediately brings up Curly. He makes it seem like Anya is going to do something malicious towards Curly and there’s no time and she can’t be convinced and they have to go go go.
And we see why he does this. Daisuke, throughout the sequence where you roofie Swansea, keeps repeating that they should just talk to him. But if they just talk to Swansea and Anya, then Daisuke will find out about the fact that Jimmy raped her. Jimmy can’t have this because, as I said earlier, Daisuke is the only one left who still completely trusts Jimmy. So he has to keep that information from him.
(I want to make a seperate post where I talk about why Anya also kept this information from Daisuke, so i'm leaving this point here).
Finally, let’s talk about the thing Jimmy says right before Daisuke enters the vent. I think that this is the most telling exchange when it comes to their relationship (take a shot every time I say their relationship and you too can pass out in front of utility).
Daisuke is nervous, for obvious reasons. And Jimmy, the figure who has been supportive (“don’t let Swansea get to you”) and friendly, turns around and uses the insecurities that Daisuke brought up previously to coax him into the vent.
When Daisuke is drunk, he tells Jimmy that he believes he’s not good at anything. And right before the vent, Swansea tells him he’s not a good mechanic either. This clearly upsets Daisuke on some level based on his reaction.
This is just a precursor to what Swansea says right before Daisuke dies, but Daisuke doesn’t know that. It’s a topic for another ramble.
Jimmy was present for all of this, and tells Daisuke that he’ll make everyone proud, he tells him everyone is counting on him. He’s using these insecurities to get Daisuke to do something insanely dangerous.
And I think, based on how often Daisuke appears in his hallucinations, Jimmy knew what he was doing. He knew he was being manipulative.
When Daisuke is bleeding out, Jimmy realizes how badly he fucked up. He’s panicked and trying in vain to comfort him, but internally he knows this is entirely his fault.
I see a lot of fan content where Jimmy is outright mean to Daisuke, and that’s just not really how they are portrayed in the game. Jimmy mistreats him, but he doesn’t do it in an incredibly obvious way. And that’s just good storytelling baby.
All this to say that Daisuke and Jimmy are genuinely fascinating and I wish this relationship got explored more by the fandom. There’s so much going on there!
#mouthwashing#jimmy mouthwashing#daisuke mouthwashing#anya mouthwashing#im tagging Anya even though she’s just mentioned#swansea mouthwashing#I need to ramble more
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If you wouldn't mind, I'd appreciate a letter from Illario to Lucanis that is basically him wondering how the hell his awkward cousin managed to attract a hottie like Rook De Riva. (Bonus points for it being my Rook, Adava. I've posted a couple screenshot archives of her.) Thank you very much! This is such a wonderful and fun thing you're doing for the community!
Ding Dong. Another special delivery from the Antivan Postal Service.
We all know Illario is a yapper... this may be the reason why this letter is so crazy long. It's a bit more than just the one requested topic, I hope you don't mind, but I felt, that even Illario would not just kick down the door and starts asking awkward questions about his cousin's love-life. I honestly can't figure, how Lucanis would even answer this letter... Anyway, enjoy!
Transcript:
Cousin, I hope you don’t mind me, bothering you. I know the new First Talon is still saving the world and has probably not the time and even less patience to read from a despicable criminal anyway. Even (or rather because) said criminal is your blood and the closest thing to family you’ll ever have. Beside of course our dear Caterina, who naturally sends her regards (because this way she’s excused to write a letter to you herself. Which of course she would never confirm, and I would NEVER even think. Huh, who wrote that?)
I spend my time doing paperwork for the Diamond recently, since Viago could not be bothered to supervise me all day and night (which I don’t take offensive, I would not want to be my watchdog, either.) Of course no one gives me a contract anymore, maybe there are some with my name on it, but I fear, you’ll find that name in an unfamiliar spot there. No wonder, Viago is paranoid, that something might get out of hand. Which would make him fail his first ever contract from the new First Talon by losing his ward (that would be me).
Not that I wish for this to happen, but then, what is life without the roofs of Treviso in the moonlight, its markets and cafés. The canals and gondolas and the beautiful people in the streets. While I am stuck in the belly of the Diamond. Copying inventory lists.
Anyway, how’s your days? And I mean the parts we don’t get to read in the gazettes or war reports. Allow me to live a little through your new life. I want to know about hat Lighthouse you’re residing in. Living in the Fade is such a weird concept on its own – but being there stuck with a bunch of non-Antivans who are each so different and unique, but you’re still all on the same contract - that sounds like an interesting experience. And they are all so stunningly beautiful and exciting personalities.
Speaking of exciting: Send my kindest regards to that divine but harsh Tevinter detective if you don’t mind, my brother. I’d be very intrigued to get to know other Tevinter people. For a wider perspective, maybe if you want to call it that?
And no, I’m not trying to make a joke here. Or try to push a shady agenda. I just feel that my choices of people from the Imperium was not the… most educated one.
You know what? Never mind, you shouldn’t have to bother with such silly requests and why I feel to ask them from you.
Better we hold onto our words about the things past until we can exchange them in person.
But, you are aware that I simply could have made up a story to make you introduce me to her, right? Or, even better, I just could have written to your Tevinter friend right away, instead of asking you to give my regards…
Speaking of friends. Must be all new and awkward for you, cousin. I can’t remember you having any close acquaintances ever, at all, when we grew up. I would never have thought, you’d have that in you.
Of course now, this all new YOU will not have any more use for your poor cousin - who’s fallen from grace, to do all the nasty ice breaking and socializing for you. And we were such a successful double like that.
Remember that wigmaker job? Vyranthium, I guess. It got you your, moniker, right? Demon of Vyranthium. Just like a creepy foreshadowing, don’t you think? Anyway, what was I talking about? Ah!
You did all the bloody work back then, I happily give you that, but without me? Way more complicated it would have been, I dare say. And even more dangerous as it was already.
Cousin, just think about it. We could rule Antiva together. Or just retire and be the rulers of our own court, whereever that may be - and do what ever we please.
Or did you eventually make peace with being the one in charge? First Talon! So much responsibility. And so large boots to fill.
May Caterina continue to live and rule on for many many more years to come. So you don’t have to step up entirely. Letting her continue to draw strings in the shadows, while you being the representative and handsome young face of the Antivan Crows. That was a clever move from the old girl. Or was it yours? Either way. She could have all that with less drama and an even prettier face, far more willing, to put up with her and her attics. But, well, here we are.
Sorry, I fell back into ramblings about things again, that should be topic for us talking in person. Forgive me. How did I get there in the first place… I have no idea. Maybe this gives you a hint, of just HOW boring the paperwork is, I get to do here. I start yapping. In a letter.
Before I end this pointless lament, cousin, brother! I want to congratulate you. Honestly. Of course, only if it's true, what’s going round within the Diamond and probably the salons of Treviso’s nobility, too. That the new First Talon, known to be the chastest of all Crows, finally decided to seriously court someone. And not only that. It’s even reciprocated this time, as we hear.
A strategic bond with the House of the 5th Talon? I hear that not few people are taking it this way.
But I know you better, cousin. You’d never engage into such an endeavor, when it’s not playing out like in your silly romance novels. (Yes, of course I know what you always hid between your textbooks and under the mattress. Kitsch!) But well, to each their own, I guess. You the books and me the real experience. But you seem to finally getting there, as it seems. Tell me everything, brother! I’ve witnessed you yapping about coffee and kisses goodbye and smarmy stuff like that. You were really into that de Riva girl, right from the start. There goes my last hope, that Adava had, or would ever discover, a soft spot for me behind her wall of professionalism and all business. Just joking, of course, I’m happy for you both. I mean it.
Just don’t let your heart and your… midsection get into the way of a contract. Which in your case would very much unfortunate for all of Thedas. But who am I to give you advice of matters of the heart… (or the midsection) My latest choices weren’t the smartest, either.
Before I end up filling a journal here, I’ll end now. If you want, write me back, I really want to hear about your life and could use any distraction. We’re family, after all. - Illario
Find the other letters here
#Illario Dellamorte#Lucanis Dellamorte#datv#dragon age the veilguard#the Dellamortes#rook de riva#Antivan Crows#crows my beloved#Antivan Postal Service#Letters from the crows#letters for the crows#letterbox game
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am i watching the winter embrace on repeat and staring at joels hand so gently on her cheek as she looks up at him in such an unbelieving manner because he shouldn’t be there because he’s half dead in that basement except he is there and he’s holding her and his touch is soft and comforting and protective and gentle and it brings her back to the present and helps her realize that she’s safe now because he’s here bur also that he is alive and here with her and she doesn’t have to worry about her worst fear coming true anymore because she can feel his hand on her cheek and his arms wrapped around her and hear the sound of his voice and see the alive look in his eyes? yeah.
#the way he just.#the way his hand just fits there.#she fights against him and he lowers them down and his right hand rests on her cheek and it’s just#it’s pieces to a puzzle#and she stares at him#never blinking#not once#and she can’t even speak because so much has happened#and she just hugs him and he finally gets to hold her#gets to hold her for all the missing times during the last few weeks he desperately wanted to#and she needs it. she initiates it#because it’s Joel and he’s her safe place and#despite never having hugged prior to this#she knows he’ll hold her.#and he does. fuck he does.#and she infuriates it and he holds her and smoothes her hair down and calls her baby girl and stands them both up and whispers reassurances#that he’s got her and that she’s okay now because he’s there and she’s with him#and they’re finally back together and alive#which is the most important thing.#please shut me up I have to stop it’s eating away at my bone marrow please.#the last of us hbo#joel miller#ellie williams
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Reading the webtoon and…
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/7821f1d6eb5701800bbef5d4dbd56508/2c7b24fe75d0b9dc-bd/s540x810/524b76bf78a4063a7ac481a163e70ae6bcec6eff.jpg)
Does this imply that Kim Dokja also tried to write a questionnaire for her to fill in since she wouldn’t speak to him, that either he 1) never gave her in the end (especially if he couldn’t find her after she was released) or 2) gave it to her and she STILL refused to answer?
Because that is so so so so awful. It was already bad but if he tried so many ways to get her to speak and she still gave him no response, regardless of her reasoning… isn’t that still directly choosing to cut herself fully out of his life? Why in the hell did she lie for his sake and allow him to visit her if she wanted to never speak to him again?
I know everyone claims Kim Dokja is just like her in sacrificing himself for loved ones, but at least he tries his best to stay with them and to keep them in his life. He still chooses sacrifice, but it’s not because he intends to never return. He always returns (even if much later than planned).
The only time this differs is with 51%, when he STILL tried his best to stay with them - at least as much as he could.
I sometimes like Lee Sookyung, but I am mostly still SO mad at her for completely ignoring her child since he was 8 years old. Especially when he must have looked like shit any number of times from being mistreated and bullied by family, friends, army, employers.
But maybe that’s just the fragment in me being eternally pissed with her. She DOES love him, but like he says in the webtoon in this chapter - maybe such truths are painful enough to be false anyways, because they’re just SUCH bullshit. That’s not how affection should work, if you actually care about someone and want them to be happy.
#RAWWRGHHH I WANT TO SHAKE HER SO MUCH#LOOK AFTER YOUR KID#and if you can’t do that because of circumstances at least ACKNOWLEDGE HIM#yes I do know she cared and it’s just that she mistakenly believes he’s better off this way without her but like#then WHY does she still insert herself back into his life when he’s finally stopped trying to get her to speak?#yes yes others have great analyses on her and their relationship and I usually agree with their logic but it’s still. So. Hard. to like her#but then I remember that this story was the little Dream’s wishful thinking to cope back then on his own#and so maybe in his world Lee Sookyung never ever would speak to him again#he just wished she would so he wrote it down as happening for This older version of him#and that’s somehow worse because like#even in the story where he got her to speak to him again she still won’t speak so he has to force the words out some way (via outer god)#and if that’s true then it’s still just his interpretation of her actions and choices#and not her own since she never told him#so like ARGGHHH#but I like to believe that characters have autonomy despite their respective author’s efforts in documenting them#so she still chose to speak all of this too and he would have accurately interpreted her this way because she controls what she says#even if he (little Dream Kim Dokja) is the one writing it down as wish fulfilment fix-it fic#a fix-it for himself and not just for the other people he loves#😭😭😭#orv#orv spoilers#omniscient reader’s viewpoint#lee sookyung#kim dokja
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there’s a progression in there, somewhere, of even going from ‘the master might kill me any day now :(‘ to ‘the master is going to kill me :) she’s not going to let someone else do it after all this time’
#i wouldn’t call it hubris exactly. more like this pretty secure surity that that’s how they’re going to die.#and to them that makes sense. they chose this. they keep choosing it after the doctor offers them a way out.#because this is. they understand this. and they feel safe in the reprieve before their death.#how do you control death? choose who kills you. the last defense of a prey animal.#something something dark mirror to clara’s ‘i am owed’ speech for even is if this ever. doesn’t work out the way they thought it would.#clara tried to threaten the doctor so that he’d reverse death for her. even would turn on the master if she tried to spare them.#i am owed better. i am owed the death you promised… i am owed the knowledge that you don’t care enough to save me… you know. something like#that.#even is. kind of. meant to mirror the doctor’s companions at the time. they are a martha who can’t leave him. they are a donna who has to#remember and never speak about everything they know. they are clara if during deep breath clara reached back and truly didn’t expect. truly#hoped. that no one would take her hand. because if they can be certain it will happen they can know never to reach again.#jesus christ. go to therapy boy. you have so many trust issues.#but that’s why they’re Like That with the master because at the end of the day. who is easier to rely on? the guy who comes in to put out#fires but only sometimes. or the guy who. really really fucking likes starting fires.#better to get burned hoping someone is coming or get burned knowing that’s what would happen. and even. chooses the latter.#AND ALL OF THIS. for me to say thats why i cant actually let the master ever kill them.#i think she needs to do something worse to even. i think she needs to abandon them.#and that will either set them free to go have healthy normal relationships or. lets be honest much more likely. completely fucking break#them. which would be fun :) for me.#dw oc
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Wine stains on porcelain
(Alternatively: @katkastrofa and I have created 5 OCs in 3 days and I suffer from chronic “I wanna draw the little guysssssss” disease)
#my art#artists on tumblr#the legend of korra#original characters#I have not figured out a tag system yet so for now this is all they’re getting#their names are liba and abyan and I’m very much obsessed :)#they’re the children of two of our other newest OCs. Himman and Summiya#the latter of whom just happens to be Zaheer’s older sister#but he ran away from home years before these two were born so he most likely isn’t even aware of their existence#I mean. I’m sure he suspects his sisters had children. but that’s the extent of what he knows#anyway#quite a few headcanons came to mind as I was drawing so I’m gonna type them out while I can still function#(haven’t slept for two nights in a row. I’m starting to doubt whether I’m actually alive or not)#Liba is older by about a year but once they grow up a little it’s barely noticeable and people assume they’re twins#over time they stop bothering to correct them because really. they’re so close they might as well be#they were both burn with port wine stain birthmarks on their faces. much to their mother’s dismay#she has a whole perfectionism complex and needed her children to reflect that to maintain the family image#thus they were taught how to hide the marks early on. but the powder makes them constantly sneeze#liba is very self conscious about it bc of what her mother put in her head. Abyan less so bc while he’s expected to be perfect#his future doesn’t depend on his looks. he always tries to comfort his sister whenever she spirals too deep. no matter that she’s older#when no one is around to hear he calls her Lili <3 it annoyed her at first so she dubbed him Yanyan in retaliation#but over time they both grew to love the nicknames and now use them unironically#they’re the ultimate partners in crime. their goal? gaining as much freedom from their mother as possible#and sooner or later they will manage to do so permanently. which will make Summiya fall apart. but that is currently Kat’s domain#speaking of. hi Kat. I know you’ve already seen this in pencil but look! I coloured them!!#the birthmarks were both kinda annoying and rather fun to do. maybe I’ll change them later. I was too tired to look at refs so I improvised#and there’s no detail in clothing since again. 0 energy whatsoever. but once I refine their full body designs I shall go all out#that reminds me I need to go collect my new sketchbook. might do it on the way home from the store#okay I’m getting distracted. is this my very unsubtle way of trying to influence Kat to write that Summiya fic?#maybe. maybe not. you can’t prove anything 😁
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~ ~ ~
#woke up sad today so that’s fucking great#I know it’s a dumb thing too but it always bothers me so much when someone who supposedly likes me can barely even speak to me#I know we’re all busy and they got family stuff and whatever else but like how hard is it to send a message real quick before you go to bed?#how hard is it to check your phone even once throughout the day? you really don’t have five minutes to say hey?#and this always happens no matter who it is whether it’s just a friend or someone who likes me or I like them or we’re together#everyone is always better friends with and closer to everyone else in their lives and I just get outcasted again and again#when is that going to change? when is someone going to like me and want to talk to me and spend time with me just for me?#when am I going to find someone who has my same energy about relationships/friendships?#what’s so wrong with me that I have to be alone all the time and can’t find anyone who wants to keep up with me on a regular basis?#and my therapist would say that nobody owes me anything and I guess that’s true but then what’s the fucking point of it all?#if I killed myself it wouldn’t matter because I’m no one’s first choice anyway and to most I’d be a faded memory within a week#but I can’t even do that because I have to take care of my dad and my dog and there’s too many responsibilities on me#the only way I’m important is by holding up this shitty household and I hate that#how pathetic that the only one who wants to be around me most of the time is my dad and that’s because he relies on me for everything#but after all the trauma and how much of an asshole my dad can be I don’t really want him to be the only one in my life I can hang out with#and I can’t even really hang out with him or talk to him because he just wants to sit around and watch tv and can’t really go anywhere and#doesn’t really listen when I talk because most often he doesn’t want to hear what I have to say#so it’s just me and my doggie and I love her very much but she isn’t a person and so it isn’t the same. I guess at least my dog does choose#me though so that’s something huh#and I know I haven’t processed a lot with my recent breakup and bullshit at work and other things but geez I don’t want to wake up suicidal#I’m tired of wanting to kill myself or wishing I was dead half the time#May as well just fucking do it already if that’s gonna be the case anyway. maybe when dad is more self sufficient I can get it over with#another bad morning and I just want everything to go away and let me have some peace for once#I just want to be gone#personal
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I'll look After You
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/de979a4d7c3e4c2edaf3aa5cccc6d52c/c7535557562da090-27/s540x810/1823c149dc7c6b9196ed3790980414742bda1791.jpg)
Pairings: Satoru Gojo x fem reader (reader is a mom)
Summary: You longed to hear from Satoru, After an epic night hooking up in a club bathroom, sure you'd been strangers, but he has your number, he made you feel so special... but... he never contacts you again. Ten months later, you have a beautiful baby named Reign, with those exact blue eyes. You never saw him again, couldn't even find him, so now, you are living your life as a single mom. Messy bun, dark circles, exhausted, you run into Satoru one day, and he sees her, his baby girl, and sees you struggling, he knows then, you're what's been missing in his life.
CW: MDNI- Sweet and emotional story, SO MUCH fluff here, Satoru is a freaking doll, misunderstanding led to him not knowing (nothing is kept from anyone on purpose) Fluffy long oneshot, watch Satoru fall in love with reader and his lil girl. Gojo being a dad and being cute! Explicit smut at the end- warnings- breed kink (it's me???) oral (f receiving) dirty talk, possessive Satoru (When isn't he?) Also some flashbacks to the original bathroom hookup (fingering, dirty talk etc) Sexual tension, 10.6k WC <3
Here is the full oneshot! Comments and reblogs SO appreciated if you enjoy <3
You often wondered about him, Satoru was his name.
As you look down at your baby girl, with her brilliant blue eyes while she’s cooing happily, giving you a gummy little grin, you wonder what he’d think if he knew about her. The random guy at the bar you gave your number to after hooking up in a bathroom, the guy who never called, the guy with no social media of which to speak. The guy you never, ever saw again.
Your baby’s father, the best thing that ever happened to you, surely, but also it was very difficult, being a single mom, you’d have to go back to work soon which you were dreading, spending sleepless nights up feeding, changing her. It had been a rough pregnancy, and a shocking one at that, people had questioned you over and over, some mentioned not having her.
But something in you knew you could do this, you could have this baby, you’re broke as fuck but she has all she needs, and she makes you so happy, but those eyes are unmistakable. No one has eyes like that, except her and her… well was he her dad? You wonder if he’d run ten million miles from you if he knew, or would he have been okay with it?
It’s odd that just a night of fun, alcohol and being on antibiotics created this amazing little girl, but you can’t be upset, not when she brightens your world. But you still ache at times, for her to have a dad, you hope you’re enough. You wonder about him though, the bright energetic man, the one that had made you feel more in one evening than anyone ever.
The last man you’d been with.
Yes, it’s been that long, Reign was two months old, so you’re damn near a year, you say it’s because you’re so busy, but something deep in you knows that you felt something for him, deeper than the obvious physical. Something about how he looked at you, at how he laughed, at how he made you feel so special.
You assume it must have been some act, clearly, here you are, alone after all. You both only knew each other’s first names, it’s true, but he had that number. Maybe it wasn’t all you thought it was? Maybe he just was that sort of guy, the one that made women think they’re his everything with one of his kisses, maybe you were just too drunk, and he was too pretty.
You blink a bit, shaking the haze thoughts of him as you yawn a bit, exhausted from Reign keeping you up all night, her tummy had been hurting. You’re sleepily putting things in the cart, baby items, groceries, the essentials, you catch sight of yourself in the mirror above the produce, wincing then. You have a messy bun and are in pajamas, god help you if you ever wanted to meet a guy.
‘Oh hi, I have a baby with a random blue eyed dude from a bar, I’m broke as fuck, and I wear pajamas to the store. Wanna date?’
Yeah. That would go over well.
“It’s… it’s… you!?” You sleepily look up then, so exhausted you barely register the six foot three man for a moment, then suddenly it all hits.
He stares at you, those blue eyes, the eyes your baby has, wide now, his pouty pink lips dropped open. He’s just as gorgeous as you remember him, like it’s some dream, you feel weak then, chest rising and falling as your breaths come too quickly. He steps closer to you then, he hasn’t seen her yet, nestled in her little car seat on the cart, you’re panicking.
“Do you even remember me? Oh my god, that night my phone broke, and I had just got it, they couldn’t transfer the numbers! And I tried to look you up? But I couldn’t find you… and I never saw you… and then- fuck I’m rambling.” He laughs nervously, swiping his hand through his snowy locks. “Forgive me, please… what I mean to say is… Hi?”
“Hi…” Your baby whines then, and Satoru pauses, blinking and you move to the side then, he steps closer when Reign opens her eyes, grinning at him.
Satoru’s heart pounds in his chest, his entire world tilts on its axis, he was already so thrown off by seeing you again, the girl he hasn’t been able to stop thinking of, but now… he looks at you in shock, you look exhausted, but so beautiful, your eyes tear up then, he watches your shoulders slump, then he looks back at the baby, realization sinking in.
“She’s… is she… there’s no way…”
“She’s yours, I only hooked up with you for the past… year.” You manage to say softly, right in the middle of the fruit aisle, Satoru was finding out you have his baby.
“You did this alone?” He says then, blinking back emotions for a girl he barely knew, but who now has a part of him, a part he wants to know so badly suddenly, shocking him.
“I had no clue who you were, how to tell you, even if so, it’s not your responsibility okay? I take care of her just fine, I make it work.” Satoru’s heart breaks then, seeing how tired you are, seeing the endless baby items and cheap toilet paper, a cheap bottle of wine, is that all you get yourself?
You did this alone, you have his baby alone, altering your life while he’s living his just the same, partying with his best friends, working and living a luxurious life. Satoru was rich, and it’s clear his baby and his baby’s mother are struggling, and he’s here doing what? Could he have tried harder to find you!? Could he…
“We’re okay, you don’t have to worry. I’d never come for you for anything, I am happy being her mommy.” You say with a tired smile, reaching to touch her little chubby cheek, and Satoru has never seen anything so beautiful, the two of you.
He’s felt so empty for this year, is this what he was missing?
“Can I… please… Can I know her?” He asks, gulping now, and you blink in shock, nodding quickly.
“I would love that.” You can’t stop your tears then, sniffling and shaking your head. “Please, let’s talk out of a produce aisle?” You whisper, he nods quickly, unable to take his eyes off you, off his baby.
After paying for your groceries, which you protest to, he’s out by your car now, a little minivan that makes him smile, picturing you as some pretty soccer mom already. You take her out of the car seat then, holding her carefully, smiling up nervously at Satoru. His chest swells at seeing you hold her, some instinct takes over, he instantly knows then.
He needs to take care of you both.
“I thought you’d freak out if you knew, be upset or want nothing to do with…”
“God no, no. I mean I don’t know what to think, but… she’s beautiful. Like her mom.” His words make you flush.
“I’m a wreck, Satoru, look at me.”
“You just need some help, doing it all alone?”
“You don’t have to, okay? I can do it.”
He brushes a tendril back off your temple, sighing as he looks at you, at those dark circles that just make you more beautiful, but show the fragility you’re keeping under wraps as best as you can. “I want to help, this is on me too.”
“It’s not, I was on the pill but… antibiotics.” You grumble, holding the baby to your chest now, she is sucking on her little binkie, bright pink. “It’s all on me, I’d love you to be in her life, but don’t feel obligated to pay for anything.”
“You’re stubborn, will she be too?” He narrows his eyes, and you giggle then, the first time in a long time you’ve heard that sound.
“She’s already stubborn, she gave me a hard time, wouldn’t come out.” She wriggles then, and you step a little closer to Satoru. “Wanna hold her?”
“Can you… tell me how to?” He asks, and you smile at him, for a tall, buff man he’s so sweet and precious, nervous even.
“Yes, hold your arms like this.” He does as you ask, holding his arms out, as you gently place Reign in his arms. “Hold her head just so. There you go, hey Reign, this is your dad.”
“Reign?” He asks, in shock as he looks into her eyes, his eyes, but she has your nose, your hair. His lips. She’s… “Perfect.”
“Isn’t she? Is it okay if I call you her dad?”
“It’s… perfect.” He says again, smiling at you, tears making his snowy lashes spike just so, you feel so complete then somehow. You can’t explain it, seeing this melts you, and Reign is so happy she's cooing, sucking on her binky and staring at him, you watch him melt right with you. “HI there, dumpling.”
“Dumpling? She's got a nickname huh.” He grins so big, nodding.
“I moved out of the city for the past year but I just came back to town. How far are you?”
“Oh like ten minutes. Would you… like to come over tomorrow? I'd say today but my place is a wreck.”
“I'd love to. Can I get her something please?”
“You don't have to… but she can always use binkies she throws these things. Ugh, see?” Reign spits out her binky and Satoru snorts as you catch it. She then touches his cheek, and he chokes up.
“I… oh my god. I love her?” He whispers in wonder, and you exhale, blinking tears that refuse to stop falling. “Is that crazy?”
“No. I loved her when I first saw her too. Fuck I'm a wreck “
“Hey…” He steps closer, handing you her carefully and then placing his big hands on your shoulders. “I am here now for both of you, however you'll let me be. Shh.” He brushes your back, resting his head on yours as you hold her close.
“I never thought I'd see you, tell you. I'm overwhelmed. I'm sorry.”
“Yeah me too.”
Of course he is, fuck. He just found out he's a dad, and he's honestly taking it better than anyone could. He brushes your tears away, and your pulse quickens, you clear your throat then. “We don't even know each other, it's insane huh?”
“Absolutely insane. But… I can't wait to spend time with her.” He says softly, you smile up at him, trying not to read so much into it, so happy he wants to be in her life but you have to remember that doesn't mean with you.
“Come over tomorrow I'll cook you lunch? Please don't break your phone again.” He laughs then, nodding as you two exchange numbers.
“Last name is Gojo. I hope one day hers can be?” And yours, he thinks, but he knows it's crazy to say, as he watches you smile so pretty through your tears.
“Maybe we can do that someday. Well, Reign, say bye to dad.” Satoru kisses her little forehead, leaning up then, thinking of kissing you. You both stand there a moment before he opens your door, and you set Reign back in her little pink car seat. You smile up at him again. “I am sorry I'm in pajamas by the way, ugh.”
“They're cute, little snowmen.” You snort, rolling your eyes as you slide in your car, hoping you will see him tomorrow with everything. “See you both soon.”
You drive away, and Satoru calls his driver and assistant then. “Can you order me everything a baby girl needs? And I need it by tomorrow.”
******
There’s a knock on your door, you peek in the mirror one more time, you took a bath last night, your hair is shimmering and clean for once, you have just a little concealer on for those dark circles, a little lip gloss. You’re wearing clothes and not sweats or pajamas, a little top with a cardigan and jeans, nothing fancy but you look human again.
You can’t believe that Satoru will come, until you open that door and see him, standing next to a tired looking dark haired man holding an insane amount of glittery pink bags. Satoru’s grinning at you, wearing Gucci shades and a dress shirt probably worth more than your rent, only one little bag in his hand swinging side to side as he greets you.
“Satoru, you… what is all this?” You ask curiously, and he shrugs a broad shoulder, handing you the little bag.
“All that is for Regin, this is for you though.”
“What!? It’s too many things!”
“Miss, may I?”
You realize he’s just standing there struggling, and come to then. “Oh, yes I’m so sorry! Put them on the table?”
Satoru and Kiyotaka walk in then, you have a little place, it’s about the size of Satoru’s living room altogether, but it’s comfy and clean, lived in and every bit of it has something of you. He sees pictures of you pregnant on your little silver fridge, pictures of Reign all over, along with Christmas cards all placed with magnets. He sees you’ve baked cookies, too, the scent making him starve.
Almost as much as your scent, so sweet and intoxicating, as he stands next to you, gesturing to the bags. “I wanted to get her something, remember?”
“This is a whole store though!” Kiyotaka leaves now, and you’re delving into the bags, gasping as you pull out the softest, fuzziest pink blanket. “Oh my god…”
“I just had them buy everything for a girl? Is pink good?”
You giggle then, smiling as you pull out a pretty pink dress. “She doesn’t know colors yet, Satoru.”
Of course she doesn’t.
Satoru truly doesn’t know shit about kids, he called and told his mom, asking for advice, and almost gave her a heart attack he thinks. “Of course not, I… where is she? Is she napping?”
“She is, but don’t worry she usually wakes up soon. Oh these are so cute, how expensive are these!? She’s gonna wear them for like a week!” You ask then, pulling out a little baby pair of fancy shoes, then two more. “She can’t even walk yet… ah, but these are so cute though.” You’re clearly conflicted, he chuckles a bit, then you stand up. “Oh my god, I’m a shitty host!”
“You’re cute.” His words, all husky with that deep voice of his, make you flush now, making you even cuter to him. “You look pretty today.”
“Oh thank you, I didn’t want you to think I’m constantly a monster.” He snorts, rolling his eyes.
“You’re cute either way. This was you pregnant?” He asks, as you lead him to the kitchen.
“Yes, I was a whale, oh god.” He touches the photo then, a longing surging through him, he missed this, he missed you like this. He feels an ache washing through him, looking at your glowing face and round tummy.
“No, you were beautiful.” Your breath catches, eyes shooting to his as he looks at you now, feeling something pulling you towards him, it’s like he takes the air out of your lungs just standing here.
“You’re very sweet, Satoru… thank you.” You manage to breathe out the words, when he looks down at your body now, heating it up with his gaze.
“Did you like being pregnant?”
The words throw images in your mind, of him over you, putting more babies in you, fucking insane ones that you shove down quickly. He was clearly caring, and wanting to be involved, you needed to keep your thoughts to that and only that, despite the way your stomach is fluttering at his proximity.
“I did love being pregnant, feeling her move and kick, singing to my tummy and feeling her calm down. But towards the end it was really rough, because she decided she wasn’t coming out.” You say with a little laugh, Satoru can see in how you speak how much you adore her. “Would you like to see more pictures later?”
“I’d love to. You didn’t open what I got you.”
“You shouldn’t get me anything. Oh, do you want some cookies?”
“Yes please.” He starts munching down on them, moaning. “You baked these?”
“I bake when I’m nervous? It gets insane how much I bake.” He smiles then, you’re tucking your shimmering hair behind your ear, grabbing him a glass of milk before you go grab the little bag.
“Open it, now.” He sips his milk as you sit on the barstool by the counter, fingers gently pulling apart tissue paper, until you open a little box and see a gift card.
“To a spa!? I haven’t ever been to a spa? What I can’t!”
“You will. When you’re comfortable I could watch her, so you could get some time to yourself.” You sniffle then, the kindness of him after all the overwhelming months you’ve had is too much, you shake your head.
“I can’t, it’s all too much, you shouldn’t feel like you have to do this!” He walks to you then, brushing a tear from your cheek, exhaling as he leans down so close.
“Sweetheart, I’m fucking rich, okay?”
“I assumed… wealthy with your clothes…”
“No, filthy fucking rich. Let me spend it on my baby and get her mom just a little thing please? How can you take care of her without any care for you?”
“I just do it, Satoru. I just do it.” He brushes more of your tears now, his lips far too close, you still don’t know him truly but the gesture is melting every defense you may have had up.
“Just go relax one day, not now, when you’re more comfortable.” Reign starts crying then, making Satoru back off just as you’d leaned your chin up, and you two had been so close. You back away too, nervously standing.
“I’ll go get her for you.” You say with a big smile, eyes still watery, and then you bring her out, Satoru’s heart swells even more than it did seeing you, he eagerly picks her up this time, versus being so nervous as before. “Dad spoiled you already.”
“Not even close to spoiled yet.” He murmurs, snuggling her to him.
“Have a seat, please.” He sits on the couch with her, you take one of the many little blankets, gently laying it over her and then sitting on the couch with him, as he stares at her in wonder.
“She barely cries?”
“That’s around you, it seems. She likes you already.” Your words fill him with far too much happiness, a happiness he’s never known, but also such a longing.
“I wish I could have been there.” He whispers, brokenly, the handsome white haired man holding your little girl, and suddenly you can picture it, maybe his big bright smile during what was a difficult labor.
“You’re here now.” You assure him, a hand gentle on his shoulder, the caress delicate before you think better of it, pulling your hand back. “I thought about you a lot, I mean… I tried to find you.”
“I wish you had.”
“Really?” He nods then, emotional. “Satoru Gojo, you surprised me, I thought for sure you’d turn and run.”
“Nah, why? Look at her.” She’s blinking her long lashes, grinning at him then. “So what do I like… do with her? Besides holding her?”
You laugh softly then, it’s so easy to have him around, it feels so natural that it’s weird. “Well you can feed her a bottle I pumped, but I breast feed mostly.”
He gulps now, looking at your top, where your nipples were pressing against the thin fabric. “Oh?”
“Yeah, depending on her mood, sometimes she is vicious. I’ll show you.” You gently take your top up, feeling his gaze when you pull off your nursing bra.
“That thing is easy access.” He murmurs, you giggle a bit, nervous for him to see you when you let it drop, revealing one of your pretty breasts to him, leaving him dazed before he snaps out of it, handing you Reign.
It’s very intimate, sitting with him while you feed her, she’s sucking hard, so hard you wince then, her little long nails digging into your breast as Satoru smirks. “You’re gonna laugh at this pain?”
“She’s just like her dad, look at her go. A pro.” You snort, rolling your eyes and shaking your head as Reign aggressively punches your breasts for more milk.
“I wouldn’t know, I don’t think you did that.” You murmur thoughtfully, pushing back flashes of the night while she suckles.
“That’s a tragedy.” You look down shyly, lashes casting shadows on your cheeks, while you feed his daughter, his daughter, it’s still not comprehending, it’s still taking him a lot to conceive it’s real. “Look at her face, oh my god!”
Your heart warms as he leans over, and Reign has stopped drinking, a goofy smile on her face. “She’s milk drunk.”
“What now? She looks high as fuck.” You hold in your laughter so you don’t wake her now, her eyes are shut and she’s still sucking on nothing.
“She does look stoned, it always cracks me up. Do you wanna put her to bed? I’ll show you where she sleeps.”
He nods and takes her again, watching your nipple with just a droplet of milk on it, he swipes it away before he can think better, making you shoot your eyes to him, lips parted. You hastily put the bra back up as a blush pinkens Satoru’s cheeks, slipping down your top, his touch on your sensitive nipples almost ended you just now. The desire for him in every way is almost insane.
You show him to the only room in your little place, it’s got a crib and a bassinet, and a tiny little bed that he assumes you must sleep in. You start wrapping her up in the new pink blanket then, swaddling her so tight, he watches in wonder at it, as you bundle her up.
“She’ll like a little burrito.” You snort in laughter, trying to keep quiet and covering your mouth then, looking up at Satoru in amusement.
“She kind of is? Babies like to be swaddled, they feel comfy.”
“You know so much… Have you had any experience before?” You both watch as she settles now.
“No, I learned all this from lots of books and bugging the shit out of my mother. Though she even thought I was crazy to have her. But something…” You trail off then, shaking your head. “Sorry.”
“No, please go on. Something?”
“Something told me I was meant to have her, it sounds crazy. But… I knew I could do it, even if it’s a lot.”
Satoru’s hand comes to rest on the small of your back, as you turn your head to look back up at him, seeing the emotions written all over his perfect face. “You’re doing great.”
You break down then at that, sobbing against his chest as he holds you, soothing rubs on your back. “I needed that, shit I’m sorry.”
“Shh, it’s okay.” You stay like that for a moment, letting him hold you against his chest, your face buried against his shirt, tears spilling freely while you take several breaths. “You’re a great mom, I can already see.”
“Shit…” You pull yourself together, taking several breaths and leaning back then, Satoru’s cupping your face and it takes everything not to kiss him, this man who you still barely know. “I really appreciate that. It’s been hard so far, but I love her so much, it's impossible how deeply.”
“I can feel it already. You, missy, need that break.”
“I couldn’t…”
“I want to be involved, I want to care for her, and that means her mom too. Yeah?” You shake your head, earning his little glare. “Stubborn little brat.”
“Excuse me!?” You glare right back, and he grins.
“You are one!”
“Me a brat?” Your eyes narrow as you cross your arms.
“Mmhmm.” Satoru tilts your chin up, your head falls back then, and he imagines entwining his fingers in it, imagining kissing you just like that night. He leans even closer and you pull back, clearing your throat.
“We should step out so we don’t wake her.” You murmur, when you’re back in the living room you’re carefully folding all the clothes he’s bought. “Oh, I promised lunch! You up for stir fry?”
“I’m up for anything you wanna make, after eating those cookies.” You set to work, and soon the two of you are eating lunch together, Satoru moans as he devours the food. “My god you’re a good cook.”
“Thank you, I love to cook.” You nibble on your rice thoughtfully. “Ugh, I’m gonna hate leaving her to work.”
Satoru scowls now. “Huh?”
��Maternity leave is over in two weeks. I’m just going to work part time though, so I’ll still see her plenty. Maybe I’ll bring her to work?”
“Where do you work?”
“A library, I’m very exciting.” Satoru grins now.
“You look like a little librarian.”
“What’s that mean?”
“Goodie goodie, despite the bathroom…” You both quiet then, as his mind whirls, and yours spins, remembering.
“S-Satoru!” You’d cried out as his fingers had pumped in and out of your tight little entrance, soaking his fingers as he kissed down your neck, you watched your reflection in the mirror as he pressed you against the sink, free hand gripping you right under your chin.
“Fuck, look at you? So sexy…” He murmurs, the club's music pounding like your heart in your chest. He has a big hand muffling your cries as you soak his hands, dripping all over him. “Hear her?”
His murmur against your ear makes you tremble, shivers sending down your spine as he builds that pressure inside you. You nod, drooling against his palm, when he is hitting that spot that has your eyes rolling back, pressing on it over and over with his long, thick fingers. You’re screaming into his hand, ass arching against him.
“That’s it, pretty, cum f’me huh?”
You both get quiet then, you see it clear as day, your face in that mirror as he’d filled you, and he remembers sucking your juices off his fingers, god it’s been almost a year and he can’t get your taste off his mind. He’d been with a few women here and there since he didn’t think he’d see you again, but they were nothing like it, nothing like you.
How your body responded, every little muffled cry, he remembers dying to get you fully naked, planning it all out when he would call you. He wanted you to not even leave his bed, he’d fully taste you, make you cum with his mouth. He’d get to look into your eyes as he filled you so good, have your legs up over his shoulders while he pumped inside.
It’s like electricity in your quiet little home, the two of you sitting in a daze, your breath comes quicker when he leans across the table, brushing your cheek with his fingers, feeling the heat on them. “Warm?” He teases.
“Um, a little.” You stand then, taking his plate and smiling, acting as normal as you can. “All done?”
“Yeah, thank you.” He watches you wash them then, he can’t even fathom not having a dishwasher, but you’re there with your pretty hands and that sponge. He doesn’t want you to work, he doesn’t want you even doing this, you should just enjoy the baby.
But with how stubborn you are, how independent? He doesn’t know if you’ll even take his offer when he makes it.
“How about you come to my place with the little Dumpling this weekend? Maybe… stay a night? I’ll have her something set up.”
“Stay the night?” You nearly break the dish you’re drying, Satoru catches it, suddenly next to you. “Who are you, Edward Cullen?”
“Pshh, I look like a glittery fucking vampire?”
“A bit.” You’re both laughing softly then, he dries the plates and you show him where to put them up. “It’s nice having a giant around.”
“Almost whacked my head on your ceiling fans.”
“The hardships of being stupidly tall, hmm?”
“Hmm.” He leans against the counter now, snowy lashes lowering as he studies you intently, those eyes that just do something to you, even after this long. It feels like you’ve known him, when one of his hands delicately brushes down your shoulder, feeling the soft knit of your cardigan. “You dress like a little librarian.”
“Do I now? Not that night.”
His nostrils flare just a bit. “Not that night.”
Satoru had you lifted on that sink, sinking inside you for the first time, damn near whimpering in your ear as he kissed on your breasts, trying to yank them out as much as he could but failing. “Slutty little dress.”
“S-slutty? You’re… slutty!” You’re clinging to him as he stuffs you so full, too fucking full, your cunt is drooling down his veiny length as he fucks into you, your thighs pressing against his narrow hips.
“Both are, listen to her… ha…” He’s got one hand cupping your face, looking at you before he slams his lips down, tongues dancing while his cock keeps thrusting, tip dragging your spot, as you fall apart in the bathroom, a tangle of limbs intermingling with muffled cries. “F-fuck…”
“That dress still does things to my mind.” He admits, and you wonder then, how’d you both get so close? How were you nearly flush against him?
“Does it now?” Your attempt at a tease meets with a broken voice, and you clear your throat, looking down shyly. “I don’t think my ass would fit in it now, your baby girl gave me some hips.”
“I bet they’re sexy.”
“She gave me stretch marks too.”
“Sexy.”
“You’re ridiculous.” You shake your head then, brushing a hand up his chest, wondering just what his body looks like. He's clearly built, you can tell he's muscular, but you have to wonder just how he looks. “You… don’t date anyone?”
“Nah. I mean I have had some dates this year, but nothing serious.” He couldn’t say it’s because of you, because he compares women to this random girl he felt such a pull to, and now it’s a million times worse. Even picturing cute little stretch marks from having his baby makes Satoru feral, it takes a lot not to show you, to act cool and calm with a little smirk.
“I haven’t at all. I mean… I’m so busy with Reign, and the pregnancy.”
“Been a while then?” His words are full of suggestion, his hand now brushes the air across your waist, hovering, like he wants to pull you in, and you’d let him, when Reign starts crying. You both step apart, his hands in his pockets, yours nervously fidgeting with your sweater.
“I’ll go get her.” You come back with her now, and Satoru lights up at seeing her in your arms, bending down to kiss her downy soft hair, sighing.
“Why does she smell so good?”
“Baby smell. I know, it’s addictive.” You inhale her scent, smiling as you are once again a centimeter from Satoru’s lips, your gaze goes to them, glossy and plump.
“Will you come this weekend?”
“Y-yeah, I’ll be there Satoru.”
“I am going to learn things, I promise.”
“Satoru, just take it one day at a time. You’re doing great.” He nods then, gulping down his every emotion as he leaves you two, and it feels so awful and wrong to leave you both, every force in the world pulling him back.
“How’d it go, Mr. Gojo?” Kiyotaka asks, as he’s driving him back home.
“Amazing. They're so beautiful.”
“They?”
“I mean…” You both are. “Kiyotaka, do you know shit about babies?” The man smiles tiredly then, shaking his head.
“No, Mr. Gojo, but I see you’re so… happy?”
Satoru has a silly grin then. “I am, I want to set something up for them, think you can order more baby things? For my place?”
“Certainly, Sir.” He smiles as he watches Satoru in the rearview mirror, he never would have pictured something like this, but it’s clear Satoru is beaming.
*****
“Come in, come in!” You pause in awe as you carry Reign inside Satoru’s insanely beautiful home. It's probably ten of your place if not more, sleek and elegant, everything brand new and sparkling clean. He’s instantly taking Reign, who is babbling at him as he cradles her, melting you completely before you even take a step.
“Your place is beautiful.” You murmur, he smiles at you then, taking your diaper bag off your arm and leading you inside.
“Thank you for coming, I missed her already!? Yes I did, dumpling!” He plants kisses all over her face now, Satoru Gojo holding your baby just did things to your heart, rewired your brain, seeing them both light up.
“She missed you too.” You murmur softly, Satoru looks at you then, white teeth glinting under the soft lights, taking in your pretty dress.
“Mama looks pretty.” He whispers, loud on purpose clearly, you’re a blushing mess, when Satoru’s blue eyes sweep over you.
“You’re too much.” You say, but you’re lowkey falling bad, you’d talked with him so much these past few days, as he asked endless questions, but also as you two got to know each other. You’d fallen asleep on the phone last night, Satoru had listened to your light little snore, smiling and falling asleep with you.
It seems too easy, which terrifies you, but so far it’s been Satoru being excited to be a dad, so you keep trying to remind yourself that is what this was, but it’s hard when he looks at you that way. “Too much? You haven’t seen shit. Come on.”
“Oh god.” You follow him now, as he leads you through a wide open hall, winking at you.
“Ya ready?”
“I think so?” He opens the door and it takes your breath for a moment, it’s a fully done nursery with everything a baby could need and more. There’s a pretty crib, a bassinet, a rocking chair even, it’s painted a baby pink with little teddy bears lining the ceiling.
“I know, I went overboard, I don’t know how to not go overboard when I do things? And I want the best for her? I know you probably won’t be-”
“Satoru.”
“Hmm?”
You smile then, placing a hand over his where it rests on Reign’s lap. “It’s beautiful, it’s so beautiful.”
He exhales in relief then. “Yeah!?”
You’re giggling now. “Yeah.”
“Mommy likes it, yes!” His enthusiasm is infectious, it’s the first time you think you’ve truly been light hearted in so long, as he places her gently in the crib. “I had my mom go crazy and paid for it to get set up, really I did nothing but pay out.”
“It’s the most thoughtful thing in the world.” You hug him then on impulse, before pulling back shyly, your eyes meet each other, his hands on your waist. “But how will she go back to my shitty place? I hope she doesn’t get bougie.”
“I want her bougie.” You laugh again softly, she’s playing with the little ovehanging baby mobile, she’s enamored by the hanging stars. You watch him lean over the crib then. “She’s a princess, you know.”
You can’t take it then, you have to step out, shaking now, struggling to catch your breath, when Satoru steps out with you, looking at you with concern. Your feelings of him are utterly overwhelming, the beauty of Satoru fawning over his little girl puts these thoughts in your mind, of being a real family. As someone who didn’t have a father, and didn’t think Reign would, the hope filling you is so much.
“I got too excited.” He nervously admits, leaning against the wall next to you and rubbing the back of his neck. “I want her to have everything, if my mom didn’t talk me out of it she’d already have a pony.” You snort then, even through your tears. “There, a little laugh.”
“It’s not you, this is amazing, it’s just… I planned my life, I planned it all out with her, alone. And now… we won’t be? I don’t know how to process it, how to really believe it. But I’m so happy she’ll have it.”
“C’mere.” He pulls you against him into a big hug, arms wrapped around you tightly, bringing you against his chest. “I didn’t think I’d have this, a baby girl? I know what you mean, it’s not what I pictured.”
“Exactly. And… maybe I enjoy this too much.” You look up at him now, his lips quirked up at the side.
“Me too much?” He raises a brow.
“Maybe.”
“Hmm.” Satoru leans down close, when the doorbell rings, he exhales then, laughing softly, pressing a kiss on your forehead. “So I may have invited my mom. Is that okay?”
“Of course it is.” You are trying to calm your nerves when you meet her, long silky white hair and bright blue eyes. It's clear those genetics are strong, she surprises you by wrapping you in a hug.
“Where’s this grandbaby of mine?”
Soon she’s melting over Reign like the two of you have been, and Satoru’s made you both hot cocoa, family isn’t something you’ve really had, and to feel this comfortable and good? It’s almost like some dream, as you all are so cozy inside, and Reign is just getting fawned over, giving you a little bit of a reprieve until she’s hungry.
“I have a bottle, do you wanna feed her, Satoru?”
“I can do that?” You smile at him, nodding, and soon he’s got a bottle in her mouth, you position his arm just so as his mom watches you both with a knowing smile on her face.
“You know, I could always babysit sometime. For you two… to go out.” You both blush now, looking up at her.
“Go out?” You almost squeak the words out, sipping your cocoa now that it's gone just a little cold, enamored with watching Satoru.
“Yes, go out. Parents need time away.”
“We’re not… um…”
“I’d take you out.” Satoru says softly, and you feel those butterflies in your tummy going wild.
“Yeah?” You manage to ask, failing at being subtle.
“Yeah.” He smirks a bit, then Reign coughs. “What’s wrong!?”
“She needs to burp, calm down.” You lift her against your chest, patting her back now. “This is what you’ll do, it’s just some air in her tummy.”
“Oh thank god.”
“You three are precious.” His mom checks her phone then. “I have a meeting, but I hope to see much more of you both.”
“Me too Mrs. Gojo!” She smiles, planting a kiss on Reign’s head then yours before she leaves. “She’s amazing!?”
“I know, right? She was dying to meet her.” His hand rubs Reign’s little back, so big it’s as long as her almost, his other arm resting over the couch, brushing against you when he leans closer. “Thank you for having her.”
“Oh, Satoru… I just wish…”
“Yeah, me too.” He inhales and exhales, his eyes swimming with emotions. “I wish badly. I hate that I missed her coming into the world.”
“I’m so sorry… but I swear, she’ll not remember that, she won’t remember it at all.”
“But you remember.”
“Satoru, it's not your fault, don’t dare blame yourself.” He sighs now, his hand dropping off Reign to rest on your thigh over the thin black tights you wore.
“I don’t want you working yet. Will you let me help?”
“Satoru…” You shake your head. “You are not going to pay my bills.”
“Then stay with me? Stay the year with your baby… with our baby, please. She should have her mom home.”
“It’s too much of an offer, I can’t just live here! We aren’t even…”
“If you hate it I’ll get you your own place. I promise. Just let me take care of you… of both of you?” You stand, turning away, Satoru’s hands grip the sides of your arms as he leans close. “Please think about it.”
“I’m not a charity case, Satoru. I’m okay where I am.”
“I know that, okay? But I missed all of the pregnancy, I didn’t get to help with any medical bills, anything. Please just…” He turns your chin to face him, his glossy lips ever tempting as they hover just above yours. “Please think about it.”
“It’s overwhelming, okay?” He nods then, you lean back just so, feeling his lithe body against your back, leaning back just so.
“You’re not alone anymore.”
“Satoru…” He wraps his arm around you, resting his chin on your head. “You don’t have to do all this.”
“I want to.” For you and Reign, but Satoru can tell your pride is getting in the way, and he can tell you’re conflicted. “Give it time, no rush, yeah?”
*****
After a few weeks of constantly being at Satoru’s house, you damn near almost live there. You come over at about the same time Satoru’s off work, and he learns more and more about Reign every single day. He’s learned how to change diapers, how to feed her, and learns what certain cries mean. Reign rolls over for the first time on her mat and you’ve never seen anyone more excited than Satoru.
He takes selfies with her and they are Insta famous, he has Reign’s name painted on the nursery door, though she tends to still sleep in the room you stay in, with her little bassinet. Satoru’s had you in the guest room, but what you don’t know is at night he checks on you both, he kisses Reign’s forehead and tucks you in, he watches how cute the both of you are.
He watches you with Reign, ever attentive, and it’s about the time you’d have to go back to work, he can feel how devastated you are thinking of it, when you all are quietly sitting in the living room, having nibbled on takeout as Reign sleeps. You take a breath then, looking at the man you’re falling deeper for every day, every moment you spend with him.
“Satoru…”
“Yeah, sweets?” His little nickname always does something to you.
“I would love to stay with you, to stay home with her for a few more months, if you’re sure it’s still okay?”
Satoru jumps up then, picking you up and spinning you, you’re laughing breathlessly as he eases you down, and you’re flush against his body. Despite the endless times you’ve ached to kiss him, to do so much more, you both have been a little apprehensive, you both don’t know what’s okay, what’s not. You both feel far, far too much and are afraid of it.
“You’ll stay!?”
“I’ll stay. But I’ll cook, and help pick up, and-”
“Shh. Just stay.” He’s cupping your face, he’s so close you can almost taste his sweet breath, your lashes lowering over your eyes now. “I want you with her, let me do that for you? And… I want you here. All the time I… miss you when you’re not.”
“Are you giving me puppy dog eyes!?” You demand with a grin, and he pouts his lips.
“Maybe. Is it working?”
“It’s working.” You don’t stop yourself, not this once, when you lean up on your tiptoes, pressing your lips to his, and when you do, the eclectic shocks shoot from his lips, it’s just like that night a year ago, but more intense. You pull back nervously, looking away. “I’m sorry, I…”
“No.” Is all he says, pulling you back, bending low and taking over your lips, he moves them gently over yours, big hands taking over your waist and dragging you closer, mouth opening, tongue slipping past the seam of your lips. Your mouth opens in a gasp, and then his tongue delves inside it. “Don’t apologize for kissing me.”
“Satoru…” He’s exhaling against your lips, kissing you again, soon your back is on the couch, and he’s moving over you, his hand trailing your waist, up to your breasts, your hands clinging to his shirt, gripping the smooth fabric as you fall apart from his kisses. They’re sweet, intense kisses, slow like he wants to savor every moment with you, growing more and more insistent.
He pulls up, just looking at you now, your thighs are around his hips, you feel that ache between them, not just physically either, you crave more and more of him, and you have been since you saw him again. You both just look at each other, speaking without words as he slips up your top, and you yank it nervously, earning his frown, stopping your hand.
“Not ready yet?” He asks, you shake your head.
“You won’t… I’m not… I don’t like my tummy anymore.” You admit softly, tears threatening to spill, Satoru lifts your shirt then, leaning down and running his thumb across the little stretch marks Reign left.
“Well, baby girl… I love your tummy. Should I show you?” You shake your head, breaths coming quicker and quicker now. “You had my baby, you carried her for me, and she left you more beautiful than before.”
“Oh, Satoru…” He kisses your tummy then, and desire shoots straight through you, your hands finally entwining in that silky hair you’ve craved to feel for so long, he’s looking at you under lidded eyes, pressing kisses lower.
“You’re beautiful everywhere. I bet it was sexy pregnant.”
You giggle just a bit, making Satoru smile against your skin, fingers tugging down your pants then, earning a little cry that makes his cock so hard it hurts. He’s been dying to taste you on his tongue, to feel you around his fingers, watch that pretty face in pleasure again, but he’s tried to take his time, tried to focus on Reign, but the thing is, he loves both of you.
He’s in love with you.
The way you move, the way you smile, the way you are with his baby? How your eyes brighten when Reign did something new, how you blushed when he gave you a compliment. But also, how your hips are shifting now, how your eyes are getting lidded, dilated with desire, and how the little silver lines run across where his baby was inside you.
“Satoru… that feels too good I… mmm!” You cry out quietly when his fingers find your slick heat, finding you drenched already.
“You this easy for me?” He asks, you want to retort, something witty, but you can’t, you just gasp out in pleasure when he’s got your pants off, and he’s parting your thighs, long fingers pressing in the plush of your skin as he stares at your pussy. “Fuck you’re pretty.”
You’re trembling as you’re fully bare in front of him, his breath on your clit alone makes you jerk, he places a teasing flick of his tongue right on your clit, you cover your mouth to hide the pathetic moan. He flicks his tongue again, thumps slipping the plump lips of your sex apart, watching the wetness pool out of your little hole, he catches it with his tongue, groaning as he tastes you.
Your hands clutch his hair so hard you’re tugging at his head, eyes rolling back in your skull, biting your lip hard not to make too much noise. He looks up at you, slinking his tongue all the way up your dripping pussy now, from your hole to your clit, groaning as you drip all over his mouth, his face.
“It tastes as good as I remember.” He whispers, enjoying that ruby red blush on your cheeks. “You’re so cute like this, sensitive?”
“You’re torturing me.” He chuckles, the hot air making you whimper, a sound that shoots desire through him. “Please…”
“Please what, pretty?” He casually licks you once more, leisurely as if he has all the time in the world, tilting his head just so to flick the underside of it, watching the tiny little clit twitch. “Use your words, sweetheart.”
“Make me cum, please.” He moans then, devouring your pussy, his movements less teasing and precise and sloppy, now, lapping up all the juices that pour as you cry out in pleasure, hips bucking up for more, then you feel his fingers sliding in and out of you now, pressing in deep, finding that spongy spot that makes you shiver.
“There you go, you’re clenching me s’good. Can’t wait to feel you around me.” He murmurs, curling his fingers just so, your legs are shaking so hard, you’re falling off that edge, chest rising and falling with your breaths.
“M-gonna… Toru…” Satoru moans now, the sound vibrating against your heat, he looks at you then, eyes dilated and dark, leaning up, his chin coated in your slick, shimmering.
“Cum for me, baby.” At that he sucks your clit into his mouth, tongue swirling around it, humming and making you shatter under him.
You come so hard you see stars bursting, eyes rolled back, your mouth in the most slutty O as you gasp out, you’re arching off the couch, his name a quiet little broken scream in the quiet room. You feel his smug grin against your sensitive bud, as he nips at it then with his teeth, making you jerk and whimper, leaning back to study your clenching little hole.
“There you go, so good for me, hmm?” He coles those words, slipping up you now, sliding his finger up and down your drippy slit, kissing you, letting you taste yourself off him.
“Need you. All of you.” You murmur then, he pauses his kisses, looking down at you, and emotions surge and mix with the pleasure, the insane need for him to fill you, over and over again.
“If we do, I want more than just… co parenting. I want more than just sex. I want…” Satoru gulps then, cupping your face carefully, your hand comes to grip his wrist, thumb brushing over his strong, fluttering pulse.
“I want more too.” You admit, swallowing nervously, as one of your hands rests on his chest.
“I want you to be my girl.” You’re crying then, nodding eagerly at his sweet and pure words, when he’s kissing you again, salty tears mixing with your taste. “Will you be? My girl?”
“I would love to be yours.” He moans again, standing then, helping you up, your arms wrap around his neck as he carries you, your lips don’t separate when he backs into his bedroom.
“Want you in my bed, every night.” He whispers, easing you onto the floor to stand, slipping your top off and revealing your breasts which sway just a bit, you eagerly unbutton his shirt, showing every inch of his chiseled, perfect frame. You gasp when you finally see him, fingertips trailing across sculpted muscles.
“You’re perfect, Satoru.” You whisper in wonder, and he cups your face again, kissing you deeply, a kiss so beautiful it ruins you forever, Satoru has ruined you forever, you know now what you knew that night deep down. “It’s only you.”
“It’s only you. You’re perfect.” You gasp as he picks you up again, laying you on the bed, you’re eagerly tugging on his pants, gasping when you see his huge, veiny length, something you’d had inside of you bud hadn’t even seen. You stroke him, earning his soft whine, he pins your wrist above your head.
“Lemme touch him, please?” You beg, earning both your hands pinned, as you laugh breathlessly.
“No way, I’m not busting quick, I’ve waited too long for this.” You giggle, earning his pretty glare. “I’m not.”
“You didn’t bust quick that night?”
“Yeah, I did.” You shake your head at him, gasping when he’s pressing against your entrance, he tenses, muscles flexing, when suddenly you both hear it, Reign on the baby monitor. “Shit.”
“Shit…” You both stay completely silent. “Maybe she’ll stop?”
“I sure hope so. Need to get you pregnant again.”
You blink in shock now, as Reign quiets. “Huh!?”
Satoru grins, a devious fucking grin, as he presses your legs apart, one over his shoulder, sinking in as you bite your lip, so filled by him, trembling beneath him as you roll your hips. “I need to see you pregnant, gonna be so fucking sexy.”
“You’re insane, Satoru Gojo.” You gasp when he shoves his length fully inside you, bottoming out and you’re so full you can’t breathe, clinging to his bare shoulders desperately as he moans, feeling your walls flutter.
“You didn’t know that yet? I’ll have to show you, sweetheart.” He’s fucking you then so good, thrusting in and out of your slick cunt, which is drooling all the way down his veiny length. He’s smirking as he rolls his hips just so, watching you start to come apart. “You love it, huh? Cock filling you so deep?”
“Please…” His leaking tip kisses your cervix, you shudder under him, cumming so hard you can’t tether yourself anymore, and he revels in it, in your pretty face all scrunched up, all reddened as you cry out.
“That’s it, can’t help yourself? Want me to fucking fill you?”
“Please…”
“You’re such a good girl, hmm?” The words short circuit what’s left of your brain, as Satoru leans back on his knees, hands slipping up your body, gripping your breasts, which have little droplets of milk. You whimper, trying to cover them. “Ah-ah.”
He leans forward, sucking them then, you’re so sensitive you scream, thanking everything Satoru has a huge home and that the baby couldn’t hear anything, because the sounds he writhes out of you are filthy. He leans up, licking the little droplets off and grinning again, possessively gripping your throat, hovering over you as his cock slides in again.
“God, even that’s sweet. All of you. Sweet and slutty.” He huffs, you’re kissing him desperately, nails pressing against his scalp as they grip his hair. “My girl, you’re all mine now, hmm?”
“Wanna be… y-your girl.” You whisper, ending him as your cunt gushes down on him, as he feels the tight muscles grip him like a vise, he eases back, shoving your legs up then in a mating press, every instinct making him crave to make you his again. Cum in you, fill you, make you pregnant. “Toru… I haven’t… not a lot of… exper-ah!”
“That’s alright baby, I’ll fuck you so good, all you gotta do is take it, yeah? Look so fucking pretty f’me.” The sweet, emotional and cute Satoru is now feral, psychotic and possessive, his eyes so blue they hurt to look at, but you’re nodding eagerly. You’ve never been fucked like this, not even close, but he assures you, over and over that you can take him. “That’s right, gonna take all of me.”
Your thighs are smushed against your breasts as Satoru fucks you harder, perfect strokes that hit every spot, spots you can’t even figure out, the ridge of his cock hitting again and again until you’re close, already having cum twice. You’re sobbing under him as he leans his weight on your thighs, folding you in half and going deeper, deeper, bottoming out.
His balls slap heavy on your ass, so full and ready to pump his load in your eager hole, you’re a mess, tears on your cheeks, mumbling incoherently, pussy drooling and loosening more and more. You take him, all of him greedily then, as he slows just a bit, leaning up to press your thighs even higher, watching his cock disappear as your cunt sucks him in.
“Oh look, she’s taking me s’good, she wants it huh? You want it, greedy, slutty pussy.” He’s talking to your pussy, but you also can’t care, not when you’re so close, incoherently whining. “Can’t talk, sweetheart?”
“Gonna… cum… again… Satoru!” He moans as you speak his name, using a forearm to press your legs up, angling his cock just so, shoving deep as he presses a thumb to your clit, ending you utterly.
“There you go, cum on lemme fuckin feel her milk me.” He huffs, husky voice hoarse as your orgasm washes over you, full body, you’re shaking and sobbing as your arousal pours down him, making him tense, gasping. “Oh fuck…”
“Cum in me. Cum in me, please.” You beg weakly, and Satoru does then, full mating press, pumping all his cum so deep, filling you to the brim as he leans down, whimpering with you, tongues sloppy as you kiss.
“Feel s’perfect… gonna make you a mommy again, yeah?” You nod weakly, cunt throbbing as he pumps more and more, nails pressing into his back as you both ride your orgasms out, until you’re sensitive messes. “F-fucking… b-baby…”
“Satoru, g-god…” He is exhaling, easing your sore thighs down then, pulling out and watching the mess that pours from your pussy, a mix of his cum and yours, he grins at it.
“You’re so messy, hmm?” He shoves two fingers in your cunt, pushing his cum back in as you scream out. “Aww, you can’t take it baby?”
“Too much, ngh!” Satoru slips his fingers out, sucking on them and moaning, before repeating it, shoving them in your mouth, you moan as you suck them greedily, both kissing again, a tangled mess of limbs.
“Taste us together, god.”
“So yummy.” He kisses you again, again, again, as you struggle to come back down, heart still racing. “My god…”
“Yeah, holy fuck.”
“You’re like… you have a breed kink like bad.” He snorts then, kissing up the side of your neck.
“Could it have to do with the fact that my girl is gorgeous with my baby? And I’d love to really see her pregnant?”
“I want you there too. I do, even if this is insane.”
“Is it?”
“Yes, first we have a baby, then we move in together? What next, a first date?”
“You know… yes. Mom offered?”
You giggle at him. “So is this you asking me on a date!?”
“Mmhmm, with my cum pouring out. Wasting it, tsk tsk.” He starts kissing down your body again, when Reign cries, this time loudly. “Ugh.”
“Ugh.” You agree, brushing back his hair when he kisses your tummy. “You make me feel beautiful, Satoru.”
“You are.” He says simply, kissing you deeply, helping you up. “Most beautiful girls there are.”
“I…” You almost say it, but you’re still so afraid, those words on the tip of your tongue. Satoru smiles as if he knows.
“Go check on her.”
“Yeah.” You are soon all dressed, and Reign is no longer crying once she gets swaddled, her binky in her mouth. Satoru comes behind you, arms wrapping you tightly and pulling you against him.
“So, that date?”
“Mmm, got plans already?” You look back at him, as he holds you so sweetly in the quiet room.
“Yeah, the spa you never went to, brat.”
“Oh! Yes, let’s.”
*****
Satoru Gojo and you have had a baby, then moved in, and then you had your first date, which was both of you getting pampered, you were giggling when Satoru kept eating the cucumbers meant for his eyes, when he moved the masseuse because he got jealous of him. “My girl, I’ll rub your back.”
“So jealous.” You tease, but you then sigh in pleasure as his big hands rub your body just so.
“Maybe I am. Maybe I don’t ever wanna lose my girls.” You pause then, leaning up, breasts revealed as you’re just wearing a little towel. But Satoru’s eyes are serious, when he gently rubs his hands down to the back of your hips.
“You’re not losing us.” He’s kissing you, leaning over you in the spa, when he whispers in your ear.
“Let’s go.”
In the backseat of Satoru’s driver’s car, headed back home, you and Satoru devour each other, his hands on your rib cage, his lips on your nipples. Your head falling back, arching up for more, never, ever able to get enough. He’s filling you again, and you’re soaking him again, he’s fucking up into you one moment, one moment you’re controlling it.
A push and pull, a back and forth, endless kisses, until he’s filled you up again, whispering the lewdest things, picturing you as his wife, picturing you pregnant again, but the words are coming out as muffled, dirty words that don’t match. And you feel the same, you think the same, but you’re too fucked out to speak, too lost in everything that is Satoru Gojo.
That night, Reign is up and down, and you’ve just given her a bath, singing to her and cradling her. Satoru watches you, emotions catching in his throat, as a sliver of moonlight darts through the windows, illuminating the faces of the two girls he adores. Reign is being fussy, huffing, but then she hears you sing, and she’s calming, drifting off just so.
You catch him watching you, smiling at him, laying her back down gently. Satoru leans over, brushing a thumb across her cheek, as she sleeps so peacefully. “I love you, dumpling.” He murmurs to her, your heart aches at his words, as you repeat them softly to her, and Satoru wraps an arm around you.
“I love both of you.” You look at him then, so nervous, but he exhales, kissing you softly, feeling tears fall from his eyes, pulling back to see you’re trembling. “I know it’s a lot, but you have to know that I love you. I love both of you so much it hurts.”
“I love both of you.” Your heart hammers in your chest, as a hand slips up your back, and he leans down, blue eyes swirling with tears. “I’ll take care of you both, always. I… I’m complete now, with you both. I can’t ever lose you.”
“Satoru, never. I never want to be without you again.” Your hushed whispers are followed by sweet kisses, until you both close the door quietly, and Satoru has you picked up in his arms, effortless as you hold onto him, resting your foreheads against each other. “I’m home, here.”
“You are home, here. Want you to have my last name, both of you. Please.” You nod, sniffling as he carries you, kissing you desperately, pressing you against the door of his room once you’re back inside. “Need you to have my last fuckin’ name.”
“We will, Satoru. We’ll all be Gojos, hmm?” He grins so big then, easing you down and turning you, vivid memories of that night filling your mind, overwhelming your senses. Your head falls back as he kisses down your neck, slipping your shorts to the side to find you.
“So ready f’me?” You nod weakly. “Good, need to have a whole fucking clan of Gojos, yeah? Gonna give it to me?”
“Mnh, yes.”
You would give Satoru anything, and finally every piece that seemed so out of sorts is in place, as you found something you didn’t know was missing, and he found a family he didn’t know he had. As he eagerly works you so well that night again, you also know you want to give him more.
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read on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/62133598
#gojo x reader#gojo smut#jjk smut#satoru x reader#satoru gojo x y/n#satoru gojo x reader#satoru gojo x you#jjk gojo#jujustu kaisen#jjk x reader#gojo fluff#satoru gojo smut#jjk fluff#jjk x you#gojo x y/n#gojo x you#satoru gojo x female reader
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try it. (matsukawa issei x reader)
tags/cw: roommates to lovers, somnophilia, fingering, mattsun sends porn as a coping mechanism, size kink if you really squint
word count: 3.1k
“i’ve always wanted to try that.”
issei chokes on his beer when you speak. you point at the tv in explanation, as though he needs one. the scene playing has just started out with a couple in bed, spooning while they fuck. everything’s covered, but it’s easy to tell through the blanket that the woman’s leg is lifted, her back arching against the man’s chest while she cries out lewdly.
“never been fucked in the morning?” he jokes, keeping his eyes trained on the screen so he doesn’t have to look at you. his laugh sounds awkward even to him.
“mm-mm.” you shake your head, draining your wine glass, and he can’t tell if that’s a confirmation or a rejection of his guess. but he can tell that that wine bottle on the coffee table is empty, because you would never say these things to him sober.
“not that part,” you explain. frowning when you realize there’s no wine left, you rise from the couch, disappearing from the room and padding down the hall. issei sighs in relief at the moment alone, running his fingers through his hair and tugging hard.
“she’s drunk,” he whispers to himself, a reminder. “she’s drunk, and she’s your friend. and you can’t afford rent anywhere else, you stupid fuck.” that’ll do it. he’s broke as shit, and you’re a good friend. he can steel his nerves with those facts.
“she was asleep when he started,” you call from the kitchen.
fuck.
issei drops his head back, hitting it on the wall a few times with purpose. fuck, fuck, fuck.
you come back in, and he straightens, yanking the throw blanket over his lap. you’re too drunk to notice.
you’re too drunk to notice much of anything, really — including your own running mouth.
“she was asleep,” you say again. “and he fucked her anyway—“ you rush to explain yourself, holding a hand out when his eyes find yours, wide and uncertain. “consensually, obviously.”
that doesn’t help. he’d been assuming that, but you confirming it makes it worse.
somnophilia, his mind whispers, the word latching itself to you.
“i dunno,” you shrug, your refilled wine glass brought to your lips. “i think it’s hot, i guess. i’d try it.”
he really can’t afford rent anywhere else.
—
you’re scouring roommate ads in a hungover daze the next morning.
what is your problem?, you think, rolling over to groan into your pillow. you open your bank app, staring at the number in your checking account and wondering uselessly if it’s enough to afford a place on your own. one where you’ll never have to look mattsun in the face again.
why did you tell him that?
your brain flashes through two bottles of wine and drunk admissions, and you switch over to uber eats, deciding that cooking is simply not an option today. standing in that kitchen for more then four seconds and risking running into him is not an option.
you know why you told him that. you know exactly why you told him.
you told him because, despite every coping mechanism you’ve tried over the years of living with him, matsukawa issei persists in being the most attractive man you’ve ever met.
you told him because you wanted to test the waters. why you would ever test the waters with somnophilia, of all things, and not something standard and vanilla like ‘making out with a friend just happens sometimes’ or ‘drunk hookups aren’t so bad’, you will never know.
but you’d told him because you think about it. you think about him, doing things like that. things that aren’t standard or vanilla or easily explained or plausibly deniable.
you think about matsukawa issei fucking you while you sleep. and maybe it’s happened one too many times. maybe now it’s all you think about, enough that it comes up in your stupid, drunk admissions.
maybe — just maybe — you hope he might take you up on it, now that it’s out there in the open like that.
but that’s just a maybe. so you’re looking for another apartment, on the very real chance that he’s going to call you a freak and never speak to you again.
your phone buzzes in your hand.
it’s a text from him.
[10:17 AM]
mattsun: [link attached]
your face crumples into a frown. “what?” you murmur, jabbing a thumb on the link and hoping it’s not a virus.
your phone starts moaning at max volume.
you scream, slamming down on the side button to lower the volume as the video intro plays through. your eyes fly to the title.
milf fucked by son’s friend while she’s sleeping
there’s no fucking way he just did that.
[10:19 AM]
mattsun: smth like that?
“matsukawa!” you scream, rolling out of bed and storming out into the hall. he’s laughing loudly from his room, and you all but kick his door down. “what the fuck is your problem?!”
he’s in bed, cackling gleefully and covering his face with his blanket — but his eyes are anything but shy when he looks at you.
“just trying to ease the tension-“
“by sending me porn?!”
he shrugs and gestures to his phone. “im just saying, you’re not alone! at least—“ he glances down at the screen “—3.8 million other people are into it, too-“
you scream in frustration, turning and stomping back to your room. his laughter follows, echoing through your door even when you slam it.
he does it for two weeks straight. every few days, you wake up to a new link, each video titled something more obnoxious than the last.
guy takes step-sister while she takes a nap
mom wakes step-son up with a special surprise on his birthday
repairman finds sleeping beauty home alone
each one draws an irritated screech of his name and the echoing giggles of satisfaction from his room.
you could stop it. in fact, he’s asked you more than once if you want him to.
‘if you really want me to stop, i’ll stop, he’d said in your kitchen last week.
‘just say the word,’ he’d reminded you on his way out one morning.
‘i think you and i both know how important consent is,’ he’d murmured just two nights ago, leaning on your doorframe, his eyes hot on yours.
you’d shivered under his gaze and pretended to be engrossed in something on your phone. you’d hoped he couldn’t see the way you’d pressed your thighs together, but when you looked up, he was already staring down at them.
he’d met your eyes again and just hummed, flicking his dark eyebrows up at you before turning away. your phone had buzzed with a new link only seconds after his bedroom door had clicked shut.
you’re certain he knows why you haven’t told him to stop. that the truth is that you don’t want him to stop. you’re certain he’s testing the waters now, too.
because each video he sends you gets closer and closer to being about roommates.
your phone buzzes in your hands. you wonder if he knows that you watch each one, waiting for him to pull the trigger on the one that sits unspoken in the space between you.
he does, a week later.
—
you’ve caught him, issei realizes belatedly.
maybe he should have noticed after you started sitting closer to him on the couch. or maybe after you’d refused to tell him to stop sending you porn. or maybe even after he’d sent you something titled ‘roommate can’t help himself while she sleeps’ at 4 in the morning and you hadn’t called the cops on him.
maybe he should have realized you’d caught him after any one of those. but he doesn’t. he doesn’t realize it, not until this very moment, as you’re standing from the couch and bending over to clean the table of empty beer bottles before bed.
he doesn’t realize it until he realizes you’re not wearing any underwear.
he glances at you shamefully when you bend at the waist, hoping you don’t look back and catch him. and then he coughs violently, choking on his own spit and drawing your attention.
he waves you off, blushing furiously and not even bothering to stop his eyes from flying to your ass when you just shrug and bend over again. your pajama shorts have ridden up, but there’s no lacy edge on pink panties where there should be.
yes, he’d noticed years ago that these shorts tend to ride up and not mentioned it. yes, he knows what kind of panties you wear. yes, he has a favorite pair.
what are you gonna do if you find out, call him a pervert? he’d sent you roommate somnophilia porn and you’d made him coffee in the morning.
“‘kay, goodnight,” you mumble, and issei wonders if you’re shy about it or if he’s just hoping you are.
“g’night,” he breathes, eyes finding yours. you keep eye contact all the way out of the living room. your eyes drop to his lap at the last second, and he watches a grin stretch across your face just before you disappear from the room.
he looks down at his lap, and then he swears under his breath. he’s visibly hard in his sweatpants.
—
he feels like a pervert. he really feels like a pervert.
he stands in the hall outside your bedroom, one hand on the knob, feeling like a pervert. it’s 2 in the morning, and he feels like a pervert.
he sighs to himself and turns the knob slowly — ever so slowly, because he knows how it creaks, and he doesn’t want to wake you. he pushes the door open carefully, and then he finds you in the dark, moonlight spilling over your body.
you’re completely naked.
you’re on your stomach, blankets draped over your lower half and one knee bent out toward the wall. issei can see the expanse of your bare skin and the swell of your breast, but you’ve got your back slightly to him, so he can’t see everything.
but it’s enough.
he breathes hard, stepping into the room and shutting the door silently behind him. he runs his fingers through his hair, tugging hard and giving a soft sigh as he pads over to you.
when he lowers his knees to your mattress, it’s with his heart in his throat and his cock straining against his pants. you look so innocent, so sweet like this, even while he’s sliding the blankets off of your skin and exposing you in the moonlight.
is he really allowed to want this as badly as he does?
your breath is steady, only changing slightly when he braces himself behind you, propped up on one elbow. he scoots toward you, breath caught in his throat, and then slides his hand under the back of your knee. you shiver, probably because his fingers are ice cold, and he keeps his eyes locked on the side of your face.
when you don’t give any other sign of waking, he lifts your leg and hooks it backward over his knee, opening your body up for him.
he swears under his breath, staring down at you in the moonlight.
you shift, adjusting to the new angle of your body with a sigh. your back presses to his chest, and issei has to press his lips together so he doesn’t moan at the sight of you.
he keeps his eyes on your face when he slides his fingers along your inner thigh, watching you intensely as his icy fingertips dance close to the spot between your thighs that’s radiating heat.
when he cups your bare cunt, your skin breaks out in goosebumps, but you don’t move otherwise. issei moans now, because your body knows what he’s doing, but you don’t.
he’d had a feeling before — in the weeks between that moment on the couch and this moment right here — that he’d unlocked a new, previously untouched fantasy. that his reaction to your drunken admission might have been about more than just being attracted to you.
he sees it now. now, as he’s sliding two fingers between your folds and watching as you remain completely unaware, he realizes that you’ve done something to him. that you’ve made him want to do this to you, tonight and every night after.
it takes every ounce of his self-control not to shudder and moan in your ear when your pussy twitches under his fingers, reacting to him even when you don’t.
he drops his head to your chest, eyes locked on your face as he takes one of your nipples in his mouth. your lips part, and he freezes, but the sigh that falls out is nowhere near conscious, so he keeps going, sucking and licking and grazing his teeth over the bud while he massages your cunt with his now-warm fingers.
the first sign that you’re reacting is the growing ease with which he’s able to push his fingers against you. your entrance becomes slick, and he can’t help that he pushes his hips against your ass in response, seeking relief. he drops his touch lower and swipes the pads of his fingers through the mess there, spreading it all over your cunt.
when he circles your clit, slippery and warm now, your breathing changes, harder and rougher. the rise and fall of your chest pushes at his mouth, and he latches on with fresh fervor, watching your brows furrow and your lips twitch at the onslaught of sensations.
it shouldn’t be as easy as it is for him to push his middle finger past your entrance.
“fuck”, he whispers despite himself, mouth slipping off of you with a gentle pop and eyes rolling back in his head. your walls pulse around his finger, warm and velvety and wet beyond belief. his cock twitches hard in his pants as he slides his finger in and out of you, searching for that spongy spot that’ll wake you up.
he knows you might have wanted him to fuck you like this, but he can’t help himself anymore. he doesn’t have it in him to be careful anymore.
when his ring finger joins his middle, it’s with intent. the push is rough, bullying your cunt open with the size of his fingers, no doubt longer and fuller than you can get on your own.
you shift under him, a quiet noise of question leaving you, and he lifts his head, attaching his lips to the crook of your neck.
“y/n,” he whispers, more a moan than anything else. “need you.”
he sucks on the column of your throat while you come to, his fingers curling and spreading inside of you — his sloppy attempt to prepare you for him.
“h-huh-“ your head lifts slightly, and then you’re slamming it back against the pillow, your back arching. “oh, my god, mattsun-“
he almost comes in his pants when you say his name like that.
“couldn’t help myself,“ he starts, shaking his head and pushing his body against yours almost desperately. “you were so pretty.“ your cunt tightens around his fingers in response, and he files that away for later. keeps it in mind, the things that make you react like this. “need you so bad, y/n-“
“yes, god yes,” you breathe, a whine trapped in your throat. you turn your head, back still pressed against his chest, and drop your still-sleepy eyes to his lips.
the coil under issei’s navel tugs hard when he realizes how well he can read you.
he pushes his mouth against yours eagerly, moan unrestrained when your tongue slides against his. he wonders if you know how often he’s thought of this moment, years of wanting you and craving the feeling of you coming undone under his fingers.
“please,” you whisper against his lips, back arching when he pushes the pads of his fingers against that spongy spot that makes you whine. “more, mattsun.”
he groans, shivering when you pull his bottom lip between your teeth. “not yet — it’ll hurt,” he murmurs, leaning on every molecule of self-control.
“i can take it,” you just say, pushing your ass back against his aching cock. “promise.”
he never had that much self-control to begin with.
his moan comes out in a shuddered breath, overpowered by the sound of you whining when he slips his fingers out of you. he shoves his sweats down to his knees, meeting your eyes and seeing the urgency he feels reflected in your eyes.
when he slides his cock between your folds, it’s with a choked groan and a heaving pant in your ear.
“can i- are you sure-“ he stutters, already lining himself up at your entrance.
“please, please, please,” you babble, arching your back to make the angle easier on him.
you come around his cock before he’s even halfway in.
there are stars in his eyes by the time you’re done.
you cry out for him, shaking and clenching down hard, and he can’t do anything except bury his face in your hair and keep your leg lifted high with a trembling hand.
“fuck,” he breathes, voice tight. “fuck, y/n-“
“more, mattsun,” you sob. he thinks you might be the girl of his dreams.
pushing the rest of the way in, he shoves down his own orgasm, fighting and kicking and forcing it away so he can last more than thirty seconds inside of you.
he only manages a minute before he’s spilling into you with a stuttered moan of your name, face buried in your neck and head full of static.
you’re just slumped against him by the time he comes to his senses, breathing hard and synced with his.
“sorry,” he mumbles into your hair, ears burning with embarrassment. “i swear i usually last longer than that-“
you laugh, tired and still weak but bright all the same. “yeah — so do i.”
he snorts, pulling out slowly and letting your leg drop closed, trying his best not to moan at the feeling.
“are you sure that was okay?” he asks, a tiny inkling of doubt still seeded in his veins. you just giggle, whispering his name in fond exasperation.
“sorry, which part of me sleeping naked was a warning sign?”
“shut up,” he mutters, curling himself around you and feeling the beginnings of exhaustion start to drain his energy. “i’m staying here tonight. i don’t do one-night stands.”
you just turn in his arms and wrap your arms around his neck. “was i that good, mattsun? i was asleep for half of it.”
you’re gonna be the thing that kills him, he just knows it.
#banner by @/cafekitsune !!#matsukawa x reader#matsukawa issei#matsukawa smut#haikyuu smut#hq smut#hq x reader#haikyuu x reader
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yesterday afternoon - after an unsuccessful coffee shop date - you’d decided that dating sucked. it was much too awkward and formal and not at all like it was in the movies, putting too much pressure on the people involved.
last night - after watching shoko flirt her way into free drinks - you’d been tipsy enough to take her advice.
casual sex! it doesn't have to be with a stranger, just pick someone you know. someone you’re sure you won't fall in love with.
this morning you’d woken up to find gojo laying in bed next to you.
you lay shoulder to shoulder with the one person you should not have picked, staring up at the ceiling, waiting for the other person to speak.
“did we really–”
“three times,” satoru confirms happily, rolling onto his side to grin down at you. “i'm surprised we didn't do this sooner, really. our sexual tension has always been off the charts.”
when he leans in to kiss you, his lips meet your palm as your expression wrinkles. “don’t get familiar.”
“we’re naked together in bed– we slept together in more than the literal sense. can’t get more familiar than that.”
“and this never happen again,” you promise, refusing to look at him.
“why? because you’re afraid you’ll fall in love with me? it’s okay to admit it. i'm extremely lovable.”
you’ve seen the way girls fawn over him. how they swoon over his pretty eyes and confident smile. he’s satoru gojo. a legend amongst jujutsu society. you’re no one in comparison, not a user of an otherworldly cursed technique, not from a major clan.
people like him don’t fall for people like you. you’re afraid of rejection, afraid of being hurt.
“we’re friends,” you tell him honestly. “i don’t want to risk ruining our friendship over something like this.”
he tilts his head as your look at him. “shoko told you to try casual sex, didn't she? why not with me?”
“she told you?” you groan, dragging a hand down your face and making a mental note to never ask your roommate for advice for anything ever again.
“hey, look at me,” he urges, grasping your hand. you do as he says, meeting his earnest gaze. “i can be casual and chill, it’s not like i have a huge crush on you or anything.”
it’s so hard to say no to him. you really wish you could.
“i’ll think about it,” you tell him, rolling your eyes when he fist pumps. “but you need to go home before shoko sees you.”
but you’re dealing with satoru gojo, who almost never does what he’s told. “you’re not getting rid of me that easily. come here.”
he winds an arm around you, pulli my you in so you’re snug against his chest. explicit memories of last night flash through your mind, sending heat through your veins.
“i can’t.” you tell him (though you’re mostly reminding yourself.) this is insane— satoru, what are you—”
you’re cut off when he shushes you, whispering let’s sleep in for a little while longer.
he starts to drift off again as you struggle to escape his grasp, but your efforts are futile. even on the throes of sleep, satoru is stronger than you.
so you give up, resigning yourself to a few more minutes of…cuddling. shoko isn’t a morning person anyways.
after a minute, you find it's not entirely awful. it’s a purely physical reaction. gojo is good looking, even with his hair mussed with sleep and his mouth hanging open. because you know that under the softness of his skin lays defined muscle, and spending the morning in his nicely toned arms isn’t the worst thing in the world.
(it’s purely physical, is what your head tries to convince your heart, which is beating a little faster than usual.)
a very soft, content sigh slips past your lips.
then, shoko knocks on your door.
“hey! don’t tell me you’re too hungover for grocery shopping.”
“shit!” you whisper harshly, shoving him away from you. “she cannot see you in here.”
“afraid you’ll have to share?” he teases, narrowly avoiding being hit with a pillow. “okay, okay! where do you want me?”
“closet!” you instruct, scrambling my around the room to make sure none of his clothes are lying around. you thrust them into his hands, pushing him into your closet.
he catches the door before you can close it, smiling down at you. “aren’t you glad we’re doing this?”
you shove him inside, slamming the door shut just ask shoko bursts into the room.
“hey,” you greet, trying your best to appear casual as you lean against the door. your heart beats in your throat, as she squints at you, then lets her gaze sweep across the room.
“did you bring someone home last night?”
“no.”
she looks at you. really looks at you, you think.
“okay,” she finally says, though you can’t tell if she believes you. “i just– i thought i saw you leave with gojo. suguru said you two were flirting all night.”
“gojo and i?” you try to laugh, but it comes out a little strained. “never in a million years.”
shoko only shrugs, and you let yourself relax when she turns to leave…
…only for her to turn around once more, leaning the the doorframe. “well if you really don't like him, just let him down easy, alright? suguru told me he has a huge crush on you.”
wait–
“gojo?”
you hear a sharp inhale through the door.
“yeah,” she nods. “you really couldn't tell?”
gojo…has a crush on you. it takes a few seconds to truly sink in. “i had no idea.”
“of course you didn't. he’s definitely got a really weird way of showing it.”
she turns to leave for real this time, but you wait a couple extra seconds before opening your closet, finding a wide eyed, blushing satoru staring at you.
you can't help but laugh. at his expression, at shoko’s revelation, at this entire situation.
dating sucks, but maybe it won’t be that bad if it’s with him.
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FORSAKEN BY ALL THE GODS.
info: prince!kaiser x f!reader, enemies to lovers, fantasy au, arranged marriage, eventual smut. afab reader w she/her pronouns. reader has an established backstory and is not weak, reader’s appearance is nondescript. reader calls him “mihya” as they get closer. oliver and karasu are bffs in this lol. maybe some angst if you squint. happy ending!! plot is balanced with comedic moments.
synopsis: You will be killed by the one you love most. That line from his prophecy has haunted Kaiser his whole life. Against it all, you stand before him. Will you be the one to rewrite fate itself?
word count: 14k (please don’t let this scare you, i promise my writing is efficient)
a/n: this might be my magnum opus, i promise i poured my best dialogue and writing into this and it shows. if you consider reading like so seriously i will love you forever. also the smut is huge just like his cock <3 or my heart
Kaiser has been forsaken thrice fold. First, by his parents. His mother is said to be a beautiful woman that captured the hearts of all. His father could not bear her ultimate betrayal: leaving, causing him to wither away to nothing.
Kaiser guesses that this aspect of her runs in his blood after all.
The second and third time he is forsaken happen at once.
On the night that Kaiser is, by royal decree, anointed successor to the throne, he does as tradition dictates. He approaches the golden temple at the top of a mountain and mirrors the prophet within, sitting cross-legged in front of them.
The prophet gazes into the distance. And then, like a man possessed, they speak.
Lone Emperor who covets the throne, You will be killed by the one you love most.
Kaiser swears he feels even his heart stop at that. Cold rushes through him, the chill of it colder than anything he had felt at the front lines of war.
Forsaken by all the Gods —
The prophet stops, staring into the distance with a frown.
The silence is deafening. Noa, despite tradition, interrupts the ceremony and approaches the prophet, clicking his fingers in front of their face.
“The prophecy?”
The prophet’s eyes widen with fear. “I- I cannot.”
“What, are you afraid?” Kaiser scoffs. “The prophecy is bad as it is, it can’t get much worse than that.”
“No, I mean I cannot. The — the Fates! They’ve stopped speaking to me!”
“Excuse me?” Kaiser’s scowl is evident, and Noa swears that in any other situation, Kaiser would’ve moved for his sword and set his blade ablaze.
It speaks volumes that all he does is stare right at the prophet, fear barely contained in his eyes.
The prophet grips at Noa’s hand, forcing his gaze. “My lord, please believe me. This — in the history... it has never happened before. I swear it.”
Noa whistles, and the guards outside come rushing in. “Seize them,” he commands, and they stare at each other for a moment.
To seize and capture that which is considered holy? Is that not blasphemy?
Noa cares little, almost removing his sword from his sheath to do it himself. “What are you all waiting for?”
“My lord! I swear to you!” The prophet grapples towards Noa in spite of their hands being held behind their back, the guards barely catching them from falling to their knees. “The fact that I would admit this at all shows my loyalty to you!” The prophet gasps, breath coming fast.” I could have pretended, could have given a false prophecy. I did not. That’s the choice I made. That is all the proof you need.”
It’s convincing enough that Noa hesitates, taking a deep breath in. But he sees in the corner of his eye Kaiser’s state, sitting in the kind of stillness that you see before a battle, bent over at the bottom of the altar.
At that sight, Noa makes a single motion with his hand for the prophet to be taken away.
The room clears.
“Kaiser, I —”
Whatever comforting remark Noa might have made dies in his throat, because Kaiser laughs, a bitter and broken sound, that he would in the future rarely have his walls down to ever reveal again. He hides his eyes behind his hand and he laughs.
“Of course, my prophecy would come to something like this.” He drags his hand down across his face. “Forsaken by all the Gods.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Noa says it with conviction, and it’s enough for Kaiser to face him.
“Master?”
“You will still be the successor to the throne. As is your destiny.”
“My destiny?” Kaiser jabs a thumb to the now-empty seating. “We just heard my destiny.”
“What the gods have declared has nothing to do with me. I declare you the next to rule. That is all.”
Noa presses a hand to the crown of Kaiser’s head. “No one will know what transpired here. A tragic prophecy is a given. It is meant to be a trial of sorts, after all. Mine, too, was unpleasant. Though not nearly as dire.”
“What was yours?”
Noa breathes in deeply. “A twisted rivalry with a twisted man. One that was to be all-consuming to me.”
Kaiser scoffs. “A rivalry. Just train and win.”
Noa lets the comment pass, staring out of the temple and past the mountains. “The rivalry came and went. At the time, I felt it was the worst. I could not eat, sleep, or breathe without the thought of what he would do next on my mind. But I was lucky, that it passed.”
He motions for Kaiser to take his arm, bringing him back up to standing. “Yours will pass too, I’m sure of it.”
Kaiser waves his hand, gesturing at Noa to let go of him. It’s easy to say, easy to have faith when it is not your life that balances on the precipice.
Forsaken thrice: once, by his parents. Another, by the Gods. And third, by his own future lover. Kaiser curses the Gods and the Weaver for such a fate, for something possibly worse than death is looming over him.
You will be killed by the one you love most. That line has haunted his very being to this day.
~
The people do not know what causes their successor to turn so cold, as biting and harsh as winter itself. His quicksilver smile rattles bones, his sword is cutting like blood in snow.
The prophecy is on a need-to-know basis, and Kaiser has never been crueler. He trains, harder than ever. Enough that when an unmovable sword is found at the rocks of the ocean, he trains until he is able to pull it from the bank, wield it with one hand. Rumor has said it might take three men to carry, or that the night sky that shimmers across it is strong enough to kill even a god. His sole retrieval of it is proof to the people of his strength and stature, but compassion and love are rarely a topic of conversation with his name.
He focuses on his work. He does not take lovers. He barely sees others as friends. And he most certainly does not take a bride.
~
You appear before the throne and you do not bow. The scowl on Kaiser’s face at this says enough.
“You dare-”
“You have the sword.” You ignore Kaiser entirely, setting your sights completely on Noa.
The silence that follows is as large and wide as the ocean, but your gaze is sharp and keen, never faltering once until Noa speaks.
“Water sorceress,” Noa addresses you coldly, “or that’s what you told our people.”
“Yes.”
“You are not the only sorceress of water. Yet your power is second to none.” Noa stands, stepping down the stairs with heavy, thumping footfalls until he’s standing right in front of you. “They call you the water’s mistress, in the neighboring lands.”
“They do.”
He begins to circle you, like a hunter might before striking a deer. Standing next to you, his deep voice clear right next to your ear, he eyes you curiously. “They’re all wrong, aren’t they?”
You don’t answer. Noa takes that as answer enough.
“A power like that. Do you think me stupid?” He observes you, checks you visually for weapons, watches your hands to ensure you don’t call magic forth.
“Demigod.” He about spits the word from behind you, and yet all you do is tilt your head to catch him in your eye’s view.
“You are as well-informed as they say.”
“I am as logical as they come.”
“We are the same in that regard, then. So let’s get straight to the point.”
Noa returns back to the throne, seemingly satisfied with his observing, gesturing at you to continue.
“You have something belonging to me. A sword, heavier than most. Ancient, yet sharp. It is said to look like it contains a night sky.”
“The blade you’re speaking of was found by us, it is ours to keep.”
In the short silence that follows, Kaiser swears there must be irritation on your end, but you don’t show it. Instead, you take a deep breath in.
“The blade was thrown out of the heavens and spat out into this realm during a war between Gods.”
“Is that so? And how can you prove it’s yours?”
“I can wield it, unlike your people, who do not have the means to wield a sword as such.” You state simply.
Like rose grown blue, the impossible becomes possible. You can feel the divinity and the power that comes off the sword in waves the minute it’s unsheathed, your eyes widening. The ring of it is as familiar to you as your own skin, how could you not have felt its presence sooner? But Kaiser is fast, much faster than you expected, faster than he should be with a sword of that weight, that magnitude. Before you can turn your head, cold silver kisses your neck.
“This blade, sorceress?” He comes around from behind you, stalks around you just like his Master had, sword pointed like it may just draw blood from you at any moment. When you finally see his face, his sneer is wicked.
He takes pride in your wide-eyed gaze, your sharpened attention, but the lack of fear on your part grates at him. God-killing, they had called the blade. Yet you don’t shy away at all.
“Say we return the sword to its rightful owner,” Noa calls back your attention, “what would you offer us in return?”
“Offer in return? This sword does not belong to you. It is returned, as it should be.”
“This sword, with its divinity, could harm even a god.” Kaiser presses the blade closer to your neck, gleaming metal against your skin. “It protects this nation. What if the gods forsake us? If we return it to you, what would protect us against them then?”
“For what reason would they do such a thing?”
Kaiser barks a laugh. “Of course, there would be no criticisms from one of them. Water sorceress, demigod. Tell us, who are you, truly? What do your people call you, up there? No matter.” He lowers the sword, but leaves it unsheathed, its heavy weight balanced in his palm. A threat that at any moment, he may change his mind. “Those titles mean nothing to me. I have been forsaken, demigod. So know, I trust not even the gods.”
You sigh. Foreseeing a troublesome future has its cons, you suppose. Your queen would smile if you told her such.
“You ask for something with power in equal to or more than the blade. You asked me for my titles. I shall give you both.” The sleeves of your dress shimmer as you move them, and it’s in this moment that Kaiser notices they are not sleeves but water itself, cradled around your wrists like armor. “The Gods had bestowed on me the title Sword Maiden, and I offer myself and my services to you until the end of your line.”
That shocks the room like a bucket of cold water.
You turn to Kaiser, who stands beside the throne. You step forward once, and water rushes underneath that step, descending in waves over the floor as if it goes through it, a magic they have never witnessed prior. “You say the Gods have forsaken you? Let my presence be proof to you that they still watch over you.”
Kaiser scowls, “What sort of cheap trick is this?”
“My domain is truth. I cannot lie.”
“Oh, please.”
Your eyes narrow at him. “Would it help for you to press your sword against my neck once more?”
A goddess who cannot lie. Noa’s faith lies in logic, but he’s not one to look a gift horse in the mouth. His gaze flits between Kaiser and you before he seems to settle a decision in his mind.
“Until the end of Kaiser’s line.” Noa negotiates.
Kaiser’s gaze snaps to Noa. “You’re taking her up on this?”
You almost frown. “Fine.”
Noa quirks an eyebrow at you. “That simple?”
“Human lives move quickly.”
Kaiser eyes you curiously. “What happens when you lie?”
You blink at him. Once. Twice. Is that… almost a flustered look you have on?
He readjusts his grip on the blade. “Speak, sorceress.”
“Wh-What do you want me to say?!” You grip at your dress nervously, and that has him even more curious.
“I’m waiting here,” he sing-songs playfully.
“Before the lie can leave my voice, my neck swells up like a balloon, and chokes me.”
He smiles wickedly. “Demonstrate.”
Gods, if it wasn’t immoral, you could wring his neck right now.
You think, for even a moment, a simple lie. And in seconds, you’re almost suffocating on nothing, and Kaiser laughs. Laughs. A full laugh, bending at his knees.
“Oh gods, you’re like a pufferfish!”
You let go of the lie, taking heaving breaths. “Just because I have water capabilities does not mean I am a fish.”
In the midst of the conversation, Isagi leans against Noa’s side, a soft conversation full of worry.
“You’ll have to explain her presence to the council,” Isagi tells him, blue eyes wide with hesitation.
“Right, and your suggestion?”
“I have thought about it, considerably. If you say you hired her, with a force as powerful as her, the other nations may think you are to wage war. So… Given the heir’s… reputation,” Isagi’s gaze flits nervously between you and Kaiser. “If he is willing, she may be a good fit.”
Noa sighs. This, this exact theory, has been a conversation with the other members of his team for months. That a wife by his side would make him seem less chilling, make the transition to a new heir easier on the public, prevent outroar. It is one thing to feel that Kaiser keeps a nation safe, and another to love him as a ruler.
It’s an easy decision, but a hard conversation.
“Kaiser.”
He whips around, ceasing his antics quickly. “Master.”
Noa looks like he is about to say something to him, but hesitates, turning to you instead. Isagi nervously steps away from the dais, returning to his position.
“Goddess,” this time, there is no malice behind Noa’s words. “I accept your offer. However, your presence in this nation and in this castle must be explained appropriately. Should I bear you the title of my successor’s betrothed, would that be a title you’re willing to bear?”
Kaiser’s back straightens. “Excuse me?” he utters low.
“You do not have to bear children,” he specifies. “And you do not have to truly be wed.”
A goddess, to be betrothed to a mortal, as princely as he is, is a serious affair. Kaiser slides his gaze to Isagi, with the audacity to even suggest such. And yet, you seem to ponder it like a simple question.
“I see. As long as the sword is in my presence and protection, how you communicate with your nation is none of my concern.”
“So be it, then,” Noa agrees quickly. “I’ll have our people show you to a room.”
You nod, and are whisked away. The throne room, as if knowingly, empties quickly, guards rushing out to leave Kaiser alone with Noa.
“You made this decision for me,” Kaiser spins to face Noa, spits his words through gritted teeth. “I have been clear. I will take no brides.”
“You believe the prophecy made a choice for you.”
“The prophecy bears no mercy. Or do you wish for my death so eagerly? If so, take your sword out and do it your damn self.”
Noa lets him speak, heave his words out until there’s silence once more.
“She cannot lie,” Noa says softly. “She cannot lie to you, Kaiser. And she is a goddess, a divine being.”
“Demigod,” Kaiser corrects.
“She is divine, and she cannot lie. She is correct, to this end – that as long as she is here, the prophecy cannot come to be. For she has not forsaken us.” Forsaken you, goes unspoken. “She could be good for you, if you allowed her to be.”
Kaiser lets out a canned laugh. “Ha. How can the divine ever understand us?”
Noa stands. “You’ll have plenty of time to find out.”
Kaiser taps his hand against his sword hilt. “You really will not move on this?”
Noa shakes his head. “She is too valuable to lose, and you have a reputation for cruelty. The solution is nothing short of perfect.”
The logical comes above his feelings. Kaiser knows this, even if he hates to come face to face with it.
Noa walks out of the throne room, leaving Kaiser to his bitterness.
“Shitty master,” he mumbles under his breath to no one.
~
It’s jarring to all the guards, the way you don’t even stand let alone bow when Noa knocks to enter your room. But Noa cares little for things like that, if you’re truly offering what you’ve said.
“Perhaps I was too hasty, in presenting the solution before giving you the facts.” He hesitates before you in the reflection of your vanity. You don’t respond, barely even look at him as you unclasp your jewelry, laying it on the table.
“He will not love you.” Noa tells you after a breath, his surefire eyes finally meeting yours.
You give him a curious gaze. “That is likely for the best. I would outlive him, after all.”
“It is, truly, on a need-to-know basis. To tell you this-”
“The prophecy, I presume you’re referring to,” you interrupt, turning to face him.
The shock rolls quickly off him. Divinity does have its mysteries, he supposes. “You already know.”
“I asked the water, why he is so quick to believe he is forsaken. They told me that he lives under the burden of a prophetic trial. That is all I know.” You stand, moving to unzip your dress only for Noa to hastily pull a partition screen across the room and turn around.
“The water, it speaks to you?”
“It does. Though it’s worth noting that it does not make me all-seeing.” Your voice carries over the partition with the ruffle of clothing. “The queen of the Gods, who sees all fates – she is the only one who is truly all-seeing.”
You come out in a nightgown, folding the partition back. He chucks you a robe that you catch easily.
“You should learn the ways of this world if you want to pass as a simple water sorceress, especially before the banquet.”
You frown. “The prince is my betrothed, is he not? Will he not handle it all?”
The idea you present sparks in Noa’s mind. “Brilliant. I’ll have Kaiser and some of the other members of our team show you the ropes. Good night, sorceress.”
You nod to him, and the door clicks shut.
~
“She’s a what?”
Oliver slams his metal cup of beer down, rolling the dice once more.
“A demigod, Oliver. Gods, are you that drunk already? Keep up.” Karasu grabs at the dice as Oliver moves his pieces.
“Can you all shut the fuck up? What happened to need-to-know basis?” Chigiri slinks himself over to their table.
“We’re need-to-know.” Karasu jabs a thumb at himself and Oliver.
“They are, actually, need-to-know.” Isagi puts a gentle hand on Chigiri’s shoulder, settling down next to him. “Because she’s never been human in her life.”
“And now we’re supposed to, what, teach her to be human? Is that a thing we can do?” Chigiri twirls a strand of hair between his fingers, tapping the end against Isagi’s cheek.
Oliver snorts. “What, like a class? Some of us have never sat in one of those, you prissy little shits.”
“She can’t dance, for one.”
“Get Kaiser to teach her. Isn’t he her betrothed?”
That has Oliver almost spitting out his drink, choking on it in coughs. “He's her what?”
Chigiri scowls in his direction. “Dude, are you listening at all?”
“If she’s really his betrothed, none of us should be teaching her.” Oliver warns genuinely. “He’ll cut down everyone here, before he lets us touch her.”
“It’s just an excuse,” Isagi waves his hand, pulling out a leather-bound bind of notes. “They’re not actually together.”
“Oh, you actually got that motion to pass. Shit.” Karasu remarks admirably.
“It must be so tiring,” Bachira sighs happily, falling into place next to Isagi, “to have to actually care about what other people think.”
“The optics, Bachira,” Isagi smacks the end of his pen across Bachira’s nose, and he makes an oh! sound in response.
When Kaiser walks in, the room almost goes silent. He’s used to it, of course. Hearing only the way his footfalls come heavy, boots thumping into the stone floor as a drink is placed right in front of him immediately.
The room slowly fills back with noise as he shoulders off his coat, wrapping it around the chair before sitting. But only his table is still strangely silent.
He flits his gaze over the group. Usually, they’re the first to kill the silence in the room, yelling about the game or a duel. He looks at Isagi, specifically, who seems the most nervous. “Something you wanna say to me?”
“Uh…”
Chigiri sighs, killing the tension. “We’re deciding who gets to teach her how to dance.”
Kaiser quirks an eyebrow. “The demigod?”
Chigiri nods, and Kaiser takes a long gulp of his drink, popping it back down and twirling the top of it with his fingers. “I’ll do it.”
“What?” It’s Isagi’s turn to be shocked, sitting up straight.
Kaiser exhales audibly. “None of you could handle her. She could cut you with water the moment you accidentally step on her.”
It’s not an insult, really. They know this too. That this is Kaiser’s brand of protection, to add insult to injury just to keep others out of harm’s way. But they play his game.
“Think we can’t dodge fast enough? A bit demeaning, don’t you think?” Oliver’s grin is wicked, making straight eye contact with Kaiser, who only draws his eyebrows in at his direction.
“You think that god-killing sword is gonna save you?” Karasu asks.
“I don’t have the sword anymore.”
“What?”
It stings more than it should, he thinks. The sword that he thought chose only him, so quickly released from his grasp. But his strength is his own, he holds fast to that.
Kaiser glances at Karasu. “Those are the terms. She marries me, she gets the sword.”
Ness rests his cheek on his hand. “Man, that sounds like she wins twice.”
Chigiri scoffs at that. “She’s a demigod. Being down here is probably like being in the sewers to her.”
Kaiser stands abruptly, pushing his drink aside, his coat billowing as he wraps it over himself once more.
“Where are you going?” Isagi yells, but he doesn’t answer.
“He gone for real?” Oliver elbows Karasu. “I’m too drunk to tell.”
“Yeah, man. He’s gone”
“Great.” Oliver slaps a piece down. “I’ll bet 50 bucks right now they get married for real.”
“What the fuck?” Chigiri tilts his head back against the wall, staring at the ceiling like it might give him some reprieve.
Karasu laughs, “Okay, I’ll play. I’ll bet 20 that they try to kill each other.”
“You’re just a hater.”
“Nah, I agree,” Reo leans back in the booth. “Kaiser’s a lot of things, but a loving husband is a bit much.”
“She’s a goddess. He’s literally already betrothed to her.” Oliver takes another swig. “Y’all ain’t gonna marry a goddess if she was given to you? Damn, put me in his place, I’ll do it right now.”
~
Kaiser trains, every morning, from sunrise to noon.
You only know because most of the rooms in the palace outlook to a self-contained field. You see him, often, because of this, even if he doesn’t speak to you. As you walk down the corridor, in your classes with Isagi about the current climate of the nations.
“It is useless for me to learn this,” you tell him. “In a few short millennia, the border of the nations will undoubtedly change. And we will have to relearn it all again. What is the use? Why war at all over something so insignificant? Just have a conversation about it.”
Isagi makes a pointed, bored expression at you for this, and then pretends like you didn’t say anything at all.
At the end of class today, you press your elbows to the open windowsill.
Kaiser is there, sparring with Ness. Ness is quick, agile, fleet-footed and runs circles around Kaiser so much so that it almost makes it difficult to keep up.
Kaiser approaches him at bone-breaking momentum, launches strike after hardened strike. He’s shirtless, bandages wrapped around the bottom of his torso, and his body is streaked with sweat. He’s strong, clearly. Broad shoulders clear now from when they were hidden under layers of clothing the first time you met him, the muscles in his arms flexing and relaxing with each step of the friendly duel, hair dipped in saltwater blue.
You know what he looks like, now. You get a sense why Fate brings you here.
He looks like a hero.
The kind that Gods covet, watch from their merry clouds. It’s no wonder that he’s burdened by a prophetic trial, with a face as cutting as his sword, his hair framing his face and flowing.
He takes one look to the side of him and his eyes find yours immediately. It must be some sort of fighter’s sense, you think. For him to have done it so easily.
You give him the space you think he might be asking for. You turn away.
~
He approaches you one night, just before sunset. Karasu had just finished an etiquette lesson with you, setting away forks and knives. Whatever he sees on Kaiser’s face makes him move quicker. He nods once to Kaiser, and then hastily leaves.
“You’ve been making yourself quite at home here, demigod.” Kaiser traces the lace outline of the tablemat, every ridge under his calloused finger.
“I vowed myself to your kingdom to the end of your life. I’m simply doing what is asked of me.”
“And you’re all ready for the banquet, I’m guessing?” The sentence is almost mocking as he approaches you.
“It’s just a ball, is it not? I’ve been told I’m just to stand there and make pleasantries.”
Kaiser chuckles, more bared teeth than sweet. “It is, arguably, the worst part of being so-called royalty.”
“You’re taking this much better than I thought you would.”
"To say no to a goddess' proposal would be the greatest blasphemy, no?"
"From what I've seen, you have not minded sacrilege much at all."
“Marriage means little to me. Disillusioned, perhaps, with the prophecy.” He waves his hand like he speaks of something meaningless. But you see it clearly. Before he had even allowed himself the thought of love, it was taken from him. “Your power is great, your presence ensures the continuation of myself as an heir and successor. Even I can reason with that.”
He's right in front of you now, so close you can feel his body warmth.
“Does it bother me?” He shrugs. “Sure. As far as I’m aware, you are no wife of mine. But a protector of this nation? For that, you are an indispensable ally.”
He looks out the window, towards a coming sunset. Something indescribable on his face, like grief and guilt all in one. He takes a deep breath in and out, inhaling the peace and exhaling the heaviness of his heart, before facing you again. “A war is coming. No one believes me, but I can feel it, as steady as a river’s current. Until then, I’ll make my peace with you.”
You nod. “So be it, your highness.”
That has him stepping back, more incredulous than you’ve ever seen him, body tensed and frowning. Maybe he should’ve expected it, given the way he’s just dismissed you. “Your highness? You hadn’t questioned my lineage before, but now you dare to do so?”
You stare at him blankly. “You are a prince, are you not? Isagi says that’s what princes are called.”
One side of his mouth upturns in relief, and he bursts out a bright laugh. “Is that what they teach you in those lessons Isagi gives? Oh,” a hand runs through the front of his hair, “I thought my own wife-to-be would dare insult me.”
You scoff. “I have no need for that.”
“The title ‘your highness’ doesn’t apply to this nation because strength is valued most. I am heir to the throne not because of the blood running through my veins, but because Noa deemed I the strongest — not just in body but in mind, not just in physical strength but in adaptability.” He says it proudly, like fact, like a knowing so deep within him that it turns pride into faith. “A title like that is something used by the Itoshi brothers, let’s say,” he comments airily. “Their throne is carried by a bloodline.”
He turns on his heel, only looking back when he realizes you don’t follow.
“You don’t know how to dance yet, do you?”
You lean your hip against the table. “I can dance.”
“Come, then. If you’re to be my wife, it’ll be an embarrassment if you don’t at least act like it.”
You follow him to a ballroom – a stunning, wide area with a looping chandelier, curtains that weigh down in arches over each floor-to-ceiling window.
He swoops you from your distraction with a hand around your waist, and the physical contact shocks you so greatly that orbs of water swirl in your hands.
Kaiser only raises an eyebrow at you. “This is a dance, not a duel. Or do the gods do it differently?”
For a man who was so passive to you, he holds you so close that your chest to chest, you can feel each breath he takes against you. When he steps with you, his movements are slow and deliberate, never inefficient. He moves not with fluidity, but with each sure step. Pulls you forward, then pushes you back. Circles you, spins you around.
It’s exactly like when you see him train. Like steps to a kata.
“I thought you said this was not a duel.”
“These are steps to a classic waltz, demigod.”
“You have no fluidity to you.”
Kaiser scoffs. “Should I apologize? With the prophetic curse hanging above me, I haven’t taken a dancing class.”
“It doesn’t have to be.”
“Hm?”
“The prophecy. It doesn’t have to be a curse.”
He stops, separating himself from you, scowling.
“This session is over.”
“Kaiser-,”
“What?” He snaps. “You, of divine nature. You want to tell me how to view my prophecy?”
“I do not say this out of pity, or out of some sort of higher knowing.” You say it with conviction. “As heir to the throne, a throne that is currently being held by Fate itself, maybe I shouldn’t be saying this at all.”
“And yet?”
“To know your fate is to be able to defy it.” And maybe it’s just an effect of your divinity, but it rings like a bell, like truth itself. “Your prophecy may have made a wound, but you are the one who cuts it open. You are a man who wields a sword that cannot, should not be able to be wielded by anyone but the divine. Does that not say something? About you, about your capabilities?”
“And yet you took it from me.”
The silence that follows is thick with indecision. Kaiser lets the uncomfortableness sit, rejects every heartwarmed statement you make with a roll of his shoulders, like water off a smoothened rock, replaced with only his anger. “I trained for weeks before I could lift that sword out of the riverbank. Yet it is yours, now, simply because you are supposedly its rightful owner.”
Conflict runs through your face so clearly, he wonders that even if you could lie, whether it would mean anything at all. He watches as your hand reaches into a conjured puddle of water that floats in the air, and out comes the divine sword.
You hold it in your hand with an ease that he has spent months capturing. It strikes envy in him like a branded sear.
“My role here is technically to secure the sword. I have no need to wield it.” You hold it at the bottom of its handle, directing the top of it to him. “If you swear you won’t lose her, I can set a compromise of sorts.”
“You think I’d agree to a compromise?”
You open up your palm, and a bracelet appears. “This will help you keep the sword in a pocket dimension we can both access. If you’re willing to place it there to secure it when you’re not using it, I’ll return her to you until the end of your line.”
Huh. A safe-keeping place is a more neutral proposition than he had thought you’d come up with. To have her back kills the fight in him, and he accepts begrudgingly, testing the magic in his hands until it becomes natural.
“For the record, Kaiser, I have not always been worthy of it.”
Something about the way his name slips off your lips has him keening. “Worthy?”
“I stayed true to my course. I was given a title. And then I could wield the sword, presented to me by my queen.”
“Your queen. Heir to the throne.” He laughs bitterly, knowingly. “You’re a princess.”
“Despite your mocking tone, I’ll have you know that title of mine is of the highest regard. I don’t take it nearly as lightly as you do with yours.”
“That’s why you didn’t bow or kneel. You take what’s meant to be yours without a second thought. Not because you’re unknowing, or because of some godly pride, but because you have never been lesser.” He flicks a finger between your eyebrows. “What a spoiled thing you are. Can you even fight?”
Something in Kaiser takes pride in the way you frown more deeply, it’s almost like a pout. It’s almost…
“Well, I definitely wasn’t sitting idly in the war between Gods.”
“I’ve never seen you train.”
“That’s because you’re always on the training grounds.”
“Oh? You won’t show me?”
“I’m giving you space. I’m no wife of yours, no?” There’s a sting to it when you say it, having his words thrown back at him.
“Duel with me. Tomorrow.” He spins you, lets you out of his hold before bringing you back in.
~
He begins to meet you, day after day. A duel first, and then a dance. The dichotomy would be distasteful to any other, but you of divine blood do not even flinch at his request.
He may be displeased to have you, but his mouth cracked as wide and wicked as a cat’s at the prospect of a fight.
“Go on, then.” He takes a blunt, wooden sword, throwing it in your direction. “Or do you only fight with magic?” He teases.
You swing the sword, rotating your wrist with ease. “Do you forget yourself, prince? I am half divine, you will surely lose. Are you sure you want to go through with this anyways?”
His mouth widens, more teeth than smile. “Bring it.”
You know, the moment you defend against his first strike, that a singular hit from him on the battlefield must be deadly. He is surefooted, his whole weight bears down in every move. He doesn’t let you breathe once, much faster than you would’ve thought with someone of his size and height.
Kaiser was almost right about one thing, that the divine adds to your magic more than your physical strength. With enough training, in just simple hand-to-hand combat… He might have the potential to beat you.
But not today. Today, you have him pinned to the ground, makeshift blade to his throat.
“You’re awfully close,” he gasps out slyly. And it’s in this moment that you notice, too, how right he is about that, how you can feel his heartbeat underneath yours, his chest against yours with each exhale.
“What?” He grins wide, “afraid you’ll miss?”
By all the Gods, you want to knock the living daylights out of him. He notices your anger in that hesitation, your conflict between doing what is right and what you want, and flips you over, swapping your positions until his hips are pressed against yours.
Something about your shell-shocked face makes him stir.
“First rule of fighting, sweetheart,” he runs a hand through his hair before planting it next to your head, leaning into you close. “Never get distracted by your opponent.”
He’s closer than he was before, admiring the way you look under him, your hair splayed along the ground and the sweet fire of irritation in your eyes. Is the heaving of your chest from your anger towards him, or from something else entirely?
“When Gods fight, there is not nearly as much prattling.” You grit at him. He smells like the grass of the field and the winter air and the heavy musk of sweat, and when you shove him off, it feels like your hand meets the hard rock of an unruly ocean.
~
It is during dances that he speaks to you. Not at first, but slowly, like a river that streams into the ocean. You tell him tales about the Gods, about your friends, about wars and petty arguments. And he starts to answer you, more often than not, with every question you might have.
“I have wondered about something.”
“Hm?”
“The sheathing. It prevents even me from detecting the sword’s divinity.”
“Huh, so Nagi really wasn’t lying.”
“Nagi, who is always with Reo?”
Kaiser nods. “They say Nagi was once sought upon by a god for his talents, a god who was constantly sending him dreams. But he grew tired of it, so he found a material that prevents even the gods from finding him so he can sleep in peace.”
The conversation often leads to the prophecy, a bitterness like licorice on his tongue. Even if he skates around the topic, you don’t let him hide from it, cutting straight to the heart of the truth.
“You can live in the cold bitterness you’ve put yourself in, Kaiser,” you tell him, one of these nights. “Or you can live, and maybe even possibly die, warmed by a life you truly felt was worth living. Your own choices. Not because of a prophecy, or because of Noa, or even in spite of me.”
But despite it, he doesn’t move away. Because it is the only time he has you to himself. He sees you, always, with Isagi and Oliver and Karasu and Chigiri. How you have molded into their lives with simplicity, sit with them at meals and have easy conversation despite knowing nothing, in a way that he has never once allowed himself to enjoy. What does it say about Kaiser? That he can't stand your presence but he can't stand your absence even more? That he would rather have a biting argument with you than leave you to your own devices?
It's during duel and dance that he comes as close as he can to touching you. If he did anymore, it would become something he doesn't have the heart to name without unease settling in his gut.
~
On the day of the banquet, Chigiri sits you down in your vanity, braiding your hair back in his hands.
“The queen of the Gods, her lover, a friend of mine… He used to do this for me too.”
Chigiri silently appreciates that you don’t ask him why it is him that helps you with this. That divinity doesn’t hold the same notions this world does.
“He would-,” you laugh softly to yourself. You’re stunning like this, Chigiri can’t help but notice. A goddess, most casual as can be. “He would say that I was useless at it, actually. You two might’ve been good friends.”
“Me? Friends with a god?” Chigiri finishes the braid, tilting your head in his hands to admire the way the braid crowns around each side.
“Of the Fae, actually. A beautiful man he is. You would fit right in.”
That stops Chigiri, has him taking a sharp intake of breath, smiling at you through the vanity’s reflection. “Thank you, princess. Though you would do good to be more careful during this banquet to compliment anyone.”
You smile softly back. “Ah, yes, my betrothed who will not love me might get jealous. Gods are not so different than people, in this regard.”
“Is that so…”
~
It’s when you meet the Itoshi brothers at the banquet that you begin to understand why Isagi gave you all these lessons.
Where Kaiser is muscle and sword first, more fighter than prince, Sae and Rin are the opposite. They have a grace befitting of royalty. Instead of heavy footfalls that you can hear even in the blanket of snow, they are light-footed, conscious of it in the echoed ballroom.
Though you suspect, from the way Sae grips Kaiser’s forearm as they shake hands, from the way Kaiser regards Sae, that he is somehow just as strong of a fighter. That royalty is an illusion Sae and Rin put on, for peace’s sake.
Something indescribable flits over Sae’s face as you curtsy in front of him, but it’s gone in a moment, replaced with his nonchalance.
“The betrothed of the banquet. We are most pleased to make your acquaintance.” Sae bows his head to you, and Rin follows in his stead.
You smile, something beaming and sweet. “The pleasure is all mine.”
“Would you mind, Kaiser?” Sae’s eyes only leave yours for a glance, to check in at Kaiser’s now furrowed look. “I’d like to take your wife-to-be for a dance.”
Kaiser’s back straightens, a hardened gaze with gritted teeth. But he says nothing. You swear Sae almost grins.
“I’ll return her back to you.” He says it like a favor, and Kaiser is only held back by Karasu’s hand on his shoulder.
“It’s just one dance, Kai,” Kaiser looks at Karasu, then to you, and then back to Sae. He barely nods once.
“Are you sure?” You ask him.
He scowls. “What do I have to be worried about?”
Well, it’s not like you want to anger him further. You let Sae take your hand, leading you to the floor.
“I almost didn't think you were who you said you were, when I saw you,” Sae tells you, breaking the quiet of the dance.
You lean back so you can see his whole face, your confusion clear. “Your highness?”
“When I had heard of you, they told me that waves flowed off your dress like water itself holds you sacred. Yet here you are, as regular as can be.”
Sae twirls you away from him, then brings you back into his arms. “They say you shook the earth with a single step. Where is all that power you were said to hold?” He holds you close, watching your every reaction with his crystal gaze. “This place. They’ve placated you, tamed you.”
He brings his mouth to your ear, the body warmth of his entire chest seeping into yours. “If you were mine, I would never force you into a box you didn’t belong. I’m not afraid of you. I’m not afraid of Kaiser, even with his god-killing sword.” He spins you again, capturing your waist. “If you were mine, I wouldn’t be afraid to demonstrate your power to the world.”
“Sae.” He looks at you in a way that feels meaningful. You don’t know the pleasantries of this nation or his in-depth, but you know, somehow, that this feels like this is something you should shield from.
“Oh? No honorifics already? We’re that intimate, are we?”
To fight is one thing, but this is something entirely different. Being able to hurt others with a play instead of a sword, you’re not sure if you can shield others from something like that.
As the song ends, Sae takes your hand, brings it to his mouth to kiss the back of it. “Consider my proposition, princess. Before your marriage solidifies, and becomes something you can’t escape from.”
With his hand on the small of your waist, he brings you back to Kaiser dutifully. Kaiser links his arm with yours immediately, before any of you can spare a goodbye.
“What did he say to you?”
You hum. You get the sense that maybe…
“Nothing of importance,” you tell him instead.
“Hm?” He tilts your chin up to meet you eye to eye. “Is my own betrothed keeping secrets from me?”
“He said I don’t seem all that powerful.”
That makes Kaiser smile, not something sweet but with teeth bared, like a wolf. “He hasn’t seen you in action.” He pulls you in, hand wrapping to the back of your neck, a slow and deep whisper. “Do you want to show them?”
“Weren’t we both told that’s inappropriate? Isagi said the optics could make your allies scared.”
Kaiser rolls his eyes. “Isagi this, optics that. Our country has always been about the brawl and brave. Let the nations fear us, then. I, with my cruelty and a god-killing sword. You, a sorceress second to none. It’s a pretty picture, is it not?”
He straps his sword to his back and brings you to the middle of the room, and as the guests of honor, the crowd gives you both a wide berth. He circles you, just like you practiced. Makes you center stage.
“Go on then, princess.” He lets go of your hand and bows, sweeping his arm out. “Show us who you really are.”
“Kaiser,” you whisper. “We have very clear orders-”
“I make the orders, not follow them. So make your choice, princess. Wasn’t it you who said that it is worth living a life warmed by your own choices? Tell me, then. Do you want to show them? Or do you want to play nice?”
This play, to have ego and pride dive head-first into a situation, is so very human. And yet-
You let water overcast your body from your waist, let it roll off in layers like waves into the floor. Anyone who has had experience with magic can see your ultimate control over it, how the floor isn’t wet at all, how the water was conjured from nothing. Your hair is silken with dampness, framing your face like gloss. Gasps and awes from the audience makes Kaiser grin even wider.
“There we go.” Kaiser reaches behind him to unsheath his blade, and the galaxy within swirls. He spins it in his hand, and it’s almost like he’s never been happier.
In seconds, he strikes at you. Your hands move up instinctively, blocking the blade with a stream of water. The sound it makes, divinity against divinity, is like a low bell. The floor beneath you shakes with the strength of the strike, water dispersing around your feet in cascades to cushion the impact. You hear screams of shock, a glass breaking.
“Kaiser,” you grit, but all he does is widen that wicked, quicksilver grin.
And then he laughs, stepping away and sheathing the blade back. He holds one hand out to you instead.
“Next time, I want a duel in front of everyone. But this time, I guess a dance will suffice.”
You exhale gratefully, taking his hand in yours and retracting your water. “Let us dance, then.”
And with none of a prince’s grace, with movements that feel more fight than dance, he drifts along the floor with you.
~
Isagi collapses into the booth, a palm pressed to his eyebrows. “Our allies thought they were about to fight each other.”
“Can I cash in on my bet now?” Karasu rolls a skewer stick between his fingers. “Because they might’ve almost killed each other.”
“Nah,” Oliver leans back. “I think that’s just foreplay.”
Isagi opens his eyes to find Chigiri and Bachira standing before the booth. Chigiri’s not meeting his eyes, his mouth perching to one side in a way that squishes one of his cheeks.
“What happened?”
“They’re gone.”
“Ha?”
“We had one drink. One.”
Oliver has the audacity to laugh, hand over his mouth. “Don’t worry, Isagi,” he pats him on the back. “I’m sure they’re just fucking around.”
In another corner of the hall, royals speak in low tones.
“We can just take her if you like her,” Shidou tells Sae with the sweetest smile a man like that can muster. “No need to ask poor little Kai-Kai.”
Sae says nothing, eyeing you quietly as you step out of the hall.
~
You are sitting at the edge of the ocean, letting the slate-crested waves wash over you, when he finds you.
“You can dry me in a moment’s notice if I am to sit with you, right?” He says it almost reluctantly, even though he’s here anyways. He’s dropped his off coat somewhere along the way, and there’s something so naked about seeing him in just a shirt. He almost seems softer, without the harsh lines of battle-ready clothing or the fur that drapes around him, relaxed in a way he wasn’t in the banquet hall.
You smile. “I can keep you dry whilst you're sitting.”
He relents, then. Allowing the strangeness of sitting on wet sand without getting wet.
“Was the banquet up to your expectations, then, Kaiser?”
Expectations. He’s had none of a party like this. Being allowed to dream is a privilege, and privileges were not granted to him.
“You are officially my wife-to-be,” he says instead. “Shouldn’t you call me something a little more intimate?”
You gaze out into the horizon for a moment, and something in your eyes unfocuses, like you’ve gone somewhere else and then returned. “Very well. I shall call you Mihya.”
It strikes a chord in him, like a teaspoon hitting a glass. “Mihya? Where did that come from?”
“The water.”
“She speaks to you?”
“She says in another life, you are given a nickname like that.”
“Another life…” He lies down in the sand, watches the streaks of sunset in the blueing sky.
“Ask then, Mihya,” you lean over him slightly, until all he can see is the sky and the way your features soften. “The question we both know is on your mind.”
He almost wants to reach out, hold your cheek in his hand. It’s a foreign feeling to him, so foreign it almost feels like unease – to want to extend a gentleness like that to another person. “Won’t you just tell me?”
You breathe in the sea-salt air, and breathe out a heart-warmed truth. “The prophecy does not hold you captive in another life.”
Kaiser, for once, lets himself dream. Of a different life, where he is unburdened by a prophecy, and burns brightly.
~
“It would seem strange if you weren’t together, with all the other guests in the palace.” That’s what Oliver tells you as he gestures for you to take his arm, leading you to Kaiser’s room.
It’s both plainer and more furnished than you thought, like someone who isn’t him had chosen the furniture and the color of the walls. But the items in the bookshelves seem well-loved, items taken out and put back haphazardly, scrolls and books placed back half-way. The bathroom door opens with a flood of light.
“You’re here.” It’s rare to shock Kaiser in a way that doesn’t make him immediately reach for his sword.
You turn to look at him, taking in his half-dressed state. “Were you expecting some other woman?”
“Oh, so you’re the jealous type?”
He almost wants to laugh at the clear discomfort on your face. Gods don’t tease, he’s guessing?
The bed gives way to you as you take your place. “I hear it’s common for princes to take many lovers.”
The moonlight spills over the bedsheets as the room darkens, and you summon the sword to float right above you, looking into it. He joins you, wanting to see exactly what you’re seeing.
“It’s not a night sky.” Your voice is so soft in the blanket of night between you both.
“Hm?”
“Inside the sword. Your people say it looks like the night sky. It’s not. It’s a galaxy.”
He reaches his hand out, tracing over the glass along the middle of the weapon, a silent remark for you to continue.
“At the beginning of all worlds, the first-ever contract was made between the first-ever forces, and with it, this sword was said to be conjured out of the galaxy. And so, a part of the galaxy at the beginning of all worlds was contained in this sword.”
The stars in the sword move within like they’re responding to your words, borne witness to all the events. But instead of watching them, you turn to him.
“You have held and wielded a primordial piece of this world. It has allowed you to hold it, granted you its blessing.”
Blessed. That is not a phrase Kaiser would have ever used to describe himself. But coming from you, he can almost believe it. Almost hope to have a little more than he’s ever had.
The sword disappears with a movement of his hand, and he rolls to lean over you. Silence drops like a curtain. The only sound he knows is your breath and his.
During a fight, his feelings can almost be mistaken for adrenaline. But even under the shadow of the moon, with the cushioned silence between you both, the way you cut straight to the truth rings like a silver bell.
He can’t hide from you. Or maybe. Maybe he’s tired of hiding at all.
He is a man who has only known war and battle, was born and bred into it. War-forged, is what they call men like him. His hands know weapons, know how to kill.
He does not know if they know how to love. And yet-
He cups your face, and drinks you in.
He kisses you with caution, like you might melt from his grasp if he held too tightly. Presses his lips against yours slowly. He runs his hand gently over your hairline as he parts from you.
Is this okay? He wants to ask. But instead, he says: “Tell me what you want.”
You wrap your arms around his neck, your lips brushing against yours when you answer: “You.”
And then he kisses you like a man starved, never known by this feeling that gets caught up in his throat with every noise of yours he swallows.
“Is this… is this what you want?” You try to ask as you part from him for air, but he presses his mouth to the space behind your ear instead, laying kisses down your neck. “Is this a decision that you are making for yourself, by your own hands? That is entirely for you?”
That makes him stop. But when he looks at you with a surefire gaze…
He knows it, undoubtedly. That this, for once, is his.
“There are no lovers,” he tells you between kisses, to your shoulder, down your collarbone, to your breastbone.
“What?”
“I take no lovers.” He unclasps your bra, lets the material fall from his hands to cup your supple flesh. “I’ve never been princely, after all.”
“You- Kai-”
He runs his thumbs across both your nipples, admires how they perk up at his administrations, flitting his gaze between them and your face as he brings his mouth down over one of them.
He presses kisses down your body, cups your heat in his hand like he’s begging you to respond, like he’s saying let me have this. The inside of your thighs is soft as cream under his calloused hands. His thumb moves along the outside of your underwear, from your slit up to your clit with his fingers pressing tentatively against the fabric until you’re grabbing at his wrist.
“You’re so tense,” he teases, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Want me to take care of that for you?” He runs the knuckles of his hand over your clothed slit, bumping into your clit with his thumb until your breathing gets heavy, your hands gripping his shoulders.
“Kaiser,” you breathe, and he clicks his tongue.
“That’s not what you call me, baby. Not anymore.”
“Mihya.”
“Mm,” he slides his fingers into your panties from the side, a huff of breath leaves him at the wetness he finds. “Good girls get rewarded, you know?”
Heat coils hot deep in your stomach. He can’t take the restriction, pulling your panties down and revealing your core to the cold air. He lets his slickness pool on his fingers, collects it before bringing it to your clit. It’s like a drug, watching the way your face gives way to pleasure, how your body arches into him.
“Mihya,” you gasp again, like a chant, a prayer. Is this what the gods feel like, to be asked of?
“Let me watch,” he says it like a demand but it aches with desperation, a thing he won’t admit outside these four walls. He presses with more confidence now, slides one finger into you, then two. There’s little resistance with the way he’s riled you up, long fingers pressing into you until he reaches something that has you making a broken moan so pretty he can’t help but tilt into it again.
“I want to see it,” he tells you. This is something he makes happen to you, with his own hands, his own words, his own body that shares its heat with yours. That notion alone runs arousal straight through him. Your panting breath, the way your body shakes with each swipe against your clit.
“I want to see you fall apart in my arms.” He whispers, and you respond in kind. You always do to him, don’t you? He’s been seen too surely by you, now it’s his turn. Your body tenses entirely, tightly, gripping him as he grants you reprieve. A soft whine leaves your mouth along with something like his name, and the rough pad of his thumb circles over your clit until you crash, coming around his fingers.
He swipes a thumb over your cheek, allows himself the gentleness that he’s held back for so long with you.
“One more, okay?”
Your eyes widen. “Mihya,” this time it’s like a warning, but the way you say his name is so breathy it has him pressing a hand over his pants.
“Yeah, say my name just like that.” He shuffles down until his mouth is pressing to your stomach, just above your mound. Then again to the inside of your knee, trailing up until the inside of your thigh, his breath ghosting over the sensitive skin there.
“You’re-, wait, we just- I just”
“Mm, and you’re gonna give me one more.” He kisses your clit first, like a promise, and then he laps at your core generously, from the bottom of your slit all the way to your clit, his flat tongue against the whole of you. Every drop of slick from your previous orgasm is taken in by him with each moan he makes against your core. If he had known this feeling was going to enter his life, that it would’ve felt like this, maybe he would’ve readied himself better for it. Instead, he finds himself starving at the table where it’s served. The taste of you on his tongue wraps him in a heady pleasure, but it’s every sound he takes out of you that has him pressing a little more insistently, tongue laving over you.
“Pl-please,” your words break between gasps, and it has him lapping into your clit with more pressure.
“I can never say no to you, can I?” he mumbles between your legs. And then he’s flipping you over, hoisting you onto your knees and skimming his hands over your rear and thighs before diving in again. Your face is pressed into the pillow, hands grabbing the sheets. Kaiser almost seems dazed as he moans into your cunt, swollen and wet like a siren’s call, hands wrapped so tightly around your plush thighs that it feels like it might bruise.
“Let me taste,” he mutters, mouth still lodged into your cunt, like that isn’t what he’s already doing. “Come on baby, give it to me. Let me taste it on my tongue.”
Your hole clenches and flutters around nothing as another orgasm rocks through you, your breath coming short as you break apart on his tongue with a whine.
He flips you over again, and the look on his face takes your breath away. Your slick shimmers on his mouth as he trails his tongue over his lips, like he’s addicted, like he can’t get enough. He tilts his head with a grin so cocky that if you weren’t so blissed out you might just punch him.
“There something you want, pretty?” He leans over you, hand to the bedpost, and how broad and tall he is becomes that much more obvious. You let yourself look, at the way his tattoo drapes over his arm, run your hands over the muscle of his torso down to his v-line. You hear a sharp intake of breath as your hand moves lower, running under his loose sleep pants to the base of his cock.
He grabs your hand in his, bringing it over your head and circling both your wrists. “Ask.”
“You-,” your eyes narrow and you huff at him, but it only makes him smile. “Won’t you just-”
“Nuh-uh.”
“I could cut you down here.”
He drops his pants, pumping his cock once and then sliding it along your slit. “You could. And then who’ll give you what you want?”
You want to roll your eyes, but then he has one hand tapping against your clit, the other gripping either side of your cheeks.
“You begged so pretty for me earlier when I had my mouth on you,” he rasps. “What happened to that?”
The harsh look you give him under those fluttering lashes of yours makes something stir in his gut, arousal shot through his veins, pupils wide. He plays with you, warm hands against your skin and between your legs, the soft skin of his cock sliding between your thighs until you’re gasping in his hold again, grinning like a battle won.
“Please, Mihya,” you sigh.
“Mhmm. Please what?”
“Please- please fuck me.”
He gets off on it, watching you yield to him, spreading your legs, dripping your hot slick onto his cock. He presses the head against you, petaled folds opening up to receive him as he slides into you slowly. Just the first few inches is so thick inside of you that your hands wrap around the muscles of his arms, nails digging in.
“Shh, baby, you can take it,” he hushes your little whines, tracing your hairline with such gentleness it contradicts the way he pulls out of you just slightly only to push in again.
“You’re- oh,” your body gives into him, even more so when he brings his hand down to tap on your clit, his mouth over your neck, to the side of your mouth, until he’s kissing you and taking in every noise you make. It’s almost a distraction, helps your body to relax so he can press into you deeper. You think you feel every inch as it enters you, all the way until the hilt, until the head is pressing deep inside of you and his hips meet yours.
He lets out a rough, deep moan against the expanse of your neck, breath coming short as your walls tighten around him.
“Fuck, baby. You gotta let me move.” Your arms wrap around him tighter, a whimper falling from your lips as he tilts his hips up to plunge into you again. It’s hard and slow and deep and if it wasn’t for his grip on you, you might’ve hit the headboard. But he’s careful about it – more than you might’ve thought he’d be. Pressing your body into the bed as his hips meet yours again and again.
“It feels so good,” you tell him, and it has him pressing a kiss to your cheek in return. Makes every moan you make that much sweeter, to know it’s out of your pleasure, to know it’s because of him.
“Good girl. Tell me again.”
“Feels- you’re so big, so- please, I need-” Your walls can barely clench down onto him with how he feels inside of you. Chest to chest with him, the contact of skin on skin-
“You drive me insane,” he grumbles it into your skin; a confession, exacerbated with each thrust of his hips as he picks up the speed, until he’s slamming into you with a kind of strength that has you seeing constellations behind your eyes. He wants you- needs you to feel the way he feels. Needs to have you lying in his bed, thinking only of him and how he makes you feel. Heat pools in your core until you’re arching your back, and he knows it now – knows it like the back of his hand.
“Give it to me.” It’s a command, a need, if you listen closely enough. “Come around my cock. Show me.”
“Mihya, it’s so much, it’s so so much.” It’s treacherous, the way it works through your body, being on the brink.
His thumb is slick over your clit, pressing just a little more, until your thighs are tightening under his unrelenting body. “Come for me.”
You chant his name until the words start to become nothing in your mouth, until you’re breathless, until your whole body tenses under him and his hold against you gets that much rougher and your walls clamp down and then your body shakes as you come. You almost scream, only silenced by his lips on yours. He comes quickly after that, his eyes never leaving yours, taking in how you look underneath him as his cock gets more sensitive and paints the inside of your walls. He doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow until he feels your body start to relax under his.
You can barely process coming down as he’s kissing you again, deeply and with force, like he’s etching the memory of you into his mind and onto your lips.
For once, he lets himself recognize – how tiring the emptiness has been, to be devoid of this feeling and instead be filled with the fear that it’ll be turned against him. For once, he lets himself feel – to have something that is wholly his. to know and be known. To give and know you will receive. Not an offering at an altar but a hand in his, not a prayer but a soft word spoken in return. Kaiser does not want something as untouching as approval or attention from the divine. But he does want your waist in his arms, your forehead against his.
“Just like this,” he whispers it, a kiss placed to your forehead. You don’t know what he means, too tired to ask.
This is exactly what he’s always wanted. Just like this.
~
Not unlike a parent, Noa notices the closeness of your relationship. In touch, in stolen glances, in longing. A private conversation with him over afternoon tea is not unique, but the heaviness that weighs on him is.
“As the goddess who cannot lie, I have to ask you.” The hardened look on his face makes you straighten your back, putting down your teacup. “You know, that I have to ask.”
Silence sits between you both like a shoe about to drop.
Noa yields. “Has he truly been forsaken by all the gods?”
You are strangely silent as you look at him, then away, then back.
“Answer me, demigod.”
“I don’t know.”
“What?”
“I. Don’t. Know. I have told you before, that I am not a seer, or an oracle. Water holds memory. I can see the past, I can even see other lives parallel to ours, but I cannot see the future. This is the limit of my power.”
“You are of divine nature.”
“I had said what I said at our first meeting, and that has not changed. As long as I am here, the Gods have not forsaken him. For I have not forsaken him. Is that not enough? How many Gods would travel to your realm, vow themselves to a human kingdom? Even if it is I alone that stands before you, is that not enough?”
Noa sighs, more exasperated than you’ve ever seen a serious man like him. “He deserves more, that boy. For what he has been put through.”
“All greatness comes with a price. All heroes face tragedy. He, no matter how much you may care for him, is not the exception to that.” You tilt your head, like a cat with curiosity. But unlike that sweetness, your words are cutting. “You made him a ruler. You made him a hero. So, stand by that. Or does it make you uncomfortable? To consider the role you, too, have played in his life?”
Noa, of course, has thought about this too. Had he not chosen Kaiser to rule, would he have had the prophecy weighing on him like a second shadow?
“If the prophecy holds true, you will inevitably leave him.” Noa swallows, hand flat against the table. “He will inevitably be forsaken, even by you.”
“Then why,” you ask, genuinely, “did you ask me to stay?”
~
In the weeks that follow, you learn exactly why. Like Kaiser had predicted, talk of battle comes.
“We suspect a neighboring nation wishes to wage war with us.” Noa looks out to the slate-blue ocean from the window of the war room.
“A man who wants control of this whole world,” Karasu huffs. “There’s never a lack of them, is there?”
“He thinks himself a god. Or that’s what Sae has told us.”
“You’re sure Sae’s information checks out?”
“Shidou and Otoya like to visit neighboring nations for uh… fun, let’s say,” Chigiri rolls his eyes, then plants his face in his hands. “He said something along the lines of “you don’t wanna know how they found out” and “Shidou sleeps with both men and women, so it’s been cross-checked too.””
“And then we asked him about war,” Isagi throws his notes down on the table. “He said, and I quote, ‘I already have more land than I know what to do with. What could another few acres give me? What a hassle.’”
“The enemy are bold to come for us first.” Kaiser frowns considerably. They are possibly the one nation blasphemous enough that would not blink at the thought of fighting a god. “There’s something we’re not seeing.”
Isagi nods in agreement. “We still don’t know the reason they’re coming here first. It could be the sword, or the goddess.” Isagi frowns. “I told you not to make a scene at the banquet.”
Kaiser gives him a curious look with a smile he fails to hide. “The point of a banquet is to wow the people. The people were wowed, were they not?”
“It could be, it could not be,” Noa kills the conflict there. “That information would have been made public regardless of the spectacle. It could even simply be the throne itself they seek. An army like ours could parade into the neighboring nations and lay waste, our people are used to much harsher weathers.”
“Or maybe he means to make a statement,” Karasu shrugs. “If he wants to be a god, maybe he means to punish the disrespect we’ve shown.”
“What do we actually know?” Chigiri taps the map of this nation splayed across the table.
“We know he wants to take control of this world, and we know his plan includes something from us.”
“He knows once he controls the world, he has to take care of it, right?” Oliver rests his jaw in his hand. “As in, it’s not just about buying the house, it’s about cleaning it too. The plan – it has to be bigger than this, no?”
“Won’t happen once we kill him here. So as far as we know, there are three things we have that he could want: the sword, the goddess, the army.” Chigiri holds up his fingers as he counts.
“So we’ll meet him with all three at the front lines. Fear does not wield us, after all. Only strength.” Kaiser says it like a mantra. You suspect it might be exactly that.
~
“What a pleasant surprise to see you again so soon, princess.”
As an ally, Sae arrived on the day of battle without question. He is much different from the first time you saw him, chainmail armor wraps tight and sleek around his body, clearly of a weight underneath his clothing. He stands straighter, shoulders broader, badges clipped to his outer jacket. It’s clear to anyone who looks at him, that it’s almost like he was born into them – meant for them.
“You’re both on the front lines then?”
“Idle hands,” Kaiser starts.
“Devil’s workshop.” You finish. You hear a horse galloping, then a voice.
“There’s something wrong.” The people give a wide berth as Oliver arrives, with a sleek black mare that’s obedient as can be. “The majority of the enemies’ troops are not in front of us.”
All of you turn to look, but it’s on the front lines that makes it most difficult to tell where the crowd begins and ends.
“I did a rough head count from the tower. This isn’t the count we had observed just the other day. They’ll die easily, like this, against us. And I don’t mean that from an egotistical standpoint. I think these men are here to die, meant to die. It serves to mean –”
“This is a distraction.”
Karasu appears at your side, with an utmost silence only he is capable of. “They’re headed for the main castle, from around the edge of the border.”
You and Kaiser look to each other with a whole silent conversation, and Sae sighs.
“Go on, then.”
You turn to Sae immediately, with a seriousness he doesn’t expect. “You’ll be unprotected.”
“We chopped liver to you, girl?” Shidou sneers.
Oliver drops down from his horse. “I’ll take over here.”
“Your care for me is truly touching, princess,” Sae’s voice lilts touchingly, almost revealing how much he likes it. “But you swore a vow to this kingdom, so go fulfill it.”
Even in the middle of a war, it gets Kaiser all worked up, his chin jutting as you both run back to the palace. But Sae understands duty, stands by it. It’s what makes him worthy of his own title in his own kingdom.
Oliver waits until you’re both out of sight before turning to Sae. “Did you really plan to steal her?”
“Well,” Sae shrugs. “Did you plan on letting her go so easily?”
~
Your water runs in cascading waves through the whole of the palace, like the ocean itself comes rushing through the walls. It knocks all the soldiers down as you and Kaiser run through, and he picks up any stragglers with ease.
“The throne room?” Kaiser slams the hilt of his sword into the guy behind him, and he collapses instantly.
“It is the safest room.”
“That makes no sense. If you knew anything about our people, you’d know we never hide ourselves there in a battle.”
“Go anyways,” you tell him, as another man gets thrown off his feet. “Go, Kaiser!”
He takes one final look at you, at the strength that you hold in your hands, and then he runs.
The man he finds sitting on the throne has black hair cut blunt to his chin, a white mask over one side of his face. Kaiser unsheathes his sword, pointed straight and true.
“That throne doesn’t belong to you.”
“It will. Along with that sword you’re holding.”
Kaiser chuckles, the kind that has madness interlaced in it. “If you wanted the sword so bad, you could’ve asked for a one-on-one combat duel. I haven’t had a satisfying fight in a long time, I’d be happy to lay the sword as a winning prize.”
What must be the man’s most elite fighters drop down from the ceiling, crowding in on all sides.
“Ah, I see,” Kaiser stands straighter, reaching behind him to unsheath his second sword. “It is your capabilities that do not match mine.”
When they come for him, it’s clear to even the heavens that he is exactly as he is fated – a force to be reckoned with. He moves like a spider-spun silken web, capturing each of them blow by blow. His swords cut like butter through them with impressive speed and strength. His breath comes fast and hard when he finishes, sweat dripping down his back.
“I see now, prince,” the man approaches him, and it’s closer up that he realizes he’s simply in a suit, no armor. “Why they praise you, despite your blasphemy. You, a prince famous for cursing divinity at a whim’s notice, are a powerful ally. Kneel before me, then, and I’ll cease this all – let you join our cause in a war against the gods, in stealing their divinity from them. I’ll even forgive this transgression of bedding one.”
“Me? Kneel?” The canned laugh that Kaiser lets out echoes. “I kneel to no god, let alone a man who wants to become one.”
“So be it, then.”
Kaiser hears something above him. By the gods, what’s with this guy and ceilings? Is that why he wants to fight here? A dust of something shimmers down, he pulls his cloak over himself-
From the doorway, you throw your water across the room, shielding Kaiser from whatever it may have been. And in the same moment, a poof of shimmer bursts over your own head and tumbles down around you.
“That’s the problem with you gods, isn’t it? You always think you’re infallible.”
You cough, falling to one of your knees. Dread fills inside of you, like a faucet you can’t turn off. You can’t move. How is that possible?
The man taps two fingers to the top of your head, and your world goes dark.
~
When you blink your eyes open, the first thing you’re aware of is the way your vision swims. Your mind feels clouded, stuffed with cotton. You press your palm to your head, and even that feels muted.
“I’ve made her mine now. She’ll do exactly what I say. Does that make you upset?” Is what you think you hear, through the ringing of your ears. “Let’s see you put that god-killing sword to good use then, shall we?”
“It’s. Magic.” You spit out the words as your hands press into the ground. Your legs cramp from the way you’re forcing them to stay down. “Mihya. Run, please.”
“Awh, worried about me?” Kaiser teases as he logs the odds. There is no water that swirls around you, so it begs to reason – you can’t call it. The only weapon you have is a dagger.
Kaiser tilts his head until his neck cracks. “Have some faith in me, princess. I’m not afraid, even against you.”
He breathes, in and out, until the calmness of battle seeps into him, raises his sword pointed right at you. “I’ll win, even against you.”
And then he reveals that cocky, surefire smirk. “You should worry more about not dying yourself.”
When you launch at him, it is without mercy, makes him realize how your kindness seeps into the way you fight. His weapon is bigger, larger, and he uses it to keep you at arm’s length, to wrap around towards the enemy. But he sees his problem almost immediately. Like a puppet on strings, you’re protecting the enemy.
He knows it, the moment the prophecy solidifies into place in his mind. That feeling of being lost on a path, gone with the reigning down a light. The final puzzle piece in the picture.
You will die by the hands of the one you love most. So, it truly was this feeling, after all. Love. An aching thing, something so undoing. An open wound that can only be tendered by you.
For once, the prophecy is not a curse but a guiding starlight. He corners you with strike after strike, until you’re as close as can be to the enemy. And then he approaches you with no defense, lets you strike at him. In the same breath, his sword lands behind you and takes off the enemy’s head.
None of the fight felt as clear as this moment, when your blade presses into his heart.
He collapses, right in front of the throne with you on top of him. The throne that should be undoubtedly his, belonging to him as heir. Tears fall from your face before your mind can clear. Like you know, soul to soul, as his lifeform slips through your fingers. He brings his hand to cup your cheek, as he had wanted to do when you laid like this above him in the sand.
“I did not expect a death so gentle for myself.”
His smile is so bittersweet that it aches all the way to the bottom of your heart. His hand slips down from your face as you finally come to.
“You will not die on me.” You gasp out, a statement said with so much conviction that the silver bell of truth rings in return. You call to your water immediately, a stream so fast it cuts into your skin but you don’t care.
A magic that can only be done once. You take the divine sword from the ground, aim the blade carefully at yourself – your own soul. Only this sword can make a cut like this, with the hand of the divine. You slice your wrist, and instead of blood, pure golden lifeforce pours out.
You separate your divinity from yourself, and you feed it to him. It will not turn him divine. You are only half-divine yourself, after all. What you can give is not nearly enough to turn a man into a God. But it will hold his soul in this world, let you do an unspeakable magic: an exchange of divine power for life, a process long enough for the water to heal his heart back together again. The hand you lay against his mouth shakes more and more with each second that your golden blood pours into him, but your other hand lays steady as ever over his heart, until you feel it beat once, twice. Hear him spurt out a breath.
You collapse on top of him before you can see him open his eyes.
~
“I see the prophecy has been completed.”
When Kaiser wakes, there’s a split second where he thinks he might’ve just ended up wherever souls go at the end of their line. There’s what must be a full-fledged goddess standing right over him. It’s only your warm body splayed across his chest that tells him otherwise. His hands are lightning quick, sitting up and moving to your neck to check your pulse, only exhaling and relaxing once he feels it.
Golden threads extend down the sleeves of the goddess’ arms. He’s seen the paintings. Fate itself stands before him.
“How could you do this?” He makes his disdain clear, lacking any respect one might give to the queen of the gods herself.
“I am sorry.” She answers immediately, and that makes Kaiser’s eyes widen just slightly. “Your grievances, you may relay them to me, if you wish. There is a bigger picture at play here, bigger than you or the water sorceress or even myself. The threads of fate are not woven selfishly.”
“You gods up in your clouds play with the lives of mortals. That has always been written in history. But to her? To one of your own?”
“She is more one of mine than most. The heir to the throne of the Gods, I would’ve entrusted her with my life. It’s why she complies with Fate in every life, without complaint.”
“So she lends you her loyalty, and you take advantage of her. And you dare put yourselves above us?”
“Heavy is the head that wears the crown. Heavy too, are my hands, that weave the golden threads. You and her are one of many that have suffered by my hand. For that, there is no apology I can give. What I can give, well… Would you like to hear your full prophecy, prince?”
Lone Emperor who covets the throne, You will die by the hands of the one you love most. Forsaken by all the Gods but one, Re-emerge, awaken, as the ruler you are meant to become.
In any other circumstance, he would be eager as ever to finally hear the full prophecy. But his eyes are only on you, your slumbering state as he holds you in his arms.
“What will become of her?” He asks quietly.
“She will be a water sorceress, as she had initially been.”
“She will die, then? Like a human does?”
“All things die, hero.” Hero. That’s what he is now, having been trial-passed. The title burns like bourbon down his throat. “Even the divine dies. But yes, she will die as a human, and be reborn again as the cycle permits.”
“A life of such simplicity is not befitting of a woman like her.”
“Who says it would be simple? Besides, she has gone through the trial of the divine once before. Don’t you have faith she could do it again?”
The trial of the divine. He had not known such a thing prior to you. But if anyone could pass it, it would be you.
“I will make her my wife. I care little for the words or respect of the gods, even a queen like yourself. But it is my duty to inform you. If she will have me, I will wed her as has been planned.”
“The prophecy is complete. What happens now is too inconsequential for me to put effort into. However…” she watches you, teartracks streaked down your cheeks. “I’m quite fond of her. I hope for her an easy life.”
In a blink, her form disappears.
“Kaiser!” Oliver’s voice echoes through the halls, taking big leaps with Noa to his side, skidding to a halt when he finally finds you both.
“The goddess-”
“She lives,” Kaiser cups your head into his chest. “Though she is goddess no more. A trade. Not a fair one by any means.” His thumb traces across your cheek, a state of his so vulnerable it renders Oliver speechless.
Noa approaches the threshold where Oliver does not dare. He rests his hand on the crown of Kaiser’s head. “Another chance at life is the greatest gift, and she has granted you as such. That is a debt you’ll never be able to repay her for..”
“I’ll spend the rest of my life trying, then.”
~
It’s only in the aftermath, that you find out how deep in you truly were.
Kaiser takes a big inhale of the winter air. It’s fresh and cold. And with him, the nation breathed a breath anew, and the trial laid in ashes under his feet.
You’re facing the horizon of the sea when he finds you.
In the catch of the light, sometimes he swears he sees the divinity that had shimmered off of you before. It’s almost hard to believe, with the ring of water that floats around you, that it had ever left you at all.
“What are you doing?” His voice is soft, as it always is with you now.
“Relearning the water.”
“What does it say?”
“That I am still its mistress. Still a sorceress,” the water around you drops into the wet sand. “That its loyalty with me is not dependent on divinity.”
He places a hand to the back of your neck, easing out the tensions there. “But?”
You smile weakly. “I have to strain to hear her now.”
“Guess we can’t do that spectacle again for our wedding.” He cracks a smile, something to ease the ache. “Water holds memory, right?”
“That, it does.”
He grabs your hand, pulling you up and towards the waves. You yell for him, but the ocean crashes loudly around you both, and he drags you into the water anyways. Once you’re deep in enough that the waves drape over your knees, he pulls you in close.
“Let her bear witness, then.” He whispers it against your lips, brushing your hair away from your face. He kisses you, deep and with so much heart you might burst from it.
A prophecy unfolded, a fate changed, a life saved.
There’s a part of you that can feel an oncoming future. A sheathing that can block even the eyes of Gods. God-killing weapons that have descended from the heavens themselves. A potion that can cause madness in the minds of the divine. A war between mortals and Gods is coming, you’re sure of it.
But not in this life. In this life, you are a water sorceress, and he is a trial-passed hero. And like in every life, you find your way back to each other, every time.
author's note: ohmygod THANK YOU FOR READING PLEASE tell me what you think!!! this is my longest fic ever so i really hope you enjoyed
extended author's note -- know that this is an incredibly realistic note about the perception of love that will take you out of the fantasy lovey-dovey space. it's a disclaimer for the parts of the fic i romanticize and how u should not romanticize them in real life, as well as some notes about kaiser's characterization if you're interested
#michael kaiser x reader#kaiser x reader#kaiser x you#kaiser x y/n#michael kaiser x you#michael kaiser x y/n#blue lock x reader#blue lock x you#blue lock x y/n#blue lock x female reader#blue lock smut#kaiser x reader smut#blue lock fanfiction#blue lock fic#bllk x reader#bllk x you#michael kaiser#blue lock#fragments of memories: fic#fragments of memories#x reader
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I LOVEEEEE YOU FICS OMG OMG
If you could be so kind to write a DomgojoxBratreader where he is her academic rival and they are always arguing but they start falling for each other. She is sassy and he matches her energy 🙏🏽🙏🏽
I pushed her back to the wall and said “You done?”
Tags: dom!Satoru x fem!Reader, brat!Reader, brat taming, academic rivals, rivals to lovers, slight angst, maybe hurt/comfort, hea, cursing, smut, mdni, spanking, slight impact play, cunninglingus, unprotected sex, this shit gonna be nasty i fear.
An: This all takes place when they're in a like Jujutsu Tech College... bare with me lmao. It's basically the events from their highschool years, but I made it to where they happened while they were in college, so all the characters are of age here. I looooove the academic rivals trope after I wrote my Hiromi fic 😩 you can read that here if you’re interested! Also, so sorry but this is a long one... 7.3k words...
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Thwak!
Your body jolts forward a bit as you’re slung unceremoniously over Satoru’s shoulder. His large palm wooshes to connect with your bottom once more.
Thwak!
“Why is it always the small ones who I can throw around so effortlessly that talk the most shit?” His face is occupied with that shit eating grin as he gives your ass another spank just for the hell of it. There’s nothing you can do about it anyways. He may as well have his fun.
“Put me down, Satoru!!” You whine, trying to jostle your way out of his grip, but he’s having none of it. Your fists pound at his muscular back, but he continues to laugh. Without your cursed technique, you’re really are just a weakling to him.
“Where are your manners, princess? That’s no way to speak to your upperclassmen.” He taunts as he continues to carry you around with ease. “Maybe if you call me senpai, I’ll put you down.”
“Fuck no! I’m not doing that, weirdo!” You huff as your body continues to wriggle in his grasp. Geto watches with an amused look on his face. He makes no effort to stop Satoru’s shenanigans since you really were asking for this by provoking him all day today.
Your cursed technique is the only one that comes close to countering Satoru’s, so you’re the only person he’ll bother training with. However, he’s a complete asshole to train with.
When you’re losing, he gets all cocky and mouthy, talking about how weak and pathetic you are. When you’re putting up a good fight, Satoru somehow gets even more energetic. His cursed energy output increases exponentially, and he gets touchier too because he can’t cope with the euphoric feeling of actually having a challenge.
Principal Yaga was the unfortunate soul who had to tell Satoru that it was inappropriate to bear hug you for so long after a good sparring session. One time, you were trapped in his arms, completely unable to move for almost an hour as he rambled about how much he enjoyed getting that energy out. His face was also coincidentally(?) shoved in your chest. He, of course, claims it was nothing sexual, but you were completely pressed against him. You felt him grow hard against your thigh.
Either way, you always felt like you had a chip on your shoulder. You didn’t just want to he known as the one who could “almost counter Satoru”. You wanted to be known as the one who could beat the strongest sorcerer of today.
Unfortunately, you weren’t strong enough to beat him in combat yet, so you usually provoked him with words. All day, Geto has had to listen to you and Satoru bickering back and forth with each other.
“Well, at least my eyes aren’t off putting to look at.”
“My eyes are beautiful, princess. You’re just mad that you can’t get a date meanwhile I have girls falling all over me.” Satoru of course childishly stuck his tongue out at you.
“Bold of you to assume I can’t get a date.” You fire back with a small huff, crossing your arms over your chest.
“Oh? Does the princess have a date? Make sure to let me know how that goes.” Satoru laughs, and his hand ruffles your hair uncaringly.
“You can ask your dad tomorrow morning how it went.” You’re use to Satoru’s sass by now, and you know how to perfectly match his freak as some would say.
Satoru shoots you a small glare, which only elicits a giggle from you. You decide to push it further. “Yeah, I’m thinking about giving you a sibling. What do you think about that, hm? Maybe we’ll make another six-eyed freak with the limitless technique, so you aren’t that special.”
Satoru’s nose twitched in disdain. Not only did he not like the thought of not being special anymore; he despised the thought of you sleeping with his dad.
And that’s how you ended up thrown over his shoulder as he carried you towards the training matts. “Quite the mouth on you, princess. If only you could fight as good as you yap.” He smirked as he gave your ass a light spank. Once he realized the amount of control he had over you in that moment, it was game over for you.
“Let me go, Satoru!” You shrieked as Gojo continued to manhandle you over his shoulder. After a good twenty minutes of him holding you up, Suguru finally spoke out.
“You two are starting to sound like an old married couple. Put her down, Satoru.” Geto’s calming voice finally laid down the law to which Satoru reluctantly abided by, allowing for your feet to touch the floor.
You caught your breath as you were put down. It had been taxing to wrestle in his arms and scream for him to stop it. He knew you couldn’t activate your cursed technique while had full control over your body. Plus, if you were to activate your technique, you would’ve likely hurt Geto in the process. Satoru knew you wouldn’t even entertain the risk.
While Satoru was Suguru’s one and only friend, you were more like a little sister at Suguru’s side. He was the only one who didn’t view you as “Satoru’s counter”. To Suguru, you were just “y/n”. He saw you as an underclassman with an unprecedented level of potential.
He also often helped you with your studies. While Satoru was technically the brighter one of the two, Suguru was a true teacher. He explained even the most complicated topics to you, much to Satoru’s displeasure.
You didn’t miss the scowl on Satoru’s face each time you came up to both of them to request for Geto’s help. You didn’t miss the way he’d stare at both of you with a slight pout and how he’d try to tell you the answer before Geto could explain it.
You figured that it was just Satoru being spoiled. He didn’t like not being the center of attention when it came to you and Geto.
Satoru turned towards you, and he opened his mouth to continue on his little beratement of you when the door to the training area was abruptly opened. Principal Yaga stepped through the doors and called Gojo and Geto to his office.
The principal ended up sending the two young men out on a mission, and that was when everything changed between you three.
*** *** ***
Things between you three went dry for a while. You knew the details of what happened, but you didn’t dare talk directly to Satoru or Suguru about it.
Both of the men went their own separate directions, leaving you behind in the dust as if you were a child of divorce. Satoru took on an ungodly amount of training, barely ever at the dorms to do anything. Suguru occupied himself with a massive amount of missions.
Suguru was getting skinnier too. His long black hair was becoming thinner by the day, and he always looked so painfully tired. You felt like you would be a burden on him if you asked for any help from him.
Satoru was training so much, putting on more muscle in every place of his body. He didn’t ever invite you to spar with him anymore. He never taunted you in the hallways or even made direct eye contact with you.
They were both so preoccupied in their own grief that they seemingly forgot about you.
Things didn’t stop there either.
Haibara’s death shook Jujutsu Tech to its core. Nanami dropped out of the program. Suguru dropped out and was now a wanted criminal. Shoko wasn’t on the teaching path anymore, moving to learn more RCT to prevent something like this from happening again.
It was just you and Satoru on the teaching path. “Class” if you can even call it that - was so depressing that you barely bothered to show up for lectures anymore. Satoru was taking on every single mission, filling in for Suguru, Nanami, and Haibara’s absence. He wouldn’t even speak to you about Suguru or anything else for that matter.
Feeling so incredibly alone, you were curled up in your dorm late one night. Your face was sticky from tears, and your breath was so uneven. You just needed to talk to someone.
You didn’t think he’d answer, but Suguru sounded happy when he picked up the phone.
“Y/n, how are you?” His voice was like a double edged sword. It was so comforting to hear his voice, but you also remembered the lives he took.
You two spoke for over two hours. You vented out every single grief and complaint to him while he calmly tried to convince you that Jujutsu Tech was a waste of your time.
He was so good at buttering you up, making you feel like his way of thinking even made sense. You were so desperate for a friend; you couldn’t care less that you were essentially signing yourself up for a cult.
“Come to me, y/n. We could do great things together. It’d be like old times. I need you here with me.” A cult leader preying on someone when they’re at their lowest.
You agreed, hanging up the phone to start packing your bags. You couldn’t take living here anymore anyways, not after everything. Satoru probably wouldn’t even notice that you’re gone.
Quietly creeping down through the dorms, duffle bag in hand, you flinch when a sudden hand grips your shoulder from behind. You let out a sharp gasp followed by a small cry before you turn around quickly.
Satoru was standing behind you, no humor in his face at all. He was shirtless. His abs and muscular arms were on full display as he was only wearing a pair of grey sweatpants, and his hair was slightly damp from a shower.
“Where are you going?” He asked in a tone you’d never heard him use. He was being stern with you as if you were a child.
You shift uncomfortably underneath his gaze before you brush his hand off your shoulder. “I’m going to go stay with a friend.” You give him a half-lie, not able to tell him to his face that you were leaving.
“Pretty large duffle bag for going to stay with a friend, don’t you think?” His hand effortlessly takes the duffle bag off your shoulder, and he pulls it away from you before opening it, taking notes of the contents inside. “I don’t know why you bother lying to me. My six eyes know when you’re not telling the truth.”
You try to take the duffle bag back from him, but he dodges and bats away all of your attempts. “I wasn’t lying!” You shout, getting frustrated and impatient with him. “It’s not like you even care. Give me my shit back.”
Bright blue eyes look up at you, and his pupils dilate, the size of small pinholes. “I don’t care?” He asks before letting out a humorless laugh. It’s eerie seeing him like this, like a stick that just about to snap if anyone applied anymore pressure to him.
“You don’t. You don’t even talk to me anymore, even when I try talking to you! You and Geto completely blew me off.” Hot tears burn in your eyes as you’re forced to face how you feel right in front of him. “At least Geto wants to talk to me now.” You murmured quietly, shifting your gaze to the ground.
“You talked to Suguru?” Satoru asks, eyes wide and full of anger. His palm comes up and grips your hair pulling it back so you’ll look him in the eyes.
You let out a sharp hiss as his fingers are digging into your scalp. “Let go of me!” You shout, trying to free his hand from your hair.
Things finally start to click in Satoru’s head. You were leaving him, leaving him to go stay with Suguru. His stomach coiled in white hot rage and jealousy. Could you not see all he had done for you? Yet, you still choose Suguru, who had done nothing for you.
Your body feels weak and unstable as you’re suddenly teleported to the training mats in the gym. “Satoru, what?” You ask as you look around as best as you can. He finally frees your scalp.
“You want to go be with him?” He asks before throwing your duffle bag against the door. He then leans over and starts to stretch his legs. “You’ll have to beat me. Prove to me that you’re strong enough, and I’ll let you go. I won’t keep chasing you.”
"Satoru, you're talking crazy..." You reply as you glance over to your duffle bag that was slumped against the door. You had no want or intention of fighting Satoru. "I'm allowed to drop out if I want."
"So what? You just quit? You're just going to let me win like that? Bullshit, yn. I know you better than that." Satoru's eyes bore holes into the very depths of your soul. He does know you better than that — knows that you're not one to back down from a challenge.
Your jaw tightens as you watch him, anger coiling in your stomach. He can never just let you have what you want. Everything was a fight to him. He always gets what he wants because he's the fucking starboy of Jujutsu, and you're just "close enough" to his counter.
You rip your sweatshirt away from your body, tossing it off the matt. Your torso was clad in a thin tank top that you didn't necessarily plan on letting anyone see. You roll your neck. If he wanted to fight, you'd give him one last one.
"Atta girl." He whistles with a smug grin. His body is still in a fighting stance, waiting for you to take yours.
You don't even bother to respond to his praise. You know he's only acting like this to get under your skin more. "Make it count, Satoru. This will be the last time I ever fight you."
"Oh, I make it count each and every time."
It's not long before you two are completely at each other's throats. The amount of cursed energy emitting from the training area was absolutely devastating for the school. Building foundations literally shook. The lights flickered constantly, and a few even blew.
You two were lucky it was in the dead of night. If anyone was awake to witness this, they would've already put a stop to it, but most citizens must've chocked the movements up to small earthquakes in their sleepy haze.
Your body was tired and bruised, but you weren't going to give up. You wouldn't tap — no matter how many times Gojo put you in different submission positions. You always managed to break free and hit him with your elusive technique — something his infinity couldn't recognize.
He had grown so much stronger since your last sparing session. All of the training and missions had done him well. His chiseled body felt heavier against you. His grip was tighter. He was faster, stronger, and smarter.
Strangely enough, Satoru was mostly silent during this fight. He didn't taunt you or call you pathetic like he normally did. Besides his quiet grunts and growls from blows or primal rage, he was deadly silent.
This was serious to him. This wasn't like a fight with a meaningless curse. This wasn't like a cute little sparring session with you back in the day. This was you, and your role in his life. He would be damned before he let you fucking quit and leave him.
"Come here." His voice was deeper, rougher — predatory almost as he went in for another submission. His eyes were trained on you, and he had one objective in his mind: to keep you.
You slipped up, misjudging Satoru's distance from you. Before you could evade him, Satoru's large calloused palms gripped the underside of your thighs, and he lifted your body up with ease, shoving your back against the wall.
"You done?" He growled lowly against your ear, his breath fanning against your skin. His chest was rising and falling harshly. He was also bruised, but he'd fight you for the rest of eternity if it meant you wouldn't leave him.
Your breath was faster than his — literally panting as you took the moment of reprieve and rested against the wall. It had been so long since you too had sparred, you almost forgot how handsy he could be with you in the middle of fights.
His slender waist was between your thighs, still only covered by his grey sweat pants. His abs were glistening in sweat, and his hips created a perfect V dipping into his waistband. You instinctively had your legs wrapped around him — making him support your weight.
"I'm not going to let you win." Your voice is low and shaky from the fight. Your nerves were wound up after the night you had.
"Then, stay. Keep fighting me." His body pressed closer to yours. If anyone walked in on you two, it would definitely appear as if you two were doing things other than fighting.
"He needs me, Satoru..." You murmur, turning your head away from his. Suguru said it himself. He needed you. Satoru just wanted you to keep playing catch up with him.
Satoru's jaw clenched, and he pushed your back against the wall harder. He supported your weight with one of his hands and his waist as his other hand roughly grabbed your jaw. His fingers digging into the soft skin of your cheeks, forcing you to look at him.
"If he needed you so fucking badly, why did he leave you here with me?"
You look at him with lost eyes as the reality of the situation finally starts to sink in. Your big brother, Suguru, had changed into someone you could hardly recognize. You tense — immediately trying to push those thoughts out of your head.
He can recognize that you're still trying to deny it. He jolts your body a bit, making your eyes snap open to look at him again.
"I need you, yn." His voice is raw. He's almost pleading with you. He sounds so convincing, but you can't help but doubt him.
"No, you don't..." You whisper as tears sting your eyes. Suguru didn't need you. He hadn't even bothered to call or text you. If he needed you so much, why didn't he reach out?
"Oh really?" Satoru lets out a humorless laugh. "So, I'm just fighting you at three in the morning for fun? I'm just fighting to keep you here with me for the thrill of it." His hand is unwavering on your jaw, forcing you to look him in the eyes as he speaks.
His eyes look so tired and drained. If you left, how would he have any moments rest. He's barely sleeping now as it is, and if you leave, he'll have to take on your missions on top of everything else.
But something tells you it's not even about that. This fight is the closest thing he's felt to human connection in months.
The rawness of his tone and emotion tugs at your heart strings, but it still feels like you’re giving up to him.
“Fighting at three in the morning sounds typical for you. You just don’t want to lose your favorite punching bag.” You spit back at him.
His hand — so pale and veiny — trails down from your jaw to your neck, and he squeezes just hard enough to make you feel all tingly inside. “Is that what you think? Do I need to fuck some sense into you?”
Your face warms from his crude words, and your hands squeeze his shoulders. His lips curl into a smirk as he witnesses your inner struggle, but he knows the truth. His six eyes know your tell: the way your thighs squeeze around him as if you’re trying to subdue your arousal.
He knows good and well that your pretty cunt is weeping for him, but he’s not going to give into yours or his own desires yet.
“I didn’t fight Nanami when he left.” His voice is back to a steady state, speaking the words carefully to ensure you understand what he’s trying to convey. “I even had the opportunity to fight Suguru to come back. I didn’t.”
Your heart fluttered in your chest, making it feel like your stomach flipped upside down. You want to open your mouth to speak — to demand to know why he didn’t fight them to stay, but his hand was still firmly wrapped around your slender throat, holding you back from talking.
“How dense can you be, princess? It’s always been you. No one else.” A heady whisper against your ear. His hand subtly relaxes on your throat.
Then, you remember all the looks he gave you when you’d ask Suguru for help. You remember the times he would fight or outright just butt into your conversations, demanding to be the center of your attention.
“I knew you wouldn’t win, but even if you did, I lied. I’d still chase you. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I just let you slip past me.”
“Asshole.” You finally managed to speak, earning a dark chuckle from him.
Thwak!
His hand that had been supporting you slapped against your bottom. The familiar sting causing you to let out a breathy gasp.
“You really don’t know when to quit, do you princess?” His hand unabashedly caresses your bottom, soothing the pain.
“I don't think you'd like me as much if I did." You respond gripping onto his shoulders as your body is under his control.
Thwak!
"Probably right about that." He murmurs before he leans into you. His pale blue eyes were half-lidded as he took you in. He's grown tired of denying himself. He's devoted his life to Jujutsu. Now, he just wants to finally do the things he wants to do, and you just so happen to be at the top of his list. "Are you going to play nice, or do I need to keep reminding you who's in control here?"
“I’m letting you have control.” You hiss. Probably not the wisest decision, since Gojo merely lets out a dark laugh. His hand tightens back around your throat, and your back hits the wall with a small thud.
“You’re going to eat your words, sweets.” He mumbles lowly, towering over you as he has full control over your body. “Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for this? Do you even know what you do to me?”
His hardened length presses right against your core as if on cue, and he lets out a small groan from the contact. You bite back a noise that would let on your arousal because fuck… you’re wetter than you should be right now.
Too bad Satoru already knows the truth behind your flushed face and heaving chest. His six eyes really give him the advantage.
“I’m going to have fun with you, princess.” He quietly laughs as he drags his hips up and down, giving you the smallest bit of friction and pleasure. Both of you let out respective pants and noises — both of you were such a mess for each other.
Just when you were finally getting use to his rhythm, Satoru pulled back harshly, letting your feet touch the floor once more. Your legs subtly tremble as you stand on your own. You were still so exhausted from the fight, and now, you were feeling needy on top of it. It was like a perfect mixture for disaster.
You clench your jaw, not wanting to just give into him just because he said some really thoughtful words and looks so devilishly handsome. Sure, you were probably going to fuck him if he kept going, but you were not about to sit there and beg him to fuck you. There’s a perfectly good vibrator stashed in your duffle bag for this exact reason.
You start to walk towards the doors. Though, you weren’t planning on going to Suguru. You’d just… go stew in your dorm about how infuriating Gojo is, and then you’d get your frustrations out in a different manner.
“Oh no you don’t.” He says with a playful nature as he roughly grabs you right back up in his arms. “Gonna make me really work for it, aren’t you princess?” He carries you, despite your honestly pitiful attempts at getting away from him, and he bends you over one of the bleachers in the training area.
“Sato-“
“Shut up.” He lowly growled before grabbing something out of his pocket. His black blindfold crumpled in his hand before he reached over your back. One of his large hands grabbed your jaw, forcing your mouth open, and his other hand shoved his blindfold into your mouth.
“If you spit that out, I’m replacing it with my cock.” He warns lowly before letting out a small laugh at your panicked expression. Your face is so red from pure embarrassment of the situation. It doesn't help when Satoru's large gruff hands grab ahold of your shorts and yank them down to your ankles. Anyone could walk in here right now. Sure, it was late at night, but Yaga was notoriously a light sleeper.
Before you could even think about spitting out his blindfold and cussing him out, a harsh slap clapped against your bottom. Your teeth clamped down on the blindfold, masking a husky moan. Satoru definitely had a bit of an obsession with spanking you.
His eyes devoured you as your ass rippled. His hand gently rubbed your poor abused flesh before he spanked your other cheek. Your body jolted forward. A small muffled whine came from your lips, but Satoru knew you loved this.
You were practically dripping all over the bleachers for crying out loud. "Messy girl~" He taunted with a small laugh. "I think she's cryin' for it, sweets. She wants a spanking too."
You quickly start to shake your head, your body tensing at the thought. His fingertips gently smacked your drooling cunt, causing for an obscene wet noise to infiltrate your ears. You can't even stop the moan that's muffled from his blindfold. Your vision goes a bit blurry from tears of stimulation and slight pain, but fuck, it makes you clench around nothing. You were practically aching to be filled.
"Mmm~ you liked that didn't you, princess?" His hand rubs over your ass, groping you so shamelessly. "One day you might actually learn that I know your body better than you do..."
His finger trailed between your soaking wet folds, spreading your wetness around your clit, drawing out a shaky moan from you. Your legs started to lightly jitter, and it felt like your knees would give in any moment now.
"Poor, poor thing. You look like a newborn deer trying to learn how to walk." He taunted as his fingers circled around your entrance.
You were half tempted to spit the damn blindfold out, but you knew Satoru wouldn't hesitate to keep you gagging around his cock for hours if you kept being disobedient.
Another small slap to the button of nerves sent you forward. Your eyes fell shut as you savored the sensations tingling straight from your core. Your knees went inwards, and you had to support your body with your arms on the bleachers.
"That's it... Who's a good girl?" Satoru breathily purred from behind you. You were such a fucking beauty like this, finally caving in to your desires. You wanted this as much as he did. There was no point in denying it. His fingers went back to rubbing tight circles around your clit to soothe the little painful shocks.
You couldn't even formulate the words to tell him just where he could shove his dick. His ministrations felt like pure heaven, and your stomach tightened slightly. If he didn't slow down, you were sure god was going to come down and pluck you from the Earth.
Seeing the accumulation of energy with his six eyes, Satoru knew exactly what was going on. He smirked as he continued rubbing the swollen numb between his fingers. Your poor wet pussy making the wettest clacking noises he's ever heard. His mouth was practically watering for a taste.
Dropping to his knees behind you, Satoru wasted no time burying his face directly into your cunt. He immediately went to work, using his fat tongue to lap up all of your delicious juices. He gave you tender kisses of encouragement.
"See how you're treated when you're being good?" He taunted lowly right against your cunt. The vibration from his words had you clawing at the bleachers for mercy.
You whined and slightly thrashed, trying to fight the orgasm that was threatening to take over. It was too much- You couldn't cum all over Satoru's face right where you two had spent the most time at each other's throats!!
His tongue prodded at your entrance, and he moaned as he felt your wet velvet heat. You were made to house his cock in there -- he knew it. He'd always been god's favorite, so it made sense that god would bestow such a wonderful woman with the most delicious pussy to him.
His thumb rubbed tight circled around your clit as his tongue flicked in and out. It wasn't a minute later before you were basically gushing into his mouth. A muffled squeal left your throat, and you tried to claw away. Your cunt clenched and clenched, and Satoru nearly pitied your slutty pussy. It really just needed to be filled with dick. His dick.
His hands braced your thighs as he gave you a few more sweet kisses straight to your core before he stood up. He slid himself between you and the bleachers so he could hold you up. Your body collapsed against his chest, and you panted heavily. Not even your best vibrator and favorite smutty book could get that sort of orgasm out of you.
"Don't bite me." He warned with a ragged laugh before his fingers delved between your lips and pulled the blindfold out of your mouth. You didn't have the energy or resolve to even say anything to him. Instead, you opted to bury your face in his bare chest.
"My poor princess. Did I wear you out?" His voice was still teasing, even though he literally knew that he just made you see stars.
"Shut up, 'toru." You mutter into his chest, causing for his heart to swell. He loved that nickname, and he loved how you were like a cat pretending like you didn't like being pet by him.
His fingers pressed beneath your chin, and he pulled you up to look at him. Now, his dick was swelling from how precious your face since you were so fucked out already. Wordlessly, he leaned down and pressed his lips against yours.
Your heart slammed against your ribcage. Getting your pussy ate from the back by him was one thing, but now, he was being all sweet and kissing you?? You can remember all of his sweet words and how he looked when he said them. He was being genuine. He really had feelings for you this entire time.
You wanted to stomp your foot on his toe for taking so long to finally tell you, but his kiss was so sweet and intoxicating. You took a deep breath before intertwining your lips with his.
The sound of lips smacking together filled the training area. You felt the air shift around you. Your passion started to burn hot within the kiss. Both of you chased each others' lips like it was a goddamn need — not a want. Your head actually started to spin as he gripped your jaw and started to nip at your bottom lips with his teeth.
You pulled back - nervous as to why you didn't feel good. Your eyes widened as you took in the change of environment. You were in Satoru's dorm, sat upon his bed. His room was surprisingly clean and warmly lit by a Himalayan salt rock lamp right next to his bed.
"Sorry sweets, I felt like taking this somewhere more private." Satoru merely laughed as his body towered over yours. "I wanted to be able to take my time with you." His voice dropped down an octave, whispering into your ear before pressing a kiss to your cheek.
Your heart fluttered in your chest as you watched him hook his thumbs into the waistband of his grey sweatpants. They did absolutely fuck all to hide how his dick was straining directly against the fabric. He had a huge tent right in his pants, and his cock had created a small dark stain right on his crotch area from leaking copious amounts of pre-cum.
Once his pants were down, your eyes marveled at just how pretty his cock looked in the warm glow of the lamp. His dick was long, and he had such pretty veins decorating the underside and side of his cock. His tip was flushed a pretty cherry red, and he had a pearl of pre-cum leaking from his slit.
"Aw you flatter me, sweets~" Satoru laughed as he petted the top of your head, affectionately ruffling your hair. You scowled up at him, only making him laugh more. There was nothing like seeing you all defiant and pissy with him... except for seeing you all fucked out and pliant under him.
"C'mon~ give it a kiss." He demanded as his long fingers tightened around your hair, guiding your plush lips straight to his dick. You would rather die than give into him like this. Your legs kicked out from you, kicking him straight in the shin.
He hissed quietly from the pain before giving you a dark grin. "You know, I wanted our first time to be sweet and passionate, but you make it real fucking hard to be nice to you, princess." He let go of your head before shoving you back onto the bed.
"Maybe because you make it real fucking hard to want to be nice to you." You retorted as your eyes narrowed. He settled between your legs with a small grunt. Even while you were arguing with him, your cunt was still soaked.
He was almost tempted to take the words out of your mouth by giving you more of his tongue, but his cock had been neglected long enough. "You didn't seem to have a problem after I gave you your best orgasm." He commented with a lopsided grin.
You stayed still against his bed swallowing harshly. Were you two really about to...? Just hours ago, it felt like you two were trying to kill each other. Hell, two days ago, it felt like he had forgotten you even existed.
"This doesn't make up for anything, Satoru." You warned as you kept your gaze hardened. Your body was to receptive to him to deny that you wanted... needed him, so you weren't even going to deny yourself the pleasure that he could give anymore. But this didn't make up for the fact that he had seemingly left you behind for months...
even if he only did that so you didn't have to bare the weight of his mistakes with the star plasma vessel..
even if he only worked himself to death so you could try to focus on your studies instead of being thrusted into being overworked with missions after Suguru and Nanami dropped out...
No, this didn't make up for any of that.
His touch softened as he cupped your cheek in his hand. His thumb stroked your smooth skin, gazing down at you like he was holding the world in his hands. It made you want to squirm and hide.
"So, this is meaningless for you?" He whispered quietly into your ear as his cock slipped between your sopping folds, grinding the underside of his length against you.
Your words got caught in your throat as you gasped for air. You felt your face immediately warm. Shit, you hated feeling this vulnerable... especially in front of your sworn rival.
"Am I only as useful as that cute little vibrator you stowed in your get-away back?" Satoru continued. His hips rocked back and forth, and you found yourself getting squirmy with each time his tip bumped against your entrance.
He was just too damn big to slip inside. It'd take work and lots of perseverance. Luckily, Satoru seemed to be surprisingly patient in that regard.
He groaned as he felt your slick coating his cock. Your body was fucking made for him: made to be his counter and made to take his cock.
You hid your face in his muscular shoulder, stifling a small whine. Damn his six eyes. That vibrator was a godsend some nights when you were stuck being alone.
"Answer me, princess." He drawled as one of his hands reached back to hold your head gently as if he were embracing you. His hips kept a steady rhythm, driving you mad.
"N-no..." You stuttered out, cursing your voice for betraying your arousal.
"Aw, sweets." He cooed in your ear, moving his hips with a bit more conviction now — testing the waters of pressing his giant cockhead against your entrance before going back to dry humping you.
You let out of noise of frustration, hating how easily it was for him to tease you like this. You knew it was going to hurt, but fuck, you were going to cry if you didn't get some relief soon.
"Shh, shh, I'm gonna give you what you need, sweets." He whispered into your ear, pressing a tender kiss to your cheekbone. "You gotta be a good girl for me though."
His arms cradled you as he peppered your neck in kisses. Your hips were rolling to meet his with each thrust. The slickest noises between you two filled the room as his long cock continued to rub against you.
"I'll b-be good, please." You finally choked out, giving up on arguing with him. You were too desperate now. There was no point in trying to hide it.
Satoru doesn't even attempt to hide his smug reaction to you being all submissive and needy underneath him. He drags his hips all the way back until he pushed himself forward — splitting you wiiide open for him.
"Fuck!" He groaned as your tight wet heat enveloped him, practically sucking you straight inside your sloppy pussy. One of his hands reached up and gripped the headboard for support. His back muscles flexed from the new positioning.
"Sh-shit-! Wait, T-toru... ah~! It's not g'nna fit!" You cried out, nails digging into his flesh as you tried to cope with the intrusion of his thick cock.
"Should've thought about that before you fucking begged for it, princess. Now, you're gonna shut the fuck up and take this dick like a good girl, yeah?" His voice was rough with need — no longer teasing. No, this was just primal domination now.
His cock continued to painstakingly shove it's way between your spongy walls, making room for himself right inside you until he was buried to the hilt. His hand had a vice grip against the headboard, and it took all of his mental fortitude to not bust immediately.
He made the mistake of looking down at you. Goddammit you're too pretty like this while taking his dick so well. Your lips were parted as just a small dribble of drool seeped out of the corner of your mouth. Your eyes were glassed over, and he could've swore he saw hearts in your pupils as you looked up at him.
All your attention was finally on him.
His hips set an unforgiving pace, fucking yours directly down into the mattress as he used his headboard as leverage. At least no one was in the dorms anymore besides you and him. There was no one to bother with how obscenely loud you were whining and moaning for him.
Though, Satoru would've still faced his peers with a shit eating grin the next morning if they still lived here. He was so damn proud to finally have you underneath him.
"T-toruToru~! Toru, oh fuck me~"
"At least that smart mouth of yours is good for something." He growled as his cock continued to rudely bully its way directly to your womb. Your legs were barely able to stay wrapped around him as he pounded his hips against yours.
His white hair stuck to his forehead as sweat started to build up for both of you. He usually hated the feeling, but nothing could tear him away from your sweet, sweet pussy right now.
He huffed as he shoved your legs up onto his shoulders, forcing you into the meanest mating press you could imagine. Your eyes rolled back as you practically kissed your last coherent thought goodbye.
Satoru fucking Gojo was going to had already fucked you stupid.
His cock was ruthless, pressing drabbles of precum directly against your cervix. His hips were practically drilling into you out of sheer muscle memory at this point. He just wanted to rut into until the day he died.
"Yeaaah~ look at you now, princess. Ngh.. can't talk back to me now, can ya? Did Toru fuck that.... mmm- poor little brain of yours stupid?" His hand let go from the headboard, gripping your cheeks with his pointer finger and thumb to make you look up at him. Your mouth parted for him as you gazed up at him.
He gathered a small bit of saliva in his mouth before he directly spit into yours, earning a wanton moan from your lips.
The bed continued to squeak and rattle from the repeated abuse. The headboard was now knocking against the wall without his hand to stop it.
"T-toru.." You cried, trying to warn him of how your tummy was tightening. It felt like every cell of your body was working for this orgasm. Your back arched as you felt yourself tighten around him.
He was already ten steps ahead of you, literally seeing your orgasm before it came. "Cum on my cock, princess. Go ahead. 's okay. I got you." He murmured into your ear right before he felt your gushy walls constricting around him, practically trying to milk his cock.
Goddamn, was it working.
A groan ripped through the air as his dick pulsed inside you. He had been holding on for all this time. He couldn't stop the groans and whimpers that fell from his lips as he finally let go and filled your cute cunt to the brim with his warm cum,
You two stayed still, catching your breaths, and neither of you dared to talk and ruin the moment. It was a silent agreement. Neither of you could fight the attraction between you two any longer.
"I missed you." You finally spoke up quietly. Satoru was vulnerable earlier after the fight. It was your turn now.
"I know." He responded quietly. He regretted taking so many missions and hiding from you. It was his way of trying to make the best out of a shitty situation, but all it did was make both of you unhappy. His nose nudged your cheek gently. "I missed you too."
His lips pressed soft kisses along your jaw. He would take more time later today to fully explain the breadth of his feelings for you, but for now, he was happy to pamper you in affections and aftercare until you fell asleep from overexertion.
Also... he would definitely have to make up some sort of story to tell Yaga and explain why your duffle bag was still in the training area... and why it had a pink vibrator inside.
FUCK FINALLY THE END.
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