#cruel intentions type beat

[coryosbaby]

Sub!stepbro!rafe please 😩

Summary: You steal coke from your stepbrother/fuck buddy, and he’s absolutely pussy whipped.

Warning: drug use, stepcest (stepbrother x stepsister), Rafe is in love, mommy kink, edging, spanking (m recieving 😇), oral (m receiving), ball sucking, p n v, body worship, mild mentions of feet kissing, doing Coke off his dick and ass oops, ball sucking, squirting, creampie, sub! Rafe, dom! Reader, literally not canon at all but idc I wanna dominate him

“I know you took it!”

Rafe’s voice screams out throughout the incredibly large Cameron estate as you walk down the stairs, his fists clenched at his sides as he watches your retreating form. You roll your eyes, used to his tantrums and spoiled personality from the many months of living with him. You’re both alone, the house echoing your words and otherwise being completely empty.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Rafe.” You reach the end of the staircase to grab your jacket and slip it on. But before you can, Rafe’s hands grab your wrists harshly. He yanks you to him, his breath heavy and uneven.

“Give me my fucking coke back.”

So maybe you do know what he’s talking about. But so what? Rafe isn’t like you. Whereas coke makes him violent and corrupted, it makes you… well, an average coke addict. It isn’t a surprise for anyone to learn that what’s wrong with Rafe’s brain goes far beyond addiction. So, stealing it isn’t necessarily wrong.

It’s definitely not something anyone with half the balls you have would do, though.

Rafe’s voice on the edge of threatening,, but you merely bat an eyelash at the boy. His face is flushed, mouth mere inches away from your face as he looks down at you with a hesitant angered expression. Your eyes avert to the incredibly long fingers wrapped around your wrist, and then back up to him again with a clenched jaw.

“Let go of me, Rafe.” You demand. He hesitates, and the nervous softening of his grip doesn’t go unnoticed. You move closer, getting on your tip toes to reach his tall height. “Let go of me…now.”

He doesn’t remove his fingers from your wrists at first, but after a moment his hands drop from yours.

Rafe isn’t one to be told what to do, but when it’s you… it’s like he can’t do anything but follow your orders. The other times before this, the times when you had fucked him up in secret, in so many more ways than one, doesn’t help the situation. And as messed up as it is, you’re the only woman who can make him fall to his knees.

Even if you’re the daughter of his dad’s wife.

A small smirk forms on your face, eyes wild, and you’re taking another step towards him. He stumbles back into the wall. You laugh at the look in his eyes. One at first glance would say it’s annoyance, but you know better.

It’s fear.

“I don’t like boys who don’t do what they’re told the first time.”

Rafe scoffs, body moving to walk backwards up the stairs as you follow him with slow steps.

“I don’t like thieves.”

“Don’t be greedy and I won’t have to steal it.”

He chuckles nervously, reaching the top of the staircase.

“‘M not greedy. Just wished you would’ve asked first.”

You pause. You’re both off the steps now, eyes following each others as you beckon him towards your room.

“If you want it so bad, maybe you should come in my room and get it.”

The insinuation doesn’t go unnoticed. Rafe’s face flushes a deep crimson.

“Yeah?” He replies. He reaches for your doorknob, right across from his. “Guess I have to find it, then. Right?”

You don’t say anything, but a smile quirks your lips as he brings himself inside. When his knees hit the edge of your bed you push him down harshly. He gasps, his body hitting the mattress underneath him with a loud thud. He lifts himself up onto his elbows as you approach your bookshelf. Seated on the highest shelf is a golden jewelry box. You pull out the third drawer. You grab the packet of white powder sitting inside and turn around to show the boy.

“This what you want?”

You can tell by the way his mood changes, excitement glazing his features as he looks at the drug. “Yeah.”

“Gonna have to earn it.” You say, coldly.

“I’ll do anything.”

And you know he means it. So you walk over to the bed and grab him by his ankles. His jeans are still on, and your fingers begin to undo his belt. He looks at you with a desperate gaze; you know he could take his clothes off himself, but where’s the fun in that? And so, once the belt is through the loops, you unbutton his jeans and push them down. Dior briefs are exposed to you, and you snicker.

“I didn’t even know dior made underwear. Preparing for something, Cameron?”

The boy huffs. “I just- I know it’s your favorite brand, that’s all.”

“So you wore them for me?” Your fingers ghost over the large bulge accompanying the fabric. He lets out a low groan. “That’s so cute. But it sounds like you came to me looking for a fight. Just so I’d put you in your place.”

“Maybe I did. So what?” He snarks. You narrow your eyes, and your palm lands harshly on his thigh. He whines.

“Don’t be a fucking brat. Now take your shirt off and turn over.”

Of course, he obeys; hands going to the hem of his striped top, he pulls it over his head and exposes his naked chest and torso to you. He’s gorgeous, perfectly chiseled and tense with arousal. He uses his legs to turn himself around onto his stomach.

“Like this?” He asks. Faux innocence drips off of every honeyed syllable.

“Yes, baby. Just like that.”

You sit down on your pink sheets next to Rafe’s pliant body. He’s breathing shallowly, waiting for you next move. You grab his ankles once again and maneuver his body so he’s laying across your lap. His brows furrow in confusion, but they quickly lift into pleasure as his mouth falls open. Your palm comes down on his left cheek. A teasing slap, one that isn’t meant to cause pain, but enough to present the idea of spanking to the boy’s mind.

“Yeah…” It’s all Rafe’s brain can muster, the feeling of being bent over his stepsister’s knee making blood rush to his cock a lot more than it should. “Thas’ good, momma…”

“Jesus...” You pull down his briefs, exposing his pretty round globes to the room. You grab the bag of coke and quickly poor a line down onto his right cheek. Rafe tries to look back at what you’re doing, but you’re other hand grabs his hair and yanks him back down to look at the bed.

“Don’t. Stay fucking still.”

You pull and adjust Rafe’s thighs so he’s a bit lifted. Careful not to spill the coke, you bring your nose down to his cheek and snort up the white powder. He knows what you’re doing, and his legs clench together as he tries to relieve his arousal and the urge to snatch the bag out of your hands. Your eyes roll back when the drug hits your system, a low groan leaving your lips.

“Fuck, that’s good.”

Rafe just moans, bare cock pressing against your thigh as he tries to rut against it. He’s dripping, you can feel him making a wet spot form on your skirt. Your palm goes down to his ass again; not to hit him, just to feel him under your fingertips.

“It’s okay, Rafe.” you coo. “You’ll get your share. Just be patient.”

“Don’t wanna,” he whines. “Wanna do a line off your tits… wanna fuck your pussy. Want ‘em both so bad.”

“You’ll get to soon. But I think you need a punishment for your smart mouth, first. Don’t you?”

He doesn’t say anything, just rocks his ass back into your hands as confirmation: yes, momma. I do need a punishment. I’ve been a bad boy.

Rafe has always been shy with words. So you don’t scold when he doesn’t reply. You just tilt your hand back, and spank him harshly. He mewls, hands gripping the sheets below him as his cheeks redden from your abuse. Another slap comes down, and after a few more you can feel tears dripping on your thigh. You smile at the sight of his reddened cheeks, the way he squirms when you rub your fingers over him. And after five more hits, the boy is sobbing into your leg.

“Such a sweet boy,” you praise. He shakes when you press a kiss to his shoulder blade. “Taking your punishment so well. I think you deserve a reward.”

“Please, mommy.” He pleads.

“Get up, honey. Sit up on your knees for a minute.”

He obeys, a small sniffle sounding from him as he does so. The sight of Rafe Cameron, your stepbrother, crying for you like this shouldn’t make you so wet. But it does.

When he’s on his knees you make sure to put a pillow down on the mattress before getting him to lay down on his back; he’s a strong boy, and he can handle a lot, so his sore ass is the last thing he’s thinking of when you ask if he’s okay. He just nods, cushioned underneath the pillow and looking up at you with heavy eyes and a large, hardened cock. You pick up the coke bag again, and teasingly hold it in front of your clothed pussy. And when Rafe sees it, he’s like one of Pavlov’s dogs: The two of his favorite things right in front of each other. He looks at you with longing.

“Can I have them? Please?”

“Not yet.”

He goes to whine, but you shush him with the threat of spanking him again.

“Just stay down, Rafe.” You demand. He nods, although he wants to protest.

You grip his cock, and his eyes flutter shut in surprise and pleasure. But it’s all in stride; you’re only holding it right now. Rafe’s bottom lip gets caught between his teeth when he feels your spit pool along his shaft. And then, you pour the coke onto his cock. It’s an odd feeling, and it tingles a bit. But when Rafe looks down, he wonders why he’s never done it before. Your nose is pressed against him, trying to snort up most of the coke. It’s just messy, though. His pre cum just made the coke stick to him, so you’re practically rubbing your face in his arousal.

And Jesus, that makes Rafe’s cock kick.

“Can’t get it?” He teases.

You just reply, “Fuck you, Cameron.” And then move your tongue along his cock. And he gasps, low and throaty, as he feels your tongue lick along the base of his length and then down to his balls. He’s hairless there (of course he is), so it’s easy and makes it all worthwhile. As you suckle the heavy sacks into your mouth, your pussy drips with wetness.

“Oh my god, that’s good, shit—“ Rafe fucks up into your mouth, and you press his hips back down so he can’t. You look up at him and watch as his face scrunches up in pleasure when your teeth graze his balls. You pull off of him with a pop as he continues to beg for his release.

“I’m gonna give you what you want now.” You state.

“Really? Thank you—“ he leans down, pressing a kiss to your forehead and cheeks. It shouldn’t be as affectionate as it is. “—thank you so much, momma.”

And he means it. Which isn’t common for Rafe fucking Cameron. But he does a lot of things he usually doesn’t do when he’s with you.

You lay down on your back with the coke in your hand. When Rafe tries to reach for it, you just tsk.

“No, baby. You have to fuck me first.”

He frowns, but he’s also giddy from the thought of being able to stick himself inside you. So he does what he’s told, and lifts up your skirt. The smell of your arousal hits him, and he keens.

“You smell so fuckin’ good.” He mumbles. And he can’t wait any longer, so he pushes your thong to the side and slides right into your soaked entrance. You smile, head tilting back and exposing your neck. Rafe doesn’t hesitate to leave bite marks along the expanse of the skin there. You’re the perfect amount of heat and wetness to make his cock throb in its place.

“Good?” You ask. You know the answer, but you want him to talk to you more.

“Really, really good.” He groans. “You’re always so tight— best pussy I’ve ever had, fuck!”

He’s trying to hold his resolve, but with all the edging you’ve been doing he going to cum quick. He sobs as he bucks up into you, as you drip around his girthy length. And then your arms are wrapping around his back as you start to unzip the bag of coke once again. You pull your top down and expose your breasts to Rafe, and pour the substance in between the valley of skin there. His mouth opens wide, and he just… shoves his face into it. It’s so filthy, and so vulgar, as he snorts the drug up into his nose and licks it off of you. He starts to lick your nipples ferociously, muttering thank yous over and over again. His fingers reach down to rub your clit and you cry out at the pleasure.

“Good boy- good Fuckin’ boy, Rafe!” You moan out. “God.. ‘m gonna cum! Gonna cum all over your cock—“

And that’s exactly what you do. Your high crashes over you in powerful waves, and Rafe lets out a small laugh as he watches you squirt all over him.

“Yeah. That’s it, momma.” He looks genuinely happy, genuinely excited and content. “I’m- I’m so proud of you, holy shit.”

“Yeah?” You try to tease calmly, but the force of your orgasm has you stuttering and shaky. “You have to come for me, too.”

And that brings Rafe back to his cock inside of you, to his unfinished orgasm, and he begins to pummel you with no remorse. His thighs slap against yours aggressively as you scream from the overstimulation. He catches sight of the bracelet you have wrapped around your ankle. It’s made of solid gold, one he had gotten you for your nineteenth birthday, that has Cameron engraved on it in thick letters. Ward and your mom had found it endearing.

‘Your brother got your last name on it!’ Your mother had gushed. ‘How sweet!’

Little did she know that it was a sign of his possession. His possession over his stepsister, his baby sis, as he called you around his family. But although Rafe owns you, he knows you’ll always be the one in control: in control of his thoughts, his mind, his body, his feelings. You’re everything.

He presses kisses to your toes. Not in a weird way.. at least he hopes it’s not in a weird way. His tongue runs along the ridges of your ankle, a little bit up your calf. His strong arms grab ahold of your thighs and push them up, up. Eventually they’re over your head, and you’re crying out for another orgasm. His nose buries itself into your neck, and he can smell you— perfume, sweat, skin, cocaine, and fuck, Rafe doesn’t think he’s ever been with someone this perfect. And when you cry out his name on your lips, when you clench around him just right, he’s filling your cunt up with thick ropes of his cum. He eats you out afterwards, of course. He’s yours, after all, and whatever you want you get. And it’s perfect, even after that: when you’re laying there while he’s on top of you, snorting that last bit of drug that you had stolen from him, his high buzzing through his brain. When your hands run through his hair and offer to put lotion on the spots where you had spanked him. It’s perfect.

Almost. Because how in the fuck are you going to explain this to your parents?

[baka-bakeneko]

Betting Man - Satoru Gojo x Fem! Reader

tags: sex bet/ cruel intentions type beat, not nsfw, teasing, friends to possible lovers, kento nanami x reader involved, slow burn bs

wc: 4.5k

synopsis: As teenagers, you and Gojo made a bet of the 'Cruel Intentions' kind, but what's crueler than time itself?

a/n: This is [somewhat] inspired by a NSFW art I saw on twitter of Gojo being more into Utahime than her him. [part two here]

It was a stupid teenage bet. One you'd think of until the end of the year when you'd inevitably give up on trying to sleep with Kento.

However, Gojo would never let it go, so hung up on trying to bed Suguru that he didn't even notice your interest in him.

"If I win, I get your glasses." You joked, leaning back in the swing to look up at Satoru.

"As if you'll get far enough to pull the stick out of Nanami's ass."

You giggled, locking eyes with Satoru, his glasses sliding to the bridge of his nose. His eyes were the stark contrast of the cotton candy sunset: bright and endless compared to the end of the day.

"I'm surprised you haven't slept with Suguru yet, you're in his space all the time."

You lifted your hands on the chains of the swing and leaned into Satoru's body, your head rested just above his waist. You watched his curious eyes dip away from yours, taking in your opened jacket and dress shirt, admiring the valley of your breasts.

"I just haven't made my move yet," he managed to say, cocky. Grabbing the chains, he pulled you back then let you swing away again.

You laughed at him, using your form to gain air up. Pulling back, you kept your legs together though your skirt caught wind and you reached to tuck it between your thighs.

When you came back in Gojo's direction, he grabbed the chains again and stopped you awkwardly. "If I win, I want your skirt."

You quirked up at him. "What, why that?"

"So I can force you to wear pants for a day."

You rolled your eyes at him, kicking your feet back and forth in the air beneath the swing.

"Too bad I'll be closer to sleeping with Kento than you Suguru."

He laughed, scoffed. Once again, his arrogance showing its ugly head, you wondered why it seemed so endearing.

"I'll get it done."

You withheld a breath of disbelief. "Yeah, okay. You call me when you do."

At that, you stood up from the swing, grabbing your backpack from the ground and turning to wave Satoru to follow.

"You gonna walk me to the train?"

And that was the end of the conversation about the bet. Especially with the events that followed. Nanami previously oblivious to your crush was soon cold and distant overall.

Satoru and Suguru, you couldn't even bear to recollect what happened between them. It just left you and your nearest friend Satoru to lean on one another for support.

-

It was embarrassing to be your age and still have a crush on Satoru and Kento. You truly thought it a thing of the past, with working with Satoru for years in curse techniques and school. And for some moments it dimmed, he was holding a shield up. More cruel than he used to be in how he joked.

But it was still Gojo every time you looked at him. You dreaded the seconds he'd take off his mask and reveal his eyes, fearing that his Infinite would see into your soul and sniff out your weakness for him.

And then Kento showed up again. You personally found yourself tucking yourself behind Yaga when Nanami showed up at the doorstep of the school.

Through peeks behind the wall of the headmaster, you caught on to Nanami's metamorphosis into man. A clean-cut, straight-laced salaryman. Exhaustion caught up with him, but made him more rugged, well-knowledgable. You wondered if he ever sought out rest more than others.

It felt like you were thrust directly back into high school yourself, ducking by two men who witnessed your own puberty firsthand. With a hand held before your face, you cut in the direction of your bedroom to avoid Nanami.

You made progress down the hall and around the corner until you bumped into Gojo on the way down the corridor.

"Where're you going?" He asked, leaning in to look at your face. "You cryin'?"

You dropped your hand as you figured you were far enough from the headmaster and Kento. "No, I am not crying. I'm avoiding..."

You looked up at Gojo, met his gaze as they were hidden by his glasses. "Talking to the headmaster. He wants to know when I'll show my technique to your first-years."

Gojo shrugged, "It comes in the situation, doesn't it? They'll see it eventually."

He stepped into you, leaning his tall body over you to look around the corner. You held your breath to stop yourself from inhaling his scent; though you'd never seen him do it, you were sure Gojo bought cologne and sprayed his inside shirts with it.

The soft sky blue-white cotton of his shirt brushed against your nose as he angled his head to gather the headmaster...talking to Kento.

"So, the headmaster, huh?" He asked, and by his tone, you were ready to accept defeat.

"Yeah, a talker he is." You side-stepped out of Satoru's bubble and started walking again.

Satoru turned and started walking a slower pace than you. "So it's not because Nanami is in there?"

You froze slightly, your hands stiffening into fists but continued your stride. "Nope. Didn't even see him."

Gojo continued following you, turning another corner with you but keeping his stance casual. You were feet ahead of him but still felt him right on your heels with his accusations.

"Hasn't he aged gracefully? Aside from those eyebags, sheesh." Gojo folded his arms behind his head, kicking his feet out. Truly enjoying himself on your internal torment.

"Yep, fantastic." You were sure it wasn't coherent to his question, but to not answer him would give Gojo that power.

"I bet he'd love to see you," Gojo teased, stopping just outside of your bedroom.

You slid open the door and stepped inside, ready to shut the door after him but Gojo waited patiently over the threshold. Staring at his glasses again, you dropped your shoulders.

"What do I do, Satoru?"

He chuckled, sliding into your room to sit on the edge of your bed. "Come on, you're an adult. It's not as serious as high school."

You turned your head after him, giving him a deadpan look. "Rejection is still rejection."

Gojo raised a foot on the edge of your bedframe, leaned into his knee to rest his cheek. "Don't I know it."

You hid a roll of your eyes by shutting them, sliding your door closed. Gojo's eyes were hard to track behind his glasses, darker than before. You sat down at your desk in the corner of the room.

"I should say 'hi' at least, right?" You asked, though a new fear began to creep up that you'd be a catalyst for all of the traumatic events that Kento went through.

He'd take one look into your eyes and be flashed horrific images of his dead friends, broken relationships, curses and more sleepless nights would ensue.

You shot up from your seat. "Nope, can't do it."

Gojo chuckled at your sudden movements. "Oh, come on. What about you being closer to winning than me?"

You scrunched your brows in question at Gojo. "Winning what?"

"The bet," Gojo stated plainly, stretching his arms out before curling them around his knee. "You did say you were closer to sleeping with him than me and--"

"Satoru, that was ten years ago. I didn't mean it seriously. I was the same distance from him as to now. Plus, there's no winning." You didn't want to explain why, because you both knew. It was hung over your heads like a dark cloud the entire time.

Gojo nodded cordially, accepting your explanation while thinking of his own. "Fine, new bet then."

He was suddenly on his feet and before you as you registered his words. "You sleep with Kento, you get my glasses. I sleep with you...I own your underwear."

"What?" You asked, your voice catching in such a way that your saliva cloyed your word. "Gojo, be serious."

Gojo smiled, leaning into you and allowing his glasses to slide to the bridge of his nose. "Just a timed bet. How long can you hold out me wooing you to get with your ten-year flame?'

"Wooing me?" you scoffed, "You think you could woo me?"

"What, like it's hard?" He retorted, slamming his hand hard onto the wall directly next to your head.

He stepped in slightly, and your chest managed one solid breath of his enriching scent. You turned your face from him, lining your tongue between your lips to steady yourself.

"I'm doing it already. And I haven't even said anything serious." His voice was breathy against your ear, tempting you to turn with the warmth ghosting over your neck.

"S-s-stop," you pushed out, your body trembling under the pressure.

Gojo was away from you in a second, his hands in the air to claim innocence. "Whatever you say."

A beat of silence fell between the two of you. You regained your composure and turned to him again. "Why would you want to do that?"

Satoru stashed his hands in his pockets. "It's either you or Utahime, and you've seen how she acts."

You turned up your nose, your heart struck by his words. It felt jealous, the vines that en-capsuled your stomach and thorns to pierce your lungs. Was this jealousy, him making you his second plaything?

You cloaked a gulp with a fix of your collar. Though the words were demeaning to your ego, you were affixed into his efforts so far. It wouldn't hurt to see how far he was willing to go just for his entertainment.

You turned away from him, facing the wall behind you as you thought of your next words wisely. Eyes squeezed shut, you held your arms around your body to think of rules to abide by.

However, your thighs felt hot as you continued to think of it; between focusing on Nanami and fighting off Gojo, you were sure to be overwhelmed.

It felt that Gojo was boring into you with his Infinite, ready to dissect your very being with his boyish charms and sharp-tongue wit. You turned back around, taking in a deep breath in then out.

"Fine." You stated, opening your eyes and releasing your arms. "But I want some ground rules."

"Go ahead," Gojo smiled, crossing his arms while leaning against your opposite wall. "I'm listening."

"No public displays of any sort," you started, slashing a hand leveling the air. "I don't want your first-years to see any of your pervish behavior."

"What about your pervish behavior?" Gojo asked, bringing his thenar to rest his chin on in ponder.

You shook your head. "I will not be showing any pervish behavior because I will be discreet and adult. As you should be."

Gojo pushed his glasses up to shield his eyes once more. "Fine. What else?"

"I will not allow any skirt-tugging, hair-pulling, nibbling or licking of the sort."

Satoru's brows knitted together, peeling his glasses down to reveal his deep stare. "Save it for the bedroom, got it."

You ignored his comment, looking anywhere else but at your friend. "Since I feel like you'll lose interest in a month, we'll make it two weeks."

Satoru feigned offense at your comment, his hand bracing his chest as he gasped. "You insinuate I can't keep it up?"

But you weren't acknowledging that of Gojo. You were imagining Utahime showing up once more and Gojo tearing his eyes away from you to play with her again.

It disrupted your stomach, your mouth now acidic with jealousy. You were enveloped in your own thought, ignoring Gojo for the moment.

He was before you once again, this time taking hold of your chin to look at him. His thumb softly lined under your lip while his index stroked under your chin.

"Eyes on me, I got lonely for a second." He teased once again.

"When I win, and I will win," he began, leaning in to whisper against your lips. "I will keep you in skirts everyday to admire my prize."

You felt your cheeks blush at him, ready to wedge your hand before his mouth to keep you from kissing him. He would not win easily.

He would not win. Period.

-

You gathered yourself and made your way back to the main corridor in Gojo's shadow to greet Nanami.

"Nanami!" Gojo exclaimed, something about his tone mirroring a scene you were witness to a decade ago.

His arms extended, Gojo reached out for a hug but Nanami remained stiff in his tan suit. Awkwardly, Gojo rested his arm around Nanami's shoulders and turned to you.

"Look, it's Nanami." He playfully flourished his hand just under Kento's stern-cut jaw, his hair immaculately quaffed and parted.

"Kento, it's--"

"I remember," Kento cut in, his eyes hidden by a pair of green-tinted goggles. "It's been so long. You haven't aged a day."

You stammered to respond, only holding Kento's gaze while Gojo looked between the two of you.

"You either. You seem well off," you uttered back, gesturing a hand out at his ensemble.

Kento smiled stringently. "It's really good to see you."

You softened almost immediately. "You too."

Gojo hid a roll of his eyes behind his glasses, retracting his arm from Nanami. "Come on, let's go meet my first-years."

Yaga led the way, leaving Nanami to follow and Gojo to lead up behind. He wisped after you, getting your attention from the back of Nanami's head.

Meeting Gojo's gaze, you watched as he made a 'V' with his fingers, sliding his tongue between them and flicking it at you. You turned your head to the ceiling, fearing your eyes would be honed in on the action and you'd fold.

You stared at the ceiling, wondering what you were really putting yourself into with this new bet. It was another moment to think about your next moves, your heart settling from talking to Kento and witnessing Gojo in the same room.

You steadied your thoughts, righting your head before following slowly behind the three men to learn more of the situation.

When you rejoined the headmaster and two men, you stood close behind Yaga as Yuji, Nobara and Megumi introduced themselves to Nanami.

You kept quiet, following the headmaster close behind as your personal guard though you were a teacher yourself. Less powerful than Gojo but worthy to learn from, as Yaga previously mentioned.

Arms crossed, you stood off to be in the know of the situation. You felt detached enough from the interaction itself, but close enough to be involved.

"So, when will you show me your technique?" Gojo asked, taking the space on the wall next to you.

You scoffed, straightening up from him. "You've seen it before."

"Yeah, when we were younger," he explained, leaning over your shoulder.

His hand planted itself against your thigh, and you acknowledged it with a soft breath. "But since then, I've been saving your ass. Why not show me?"

You focused harder over Yaga's shoulder, surprised the diligent headmaster wasn't aware of Gojo no longer front and center.

"Like you said, when the situation shows itself." You said, tightening your arms before your chest.

Gojo's hand slid up your leg, just under the hem of your skirt. You swatted a hand out to scold him, though he ducked his face into your neck to stifle his laugh.

"That's cute, really."

"I told you, no public displays," you scolded softly, grabbing his hand to pry it from your leg.

"Technically, we're private enough. My students can't see you, Kento is oblivious..."

"Satoru," you said, as calm as you could. "I will take this as your forfeit."

"Nu-uh," Satoru teased, his hand resuming under your skirt.

You were emboldened by his touch, channeling your racing heart to focus on Kento. Gojo's hand crept up to your hip, his middle finger lining under your panty line.

This time, you felt the heat in your body accumulate in the palm of your hand and you swatted Gojo's fingers away; your hand enveloped in a soft white glow with the heat of a meteor slammed over Gojo's and he winced at the sheer force.

Retreating his hand, you waved your white glowing hand at him flippantly. "Don't be a pest in front of your students."

-

After meeting with the first-years, Kento called it a day. Gojo had mentioned to him about working with Yuji in an off-campus study and you stood patiently for your moment to speak.

"If you decide to send Yuji, why not accompany him for the day?" Kento's attention and question shifted from Gojo to you.

You raised your brows, not looking over your shoulder though Gojo did over to you. He grinned and turned back to Kento.

"I'm sure she'd love to see you in action. Show her how it's done, Nanami."

Nanami ignored Gojo, only focusing on you and your answer. You managed a nod.

"I wouldn't mind chaperoning Yuji to the city."

Kento's lips made the minute angle to smile as he straightened his suit jacket. With that, he reset his straight face and started in the direction of the door. Gojo followed after him, opening and closing the door after his friend.

Your heard his boisterous voice, him laughing while Kento's voice was measured and monotonous. Minutes passed and you made your way to the kitchen to make dinner.

Turning in that direction, Gojo ran back through the front door and curled his arm around your waist. "I've got your back. Talked you up to Nanami."

You hid a roll of your eyes, feeling Satoru's hand breeze down to cup your ass. "Gee, thanks."

Your hand found the side of Satoru's face, shoving his close face away from you. Still, he wasn't deterred with his fingers teasing under the hem of your skirt.

"Until then, I'll keep you warm," he said, grinning and leaning back into you.

His breath wafted down your neck, his forehead gently brushed against your temple. Gojo's glasses slid down the bridge of his nose, his free hand going for the tie of your shirt.

"Why don't we go relax in your room?"

"Are you going to be my friend during this or are you just trying to win?"

Satoru chuckled, squeezing you tighter into his side. "Of course I am. After I win, we'll all go back to normal."

You smirked, though his words struck your feelings. Every instance you had of ever wanting to kiss Gojo, to fall in love with him was hacked to a half-life by his words.

You weren't sure what you wanted if he won. Shaking your head, you were reminded that you wouldn't let Satoru win. You had willpower to not give in to his boyish charm, especially since he was doing it because he was bored of Utahime.

"You're not going to win," you sang, breaking away from Gojo to break for the kitchen.

Gojo teasingly chased after you, tugging at the flurry of your skirt when you were finally stopped at the counter to grab a pot. "Wanna bet?" he chuckled.

He playfully bumped into you, his body pressing you against the counter as his hand braced your shoulder. You froze in his space, carefully grabbing your pot and turning on the water.

Satoru was close behind you as you attempted to boil water, his hands on your shoulders sliding down your back before bracing your waist.

"I'll make it worth your while," Gojo purred, his hands circling around you.

"Nice try," you said in a breath, raising on your toes to search the cabinets.

You felt Satoru's hands brace your stomach, his fingers catching on the untuck of your shirt before sliding his warm hand against your bare skin.

His fingers tickled along your sternum, watching you struggle to grab your ramen. When you relaxed, his fingers remained, trailing to touch the meet of your bra to your ribs. You shakily exhaled, your hand clasping over your shirt to stop Satoru's fingers from traveling further.

"Go sit and I'll fix you dinner too," you tried, attempting to reverse Gojo's fingers out of your shirt.

He rested his chin on your shoulder, his body pressing a touch firmer to yours. You felt a ridge of him fitted just against the curve of your ass, warm yet mostly benign. Your eyes tried to focus before you, feeling your pussy throb at the welcome closeness.

"I'll take you out to eat, my treat," Gojo whispered against your ear.

You stiffened your neck, rolling your head away from his warm breath. "In exchange for your win, hmm?"

Satoru pulled you into him, his fingers sliding over your bra to line the inside of your cup. "That's too easy. It's up to you..." He turned into your neck to draw his lips against your skin. "to treat me to dessert after. I'd love to taste your pussy."

You grit instantly, realizing you were getting too comfortable in Gojo's hold. Peeling out of his long arms, you dropped the pan into the sink and shut off the water. You paused at the refrigerator, turning around to face Satoru.

"Dinner, fine. But the only dessert you're getting is dango."

Gojo smirked mischievously, his eyes darting to take all of you in. He straightened up, folding a hand in his pocket. "Deal."

-

Satoru held a takoyaki on a skewer out for you to eat. It hung unevenly and you had to duck down to capture the octopus ball in your mouth.

Gojo smiled at you, holding the food trough while he folded his hand over his mouth to laugh. You chewed at hot fried ball, standing up while you blew out the hot air from your mouth.

"Good, right?" Satoru asked as you finally muscled down the molten pieces of octopus.

You nodded after a few seconds; your tongue was burnt in places but from the seasoned dough, you were impressed. Better than your kabob skewers which you ate with no enthusiasm.

"Leave it to you to cheap out on a date," you teased, opting to drink your soda to soothe your mouth.

"First date," Gojo corrected, stabbing a takoyaki and popping it into his mouth. "Gotta see if you're worth a second."

A warmth sprouted in your stomach, coiling around your spine ready to travel up. Still, you met his eyes and cut away. "How far have you gotten with Utahime?"

Gojo pursed his lips, his mouth full of takoyaki. "Not this far." He chewed, keeping your eyes. "Not yet anyways."

Every backhanded comment of his killed your interest in a millisecond; your stomach suddenly turned at the oil following the octopus ball.

You smacked your lips after your soda and started walking again down the bright night streets. "Guess you're trying out your best spots on me first?"

"Noo," Gojo drew out, following close behind you. "I'll take her to a whole different area."

You rolled your eyes at him, leaning over when he offered another octopus ball.

"But don't worry, I'll talk about you to her the whole time." He smiled as you bit off the fried dough from his toothpick; your eyes met and you pulled back to chew.

There it was again, the warmth now migrating up from your toes to not strike your heart cold again. You held your fingers before your mouth again, biting and breathing at the hot food.

The two of you kept walking, sharing food and soda, while admiring the open market stalls. After a few quips back and forth, you two tossed away your trash then started towards the train station.

While waiting at the platform, Gojo slid his arm around your waist and pulled you in. Nothing to try, just a friendly side-squeeze. You glanced up at him, noticed him already staring down at you.

In the silence, you smiled at him and he reciprocated; his eyes sparkled against the fluorescent lights and you were infatuated by their opulence.

"Tell me something," Satoru said finally, just as the train pulled into the station. "And be honest with me."

You readied yourself with another quip of Gojo's; rolling your shoulders back, you waited for his question to sting like everything else did.

"What's it about Nanamin that you like?"

Your smile dropped, seeing his do the same. You opened your mouth to explain, but was interrupted by the rush of crowd off of the train. Then you and Gojo were a part of the crowd in.

He kept you close to him, grabbing the overhead handrail while you still clung to his side. You were still silent, wanting to explain something of Nanami but unsure where it went.

"He's...straightforward. He knows what he wants, so he doesn't play...with people's feelings," you said, your voice trialing off.

You dropped your gaze from Satoru's, unsure of whether to continue. "He makes me feel heard, all the time."

Gojo said nothing else, his arm never leaving around you. As the crowd got thicker, he tightened his hold and kept quiet the whole ride back.

-

You readied for bed, undoing your outfit one piece at a time before replacing them with your pajamas. You undid your hair, brushed your teeth for bed and climbed into bed ready to let go of the day.

A knock on your door gave you pause, knowing it to only be one person. You called for him to come in, and Gojo slid open your door while dressed down in a black shirt and pajama pants.

He slid the door closed after him then shuffled across your room before climbing into bed next to you. You watched as he got comfortable against your headboard, tucking the pillow behind his head before nudging you in the knee.

Without a word, you shifted in the direction of him and sat up against the headboard. Reaching behind you, you grabbed your book and flipped it open to the last page you dog-eared.

It was as if the tension was never built; your feelings were once again stashed deep inside while you read aloud the latest book in a series that you'd gotten Gojo interested in.

He tucked the second pillow in his arms, cuddling it as he turned on his side to give you his full attention. Though you wouldn't mention it, Satoru looked good in your bed.

In a breath, he placed his hand in the middle of your book and pulled it down to look at you. You waited, staring blankly at him in the dim nightlight of your room.

Satoru pushed himself up on his elbow and leaned forward slowly; it was slow enough to not feel invaded, as if you were doing it yourself. His lips braced yours, pulling a soft sigh from you.

You didn't lean forward, only stayed in place for his hand to touch the nape of your neck. He kissed you with such gentility, you almost felt that you were dreaming.

Before you could even get caught up in the embrace of your friend, you rested a hand to Satoru's shoulder and broke away from him. It only confused you further.

"Good night, Satoru," you said after a moment of silence.

Undeterred, Satoru sat up and pat your bare thigh. "Goodnight. See you in the morning."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

don't worry, i'm working a part two soon. hopefully the feedback to this will warrant it

[shakingparadigm]

Seeing all those analysis posts about how Till liked Mizi because she was gentle while not giving the same attention to Ivan because he wasn't... how Ivan might have made Till uncomfortable because he expressed his admiration for Till through violence because he liked how Till had the courage to fight back...

I was wandering if Ivan ever realized that the way he went about showing his feelings wasn't positive for Till and he fucking did. "I wish I had been kinder" he fucking regrets dude, fuck me man.

(This veered wildly off-topic I am so sorry.)

Coming back to this ask after the most recent R6 update is interesting.

I've always wondered why they chose the title Cure in particular. I was expecting a song title along the lines of Star or something abyssal. Then I thought about Till's affiliation with experiments and drugs and the various ways he was hurt. Cure... It also brings to mind how the content for Ivan highlights his "oddness", how he's framed as someone different, almost wrong in a sense. There's something that he lacks, something that he feels the need to fix, to cure.

In the recent ROUND 6 production post, the true meaning is revealed. You're right on a certain level, but as always, it's complicated.

Both Ivan and Till seek a certain type of "healing", maybe to compensate for their pain, their oddness and their loneliness. They wish to be cured of their suffering somehow and they seek the solution in other people.

QMENG states that Till desires a type of healing that Ivan cannot provide, and vice versa.

It goes without saying, pretty common knowledge at this point, but Till is a lot softer under his rebellious front. As someone who's been beat and abused his whole life, it makes sense that that type of love he'd want is something gentler, something stable. It's incredibly obvious in the way he acts towards Mizi. She's so genuine, so bright, untainted by the cruel reality of the world. Till softens around her, since she has only showed him kindness he in turn shows her the sweetest side of himself. He's had nothing stable to cling onto before, so he immediately becomes attached to this idealized version of Mizi. He believes she's the only person who can provide him with what he needs, the only one who can "heal" him.

It's outright stated that Ivan cannot provide that type of "healing" that Till is looking for. Ivan does try, of course. Unfortunately, he lacks something fundamental. Because of this he expresses himself in rather childish ways, which may involve a little cruelty and attention-seeking. A lot of Ivan's actions are muddled by his complicated feelings as well, as its stated that his true emotions and intentions are difficult to grasp. With Till, Ivan wants to save and be saved, hurt and heal him, keep him and set him free. Live for him and die for him. He criticizes Sua on the ethics of self-sacrifice and then goes on to do the same himself. With Ivan, everything contradicts.

He tries desperately to be the cure that Till needs, but due to his incredibly complex nature that "healing" will never be just healing. It may come with more pain and confusion despite his best efforts.

I don't think Till refused to give Ivan attention because he wasn't gentle enough, rather I think it's because everything was so complicated whenever Ivan was involved. Ivan is there for him in his times of need and causes a fair bit of trouble during the rest. He's strange and hard to grasp, but he's familiar. Calling each other "friends" seemed like such an inadequate label because they're simultaneously too close and not close enough. Ivan does wish he was kinder, though. Not only to Till, but to Sua and most likely a few other people as well. There's a lot of aspects in which Ivan wishes he were different, and it's tragic to hear how he deprecates himself in his final moments for it.

There's the second half of QMENG's statement as well, "vice versa". Till cannot provide what Ivan needs either, but Ivan desperately desires it anyway.

Ivan views Till as his cure. He wants to not only "heal" Till, but to be healed by him as well. This desire can be seen in the lyrics of Cure:

Notice my pain

And mend me right now

To quiet my fears

I'll drown in you

(The wish for "healing" is stated.)

In your gaze, where I’m seen

Consume me, yes, me, oh, oh

(Ivan urges Till to "consume" him like medicine, he wishes to be what Till needs.)

Ivan lacks something, and he believes that Till can make up for that lack which is why he's so fascinated by him. If Ivan is a black abyss, Till is a supernova, bringing life to an empty void. Unfortunately, Till is explosive and rather inept at handling his own extreme emotions, which causes him to either lash out violently or retreat further inward and push Ivan away. He's also a thoroughly destructive and hurt individual, seeking his own cure in another form. He cannot provide what Ivan needs.

Both Ivan and Till are incredibly volatile. That's not to say they don't have their gentler sides, but overall they've been doomed from the start. Ultimately it's no fault of theirs, they did what they could with their complicated feelings and fought through their own respective hells.

In the end, Ivan had to come to terms with the fact that he couldn't get the "healing" he needed and could never be what Till needed, either. That's why he finally acted on his impulses and let his complicated feelings win over, resulting in his death. Despite all the heartache, his final thoughts are a statement of gratitude. Truly a tragedy.

[shapard]

How about helluva boss satan x Dragon Slayer reader relationship headcanons? I've got the idea for one where the dragon slayer is loosely inspired by Piers Shonks and I'd be curious to see your take on it.

Satan x Dragonslayer!reader

Tw: Fighting (not too bad though)

Here you go! Hope you enjoyyyyy

The story begins under the cut

You were raised in a lineage of dragon slayers, sworn to protect humanity from mythical threats. Inspired by the legend of Piers Shonks, your training emphasized both physical combat and spiritual resilience. The Kasugai Crow on your shoulder was not just a guide but a manifestation of your bond with the divine, delivering cryptic messages and warnings.

The dragon in question had wreaked havoc—villages reduced to ash, families torn apart. The idea of failure was unthinkable. Your katana gleamed with enchantments, each one honed to slay monstrous entities. Yet you weren’t prepared for what you’d face.

When you first met Satan, he wasn’t the typical rampaging beast you expected. His form was both terrifying and oddly majestic—horns that spiraled like molten obsidian, scales that shimmered like burning coals, and eyes that bore the weight of eternity.

Your first strike was fierce, but his laughter cut through the tension. “A slayer with spirit,” he mused, catching your blade mid-swing between his claws. The metal didn’t even scratch him.

Bored of the infernal monotony and unimpressed by humanity’s petty attempts at summoning, Satan found you intriguing. Your techniques were different—ancient, laced with forgotten power—and your resolve unshakable, even in the face of certain death.

“You amuse me, little slayer,” he said, his voice a mix of mockery and genuine intrigue. “You can’t kill me, but you’re welcome to try.”

Satan decided to keep you close, like a curious pet or an unsolvable puzzle. He imposed a cruel condition: he wouldn’t return to Hell until you proved capable of killing him. For you, failure wasn’t an option.

Despite his monstrous nature, Satan took a strange pleasure in mentoring you—offering cryptic advice about your form or taunting you into improving your strength. “That swing was pathetic. Do it again, with intent this time.”

Over time, your clashes became a dance. Each swing of your blade, each strategy you employed, pushed you closer to the limits of human capability. Yet Satan remained unyielding.

In moments of respite, you found yourself speaking to him—not as an enemy but as a reluctant companion. He’d listen with a smirk as you spoke of your training, your family’s legacy, and the burden of your duty. In return, he’d share fragments of his own existence, painting a picture of a Hell that wasn’t so different from Earth.

The line between hunter and hunted blurred. You resented Satan for his superiority and his role in your failures, but you couldn’t deny his wisdom or the strange comfort his presence provided.

Satan, for his part, began to see you as more than a mere mortal. Your stubbornness reminded him of his own defiance in the celestial war. “Your technique is Incredible. You’re so fierce,” he admitted one evening, watching the firelight dance in your eyes. “I like that.”

One night, after another failed attempt to harm him, you collapsed in frustration. Tears pricked your eyes as you bit back sobs. Satan watched silently before speaking, his voice unusually soft. “Y/n?” You looked over to him, his claws went over your cheek. Shocked you looked at him as he whiped your tears away. “You’re strong don’t forget that.”

He didn’t comfort you outright—he wasn’t the type—but his presence that night felt less like a tormentor’s and more like an ancient force that understood your pain.

You grew stronger, not just physically but mentally. Your techniques became sharper, your resolve deeper. And while you couldn’t harm Satan, you began to sense a shift in his demeanor. His taunts grew less cruel, his advice more genuine.

Satan, too, began to change. His heart started to beat faster and he seemed to yearn for your touch. 

The question lingered between you: What would happen if you succeeded? Would you truly be able to kill him, or would the bond you’d forged make such a victory hollow?

hough neither of you would admit it outright, there was a connection that transcended your roles. Satan teased you about it relentlessly. “Careful, slayer. You might start liking me.” Your reply was always sharp, but the faintest blush on your cheeks betrayed you.

In his human form, he was almost unrecognizable from the monster you had spent months battling. Gone were the horns, scales, and infernal glow. Instead, he appeared majestic, otherworldly in a way that made your chest tighten. His broad shoulders moved fluidly as he walked, muscles shifting beneath a simple, crisp shirt. The sunlight caught the gold in his hair and illuminated his sharp, regal features.

Your heart betrayed you. It pounded erratically, so loud you feared he might hear it.

“What are you staring at?” Satan’s deep, smooth voice pulled you from your reverie. He turned his head slightly, his piercing eyes catching yours. A smirk played on his lips, the kind that spoke of knowing far more than he let on.

“Nothing,” you muttered quickly, looking away. But your voice wavered, and the lie tasted bitter in your mouth.

Satan chuckled softly, the sound low and warm like distant thunder. It made your knees feel weak, your resolve falter. He took a step closer, forcing you to meet his gaze. “Are you sure?” he asked, tilting his head with a playful, almost predatory gleam in his eyes.

You swallowed hard and nodded, forcing a tight-lipped smile. Your lips twitched with bitterness. You should hate him. You should kill him. Those words repeated in your mind like a mantra, yet they were hollow against the drumbeat of your treacherous heart.

Satan knew. Of course he did. He always seemed to know what you were feeling, even before you did. But he didn’t press further. Instead, he turned away, gazing out at the sea of flowers that swayed gently in the breeze. For a moment, he looked almost peaceful—content.

You hated that your heart ached for him in moments like this. The contradiction tore at you: the overwhelming guilt of what you felt for the very creature you were sworn to destroy, and the quiet, unspoken joy of being near him.

“You know,” Satan said suddenly, his voice soft but laced with something deeper. “For all your talk of duty and justice, you’re just as much a sinner as I am.” He glanced at you over his shoulder, his smirk gone. In its place was something more genuine—something that made you feel naked under his gaze.

“We’ve committed the greatest sin of all, haven’t we?” he continued. His tone wasn’t mocking; it was almost... wistful. “Falling in love.”

The words hit you like a blade to the chest. You couldn’t deny it. Not anymore. The truth was written in every glance, every unspoken word, and every fleeting moment when your katana remained sheathed by choice, not weakness.

Your hands clenched at your sides. You wanted to deny him, to shout at him, to swing your blade and end this dangerous game once and for all. But instead, you whispered, “Yes.”

He turned fully to face you, the golden light casting him in an almost angelic glow. It was ironic, you thought bitterly. The Devil himself looking like salvation.

For a moment, neither of you moved. The space between you felt heavy with unspoken words, forbidden feelings, and the weight of your shared sin. Then, he reached out, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from your face.

“You know this won’t end well,” he said softly, his voice almost tender.

“I know,” you replied, your heart breaking even as it raced. But for now, you let yourself fall deeper into the sin that bound you both.

Heheeee I hope this met your expectations✨🧚🏾‍♀️

💫

[marble-anime]

Consume

Pairing: Ken Kaneki x Reader, mentions of Ayato Kirishima and Tatara x Reader

Summary: After being captured by the Aogiri Tree, Kaneki learns just how cruel ghouls can be. When whispers of what the higher ups kept you around for reach his ears, he offers you a moment of release in an attempt to ease your pain.

Disclaimer: Minors DNI, This follows the plot in the manga

Warnings: mentions of violence, slavery, use of aphrodisiacs, implied noncon, dubcon, unprotected sex, gentle sex, creampie, emotions

Word Count: 2.6k

Kaneki fought the urge to tear his eyes away from the ungodly sight of his blood-soaked hands tangled in a fresh corpse’s organs. He should’ve expected something like this when members of the Aogiri Tree broke into Anteiku and beat him to a pulp. But even after he’d been captured, he was still naive enough to think that he’d be able to find some type of common ground with them. Or at least be given a little mercy, considering one of his captures was none other than his best friend's brother.

It was all just wishful thinking. Touka’s brother was just as deranged as every other Aogiri member despite the fact that he considered himself to be ‘soft’ in comparison. Of course, Kaneki knew that whatever they had planned for him wouldn’t be pleasant, but he didn’t think it would be this bad. Grime built under his nails as he tore apart flesh and muscle, staining his own skin burgundy in the process. The unfortunate victim’s insides turning to sludge between his fingers with the slightest squeeze.

He felt like he was going to vomit. Although the horribly gory sight was enough to make anyone faint, the worst part was the hunger stirring inside him. He’d spent so much time starving himself, trying not to feast on human flesh, that the smell was almost inviting. He clutched onto his morals tightly, the endless string of bodies that he and his fellow captives were expected to pick apart did a good job of reminding him that this was no blessing in disguise but instead the worst imaginable torture for a prisoner of the Aogiri Tree. Unbeknownst to him, the worst was yet to come.

He pulled his gaze away to stop his head from spinning and caught a glimpse of you outside the doorway. You were following closely behind Ayato. Just the sight of you filled him with an immense amount of pity as he recalled his previous conversation with Banjou. When the anti-Aogiri group welcomed him with open arms, Banjou had filled him in on what they knew about each of the higher ups and their schedules. They were planning an escape and Kaneki was in on it from the moment they revealed their strategy.

But you had plagued his mind. You often brought him food just as you did for the other prisoners. A tiny slab of meat was all the Aogiri would allow each of them, it was just enough to keep them alive. You had always been kind to him but it was obvious to anyone that you were miserable. You never spoke unless you were spoken to and even then it seemed as if you were devoid of any personality. There were dark bags under your eyes and you were always shaking, Kaneki couldn’t tell if it was from the weather or malnourishment. Honestly, it might’ve been both. Even in the winter, all you wore was a thin night dress that stopped not even halfway down your thighs. And he doubted that you were being fed any more than the other captives.

He brought you up during one of the meetings thinking that you’d love nothing more than to escape. He hadn’t even known your name at the time but the others knew exactly who he was talking about. Even though he’d truly had the best intentions in mind, the grim expressions on his fellow prisoners’ faces made him think that he’d said something wrong. Banjou told him that even if you did want to escape, it would be almost impossible.

And from there on he explained everything. Your name was Y/N and the reason it would cause so much trouble to try and include you in their escape was because you were nearly always being watched by one of the higher ups. Kaneki remembered Banjou’s exact words, “When Ayato caught Tatara’s eye he was reluctant to join the Aogiri and the chaos he caused among the wards was too much for Tatara to contain so he offered up Y/N as a welcoming gift. He uses her as a pawn to keep Ayato in check.” The implications of what role you played in this organization made his stomach drop, his worries were only confirmed when Banjou added, “They give her regular aphrodisiacs so she can’t resist him. It’s sick.”

Allegedly, you were originally Tatara’s personal plaything before he’d given you to Ayato. Rumors said that even now whenever Ayato left the Aogiri’s base, Tatara would take the time to relieve the needs that the drugs caused you. If anyone was caught gossiping about your connection to Tatara, they would be killed faster than they could even say your name, which confirmed two things. One, that the rumors were more than likely true. And two, that Ayato probably had no idea.

Kaneki sat on the floor by himself as he waited for you to bring him his rations for the day. The manual labor from earlier that day left his arms sore and his stomach hollow. Your footsteps echoed down the hall until you entered the empty room to find Kaneki sitting with his back against the wall. You kneeled beside him and handed him the small chunk of meat wrapped in a cloth.

When he unwrapped his food he felt sick to his stomach. Flashes of how he’d been forced to tear apart lifeless bodies plagued his brain as he wondered which one of the corpses the meat belonged to. For all he knew it could’ve been from one of the bodies that he stripped down to the bone. No matter how hungry he was he couldn’t bring himself to eat something that came from an innocent civilian that was murdered in cold blood.

He looked at you as you were still kneeling beside him. He took in your appearance, your whole body was quivering, your hands were planted on the ground with your thighs tightly pressing themselves together around your forearms, shaky breaths escaped your lips and your pupils were blown wide. You were clearly under the influence of the aphrodisiac but you seemed worse than he had ever seen you before.

Today had been Ayato’s day to leave the stronghold but he was almost sure that the rumors of Tatara having you in Ayato’s absence were true. Perhaps Tatara was too busy to pay you any mind or maybe he was simply denying your needs as a punishment. The thought sent shivers down Kaneki’s spine. What they were doing to you was cruel, scratch that, it was so much worse than cruel. Out of all the prisoners of the Aogiri Tree, you were the one who was suffering the most. They were pumping you full of drugs so they could bend you to their will but when you were left with desires that weren’t even your own to begin with, they didn’t feel like they owed you any type of relief.

He held the meat out to you as he offered, “You can have it if you’re hungry.”

You frantically shook your head and pushed it back toward him, looking almost fearful. He set it on the ground and reached a hand out once again. This time he tucked your hair behind your ear, gently stroking your cheek with his thumb, trying to offer you some type of comfort. You closed your eyes and nuzzled into his hand. The words had stumbled out of his mouth before he had the chance to actually think about what he was saying, “I can help you.”

Your eyes quickly reopened, you were probably shocked by his offer. You stared at him as you thought about what he said. Your unsure gaze was making Kaneki believe that he’d crossed the line. But before he could apologize you leaned in close and softly pressed your lips against his. The kiss was as light as a feather as if the both of you were hesitant and timid.

You pulled away first and laid on your back, flinching at the feeling of the cold floor below you. The end of your nightgown pooled at your waist as you spread your legs, exposing your soaked panties. Kaneki blushed at the sight before he noticed you shivering. He pulled off his shirt and laid it over top of you, it wasn’t much but at least it was something. You were unfamiliar with being shown this kind of genuine consideration but you welcomed it nonetheless, tucking your arms under the shirt and pulling it up to your chin in an attempt to keep yourself warm.

He hooked his fingers along the sides of your panties and pulled them down your legs, your slick sticking to the fabric. You watched as he unzipped his pants and pulled his cock out. To your surprise, he was still soft. Usually, your partners, if you could even call them that, were always painfully hard and raring to go. He pumped his cock until he was fully erect and climbed on top of you. He balanced himself on his forearm, his face now inches away from yours. You could tell that he wasn’t sure what to do next so you reached between your bodies and grasped his cock, lining it up with your entrance.

He hesitated, “Are you sure?”

The look of concern on his face made your stomach flutter accompanied by a pleasant feeling you’d long forgotten since being dragged into the Aogiri. You nodded and he pushed into you carefully, although he wasn’t experienced himself he at least knew that the woman usually needed a moment to adjust. What he didn’t know was that with your day-to-day activities, the pain upon entry no longer bothered you. He filled you up perfectly. Your pussy clenched around him as you finally spoke to him for the first time that night, “You can move now.”

However, Kaneki kept his hips still as he was buried balls deep inside you. His cock felt so snug inside you, he had to resist the urge to cum right then. This was supposed to be all about helping you but he hadn’t expected it to feel so good. When he began thrusting into you, he took his time to ensure that he wouldn’t finish before he was able to relieve you. He hid his face in your neck, guilt consuming him for enjoying this so much. Banjou’s words echoed in his head, ‘It’s sick’. He knew it was fucking sick but he couldn’t help it. The overwhelming pleasure he felt rutting into you caused his mind to construe his own good intentions as being aligned with that of the perverted Aogiri that had taken advantage of you. When he let out a strangled moan you ran your fingers through his hair, sweetly shushing him to keep you two from being caught.

Goosebumps littered Kaneki’s arms from the cold air but between the friction of your bodies and Kaneki’s baggy shirt, you were nice and warm. Ironically, you felt more comfortable being fucked by a stranger on the cold floor than you had in either of your captor's beds. He was so much more gentle and caring than Ayato and Tatara had been. The only sound in the room was the quiet whimpers and hushed pants shared between the two of you.

Suddenly, it felt as if you were having some kind of out of body experience. You saw yourself laying on the ground with Kaneki on top of you, his hips moving in a slow broken rhythm. Your face was clouded with pleasure, you wondered if you always wore that fucked out expression when you had sex. You doubted it. Especially since half the time your face was being shoved into the pillow and the other half your features were scrunched up in pain. The soft stroke of Kaneki’s cock against your walls was such a nice change from the rough pounding you were usually given.

Watching him pleasure you with care and kindness left you mesmerized. This was what it was like to truly enjoy intimacy with another person. To relish in every touch, squeeze, thrust, kiss, and stroke. It wasn’t just meaningless sex to reach your orgasm, you were honestly loving every minute of this. You wouldn’t mind it if this was what you did every day. As you watched Kaneki tend to your needs you wondered if you’d ever be able to do this again, to decide what you wanted to do with your body and when you wanted to do it. You wondered if you’d ever be free.

You were brought back into your own body as a wave of euphoria crashed into you, leaving your body quivering just as it had before but this time in release rather than need. Your shaky legs wrapped around Kaneki’s waist, trapping his hips against you. He picked up on what your reaction meant and finally let himself go, your pussy milked his cock dry of all his warm cum.

As Kaneki tried to catch his breath, you held his shirt out to him, “Thank you.”

From then on whenever you brought Kaneki his rations for the day, he would tell you about the escape plan he and the others had. And when he met with the anti-Aogiri group he’d relay any messages you had for them. You had been able to open up to him and he felt responsible for your wellbeing. It was only a matter of time before you two would be able to escape, he’d take you back to Anteiku where you would make friends and be protected. If only the escape had gone down the way you’d all hoped

It started out pretty smoothly, you had been able to make it out of the stronghold with the anti-Aogiri. What no one had expected was the Bin brothers’ ambush. You should’ve seen it coming. Tatara was able to read you like a book, of course, he would suspect something was up when he began to see a glimmer of hope in your eyes. You were thrown into a cell with the rest of the escapees, except for Kaneki who’d been taken by Yamori.

Although your suffering was at the hands of Ayato and Tatara, you knew that whatever would happen to Kaneki would be far worse than anything any of you had experienced. It didn’t take a genius to know that Yamori was a sadist. He’d put Kaneki through the worst kind of torture imaginable and there was a pretty big chance that he’d die in the process. Your stomach turned and you were riddled with guilt. He’d been so kind to you, you should’ve just left him be. Maybe then he wouldn’t be in this position.

Suddenly, the cell wall was kicked in. Through the smoke, all you could see was the outline of a person with white hair. Tatara. You curled up in a ball and tears ran down your cheeks, he was surely here to punish you. When the smoke cleared you were met with the sight of the last person you expected. It was Kaneki, not Tatara. His hair was white instead of black. Your heart dropped at the overly cheerful expression on his face as he greeted you all.

“How-?” you began.

Your words were cut off when he wrapped his arms around you. “It’s okay.” Fear coursed through you as his hold tightened. His sense of responsibility for you twisting and contorting into something sinister. “No one will ever hurt you again.”

Of course. You’d been able to escape the arms of your captors and were thrust into the arms of a newfound monster that they’d created. There really was no escape from the Aogiri.

[seravphs]

beating hearts promised to bared teeth — part one: “The God Finds A Familiar” 

KITSUNE! GOJO x GOD! FEM READER; KAMISAMA HAJIMEMASHITA AU

When a kind stranger offers you his home because your gambling addict of a father can’t pay rent, you’re left in charge of a shrine - with a catch. Once you arrive at your new home, you learn a crucial fact that he conveniently left out. You’re the new god in charge, and his familiar, who now belongs to you, does not like you. What’s a new god to do, especially when she finds herself slowly falling for the fox spirit?

wc — 10k

tags — enemies to lovers, shoujo manga heroine type reader, Japanese mythology/yokai, age gap (1000 year old fox and high school girl), slowburn, cameo from Sukuna, Toji, and Nanami, cameo from original Kamisama Hajimemashita cast

part two — “The God Finds A Husband” (coming soon)

shoujo series masterlist

If your stomach growls any louder, you’ll scare off the squirrels fighting over the end of a baguette loaf by the park bench you’re sitting on. 

You’re currently in the middle of what others might describe as very hard times. To be honest, your very hard times have been going on for a while now - they just culminated at this specific moment. Regardless, these days are only temporary. You’ve promised yourself that one day, you’ll be able to smile from the bottom of your heart. 

It’s just that it was easier said than done when you weren’t homeless. Your father has never been the most reliable of men. You had to take over the household finances by the time you were eight, so you’ve always been accustomed to his lack of responsibility, but today really solidified his status in your mind as an absolutely useless, no good man. It’s unfathomable cruelty to have left his only daughter with no money, no relatives, and no home. 

You don’t want to call it cruel. For all of his faults, you still love your father. And it’s because you love him that you know this wasn’t a cruel act. Cruelty is intentional. It’s malicious. It comes from a desire to hurt. Your father has never wanted to hurt you. It’s just a byproduct of his gambling addiction. You’re collateral damage in his quest for the jackpot that would solve all his problems. 

You double over in agony at the renewed complaints from your stomach. At least you’ve gone from scaring mere squirrels to scaring passersby. That’s an upgrade, right? 

One woman clutches her purse closer as she walks past you as briskly as possible. You get it, you look bad. 

But there’s no use being resentful. Your father has been barely one step above a deadbeat all your life. At the very least, you’re used to fending for yourself. Your stomach growls again, but you’re determined to ignore it. You need a plan of action. One step after another, you’ll make it out of these troublesome times. 

Before you can start to plot, a loud cry for help catches your attention. It sounds like someone else is in even more dire straits than you are, which is saying a lot. 

The squirrels have long since scattered, run off not by the scary noises coming from your famished stomach, but a pack of dogs. Somehow, a man has climbed several feet into the tree next to the trash can, and now perched precariously in its branches. Below him, curious dogs tilt their heads and give cautious barks. 

“Aw, hello there, cuties,” you coo, rubbing behind their ears. They yip at you enthusiastically. One sets to chasing his own tail around the tree. They seem friendly enough, but you suppose one can’t help their phobias. A little regretfully, you chase them off. 

“Go on now,” you tell the last one, leading him away. He whines, but does as you say. What a good boy. 

“Thank you,” says the stranger stranded in the tree. He slides down the trunk, face slowly regaining color. “I owe you my life.” 

“It was nothing!” You smile, but he won’t let you brush off your good deed. 

“You’re a good kid,” he nods approvingly. “Gotta reward that. Is there anything you want?” 

A home. 

Not just the house you shared with your father, but somewhere warm to return to. A person who waits to see you safely inside the threshold. 

But you know a stranger can’t give you that, so you shake your head and smile. “Really, it was nothing. You don’t owe me anything.” 

As if he had heard your inner monologue, the stranger raises an eyebrow. “A home, hm? I might be able to help with that.” 

Before you can react, he leans in and kisses your forehead. Where his lips touched your skin feels faintly warm and tingly, almost like the sensation of your leg going numb, before you recoil from him in shock. 

He presses a map into your hand and tells you, “Go to this address. Tell them Yaga sent you, and you’ll be welcomed with open arms.” 

With that, he runs off. 

What a strange man. 

Well, you’ve had a strange life, taking care of your hopeless father and all. Perhaps these things really did happen. It wasn’t so impossible for strangers to appear out of nowhere and reward you for good deeds. Maybe all the fairytales your father had read to you back when he hadn’t been so terrible were true. 

Or maybe that was the wishful thinking of an optimistically delusional girl who needed somewhere to stay desperately.

The address is located on the outskirts of town. Pushing deeper into foliage and closer to forest than civilization, you find the location you had been sent to. 

It’s a shrine. 

A run-down shrine, of all places. 

Are you on a comedy show? Should you start checking for cameras? 

Against your will, you feel your eyes grow hot. That was a cruel trick to play. He had gotten your hopes up for nothing. 

It’s not just your eyes. Your entire body starts to feel warm. The world around you erupts into blue flame. Heat licks at your shins as you scramble towards safety, closer to the center of the circle that has formed around you. 

When the flames suddenly leap, as if they’ll consume the entire sky, you scream and drop to your knees, covering your head like it’s a bomb threat. Two childish voices ring in your head, as clear and crisp as bells. 

Welcome home, Yaga-sama. 

It’s a shrine. There’s only one logical conclusion. 

This is a haunting. 

There’s only one safe path out of the ring of fire, and it’s towards the building you’ve now concluded is the site of paranormal activity. Between being actively burned alive or facing spirits though, you know which one you’ll choose. 

Your frantic fingers fumble over the latch on the shrine’s red doors as the fire inches closer and closer until you can feel its heat on your back. Finally, you throw open the doors and all but launch yourself inside. The heat recedes, but the voices do not. 

“Back already, Yaga?” A male voice drawls. “I thought your pilgrimage would’ve taken longer. After leaving me to maintain the shrine by myself for sixty years -“

You shriek as an enormous, clawed hand comes down towards your face. Your eyes squeeze shut, waiting for the end. 

“I’m not Yaga,” you wail, hoping it will save you. 

“You have a lot of nerve?” The voice finishes, more uncertainly than before. When you deem it safe to open your eyes once more, what stands before is a young man dressed in all white. White hair and blue eyes make for a staring constraint, but his coloring isn’t what’s strange about him. 

It’s his clawed hands and the equally white fox tail behind him. 

“Megumi, Tsumiki,” he says authoritatively. “This isn’t Yaga.” 

A shining ball of fire comes forward, speaking in the little girl’s voice you heard earlier. “That can’t be right! Look, she has the mark of the god on her forehead.” 

You touch your forehead, remembering the warm tingly sensation you had felt when that man kissed you. Feeling slightly delirious, you start to laugh, only to grow alarmed when you find you can’t stop. You’re growing out of breath from your near hysterical laughing, tears streaming out of the corners of your eyes. 

“Oh, great,” says the fox spirit. “She’s crazy.” 

“She’s the one with the mark,” the other ball of fire, Megumi, says. “That means she’s the god whether you like it or not, Gojo.” 

Tsumiki darts over to you, but halfway through her journey, she goes from fire to a little child just under 2 feet tall. She’s wearing a mask and plain blue yukata. 

“We have to celebrate!” She claps her hands together in excitement. “Our god has finally returned!”

Gojo looks dismissively down on you. Your laughing fit is finally starting to die down, but he doesn’t seem impressed regardless. “What god? I won’t accept a little human girl as my master. She couldn’t handle the strength of a familiar like me.”  

His condescension only makes you giggle harder. You can’t help it. Something about the fluffy fox ears protruding out of his head makes it hard to take him seriously. 

“What strength?” You laugh in his face. “This shrine is so dilapidated, I doubt you’re anything special.” 

Gojo looks away. “If she stays, I’m leaving. I won’t serve this kind of pathetic god.”

He disappears in a cloud of white smoke before Tsumiki can finish saying, “Don’t be like that!”

The will-o-wisp children introduce themselves to you as shrine spirits who look after the building. It takes a while, but by the time they kindly show you to the room where you’ll be staying, you can distinguish Tsumiki from Megumi by the differences in the masks they never take off. 

Your room is simple and threadbare. The walls are paneled bamboo and the only furnishing is an old futon. Still, you’re grateful. It’s leagues better than sleeping in the woods, which is what you started this day fearing you would have to resort to. You’ve never been the type to complain, and you won’t start now, no matter how strange your life has gotten. 

Fox spirits and will-o-wisp children don’t exist. They’re the stuff of myths. Maybe you’re just seeing things because you’re tired, you muse as you drift off to sleep. You’ll feel better in the morning after a nice, long rest. The events of today will feel so far away, and you’ll be able to start over. 

Or maybe you’re dead already, and you’re wandering in the Netherworld. Perhaps the reason you can see spirits is because you’re currently residing in their land. Your entire body seizes up as you jolt yourself back to wakefulness. 

“Kamisama,” Tsumiki has crept back into your room. “Are you alright?” 

You tell her to call you by her name. Calling you god just doesn’t feel right. 

Gently, she nestles down by your pillow and puts her cold little hands on your forehead. Rather than shocking to your senses, it feels pleasant. When you were a little girl and got sick, your father used to let you stay home from school. He’d pack a towel with ice cubes and place it on your overheated forehead, staying up with you all night just to chat. It’s a good memory. 

“It’ll be alright,” Tsumiki tells you in her gentle voice. “You’ll see.” 

For spirits that supposedly take care of the shrine, you have a suspicion that Tsumiki and Megumi are pushing their work onto you when they brief you on your chores the next morning. It turns out godhood is a lot less summoning storms and a lot more doing yard work. 

Tsumiki insists that keeping the shrine pure is important for keeping evil spirits away. For some reason, that means cleaning. When you ask about calling lightning or summoning lions, Megumi laughs at you. 

“That’s Getou-sama’s job,” he says. “Your specialty is marriage. Yaga was very good at tying peoples’ fates together. You will be, too.”

He has more faith than you do in that regard. When it comes to chores, however, you’re more certain of your abilities. Busy work keeps the absurdity of your situation from sinking in, and you’re good at running the household from years of dealing with your father. You’re grateful for something to do. If you think about the past day too hard, you might break down into shocked laughter and never get back up. 

Besides, even if you don’t feel particularly ready to be a god, Tsumiki and Megumi are letting you stay in the shrine. You have to earn your keep. Soon, you settle into the process of cleaning, letting the methodical, rhythmic nature of your movements erase any doubts in your mind. You think of nothing but the cooling sensation of the water when you dip your rag into the bucket and the clean, woody scent of the shrine as you scrub the wood. 

“Ooh,” Tsumiki says approvingly when she appears. “It looks better already! Can you do the lawn next?” 

Plucking weeds is notably less soothing than cleaning. With no gloves, you’re careful to avoid hurting yourself as you tug on spiky vines and knotted twigs, but it’s no use. Eventually, you lose focus and a sharp sting graces your finger. Blood drips down your hand. You hiss in pain. 

A hand with white claws instead of nails grabs your wrist. You yelp in shock as Gojo brings your finger to his mouth and laps at the blood. It stains his lips slightly red. He worries at the cut with his tongue, making your wound ache. You try to pull back, but he holds on. 

To your amazement, the cut closes before your eyes. You’re just about to thank him when he ruins the moment. 

“You really are useless,” he says. “You can’t even pluck grass?”

You yank your hand out of his grip as hard as you can, sending yourself tumbling back against the grass. You hate how it must make yourself seem even more human in his eyes, a weak, fragile thing. 

“Give up,” he says, and it’s almost gentle, the way his claws graze your chin as he holds your face in one hand. “You’re not suited to be a god.” 

You turn away, unwilling to let him see any more of your vulnerability. “You don’t know anything about me.” 

“Suit yourself,” he says with a noise of annoyance. “Brats who run away from home aren’t my problem.” 

“I didn’t run away!” You snap, whirling on him. “My dad was the one who ran! I don’t have anywhere else to go!” 

But he’s gone.

At least Megumi and Tsumiki are nice to you. Megumi takes the bucket of weeds you deposit at the front door and whisks it somewhere out of your sight, while Tsumiki prepares a nice, hot bath for you. Exhausted, you collapse onto the bamboo floor spread eagle. 

God, a voice murmurs in your head.

Not again. You don’t want any more spirits to deal with. When you raise your head, instead of another yokai, there’s an old woman standing in front of the shrine. Her head is bowed and her hands are clasped in prayer. 

Please bless my daughter’s marriage so that she will enjoy a long and fruitful life with her partner. 

Her voice is coming from some place inside your head. It resonates like a bell, ringing crisp and clear. You stretch out your hands wonderingly. You don’t look any different. 

“You see?” Tsumiki says approvingly. “You’re a god.”’ 

But you don’t feel like one. You feel just like a normal person. 

“A god needs a familiar.” You can’t see Megumi’s face behind his mask as he speaks, but you can imagine the solemn little boy he must be. “You need to bind Gojo to you.”

“How do I do that?” 

“You have to kiss him.” 

You wait for them to tell you they’re joking. 

“What? I can’t kiss him! Is there-” 

Megumi cuts in. “It’s just the traditional way to seal the contract. Don’t think too much of it.” 

The fact that neither of them are bothered makes you feel like the ridiculous one for being off put by this, but you’re sure you’re not. Still, if you’re a god now, you have to put all of your mortal sensibilities aside. It’s like another culture, you tell yourself. Like how Europeans kiss each other on the cheek to say hello. Even if you can’t convince yourself, Megumi and Tsumiki are insistent. 

You were so fired up just a second ago, but now your head is filled with doubts. If such a simple matter can sway you, are you really meant to be a god after all? Maybe Gojo is right. Maybe you should just leave. 

“Please,” Tsumiki says. She looks distraught. “Don’t abandon us. Please don’t leave.” 

Megumi doesn’t say anything, but his silence is enough. 

“Okay,” you say, feeling defeated. “I’ll give it a shot.” 

You’ve always been good at chores. If taming Gojo is just another part of your new job, it sounds like it's time to get serious. 

“Take me to him.” 

Megumi and Tsumiki balk. 

“Right now?”

“Why not? The sooner I get it over with, the better, right?”

“He’s...indisposed at the moment,” Tsumiki says carefully. 

“Indisposed? Is he sick?” 

“Not quite,” Megumi says. He’s very expressive for a spirit. You can practically imagine him grimacing. 

“Then it’s fine!” 

You would soon come to regret your words. 

Megumi and Tsumiki lead you out of the shrine. They show you where to find the path that can lead you to the land of spirits and demons. Your entire body rebels at the feeling of being in this other world, but at the same time, you feel at home here. The god and the girl that coexist inside of you are mutually repelled by and attracted to this place. 

Even though you know Megumi and Tsumiki aren’t really children, or at least children in the way mortals think of them, you’re still concerned about letting them traipse around this dangerous place. However, they seem more used to this world than you are. That energy is better devoted to fending for yourself. 

They lead you under bridges where the running water smells like flowers and women’s voices hiss in the babble of the current. Tree leaves rustle with hands that disappear into darkness. You follow them through dark alleyways lined with red paper blessings, and doorsteps encircled with salt. Eyes follow you, leaving your skin crawling. 

You’re so focused on keeping your head down and staying out of danger that you almost don’t notice when they stop. You nearly run Megumi over. 

“He’s inside here,” Tsumiki says. 

Is it just you, or does she seem nervous? 

The lanterns inside this establishment are turned down to a dimness that barely illuminates the corridors. Sweet smelling smoke writhes around your feet from some unknown source as you head deeper and deeper into the maze of hallways, following the pair of shrine spirits. You pass women wearing fox masks, dressed in luxurious kimonos. Their hair towers over their head in elaborate updos, held in place with beautiful pins inlaid with chartreuse and gold. 

Megumi stops before a folding screen door. Like all things within this building, it’s beautiful. The silk screen is painted with images of flowers and more gruesome scenes as well, but somehow, it’s still breath-taking. A little like Gojo, in that regard. 

You hear the voices of women behind the screen, flattering Gojo. The light of a single candle illuminates the dim room, imprinting his silhouette against it, as well as that of the two women with him. They’re draped over him, hands roaming his body as they purr their compliments. Your face burns with embarrassment. 

“What are you doing?” Megumi demands of Gojo. “How can you parade around the red-light district like this? You’re the familiar of a god, not some common demon! If Yaga knew, it’d break his poor heart.” 

Behind the screen, Gojo merely brushes him off. “Yaga’s been replaced by some little human worm. Why should I care what he thinks now?”

“What about the shrine? Don’t you care about that, at least?” Tsumiki's voice is thick with reproach. 

“Now that you mention it, I don’t think I do,” he says. “Ha! You know what? Maybe I should thank that girl. Now that I’m free, I can do whatever I want.” 

“Gojo-“ 

“I’ll can indulge in every little vice Yaga never allowed me to touch before. Who would want to be a familiar when I can have all of this?” 

“Gojo, our god is here.” 

“What?” 

He leaps up and pushes the screen aside, coming face to face with you. He looks startled to see you, though you don’t see why he should care, since he so desires to lead a life of sin. 

You look upon him with disgust. You might want a familiar, but you’re not so desperate you’d stoop as low as this. Gojo cares so little for anyone but himself. If you’re going to be a god, you’re going to do it right. You’ll pick a good familiar, one who will genuinely love the shrine as much as it deserves. 

You turn and leave as he, half-clothed, frantically starts pulling on the outer layers of his kimono. 

“Wait,” he calls after you. “Tsumiki! Megumi! Why would you bring her here?”

“She wanted to see you,” Megumi retorts. 

“This isn’t the place for a human,” he says. “She’s going to get eaten!” 

The faster Gojo follows you, the faster you run from him. By the time you’re out of what you’ve come to realize is a brothel, you’re sprinting. Your legs carry you right into someone else as your face slams against a broad, muscled chest. 

“Oh,” says a voice above your head. “How pretty.” 

A hand caresses your face. This spirit has tattoo marks across his face and body. More interestingly, he has multiple arms. 

You’re frozen in place by fear as he brings his mouth closer and closer to your face. He’s close enough to kiss, but this is a spirit, which means he’s more likely to eat you. 

“Be good for me now,” he purrs in your ear. “Fear makes flesh all the sweeter.” 

Three of his six arms are consumed by fire. He pushes you away from him in favor of batting out the flame. 

Gojo pulls you towards him, hiding you in the folds of his billowing kimono. You press your face against his shoulder, swallowing back the tears of fear from nearly being eaten. Somehow, he feels safe, even though he’s been nothing but antagonistic towards you. He feels almost protective as he shields your body with his, securing you under one arm. 

“Scram,” he tells the other demon. “She’s mine, Sukuna.” 

Sukuna rolls his pairs of eyes. “You weren’t with her when I caught her. She’s fair game.” 

Fox fire flickers in Gojo’s hand. His white talons seem to elongate before your eyes. 

“If you want to fight over her, then by all means,” he says with a dangerous smile. “But we both know I’d win.” 

“Maybe later then,” Sukuna says, lazily as if Gojo isn’t threatening him. “Once I’ve eaten my fill.” 

He stalks off into the night in search of more prey. 

“This is why I told you to wait,” Gojo says, running his hand over his face. “You’re practically bait in this world. Come on, I’ll take you home.” 

You nod, not trusting your voice, but he catches on anyways. 

“Don’t cry,” he says, his face twisted in a grimace. “I won’t know what to do if you cry. Look, this is just your life now, okay? You’ll have to get used to it.” 

On impulse, you press your face into his shoulder again, still sniffling. You want to be comforted, even though you know he won’t give it to you. 

“Ugh,” he says, true to form. “Quit that.” 

By the time you’ve calmed down, Gojo has already escorted you back to the shrine. 

“Don’t come back,” he tells you. 

Of course, you can’t listen to him. On your second night in the land of the dead and monsters, not only do you have to hide from beasts who would devour you the moment they found out what you were, you also have to hide from Gojo. You’re wearing a disguise, courtesy of Tsumiki and Megumi. 

In your defense, it’s not like you want to be here. You need a familiar, and it’s clearly not going to be Gojo. 

According to Tsumiki, Gojo’s the strongest, but there are other familiars who would be willing to serve you. They’re all in the Netherworld, however, and you have to find them before you can contract them. 

You pull the curtain of the hat shielding your face a little closer around you as you peer at the faces surrounding you, trying to gauge who looks friendly. None of them do. You’ve been wandering around for hours, but not a single spirit has stood out to you. 

In the end, you don’t find him. He finds you. 

“A human god?” A hand grasps your wrist loosely. “That’s rare. Don’t you know it’s dangerous to be here?” 

The man in front of you looks normal by any standards - but you know better than to trust your gut in the netherworld. Still, he’s the closest thing to a human you’ve seen in a while. Surrounded by a maelstrom of monsters, he feels like the eye of the storm. There’s a quiet and a calm surrounding him, even as you walk among noderabo with withered, leathery skin and scaly yajo. 

It’s not like he’s in his own little pocket of the world, you realize. He is. Everyone is purposefully giving him a wide berth. 

“Who are you?”  

“I asked first,” he says. 

“You know who I am! You just said so - I’m the human god.” 

His eyes rake over you. “So you are. But what are you doing here, girl?” 

You throw his words back in his face obstinately. “You first.”

“I’m Toji.” That doesn’t tell you anything, but he’s clearly unwilling to divulge more. “Your turn.”

“I’m looking for a familiar.” 

“What about your familiar? I heard that Gojo-sama isn’t keen on sharing.” 

Somehow, the way he says Gojo-sama sounds derisive, even with the respectful honorific. 

“He doesn’t want to be my familiar.” 

The rejection stings coming out of your own mouth. 

“Sounds like him. Haughty bastard, he couldn’t stand to serve a human girl, could he?” 

“Yeah! He’s an asshole,” you say, feeling validated. 

When Toji laughs, the scar over his lip tugs one side of his mouth down. You kind of like it. And he must be strong, just looking at him. He’s well muscled and covered in scars. Of course, there’s the little matter of the reverence everyone around you is offering him. Tsumiki and Megumi had told you to just go out and find one. Could it be that easy?

“Are you interested?” 

He gives you a look of barely concealed amusement. “You’re funny, girl. I don’t think Gojo would like that very much, though.” 

“I don’t care what Gojo thinks.” 

“Oh, here he comes now. Don’t go running too far - you’ll worry him,” he says, slow and easy. His confidence is absurd - it reminds you of Gojo, actually. He must be strong. “If you’re really serious about wanting me as a familiar, why don’t you meet me here again in three days?”

“What are you doing?” Gojo snarls at you. His teeth match the rest of his fox physique. With wonder, you realize that his pearly canines are pointed beyond what’s normal. “I told you not to come back!” 

“But- He-” You turn around to point Toji out, but he’s gone. 

“Who?” Gojo says. 

“He was right there!” 

“You’re so annoying,” Gojo bites out. “I don’t care what happens to you, but if you die, Megumi and Tsumiki will cry, so stop wandering off on your own. You’re lucky you didn’t get devoured on the spot.” 

He’s starting to get really irritating. You shove his hands off. 

“You know it’s actually your fault I’m here, right? If you didn’t reject me, I wouldn’t have to scour the Netherworld for a familiar.” 

Gojo scoffs. “My fault? Maybe you should take a look at yourself. If you were less weak, I wouldn’t have a problem serving you!” 

“That’s- You’re impossible!” You splutter. “I can’t help being weak! I was born this way! Not everyone is so lucky to be born a kitsune, oh-so-great-Gojo-sama.” 

“Enough,” he sighs. Taking you by your wrist, he forcibly drags you through the streets back in the direction you came. 

“Ow! You’re hurting me!” 

“Gojo!” Megumi’s reproving voice breaks the argument up before it can begin again. 

He lets go of you almost guiltily, if you thought he could feel guilt. 

“I’ll take her home,” Megumi says. 

Gojo’s tail lashes behind him angrily, but Megumi doesn’t spare him a second glance as he ushers you away. 

“Thank you,” you tell him in relief. “What are you doing here?” 

“You were taking a long time,” he says. “Tsumiki and I were getting worried. Did you find anyone?” 

You think of Toji. “No,” you say. “No one.” 

The next day, while Megumi and Tsumiki dress you for your trip through the Netherworld again, Megumi presses three slips of white paper into your hands. 

“We should’ve taught you this sooner,” he says. “One of the powers of a god is to transform objects. Whatever you write on this charm will become true - within the scope of your power. Be safe.”  

Armed with your paper slips, you feel like a real god. Tsumiki pushes you out the door with a prayer for good luck, though you’re not sure you can grant prayers to yourself for yourself.

Outside the door, something whines by your feet.

“Gojo?” 

Or is that a regular white fox? 

It snaps its teeth at you. 

Definitely Gojo.

“I don’t need an escort,” you tell him, making shooing motions at him with your hands. “Go away!” 

He rolls over and yips at you, his tail wagging. 

“I can’t understand you like this!” 

“I said,” a cloud of smoke reveals him, mostly humanoid once again, except for his ears and tail. “I don’t want to do this either. It’s for Megumi and Tsumiki.” 

Toji doesn’t seem to like him, so you don’t want to risk bringing him with you. Despite your best attempts to shake him, Gojo follows you as you retrace your steps back into the spirit world. You’re just starting to despair when you spot a bigger reason to be upset. 

“Hello, delicious,” Sukuna says. “Ready for round two?” 

Why does he look even more terrifying? Did he get bigger? 

“Leave her alone,” Gojo says, almost bored. “It’s pathetic. You can only bully things weaker than you, huh?” 

“I’m not afraid to fight you,” Sukuna tells him. 

You’re panicking. They both look serious. You don’t want to be caught between these two forces of nature. 

“You should be,” Gojo says, and steps in front of you. Over his shoulder, he tells you, “Run. You’re in my way.” 

This is the chance you were waiting for. 

Toji’s dressed differently when you find him again. Last night, he was wearing a casual black kimono. Tonight, he’s dressed in a tight fitting black shirt and loose white pants. 

“You look nice,” you tell him, feeling anxious. Your mind keeps going back to Gojo. You’re sure he can hold his own, but you’re still worried for him. As you are, however, you’re of no help to him. The only way you’d be able to rescue him if he actually was in danger is by making a contract with a powerful familiar. 

“It’s for work,” he says. “Follow me.” 

“We can’t do it here?” 

“Do you want to kiss me in front of everyone?” He shrugs and reaches for you. “I mean, I’m down if you are, but I figured-” 

“No,” you squeak and dart away. “Privacy is good!” 

He laughs. “You’re as funny as ever, huh? C’mere.” 

Toji leads you off the beaten path and further into the woods. The only thing that keeps you from feeling more nervous is the moon shining overhead, illuminating your path. It feels almost like a friend is with you.

“Here is good,” Toji says, stopping at a clearing. 

“It’s so pretty,” you breathe out, dazzled. This deep into the woods, fireflies are lighting your way. Beneath your feet, a springy bed of flowers and moss covers the floor. 

“What can I say? I’m a romantic.” 

“Yeah, right,” you laugh at him, but you draw closer. You think you could trust him. You think you could be partners with him. 

Then Toji grabs you by the shoulders and dangles you off the edge of the clearing, over a steep drop you hadn’t noticed. The sharp cut off had been hidden by flowers, danger painted over with beauty. 

“Sorry, kid,” Toji says. “No hard feelings, right?” 

“Why?” You whisper. Gojo had been right. 

“There’s a bounty on your head,” he says. “Getou has offered to grant the wish of anyone who kills you.”

His eyes turn wistful. “I have a kid. Haven’t seen him in years. You understand, right? It’s not personal.” 

The fall is brutal. The wind whips tears into your eyes, if you weren’t already crying from the fear of falling to your death. You have to do something, anything. Above your head, something white flutters. 

A dove? 

Then another. 

It’s one of the paper ofuda Megumi had given you before you left, caught in the updraft of you rushing down to earth. You snatch it out of the air. You can’t reach the pen in your pocket. With increasing desperation, you bite down on your finger hard enough to draw blood and trace the characters for a tree branch onto it. Holding it aloft, you pray. 

Between your hands, wood solidifies. You’re clinging to a scrap of a twig sprouting from the rocky cliffside. Megumi’s words echo in your head - only within the scope of your power. 

So this is it, huh?

That’s all there is of your godly strength. 

“Looks like you’re in trouble,” Gojo says. He has no problem balancing on the sheer cliff. His appearance is impeccable, completely unscathed from his fight with Sukuna. He perches like a bird, as comfortable as if he were standing on solid ground. “Do you need help?”

Thank god. He’s here to save you! You nod, turning teary eyes on him. You were wrong about him. Gojo really is a good guy, deep down. 

“If you say, ‘Please save me, Gojo-sama, I was stupid.’ I’ll help you. Throw in some crying and begging, too.” 

Your eyes dry up instantly. He’s a total bastard. You clutch onto the branch tighter. There’s no way you’ll give him the satisfaction of groveling for help. 

Your resolve weakens when you hear the first snap. 

“Time’s ticking,” Gojo calls in a sing-song voice. “What will it be?” 

The harder you hold on, the more your flimsy branch breaks. 

“Come on,” Gojo says. “It’s not that hard. It’s just seven little words. Isn’t that worth your life?”

“Go fuck yourself,” you tell him, and the branch finally snaps. 

Falling for the second time is just as bad as the first time. The icy wind snatches at you like claws, tearing at your clothes. 

To your surprise, Gojo leaps after you. He makes free-fall look elegant - surely a far cry from whatever you’re doing. 

“Just say it,” he yells, within arm’s reach. He’s so close he could snag you by the shirt and haul you to safety, but you know he won’t. Not without getting what he wants. “Would you rather die than just apologize?” 

You have an answer prepared. 

His eyes widen in shock when you press your palms to his cheek, pull him closer, and kiss him. 

You barely have time to register the taste of him, sake and something sweet, before the reality of falling to your death rushes in again. 

“Gojo, save me!” 

As if his body is piloted by someone else, Gojo catches you. For him, it’s a short leap back up to the top of the clearing, where Toji has disappeared. 

You climb down from his hold once you’re certain you’re safe. You never thought you’d miss the feeling of solid ground beneath your feet this much, but at the moment, you’re willing to kiss the earth. 

Gojo seems much worse off. He’s frozen in shock, muttering the same refrain to himself under his breath. “Me? Bound to her? Impossible.” 

“Let’s go home,” you tell him. He doesn’t seem to get it until you tug him towards the path, and then he leads the way wordlessly. . 

You wake to Megumi and Tsumiki weeping over you. 

“I’m alright!”

They freeze, then burst into fresh tears. 

“We thought you would never wake up! Your first time using ofuda must have been too much for you,” Megumi gets out through his sobs. 

You feel sore all over. You can barely recall the events of the previous night, only that you kissed- 

“Finally up?” 

Gojo’s tapping his foot as he waits for you to get up. He looks furious. There’s an unmistakeable tick in his jaw that spells trouble for you. 

It’s too early to deal with him. You duck back under the covers. 

“Oh no you don’t,” he growls out as he seizes your wrist and bodily hauls you out of your warm cocoon of blankets. “You wanted to be a god, you’re going to be a god. It’s time for some training.” 

You shiver pathetically in the cold morning air. If you had known helping a stranger would lead to be harassed by a fox spirit, you would’ve never done it in the first place. 

“Try harder,” Gojo says at your sixth failed attempt to turn water into wine. 

“It smells alcoholic,” Megumi offers loyally. 

“I am trying!” You insist. 

“Harder,” Gojo snarls. 

The seventh attempt doesn’t change. Gojo throws up his arms and stalks out of the shrine, declaring the need to cool his head. Tsumiki frantically trails him, not trusting him to not attempt to run away again. 

Megumi tries to assure you that you’re doing well, but honestly, you need to leave too. The shrine feels too stuffy. A change of scenery will do you good. Sitting alone in the woods just behind the shrine, you try to focus. Slowly, stacks of ofuda disappear from your hands as you paste them to trees, willing them to blossom. Wilt. Do anything, anything at all. 

You’re out cold when Gojo finds you. 

“Divine power takes time,” he says as he prepares dinner. “Use too many talismans at once and you’ll pass out.” 

You drink a spoonful of soup morosely. “How do I get stronger?” 

“You’ll get stronger if you grant prayers.” 

Tsumiki perks up. “One just came in!” 

“I already looked at it,” Gojo says dismissively. “Not that one.” 

“Everyone’s wishes deserve to be looked at,” you argue. 

Gojo scoffs, “Not this one.” 

“Don’t be rude! A god can’t pick and choose.” 

He tosses the prayer at you. 

Morimoto Rika’s request touches your heart. She’s the spirit of a nearby lake - not just any spirit, as Megumi helpfully clarifies, but another owner of a shrine. A human boy visits her waters nightly. By the light of the moonlight, she fell in love with him, but she can’t meet him because they live in two separate worlds. 

And to think that you would’ve never known to help her if Gojo had continued keeping this from you. 

“This sounds like the perfect job for me,” you argue. 

“Don’t be ridiculous. Yokai can’t fall in love with humans.” 

You narrow your eyes at him. “Aren’t you bound to do as I say? Take me to her.” 

Against his will, Gojo summons what’s called a ‘night fog coach’. Only operable at night, as the name suggests, it’s a tall black carriage truly made for a god. You’re just wondering how Gojo expects you to climb aboard when he effortlessly lifts you by the waist. 

“You’re the one who wanted to go meet her,” he sneers. “Chop-chop.” 

Your supplicant looks like a fish if it were a girl. She has pale green skin and large, black eyes, with overly large teeth for her mouth. Black hair frames a heart shaped face. She’s cute, in her own monstrous way. And she’s desperately in love with a human boy. 

Gojo helps you transform her into a human body and make her over into a normal teenage girl. For a prayer granted, it feels like nothing more than dressing your friend up for a date. 

You’re even as nosy as you would be in that situation. It’s the first prayer you’ve ever granted. You know you shouldn’t, but you and Gojo watch the burgeoning romance from a distance. Of course, he’s completely disapproving, but you have high hopes for them - until Rika pulls out a ring. 

Aren’t they moving a little too fast? 

It only gets worse when Rika confesses that she’s been stalking him - sort of. Keeping tabs on him for his safety by following him around town is a little too close to the other, for your liking. Your head drops into your hands. 

But Yuta takes it surprisingly well. A little too well, in fact. It only seems to infatuate him even more. You knew there were certain types of men out there who loved crazy, but you had never seen it in real life - until now. 

Could this even be counted as a success? 

You’re happy for Rika and Yuta, as happy as you can be for their twisted little union, but you’re just waiting for Gojo to bite your head off for bringing a (real) monster and a human together as soon as you get back home. At least they’re happy, you think ruefully. Worse things could happen. Your first union as a marriage god didn’t fail. In fact, of all people, Yuta seemed the most likely in the world to accept Rika as she was, human or not. 

To your surprise, returning to the shrine, Gojo begrudgingly says, “You did well.” 

Any warm feelings you have for him the next day are replaced when he barges into your room and demands you strip. 

“You have guests,” he says. “Messengers from Toji-sama, the god of the wind.” 

Your eyes grow wide. You hadn’t known Toji was a god. Come to think of it, did Gojo even know the reason why you had been falling from that cliff? You weren’t sure if he had come in time to see who had pushed you. 

“What are you worried about? I’ll be at your side the whole time.” 

You’ll tell him later. Right now, you have a serious matter to prepare for. 

You tried not to discriminate on the basis of his master, but it’s not that at all. Toji’s familiar, Naoya, is simply annoying on his own terms. 

“So you’re the new god of this ramshackle little shrine,” he sniffs. “God, it’s disgusting. How poor are you?” 

“You must be the thirteenth familiar Toji’s owned. He goes through you like toys, doesn’t he? Of course you wouldn’t know that he used to live in worse conditions before. Deplorable.” Gojo laughs in his face. 

Naoya grits his teeth. “I’m surprised your little human dared to show her face. I thought she’d be terrified after what Toji did to her. They’re such weak little things.” 

Gojo looks at the other demon with a calm that worries you. As human as he is, there are moments when you can catch the monster lurking within. He’s like the sea, deceptively calm until you remember the threat of an unseen riptide. 

“If you insult my master again,” he says carefully, enunciating every word like he’s stabbing at them with a knife, “I will take your head and deliver it to your master as a present.” 

“Don’t tell me you’re happy to be serving a mortal girl,” Naoya laughs. “Not someone like you, Satoru. How the mighty have fallen.” 

Gojo looks at him for a long moment, then he ignores him completely and walks to your side. The most painful part of Naoya’s digs at you is knowing he’s right. Gojo doesn’t like this. How could he? He went from being the strongest to being commanded by some powerless girl. Still, Gojo gazes at you with his inscrutable eyes. You can’t read him at all. 

Slowly, he sinks to his knees next to you. 

With a gentleness you can hardly bear, he lays his head in your lap, as gentle and docile as a puppy. His neck is bared as if for an executioner’s axe, the delicate pulse of his heart open to you. He closes his eyes. His breath is shallow. He stays there, and says no more. 

“Oh, Satoru,” Naoya says in delight. “You really have become a tamed thing.” 

With an uncertainty you’re trying to hide, you lift your hands to Gojo’s head. His hair is sinfully soft. You’re almost scared he’ll try to take your hands off for it, but when you start to gently pet his hair, he almost purrs. His eyes close, half-lidded in pleasure. 

“I serve who I want to serve,” Gojo says. His tail lashes behind him. “Who are you to tell me my master is unworthy?” 

Naoya shrugs, clearly disbelieving. “Sure, Satoru. Keep telling yourself that. I’m just here to deliver a gift.” 

He tosses you a package wrapped carefully in beautiful, ornate wrapping paper. You’re sure it’s not Toji’s doing. He’s not the type. 

As soon as he leaves, Gojo pushes himself away from you. It leaves you a little sorrowful, the speed with which he tries to get away. He only did it for your sake, you know. He wanted to protect your honor in front of Naoya because you’re his master. But it must have disgusted him, to get on his knees for a human, if he recoiled so fast. 

“What did he mean, what Toji did to you?” Gojo asks over dinner. 

You know instantly that you’ll only draw his ire if you try to play dumb. 

“Toji pushed me off that cliff the day you found me.” 

Gojo’s eyes darken. The next time Naoya returns, he promises you, he’d set his tail on fire. No one besmirches his master’s honor like that. 

It’s about honor, of course. You’d be a fool to think otherwise. 

Alone in your chambers, you unwrap the package Naoya gave you. It’s an incense burner, beautiful and silver. As apology presents go, it’s a decent one. You set it aside for use at a later time. 

Naoya’s visit only makes Gojo’s training worse, but these days, you’ve grown used to him and his harsh words. The more that he yells at you for being weak, the more you can brush it off as Gojo just being Gojo. That only irritates him more, of course. 

But nothing pisses him off as much as you claiming that you’re returning to school. Gojo thinks that you have no need for school as a god. There’s nothing the humans can teach you that he can’t. 

In your eyes, Gojo is a kitsune. That means he’ll never understand a teenage girl’s heart. School isn’t about learning, it’s about the experience! You’ll never be in high school again - there are so many things you still haven’t experienced, like school trips. You only have one youth - you have to seize it in the moment! 

Gojo isn’t convinced. 

Like an overbearing parent, he nags you all day and night until finally, you strike a deal. He’ll let you go to school, but only as long as you cover up the god-mark on your head. Gojo is never one to make things easy for you. The hat he bestows you with is an ugly grandma print with faux fox ears. You’ll be the laughingstock of the school!

“It’s dangerous,” he says. “Who knows what wild beasts will be lurking about?” 

“You’re the wild beast,” you say. “I can’t wear that!” 

“I guess you can’t go to school then,” he sighs. “What a pity.” 

It’s all for show, of course. You know what he’s really like. There’s no use in arguing - either you agree to his compromise or you stay here, stuck in the temple for the rest of your life. You’ll miss out on all the joys of youth, never growing old in your cloistered shrine. The thought is unbearable. 

You snatch the hat from him in indignation. Putting it on before you leave the next day makes you cringe, but as long as you avoid mirrors, you can almost forget that it’s there - if not for your classmates staring at you. You can feel their judging eyes everywhere you go, and the whispers. 

You can’t even say you don’t care - you do care. You only have one high school life, and Gojo is ruining it. During lunch, you escape into the bathroom to mope and avoid all of your classmates. 

“Are you getting bullied?” Gojo’s voice is too bright and cheery for your dark mood right now. You can’t promise to remain calm if he stays here. 

“This is the girl’s bathroom, Gojo.” 

“Don’t be like that. I’m just worried about my master,” he says. “Well? How is it? Do you want to go home now?” 

He’s lying. You know he’s not worried about you at all, but you should be used to it. You don’t know why it stings as much as it does. 

You’re hurt even though you know this is just how Gojo is. Of course he’d be happy to see you miserable - he hadn’t even wanted you for a god in the first place. He’s bound to you by obligation, and nothing more. You had known from the start that he didn’t care about you, so why does it hurt that he won’t comfort you? It’s just like those nights in the demon world that seem so long ago now. He hasn’t changed at all. 

Gojo isn’t as shocked by your outburst as he is by the tears slowly welling up in your eyes. He stands stunned as you rush out of him and back into the hallway. 

Tsumiki appears next to him out of thin air, completely unimpressed. 

“You did a terrible job on that one, Gojo.” 

As if in a daze, he lifts his hand, where the crystal of one teardrop shines. He’d tried to reach for you at the last moment, but you were already gone. “I made her cry...” 

Megumi appears next to Tsumiki, his face red. “What’s taking so long? Hurry up and leave! We’re in the girl’s bathroom!” 

“Gojo was bullying our master,” Tsumiki announces. 

“I wasn’t bullying her!” 

“He made her cry.” 

Gojo winces. “Okay, yeah. I did do that.”

Megumi kicks him in the leg, which amounts to almost nothing. “Take responsibility, then!” 

When you return home, Gojo is waiting by the shrine door with an almost offensively polite smile on his face. “Let me take your coat, master.” 

Him being kind gives you the creeps. You can’t help but feel like he’s planning something, especially when he shows you the lavish dinner he prepared for you with all of your favorites. 

“What’s with the look?” He says, annoyed at your accusing eyes peering at him over your bowl. “I do something nice for you and this is how you treat me?” 

“This is really just for me? No ulterior motives?” 

“None,” he promises. 

The smile that breaks over your face is like the sun through rain clouds - sudden, dramatic, and almost painfully bright after a period of gray skies. 

“Thanks, Gojo!” 

The look in his eyes is unreadable as he reaches to spoon more food onto your plate. 

You don’t have anyone else in this world. Besides the shrine spirits, Gojo might be the only person in the world who will take care of you. For some reason, the thought doesn’t sting as much as it did this morning. 

The second day of school starts with pouring rain, as if it’s a direct reaction to your foul mood earlier. Gojo pulls you back when you try to leave. 

“It’s a bad omen,” he says. “Stay home with me today. I’ll worry about you if you go.” 

Normally, such sweet words might bring a blush to your face, but you can read between the lines. 

Stay home with me today so I can keep you out of trouble, you brat. 

I’ll worry about you if you go because you’re weaker than a worm. 

“Stop trying to keep me from going to school! I thought we got over this yesterday,” you huff. “I’m going to be late for the bus!” 

You leave Gojo with a handful of air as you dart under his outstretched arm and out the door. 

In school, all your classmates are listless. 

You’ve never been so unhappy to not be the subject of attention. What is wrong with everyone? Even the teacher doesn’t reprimand anyone for sleeping in class, half-asleep herself. You’re the only one who doesn’t seem to be caught in this spell of drowsiness, which insinuates paranormal origins. 

As you’re sweeping the classroom after class, one of your classmates lets out a disgruntled noise. 

“It’s a snake,” she says, not at all with the intonation of someone who’s just discovered a snake. Ami’s the type to go apoplectic at the sight of a fly, much less an actual snake, so you don’t pay much mind until you hear Kurama go, “Huh, she wasn’t kidding.” 

There’s a little yellow snake in the classroom. In their stupor, none of your classmates seem to care all that much about it. They just continue going about their chores. You feel bad for it. It’s such a small, fragile little creature. In their state, they might accidentally end up crushing it. 

With gentle murmurs of encouragement, you coax it into your hand. It’s surprisingly docile and twines itself readily around your wrist before you set it outside the window to be set free. 

Gojo doesn’t praise you for your act of heroism on the behalf of his fellow yokai, as you remind him. You saved his compatriots! Where’s the gratitude? 

He calls you a stupid little girl. “I don’t care about them, I care about you!” 

Your face warms with embarrassment against your will even though you know he doesn’t mean it like that. Time and time again, Gojo has stressed that he will never see yokai and humans as even remotely on the same playing field, much less capable of being romantic partners. 

“You’re my master,” he says. There’s your call back to reality. “Look at this mark on your wrist.” 

It appears like a normal bruise to you, though you’re not sure how it could’ve happened. Your new snake friend was very gentle when he was coiled around your wrist. He must have been someone’s escaped pet. You hope he found his way back home. 

Gojo’s mad. He’s enunciating every word. 

“This is exactly why I have to keep such a close eye on you. That’s no ordinary bruise. That is an engagement mark. Care to explain to me how I left you alone for one second and you got yourself engaged to a divine beast?” 

Your face pales. “Excuse me?” 

“That snake is going to come and claim you as his bride.” 

“As a bride?” Your head spins and you have to sit down. You’re too young to get married. You look up at Gojo, teary-eyed. You don’t want this. 

“Stop making that face,” he snaps, pushing a hand over your face to hide it. “As if I would let that happen. The master of the Yaga shrine, my master, could never be wed to a mere snake.” 

If Gojo says he won’t let it happen, you can put your faith in him. You breathe a little easier. As mean as he can be, Megumi and Tsumiki weren’t lying when they called him the best familiar. He’s the strongest and most capable person or rather, yokai, that you know. There’s not a single task you set for him that he hasn’t been able to complete. 

It’s still raining when you go outside to practice your talisman making. 

You find the weather quite pleasant, even though it’s a little damp. The chill in the air cuts through the muggy feeling of summer, and the raindrops cool your cheeks. When you turn your face up to the sky, you can taste ozone in the little drops that pelt your face. 

“You’re very beautiful, kamisama,” says a voice. 

There's a man waiting just outside the red gates. A supplicant? In this weather? You better get him inside in a hurry. You dash over to him. 

“What are you doing? Come inside, you’ll get wet!” 

Just as you reach him, he lifts his face. He looks like a statue, with high cheekbones, and solemn eyes. His hair is the same pale yellow as the snake you saw earlier that day-

“Gojo!” 

But it’s too late. 

The snake has a hold on your wrist, right above the engagement mark. He takes you away. 

One moment, you’re standing in your own backyard, the next, you’re surrounded by almost-familiar bamboo walls. It looks like your shrine but for little distinguishing touches. That makes you uncomfortable. 

“This is Haibara shrine,” the snake says. “I’m Nanami, the familiar of Haibara-sama. I’ve taken you away to marry you.” 

There’s a curtain over the center of the room. Haibara presumably rests behind it, but something strikes you as off about the whole scenario. That’s not what’s foremost on your mind, however. 

“I don’t want to marry you! You kidnapped me!” 

He tilts his head at you. “I couldn’t have kidnapped you. We’re engaged, you see?” He traces the mark on your wrist with one slim finger. “We’re going to be very happy together.” 

“You’re being creepy,” you push him away. 

At your rejection, something dark crosses over his features - not danger, but pain. He has some nerve feeling upset when you’re the one who should be upset here! 

“That’s alright,” he says, trying to stroke your hair. You won’t let him touch you. “I know it can take some getting used to. Here, let me show you to your room.” 

Nanami has clearly put a lot of thought into decorating for you. It’s beautifully furnished, with rich silk sheets and the fragrant smell of plum blossoms permeating the air. Here, there’s not a single thing you could want but- 

Gojo. 

You miss Gojo and you miss your shrine. 

When Nanami leaves you in your room, it feels like a tomb in the silence. You bury your face in your expensive, hateful sheets and try to resist the urge to sob. You want Gojo to come get you. You want to go home. 

Hours pass, but Gojo doesn’t come. 

Nothing but the sound of your breathing changes, passing from frantic to deeper, slower, steadier. As your head clears, you notice the window. It’s a beautifully ornate design, a red knot of luck. The center is just big enough for a girl to squeeze through, if you try hard. 

Resolve grips you. 

You’re not going to wait for Gojo to rescue you. You’re going to get out of here yourself, find him, and scold him for not coming to get you earlier. Aren’t you his most beloved master, as he so professes? You’re going to make him kneel for at least three hours practicing his apologies! 

Filled with renewed conviction, you hoist yourself onto the window sill and begin the tedious task of shimmying yourself out. Just when you’re nearly there, the sharp edge of the metal scrapes your shin, leaving a long, thin cut. 

The smell of salt replaces the plums immediately. 

“God?” Comes Nanami’s voice. “I smell blood. Are you alright?” 

“I’m fine!” You panic. If he discovers your escape attempt now, he might try to put you in a more secure room, and then you’ll really never see Gojo again. 

The adjacent wall caves in. 

Gojo stands in the rubble, seething, each hand wreathed in blue flame. He doesn’t even notice you, his attention wholly focused on Nanami. “You drew her blood? Are you prepared to face the consequences of hurting my master, snake?” 

You grab his arm just before he attacks. “He didn’t! I hurt myself on the window- oof!” 

Gojo’s so much bigger than you are. When he folds you into his arms, his entire body surrounds you. His chin tucks itself over your head, his large arms wrap around your body. You’ve never felt more secure than you are here, now. “I thought you’d be crying.”

His voice is hoarse. 

You’ve never heard that before. 

“You came,” you whimper, burying your face into his shoulder.  

Nanami’s face is crestfallen. “Are you going to leave me?” 

You grab Gojo’s arm and duck into the other room, where Haibara’s curtain is. 

“Don’t!” Nanami cries. 

When you pull it back, there’s nothing but an old, dusty kimono. 

You were right. 

This place is godless. 

“You’re no familiar,” Gojo snarls, turning on Nanami. “Don’t even think to call yourself that. The difference between you and me is as clear as day, you vile beast. You’ll pay for your insolence with the loss of your shrine.” 

Nanami’s misery is written all over his face. You’ve realized what’s wrong with this shrine. It’s too quiet, as if no one has prayed here for generations. Haibara has been dead for a long, long time.

Nanami must have been lonely. 

“Don’t,” you tell Gojo.

He stares at you, incredulous. “Are you out of your mind?” 

You tug yourself out of Gojo’s arms. Nanami’s crouched on the ground, trying to shield Haibara’s old kimono from Gojo’s foxfire. You kneel to his level. 

“I’m sorry you’ve been lonely for all this time, Nanami. I can’t stay with you, but if you come to my shrine, we can play again.” 

Nanami weeps and reaches for your hand. The mark of the snake dissolves. 

Gojo doesn’t talk to you on the way back to the shrine.

“Don’t be mad,” you say, tugging on the sleeves of his kimono. He gives you a deadpan stare. “Come on! I only did it because-” 

You can’t finish your sentence. 

Of course, that piques Gojo’s interest. He can never resist bullying you. 

“Because? Go on,” he goads you. 

You say it so quietly he can’t hear you, even with his fox ears. He spins around, grabs you by the waist, and hoists you up so you’re face to face. You yelp and scramble to grab onto his shoulders for balance. 

“Louder,” he demands. “I can’t hear you.” 

“I was thinking about what would happen if I died and you were all alone again. I couldn’t leave him alone because I was thinking of you,” you tell him. Thinking of Gojo watching after an empty shrine all alone like Mizuki makes your heart ache for reasons you can’t explain. 

He stiffens. “What a strange thing to worry about. I wouldn’t care.” 

“Ugh,” you smack him in the shoulder. You shouldn't have tried to be kind to him. 

He doesn’t put you down, shifting you into an easier hold. “You’re hurt,” he admonishes when you try to squirm. 

Just before you enter the shrine gates, he has a confession of his own to make. “I’m sorry,” he says. “You got hurt because I wasn’t protecting you.” 

You rub his ears, an indulgence you’re not sure he would’ve allowed if he wasn’t in such a mood. “It’s not your fault!” 

“I’ve never had a human master,” he says. “I have to be careful not to break you. You’re so easily hurt.” 

“You don’t have to say it like that,” you say, and then the shrine spirits are there to welcome you home. 

You hadn’t realized you thought of the shrine as home until today. 

Even though Nanami’s mood isn’t affecting the weather anymore, it’s still raining. Gojo tells you not to mind the weather, even though you’re certain that it’s not from natural causes, which means it is your job. Ever since you came back from Haibara’s shrine, Gojo has been extra protective of you. 

You hadn’t thought Gojo had needed to be protected too, not until the thunder god came. 

The god of storms and lightning is called Getou Suguru. He carries a mallet in one hand that can transform whoever it touches into their younger forms, and he used to be Gojo’s best and only friend. He’s also the one who called a bounty on your head.

[yardsards]

it's so fucked up the way so many adults brag about and revel in hurting children and this is just... normalized by our society.

a bit ago, my mother was proudly telling me this story about how my niece was misbehaving so my mother spanked her hard in the middle of church. like beating a 4 year old was a badge of strength and honour. (my dad rolled his eyes and said my mother was exaggerating to make herself look tough; it was one swat with a rolled-up pamphlet. which... her exaggerating as though it would be *more* impressive to beat a preschooler *harder* certainly Says Something).

it's all over the internet, too. people who don't have kids yet boasting about how when they have kids, they're gonna spank them. parents proudly posting videos of them dishing out cruel punishments, as though this is something cool and impressive. videos of naughty kids where the comments are full of "if that were my kid, i'd beat them black and blue!" type sentiments, practically salivating at the thought of hitting this child they've never even met.

when defending their actions, parents will say that these "punishments" are not done with cruel intentions, and are only carried out as an unpleasant but necessary duty of parenthood.

but then the tone in which they proceed to brag and fantasize about hurting children is wayyy different than the way a parent would talk about other unpleasant but necessary parenting duties (like changing diapers or going to doctors appointments), but are instead spoken about as impressive displays of strength and dominance.

it's fucked up.

[ddarker-dreams]

If you have any more chrollo ideas you‘d like to share with us, please do so,,, the one with him cutting himself was magnificent!!!! Imagine if he actually did cut himself but like it‘s only a little scratch,,, reader would be so disappointed lol

another dealer's choice??????????? 🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️

-

"You're too stiff, darling."

"And you're too close."

Unlike most of your hyperbolic complaints, this is objectively true. Chrollo's palm is on the small of your back, while the other takes your right hand captive. Through some typical carrot and stick cajoling, you've ended up slow dancing with the devil, but instead of hell as your backdrop, it's a superfluously ornate suite.

Crackling flames sound more becoming than eggshell-colored cabinets, Carrara marble flooring, and sterile modern interior design which upholds the grayscale palette like scripture.

"I'm maintaining a respectable distance."

"There is not a respectable bone in your body," you grumble. "What possessed you to subject me to this, anyway? Do you just have a dartboard with cruel and unusual punishments, or is it a wheel of misfortune?"

"Has anyone ever told you that you have a way with words?" he asks, amusement evident.

"Yes. I prefer when it's coming from anyone who isn't you, though."

His hand on your back creeps down dangerously low; svelte fingers as unwelcome as a spider crawling on your skin. The accompanying track he picked for this excursion — either Frank Sinatra or Dean Martin — skips a beat, the needle meeting resistance in the record's worn grooves.

"Anyone is capable of paying you lip service. However, when it comes to truly appreciating you," his lips hover by your ear, as if he's whispering sweet nothings, "I'd dare say I'm unmatched."

"There's treatment for delusions of grandeur, if you ever want to look into tha— eep!"

The bastard dips you without any forewarning. You're a victim to gravity's will, dangling awkwardly and clinging to him for some stability. His eyes shine with rapacious intent. Thieves are many things, but they are not the type to share.

His smile, handsome as it may be, is far from kind. "It's truly a wonder how easy it is to bend your body however I wish."

You just purse your lips and glare at him.

He takes his time helping you back up, relishing in your close proximity. When you're finally standing on your own two feet, he begins lifting your arms, giving you no chance to regain your balance.

"Let's see... how about a spin next?"

[pennyserenade]

wish you were here.

chapter five - fade into you | ao3 link | previous chapter

pairing: javier peña x female oc, javier peña x named female oc (mariella) rating: t (teen) tags/warnings: angst, brief mention of infidelity, alcohol word count: 2.1k summary: Mariella and Javier continue to feel their way through a friendship. a/n: sorry this is taking me so long to write. love you

A tattered floral scrapbook of Mariella’s sits, face up, on the table. She stands in the corner of her kitchen, looking at it as though it has wronged her in some way. And in some ways, it has. 

In one hand she holds a glass of water and in the other, her telephone. Henry Rath’s number has been typed in, and her fingers hesitate to dial it. The trip down memory lane has proved to be a bitter one. So much of her life had been documented in that scrapbook, from graduations to weddings to the first house, to the very last birthdays she and Henry would spend as a couple together. It was hard to ignore him when he was all there—a little piece of him merged forever with a little piece of her. 

She knew it wasn’t fair, what she did to him. Or rather, what she’s doing to him. In the past three months, he’s left a handful of voicemails she’s deleted before even finishing. She screens most of her calls, just on the offhand chance that it might be him, and each time it makes her feel wrong. At first, it started off with good intention—she wanted to leave him alone, to let him go back to his life. But eventually, the more she thought about what they had done, the more ignoring him became less altruistic. Every time she hears the phone ring, she thinks of him in that hotel room and that little girl that hung on his hip, and she wants as far from it as possible. 

She places the telephone back in its cradle. The excuses are endless: it is Tuesday and she works tomorrow, so she shouldn’t start something she doesn’t know she can’t stop; he probably isn’t home from work yet; he’s likely forgotten about it and to call and remind him now would be cruel; his wife could pick up; closure isn’t the sort of thing either of them are particularly good at. 

Mariella picks up the telephone again. She waits patiently as it rings. 

“Hello?” Chucho answers. 

She leans back onto the counter, swirling the water in her cup. “Hey, Chucho. I was wondering if Javi’s home.”

“Javi?” he asks, sounding surprised. 

“Yeah, Javi. I never thanked him for helping me with my classroom last month and I’d like to.”

There’s a beat of silence before Chucho speaks again. “Javi’s always home, just never know where,” the man laughs. “Would it be alright if I had him call you back? I gotta go find him.”

Mariella glances over at the scrapbook on the table. “That’d be lovely, Chucho. Thank you.” 

When he hangs up, she moves over and closes the book shut. If she wasn’t so goddamn sentimental, she might throw the whole thing away but she is, so she can’t. Instead she tucks it away in the cupboards over her oven, where she’s stored a lone bottle of tequila for about two years now, and then she sits back, waiting. The phone rings a few moments later and she doesn’t hesitate to answer it. “Hello,” she picks up. 

“Mariella?” Javier asks. His voice is low, almost a whisper. 

“I’m sorry I haven’t called you sooner. I wanted to thank you for the classroom. I’ve been using it for about a week now, and it looks wonderful.”

On the other end, she can hear him shift with the phone. “It was no problem,” he replies softly. Then, after a pause, he says, “How are you, Mari?” 

“I’m good, Javier.”

“That’s, uh, that’s good.”

“How about you?” 

More movement. “I’m good too.” 

“My dad says he hasn’t seen you in the movie store as of late,” she says. Javier coughs awkwardly. 

“No? I guess I’ve just been busy.”

“Busy avoiding me? ‘Cause if so, I assure you that’s a safe zone. I don’t work there during the school year, remember?” It’s meant to come out teasing, but, at the current moment, she lacks the exact humor needed to pull off the weight of that sentence. She punctuates it with a laugh that is more of a huff than anything.

He protests. “I—That’s not why.”

“No?” she asks simply. 

“No, not really. There’s just been a lot to do around here. We got new horses. There’s a fence that needs to be built. Chucho just needs me more than the television does.” He attempts to laugh, but it sounds forced. She doesn’t acknowledge it. 

“Think you could spare an hour or two to go get dinner with me?” 

“You want to get dinner?” he sounds in disbelief. 

She can’t help but laugh. “Yeah. One of my new student’s parents owns the bar downtown. They gave me two coupons for a free dinner.”

“Oh,” he replies. “Well, I’ll have to get cleaned up. Can you wait?”

“Sure.”

“Alright. I’ll meet you there at, uh—“ Another pause, “—how about seven?”

“Sounds good.”

“Alright, see you then,” he replies. 

“Yeah, bye,” she adds awkwardly, hanging up. 

Slumping her shoulders, she lets out a deep sigh. Why must everything feel so fucking hard lately?

—-

“Thought you didn’t go to bars,” Javier says, bringing his beer to his mouth. He’s teasing, she can tell: that slanted brow, the pursued lips working hard not to press into a comely grin. She takes a sip of her own drink, and shrugs her shoulders. 

“I don’t,” she hums in response. 

The dinner crowd at the bar is surprisingly large, but conversation is easy to have. It’s nicer, really, in a place like this - too busy to have to worry if the table next to you is listening in. Not that she and Javier have ventured to any topics unsafe for public consumption. They’ve been good, drinking their beers, making small talk the way one might with a friend they’ve grown apart with. It’s got an intimate air to it, but it’s stilted for a strange, heartbreaking reason. 

They don’t talk about all that happened weeks ago, or why they’re sitting here now. Mariella doesn’t mind, really. This is the thing she enjoys about Javier, what she has seen in him since the beginning: he isn’t interested in brewing in the past. If she were a better woman, this might worry her, but luckily enough she isn’t. She understands all too well the temptation to look forward and never backward. 

The beer is making her feel warm and pleasantly buzzed. In the corner, there is a jukebox playing soft country songs and some people are dancing slowly in the middle. She and Javi watch them curiously, resting back in their chairs. 

“How’s the teaching going?” He looks back over at her. 

“It’s going well. The kid’s are as brilliant and witty as ever,” she smiles softly. “How’s the farm?”

Javier shrugs his shoulders. “It’s work. For the first time in months, I’m finally getting a full night’s rest, though, so I won’t complain too much.”

“I’ve always loved that piece of land,” Mariella says, looking back at the dancing patrons. “Miles upon miles of greenery. And the horses! I love driving up and watching them run.”

This makes Javier smile. “Chucho is proud of it and he should be, I suppose. I certainly appreciate it more now than I used to. In Colombia, it was like that—beautiful, I mean. And so green. Standing out in the fields sometimes reminds me of being back there.”

“Do you miss it?” she asks, before she finds the sense to know better. 

Javier’s eyes rake over the crowd, too. He watches a young couple in the corner for a bit, smiling as the boy’s hand gradually works its way lower on the girl’s back. Before he touches her ass, Javi looks back to Mariella, his smile faint but present. “Sometimes,” he answers. 

“I’d love to go someday.”

“You should,” he encourages. “It’s magnificent, really, unlike anything else. That shit they say in the news—it’s true, but not nearly that bad. Not for regular people with clean hands.”

Mariella shakes her head. “Just when I thought you had me sold, you had and go say that.”

“What, your hands dirty?” he narrows his eyes. 

She holds her palms out. “Red,” she nods, though they aren’t. He breathes out a quiet laugh. 

“I think you’d be alright—but go to Mexico first.” 

“You sound like my mother,” she laughs too. 

Looking over at Javi, Mariella debates whether to ask him if he wants to dance or not. The beer has made her feel a little more relaxed, but she’s not without her reason. She remembers the first day they met - really met - and how he said he didn’t know how to dance anymore. She also remembers the kitchen, and the incident that has driven them apart for a month. 

Before she’s given the chance, a woman stops in front of the table. She’s pretty — big blue eyes, an endearing grin — the kind of woman for whom the country accent was made to be spoken by. “Javi,” she says, someplace between shocked and amazed. 

Mariella feels bad at first, thinking this is going to be another one of those small town run-ins he hates, but when she looks over at him, she can tell it’s not. Something softer takes hold of him, something almost tender.  Mariella feels almost like an intruder as he says, “Hey, Lorraine.”

Lorraine’s eyes meet Mariella’s, and then go back to Javi’s. Javi understands. “Mariella, this is Lorraine. She’s my—“

“His old friend,” she finishes for him, extending her hand for Mariella to shake. “It’s nice to meet you. I’ve known about you for years. You’re all your Daddy talks about on Sundays sometimes.”

Lorraine can’t be much older than she is—maybe five or six years—and yet she seems so much more mature. She looks like what Mariella feels she’s been trying to attain her whole life: this perfect, well-rounded, soft-spoken girl who says words like ‘Daddy’ and manages not only to sound sincere, but sweet. 

Mariella shakes her head and smiles politely. “It’s nice to meet you too.” 

Lorraine glances over her shoulder, holding her finger up to a man standing by the entrance. “My husband,” she supplies, looking back at them both. “Listen, I better get going but I just wanted to say it’s nice to see you out and about, Javi. A lot of people here missed you.” Lorraine looks over to Mariella. “And really, it’s lovely to meet you, Mariella. I wish I had more time to sit and chat, because so many people have been telling us about your school. I’ve got a little one about school going age, and I’d love to put her in it.”

“Oh,” Mariella says, “Well, I can give you my number if you’d like.”

“Could you?” Lorraine smiles. “Oh, that’d be lovely.”

Mariella reaches into her purse and rummages around for a pen. When she finds it, she takes one of the napkins from the table and quickly jots down her information. “I wrote down my home number and the school’s. I wouldn’t mind answering any questions you have, but if you’re interested in enrollment information, the office number will be most helpful.”

Lorraine nods. Her hair bounces with her head, and Mariella can’t help but feel like she’s encountered a real life Barbie of sorts. She can imagine that she and Javier must’ve been real good friends, but it doesn’t do anything more than amuse her. 

“Bye, Javi,” Lorraine says, throwing up a hand. She pats Mariella on the shoulder on the way out, “Thank you again,” she says softly. 

Mariella rushes out an “Oh, you’re welcome” and Javier offers a wordless smile. They both watch her return to her husband, but Mariella returns her eyes to Javier long before he does to her. She watches the way a frown takes over his lips. 

Javier brings his beer back to his lips, seemingly shaking the encounter off. The tenderness is replaced by whatever was there before. It’s no less kind, but certainly not as intense. 

“She was my fiancée, once upon a time,” he explains. Mariella wouldn’t have asked, but she’s happy he’s willing to give her that information freely. She nods her head, not saying anything in reply. 

Her eyes return to the crowd, and they both settle into an introspective silence. Mariella forgets she ever wanted to ask him to dance in the first place. For a little bit, she even forgets her own troubles, too. 

She didn’t entirely know why she had called for Javier like she had earlier. He’d been on her mind, sure, but no more than Henry. In fact, a lot less than Henry. Something inside of her had told her to do it, so she had. She’s happy she did, now. 

Misery loves company they say, and she thinks she might’ve found herself a companion in one Javier Peña. 

[womendeservehumanity]

So I’ve encountered incel tiktok and it’s reminded me that sympathy for men is futile

So this video shows up on my fyp and it reminds me that I do truly hate men only a fraction as much as they hate women because I actually felt bad for this guy. To sum the video up since tumblr only lets you upload one video, he responds to this comment by saying he was given a horrible set of cards. He’s ugly, short, low iq. And that he’s bound to be working wagie jobs for the rest of his life. I’m thinking that he’s just one of the many members of the working class tired of an existence that seems pointless. But then I look through the comments on this video and he keeps completely dismissing any comments calling him good looking or saying that it gets better as cope. And that’s when I start thinking yeah this guy def is some blackpill woman hating loser

So I see he responded to a comment and this was the video. What a confirmation! This is rhetoric I see blackpillers/incels spew a lot recently because they literally just regurgitate the same shit in their echo chamber. There’s a meme that went viral that was like “women being able to detect autism in a guy vs women being able to detect a man that will abuse her”. It’s actually insane how much contempt males have for abused women because they only see them as potential matches that chose an abuser over them. They see it as some brutal confirmation that nice guys finish last because women would pick an abusive man over them. As if abusive males are coming up to women like “hey bitch I’m gonna beat the shit out of you come suck my dick” and women are like “ok 😍” when in reality they are very covert first opting to charm and love bomb a woman and once the security of a committed relationship is formed, that’s when the abuse happens.

Also these tards obviously don’t understand the psyche of abusers. They don’t enter relationships with the intention of beating women. That’s not their thought process when meeting a woman so acting like there’s a certain type to sniff out is disingenuous. I will say though. A lot of women do ignore red flags in a man because there ARE certain traits that abusers have. But a lot of that is due to women, from childhood, being conditioned to see the good in men despite major flaws and to give them chance after chance. It’s not because the guy is a tall Chad. Which is what they’re saying in the comments and it’s making my blood boil because the idea that the average abuser is this uber attractive, chiseled god is objectively untrue. Just watch the fucking news. But here are some of the replies to this video that genuinely made my stomach turn. Idk why I’m even shocked atp. I know how much men hate women but Jesus

And if you don’t know what total Stacy death means. Stacy = female version of Chad but incels tend to use it interchangeably with all women. And total Stacy death calls for the extermination of all Stacies (most likely women in general). This was originally inspired by white supremacists saying tnd which calls for the extermination of all black people

There were many more come comments but it was too exhausting to screenshot. I thought this guy was trolling because he’s actually not bad looking and literally looks like the average Mexican guy in Cali (who is also short lol) and they have no trouble dating. But I think he’s very off putting and has some type of social disorder. What I found so crazy is that all of the sane people telling this dude to stop being so self depreciating and fucking weird and then maybe he’d find a girl were getting dogpiled onto by his incel simps. That they’re lying and coping for saying he’s good looking. And you know what I’m glad he feels this way. I’m glad he’s given up on pursing women and as cruel as this sounds, I hope he stays true to his plan of k’ing himself in the future. One less danger to women.

But seriously “the blackpill” is some of the most birdbrained shit. It’s like “women want to date people they find attractive” and that’s supposed to be some type of mind blowing matrix-like truth. No fucking shit. Literally almost every human regardless of gender and sexuality operate with that idea. Did you go up to the women you went up to because you thought she had an oh so great personality? No you went up to her because she was attractive. Women are the ones that have to do the actual rejecting the most since they’re approached more often than not. But men literally select women they find attractive and disclude women they don’t. They just don’t have to be blatant about like women do. As someone who goes OUTSIDE and goes to college, most couples are average looking people dating average looking people because most people are average. It’s not a bunch of women with Chad while all the other men are left with no one. Hell if anything I’ve seen many above average women with average and straight up ugly males.

Anyways. It breaks my heart seeing the original video and all the women defending and supporting him. He’ll completely ignore that and focus on anecdotes that feed into his self depreciation and hatred of women. Women please stop extending kindness to males. The sympathy you feel for them is foreign when it comes to you. They’re literally in the comments calling women trying to reason with him that looks aren’t everything gaslighters and liars. There is nothing you can say to these males that will stop them from hating you. There is nothing you can say to them that will change their deluded minds. Instead of trying to “fix” them while they revel in the abuse and death of women, let them wallow away in self pity and pray they contribute to that rate 🙏

And radblr. Pls pls report this sick fuck’s account. I already blocked him but his username shows up in the video.

[gettingfrilly]

Let's talk about Eddy and empathy

Okay, so. Hand-me-down Ed.

Lotta people talk about this episode. Lotta them have the take that the boomerang unleashed Eddy's repressed nurturing side. This is a very valid interpretation when you consider the abuse Eddy has endured and all the reasons he has to repress any nurture-type feelings. But here is the thing that I think. Or don't think. I don't think Eddy represses a secret nurturing side. I think it got repressed by outside forces when he was young and squishy and moldable, and now there's not really a whole lot of nurturing in there left for him to repress himself. I truly believe the intent of the episode was to show the Eds being the opposite of who they truly are. And Eddy, truly, in my opinion, is an incredibly traumatized kid with some really unfortunate learned behaviors and underdeveloped empathy muscles that just aren't gonna fully recover.

There are two episodes I wanna talk about to back up my claim.

Ah, Dueling Eds. Who doesn't like Dueling Eds? I certainly consider it one of my favorite episodes. It's a surprisingly serious episode with a genuine look at how Eddy navigates the consequences of hurting someone. That long silence in the van with Double D? His continuing insistence that he didn't do anything? Continually asking throughout the whole episode what the hell is even going on? Mwah. Chef's kiss. I've seen a few different theories for what's going on with Eddy in this episode, but I've always felt that he genuinely has no idea what he did, why everyone's acting the way they are, and is incredibly fucking frustrated by how little sense the whole situation is makes. He knows it has to do with the fishball; he even brings it up himself when he's talking about the incident with Double D later. But he doesn't understand why that was wrong. He doesn't get how something so inconsequential in his own mind could be so hurtful to Rolf, and he is either incapable of, or refuses to acknowledge, that just because it wasn't a big deal to him, doesn't mean it can't be a big deal to someone else. (We call this ~theory of mind~ btw and it's a big component of empathy.)

Another favorite of mine, Little Ed Blue. I've talked about this scene before because I love it for a lot of reasons, and one of those reasons is the insight we get into how Eddy's emotions have probably been addressed by those around him in the past. I mean, jeez, this is Ed! He's one of Eddy's most important people! A true and dear friend he's had since he was a toddler and one of the few people in the world who outwardly likes him and gets along with him. And what does he do when Ed's having a bad day? Calls him a wuss, laughs at him, invalidates his feelings, and tells him to get over himself. This is some grade fucking A asshole behavior, even for Eddy. And yet he does it easily without a shred of guilt, convinced this is the correct way to address a friend who's in the throes of misery. I mean, just look at this face.

Has Ed ever made a face like that? His feelings got fucking hurt man. (also, as a sibling, I can say that this is categorically the most Sibling moment between Eddy and Ed in the entire show.)

IMO, someone with a repressed nurturing side wouldn't be that baffled by how Rolf is reacting or be that cruel to their own best friend. This looks more like someone who genuinely has a low amount of empathy. So what's actually going on? Do I think Eddy is just some cold, uncaring asshole? Of course not! He's a traumatized 12 year old kid who's endured intense physical abuse. Cruelty was normalized for Eddy at a very young age. Why should Rolf be so upset about a fishball? It's not like Eddy beat him or something. And what's Ed got to be so miserable about? Men shouldn't act like wusses. Men are supposed to just get over it. And how could Eddy be wrong for thinking these things? It's what he was taught, after all. He learned these behaviors from his hero, after all. This is all he knows. This is what makes sense to him. It's Rolf and Ed who are being ridiculous.

That kind of stunted growth to someone's empathy isn't something so easily fixed. This is why I don't headcanon or write a more grown up Eddy as someone who learns he doesn't have to repress his nurturing side anymore; I see him as someone who's learned that nurturing and empathy are part of the whole "having friends" deal. He's learned that nurturing and empathy are what's considered normal, learned that it's what's expected of any decent human being, man or not. He's also learned, a la BPS, that you have to be a good friend to have good friends. It doesn't come naturally to him. It's gonna take a lot of hard work and growth on his part. But even if Eddy doesn't always understand why he needs to be gentler, needs to just listen, needs to offer a shoulder to cry on, that doesn't mean he won't do it for the sake of his friends. Because even if empathy ain't his strong suit, even if being empathetic is hard fucking work, he still genuinely and wholeheartedly cares about his friends and cares about doing right by them.

[baka-bakeneko]

Double Down - Satoru Gojo x Fem! Reader

tags: sex bet/cruel intentions type beat [cont.], not nsfw, teasing, kisses, slow burn, friends to possible lovers, awkward, kento nanami x reader involved, mwahahahaha

wc: 5.04 k

synopsis: You have made it a day through your so-called sex bet with Gojo and immediately want space. You visit Nanami.

a/n: [part one here] i am really invested in this right now but if you want me to stop like let me know ig

You took in the silence of the morning after Satoru kissed you the night before. The feelings inside you warred against your brain, fighting that he was doing it to seduce you and stake his claim. Nothing more than that.

As you poured your coffee, you reminded yourself that you would not let him win. If not for the bet, then for the sheer fact that he brought this whole thing up to play with you instead of...

You groaned, holding your forehead in your hand and massaging at your temples. You had to stop thinking of Utahime. You really had to stop comparing yourself to her. If you did, you were just as bad as Satoru.

"What's wrong, princess? I haven't even screwed your brains out yet," Satoru's voice was instantly in your ear, coaxing and twisting your stomach at once.

You ducked away from his morning breath, his lips carelessly caressing your ear. "Behave, it's early."

Gojo hummed, the deep tone of it almost making you feel girlish. His hands rested on the counter before you, pressing into your back like he had tested the night before. But this time with a warmer, stiffer third party.

You felt his erection against your backside, this time with less fabric to keep from brushing your hind. Still, you tucked your lips together and straightened.

"About last night..."

"I know what you're about to say," Satoru said, resting his chin on your shoulder. He peeled at the shirt of your pajamas and tempted his lips at the skin revealed. "It was what you were waiting for. You're shocked you kicked me out of bed."

You rolled your shoulders back, denying more of Satoru's effort to woo you. Though your tone escaped differently; your voice was a mewling 'no', as if you were playing hard to get.

But you weren't playing. Gojo wouldn't win.

"Fried dough and a kiss does not make you the victor," you said, finding your bite.

Taking a gulp of your coffee, you emerged from Gojo's hold and leaned against the counter away from him. You tilted your head at him, taking in his mussed hair and tired blue eyes.

"But it's a start," Satoru said, standing upright, unwavering by your rejection.

His hand found the back of his neck, stretching his arm up. It flexed his bicep, revealing a stripe of his toned stomach while his pajama pants rode cautiously on his hips. And with his at-attention cock to seal it all, you clamped your thighs together and turned your attention elsewhere.

You took another pull of your coffee, steadying your focus on anything not morning Gojo-related. Luckily, Megumi and Yuji provided the perfect distraction.

"Gojo-sensei," Yuji called from the doorway of the staff kitchen. "Are we going into town to meet with Nanami?"

You saw Satoru visibly freeze at the mention of his name and Nanami's in the same sentence; you tilted your head around the sorcerer and smiled at Yuji.

"Don't worry, Yuji," you said, flicking your eyes to meet Gojo's then back to the student's. "I'll take you."

-

You managed off of the train station with Gojo's two of three wards in tow. While Megumi definitely took after Gojo, Yuji was spirited and energetic.

You wondered whatever got him going in the morning everyday. You also wondered if Nanami was so jealous of his youth and spirit.

The three of you trekked up the stairs to the main street of Tokyo while you carefully read the directions Satoru had sent you.

"Third building on the street, green sign out front." You repeated, looking up from your phone as Yuji took off for a food stall. "Yuji, get back here!"

"Don't bother," Megumi breathed out.

He mirrored Gojo in style and stature, but his demeanor was nothing short of a tired accountant. You pat Megumi's shoulder then called for Yuji again.

The pink-haired child returned, holding out a white bag in one hand and a tray of drinks in the other.

"Sensei gets the coffee," he said, holding the tray out for you to retrieve the iced coffee. "Megumi, matcha."

Yuji distributed the mid-morning snacks while you all continued down the street, following Gojo's instruction.

"What am I looking for, an office building?" You asked aloud, peering at every other green sign on a building before stopping.

Nanami stood on the sidewalk, patiently eyeing his watch before lifting his gaze. "You're on time."

You shrugged. "Of course."

Kento scoffed, shaking his head. "Gojo would've had me waiting fifteen minutes longer than I'd wanted."

You grinned, taking a sip of your coffee as Yuji offered a travel coffee cup to Nanami along with a cream cheese danish.

Nanami nodded to the first-year student, acknowledged Megumi with a cheers of his cup. "Follow me inside please."

You took a sip of your coffee, allowing the boys to follow after Nanami with you close behind. Following up the stairs, Kento opened the door to Kiyotaka sitting at the main desk of classroom.

He waved at the three of you to all take a seat; Yuji took the opportunity to take the first seat while Megumi sat in the middle row, unenthused.

You sat at the furthest seat from the door, still in the front row while staying out of Nanami's teachings.

"Nanami," Yuji said, raising his hand for Kento to acknowledge him.

"Yuji, you don't need to raise your hand," Kento said, waving his hand to acknowledge the student back. "What is your question?"

"How do you know sensei and sensei-chan?" He asked, thumbing over his shoulder to you.

You couldn't help your snicker from behind your sip of coffee. "Yuji, I'm right here."

Megumi huffed, almost amused by Yuji's question. Kento glanced over to Kiyotaka then to you. His lips turned up slightly, then blinked away.

"Gojo, sensei-chan and I were friends in high school," Kento said, stifling his own snicker at Yuji's term to refer to you.

"Were?" Yuji asked, tilting his head slightly.

You felt a streak of ice down your neck, noting Kento's precarious word. Your eyes focused on Nanami, how his brows quirked at the teen's question.

"Adults..." Kento began, glancing over to you again then back at Yuji, his obvious wide-eyed stare giving him pause. "rarely have time to see each other, especially in this profession."

"Oh," Yuji said, feigning a pout before looking back at you. "Aren't you happy to see Nanamin again?"

You nodded softly, grinning at Yuji then to Kento. "Of course."

Kento melted an inch, his shoulders relaxing as he stared further at you. You caught yourself and turned back to Yuji.

"That's not what we're talking about though. Stay on topic, please."

Nanami cleared his throat at that, dropping his crossed arms and moving to the front of the classroom. You patiently sipped your coffee in silence, even as your phone buzzed.

Fishing your phone from your skirt pocket, you unlocked the screen to a notification from Gojo. It was a media message; you waited patiently for your phone to load the image, only to immediately slam your hand over your screen.

Glancing around the room, you made sure no one witnessed your quick reaction. You looked over your shoulder, seeing Megumi angled far enough away for you to not scar him.

Holding your phone in your hand, you turned down the brightness of your screen then loaded Gojo's photo again. You almost wished your eyes were deceiving you, but you squeaked into your coffee straw and flopped your phone face down.

He'd sent a photo in your bed. Not only was he in your bed, but he was holding a pair of your panties you'd worn that night when you were out together. You'd changed after taking a shower, thinking that the evidence of your arousal was nothing definitive.

And yet...Gojo, like some dirty bloodhound, found them and held onto them while he gripped his crotch through his grey sweatpants.

Leave it to him to be a degenerate when his students are away.

You uncovered the screen of your phone when it buzzed a second time. This time a message.

'I know you like what you saw. Let me know when you're on your way back ;)'

You groaned lowly, stashing your phone back into your pocket to ignore the fluttering in your stomach.

-

"I'll walk you to the train," Kento stated as the five of you left the classroom.

He opened the front door of the building to the downpour of rain, the chill of the air wafting through the hallway. You stood first in the doorway, peeking your head out to see the awnings dripping water from their edges, the rain rolling in waves with the wind.

Kento turned and called for Kiyotaka to grab him an umbrella. At the same time, Yuji pulled up his hood and Megumi slicked his spiked hair down, ready for it to be damaged.

Kiyotaka reached around the boys to give Nanami an umbrella; he stepped out under the awning, deploying the umbrella before holding his hand out for you to take down from the threshold.

"I don't want you to get wet for my sake," you said, stepping under the ocean blue umbrella matching Nanami's dress shirt.

He shook his head. "Don't even worry about it."

He stepped to the side, allowing the boys to lead the way to the train; Yuji took off sprinting, leaving Megumi to leisurely jog after him.

"Boys, be careful!" You called out after Gojo's wards, neither of them pausing to listen as they started down the slick cement stairs to the train station.

You glanced over to Nanami, tilting your head to meet his gaze. He grabbed at the gold holds of his goggles with his free hand, slipped them into his suit pocket with his pocketsquare.

"Ready?" He asked, looking down at you and smiling politely.

You nodded carefully, setting the pace for your trek to the train station. Nanami was metered beside you, his steps calculated and his breath quiet under the noise bounce of the umbrella. You readily stashed yourself to have yet another limited interaction with Kento, but he surprised you as the two of you reached the stairs.

Extending his arm, he offered you to hold it as you stepped one at a time down the wet cement.

"I do appreciate you accompanying Yuji today," Kento offered as he followed you down the stairs.

"I was surprised you invited me, to be honest."

Kento raised his brows at you, his eyes baring into you though his face gave no indication of his mood.

"It's been too long since we've seen each other," he began, sliding a foot down to the next step as you did. "I was surprised you started working for Jujutsu High."

You smiled up at him. "It has been too long, I'll admit. I'm sorry I never reached out again after..."

Kento nodded, taking your trailing tone as enough. "It's okay. I found myself isolating, it was nothing on you."

You raised your brows back at Kento; the two of you made it to the floor of the train station, moving out of the way for the next group of deboarders.

"I would like to see you again though," Kento added, the two of you stood to the side as the rain pattered harder over the umbrella.

The noise heightened under the cover, the drops hitting pavement bouncing back to hit your bare legs. You were surprised at the warmth of the water, the summer heat dialed back with the reset.

You turned to him even as you watched the boys clamber onto the train. Yuji stood up at the window, waving his hand for you hurry up and join them from the corner of your eye; you ignored the text Gojo sent to you, wanting to savor whatever time on your own you could have.

With Kento, of course.

"How about lunch?" You asked, unable to hide your smile as you met his eyes.

Still, his face was almost unrecognizable; his hard features softened the more you stared, his cheeks retaining breath while his tight jaw laxed with his gulp.

"Sure, I know a place," he said, his brows flattening though the corner of his mouth turned up with a smirk.

You nodded, retrieving your phone to quickly dial Yuji to tell him you'd catch the next train back.

-

You sat across from Kento, staring at the appetizer set between you on the table.

He'd shrugged off his suit jacket, setting it on the back of the chair before reaching to undo the cuffs of his dress shirt.

Since the two of you left the train station, it was quiet. You were sure it was due to yours and Kento's distance after such a long time. It was so unlike Gojo, having been around him for longer.

You forgot how awkward you were around Nanami the first time, never knowing what to say even when you were younger.

Now it felt that you knew as many answers to whatever questions you wanted to ask Kento. Just because they were your same answers.

What have you been up to? -Working.

What do you do in your spare time? -Nothing.

Have you kept up with anyone else? -Only Satoru.

You exhaled, reaching for a slice of baguette and the serving spoon for the soft cheese. Food could pad the silence.

"You're just as beautiful as you were in high school," Kento's voice spoke out, catching you in the journey to take a bite of your bread.

You paused, looking from your food to the man across the table. There was no way that he'd said that to you, even as you glanced around to the cafe conversations around you.

Kento chuckled, reaching his hand out to brace your elbow. "I am talking to you."

The giggle that left you was unwarranted, a nervous reaction that you hadn't expected. He smirked fully at you, his fingers lingering on your skin before reaching for his own portion.

"I was just thinking about it, staring at your face. I was wondering what to say next." He continued, taking a piece of baguette and dressing it with cheese and jam.

"Me too," you said, punctuating with a bite of your bread. Between chews, you paused and covered your mouth to continue. "I just didn't think our looks were part of conversation."

Kento spared a huff of amusement, his face practically cracking with expression. He took a bite of his bread, doing the same as you after chewing.

"It wasn't my first topic, I'll say."

"Were you going to ask what I do in my spare time too?"

He nodded, continuing his food before finished off his bite. "And if you're annoyed constantly by Gojo."

You smirked, finishing off your bread with a second big bite. Your phone buzzed again and you froze at the notification. "Constantly."

Kento raised his brows at your stiffened demeanor. "I'm guessing that's him?"

You nodded, shutting your eyes for a breath. "More than likely."

"What could he possibly want at this hour?" He asked.

You shook your head, inhaling deeply and opening your eyes. "Nothing important. He's officially messing with me."

Kento reached for another piece of bread, dressing it up similarly to the last before tilting it to the plate. "Please, help yourself."

You smiled softly and helped yourself again, finally opening your mouth to explain in as little detail as possible, how Gojo was playing with you.

"Utahime, you know her?" You started, the way you asked feeling like the start of gossip.

"Mhm, well know of her. Kyoto Jujutsu?"

You nodded, feeling his confirmation seal your fate. You vowed in the short moment before you kept talking that you were not jealous, you had agreed to the bet under no previous circumstances.

"He likes to mess with her, too," you explained, withholding the point of obsession, the teasing and horrendous flirting.

"Poor her," Kento said, punctuating with a bite.

"Exactly. But now he's bored with her reactions, so now...onto me," you said, the rejection seeping into your tone though your throat burned doing it.

Nanami paused in his chewing, looking at you from across the table. His eyes softened further, his cheeks slightly filled with food.

"As he should be." Kento said after a moment of silence.

You looked up from your piece of bread, unsure when your gaze shifted to admire your appetizer serving. Kento didn't even wait for you to respond.

"I'm not sure I'd leave you alone either." Kento continued before resuming his food. "Not that it's polite, but...if I knew I could keep your attention, I'd do anything."

You found yourself giggling, kicking a tender foot out to Kento's shin. "Why're you saying all this now?"

Kento forced the last bit of bread into his mouth, chewing it down before cleaning up the corners of his mouth. "Because we haven't been able to see each other."

You blinked in disbelief, your phone buzzing again.

Nanami smiled again, reaching into his suit jacket to retrieve his phone. "We should do this again soon."

He turned his open phone to you, the dial pad screen open for your input. You didn't hesitate, typing in your phone number then sliding his phone back to him to input your information.

"Sooner than later," you said as he finished typing on his phone and stashing it. The waiter returned to the table and Kento offered his input on the lunch menu, which you ordered by his first suggestion.

-

Kento walked you back to the train station after lunch, the rain rolling away to reveal the gray sky. He offered his arm again to go down the stairs, this time at your normal pace.

As the train pulled into the station, you turned to Kento and smiled.

"Thank you again, for inviting me today," you said, keeping his eyes though you were tempted to look at his mouth.

"Of course," Kento said, patting your hand braced on his forearm.

The crowd unboarded the train around the two of you, a portion of the sidewalk left untouched around you. Kento squared himself before you, his shoulders stiff as he stood tall before you.

The overhead intercom sounded for the estimated arrival time back to Jujutsu High. Raising your head, you acknowledged the voice before Kento gently caressed your chin and turned your attention to him.

He leaned in, his breath skirting down your chin before his lips connected with yours. Your stomach flipped in that instant; while you enjoyed the touch of Kento's hand on your chin, how warm his lips were...

Your stomach condensed at the thought of Gojo. He was there in the back of your mind, making your face scrunch away from Kento's kiss.

"What is it?" He asked, stepping closer to you in concern.

You shook your head, knowing that considering Gojo's feelings in this would kill your chances with Kento. Pushing up on your toes, you met his lips again, this time curling an arm around the back of his neck to pull him in.

He hummed, bending down to accommodate your stature. His eyes fluttered shut, exhaling deeply through his nose as his hand held at your face.

Your chest tightened, a crackle of warmth emerging up your neck at Kento's proximity. With his kiss, you were reminded of your feelings; how they sprouted from your core and made you want to pile onto him.

Nanami slowly pulled back, effectively breaking off your kiss with a deep sigh. He stared down at you, his hand sliding to the back of your neck to pull you in.

His freshly kissed lips rested to your forehead just as he circled his arms around you in a hug. "Call me when you get home."

You smiled against Kento's suit jacket, glancing up at him as you hugged him back. He offered a tight squeeze before pulling you away, turning you to board the train.

You stumbled through the crowd onto the train, staring out of the windows as Kento remained. He waved a hand out at you, you did the same as the intercom called for the final boarding.

You continued to watch Nanami as he remained, even as the train lurched in departure. Only then did he turn and walk away. When he was far enough from you, you finally retrieved your phone.

Unlocking your screen, your heart felt heavy with the back to back texts from Satoru. You started from his photo, still shaking your head at it before remembering that he wanted to know when you were on your way back.

'Putting the moves on Kento? Good luck getting that stick out of his ass ;P'

You sneered lightly, preparing a text back to Gojo letting him know you were on your way just as an unknown number sent you a text.

You raised your brows, swapping messages to see the disjointed texts of a man who probably didn't text often.

'Hello'

'It's Kento.'

'Kento Nanami.'

You giggled at his effort, readying to text him back. But he sent a bread emoji back first.

'Lunch was great.'

You smiled, biting into your bottom lip while you waited for another text from him.

'I hope you have safe travels.'

'You don't have to call if you don't want to.'

Finally, you texted him back that you would call him on your walk back to the school, how grateful you were for lunch and hanging out.

You felt a tingle on your lip, making you smile further as your text sent. Switching back to Gojo, you finished your text and told him your estimated arrival.

'Finally, I'm bored of sitting here all day.'

-

You made it up the front steps of the school, pushing through the heavy front doors and shutting them behind you. You wished for a moment of peace, holding your hands on the doors with a deep breath.

It was short-lived, however, as a pair of arms curled around your waist and swung you around in a half-circle.

"There's my girl," Gojo teased, nuzzling his face into your neck. He backed you into him, making you gasp at the feeling of his bulge rubbing against your butt.

"Gojo," you warned, shying away from his lips grazing your skin.

You welcomed the feeling of his warm body though in a split moment, you thought of Kento's kiss.

"You were flirting," Satoru sang, flatting his palm to your waist before pushing you further into him. "With Kento. No wonder you're stiff now."

You scoffed, wanting to break from him though the slotting feeling of him began to feel delicious. Your skin livened where he touched, even under your clothes.

It was torturous to not give in, with how easily he came to you and showed his affection. Which, you realized while hardening again, was against the ground rules.

Your eyes shot open, scoping around the front room of the school, knowing that you two were alone but never sure.

"I wasn't expecting to be manhandled," you bit out, prying his arms from around you and straightening up. "I see you've done nothing all day."

You laxed your eyes down Gojo's long frame, still in his morning leisure.

"But on the contrary," Satoru said, beaming with slight pride at the big word he'd uttered.

Grabbing onto your hand, he pulled you down the main hallway to the dorm rooms and into the staff bathroom. He slid the door shut behind you, standing tall before carefully covering your eyes with his hands.

"Now, I know that you've been riled up all day," Satoru started, pressing against you to make you walk.

You rolled your eyes behind his hands, felt his breath creep up your neck before his teeth nipped at your ear. You squeaked, pausing at the step threshold before you.

"Between me and Kento definitely putting the moves on you," he continued, though his tone was almost sarcastic at Nanami's utterance.

"So, maybe it's time to relax," Gojo said, pulling his hands from your eyes. He leaned into your ear again, circled his nose around the shell of it. "Before you give in to me."

You tilted your head away from Satoru's words, willfully ignoring his conceit.

It was repetitive in your head, you would not let Satoru win. The decision itself would inflate his insane ego. Still, you were captured by the sight of the public tub surrounded by tealights, flower petals sprinkled into the water.

You glanced over your shoulder at Gojo, recognized the prideful look on his face. It was cute, you couldn't lie to yourself. He rested his hands on your hips, bending to rest his chin on your shoulder.

"Mind if I join you?"

You raised a brow at him. "Hands to yourself?"

Satoru scoffed, opening his mouth in feigned shock. "I can control myself. Can you?"

You almost shook your head at him, not ready to believe him. But you agreed, on the basis that you both showered beforehand.

Meeting back at the bathtub, you held onto the clasp of your towel as Gojo was already in the back corner of the tub. You gulped, staring at the crystal clear water directly in front of you instead of anywhere near Satoru.

"Come on, before you get cold," he teased, pulling the washcloth from his shoulder to drape over his waist in the still water. "It's nothing I've seen before."

You furrowed your brows at him, tightening your hold on the clasp of your towel. "This is how you think you're gonna get me in?"

Gojo met your eyes, his endless depths mirroring the water. Tilting his chin boyishly, he smirked.

"Worked for Utahime."

You bit into your inside cheek, unclenching your jaw to not look annoyed. Utahime, this; Utahime, that. Utahime would do this.

"But I'm not her," you said flatly, stepping away from the tub. "Fucking try again."

You turned around and went for the door, storming in the direction of your room.

"Hey," Satoru called after you, the sloshing of water punctuating his tone.

You didn't stop, folding your other hand over your stomach to hold your towel closed.

"C'mon," He purred after you, catching up with his relaxed gait.

You heard his wet feet patter closer behind you just as you reached your room door. Gojo slipped inside after you, sliding the door shut behind him.

You kept your back to him, sitting down at the edge of your bed with a soft exhale. Satoru stood at the door, holding the damp washcloth over his crotch, barely keeping his cock concealed.

"What just happened?" He finally asked, raising his shoulders at you in question.

You stared straightforward, thinking over what to explain the sudden ignite in your stomach. "I didn't appreciate that."

Satoru dropped his shoulders with a sigh, walking to sit next to you. Your top lip twitched in slight amusement, seeing his toned pale ass in a slight flash before he sat down.

"You know I'm not serious," Gojo said, turning to look at you. "I'd never bring Utahime here."

Your eyes rolled, another nerve struck within you. Your heart was now the once red-hot steel now battered down by Gojo's heavy teasing.

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding," Satoru said, his hand skimming your jaw to turn you to him.

Your movements felt stilted, slowed down when you were coaxed to do so. In that moment, you compared him to Kento's words earlier.

"I'm sorry, I am," he said, leaning in to kiss your cheek. "I hadn't done that for Utahime."

You inhaled deeply, shying slightly from his lips. "Wow, just testing the waters for her again."

"Hey," Satoru said, turning you to look at him fully. His eyes were suddenly darker oceans, his brows flattened as he bored into you. "She's not here. You are. I'm teasing with you. I'm trying to seduce you."

Your body tightened then, your knees pressed together as a tickle trailed down your back. Your tongue tempted out to wet your bottom lip, but Satoru's thumb touched at it.

You let him peel your bottom lip down, his thumb grazing the edge of your tongue between your teeth before tilting your face up. He leaned in to graze your lips with his.

You whimpered, feeling your body ease into his like it was second nature. You felt Satoru's lips curl in a grin at your noise, his other hand slipping from his waist to hold your knee.

Your eyelids fluttered, acknowledging his roaming hand up your thigh. His tongue met yours with a soft lap, melting you an inch as his fingers tempted under your towel.

You gasped, biting away in the last moment; your mouth gaped before his as you barely scooted out of his hold.

Gojo shook his head, his smile never faltering. "You are playing the hard game, huh?"

You didn't answer, only tucked your towel tighter around your body. His eyes raked over you, leaning forward to kiss your neck.

"Or are you afraid to let me win?" He whispered, his hand pinning the bed opposite side of your body.

You said nothing, attempting to regulate your moans with choking gasps. His hand at your jaw slid down your shoulder, lining down your back before caressing your ass. Satoru squeezed at your hip, then your thigh before pulling your knee onto the bed.

You turned your head to stare at the ceiling, the heat in the room growing with Gojo's determined touch. Shutting your eyes, you imagined Kento in his position. He'd be softer in his touch, more romantic and slow.

It was sudden that Satoru's fingers brushed at your pussy. You squeaked, this time scrambling off of the bed and standing against the door.

Satoru's brows shot at your departure, an entertained smirk growing on his lips. "You are afraid to let me win."

He sat up straight, folding the washcloth to his at-attention cock. "Don't worry. When you're ready, I'll be gentle."

You stared at him, your face confusing yourself. Gojo gracefully pushed off of your bed, walking over to quickly peck your temple.

"And don't worry, I'll let Kento down gently," he added, turning to leave your bedroom with his ass cheeking freely.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

reader tags: @ctmaw @rorel1a @theclassbookworm

tysm for your interaction with the first part, i'm so glad you all liked it, meanwhile i like slow burns rn

[itsanerdlife]

Wicked Intentions 4

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Stark!Reader // (Seriously close) Steve Rogers x Reader // Clint Barton x Reader // T’Challa x Reader.

Warning: Violence. Language. Bullying. Girl Fights. Name Calling. Degrading Comments. Angst. Degrade of Woman (to a point). Criminal Life. Illegal Shit. Fights. Alpha Males. Stalking.

Characters: Peter Stark. Howie Stark. Bucky Barnes. Steve Rogers. Clint Barton. TC (T’Challa). Ben Reilly. Cledus Kasady (CK). Brock Rumlow. Gwen Stacy. Wanda Maximoff. Becca Barnes. Amore Lorelei. Kitty Pryde. Frank Castle. George Barnes. Joe Rogers. Winni Barnes. Pepper Stark. Wade Wilson. Eddie Brock. Warner Strucker. Barney Barton. Bobbi Morse. Pietro Maximoff. Logan.

A/N: This is a Bully Romance. High School setting. Mafia Family Life. Woman are on a lower level than males in their world. Just a heads up. This is the third installment of the series. Bad Intentions, Cruel Intentions, and Wicked Intentions.

Credit: Huge shout out to @ml7010 for all the help, pushing, hyping up, putting up with my changes midway through. If it wasn't for this peach, y'all never would have gotten this series or nearly as far as I am now.

It’s a full house, bustling along, a wedding well underway.

“Red.” I hold up a bridesmaid’s dress, in black from the rack my mother pushed me towards.

“Black?” Red lifts a brow at me.

“It’ll be slimming for Gwen.” I grin at her.

Gwen shoves dresses to one side, glaring at me. Wanda and I laugh.

“Fuck you, bitches.”

“We love you.” I laugh, stepping between the legs of the rack, climbing over to her. Wanda follows, Gwen laughs. My hand lands on her small belly she’s growing. “And we love you.” I coo at her belly.

“Kiss ass.” Gwen snorts, Wanda joins in, cooing at our niece or nephew.

“Inherit aunties, right hook.” I whisper.

“Y/N!” Gwen laughs hard.

“Now that would bless by Satan.” We look over to see Clint joining us.

“Packman?” I lift a brow at him. “Joining us for some wedding planning?” Grinning at him.

He tucks his hands into the pockets of his jeans. Nodding his head slowly. “I was hoping to talk to you, boss.” He shrugs a shoulder, a small smirk on his lips.

Glancing at the girls, they nod.

“We’ll go with the black.” Wanda nods. Gwen agrees with a nod, both moving to leave us.

“Now what could have you coming over here during wedding planning?” Smirking at him as we move to sit on the stairs.

He chuckles softly. “I’d say this is your last chance to trade up.” I laugh, bumping my shoulder into him.

“Thought you were just going to be my fantasy?” I grin at him.

He nods slowly.

“Mmm. I see.” I nod slowly, looking away from Clint, watching the movements of the house. People running, fabrics, planners, glasses, the girls, my mother, Frankie and TC all hurrying about.

“See what?” He swallows.

“You won’t be my fantasy anymore. I’m not your type.” I smile, looking over at him.

He scratches the back of his head. “Nah I’ll always have this love for you.” He sighs.

“Love for me like a sister.” Smiling at him.

He sighs. “Yeah, like the baby sister I didn’t ask for, ever. Didn’t really want. But got anyways.” We laugh.

“I didn’t sign up for two more brothers, you know.” I nudge him in the shoulder with my own.

“You know I’d kill someone over you?” He sighs, smiling at me.

Laughing, I nod. “Think Bucky beat you to that.”

“I’d save you a thousand times over, trade places with your bruised and broken body, to protect you. You know that?” He glances over at me.

“I never said thank you, Packman. For saving me.” I whisper softly.

“Don’t ever do that to me again.” He whispers.

Glancing over at him, I smirk.

He sighs, shaking his head.

“No promises. I’m a wild card.” Winking at him, making him laugh.

“No shit.” He scraps his hand over his mouth.

We sat there in silence for a moment.

“What do you need from me?” I ask quietly.

He smiles at me. “Don’t know why I thought I was going to have to explain anything to you.”

“I know you, Packman.” Shrugging a shoulder.

“Tell me you approve?” There’s a plead in his pretty storm blue eyes.

Nodding slowly. “We both know you don’t need my approval.”

“I do.”

“Packman,”

“I need it. I need your approval. I need to know you agree, think it’s a good match.” He swallows.

“It’ll be a national sad day when you announce it.” Smirking at him.

He softly laughs. “As Satan, as my baby sister, the reason we Saintz do what we do. As queen, taking over the table, boss ass bitch, I need to know it’s right.” Tipping his head he watches me.

“Well you didn’t have to force her to fall in line or worry who you Saintz are.” I laugh, Clint hangs his head, chuckling. “So she’s got that going for her. A little normal, maybe boring, but we can help with that.” I grin at him.

“That girl gang is going to be something out of nightmares.” He shakes his head.

“Bet on it, Packman.” I grin.

“I always bet on you, Sweets.” We grin at each other.

“Okay.” I nod.

He lifts a brow. “Okay?”

“She cheats or looks at another dude and I’m going to bless her.” Cutting my eyes to him. He grins at me.

“With your right hook?”

“And my knee.” Shrugging.

He grins, nodding. “Satan combo.”

“I approve, Packman.”

“Think the table will?” He wonders. “They weren’t keen on us bidding on you.”

Leaning back for a moment, I stood suddenly. “Come on, Packman.”

He stands following me. Passing TC I tip my head indicating for him to follow.

Knocking on the door, I push it open.

“Little Miss?” My father looks up at me stepping in. “Boys.” He nods to the two following me in.

“I need you to call a meeting.” I rest on the arm of a chair.

He looks from me to them. “Any reason?"

“Packman is bidding on Bobbi.” I explain.

“Congrats Barton.” He smiles.

“Thank you, Sir.” Clint nods.

“And you want to make sure it gets approved.” My father looks to me.

Shrugging, I tuck a foot up on the seat, my hands on my knees. “I’m putting my weight behind it, daddy. Bobbi helped save me that night, with Clint.” I nod.

My father swallows hard, leaning back in his chair. “And you want this to be your first movement at the table?”

“My life, for their happiness. I’m sure.”

My father locks eyes with Clint, before nodding.

“I’ll make the call, eight tonight.” He nods, grabbing his phone.

“We’ll be there.” I nod, standing.

“Miss,” my dad calls when I get to the door, looking back to him “you’ll be the first woman at the table, ever.” He swallows hard. A flicker of fear in his eyes.

Lifting my chin “I know daddy, it’s a good thing you helped birth Satan. Some old men don’t scare me. I fight boys, and my father will set anyone afire.” I smirk at him.

“Your soon to be husband kills people for you.” TC smirks.

“Imagine, what my brothers would do.” I smirk, shrugging.

“We’d burn the town down, Sweets. Blood on our hands for you is an easy choice.” Clint chuckles.

Looking at my father, I smile softly at him. “They tried to cut me down, I survived. That was their first mistake daddy.” My father smiles softly, nodding.

I leave the office, TC and Clint following.

--------- Everything Peaches 12/8/22 @mo320 @ml7010 @kmc1989 @joannie95 @coley0823 @rileyloves5 @sexyvixen7 @duckestylez @abschaffer2 @drayshadow @shirukitsune @xoxabs88xox @carostar2020 @rosalynshields @hookslove1592 @royal-sunflower @iwillbeinmynest @bellamy-barnes @geeksareunique @happydeanpotter @fanfic-n-tabulous @steel-blue-eyess @mariekoukie6661 @bless-my-demons @notyourtypicalrose @lets-talk-about-xyz @loving-life-my-way @shinycupcakebaker @also-fangirlinsweden @stupendous-science @daughterofthenight117 @dandelionsmarkthegrave @physically-a-cheesecake @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked

Bucky 'Fuck Me Up' Barnes: @nickyl316h @jbbarnesgirl @lets-roggerthat @this-is-mycrisis @kaylaphantomhive

Series tags: @sebastians-love

[danieyells]

Sure Haku can have big balls but we all agree Alan Thoma and Jiro have big dicks? But not like slightly above average but rather 20 minutes foreplay just to loosen up but still be a fair stretch, big as in a fair amount of lube is needed to even slip the head in and might need more to fully thrust inside

You only need that kind of prep if you're a coward!

THEY ARE RATHER LARGE MEN y'know as far as the bishie style goes. It'd be pretty proportionate of them to be well hung and i'm all about sicknasty size difference and distention if you've got a small enough partner--

Fortunately all three of them are. . .idk graceful enough not to be cruel about it.

Alan is definitely inexperienced and he's already so fucking scared of harming his partner he would just. . .whenever they try and get him in bed he just goes "We can't. Sorry." Fortunately he's not the type to, y'know, beat around the bush so if they ask him he'll explain. . .and if they say they wanna try anyway he'll give it a go but he'll be ready to stop the moment they seem uncomfortable or in pain. Which means a lot of reassurances that it's fine, it's fine, keep going. It'll be a lot of convincing, but he'll be as slow and gentle as he can! His partner would probably have to do a lot of leading. . . . Alternatively he'd be all about getting them off and appreciating their body and when they wanna return the favor he hesitates then says they don't have to. He can take care of it himself if they don't want to. And they're like 'why would I not want--oh' when he pulls out this monster.

Tohma has much more experience and is much more confident overall. When things reach that point with his partner he's a little more direct. Maybe he grinds against them to let them get a subtle feel long before the first time they do it, or he just takes their hand and lets them have a feel for themself. "Do you understand? If we take that route, I'm going to need a fair bit of your time. . . ." He knows just how to prepare them, just how to stretch them out, and he makes certain to pleasure them the whole way--and if they're a little limp from the pleasure buildup then. . .that'll just make it easier to put it in at the end. He might hold them up and gently guide them down onto him. . .use them as a little fleshlight once they've gotten used to it enough.

Jiro isn't even fully aware of that he's particularly large. Like, numerically he is, he's studied anatomy before and he's seen Yuri naked and he's a lot smaller(well, Yuri's smaller in every aspect) but it somehow hadn't occurred to him that it could be a problem. Meanwhile the one who knows is Yuri--and when Jiro's partner shows up, Yuri just looks at them in irritation. "Ah, yes, Jiro did say he had plans today after his treatment." And Yuri just thrusts a particularly large, unlabeled jar of gelatinous fluid at them, telling them not to take too much time because they are very busy and Jiro being occupied is a hindrance. And Jiro's like "oh, Yuri said we'd need a lot. I've read that too much can reduce the pleasure, though. I don't care either way, so just use as much as you want." (Not that he can't feel it or anything, he's just. . .indifferent for the most part. It doesn't bother him if he doesn't come, he'll take care of it later if it's a problem.) And of course they understand why they thought they'd need so much when Jiro whips it out. Jiro's very analytical about the whole thing, once he realizes that hm, yes, this won't fit, but with enough elasticity--he's got no problem figuring out what should be done to prepare. The massive jar of lube may or may not be experimental but it does the job with great efficiency. . .turns out it was an experimental gel for anomalous ailments where the afflicted turn to stone or wood with the intention of relaxing muscles and joints and regaining flexibility, but it works great as a lubricant! Jiro's also not very experienced and his tendency to experiment means he might be a little rough just to see how it all works, but he's considerate enough of his partner not to go too hard once he realizes oh that hurts, huh. Kinda antithetical to the evening's plans.

[thesharktanksdriver]

The wanderers tale of Chang’e and Houyi (romantic)

This isn’t canon to these part 1 and part 2

This is a what if scenario, and I might write some more for different characters. None for the Greek pantheon tho for obvious reasons

This was a lot of fun to write, sorry if Qin is out of character but he is fucking whipped in love. Man is literally on his knees

tried adding some historical stuff in this but i'm not the most knowledgable on Chinese history or myth so please take it with grain of salt

For much of his life the concept of love is foreign to Qin let alone that of the romantic kind

Sure, he saw displays of it in small ways on the streets

A couple linking hands or exchanging kisses behind the cover of fans in the midnight hour

But he never thought he’d experience it

For he was hated by everyone including himself for the sins of of his family

For the deaths they caused that now transferred to him by the blood in his veins

It is cruel but for the longest time he accepted he’d never be given love of any kind until Chun Yan showed him he was worthy of it

It is through her he learns familial love

Not romantic love of any sorts but a type of love that leads him to discover and be curious of the other forms of love later on in his life

When he becomes empowered he explores this concept as times goes on

Lust and desire

But never actual connection

Not the love he’d hear in tales or see between young lovers

No, He’d yet to still experience that actual form of romantic connection formed through genuine intimacy

But for awhile he was fine with that

Perhaps even grateful he had not been subjected to such an intense feeling

Something that could bring down entire empires and could shatter men’s spirits like sticks to a boot

And for a long time it remains that way

Until the 3rd year of your friendship with him as his personal historian

It’s hardly something he notices at first

Just the small feeling of wanting to be near you more often than he already was

It was strange but be brushed it off for a long while

Perhaps it was him just missing your presence due to the two faced courtesans he had to deal with on a daily basis

No one was quite as truthful or real as you were

You never had stray intentions with him

Just treating him as a real person

Still respectful but not overly so

It’s a slow process for him

One built on denial and confusion as he tries in his mind to write off his behaviour

He’d never felt this type of love before

It’s foreign and slightly scary to him for several reasons

One of which is cause he’s afraid of loss

The death of Chun Yun had…hurt him a lot

Left himself a shattered visage to be rebuilt into a strong facade

For not only himself but also his people

It is something done due to his duty

A responsibility placed on his shoulders

He takes being a king seriously but in the process he loses a bit of himself

With you though he makes the choice to spend time with you

Listen

Indulge

Talk

When he’s with you warmth blossoms in his chest like a flower in full bloom

Petals opening to reveal something beautiful yet tender

It feels…nice

He feels for once vulnerable

And it’s nice yet scary

But with time he eases into it

Gently placing his heart in your hands

It beats like a drum in your presence much to his pride

But at the same time. He enjoys the sensation

The fact that you make him feel so flustered

It’s honestly amazing that such small acts such as your smile can make the emperor feel light on his feet

He once laughed at the tall tales of men foolishly in love

Now he is that fool

The ones who’d offer the moon and hang the stars in their beloveds name

Chun Yun once talked of love once, hoping he’d one day experience that beautiful emotion

He now understood as to why she spoke so highly of it

But as he finally admits to himself that he’s fallen deeply head first into this endless void

You reveal you must leave soon

Unknown to you his heart cracks

In the months ticking down to your departure he spends as much time with you as he can

He feels now that he’d taken your presence for granted

A luxury that he assumed would stay despite knowing you were a free bird

One who would not stay east forever and eventually travel somewhere else

He feels desperate though

Grasping at strings to reach out and convince you to stay

Pleading with every interaction for you stay

To please stay

in time he realizes it’s a fruitless endeavour

Yet he tries anyways

Because that’s the only thing he can do

Yet he can’t admit his feelings

Especially now that your leaving

Maybe confessing would get you to stay but it feels cruel, a way to guilt you into become a caged bird

Love should not be bound in shackles or a gilded cage

It is free

And he would never take that away from you

So he tries to convince you with deals

With time dwindling down he tries to inch closer

A hand almost touching your own

Eyes staring with lidded looks beneath their gaze

It’s not direct, perhaps the only time the emperor isn’t

He feels himself clam up at the last minute

It’s unbefitting of him but it’s Ying Zheng peaking through the cracks and taking the reigns of his heart

The young boy from the streets who only wanted love

Who’s scared of ruining what’s more than enough for that fragile heart

It’s pathetic that he’s battling with himself over this

A back and forth between two voices in his mind of his head and heart

Yet it endures as the days whittle down

During this time he becomes interested in tales of love

Specifically that of Houyi and Chang’e

A love bound for tragedy

A simple mortal man in love with someone divine

Requited yet torn apart

Yet despite it all he still loves her and still still mourns and waits

In some sense he hopes for something like this

But for now he resonates with the story

So much so he decided to incorporate the story into a parting gift for you

A bracket

One that is beautifully crafted with his finest stones

Intricately crafted to last

One that is made to pair with his own

It’s a sign that you will forever be the emperors closest friend

But also with the double meaning of a reference to Chang’e

To him you are his Chang’e, his love who shall never age and has to leave despite how much he pleads

And he is Houyi, who can only watch and do nothing but shed tears as you go

As you leave on your stead and ponders if this was the worst pain imaginable

Having you gone is a change of pace that leaves him uneven

There are no more talks of travel

Of warrior’s and battles from far off lands

A new courtesan takes your place but it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth

He wonders if your alright

If your ok

You once talked of a loneliness of being immortal

Seeing those you loved dear die from the passage of time

It’s natural yet it hurts

The loss of Chun Yun was one of the worst pains in his life, but knowing you’d always outlive those you’d grown close to must be hell

He doesn’t want to put you though than once more if he can do something to stop it

He anything but a simple man

And he begins trying to at least look for a solution

It is a neigh impossible task but he tries

And tries

And tries

And years tick onwards

When he lays awaken in silk sheets alone at night he stares at the moon

Taking another mercury pill as he stares at the silvers rays of light

A part of him knows that the pills aren’t his ticket to immortality

But he pushes himself to try anyways

Cause he is so desperate to become immortal for you

So he can be by your side without fear of hurting you in the end by dying

If it came down to it he’d leave everything he’s built till now for it

His empire could be transferred to someone else and he’d be completely fine with it

He’d be fine going back to a simple life

Perhaps he’d even prefer it over all the frugality of court life

And it would all be because of you

Beautiful and kind you who had shown him true love

Not fake nor manufactured to manipulate him to certain ideals or sides

Just true and pure love that formed through meaningful conversations and a beautiful friendship

So he swallows down the silver liquid

Ignoring the taste and how he feels his sanity slipping each time he take yet another

Though he bares heirs in the form of sons he never takes an empress or official partner

For in his heart that place is forever filled by you

And as he lays dying as he tours his beautiful land

The land in which you traversed and loved oh so dearly

He can’t help but smile as his tells his guards to let you in

They cast you glances of curiosity that he straightens out with his glare

He asks for privacy and they comply

Leaving you and him alone yet again like those nights long past where you and him would talk

He raises a hand to caress your face

“I think this is my end, I feel myself slipping every moment”

There is no sadness in his voice, just a chuckle as he gazed up at your beautiful face highlighted by glistening tears

They remind him of diamonds or the morning-dew

“I’m sorry I couldn’t visit sooner-“

“Shhh, it’s alright. What matters is now”

At that you have a small smile that makes his heart beat faster than it had in months

For a long while now he knew he was on the brink of death but still pretended (even to himself) that he’d be fine

He was emperor

The king of kings

But now as he lay in his death bed, Alone with the one person who seen him as he is

He was no longer king, he was Ying Zheng

Someone who was utterly human

A man in pursuit of that horridly consuming emotion of love

Requited or not he didn’t care

All that did matter was that he try, try to make you happy

To ease your emotions of utterly loneliness at loosing almost everyone you come to care for

You don’t curse death but he does in your place

How can he not when he shall never see your face again in the afterlife

You may have accepted death as a natural part of life

That it’s alright you will never see your friends again

But he thinks it’s cruel

A awful fate for someone as radiant as yourself

You seem to see his thoughts and silences them with a smile as a gentle hand cradles his face

All this thoughts of cursing death pause

And he focuses on you

The gentle curve of your face that was shaped with skilled hands

Those tear lined eyes that outshine any jewel in his treasury

A smile that outshined the very sun in the sky

Skin softer than the best silk robes he wears as he awaits death

The harsh cold ranking his body fades away and all he feels is warmth

A warm numbness taking over

You say something but he can’t hear it

He says so in a soft voice that comes out as a whisper

You nod

He’s fading by the moment

A part of him has accepted this fate but the other still fights

Still wishes and begs to just push further

Immortality could still be possible

But as you lean closer that voice quieted down

Both did

All he focused on was you giving him something he had wanted for years

Lips connect and he feels a jolt of many emotions

Joy

Sadness

Relief

And Peace

He swears he sees purple sparks flutter around you like petals of soft flowers

This was your goodbye to him

A kiss of goodbye

A kiss of reciprocated feelings between one another

A kiss of star crossed lovers bound to a fate of their love never working

And a kiss of death

“I hope I have a next life where we may meet again so you don’t have to be alone once more”

After so long of the afterlife and it’s pleasant buzz of apathy he’s suddenly confused when he wakes up

Well more like being woken up by yelling and the sound of breaking things as other men around him look just as disoriented and confused as he was

But then a woman appears, one dressed in white with a otherworldly aura

The look in her eyes is determined and simultaneously baring the weight of the world in them

He gets up from laying down in his casket, silken robes swaying as his feet touch the marble ground

He’s alive once more and somehow younger

In his prime again

In that moment he’s tempted to just leave the room and head out to find you once more but waits

He suspects The ethereal woman standing unafraid in front of him and the various other men who seemed to be warriors is the reason behind this

And has a reason as to why she chose very specific people to seemingly bring back from the dead

And not long after he learns that reason

“The gods want to wipe out humanity. I chose you all to participate in Ragnarok, a battle of 13 chosen contestants against the gods to the death. the determiner of humanity’s fate”

Ah, now that makes sense

But then why did she say 13?

There are 12 fighters here and she doesn’t seem as if she’ll be participating

She seems to most likely be the player in this game

Their her pieces to lead into battle so-

Suddenly his eyes dart to the doors across the room

They open and he watches as a familiar person enters

One who’s face was forever ingrained in his mind from restless nights left awake

Someone with the same smile as the day he first had a real conversation with them

It’s you

Before anyone could react he’s already across the room

Silk robes fluttering in the air as he darts past other warriors of different times eras

You have the same beautiful smile on your face

Arms already open wide as the first emperor crashes into your form

Arms wrapped tightly around you as if you’d disappear if he let go

Words in his mother tongue that was now a dead language fall from his mouth

Hushed rambles unbefitting of a king yet he doesn’t give a fuck

Why should he when your here

He was no king in your presence

For he was just a man with his heart on a platter, handing it to your gentle but weathered hands

It would not matter if you crushed it or treasured it

Only that you accept it

The room is completely quiet as you respond back in the same tongue

Almost as if you’d spoken it everyday and not in literal centuries

he holds back tears that will be saved for later when he had an actual private moment with you

With some hesitation he pulls back

Still feeling as if you’d disappear like sand between his fingers if he let go

But when he does he’s simply met once more with your smiling face

It shines radiantly like the sun, moon and stars

You were his sun, moon and stars

“We have a lot to catch up on Qin”

“Yes we do beloved”

“Beloved? Heh, I wish you had called me that much sooner than years after your death”

“I have some time to make up for that don’t I?”

“Not much…but it should be enough for me. I’ve missed you”

“As did I”

Safe to say after a bit of an explanation from the Valkyrie who introduced herself as Brunhilde the other warriors as hounding him for answers

Particularly cause many of them were apparently some past friends of yours

Some before and after his death

It’s interesting meeting the many he heard about in person

But what’s more is the ones that came after him

The fact that you’d apparently mention him

Or someone close to his description who was very dear to you

It’s odd hearing about his legacy but from your words

They spoke of his character and didn’t focus on the achievements

Highlighted the fact he was a human

A man just like any other who had risen from poverty to power

His misdeeds but also a reason as to why such decisions were made

A balanced perspective

Not like he’d except anything else from you

A true historian through and through

Much had changed throughout the years

The world was completely different from his time, as was his empire

It’s to be expected though and he enjoys learning all that had changed

In the quiet moments you talk he finds himself content

Sure, he’s supposed to be facing a god soon who has a good chance of killing him

But at the moment it doesn’t matter

There’s still time before the matches begin

Still town to train with not only his fellow contestants but also you

Something he particularly was excited about since he’d never seen you seriously fight

Well until now

Your true immortality come full purpose

Wound after wound being instantly healed with a few sparks of purple lightning fizzing around your form

Loud strikes echoing in the training grounds as he watches from afar

Gods he feels weak at the sight of your battle determined face

Violet lightning making your form look even more powerful

A few warriors like Lü Bu and Raiden tease him for being whipped for you

But the others seem to enjoy how this prideful king does a 180 the moment your around

It’s fun and nice

Though they had not known him for long they get the sense he’s a guarded man

Someone who had been hurt and vowed to not show that vulnerability once more

But it seems you had changed that

Breaking through that wall around his heart to let his true self deep through the cracks

While alone with you it’s a calm but joyful experience

You lay in his lap, head readying against his thighs covered in soft silky material

You say he doesn’t have to do so, but he insists

Despite loving in indulging in luxuries it seemingly switched when you were around

Him wanting to instead indulge you in the greatest he could offer

You don’t need it but its nice being cared for

Gently held by warm hands that help the tenseness in your shoulders or plays with your hair

once in his presence you allow yourself to enjoy in this indulgence

Small protests going away as soon as you laid down on hundreds of cushions as he worked his metaphorical magic

Conversations here go beyond what had just changed

Often reminiscing of old court life and what you had done or seen over the years

The people you’d met

The places you’d wished you could have taken him to

Outside of his room is an arena where the weight of the world weighs on both your shoulders

But in here it’s just you both catching up on lost time

Affectionately in each others embrace

Old and new nicknames falling from each others lips

Flowery language long abandoned by the world in a dead language brought back

A love not meant to be now brought back from the ashes like a Phoenix

Sometimes he thinks this is a dream he’ll wake up from

Being cruelly ripped from your loving arms and back into that of deaths cold embrace

But as you kiss comforts into his ears the thought melts away

He was in heaven

This was something he’d fight for

A mere mortal like him in the arms of something Divine

Something that would be frowned upon yet neither of you cared

Not when you’d both awaited to reunite despite fate saying naught

“You make me feel alive…human even”

“Who’s to say you aren’t human in the first place?”

“I’m a soulless being, one made of artificial flesh and lightning coursing through my veins. I’d say I’m hardly human”

“Your the most beautiful thing ever created ”

Your father contrary to Qin’s initial beliefs is practically radiating joy when he meets the former king

Hephaestus is jolly, giving a firm handshake despite being a god

It’s a bit jarring at first

But in a good way

It’s no wonder you become the person you are today, especially with such a gruff yet gentle man that had made you with his bare hands

Smouldering smoke wafts up from the man’s singed beard

Embers glowing softly when you embrace him with the same kindness he exudes

He smells of the forge, metal, sweat, ash and fire

It’s a deep contrast to your more earthy toned one

Something that spoke of adventure and travel

Yet despite the glaring differences your both much alike

A father and his child

Different yet more alike than what meets the eyes

Talk with Hephaestus is easy

Eager to hear of how you both met or ramble about his inventions

The way he seems so genuinely engaged with any type of small conversation makes Qin think of himself as a kid

Someone who everyone looked down upon and never gave the light of day

A begging soul pleading for someone to listen

He feels an knot of rage and pain wind up in his soul

This god was caring, more caring than many of the people he encountered in his life

A man who loved his work

His home

His craft

Yet no one listened

No one cared

No one accept his child and now the human contestants of this arena

The two form a deep friendship

Something formed through similar hardships

A kinship made through the unspoken words of “I get it” and “your not alone”

It makes you happy your father found a friend in the one you hold dearest to your heart

As does Qin who becomes more sympathetic as to why Hephaestus was so happy for you finding love in the first place

A marriage that was unhappy from the start

Trying to make the best of it anyways

Continued sorrow

Heartbreak

Betrayal from a brother

Wanting some type of love from anyone

Qin swears to himself if he’d ever encounter those who had made this man’s life hell he’d put them through the same

No one gets away with hurting someone important to the Emperor

Especially not family

“Treat them right and don’t break their heart boy. That’s all I ask of you.”

“You don’t need to say it twice. You have my word as Emperor”

“Heh, I like you. How about we talk business later, I’d hate to see you break that second requirement due to this whole fiasco”

The 7th round steadily approaches much to your anxiety

It’s noticeable to him how scared you are for him

The other can’t tell but he’s been around you enough to know your quirks

The slight tapping of your finger

Small bursts of violet sparks

The way your eyes seem more cloudy

He does his best to show you not to worry

That he’s strong enough to up against whoever is pitted against him

He spars with Kojiro and even is able to get Buddha to give some extra pointers to ease your mind

It doesn’t do much though

He can’t exactly blame you, once before you saw him die peacefully

But now there’s a chance you’ll see it again in a violent manner

He could already imagine how hard that first death was for you

The second would be devastating

Seeing those tear stained eyes was enough for him to promise himself he’d win no matter the Cost

He’d discard an arm or leg if he had to

But he had to win for you

For humanity that you love with a whole heart

This world was worth protecting

With a sigh he reclines back in the red cushioned throne

Soon he’d be out in that arena

Life or death

This VIP section was nice except for the nosey people already there

Though he wondered where you were, you said you’d meet him here?

Maybe you got lost..,he remembers the time you ended up in a different castle by accident

The memory makes him smile

Even as he’s flipping the man who grabbed him into the ground like he’s nothing

These guys need to humble themselves

Their in the presence of an emperor

The king of kings

Despite saying this aloud the big guy doesn’t get the picture

He blabbers on about being a god before Qin once again flips the man onto the stone ground

The other man though seems amused and offers a drink

One that he kindly accepts as he is about to question if the messenger of the gods can find you-

Turns out this “wasn’t” his room

Something of which you gently tell him with a laugh

Brunhilde looked less amused as you did

As did Ares

But Hermes found it seemingly hilarious

Especially since everyone else in the room can’t help but deadpan as he pulls you into the seat with him

Holding you close as you sigh with a small grin and accept his affection

It is a small moment of comfort

One that both of you know wont last forever

Or wont be guaranteed in the future

Despite that he is confident as ever

Something that makes you want to simultaneously bash your head into a wall about and smile at his unwavering spirit

The emperor’s after him roll out a carpet for him to walk down

But before that he pulls you aside

“Don’t die on me again….” The words are choked up in your throat but your able to get them out after a moment “please Qin, I love you too much to loose you again”

“Have some faith in me. I’m an emperor, king of kings, and you’re my divine being. You have me your blessing of love, that enough will get me through this” the tone in which he says this is both confident and gentle. He kneels down, pressing his lip’s against your knuckles. It leaves the onlooking pair of gods and Valkyrie’s agape.

He gets up, standing on the balcony to jump down towards his carpeted walkway. But just before he can you pull him down and press a passionate kiss against his lips. The crowd goes wild in both confusion and shock. “Call this an extra blessing” at that comment he smiles.

You turn to leave the god area with the two Valkyrie sisters, but not before turning to the two gods. “Sorry for the trouble. I can definitely say though that I won’t be pulling something like that for my round” as you say this you look over your shoulder, surveying their reactions. Ares is shock, Hermes like before is amusement and curiosity. You were a contestant, how interesting.

The fight is long and arduous

Armour enchanted and enchanted by both Hephaestus and his Völunder

Hephaestus couldn’t do too much in case of suspicion but he did make it a bit more durable and light

He’s bloodied and bruised

An arm was lost

But despite it all he won

He won for humanity

Won for you

And somehow in the process won the respect of the god he was faced against

Hades, king of the underworld

The only other man he’d call a king, for he in this fight had truly showed he earned that title

Both went into this battle for someone

But he prevailed in the end cause you were still there to fight for

This wasn’t a fight for revenge like Hades gad set out to do

His fight was to sustain you and the rest of the world

To keep you safe and happy

Preserve the world you loved despite its flaws

Qin Shi Haung for a portion of his life had nothing

But now that he had the love of someone he would do his best to keep it intact

To forever keep a smile on your face to keep his sun in the sky

Despite how much he’s in pain from both his injuries and his Mirror Touch Synesthesia he gives his respect to Hades

His foe

His equal as a king

His friend

Alvitr is screaming in his mind to get to the medbay already but he waits a moment as the dust settles

Both sides after cheering from humans and shock from gods quiets down

Alvitr appears at his side just as injured as he is

She almost tumbles to the ground

Before he can catch her someone jumps out from the stands beside Chun Yan and her son

A kasa hat with a veil trailing behind it fluttering in the wind as the warrior wearing it rushes towards the two

It happens within a split second but your at their sides

Grabbing the two inured winners

“Careful, you won and can’t just go dying on me after all that”

He chuckles at that, leaning into your touch as Alvitr gives a small tired thanks

You smile, your own thank you falling from your lips for protecting him

For making sure he got out of this alive

“Don’t attribute that to me. The entire time this prideful king had someone on his mind” she says this in a cheeky tone as you carry them both back to the medbay

A certain pep in your step

The crowd of both sides watches on with curiosity

In the medbay as they both are put into pods you await by their sides

Watching patiently

A hand against the glass encasing him

Your dad was already at work on a prosthetic for both of them

Something you were grateful for

You think back to the fight

It leaves…and unknown taste in your mouth that’s bitter and sweet

Qin had won

But in the process Hades was dead

You didn’t know your “family” well except for the snippets your father told you

Almost all were bad

All used him for their own goals or belittled him for his appearance

But from what you removed Hades was one who was seemingly neutral

Perhaps even somewhat kind to your father

Thanking him for his work done

Glaring at opposers who insulted him

In that sense he earned your respect

But with the battle you saw more if his character

Poseidon you couldn’t care less about but with Hades you felt more conflicted

Sighing you lean back resting yourself against the pod

There’s silence and then you hear something

Looking down you see his eyes cracked slightly open

His now only remaining hand pressing against the glass just like your own

His eyes close once more and you keep your hand atop his own

A pane of glass separating the two of you

Despite not needing sleep you close your eyes

Resting against the glass

Eventually you feel something draped over your shoulders

Turning your head you see Chun Yun and her son

Both with worried expressions but also happiness

His hand pressed against the glass trying to reach to yours is prof enough he’s still fighting

Fighting for you

And your waiting here for him

The woman who became his mother figure and her son pull up seats near your own

You feel a smile cross your face

“I’d wait till the end of time for you to wake up. Take as long as you need, I’ll be there when you wake”

[crookedkryptonitebeliever]

I can imagine Darling trying to initiate something sexual with Yves, but due to their inexperience, they fuck up and offend Yves. Yves would have that serious talk with Darling and they would be filled with so much guilt and embarrassment from the rejection and scolding. They apologize and vow that this will never happen again, and begin to over correct themselves, never having their hands make contact with Yves ever again. The only time the two would touch is if Yves is the one initiating it. Even then, Darling's hands are glued to their side, not wanting to make another mistake.

Do not make things sexual with Yves.

Yves knows you better than anyone. Even yourself. If he knows that you tend to beat yourself up repeatedly after being scolded, no matter how mild, he will take on a much more gentle approach.

Immediately after telling you off, receiving a satisfactory apology, and knowing that you're in a very vulnerable state, full of debilitating shame, Yves will soothe the pain by reverting back to being flirty and sensual in nature. Praising how you're such a sweet and good person for recognizing your transgressions and having a strong will to change for him. Intent is also very important, he will make sure you know he deeply appreciates that you find him extremely attractive, making lewd comments and/or touching him inappropriately is just not the way to express it.

He will take you in his arms, and let your hands touch him as long as it doesn't stray too near to his no-no territories. Yves wants you to know that he still yearns and craves for your skinship, he is not at all disgusted at you. He still wants you fully, just not in a way that degrades him.

The talk will be long. It will go to many different places relating to your views on sexuality, consent, and decorum. There will be guilt, there will be embarrassment, yes. But Yves is someone who likes to be clear, and direct and leaves no room for misunderstanding. He will firmly and lovingly lay out his expectations in the future, telling you what is okay and what is not for him. You are free to ask him any hypotheticals and he will answer it precisely without sparing any details.

You are free to tell Yves what you're expecting of him too even if he already knew what you thought of him. If you think that he led you on with his teasing, he will remind you that the nature of his flirting is nowhere as lewd, raunchy, or filthy as you thought it was. Looking back, it is true. It may be sensual, suggestive, exciting, and heart-fluttering, but it was never explicitly, horrendously sexual. What you said or tried to do completely came out of left field. Going through this route will leave you red-faced.

You will have to face some difficult emotions and heaps of awkwardness, you will cringe at yourself and at Yves. But, he will guide you through it all. He will teach you patiently how to navigate through your feelings and let go of any anger or hatred that you hold against yourself for doing something wrong. You will learn that there is nothing to be afraid of when having a conversation about heavy topics like these Most importantly, you will learn how to forgive yourself and move on.

You might think the 'magic' is gone after this chat. Perhaps you may think affection from you or he feels... icky and strange. But, it isn't. You would surprisingly enjoy it much more than before, now knowing what to do. It will be much more comfortable, knowing his boundaries and knowing yours.

Yves isn't cruel. He wouldn't let you marinade in your anguish for offending the man you care about, his goal wasn't to punish or hurt, it was to teach a lesson and rectify unacceptable behavior. He would only do so if you're hostile and defensive, refusing to accept what you did was depraved and blaming Yves for being too sensitive instead.

This lengthy, laborious conversation will occur regardless of your personality type. Because, while Yves may be the closest thing to a mind reader, you are not. But that is quite alright, he isn't afraid to feel, and he isn't afraid of awkwardness.

He loves you and only wishes to see you happy, thriving, and unburdened.