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chuluoyi · 10 months

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MARRIED ON PURPOSE

- gojo satoru x reader

"for one, i can show you incredible things!" jujutsu, madness, heaven, sin. the strongest sorcerer is sure to show you all of that during the whole duration of your six-month marriage contract.

genre/warnings: marriage of convenience, enemies to lovers, crack, fluff, slight satosugu angst/comfort, kamo!reader, very suggestive. gojo clan is portrayed as very traditional, meanwhile kamo clan is rather unpleasant here

note: the unholy amount of times i've edited this story *sigh* but okay i must drop it here or else i'm going to keep editing it and losing my mind. despite my misgivings and all, i really had fun writing this and i hope you enjoy it! wc. 5k !

a part of 1K MILESTONE EVENT

general masterlist

Some would say... marrying Gojo Satoru would be living the dream.

“Don't look that sour now, wife.”

“…sigh.”

A playful nudge at your side, a lighthearted voice— “You're going to make them question our veeery happy marriage, you know… We don't want that now, do we?”

But to you, it was more like nightmare dressed in a daydream.

It was peak comedy because why would you put marrying Gojo Satoru in your life plans? He was incorrigible, a child trapped in a man's body, and there was also the very fact that you hate him. His only redeeming trait was being born in the esteemed Gojo clan, and now held the title of the strongest.

You know you must have accumulated karma, but out of everything else, why must you end up in this predicament?

Hailing from the great clans of jujutsu society, both of you know well that marriage is the essence to make the clan greater. And when it involves the big three clans, its importance amplifies even further.

It was just that you two were too rebellious to follow it through, for one reason or another. Everyone knows Gojo Satoru was faithless to any woman, and you were not exactly thrilled with the idea of marriage as a whole.

He was the one who came to you, proposing this insane idea of a temporary marriage.

"Look at it this way," Satoru said with a wry grin, contrasting your puzzled frown on that fateful afternoon. "It's either me or Zen'in Naoya for you, isn't it? It's so clear which is the better man."

That was what grated you the most. You would be damned if you married the misogynist.

"What do you get from this arrangement, really?" you questioned begrudgingly.

His name would give you security, stop the harassment from your clan, and maybe even a better life, but you didn't quite get what he'd get from the offer he willingly extended to you.

Satoru flippantly shrugged. "Nah, you are not exactly my type, but you're still far better than the boring puppet my family have considered to be my wife."

"Who?"

"Don't remember her name. All she goes on about is that she'll be the good wife and mother of my child. Ew."

Seven hells. You scowled. Gojo Satoru and his penchant for chasing the thrill. Boring women would kill him before an actual curse would.

"And hey, for one," he shot you a smirk, visibly smug. "I can show you incredible things!"

"That's not the point! Gojo, do you even realize—" your voice rose, pulsating with righteous fury, "—how serious all of this is? My life, your life! We're going to be stuck—together!"

"Six months," he blurted, tilting his head slightly. His sunglasses slipped down just enough for you to catch a glimpse of his sparkling eyes. "It's enough time to work through our shits, and by then if you have enough, we're through."

At that time, it seemed feasible. Both of you tolerating each other to avoid a much worse match.

. . .

BACK TO PRESENT—barely a week ever since you were paraded around as his wife, now you and Satoru were stiffly poised in the studio in your formal garbs, capturing your official wedding photos.

At that time, it seemed feasible, but now, it felt like a chore, as you realized that conversing with him either spiked your blood pressure so much that you wouldn't even be surprised if you ended up with hypertension or completely sapped your energy that you were left exhausted.

"Come on, show a smiiile," Satoru said in a sing-song voice, gesturing toward the camera as it flashed for the pictures. You were beyond appalled, shooting a glare in his direction.

"I am smiling, Gojo."

"Liar. You're pouting, wifey~"

Sigh… this really is going to be one hella of a ride, huh?

MONTH ONE, and you found out that Gojo Satoru is apparently as mad as people made him out to be.

"You've got to be kidding me!" you fumed, right after he hauled you into one of the rooms in his grand, traditional estate. Your glare pierced through him, a blood vessel ready to burst. "We never agreed on ‘consummating’ the marriage!"

You wrote him a goddamn contract. And the three conditions of this chaotic marriage are: one, it would only last six months; two, no personal feelings involved; and three, nothing borderline disturbing.

And this, you concluded, was the height of what could be called as disturbing.

"We will not," Satoru replied with a hint of disdain, grimacing, as if the notion didn't sit well with him either. The audacity! "We're just going to make it as if we are—"

"And why?! Why should I do that?!"

"Why else? Because my old fart believes that we indeed haven't done so."

"Then it's your fault? For failing to convince him? Why turn it into my problem!"

"Because, dear wife," he drawled, his tone taunting on the final note. "Now we're on the same page, in case you have forgotten."

Great clans and their hollow expectations spare no one, not even Gojo Satoru. They place importance in the most banal things, such as the continuity of sacred bloodlines and such.

The only alternative wasn't appealing either. Should you be found out that you married only to divorce... sigh, you didn't even want to know how big of a scandal it would be. One thing was certain: your clan would chop you to shreds.

You really had no choice, huh?

"Five minutes," you warned, glaring at him. "Make it loud. Make it so that no one wouldn't question this anymore."

Oh and sure he would. As Satoru pulled that shit-eating grin, you were in for another ride. You waited out until several maids were nearby, left the wooden door ajar, and began the show—

His hands wrapped around your waist—the feeling was peculiar, but you ignored it—and you let him pull you near that open door. He snuggled his face on your neck—his hair tickling you in the process, but you ignored that peculiarity again—as he started making suggestive noises. "Mm, you're so pretty, darling."

You could hear those maids gasp in surprise. And to add the flavor, you faked a moan.

This is... kinda fun? A twisted part of you suddenly found satisfaction in fooling the maids. A smile tugged at your lips as you shoved him away, and Satoru eyed you in surprise and irritation.

"Husband, you're... insatiable," you worded languidly, and he immediately caught on your act, grinning. "Anyone can walk by, you know."

"Oh? But that's the point." Satoru's bright blue eyes twinkled with utter mischief, and even you couldn't deny the exhilarating rush. "I want them to know."

And suddenly you got this very brilliant idea. You swiftly moved past him and sent the books and trinkets on his desk flying to the floor, causing questionable noises.

"Oh my!" a girlish voice exclaimed.

"The master! And the lady!"

Satoru shook his head, thoroughly entertained. And you rolled your eyes. Those nosy maids would finally have enough now, and this charade would end—

"What's happening here?"

The old fart. Both you and Satoru grunted in unison. You really thought you would leave it up to the maids to spread the word, but then you were taken by surprise when he wrapped his hands around you and flung the door open, slamming you against it—and damn it hurt!—offering everyone a front-row seat to your charade.

The maids squealed. His grandfather raised a righteous, demanding eyebrow. You wanted to scream.

"Hey, gramps," he greeted jovially, breathless, his grip on you tightening and you felt heat radiating from his palm. "Ah, sorry, opened it by accident—the wife here is feisty, you see."

Your veins felt ready to burst. Was this a part of his plan all along? How would you show your face before your grandfather-in-law now that he had seen this... atrocity?!

"So, yeah, we'll resume our business!" Satoru, the idiot, said it as if it was the most normal thing in the world. "See ya!"

With that the door slammed shut, but oh no, it was not the end.

"Mmmph!?" you protested, unintentionally loud and eyes widening in alarm when Satoru muffled your mouth with his hand.

The rotten bastard! You found it nearly impossible to breathe, shooting daggers at him. "Mmmrgh! Mmmrrgh!"

"Oh... so that boy really does it huh," you heard the elder mutter in thoughtful manner from outside—and you were in disbelief at how trusting he was—before rounding the stunned maids and barked, "What are all you doing here? Go!"

You nearly sagged with relief when Satoru loosened his grip slightly, allowing you to breathe, as his meddlesome grandpa finally stalked away. Done. This horrible act was over! But wait, why did he still had his hand on your mouth?

"That went splendidly!" he snickered, appearing rather pleased with what had unfolded. "Now, if only we work together like this more often—"

This is… my life now, you lamented the reality. The feeling of his calloused hand on you made you feel things, honestly speaking, but another emotion—and impulse—currently overpowered that.

Seething with resentment, you fiercely chomped down on his hand hard, causing him to swear and pull his hand out of you.

"You—you devil! You bit me!"

"Serves you right!"

Okay, he was bad. He was insufferable. But to be frank, sometimes it wasn't all chaos.

And what's more, by MONTH TWO, you realized that being married to Gojo Satoru also comes with several perks.

"Miss, please, you're trespassing—"

You looked at the police with the haughtiest look you could muster, unamused. "Don't you know who I am?"

"No, but it shouldn't—"

"I'm that man's wife," you declared regally, motioning towards a certain tall shuttlecock a few meters away. "Is that not clear enough for you?"

For one, no one can look down on you anymore, because should they try, you have the power to raise your chin high and declare yourself as the wife of the infamous sorcerer. The very moment you did, that nosy police stopped yapping, and let you through.

The cursed boy, Yuta and his classmate had just been trapped inside a barrier a curse user pulled down, and you were assigned to look into this case by the headquarters. As much as it boggled you—because certainly, the strongest sorcerer was enough to investigate this—you still had to do your job.

“What is this?” you asked Satoru, who was observing something far beyond what your measly ordinary eyes could see. “What happened here?”

He turned to you, all with bandaged eyes. “Hmm? Oh, you’re here too?”

“Don't act surprised. Answer my question, Gojo.”

"You’re too uptight, wifey," Satoru's lips curved upwards playfully. He had taken to addressing you with pet names as of late, if anything, only to get a rise out of you. "Isn't it the time for you to start calling me by my given name?"

You let out a weary exhale, exasperated. "I'm serious, did you find anything? Who is behind this?"

"Nah, nothing for you to worry about," Satoru waved his hand dismissively, grinning. "More importantly! Let's head back and have dinner! My treat!"

You weren't that oblivious. You noticed things too.

"What do you want tonight? Sukiyaki? Sushi?" he hummed nonchalantly. "Or shabu-shabu?"

You gave him the stink eye. "Is that all you think about? Food?"

"As a responsible husband, it's my duty to feed my wife, no?"

"News flash: temporary wife."

"But still my wife, regardless. I overheard you earlier. Being Mrs. Gojo is convenient, yeah?"

You ignored how a part of your jolted at the emphasis he placed on that word, grunting. "Nah, it's meh."

Call it a feeling or hypothesis. It was similar to how he treated his students. He always said the dumbest things, but it actually served to make them feel at ease.

Then it occurred to you, could this be actually his attempt to change the subject?

"You can't cheat your way out of this." You shot him a pointed look. "You know something. Tell me."

"Hmmm? And what would I get in return?"

"Don't make this difficult. I'm on this assignment too!"

"Nah, if you call me by my name, I might consider it."

Hah. You should really read a parenting book one of these days. Taking on your husband was more or less the same as facing a kid.

"Satoru," you tested, the name rolling out of your lips far easier than you thought. Somehow, using his given name felt like some sort of a leap of faith.

He stopped right in his tracks, turning to you. His glossy lips quirked into a meaningful smile, and you felt funny.

"Wasn't that difficult, was it?" he winked, and you covered the strange heat creeping onto your face by rolling your eyes and huffed.

Needless to say, he still didn't tell you even a clue. You finally gave up, thinking that if he insisted on not disclosing it, then so be it. You trusted him on this, even as he turned your help away, and you hated admitting it, because, well…

You’d trust him with your life. He knows how to handle this better than anyone.

Being a a woman in Kamo clan is, in fact, not any better than in Zen'in—you're regarded more as a commodity than a human being.

"When will you bear the child of the bearer of Six Eyes?" in your father's eyes, you were but a tool to tie the Gojo at his hip, and your worth probably wasn't even twice of Noritoshi's. You had known he would ask this when he summoned you to Kamo ancestral home, and you weren't that naive—you had asked Satoru to join you too. But your father had insisted him to stay at the foyer, while he dragged you into his chamber.

Just because you had seen it coming didn’t mean you liked it. "Is that all? Do you really make me come here just to ask me that?"

And what came next was like a crack of thunder.

"How insolent!"

You shuddered, hating how his voice still had control over you. You wanted to stay deviant, but you couldn't keep yourself from shaking. You thought you would have to endure this shit just like you did before, until—

"Now, now... That's my wife you're talking to. I'd watch your words, if I were you."

You had never whipped your head so fast.

There stood Gojo Satoru, your husband, in all his glory. He was smiling but it was clear that he was displeased, evident from his cutting remark, and most notably, how he had unveiled his striking cerulean eyes for all to see. Truth to be told, you didn't expect him to barge in here at all.

"Gojo-sama," your father bowed his head, displaying utter respect towards him, contrasting the blatant disrespect he showed towards you just now. Satoru paid him no heed, as took big strides towards you and seized your arm, prompting you to rise to your feet.

"What is this? Why are you yelling at her?" His voice lacked its usual hint of amusement or teasing, sending a chill down your spine.

"Gojo-sama, I apologize for my tone towards my daughter earlier. I was just trying to educate—"

“My wife. She is my wife now, and it would do you better to remember that,” Satoru asserted firmly, putting emphasis in the way he addressed you, his gaze hardening. "She is an adult. There's nothing left for you to educate her." Pausing, he added, "And the way I saw it, you were just unnecessarily rude."

"Gojo-sama, there were just certain things in our clan that—"

"Please, don't call on us again," Satoru interjected decisively with a light yet firm voice. You could swear your heart was somersaulting at the sight of him staring down your natural enemy. "I'm sure you're aware, but your daughter bears my name now, and she will get the respect she is due. I will have a word with anyone who fails to treat her accordingly."

Somehow or another, Satoru whisked you away from that hellhole, your hand tightly clasped in his. Your relieved sigh didn't go unnoticed by him, as he looked back to you.

"Have you gone soft?" he teased, eyeing you with a playful snort. "Did you forget who your husband is? You've got nothing to fear. Not even him."

"Thank you," you murmured. Your heart was still pounding and your mind blanked, rendering you unable to engage in your usual banters.

His clear blue eyes widened a touch, blinking at your display of vulnerability, Then, he wore the most innocent expression, even sporting a silly smirk—the hardness from earlier gone. "I was really cool, huh? Totally made you swoon I bet."

And in MONTH THREE, you realized, as he laced his fingers with yours, as his laughter filled the air, as calmness swelled on your chest, and as you loudly snorted at his remark, that—

You felt warm, so warm, in fact, and maybe—

"Pfft, you wish."

—maybe... being with him isn't so bad after all.

MONTH FOUR, and you finally found out that it was Geto Suguru.

Everyone knew that your husband and the criminal used to be the best of friends. You saw them during your high school days, and heck, you used to think that Geto was the better man.

You could only imagine what he must feel.

. . .

When he got back to your shared house after the whole ordeal—after he ended his best friend with his own hands, Satoru honestly didn't expect that you would be waiting for him.

"You okay?" you asked him, brows furrowed in concern. It was probably one of the very few times you had displayed emotions other than contempt towards him.

It felt strange because he was used to your jabs, and he was not sure what sort of expression he should pull now, because truthfully, now he felt empty. Blank. All he comprehended was that he had killed Suguru, that he was gone, and that was something he must do.

It would be just like any other day if hadn't just committed a murder. On someone he held dear.

"Of course, who do you think I am?" Satoru swiftly replied, sounding smug—or at least tried to. "I'm the strongest. I’m unscat—"

"No, not that." You frowned, meeting his gaze squarely. "After everything."

Satoru struggled to choose how he should react, partly because most of his energy had gone after walking Yuta back and reassuring him earlier, and by default, the two of you should be hellbent on hating each other and wishing for this contract to end soon.

"Aww, are you worried about me?" he quipped with a touch of sarcasm just because he had to, to show you that it wasn't enough to ruffle him.

Because he is still the strongest, even when alone. Especially when he is alone.

You let out a sigh, looking away. "Can't I?"

"Whoa, that's sweet of—"

"Don't fool yourself," you stated in straight-laced manner, meeting his gaze with a composed expression. "You're not okay. You might be Gojo Satoru, but no one will be after doing what you just did."

You might be Gojo Satoru, but no one will be after doing what you just did.

Despite himself, his smile fell, and his chest burns. What is this? Were you sympathizing with him?

Does that mean that you don't see him as the entity... that was the strongest?

Before now, Satoru remembered you as the most uncooperative Kyoto girl he had ever met. Your first meeting in high school sealed your fate as the two of you could hardly get along. You didn't mince words, you didn't take shit from anyone else—heck, sometimes when he thought of you, what came up to mind was an impenetrable diamond.

Which was why he chose you. You were someone he could trust. You were pretty in the eyes and certainly wouldn't bore him either. His reasons were purely based on logic. And after four months with you, Satoru came to a conclusion that you indeed fulfilled all his expectations, if not more.

And he felt comfortable, or dare he say, secure even. He felt like he had gained a friend, who could see past his bravado and wouldn't judge him for it.

"You're..." you sighed, casting a sympathetic glance at him, your forehead slightly creased. At that moment, Satoru couldn't help but think you were incredibly endearing, fretting over him. "...an idiot."

"Heh." I really am, aren't I?

"I never knew him well..." you chose your words carefully, hesitant. "Did you try to convince him, before this?"

He barked a bitter laugh. "I did, we even made a scene in front of freaking KFC," he remarked with a scoff. "He didn't listen to me, until the very end."

You wanted to tell him “You have done everything you could” but the words faltered on your tongue. You couldn't bring yourself to say it when you saw the faint quiver of his lips, the slump of his shoulders—the very sight of a boy grieving the loss of his friend.

Your heart pricked too, somehow, seeing that expression on him. And you once again realized that your silly, exalted husband was just as human as anyone else who made him think he wasn’t.

"And you know what he said in the end?" Satoru's tone was flippant, as if asking the most normal thing around, but carried a trace of grief, evident in the slight drop in his tone if you squinted. "He said he didn't regret it, not even a bit."

"I'm sorry," was all you could manage.

Satoru's smile was lopsided. Now that he had finally accepted it, something inside him finally bleeds, and it freaking hurts. The pain gripped his chest like a swirling inferno.

But then, you boldly clasped his hand in yours, gently tracing soothing circles on its back.

"What?" he peered at you, feeling a ghost of a smile forming.

"Consider this emotional support."

And he chuckled softly. Despite the lingering ache, despite the gloom he was sure he would carry for the rest of his life, he felt the pain was more bearable with you by his side, somewhat.

How?

You blamed it on the alcohol, because it was MONTH FIVE and you were kissing Gojo Satoru, daringly.

"We shouldn't be doing this," you rasped between kisses, breathless, as your own sinful hands plucked the buttons off his shirt. The intoxication might have played a part, but the intense heat coursing through you made it hard to think straight.

Satoru crashed his lips against yours again, consumed by blind lust. "Yeah, we shouldn't," he replied in a rush. His breath was hot as he trailed his lips down your jaw and neck next, savoring the softness of your skin.

You two had attended a banquet for the elite, and you were unbelievably beautiful. Standing by his side as his wife, you drew admiring glances, with everyone marveling at what a remarkable couple you made. The Gojo heir who was born with the legendary Limitless and the Kamo heiress, as lovely as her clan's name was powerful.

His deft hands roamed the curves of your body, exploring every inch of you. The warmth of his hands tickled something inside you as you closed your eyes to sink into this very moment. Next you knew, his bare body was against yours and you were stripped out of your evening dress.

Lust flickered in his honored eyes, as he took in the sight of you in your undergarments.

"You're really pretty, you know," he whispered. The intensity with which his eyes scanned your form made you nearly squirm. "Shame we don't always get along."

"You're one to talk," you retorted, a hint of exasperation in your tone, as you willed all other thoughts away. Thoughts like what comes after this. Thoughts like—

Is it heaven or sin, if you feel both at once?

His thumb tenderly caressed your plush lips, a hint of a smirk on his beautiful face.

He has long been thinking about your body. He was but a man, after all. He just didn't expect that you wanted this too.

There was always this tension, only this time, neither of you could hold it back anymore. Perhaps it was impulse—hell, most certainly it is, but there was another thing, something more that even Gojo Satoru still didn't dare to say out loud.

"Eager, are we?" he taunted when you leaned in, yearning for the touch of his lips on yours again.

You huffed. “Shut up and kiss me.”

A rush of heat flooded your cheeks at the slip of those words. You were about to rectify it, taken aback by your own boldness, but then he drew you close, silencing any further protest with a gentle hush—

"Too late, sweetheart," his husky voice entered your ears, lips curling into the most wicked smile, and you were in a trance. And Satoru was once again convinced, that choosing you as his wife was the rightest thing there was.

If the two of you went with this, then there would be consequences. Things would become more complicated, harder to sort out.

But, he decided, as he captured your lips in another heated kiss, everything else can wait.

MONTH SIX, and you were dreading the day of your divorce.

You brought this upon yourself. Whenever you reminisced about that night, you wanted to smack yourself in the face and bang your head against the nearest wall.

This marriage has a time limit. And you were doing it out of convenience in the first place.

You weren't supposed to… goddammit—fall in love with him.

But what's done is done, there is no going back in time. Awkward exchanges and lingering stares had been gnawing at your insides these days, and you were sure Satoru too must have noticed them too. You two used to be more relaxed with each other, and he'd even flirt with you, but weeks ever since that night of drunken passion, you almost reverted back to your high school personas—ignoring each other.

This was tough. You didn't like this. And more than that, you were faced with a more pressuring matter...

Gojo Satoru, with everything he possessed, could have had any woman he wanted. This arrangement with you was temporary in the first place, soon he would forget you and flit to the next woman.

The thought made your heart ache, because you had involuntarily gave your heart away to him. Siiigh… What a predicament you put yourself into, huh?

With just a month left together, maybe you should just make the best of it.

. . .

If you thought that things were any better with Satoru, then you were sorely wrong because he too, was debating with himself often nowadays.

Days spent with you were fun and fulfilling. You irked expression somehow had made its mark in his heart. You were pretty, fit to be by his side publicly and preferably, behind the closed doors. With you, he didn't feel the need to carry this facade of being strong—he could be a clown tripping over his own trap and you would amuse him with your deadpan expression.

And ever since that night, he was constantly reminded by how soft your skin was against his. It almost drove him crazy now that he was deprived of it.

How was it the last month already? He wasn't ready to let you go yet.

When he got back home later after his class ended and found you in the dinner table setting the food, all he could muster was, "Hey. Haven't eaten?"

You whirled around to face him in surprise. "Oh... you're back. Just about to. Want to join me?"

Of course he would. And yet as the two of you sat down, it was so painfully awkward Satoru felt like he was dying inside.

Why couldn't he pull off a smart line or two? Where did his suaveness go? He was smoother than this, surely, with his colorful history. One night of passion was supposed to enhance the relationship, not to derail it. What happened to you both?

The salt was near his side when you reached to grab it and bumped into his hand. "Uh-oh."

Turning towards you, he found your spooked expression and your adorable eyes widening in surprise. "S-sorry..."

It was just freaking salt! Salt! Why on earth were you apologizing?!

Enough, he thought. This utter madness of being jumpy with each other. He'd start from his side.

Does he want you to keep being his wife even after all this ends? Yes.

Why? All reasons already listed above.

Does this mean he likes you? Apparently and supposedly, yes. Because if it isn't then he doesn't know what this funny feeling driving him mad is.

With that sorted out, then he only had one more thing to confirm. He put down his spoon and crossed his arms together. "Tell me the truth. Do you like living with me?"

His question obviously took you by surprise. "Huh? What brought this on?"

"Just give me an answer."

"You're so pushy," you grumbled, lips pursed, and he felt like you were finally back to your usual dynamics somewhat. Good.

"Sooo, the verdict? Do you enjoy being with me or not?"

Because to him, it was a resounding yes and more.

Ignoring the warmth that surged to your cheeks, you rolled your eyes. "Surprisingly, not bad, yeah," you admitted, mustering the courage to meet his gaze. "You're annoying, an idiot, a bit crazy—"

"Hey!"

"—but eventually you're still... manageable," you added, feeling your face truly start to sizzle. But covered it up by looking down and playing with your fingers as you still had more to go on. "What I want to say is... I'm glad that I agreed to this—with you—because I can’t imagine it with anyone else."

An unfamiliar tingling emotion rushed to his chest as his face too started to heat up, letting your words sink in. Is he blushing? Oh God. He sure is. And so did he feel hella giddy.

Then it’s sealed.

Suddenly he procured a piece of paper from his work uniform and showed it to you. You first saw his lazily scrawled signature before it dawned on you.

The contract. You almost forgot that you made him sign that looming piece of paper. You were almost dismayed, thinking that he would end this right then and there, but then—

“Well, then… I suppose we no longer need this.”

Riiip~

Your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets when Gojo Satoru tore out your contract right in front of your face, the most brilliant of his devilish grin adorned his handsome face, as he took off his blindfold to see you far clearly than ever. Heavens, you are cute, he thought.

“Soooo~ seems like you’re stuck with me from now on!”

You gaped, awestruck at the blatant meaning of it all, feeling how your heartbeat started to pick up the pace, when he pulled the rag out of your feet once more by tilting his head to the side, looking at you with a winning smile.

“Let’s start over! What did they say again? Ah, yeah. Here’s to the first day of our lives!”

6K notes · View notes

remi-thirsts · 6 months

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𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐂𝐓 !

pairing: gojo, geto, nanami, choso, and toji x fem!reader (separate) summary: when you catch them with a suggestive piece of clothing from your wardrobe... content: kinda suggestive, established relationships, toji has no shame at all, allusions to sexual themes, jerking off, pillow humping(?), roommates to lovers (for geto's) pet names, cursing. lmk if I missed anything. wc: 2.5k

♡ 𝐒. 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎

The house was awfully quiet when you arrived home with your shopping bags in hand. "Satoru?" You call out setting all of your stuff down. Nothing. No over dramatic gasps, no 'babyyyyyy you're back!!!!!!" Absolutely nothing.

Satoru hadn't told you he was going anywhere, had he? Sometimes the man talks so much that you drown out his voice, so you can focus on whatever you need to get done. Which means you could have missed something.

Or maybe he's asleep? Only, Satoru doesn't nap if it isn't with you. So... where could he be?

Before going deeper into your home, you remove your shoes and place them neatly on the wobbly shoe rack he built. He insisted he could build anything, when he'd never even picked up a screwdriver in his life. That's kind of what happens when you belong to a wealthy family, but you didn't want to hurt his pride, so you let him build it.

You tread quietly toward your bedroom in hopes of finding him there. The door is cracked open suspiciously, with caution you slowly push the door open, "Satoru are you- uhhh what are you doing?"

The man in question tenses up when he hears your voice. As if you hadn't seen him he hides your lace panties behind his back.

"I was uh," He does that little coughing thing to make him look less suspicious, but if anything it makes him even more suspicious .

"You were 'uh' what?" Satoru thinks you look like a mother scolding a child the way you stand with your hands on your hips.

"I- I was hah- are you really gonna make me say it, baby?" He looks so red, cute.

"Yeah, go ahead and tell me what you were doing snooping through my underwear drawer." He sighs, but it's soon replaced with a sneaky smile.

"Ineedednewjerkmaterial." He says all jumbled up and quietly.

"Speak up, 'Toru." A whine leaves his lips. What a little baby he is.

"I needed something to help me when I think about you while jerking off." He spoke clearly this time, so you stop teasing him.

"Well you can't use those ones, 'cuz those are my favorites. Let me find you a different pair." He's in shock the whole time while watching you dig through the dresser.

"Really? You're just gonna give me a pair?"

"Why not? All you had to do was ask. I'm sure you'll buy me more anyway, knowing you." He snorts at that. It's true, Satoru likes to buy you anything and everything, sexy underwear is no exception.

♡ 𝐒. 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎

You've noticed that some of your favorite bras have gone missing since you asked your roommate, Geto, to do your laundry when you get too busy. It was a little suspicious when he seemed more than happy to do your laundry, but who were you to think anything of it when he was making one less chore for you?

Sweet, little, and innocent you, didn't suspect that Geto could be the one stealing your bras, though. He's too much of a gentleman, you think. He always opens doors for you, lets you use the bathroom before he does, and when you aren't up to make something, he'll cook you dinner.

He's a picture perfect roommate so there's no way he could be the one. You'll still ask him his opinion on the matter though, because your bras are not cheap, and if they keep going missing you'll have to buy more.

It's Wednesday, which is the day Geto usually washes your laundry for you. There is a very important job interview you have to leave for in ten minutes so you rush to get your hamper to him.

"Suguru- I um I need your help with something." Geto cannot help but stare you down. You're dressed in a black blazer with a white dress shirt underneath, and a pencil skirt that should reach around to your knees, but because you had bend down earlier to pick something up, the skirt hiked up just a little bit.

"What's up, princess?" The first time he had called you 'princess' you just about had a meltdown. He told you not to think too much of it, it was just a nickname.

The smell of his lotion fills your nostrils and his hair is still wet from his shower. There's also no shirt covering his perfectly built body.

"Well.. uh. Some of my bras are going missing. Can you keep an eye out to make sure there's no pervert at the laundromat stealing my bras?" A chuckle almost leaves his throat. You are too cute for him, of course you wouldn't blame him for the disappearance of your bras.

"Of course, I'll keep watch." Since you are running short on time you give him a tight lipped smile and quickly make a run out of your apartment.

"Cute." Slips from his lips, although no one hears it.

-------

There's hope. The interview had seemed to go great, the woman interviewing you said she'd give you a call letting you know if you got the job or not.

To celebrate the potential job, you bought yourself a pint of ice cream on the way home.

When you unlocked the door you didn't even announce yourself, assuming he might have been out or napping.

Before going to your room, you grab a spoon from the kitchen in order to eat the deliciously sweet treat you bought for yourself.

Your room was at the end of the hallway so you would have to pass Geto's room to get to yours. As you walk past his room, you almost drop your spoon in shock when you hear your supposed goody two shoes roommate moan out your name.

A series of grunts and 'fucks' leave his lips after the sudden call of your name. Curiosity killed the cat, huh? Well you don't care enough to let that stop you. It's rude not to knock but when Geto's calling out your name like that you think you have plenty of reason to barge in.

"Suguru what are you-" You should have just went to your room. The sight you walked in on had you dropping your ice cream and spoon on the floor. Geto is not as innocent as you thought he was, not when he's got your favorite laced bra attached to his pillow while he fucks it like they're your tits.

You would think he'd have the decency to stop when you caught him, but you catching him only made him speed up, his hips snapping at an extraordinary pace.

"Fuck, princess. Didn't want you to find out like this. Shit- need your tits so bad." He cums with no shame over the part of the pillow that would be the crevice of your breasts.

You can't even be mad at him, it's hot, but you'll still give him a peace of your mind.

"Suguru! That's- that's my bra! And you- gosh you are so perverted!!!! I never would have thought-" It takes him a minute, but when he comes down from his high, he apologizes sincerely for taking your bras.

And now that you know he wants you just as much as you want him, you indulge in his fantasies of fucking your pretty tits.

♡ 𝐊. 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈

He was going on a business trip for a few weeks and took a pair or two with him so he wouldn't have to bother you.

It doesn't even register that any are missing either, because he picks the pairs that you don't care too much about. They don't have to be sexy, Nanami loves anything you wear.

The only reason he does get caught is because he allows it to happen.

It's the second week, day two of his business trip and he decided to have a drink with his coworker, which he never does, but he misses you and a drink would help, even if only for a little while.

Nanami's toleration is high, so one drink turns into seven and he starts to feel the effects around the 8th one, which his coworker cuts him off after that.

"Dude, that's a lot, even for you." He says to Nanami, which he has to agree with, but his drunk mind doesn't want to.

"'s not nearly the 'mount I drink when 'm at home." His coworker chuckles and pays his tab along with Nanami's. (nanami will pay him back in the morning when he's in his right mind)

Said coworker drops him off at his hotel room and makes sure he gets in okay, he also reminds him to, "Call your wife, she might get worried if she doesn't hear from you."

He will. He'll call you as soon as this boner goes away... just thinking about you along with the alcohol in his body has him hard.

He stumbles through his suit case looking for the panties he'd packed in there. A smile graces his face when he finds them, they aren't cute, at all by any means.

He chose them not because they're sexy but because they're just normal, meaning you wear them a lot more often.

His steps are heavy as he about marches to the bed he's been sleeping in for the past two weeks. His conscious starts screaming at him not to jerk off with your panties but in the end, his dick wins.

-------

It's about 11:43 pm when you receive a face time call from your husband. He called you earlier, telling you about his day, so you find it a little unusual for him to be calling at this hour.

When you slide the accept button, you're met with your husband's dick and your panties covering his tip. For a second your eyes widen trying to register what exactly is going on, once you do, arousal pools in your gut.

"What's this honey?" He strokes his dick faster when he hears your voice.

"Keep talking, pretty." He's completely gone, you notice. His cheeks flushed a pretty pink and his eyes rolled back.

"I see you have my panties, what's that about?" A low groan leaves his throat but it's cut off by his words.

"Knew I would miss you. Packed them in my suitcase." The chances of him remembering any of this in the morning was low. Nanami usually has a hard time remembering anything from when he was drunk.

So, being the tease you are, you take a screenshot of him in this state.

"Fuck fuck fuck, gonna cum, please keep talking, Honey." You do as he wishes, saying random little things to help him reach his orgasm. It happens so fast and he's got you rubbing yourself through your shorts.

"You still with me baby?" You ask after he goes quiet for a few seconds. It doesn't take a genius to realize that he was knocked out.

You

[image attached] pervert 😊 sent 11:58 pm

My love 💖

I'm not going to drink anymore on this trip. sent 7:39 am

You

You should, it's hot when I get phone calls from my needy husband 😝 sent 7:40 am

♡ 𝐂. 𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐎

He can't hide it. In fact, he gets caught before he even makes it anywhere with them.

Last night was another night shift so you got home at the dawn hours of the night. A shower and a hot pocket later you were in bed. You made the assumption that Choso had gone out to see his brother, since you didn't see him anywhere in the apartment.

The sound of rustling around awakes you from your sleep.

"Cho? Is that you, baby?" It didn't sound concerned or anything, just a sleepy mumble.

"Oh uh- yes. Hi, good morning." His words are rushed like a kid who's trying not to get into trouble for something they did.

Your pretty eyes peek open to see Choso digging through your drawer for something.

"What are you looking for, babe?" He starts to stutter and try to come up with something you'll believe.

"You were picking out a shirt for me in my bra drawer?" His cheeks turn a bright red as he tries to explain himself.

"It's not what you think-! Okay it is what you think... but I haven't been seeing you much, since you always work late so I wanted to take one of your bras..." He's so cute. Gosh how could you not give him one.

"Okay, pick one out and I'll tell you if you can take it or not. You have to bring it back later though, it's not for you to keep.

He shakes his head furiously fast like a bobble head, and you can't help but laugh.

Choso is the most adorable thing to walk this earth.

♡ 𝐓. 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎

He doesn't even try to hide it, AT ALL. Today was the day of your once a week girls night with your friends. It was usually just some karaoke and dinner and on the occasion; shopping.

Instead of the usual your girls had taken you partying at a club. It was fun to dance around with your friends and scream song lyrics while being slightly intoxicated. Luckily, you aren't the designated driver.

When you had clumsily slipped your shoes off in your drunken stupor you realized that it was quiet in the house.

Too quiet, even for your husband. Toji's definitely up to something, because he'd usually be waiting on the couch for you to return home, and he's not.

"Oh baby~" It's slurred tremendously but you still get it out. Silence returns your call, so you take it upon yourself to find him.

The first and most obvious place to look is the bedroom; you'll start there and keep going. The door was closed but you could still hear him. Upon contrary belief Toji is loud during sex. He probably couldn't shut up to save his life.

His loud groans and moans start to cut off meaning he must be close. Is he watching a video he's recorded of you? Potentially.

Most would probably leave their boyfriend alone to finish so he doesn't get embarrassed, but this Toji Fushiguro we are talking about; he does not care.

You slowly pull the door open only to find out that your husband is not in fact watching a video, but getting off to your panties around his dick.

"Tojiiii, without me?" It doesn't even click that he's using your underwear at the moment.

"Fuck- I thought you weren't gonna be back until-" You must have shocked the shit out of him, because he stops touching himself to check his phone.

"Oh. You're home on time." He throws his phone down onto the bed and sighs.

"Waita' minute," It finally registers that those are your panties he's jerking off too.

"Toji, why do you have my panties? Pervert." And to nobody's surprise, Toji gets off to that kind of stuff. He likes when you call him out.

"Hah- shit. Don't ask such stupid questions... are you gonna come over here and help me finish?" A little smirk covers your face as you walk over to the bed.

©𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐈-𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐒 All works are written by me! Please do not copy, translate, or upload onto other sites thanks!

note: lmaoooo geto's got a little bit out of control

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kneelingshadowsalome · 11 months

Note

i love your writings so much! i need you to write about könig with maid!reader like i need air and water. könig who needs someone to take care of his house while he‘s gone, returning from his deployment only to find reader huddled up in a soft blanket on the couch, the house smelling of freshly baked cinnamon bread and lavender while she sleeps peacefully. he‘s so touch starved and the domesticity makes his heart and cock stir, he‘s never had any woman cook for him since his Oma passed away. poor reader is oblivious to her boss‘s infatuation until she‘s not, he‘s so awkward around her she thinks he just doesn‘t wanna be disturbed, but she doesn‘t know he uses her conditioner to stroke his cock every night, and now he can‘t help but get a raging boner everytime she passes by and he smells her hair :((((

Banner picture credit: @661ave

possession

noun

the state of having, owning, or controlling something.

Word count: 7 k Tags/warnings: 18+ only DARK FIC. Perv!König masturbating to thoughts of you + your stolen panties. Jealous & possessive behaviour. Dubious consent to having unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, cunnilingus, size kink, breeding kink, implied age difference. Some fluff if you squint. A/N: First of all, I'm sorry if you expected something sweet & fluffy anon… This thing just came out of me. Also, @gremlingottoosilly wrote the best thing EVER for this trope so please if you haven’t read it yet go give it a read (dark content there too though so be warned!)

He’s good at repairing things. He prides himself in that.

And he keeps his house neat and clean: that’s not a problem. His papers are in order, his office is in order. His home is in order too, and so is his whole life – love life included because there is none.

He always ensured he’s not dependent on anyone, he never seeked a mother from a partner. Just for self-reliance's sake, he knows how to do his own laundry and meal prep for weeks. He learned to fold his t-shirts with an orderliness fit for the military when he was ten years old, just so that no one would have the chance to say he needed a wife.

He always vacuums the entire house before deployment, does the dishes, takes out the trash. And he doesn’t hate house chores… but he doesn’t like them either. His house is a sad, lifeless, gloomy place to spend time in. It’s big enough for a family, it has everything he needs to host a night for friends, but he doesn’t have any.

Family, or friends, that is.

When he hears that his co-worker – the one with a frigid wife and five unruly kids – hired a maid to do the cleaning in the house, he pauses to think. He doesn’t have a chaos in his home, but he’s got enough money to make life a tad easier. Besides, it’s only expected of a man of his position to hire an assistant of some sort, is it not?

It’s just that he didn’t expect housemaids to be this… cute.

There are quite a few applications, and he’s a sick bastard for choosing the maid solely based on the picture attached to the CV. He told himself it was also because it looked like this lady needed the money the most. He's a generous man, so why not help a woman in need?

Another thing he didn’t expect is how his house would start to smell so nice and look so cozy. It’s the small details, the tiny little things that make his chest burn. The way she uses softener on his shirts and folds not only his shirts but his boxers, too, or places a scented candle on the table when the weather turns cold. It’s clearly for his delight because it’s not one of those overly sweet apple or caramel things but something fresh, maybe spruce or fir.

She even bakes for him on the days when he comes back. The fact that a beautiful young woman bakes for him stirs something unwanted and long-forgotten in his chest. The sweet scent of home baked buns makes his cock stir, too. His place has never seen a woman’s touch, no one has ever baked anything here…

And he certainly doesn’t expect to find his maid sleeping on his sofa when he arrives home one evening.

She stirs immediately, and apologizes profusely for making herself at home like this. She starts to stutter and explain how she’s had a busy week and difficulty with sleeping, how she simply dozed off while waiting for the rolls to bake in the oven.

He stops her in the middle of her flustered excuses: she can take a nap here any time, it’s not like the furniture is going to wear and tear from use anytime soon. He’s barely even home, so it’s good that someone enjoys the sofa, right? She can use his bed too if she wants. More convenient that way, ja?

He realizes he went a little too far when she looks at him like he just offered to fuck her on the kitchen table. Which he has thought about, to be honest, for a good long while now. In fact, he’s thought about it ever since she started in this position a month ago.

It's her fault for being so unsuspecting and lovely, and she's playing with fire when she takes more dangerous liberties by showering at his house. He finds a women’s conditioner bottle in the bathroom and once, he even catches her doing her laundry here too. There’s a pair of women’s underwear in the pile of clothes she politely informs he’d have to fold himself this time because she’s in a hurry to catch her bus.

He’s far more intrigued by the innocent, blush pink strings greeting him from amidst his black and dark green clothes than by the fact that his maid is breaking the rules. Other employers would give her a warning or simply say she no longer has to come and work here ever again. Showering at his place, washing her clothes in his washing machine and taking a nap on his sofa border on violating the terms of their agreement, but he couldn’t care less. He would carve a hole in his chest if that would make her happy.

When he finds out she’s busy because she has to work two jobs, he raises her pay, despite the fact that she’s sometimes late and at times, leaves a little too early. She does her job well enough, so there’s no reason to complain. He would simply like it if they saw each other more... Which is ridiculous, he knows, because the point of having a maid is that she cleans his house when he’s away.

It just feels so nice to arrive home now that she's here. He’s never looked forward to getting back to his bleak modern mansion, but now he’s pining for his leaves like a young recruit who's got a girl waiting for him back home.

Even if she’s not there when he gets back, he can savour her lingering scent. He sniffs the dark woolen spread she might’ve slept under just moments ago, he eats whatever freshly baked goodies she has made for him. He sleeps with her underwear tucked under his pillow, and reaches for them before sleep. Or then he grabs them in the morning when he wakes up, already hard.

It’s nice to have an unhurried fap at home than to relieve his needs in some small grey room of a boring military base. It's far more enjoyable to stroke his cock with her tiny, cute underwear spread over his face. Sometimes he wraps it around his cock and jerks himself off to a quick, groan-filled release, adoring the way his cum stains her blushing strings.

His showers last for about 15 minutes nowadays.

It’s unheard of for a soldier, and he read somewhere that lonely and depressed people take longer showers because the warm water is supposed to make up for the lack of human touch and intimacy, and that may very well be true… But he also wants to take his sweet time stroking himself while using her conditioner as lube.

Coconut or peach, vanilla or argan oil, he lathers it all over his cock and imagines her hot, wet pussy. His hand is too calloused to give him any illusions of softness, but the mind-numbingly sweet scent takes him immediately back to her. Her eyes, her soft smile. The dreamy sway of her hips, the elegance of her wrists as she moves some item out of the way to sweep or scrub or clean a surface.

He faps with slick urgency, wondering if her eyes would go wide if she saw his cock. He wonders if she’s noisy in bed – is she a screamer, or a moaner? Would she claw at his back or simply cling to him if he fucked her?

And god, how he would fuck her…

Slowly at first, draw moans out of that soft mouth until she begs him to fuck her hard. He would drag her shirt up and her bra down until her breasts are exposed, then watch how they bounce as he starts to fuck her with purpose. She begins to tighten around him, looking so fucking desperate as her cunt starts to throb and pull him in. The first moan of surrender is needy and tight when she cums around his shaft…

He never gets any further than that because his cock spills with a violent jerk. He cums, long and hard across the tiles. Loads and loads of hot seed go to waste as he groans loudly, not giving a shit about making so much noise. Feeling hollow and deprived for not being able to shoot his cum inside her and then stay there, snug and safe and warm inside her cunt, he allows himself just one single sob.

He just wants to know how it would feel to cover her whole body with his as he slowly pumps the last drops into her. Sigh afterwards, breathe together, hold her close... Search for her eyes, check if she's in rapture too. Watch her come down from it while still squeezing him down there. Perhaps she’d give him a pleased giggle and a cute, weary smile.

"Scheisse–"

He leans on the wall, knowing that he's lonely, filthy, sick and obsessed. He lives in a dream world, and the thick conditioner takes ages to wash off. The withdrawal phase is worse every time he indulges in his dark fantasies and then has to live without her for weeks and weeks.

She's just his maid, a hired employee. She’s just an innocent woman with her whole future ahead of her.

He's just a colonel at a notorious private military company… He's just an old, horny, depraved soldier. Calloused, fucked up, depressed. Girls like her don't want anything to do with a man like him.

…

She asks if he wants his house decorated for Christmas.

She asks it with bright eyes and such a lovely smile that he tells her he doesn't own such junk, but he can pay her if she goes to choose him some and then comes back to decorate his place. Their unusual agreement gets more unusual still as she nods with shining eyes, then goes to the city to choose his Christmas decorations for him. He even lets her use his car, which is unheard of.

Soon, his windows are filled with lights and there are mistletoes hanging from the ceiling. She puts fancy little elves in the window, places Christmas flowers and candles everywhere she possibly can. He walks around the house with a coffee mug in his hand, suddenly awkward and shy when watching his maid put up the most sophisticated, elegant and adorable Christmas decorations he has ever had or seen.

Is this what a home should look like…? Warm, and light, and pretty, filled with cozy, useless things?

But it's not the items she got him that make a home, no. Home now equals rich, home-cooked meals, or the mouthwatering scent of cinnamon rolls greeting him at the door. Home is a cute girl, returning his obsessive stare with a small smile and telling him to stay safe before he leaves to kill people. Home is a woman who's the perfect wife material, so fuckable and sweet, who's fussing over the fact that he doesn't even have a Christmas tree.

He gets it before her next visit – meaning, her next shift – and decorates it himself. It looks clumsy and uneven and a bit sparse, but she compliments him on it when she arrives. The looks she gives him are so warm and playful that he starts to have some hope – hell, a full surge of it – and he also starts to miss his hood. He's feeling awkward as it is around her, he doesn't need to be blushing in front of his suddenly flirtatious maid... Men don’t fucking blush when a woman flirts with them; they fuck them until their knees give in.

With no small amount of hidden guilt, he finally confronts her with her underwear, telling her she forgot something and that he found these in his laundry pile. Taking sick satisfaction from seeing how she's the one who's flustered now, he forgives her for washing laundry in his place. He's a merciful man, after all.

There's still some cum on the lace as he returns her possession to her, and he hopes he's just imagining the shock in her eyes when she takes them back. It's his way of saying that he likes her a lot, but the flirting ends immediately, the playful smiles stop, and he knows he fucked up big time. The warm, lively woman is gone, she suddenly resembles an ice sculpture who's about to flee his apartment at any given moment, and he could hit himself in the head with a big metal bat.

What the fuck was he even thinking? That a woman would appreciate it if he returned her panties covered in old, dried cum?

He's a fucked up pervert, and he has lived in a dream world, and now reality awaits.

He shuts down and shuts up after that, keeps the connection pure, pristine and professional. She's just here to do her job.

The holidays approach, and he's sulking, knowing that he won't see her again in at least six weeks. He'll have to make do without a maid, and he'll have to numb his whole soul to get through yet another lonely Christmas.

Well, not lonely: this time he spends it with the decorations she got him. They can keep him company during the lonely masturbation sessions. They can watch him live on takeout food and remind him what a horny, sad loser he is.

So his last attempt, his last minor sin is that he gets her a Christmas present. She's about to leave, hurrying to some place where she's loved and cherished, or then about to get fucked because she has her hair and make-up done. The jealousy creeps up his spine like a viper as he watches her get all dolled up.

She's so very grateful to him for allowing her to get ready here and use his bathroom, and he plays the generous, kind gentleman while gritting his teeth, trying to ignore another demanding erection telling him to dick her down and make her stay down. Make her bake for him and sit on his knee as he squeezes her tits and watches her stare turn dumb. Tell her to douse the lights and light the candles, tell her to undress in front of that stupid Christmas tree, order her to lie down on the mat and spread her pretty legs for him…

She's standing at the door, a cute girl turned into a seductive goddess, while he's about to enter into another lonely brain fog. She grabs her coat and grants him one of those warmer smiles as he walks to her with an envelope in hand.

"I got you something... Merry Christmas."

"Aw… You shouldn't have…"

She accepts his gift delicately with both hands, clearly surprised and pleased. When she opens the gift, she laughs and then covers her mouth with her hand. It's a gift card to Victoria's Secret, and with a relatively large sum on it, too.

"Oh god... Ahah, okay. I like your humour," she laughs again, then gives him a wink and an exceptionally gorgeous smile. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

He's fully aware that he sounds like an ominous, threatening robot. His voice has an effect on women; most flee, some get curious. She's one of the few who don't know what's good for them at all.

He never had a gift with females, and even with his position, experience and age, he still feels like he’s trying to court a breathtaking alien species whose native language he can’t quite understand or speak. The silence stretches on, and her smile slowly fades, making him perfectly aware of the fact that he should say or do something assertive, something charming, instead of just standing here, looming over her. When the playful stare then turns into a helpless, pitying one, the kind his mother used to wear when she discovered he had been bullied again at school, his hands start to go numb.

Jerk off and kill, those are the only things he ever was good for…

"Mm... I'm afraid I have nothing for you," she says apologetically.

Ach so… She’s ashamed for not getting him a present.

Well, shit. Fuck.

"Don't worry about it."

"No, I mean… I thought about it. You're the kindest employer I've ever had. I really appreciate it... and I love working for you."

"That’s nice to hear."

"I just didn't know what to get you. I don't know what you like."

He's trying to ignore the pull of his chest, the sick burning in his loins. His cock is stirring just from the way she's looking at him. Inviting, adoring, waiting.

"You already got me Christmas decorations."

"Yeah, but… You paid for them."

"Aber... You baked for me. No one's ever–"

He shuts his mouth before making a complete fool of himself.

"Well, I'm glad you liked my buns," she laughs, then bites her lip, realizing what she just said could be taken in many ways.

"I truly did."

She guides her stare to the floor and smiles, and the electricity between them… it just can't be only a fabric of his imagination.

"Take care of yourself. Ok?" He says, then swallows a lump in his throat, but it never quite goes down. She’s still waiting for something; the tension between them is petrifying.

"I will," she says, her voice a bit frail, and far too sweet. "You too. Take care."

She gives her last smile to him; it’s sad and somewhat disappointed as she turns around and reaches for the door.

"Wait," he calls, purely from the hard instinct that tells him to fucking do something about this heavy, sickening tension. She immediately turns with hope in her eyes.

"Yes?"

"I… Ah, glückliches neues Jahr."

"...What does that mean?"

"It means 'Happy New Year'."

"Oh," she laughs, "I thought it was something naughty…"

Shit.

Shit…

"Ich möchte deine Muschi lecken."

She freezes with her hand still on the doorknob. That fucking sentence was so dark it left little or nothing to the imagination... It was thick enough to make it clear that he’s not a kind, generous employer, nor is he a gentleman.

"What's that?" She asks, her pretty voice barely a whisper.

"Something naughty."

Her hand lets go, it falls to the side. She even tilts her head before her voice turns thick and suggestive too.

"Really…?"

"Yes."

"Well don't be shy. Tell me what it means."

Playful, naughty, dirty.

She wants to fuck. She wants to fuck.

Is this a filthy dream or is this really happening?

"I want to lick your pussy."

There's an intake of air, just a soft gasp. Batting of long, dark lashes, just before the stars in her eyes start to shine in full.

"Oh," she breathes. "Is that so?"

"Ja."

It wouldn't be the first time someone offers him cunt just out of spontaneous pity. It wouldn’t be the first time he accepts it. A man like him takes whatever he can get.

Pity is apparently what's happening now, because his maid starts to undress.

With a victorious shine in her eyes, she drops her coat to the floor, then unbuttons her jeans. Takes away her shirt and bra with shaky hands while maintaining that seductive, downright filthy eye contact. More and more of her skin is exposed as she quickly strips in front of him, finally slipping out of her black, see-through underwear while he's trying not to shake from dark urges and lust.

When she's naked, flush and bare, her fingers start to slide up her thigh. The other hand is pressed against her side as if shy. She’s either offering him a Christmas present in the most elegant way, or then she’s concerned about getting licked and fucked sore. It's like throwing a dog a meaty bone and then putting the hound in a loose chain, just an inch away from the mouthwatering sight and scent. She steals one look at his erection, currently trying to rip its way through his pants. The gross tent is pointed at her, and she knows it: she knows she has him on a leash, but only barely.

"Go ahead then," she whispers.

He falls straight to his knees, and presses his whole face against her softly trimmed hair. When he opens his mouth, she shudders, clearly not ready for someone this starved trying to devour her whole.

She doesn't know she's about to sleep with the devil… If she knew, she would be out the door by now.

It's too late now: he engulfs her, locks her in place by wrapping his arms around her hips.

Mein.

Mein…

He could rub his face in her sweet cunt forever, but that won't do: she said he could lick her, so that’s what he’s going to do. After a few bites and nibs, after inhaling the sweet scent of her and squeezing her long and hard in his embrace, he finally rises and carries her to his den. There’s only loneliness there in his bedroom, just stale sweat and old musk staining the sheets, but she softens on the linens when he goes down on her.

Her pussy is already throbbing and wet when he gives her the first, fat lick. Next up, soft little laps to make her thighs drift apart. Some long, teasing circles on her clit, and she starts to sigh - he’s not an expert, but he knows she won’t find a more enthusiastic cunt licker in this city. Or this whole country… Perhaps the entire world.

And she's not a screamer, she’s a moaner. She also whimpers a lot. He switches between giving fast attention to her clit, then slow tongue fucking to her hole. The scent of pussy fills his room: they only talk to each other through moans and whines and groans. He breathes into her like a panting dog: she whimpers under torture like she actually likes it, and likes him. Like she actually prefers his bed to any other place in this world.

He fucks her with his mouth, sloppy and hungry; he could french kiss her pussy forever like this. He could spend every evening licking her to ruin.

"Just like that… Just like that… Don't stop…"

He's as hard as can be; he's about to lose his fucking mind. If she doesn't cum soon, he might just die from having to listen to those unhinged cries.

To help her out – because he's a generous, generous man – he slips a finger inside, earning another spill of filthy moans.

"Oh god ohgod oh fuck–!"

She sounds dumb and helpless as he eats her out like she’s his last meal. His chin is drenched and his cock is hard as the poor girl leaks all over her ass and on his bedding. He adds another finger, starts to fuck her slow and steady. She's more than prepared for his cock, and when he starts to do the alphabet on her clit, she whimpers, whines, and finally, screams.

The feel-good hormones flood his brain when she cums. He kisses her through it and slows down the torture gradually, gives her some space to pulse and throb and leak against his chin.

Women need a lot of stimulation; that’s what he has learned. It’s a marathon, not a sprint, and he doesn’t want to ruin the explosion by overriding her senses. When he rises from a job well done, he sees how some of her makeup is ruined.

Yeah. Fuck... A screamer, a moaner, and a crier.

And he's only about to fuck her…

"Das war gut. Good pussy," he mutters and licks his lips, high above his pretty little prize.

"Oh–oh god…"

Poor thing is so flushed, desperate and helpless; she jerks as he taps her clit with his cock, whines when he forces the fat, leaking tip into her folds.

"Wait–"

"I will fuck you now."

"Sir… Please, could we use a condom? Please…"

She's still calling him sir like she's at work. Like he's her superior, or worse yet, an officer, a colonel she's not supposed to flirt with, let alone spread her weak little legs for.

"Hm. I don't have any."

"I do," she's panting heavy on the bed, clearly reluctant to get away from his cock, too weak to get up after his thigh-shaking treatment. It would give him a year’s worth of confidence to witness her in this state, if she would only let him finish the job. Right here, right now. Dip it in raw and blow a load inside that sweet, aching cunt. She might just end up with his child...

But the moment is ruined: he hates condoms, and he hates it that she has them with her. Jealousy starts to eat his mind like there's a can of worms poured inside his brain.

Who does she carry condoms for? Does she get fucked often...?

How many does she have, one, two, three? A whole pack?

She rises to get the darned piece of plastic, and the thick thunder in his head is making him seriously consider locking her up and throwing away the key. Women shouldn't be running around like that, hungry and desperate for a dick. She should stay at home, his home, and go crazy when he returns from war. The rage is the only thing keeping his cock from growing soft.

"It's too small," he laments when the condom is finally in place but barely reaches the base of his shaft. It's going to roll off if he fucks her like he intended to… Good, long, deep and hard.

She bites her lip as she stares at the sad little wrapping trying to render his cock harmless. Surely she can see how stupid and useless this is… Either he gets her a morning after pill tomorrow or then he pulls out, but the condom has to fucking go.

"It's… okay," she swallows. "It's okay. Let's just… If you're clean?"

"I am."

He doesn't tell her he hasn't had a woman in months. Almost over a year.

And he’s clean; he keeps everything…in ordnung.

He rolls the cursed plastic off, and his cock immediately bounces back up: hard, demanding and ready. He throws the condom away, just somewhere, anywhere, as long as it's out of his sight. Wasting no time, he's back at her cunt, and bullies himself in.

"Ah ja… Das ist schön… Sehr schön."

Nothing compares to the feel of a real cunt, hugging him tight. And fuck… He can actually fit fully inside her. He fits like a glove.

"Oh ja. Das ist... I'm not going to pull out. It's not an option. Ok?"

It's not a warning, it's a simple, honest statement. She looks at him with a fearful, desperate stare as his balls arrive to press against her flesh. Yes... nothing beats a wet pussy and a frightened stare.

"Ok…"

"It's better this way," he promises, wondering if it would make him a bad person if he disposed of her condoms first thing in the morning. "Ja?"

"Yes," she sighs. "Feels so good…"

The tightness in his chest falls down, all the way to his stomach and forms a bittersweet knot there. Why does she keep looking at him like that…? He's not hurting her, she's not exactly afraid, it's something else that's making her give him those dumb doe eyes.

"You're pretty," he rasps while trying not to start a complete fuckfest in every meaning of the word.

"O‐oh…?"

"Ja… It's illegal to be that pretty. Someone might want to fuck you..."

"Please do," she almost chokes on the words while looking up at him. "Please…"

If this is a dream, it’s the best dream he’s ever had. She's so perfect, far more needy and helpless than he ever imagined. He moves before he drives them both to madness.

"I'll fuck you, Liebling. As many times as you want. As hard as you want."

He can't remember when was the last time he sounded so soft. Or reassuring... He can't remember the last time a woman was so responsive to his cock. But he fucks her. He fucks his own sorrow into oblivion, too. He pauses only to take a good look at her and remind himself that he’s truly inside the sweetest pussy he’s ever had.

He even whispers lies to her ear about how she doesn't have to worry: he'll get her a plan B after this. The girl turns a bit wild now that it's somewhat safe to be fucked by an animal. She lets him lick and bite her breasts, and thoroughly abuse her cunt. At some point she grabs his face with both hands and kisses him, hungry and sweet. Squeals into his mouth as his balls slap against her ass, hugs him like a drowning person when he picks up the pace and starts to lose himself in her pussy. The feel of a woman's hands around his middle is a sensation he's forgotten completely.

"You like that?" He starts to talk nonsense between her sloppy kisses, pleased with his own soft voice, with her, with everything in his life right now. "You like my cock? Hm?"

"Yes… Oh fuck, I'm…"

Fuck, she's about to cum again... He's in heaven, no, he's somewhere near Eden. She suddenly goes still, and sinks her nails in his back, just before a cry cuts through the air. It reminds him of the aftermath of a grenade detonating; her moans pierce the air, and he can’t get enough of it. He wants to swim in those screams.

He was supposed to make love to her for hours, but it's crystal clear now that this won’t be a long session. He's a selfish asshole for chasing his own peak next by fucking her through her second orgasm like a rabid dog.

"Oh das ist sehr schön, das ist gut… Ach für–scheisse—"

He sounds a bit too pathetic, and quickly buries his face into her neck to escape her lovely, adoring stare. He fucks himself into a big, fat, blinding explosion, he can barely hear the thundering roar that meets her sweaty neck.

She's scared silent by his despair, poor little thing. And he just fapped this morning… But the orgasm compares to the first time he came, it's violent, abrupt and rough. Sadly, the descent is too heady, and too quick. Nuzzling deeper into her hair, he tries to listen to her heartbeat but only hears his own beastlike panting.

"Ok… Ok. I guess we both really needed that, huh?"

She's laughing and out of breath as she gathers their pieces and constructs some kind of a new reality out of them. He rumbles in agreement and refuses to pull out – now that he's inside her, he'll never fucking leave.

"Will you stay? For the night…?"

His question is met by complete silence. She just breathes, then buries her fingers in his hair. He feels like melting chocolate; for the first time in his life, he's somewhat relaxed and content.

"I… I'd really like to but… I can't. I have a party to attend.”

She gives him a quick kiss on the head, then ruffles his hair. She fucking pets him while he’s plunging into some deep recess with the raw, post-nut clarity.

She just needed a fuck… She just needed some cock. And a gift card, so she can buy nice things for the men she allows to lick her to ruin. Fuck… She's even worse than him.

“I'm sorry..."

"It's ok," he hears himself say. She’s too fucking gentle as she drags her fingertips across his scalp. Her other hand comes to trace his jawline, and her thighs hug his waist so good that he would have no trouble making love to her again. Just start another round with a slow roll of hips. Fuck her until they're both sweaty and crying, fuck her full of his cum and chain her to the bed, for safekeeping as he goes and gets himself a beer in between the sessions.

For some reason, he can't quite bring himself to act on this wish. Not when she just cried from how good he was, not when she's petting him like he's a good dog who's earned his rest.

He gives himself a minute before pulling out, and she leaves his bed in silence, tiptoeing into the bathroom in a hurry. Trust a maid to not want to stain the floor with cum when she just scrubbed everything clean…

She takes a quick shower and fixes her makeup, then picks her clothes from the floor. His heart is hammering in his chest, but his breaths remain even as he watches her get dressed. He even offers her a ride to the party, which she accepts with apologetic gratitude. It’s held at someone's home: a house party is a sight he has only ever seen from outside.

She gives him an uneasy, distant smile and a quick kiss before thanking him for the evening and the ride. Then she half walks, half runs across the pavement and up towards the door to be let in by her already drunken friends. Some man embraces her, and the white rage inside his skull is telling him to grab a gun, rise from the car and start a good old mass shooting. Instead, he guides his stare to the asphalt and drives off.

He goes home and has a beer, the rage and longing giving his insides a good stab every five or ten minutes. He watches some TV, then mulls over whether to sleep on the couch because her scent is still on the sheets.

It starts to rain outside, and reality kicks in. When it rains, it pours… He decides he actually hates Christmas, and he also can't stand the smell of freshly baked cinnamon rolls. Too tired to dump them in the trash, his feet carry him to the bed, cold and soiled and wrinkled from past love that never was.

The clock is only half past ten, and the doorbell rings just before he takes his shirt off. For the umptieth time this day, his heart starts to race, reminding him that it's not wars that are cruel, but women.

When he opens the door, she's standing there in the rain. Utterly soaked, dripping wet, sad like a stray cat, lower lip trembling from cold.

"Sir?" she declares, "I'm afraid to fall in love."

There’s a spread of wings inside his chest, catching wind like a soaring eagle. It’s a fell swoop and a heady high at the same time, a burning pain right there over his heart as he looks at her, lonely and sad and so adorably lost. Beautiful and wet, like a trampled little flower after a summer storm. She's perfect, just perfect.

And has she walked all the way back here…? There’s no sign of a taxi, no sounds of a car or a bus, and she looks like she's wetter than a wet dog.

"You’re afraid to fall in love…?"

She nods, then bursts into tears. Her tiny shoulders rise and fall with sobs, the rain makes long, wet strings of her hair. He takes a step and tries to pull her in, but she won't come. Stubborn, incredible little thing…

"Liebling... Me too."

"Really?” she raises her sad stare to meet him while trying to wipe her ruined mascara in the midst of falling rain. “You seem like the kind of man who fears nothing..."

"Oh I fear a lot of things."

"Like what?"

"Like… flying, for example."

"But you fly all the time?"

"Exactly."

She's sniffling and pouting and sobbing, like a princess who always got everything she wanted. He wonders if she's the kind of girl who would've laughed at him in high school, or looked him down her nose. If she would've joined the bullies and been the one to say she’d never sleep with a freak like him…

"Let's get you inside. Hmm? You must be cold."

She won’t come, no matter how hard he tries to coax her to come inside his dry, warm house. The rain falls in mats behind her as the city sleeps, vibrant and vigilant. He thought he already broke his heart to the point it couldn’t get more broken anymore, but the look she gives him as he tries to pull her inside is making it burst and shatter into pieces again.

If she's a princess, she must be a battered, broken one.

"Come on. I'll give you a bath," he tries to entice her. "And then we’ll tuck you in. That sound gut?"

"Yes," her shoulders drop as she finally accepts his asylum. "Thank you, sir…"

"And don't call me sir unless you want to make me hard."

She breaks into a fragile, shy smile while looking down at the tips of her drenched ballerinas. Then she allows him to drag her in.

He helps her out of her coat and hangs it to dry while his pretty little kitten gets out of her clothes for the second time this evening. A strong, powerful possessiveness settles in his chest as he guides her to the bathroom and draws her a bath. Then he pulls her shivering, naked body against him so that she wouldn’t feel cold while they wait for the tub to fill with water.

What happens next is soft and gentle, the kind of unhurried exploration he never had time to do because the few females he was with were always in a hurry to get away from him and his needs.

This pretty thing just eases herself into the bath. A timid but trusting little creature, who allows him to study her body like it’s already a possession for him to play with. She lets him rub her tits and tease her clit, caress her neck and face and waist. She does so with patience, love and hope. He’s been extremely tender and extremely slow with her; perhaps that’s why she doesn’t run away from him.

"You're too good for me," she whispers when his hand comes to rest on her stomach, just below her tits.

"...What?"

He barely hears what she’s saying, he can hardly hear her speaking at all because he’s there in the water with her, submerged in the hot, soothing liquid, even if he’s crouching next to the tub in reality.

"Oh please... You're everything a woman could want," she complains softly.

"What do you mean.”

She sighs and looks up to the ceiling, as if begging for help. Then she starts to list things.

"You're… Rich? And powerful, and strong. Kind and considerate. Mysterious... With a great body and a big dick, and still wanting to go down on a woman... It's insane."

He tries to remember how to breathe, but she’s not done yet.

"I'm sorry but… No one's ever eaten me out like that. You must be so experienced."

Her praise eclipses everything, even the thoughts of wanting to kill everyone who's had a taste of her.

So, the boys she's been with don't know how to please her… Stupid arschlochs don't understand what true devotion means. Even a fucker like him knows it's better to make a woman cry out of pleasure than out of fear. Although he always had a talent to do the latter…

And he's not experienced, he's just fucking horny. He just likes to eat pussy.

But that's not something she has to know. Better to have her keep the illusion that he's a dream catch, a rich cosmopolitan of some sort. What a joke…

"You’re literally perfect," she moans from the bath like the princess that she is. "How are you even single?"

"I'm not… right in the head, I guess."

"Well, neither am I."

He can’t look at her. Not when she’s open and trustful and sweet like this. But her hand comes to rest over his, under the water, under the safety of the surface.

"No one is."

"No. Wirklich, I’m a bit sick. Always was. I jerked off to your…" He leaves the rest of the sentence unsaid, risking a look into her eyes.

"I know," she smiles. "I don't mind… Actually I think that's hot."

"Liebling…"

"I think I’ve had enough now. Can we go to bed…?"

"Of course."

She giggles when he lifts her from the water, smiles as he dries him with his towel like she's a wet little kitten he rescued from rain. And perhaps he did... She caresses his chin when he carries her to bed, and reaches for him as he accompanies her under the sad, steel-blue sheets.

He doesn’t need to fuck her, not right now. It’s enough that she’s here: soft, trapped, and tame. His, just his.

Not another lonely Christmas for him ever again…

And she latches herself onto him like he’s the saviour she’s been waiting for all her life. Poor thing doesn’t know that he may be rich and powerful and strong, but he’s not kind. He’s not considerate, and he’s not perfect. He’s her worst nightmare, he's everything a woman would despise.

He’s single because no one ever stayed. No one stayed after they saw who he really was... Some even had to flee the country.

But he knows she’ll stay. He’ll make sure that this cute one never leaves. No, this one is not safe from him, even if she tried to escape him to space.

"Are you still afraid?"

He caresses her head, pressed against his chest. She’s unsuspecting and lovely, the perfect woman, hugs him so tight and sighs from simple, lamblike happiness.

"No," she smiles softly. "Not at all... I know you'll treat me right."

#könig x reader #könig x you #könig fanfiction #yandere könig #tw: dark content #könig smut

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satoruhour · 1 year

Note

toji’s reaction to seeing you in short shorts/booty shorts around the house 🏃‍♀️

PAYBACK

a/n: sorry anon i didnt exactly like how this turned out but i still hope u enjoy !!!

wc: 2.1k

warnings: sorta crack-ish in the beginning, pleasure dom toji, soft dom toji, praise, toji is obsessed w/ you, kitchen sex, clothed sex, oral (f! receiving) / cunnilingus, pussy slaps! (both w/ his hand and d!ck), fingering, clit stimulation, tit + ass fondling, unprotected sex, p → v penetration, creampie / breeding kink, brief aftercare, n*sfw under the cut

there were things that toji was good at holding back on, like telling you that you might’ve added a bit more garlic than butter for a garlic spread. he doesn’t tell you how your body heat warms him up fast and he desperately wants to pull away from you, but your slumbering state is so peaceful he would rather burn.

and then sometimes he wishes he would just bite the bullet (even if you were his baby), because you were currently getting back at him for giving you the silent treatment. if he could do it over a trivial thing, so could you. toji’s probably still mad about your guess in charades, where you couldn’t understand that he was telling you he was riding a tricycle and not a bicycle, that mere difference of wheels causing a major roadblock in your relationship.

it was by far the stupidest thing you’ve argued about (you assume he had a bad day, too), and you were willing to talk things out and tell him he could’ve just put up three fingers instead of pointing aggressively to an invisible tricycle, but he opts to glare at you and sigh instead. you can’t believe he’s getting this worked up over a game of charades too, so you tease him the only other way you know how to.

it hadn’t been that long since you talked, but you figured you’ll need to start on dinner soon, getting a sick idea in your head when you see the new booty shorts you had ordered laying on your bed. you definitely thought it would be better for another day, but life is short and toji is not, so you pull them on and they feel divine, remembering the content smile on your face when your boyfriend had offered to pay for them — a reward well received when you check out your ass in the full-length mirror and the way it shaped your lower half.

the evening carries on as usual, but you can feel his stare once you emerge from your room in one of his shirts and he thinks you aren’t wearing any pants until you’re pulling out saucepans and reaching for the spices in the top cupboard that his shirt rides up and he can see your plump fucking ass; he chokes on his water.

with your back turned, you stifle a little grin and continue with your chores as the shorts ride up with each walk from living room to kitchen, but it’s all under the guise of cleaning and setting the table, wiping aimlessly, too, at the coffee table in front of the TV where toji sat, even if you weren’t eating there. you feel eyes on you when you return to the kitchen and continue your torture, cooking up a storm and bending over while looking into the fridge, while pulling out the plates for dinner, while—

“those the shorts i bought you?” bingo. although you’re not quite ready to talk to him yet, you succumb with a curt nod. toji obviously isn’t satisfied with your answer, footsteps approaching to lean on the kitchen island as his eyes keep his gaze locked at your butt.

“gonna ignore me for the whole day, hm?” it seemed like toji had other plans, his larger hand trailing up your thighs to your ass before curling around your waist. he’s pressing his front against you, hips grinding slightly even though you know he wants to do anything but that. you’re not wearing underwear, either, so the sensation of his bulge against your cunt is a lovely feeling and it takes everything in you not to moan.

you have to bring yourself back to reality to turn off the stove that feels so far away, hands clutching onto the countertops as you chase the familiar drag of your sex against his but toji only tuts, landing a slap onto your ass. “dinner first, baby.”

bastard. you roll your eyes and groan, but you didn’t seem to catch his innuendo, so you’re yelping when he suddenly flips you around and tugs at your shorts, pulling it off of a leg so there’s space for him. while your hands are pushing at his shoulders, desperately wanting to uphold your pride of ignoring him, you know the cool air against your cunt and the sight of fushiguro toji on his knees is only making you wetter.

and toji just smirks, looking up at you like his revered deity and you jump again at his cold hands prying your thighs apart, bringing a leg to rest on his shoulder. toji looks in love with your pussy, seeing your hole clench around nothing as your eyes beg for him to do something, anything, but he only continues to tease, running his thumbs along your folds and just missing your clit.

“use your words, sweetheart.”

“need…” toji raises an eyebrow, cheek leaning casually against your thigh and he grins as he sees you fight your own pride like you don’t want his tongue and fingers on you. give it a little more and you’ll break, because through the silence of your shared home and your heavy breathing, the tension is so infuriating that you’re willing to push away that stupid game of charades to the back of your brain.

you hate how needy you sound, though. “i need your tongue… p-please, baby,” you plead and drag out the name, and in the stuffiness of the kitchen, you think toji, one of the strongest men you know, looks the fucking best when he’s smiling up at you with a wanton want behind his eyes. “wan’ you, toji, wan’ you to eat me out!”

“oh… of course, when you beg like that,” toji plants a kiss to your puffy clit and the simple gesture makes you whine, “how could i say no to my pretty baby?”

toji delves in like he’s never eaten before, licking a thick stripe up your pussy to collect your slick before lapping at your clit, garnering a loud moan that reverberates throughout the house. you wish you never called him out on his terrible acting skills from the start, one hand keeping your balance while the other tugs on his black hair. harder and harder.

toji groans at your impatience as he feels you spread your legs further, moans and whimpers filling his ears. one hand sneaks under his shirt and squeezes at your tits, the other hugging you closer to him, fondling your ass at the same time. your boyfriend takes in everything, from your pleasured expression to your contracting tummy and he can feel himself harden below him.

but you come first, you always come first and he makes it clear when he halts for a second and you whine at the lack of contact. “eyes here, baby.” toji calls out to you, slapping your cunt and you jolt at the feeling, although it’s not entirely unpleasant; your eyes flit down to him. the other grins again and slaps your pussy a few more times, the wetness of your sex making loud, obscene noises, “tell me how good i’m making you feel, yeah?”

you mewl as you nod as his fingers prod at your hole and you swear the sudden intrusion has your stomach turning. you’re clamping down on his fingers which sets a pace, buried right up to the ends of his fingers as his palm collects your slick. your lover continues to abuse your clit, alternating between flicking his tongue and sucking.

“o-ooh, shit! they’re so deep, tojiii!” the moans you let out were almost pornographic, breathless and needy with how good he was giving it to you, the familiar feeling of an orgasm creeping up on you. his fingers keep a constant pace, stretching you out so well and the roughness of them feel so contrasting on your body, but you love it. “toji, i— fuck, i’m c-close!”

“taste so good, doll. c’mon, cum on my tongue.” the older man is ruined too, the heat of the kitchen getting to him with how the strands of his hair stick to his forehead, but more than that, he’s grinding into thin air, wanting any sort of relief for his hardening cock. “you taste like heaven, oh shit...”

“t-toji— i’m! oh, fuck, fuck fuck—!” it’s not long before you’re unravelling in his hold, legs trembling and incoherent babbles spilling from your lips as toji licks up your release leaving from your dripping, tight hole, sure to lap up every last drop. his emerald eyes hold yours as he cleans you up, body still twitching and shivering from the mind-blowing orgasm before he stands and removes his fingers, holding it to your lips.

“suck.” and you do, keeping eye contact as you wrap your tongue around him like you would to his cock, free hand already making pulling down his sweatpants that has a little pre-cum leaking through it.

“up you go, darling,” toji mumbles, plopping you onto the counter with ease, and because he’s so tall, his pelvis perfectly lines up with yours. it’s probably also because you envisioned this happening, though, that you made sure to pick out a kitchen countertop with the proper height. he slaps the tip of his cock on your glistening pussy, an angry red from being neglected, groaning as your arousal provides lube with no problem.

“just so you know, i’m buying you more of those stupid shorts,” toji confesses before he pushes past your entrance, tip already stretching you so well that you laugh and moan at the same time, arms flying to encircle his neck to feel him closer. “f-fuck, baby… so tight, just for me…”

“’s all yours, toji,” you whimper softly, an unspoken look in your eyes that just says that i’m yours for you to use, “this pussy’s all y-yours— mmf—”

by then, he’s bottomed out, taking his time in filling you up inch by inch and your submission is reason enough for him to start rocking into you, hips faltering just a little by how warm and snug you felt that it has toji catching his breath. but he doesn’t hold back once you’re comfortable, bullying his cock into you at a faster pace into your pussy that sucks him in so well with each thrust.

“your tight, little pussy’s g’na make me cum faster than usual, pretty,” toji says with a breathless laugh, mouth tasting the sweat that lines your body as he kisses your neck.

“that’s— okay,” you choke out, pulling him away from the embrace and the sight that greets you takes your breath away. dark, lustful eyes trained on you and a stunning smile to match; you see your lover’s eyes soften ever so slightly when he hits that sweet spot in you, “i’ll take all— fuck- all of your cum, okay?”

and toji almost cums at that moment but he knows if he looks at you any longer and how your tongue lols out at how his cock fits so well in you, he just might; so he just settles for frantic nods, and nudges your head down to look at how his length moves in and out of you. your slick and his pre-cum is leaking all over the counter, squelching noises filling the kitchen. “look at how well you take me. good fuckin’ girl is what you are.”

you giggle at the praise because you know toji means every word, but your moans take over soon. there’s the twist of your core, that edging feeling that toji’s drawing out of you so well — it doesn’t help how he brings a hand to your clit, rubbing circles that you’re close, so close.

“toji, toji, toji—” chanting out his name is all you can do when you’re fucked silly, spilling over unexpectedly as you clamp down hard on his cock. toji groans when he feels you spasm over his length, hips not stopping even after you ride out your orgasm. you’re cumming so much that his stomach is wet, too, the pap! pap! pap! of his pelvis against your pussy sounding so filthy.

your babbles converge into three words, mumbling out i love yous to the older man and soon toji cums as well, swallowing your tearful confessions with a sloppy kiss and he’s releasing deep inside you. he can feel your mewls through the kiss, no doubt loving how his thick cum is spilling into you. his seed is hot, leaking from his tip in ropes and ropes until you’re filled to the brim and you sigh, content with how it feels in you.

your lazed hums make him chuckle, kissing you again and softer this time. “my baby, my sweet baby,” toji makes sure to wipe your eyes after, and mutters apologies against your forehead for the dinner turning cold, but when he sees you and your languid smile, he knows you don’t mind.

thirsts and drabble requests are open!

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youreverydayfangirl · 4 months

Text

but daddy i love him

pairing: charles leclerc x australian! reader

summary: where people have things to say about your relationship, or in which it all gets to much for y/n

warning: age gap relationship, slutshaming, angst, death threats

a/n: i have a pt 3 planned don't worry guys

pt 1 is here!!! pt 3 is here!!!

f1 masterlist

main masterlist

arthurleclerc has posted one story

caption: best future sister in law

liked by charlesleclerc, yourusername and 24, 386 others

charlesleclerc how is she

arthurleclerc shes fine

charlesleclerc take care of her please

arthurleclerc ofc i will

yourusername HELP whyd you post this one

arthurleclerc cause you low key look weird asf 🤷🏼

arthurleclerc also im legit standing next to you whyd you have to text me

user1 so she got to you

arthurleclerc leave her alone man shes legit done nothing

user2 ew

arthurleclerc how bout you fuck off

yourusername has posted one story

caption: revenge

liked by charlesleclerc, arthurleclerc and 345, 795 others

charlesleclerc hes gonna kill you

yourusername oh well

charlesleclerc how are you

yourusername fine

arthurleclerc im gonna kill you

arthurleclerc take this down

yourusername no you wont

yourusername you like me to much too

arthurleclerc true

user1 slut

user2 going for the more age appropriate one now

user3 cant just have one can you

yourusername has posted

liked by charlesleclerc, olivia rodrigo and 3, 278, 217 others

yourusername happy international womens day. celebrating the women closest to me

tagged: lilymhe, francisca.cgomes, sabrinacarpenter, oliviarodrigo, carla.brocker, yourmothersusername, pascaleleclerc

francisca.cgomes my fav omg

→ yourusername your literally the bestest friend in the whole world

lilymhe hate that photo tbh

→ yourusername wdym you literally look STUNNING

→ user1 shes so not a girls girl

sabrinacarpenter not stop i miss you

→ yourusername i miss you more girl

oliviarodrigo well hangout when your tour finished trust

→ yourusername ofc i wouldn't have it any other way

carla.brocker thank you for dealing with arthur today omg

→ yourusername lol sure anytime

→ arthurleclerc HEYYY

→ user2 ew shes such a slut

→ arthurleclerc pipe down user2

yourmothersusername my gorgeous daughter

→ yourusername love you mummy

yourmothersusername my gorgeous daughter

→ yourusername love you mummy

pascaleleclerc couldn't be happier to have you in our family

liked by creator

pascaleleclerc thank you for taking charles off our plates

→ yourusername ofc but you have to take him on saturday hes getting clingy

→ charlesleclerc heyy

→ yourusername sorry mon amor but its true

user3 she saw twitter and had to shut it down real quick

→ user4 no fr tryna act like they acc like her

yourusername has posted

liked by francisca.cgomes, charlesleclerc and 4, 786, 374 others

yourusername life before i have to go back on tour

tagged: fransisca.cgomes, gomezzzlife

charlesleclerc 🤍

fransisca.cgomes STUNNING

→ yourusername SAYS YOU

user1 acting as if its a chore to be on tour

user2 imagine not liking your fiances comment

→ user3 no fr fr

user4 go die slut

yourusername has posted

caption: race day

liked by charlesleclerc, francsica.cgomes and 128, 879 others

charlesleclerc you look gorgeous today

yourusername charlie 🤍

francisca.cgomes HOT

user1 ABSOLUETLY NOT

user2 byeee

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yourusername but daddy i love him out now

COMMENTS ON THIS POST HAVE BEEN DISABLED

INCOMING PHONECALL

charles

my love

whats going on

you

charlie

im sorry

you

i just can't do this anymore

its all too much

charles

what

what are you talking about

you

i can't do us anymore

i love you so much

but everythings to much

their all to much

charles

fuck them

they don't know our relationship

they don't know how much i'm in love with you

please we can figure something out

you

i can't charlie

i'm sorry

i just need space

CALL ENDED

charlesleclerc has posted one story

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COMMENTS ON THIS POST HAVE BEEN LIMITED

__________________________

a/n: part two guys!!! lmk if you want a pt3 becuase i have one planned.

#formula 1 #charles leclerc #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc angst #charles leclerc smau

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sixosix · 9 months

Text

STAY, TOO | AETHER

desc you were afraid that aether would break your heart, but that all flew out the window the moment he got sick and demanded only you take care of him

notes wc 2.8k, FLUFF FLUFF bit of angst with reader’s mindset but happy ending i swear on my asia server genshin acc + this draft had been in my docs since 10/15/2023. its a miracle that i decided to pick up on it again and actually finish it !!!!!!! enjoy fellow aether kissers

Evenings were always eerily silent; because of that, your thoughts were loud. Not in the way that screamed—no, it was much worse. It was his voice that whispered, that made you shiver and reach out for something that never existed.

You didn’t know if you were dreaming or if you were awake and letting your mind wander away to a familiar face. Your mind always ended up back to him, no matter how much you tried to stray away. No matter who you talked to, he haunted you. Who you kissed, his face flashed in your mind. You wanted to curse his name out—it was his fault you were like this. It was his fault for deciding to come into this world and rid yourself of your defenses, left helpless to his whims.

“Um, Y/N?” A hand moved to your shoulder.

You jumped out of your seat, heart racing as his grinning face dissipated from your mind. You turned and breathed a sigh of relief. “What are you doing here, Sucrose?”

“It’s past midnight,” Sucrose murmured, her expression nervous, but apparently, she was too worried to leave you be. “I saw light from your window and thought you fell asleep…”

You didn’t even know if you were—everything before felt like a distant blur. Your eyes darted back to your desk, and then your face paled at the sight of a grinning face staring back at you. How long had you been mindlessly doodling Aether’s face? You quickly snatched them away from Sucrose’s view.

“I—I’m fine. Sorry, I did fall asleep.”

Sucrose’s bottom lip jutted out. “This has been happening for too long now. You’re not fine.”

What were you supposed to say to that? You were so hopelessly infatuated with someone who was ruining your life and possibly your job with Mr. Albedo. That would be a fast way to get yourself fired.

Sucrose sat on the chair beside you, her expression determined. “We’re friends, aren’t we? Can you at least tell me what’s going on?”

“It’s nothing that serious, Sucrose,” you stammered. Hopefully, the candles were dim enough to hide how flustered you were. It was more embarrassing than serious, really.

“Is it the Traveler?” She knew how to strike hard for someone with such an innocent face.

When had it not been the Traveler, honestly?

“Ugh…” That was a yes for her, apparently.

Sucrose smiled in relief. Her eyes darted around your face, studying you. “What’s wrong? Was he affecting you that much?”

“Yes. Disturbingly so. Like, seriously, it’s disturbing me.”

Sucrose’s eyes sparkled with wonder. “How?”

“It feels like swallowing a crystalfly whole and feeling it flutter around my stomach whenever I even think of him.”

Sucrose’s face turned serious. “What have you been doing to the crystalfies we’ve been collecting?”

“Never mind,” you muttered. “I’m fine, Sucrose. I promise, okay?”

You weren’t. Sucrose must’ve thought the same, too, because Lisa barged into your office the next day.

“What else are you expecting? For him to notice your wallowing and say something about it?”

Lisa’s sweet, melodious voice sounded torturous now when she was poking at all the things you were desperately trying to keep hidden. You sink against your seat, feeling a lot like a scolded kid, caught red-handed skipping chores—skipping responsibilities, hoping to stay oblivious for a bit longer.

“He already said something,” you grumbled, finding it difficult to meet the mage’s sharp eyes.

For someone who sounded as gentle as a mother to her only child, Lisa’s disappointment made you feel a lot more shameful than if she were to chide you in the middle of Mondstadt’s streets.

“A week after we met. He told me he likes me,” you continued.

Lisa’s jaw dropped, a funny expression you’ve never seen on her before. “A week after you met? Let me get this right—”

You groaned, “Lisa, trust me, I know—”

“—Our dear Traveler confessed to you ages ago. When was it when Aether helped us with Stormterror? He’s in Fontaine now!” Lisa looked a little frazzled, her eyes wild. You were expecting her to chide you some more until you saw how her entire expression was sparkling. This felt foreboding, somehow. “He keeps visiting to see you! After all these years of you foolishly rejecting him—”

“I didn’t reject him!”

Lisa hummed thoughtfully. “Oh, but isn’t that exactly what you’re doing?”

You were not rejecting Aether. You didn’t outright tell him you’re not interested because you are. He had been haunting your thoughts since you first laid eyes on him, returning from battle, cold breath billowing from his mouth, a pixie by his side, his hair aglow gold, Festering Desire in hand—and, oh, you desired him. It reached a point where Albedo himself had to ask if you wanted a check-up from how much you were burning with want.

Aether had grinned at you so brightly, and you damn near melted on the spot, even in the unrelentingly bitter weather of Dragonspine.

You found yourself liking him for more than his quite literally alien nature, his out-of-this-world body, and his abilities that had your hands itching to reach for a pen and paper to write down everything about him and figure out what the hell he was. Instead, you started falling for him as just Aether. His boyish smile, his witty jabs, his glimpses of personality.

And then he confessed to you—you, no one but one of Albedo’s assistants—and said he likes you, and you just couldn’t bring yourself to say anything at the time. You thought of him leaving one day, and then you just couldn’t say the yes that was chanting in your brain.

To no one’s surprise, he did leave. Not to that extent yet, but away from Mondsadt. Even in Liyue, Inazuma, Sumeru, and Fontaine, he invaded your thoughts as if cursing you for not saying what you were thinking. You could only wish he thought of you just as much as you did to him. Maybe he’d end up hating you, and not loving him would be easier.

“Are you kidding?” If it were so easy, you would’ve already jumped in his arms and kissed him breathlessly. “He’s—he’s not like us. He doesn’t belong here. He’d leave, eventually. Just like he always does with the other worlds.”

“Is that what’s stopping you?”

“That’s reason enough to be stopping me,” you said sharply. “He’s got millions of worlds to flirt with as he pleases, and this is my only one. Who knows if Aether is the type to even visit?”

Lisa crossed her arms. “Maybe you should ask. Communication is key.”

“Even if that was the case, I can’t handle it. I already miss him enough while he’s still in Teyvat—I don’t know how I could live with myself if I let him into my heart, and he’s a world away.”

“You’ve already let him in your heart,” Lisa said softly. “Just talk to him, alright? I’m not the only one worried about you when you drive yourself to a corner like this—especially over a boy!”

“I’m perfectly alright,” you said, ignoring Lisa’s amused smile. “I’m not losing my mind. Especially over a boy.”

You definitely were losing your mind. That boy was Aether; how could you not?

“I think it’s adorable,” Lisa cooed, cupping her cheeks and sighing dreamily. “He’s still waiting patiently. Who knew the Traveler would be so willing to wait for love?”

You wished that it wasn’t like that.

“Y/N! Are you here?”

Crap. Did you fall asleep in your office again? Might as well stop paying rent if this was going to be a recurring thing.

Once again, by routine at this point, you threw your notes that had Aether’s face inked by the edges. Memory be damned, You couldn’t let anyone see how detailed your drawings of Aether are.

“Y/N?” The voice rang out again, and it sounded more familiar now.

You went to open the door and frowned. “Lisa? It’s so early—did something happen?”

Lisa smiled in greeting, so beautifully devious with what she was about to say: “Our Honorary Knight is back in town!”

“Did you come all the way here just to tell me that?” Were people just seeing you as one of Aether’s admirers?

“Of course not,” Lisa chuckled, patting your head. How did she look so good this early in the morning? “He’s sick and needs someone to look after him.”

You wanted to close the door. You wanted to crawl back to your desk and go to sleep, but she had that look in her eye—one that told you that you had something to do with where she was going. And you did not like where this was going.

“So?” Dammit. You really wanted to see Aether again.

“Why, who else better to take care than his dearest alchemist?”

“Albedo is everyone’s alchemist. Sucrose is everyone’s dearest alchemist.”

Lisa shushed you. Why was she so invested in this? “No, no, his. Not everyone’s.”

You felt your face burn at the thought of being his dearest alchemist. Or anything his. “Absolutely not! Wasn’t he in Fontaine just yesterday?”

“Why don’t you go ask him that yourself?”

You scowled. You weren’t agreeable in the mornings. “How did you even know about this?”

Lisa smirked, poking your nose. “Because he asked for you, specifically.”

You laughed dryly—good one.

“I won’t let you do anything you wouldn’t want,” Lisa said seriously, “but would you change your mind if I told you that it’s Aether that wants you?”

And so you ended up in Aether’s teapot, which was hanging around Jean’s office for safety. Jean only smiled knowingly when you knocked on the door and zipped straight to the teapot. You were only doing this on the off-chance that Lisa was telling the truth and that Aether demanded he didn’t want anyone else but you checking up on him.

His teapot was familiar. You had been here a few times, but you didn’t have your own room. That was too embarrassing to ask, no matter how much Aether suggested it.

“Y/N!” Aether lit up the moment you entered the room.

“Aether,” you greeted, and as much as you wanted to hide it, a smile bloomed on your lips. It was hard not to smile when Aether was looking at you like that.

He looked like a mess, with strands of hair spread all over his pillows. His blanket was only up to his hips, showing that he was out of his usual look, and wore a simple white shirt. You were grateful for that shirt; you didn’t want to end up helping Aether strip because he definitely would have suggested that.

“I’m sick,” Aether whined. “Tend to me.”

You would’ve doubted his fever, but it was worryingly hot when you reached out to check his forehead’s temperature.

Immediately, your suspicions fly out the window. Aether was burning, and you were the only one in the same room (teapot?) who should take care of him. The Honorary Knight was reduced to a fever.

You cupped his cheek and watched as Aether pressed his face closer. “Does your head hurt?”

“Yes.”

You tore your hand off. “I’ll make something to ease the pain.”

“You can ease it right now. By kissing it away.”

“Aether,” you sighed. Unbelievable. How did he still have enough energy for this while positively rotting on his bed? “Take this seriously. I haven’t seen you this sick— Actually, this is the first time I’ve ever seen you sick. How did this even happen?”

“Stayed too long underwater,” he said.

Aether? Getting sick from swimming? You made a face, which Aether laughed softly at.

“No, seriously. It was an emergency commission. Even when I had to resurface, it was pouring. Someone was making the Hydro Dragon cry hard yesterday.” Aether’s face scrunched as he looked up at you with round eyes. “I was so cold.”

Although it sounded absurd that Aether would get a fever from that, you suppose that having to stay drenched for a long time would affect even someone like him. You couldn’t even imagine having to shiver your way back to Mondstadt after being thoroughly drenched the whole day.

You pulled the blanket further up Aether’s chest. Even if you suspected he was lying, he was trembling underneath the covers.

“Alright.” You’ll believe him because right now, it is a fact that Aether is undoubtedly sick.

You were well aware that he was and sounded like he was dying, but he looked cute, flushed, and staring at you expectantly. It felt nice to be needed by someone like him—made him feel less like a faraway dream.

You cleared your throat and looked away; you knew you looked flustered. “Have you eaten yet?”

“Why? Will you cook for me?” he asked.

You knew how to cook, but for someone who had traveled regions and tasted all kinds of foods, you would probably disappoint. Still, it wasn’t time for a competition with other chefs in Liyue or Fontaine. Aether needed food to fill his stomach.

“Any suggestions?” You hoped for nothing unfamiliar and crazy. You loved Aether, but having to fetch ingredients from oceans away was too much.

“Make it with love,” Aether said cheekily because he was a bastard who didn’t have any mercy on your heart.

And so you left the room and ignored Aether, laughing and coughing as he called after you. You had to leave either way—your chest was almost as warm as Aether’s forehead.

You decided to make a Radish Veggie Soup. You hoped Aether wasn’t too picky about his vegetables. The water was comfortably cold, enough to make you search around his cupboards for towels to soak it into. As you waited for the water to boil, you decided to check up on Aether again.

He was still lying there, but with his eyes closed now. You felt terrible seeing someone you witnessed defeat dragons battling a fever. You drew closer and placed the towel on his head. He didn’t flinch at the stark change of temperature, but he did react instantly, his warm hand clasping your wrist.

“Stay,” Aether rasped.

You bit your lip, your heart sinking. Was he dreaming about his sister? You always worried when he was feeling down because of their separation.

But then his eyes opened, and he stared right at you. “Y/N,” he said, “please stay.”

“I can’t.”

“Just this once.” Aether’s voice sounded so quiet, so unsure of himself.

You really couldn’t. You had a Radish Veggie Soup to attend to.

“I’m staying,” Aether said, and you had a feeling he wasn’t talking about the bed. “I’m staying here for you.”

You frowned. “Don’t lie to make me feel better right now. That would hurt more when you have to leave.”

Aether’s face softened impossibly. “I’m not lying. I’m telling you the truth—I’m not leaving Teyvat. Even if I find my sister, I’m staying.”

Seriously? Just like that? “What made you change your mind?”

You couldn’t tell if Aether was blushing or if it was his fever. “How could I leave Teyvat when I see how cute you look taking care of me?”

You threw a pillow to his face.

He swerved away and laughed brightly. “I’m joking! I’m joking—drop that pillow, please. I’m kidding. Well, sort of.”

His face was once again attempted to get assaulted by another pillow. Aether grinned as he blocked it off with an arm.

“For someone so sick, you seem awfully lively,” you said, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“You breathe life into me; what can I say?”

You groaned. You couldn’t deal with this today—you needed at least three business days to process this and find another reason to reject him. Yet, as you moved to get some fresh air (anything to get Aether’s stupid face out of your view), a hand abruptly reached for your wrist.

Aether’s face was close to yours in a blink of an eye. His breath was hot on your face. “I’m serious,” he said, “so if— if you feel the same way, the least you can do is stay, too.”

“I— You—” You gaped at him. That sounded like it could be a proposal. Who would’ve thought—the Outlander, the Traveler, begging for you to stay?

Aether’s gaze flicked to your lips.

“Don’t kiss me,” you said in warning. “Are you an idiot? You’re sick!”

“That’s fine. I get to take care of you when you do,” Aether said.

Your face paled. “No! I have a job, Aether—”

Aether frowned. “And I have a world to save, but that can wait. We’re busy.”

You pushed his face away, his laugh smothered by your palm. “No, we are not. I’m busy making food for your sorry ass, away from you.”

Aether’s face crumpled. “Do you actually not want to kiss?”

Not when he’s sick and snotty, yeah.

Instead, you leaned in to kiss his forehead to make up for it. It was brief and faint, but Aether looked satisfied, smiling softly when you pulled away. It would do for now.

“I’m staying,” you said. “So long as you do, too. I’ll stay with you.”

THE SOUP TURNED OUT OKAY STILL. this is just how my mom takes care of me when im sick LOL but the idea of doing it to a sick aether was too good i had to write a fic about it. also i love angst about aether being the traveler aaghgh

thank u sm for reading. as always, lmk what u think and i hope u liked it!! <3

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin x you #aether x reader #aether x you #aether x y/n #genshin x y/n

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artificial-transmutations · 4 months

Text

Immersive Mode™

Finally, Friday was here. It had been ages since they had a whole weekend dedicated to nothing but video games. "They" in that context were Kevin and Nick, best friends since pre-school and video game enthusiasts. Of course, having adult lives, with jobs and chores and - at least in the case of Kevin - a girlfriend left preciously little time for gaming, which was a shame, really. Their interests in games were diverse and they played pretty much everything - from mindless loot-shooters to farming sims, so they never felt like they had enough time.

This weekend, however, was different. Kevin's girlfriend was on a work trip, and the boys had planned for a whole weekend of gaming, which Kevin was really looking forward to.

He stood in front of Nick's door, his backpack with everything he needed for the days over his shoulder, and was just about to ring the bell, when Nick opened the door and almost bumped into his friend.

"Oh, hey bro, good to see you!"

They hugged - shortly - and Nick continued, as he passed Kevin:

"Listen, I'm gonna buy some energy really quick. Make yourself at home, I'll be back in ten minutes tops."

Of course, Kevin knew this wouldn't hold true. Nick was notoriously bad with times, so he didn't expect him to be back in the next half hour. But Kevin was in a very good mood, so he didn't mind waiting. He had finished putting down his stuff quickly and looked around Nick's apartment.

Unlike Kevin, Nick didn't have a girlfriend - no, a partner, Kevin corrected himself. Even though Nick had never explicitly *said* so, Kevin was reasonably sure he batted for the other team. It didn't matter to Kevin at all, really. If anything, he used to think that this left more girls for the rest of them, although that hardly mattered anymore to Kevin, at least not since he had a girlfriend.

He sighed. Yeah, his girlfriend. After this weekend of gaming, he was going to propose to her, and he wanted to ask Nick to be his best man, at a good opportunity. However, the truth was that he wasn't really all too happy with it. He knew that it was *expected* of him to propose, but... he just wasn't sure about his now-girlfriend-and-future-wife. He didn't really... connect. Nick and he were lifelong friends, understood each other without words and Kevin trusted Nick with all his life. The same couldn't be said about his future wife. If he had the choice, he'd much rather date Nick, but since Kevin wasn't gay, that was a mood point to think about.

He looked around Nick's untidy bachelor apartment until his eyes found the gaming rig of his best friend. It was running - of course - and showed the main menu of a game Kevin recognized as a new life sim that was pretty hyped in social media. It was a lot like the sams, but without the greedy multi-billion-dollar company behind it.

Intrigued, Kevin sat down in front of the screen. He was sure Nick wouldn't mind if he took a look.

The "continue" button was grayed out, which was a clear sign that Nick had started the game just for the first time, so, Kevin clicked "New Game". As he expected, an empty character creator loaded with a big prominent "+" button, probably to add a new person to the virtual household. Kevin clicked it, but instead of the character customization, a message box appeared.

"Do you want to try the new immersive mode™?"

That sounded fun. He knew that Nick had a surround system, so he guessed it was probably some kind of ambient sound design thing.

When he clicked "Yes", another message box appeared.

"How long do you want the immersive mode™ to last?"

Well, he was here all weekend so... Kevin set the timer to 48 hours.

"Bonus! For enabling immersive mode™ for 48 hours, you may select one trait to keep after."

Cool, thought Kevin. So, the game had a kind of progression system, nice touch.

He clicked "Ok" again, and was just about to start creating a character, when suddenly, the screen became exceedingly bright. Kevin had to close his eyes and felt really weird all of a sudden, a kind of pulling sensation all over his body. A few seconds later, Kevin was not there anymore, and the chair was empty.

Twenty minutes later, Nick came back from his shopping trip and entered his apartment.

"Yo, Kev! I brought enough energy for the whole weekend!"

He dropped his groceries on the kitchen table, and put the cans in the fridge, before he went to the living room.

"Hey, man, where are you?"

But there was no one. Weird. Well, he probably forgot something at home and would come back in a bit. Nick shrugged mentally and sat down in his gaming chair, cracking open a can of energy drink before looking at the screen. Had he already started the character creator? Apparently.

On the screen, standing in a featureless gray environment was an avatar. It did look kind of familiar, if he was being honest. Although it was clearly a comic-style 3D-model, it reminded him a lot of his friend Kevin. Of course, usually a shirt obscured the view of Kevin's slight belly, but the character on the screen was completely nude, safe for a pair of underwear.

The fact the avatar kind of looked like his friend didn't seem as out of the ordinary as one could think. After all, Nick had a tiny crush on his best friend - nothing too serious, but he still found him somewhat attractive - and often modelled his in-game avatars after Kevin. He just hoped that Kevin - the real Kevin - wasn't offended by him leaving the character creator open like that.

Well, since he was waiting for his friend to return anyway, he might as well finish the character creation. Nick indulged himself in the various sliders and started to change the avatars appearance. Even though a Kevin-lookalike was a good start, there were several improvements to make. He could be taller, for example. Nick found the slider and watched as the avatar morphed and grew taller.

On the other side of the screen, Kevin was unable to do anything. He was fully aware and stared at Nick's face through the screen as if it was a window, but he couldn't move. His body - his cartoony, but otherwise pretty accurate body - just stood there in his underwear and breathed. From time to time, there was a stretching idle animation, but that was about it. However, as Nick dragged the height slider, his body immediately reacted. Kevin felt a sensation of vertigo, as he grew taller in a matter of seconds. Next, Nick edited his body type. All of a sudden, his belly disappeared into a hard and flat stomach, with abdominal muscles becoming visible. Over all, his musculature expanded and became more defined, until he was fitter than Kevin ever thought he'd be. The next changes were in his face, and Kevin could only feel his facial features shifting as Nick resculpted the head to be a bit more chiseled and masculine. He was still recognizable as Kevin - but an idealized and handsome version of him.

"Wow, that's what you'd look like if you went to the gym, Kev. Damn." Nick said to himself as he clicked next. After the physical character creation, he was able to select character traits for the avatar. They were already prefilled with what looked to be pretty much Kevin's profile, which was weird. Nick was reasonably sure he hadn't been to this screen yet, and yet, the interests and settings looked a lot like they belonged to Kevin.

Well, there was no reason to change anything there, right? No, actually, one thing he should change. He looked through the traits until he found the slider he was looking for, which read 85% heterosexual right now. Yeah, no. This was his fantasy game, right? He quickly slid the slider over to 100% homosexual. There, that was more like it.

Kevin couldn't see what Nick was adjusting and felt strange for a moment. He knew something was different - but he didn't know what. Internally, he was panicking a bit. He still couldn't move and felt trapped - both inside the screen as well as within his own body. As strange as it sounded, he had somehow been sucked into the video game, and he didn't know how he could tell Nick, or how to escape this.

Nick, on the other side, decided he didn't need any more changes. He briefly considered making a second character but decided against it. Perhaps he could play a nice little dating story with the character that he simply named "Kev".

Finally, Kevi - no, Kev, was able to move again. His avatar body had been dropped into a simple flat, with cartoony looking furniture. He turned his head left and right and bobbed a bit on the spot before deciding to check out the fridge. He walked over to the cheap looking device and opened the door. Inside, there was only a flat texture of what looked like food, but he still mechanically reached inside and pulled out... a bowl of cereal, that he began to eat standing. When he was finished, he put the bowl to the ground in front of him and walked over to the PC, starting up a game.

It was clear to Kev now that he wasn't really in control. At first, it had felt like he was the one in charge, but actually, his body still acted on its own, likely controlled by some kind of algorithm. He wondered what would happen if Nick...

There it was. All of a sudden, Kev stopped playing and stood up, driven by a mighty force that controlled all of his movements. He walked over to the small bathroom and mechanically disrobed. He could basically feel the eyes of Nick on him, who had just ordered him to take a shower, watching every movement until he was completely nude.

Unlike the sams, this game sure was anatomically correct. Nick had not bothered to adjust his privates, so they looked pretty normal to him, but he was acutely aware that Nick was watching every movement he did and every swing of his cock. Still, he couldn't do anything about it as he entered the shower and felt simulated water on his skin.

He was still in the middle of his shower, when suddenly the doorbell rang. Immediately, he felt compelled to exit the shower and dress quickly, before running to the door. In front of him stood a delivery man, handing him a newspaper that Kev took automatically and put on the floor right where he was standing. The delivery guy was already back on his way to his car, but Kev ran after him. He didn't have much of a choice.

He chatted a bit with the guy and felt really connected to him after only a few minutes of talk. He laughed at his jokes and complimented his work. What was even more surprising was that he started to really find that guy... cute. He was smaller than him, now, and had a sort of twink-ish flair. Kev could feel his virtual cock stirring, which confused the hell out of him. He was straight, wasn't he?

No, of course. Nick must have changed that in the character creator. And now, he was... trying to flirt with the delivery guy.

Against his will, he started making slippery comments in the conversation and watched as the other man was flustered and blushed. Kev couldn't help but smile seductively before he leaned into a kiss.

It sure felt weird being controlled like that, but the kiss was nice, nevertheless. However, much to the dismay of his visible virtual erection, after they broke the kiss, the delivery man suddenly turned around and left. At least he had magically obtained his phone number, Kev thought as he re-entered his house.

Outside the screen, Nick couldn't help but be a bit aroused. This was clearly an adult game, and when he saw that the Kev-avatar on-screen had a boner, he felt himself chub up a bit as well. Kevin was still not there, so he could try to bring this a bit further along. He steered the avatar to the wardrobe and selected "Edit Kev" in the popup menu, after which the now familiar character creator opened. Nick was eager to see how far he could get and started adjusting sliders again. First, the muscle. In front of Nick's hungry eyes, Kev inflated from a very fit man to a true bodybuilder. His arms were stacked with muscle, and his shoulders appeared so wide they would probably clip through the environment when he was going through a door. Next was the face. Nick changed the brown color to a darker shade, fitting to handsome dark eyes. He adjusted the facial structure until the Kev on the screen had a square jaw, like an action hero, and a fitting dominant smirk. Perfect.

He zoomed out again and noticed a slider for body hair. He didn't quite put it to maximum, but far enough so that Kev's chest was covered with a layer of manly fuzz. Nick always liked hairy men, so this was just perfect. He was just about to save the appearance when he realized there was one more important setting. Yep, junk size. He quickly dragged the slider to maximum and watched as an obscene bulge grew in the avatars underwear. Nick couldn't wait to send the dude showering again so he could ogle the hefty tool.

Yeah, that was it. Nick was fondling his own bulge by now, as he clicked save. However, as he was just about to unbutton his jeans, he stopped himself. Kevin could be back any minute and he didn't want to catch him rubbing one out. Heavy hearted, he saved the game and clicked exit, but was surprised by a popup that opened.

"User 'Kev' is still in immersive mode™ for 47 hours and 22 minutes. Do you want to reproject?"

What did that mean? Reproject? Confused, Nick clicked "Yes" and almost jumped out of his chair when suddenly, the screen grew really bright and a large and manly figure materialized right in front of him, just as hot as he had just designed him, but not cartoony anymore at all. It was Kev. And, as it dawned on Nick, it was Kevin. Somehow, Kevin must have been sucked into the game and he... changed him and played with him.

Realization hit Nick hard. Kevin, in his muscular Kev form just stood there, in front of the PC and breathed heavily, but did not move, as if he was waiting for something.

"Woah, this is crazy. Fuck. Me." Nick exclaimed in confusion, and realized what he just said, when a dominant grin grew on Kev's face and he began walking towards Nick, the overly large cock already throbbing inside the underwear. Nick gulped but didn't object, although he knew that he wouldn't be able to walk properly for days to come.

It was Sunday evening when the timer hit zero. The weekend had not been filled with a single video game, but neither Kev nor Nick didn't get much sleep, either. Kev's body was a machine, in more ways than one, and the whole flat stank from the stench of sex and sweat. Finally, the screen grew bright, and a large dialog box awaited Kev.

"Congratulations, you have completed 48 hours of immersive mode™. Please select a trait to keep."

Finally, Kev was able to control his own body again. After the initial horror of something else controlling him, he had quickly found a liking to the feeling, and had the most erotic weekend of his life, as he had to watch his body fuck Nick senseless on every piece of furniture in the apartment. He wasn't even mad. It had showed him what was missing from his life, and that was, aside from the body of a Greek god with an untypically large cock, Nick. So, it wasn't a hard choice to make. Kev walked over and scrolled down until he found what he was looking for and clicked on "Orientation".

As he morphed back into his old body, he smiled at Nick, who was watching with uncertainty and fear how his friend would react to his direction of his body. Then, with a husky voice, he said:

"We should do that again next weekend, babe. I still have a lot of traits I want to keep, and I have the feeling, I'll have a lot more timing for fucking your cute little ass in the future."

I hope you enjoyed this little video game tf as much as I did! I know I certainly wouldn't mind stumbling upon a game with immersive mode™. There are some additional images of Kev in my Tip Jar.

#male transformation #muscle transformation #straight to gay #hairy

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ramblings-of-a-chaotic-neutral · 3 months

Text

Hello everyone! Thank you all for your support for the "Arthur misunderstands what a warlock is" au! Here's part two! You can find part one here!

As a quick recap, is this au Uther spread propaganda that warlocks were soul-eating demons in order to justify killing young warlocks. When Merlin finally reveals his magic to Arthur, Arthur's fairly chill with it, up until he realizes that Merlin's a warlock. Then, Arthur thinks that Merlin needs to eat souls in order to survive, and orders Merlin to kill a prisoner who was going to be executed the next day to make sure that Merlin was "fed".

And without further ado, on to the new stuff!

In the days following the... meal that Arthur had provided him, Merlin still wasn't looking any better, much to Arthur's dismay. Arthur agonized over the situation for many nights, unable to come up with any solution. They didn't have any criminals currently being held in the dungeons, and there weren't many bandits left in the woods for Merlin to feed on.

However, despite Merlin still looking tired and restless in the days following his "meal", he started to slowly look better after a week had passed, so Arthur, with a heavy heart, counted his plan as a success. Eating the criminal's soul really had reinvigorated Merlin, and wasn't that just terrible? As guilty and sick as Arthur felt about the whole situation, he could only imagine how Merlin had felt, carrying this burden for his entire life.

Merlin was such a gentle and kind soul, crying over unicorns and sick kittens! Arthur knew that this terrible burden must haunt Merlin like nothing else, being forced to devour the souls of others in order to keep himself alive.

Based on his observations over the past months, Arthur could see that Merlin never went actively hunting for prey, only waiting until an enemy of Camelot showed up for him to quietly dispatch. Arthur could see plainly that Merlin would rather starve than seek out a meal, and that most certainly was a problem.

Arthur wasn't sure what would happen if Merlin starved himself, if he would either lose control over himself and devour whatever poor souls he could find or would simply weaken and wither away, but Arthur wasn't keen on seeing such a thing happen. Merlin seemed to be able to go several weeks in between feedings, and there generally was one execution a month with how many bandits, assassins, and vengeful sorcerers came to Camelot, so if he...

Arthur swallowed dryly as guilt and self-disgust welled up in this throat. He... he didn't want to do this. Hell, he knew that Merlin surely wouldn't want to do this, even if it is for his sake!

But what other choice did he have? As awful as it was to admit it, Merlin's life meant far more to Arthur than any enemy's soul. If Merlin wasn't going to actively seek out souls, then Arthur had to hand them over to him, whether Merlin liked it or not.

Meanwhile, Merlin wasn't having a very good time.

He had thought that he was prepared for any negative reaction from Arthur to the news of his magic. And Arthur had been so accepting of Merlin's magic when they finally sat down together and talked about everything! Arthur had even become accustomed to seeing Merlin use magic for his chores! Arthur was comfortable with him, magic and all!

But Merlin had been so, so naive and hopeful. He had hoped that showing Arthur the softer, more mundane uses of magic would give him a new perspective on magic, teaching him that magic was not just the fearsome weapon that Arthur had been raised and conditioned to view it as.

And Merlin had thought that he was doing so well. Arthur didn't so much as bat an eye when Merlin used magic to scrub the floors or polish his armor! Arthur was comfortable with eating magically-heated food and sleeping in clothes covered in protection enchantments!

Arthur was clearly still comfortable with Merlin, and he still trusted Merlin! Merlin had shown him the softer side of magic, and yet...

Yet Arthur had taken him down into the dungeons and ordered him to execute a prisoner with his magic.

Arthur had looked him dead in the eyes and told him to kill the imprisoned noble in cold blood, and then was too disgusted with Merlin to even watch as his loyal manservant carried out his orders, harshly twisting the noble's neck with a simple spell.

Merlin couldn't fall asleep that night. Every time he closed his eyes, he either saw the noble's blank, dead stare or, even worse, Arthur's stern expression as he ordered Merlin to take a life with his magic.

It wasn't the first time Merlin had killed someone with his magic, not by far, but it was the first time he had done so outside of battle, on an unarmed enemy. It was the first time he had killed on Arthur's orders, and he wasn't sure who he was more disappointed in: Arthur or himself.

But the worst part of it all was that it proved Merlin wrong: he hadn't made as much progress with improving Arthur's opinion of magic as he had thought.

Arthur clearly still thought of magic and now, by extension, Merlin himself as a weapon, one that could be harnessed against his enemies. One that had been used against his enemies for years, without his knowledge.

Merlin felt helplessly stuck. He had done all he could to show Arthur how wonderful magic could be, yet the only use Arthur saw for it was as an executioner's blade!

Was that truly the only use Arthur saw for Merlin now that he knew the truth? The very thought of it hurt, it made Merlin want to curl up on his bed and sob and never have to face the world ever again.

Still, despite Arthur ordering Merlin to execute a man with his magic, Merlin persisted in his efforts to show Arthur the more wonderous side of magic. He doubled down on showing Arthur all of the useful littler enchantments that he knew and all of the beautiful things he could create with his magic.

And once again, for several weeks Merlin had thought that he was making progress! That was, until an assassin targeting Arthur was caught by the knights and sentenced to die the next day.

That night, when Arthur sent for Merlin, he knew exactly what Arthur wanted.

Once again, Merlin slowly followed Arthur down to the dungeons, he was fighting tears the entire way down. Was this supposed to be his punishment for lying to Arthur for ten years? Forcing him to commit atrocities with the magic he was trying so hard to show was not a thing to be feared?

Arthur slowly led him to the same cell as before, with the assassin tied to a chair in the middle, just as the noble had been. Merlin turned to Arthur with tears in his eyes, only to be met with grim determination from his king.

"Please," he nearly sobbed out, hoping his friend would take pity on him, "please, I don't want to do this. My mag- I'm not meant to do this. This is not what I was made for, what I was born to do."

Merlin thought that he saw tears gathering in Arthur's eyes as well for a split second, but they were gone in an instant, replaced with cold determination.

"I know that you don't want to do this, but despite what any of us may wish, this is what you are meant to do, Merlin. You must do this."

Merlin lowered and shook his head slowly, unable, or perhaps unwilling, to process the awful things that Arthur was saying. How could he possibly think that? He really did think so low of Merlin that he would claim all Merlin was good for was for, all his magic was good for, was senseless violence.

"No, Arthur, I won't- I can't do this!"

Merlin looked up again, ready to plead with Arthur, to try and make him see reason, only to see Arthur at the door of the cell, blocking the only exit.

"I'm sorry, Merlin." Arthur's voice was thick with sorrow and remorse, and Merlin didn't know why. Why was Arthur doing this? Why would he feel so remorseful over something that was completely unnecessary?! Merlin stared at his friend in shock and disbelief as Arthur cleared his throat and spoke again.

"I'm sorry, but you need to do this. Neither of us are leaving until it's done."

Merlin choked back more sobs and slowly turned to face the prisoner, wondering how Arthur could be so cruel.

Merlin made the deed itself quick, not wanting to make this any longer than it needed to be for everyone involved. A simple flash of gold in his eyes, and the assassin was dead.

Merlin was unable to sleep that night, too haunted by the anger in Arthur's eyes to find any rest.

What was perhaps even more disturbing for Merlin was Arthur's insistence on still acting normal, like nothing was wrong at all, in the days following the execution. Arthur's willful avoidance of the topic was confusing and frustrating in equal amounts.

Still, Merlin continued serving Arthur. He had to hold out hope that things would get better, that Arthur would learn that magic was more than just violence. What other choice did he have? He had gotten this far with his destiny, he couldn't stop now, not when they were so close to the golden age!

The weeks went on, and Merlin thought he saw more improvement in Arthur's opinion of magic, but doubt was always present. Merlin held his breath now whenever Arthur sentenced criminals, praying that none of them would be sentenced to execution, as he knew what would happen next.

However, as more weeks went by and no executions were scheduled, Merlin slowly let himself relax. Perhaps Arthur had seen reason after all!

Merlin carried this hope with him into the spring, which brought with it more frequent hunting trips and patrols. And when he and Arthur went on a hunting trip or a patrol, trouble was always found.

In their current situation, "trouble" took the form of an angry Sidhe, which still held a grudge against Merlin for murdering two of their own and ruining their plans to take over Camelot.

The good news was that Merlin was able to beat the Sidhe, banishing it back to Avalon. The bad news was that the Sidhe had managed to land a rather powerful spell on Merlin, which left him with several broken bones and various injuries.

Merlin groaned where he laid prone on the ground, glad to see that everyone else was unharmed, but unable to ignore the pain burning throughout his body. Anyone else would have probably died from his injuries, but even now he could feel his magic mending his bones and flesh. But despite his magic already trying to heal him, everything hurt like hell.

As Merlin tried to sit up, Arthur rushed over to his side, supporting him as his back protested his every movement. Merlin smiled at Arthur gratefully, trying to alleviate his friend's worry, but he soon became concerned that Arthur took a blow to the head while fighting, as Arthur started rambling nonsense at him.

"Merlin! You haven't eaten in week! It's no wonder you got so hurt, you've been starving yourself you idiot! You... you'll recover, right? You have enough energy and magic to heal yourself?"

Merlin groaned in pain as he tried to make sense of what Arthur was saying. What did it mater how long it had been since he ate?

"I- I can recover, yes. My magic is doing all it can for me right now, but it'll be slow. I'll probably be fine, I've come back from worse."

Merlin tried to give Arthur his most reassuring grin, but Arthur only paled further.

"But you were... you say that your magic is doing all that it can, but it can't fully heal you right now, can it? You need..."

Merlin watched, confused, as Arthur paused to blink back tears. What on earth was going on?

"You need to eat, Merlin. And there's no- there's no bandits, no assassins, no criminals anywhere around for us to use but you need one!"

Merlin just stared at Arthur, still unable to grasp what was going on. He glanced behind Arthur at the knights, and while Gwaine, Elyan, and Percival looked just as lost as he felt, all of the other knights looked upon Merlin and Arthur with looks of shocked horror.

"Arthur, what are you-"

"No, this needs to be done. Merlin, Camelot needs you. I know that we face much adversity despite accepting magic now, and Camelot needs its greatest protector. There will only ever be one Emrys. But a king? A king is replaceable. Should I fall, Gwen will take my place, and I have np doubts that she will be a fair, just, and wise sovereign for Camelot.

It is fitting, as I have condemned others to this fate for the sake of my kingdom, that I should bare the same end."

"What are you even talking about?! Did you hit your head while I wasn't looking?"

Arthur shook his head, tears now flowing freely down his cheeks. Yup, Merlin decided, Arthur definitely had a concussion. He'd have to get Gaius to check him over once they returned to Camelot.

"No, Merlin, please stop denying the situation. You need a soul to eat if you're going to recover, and I am offering you my own!"

Merlin blinked, wondering if perhaps he was the one that had a concussion instead of Arthur. Because there was no way that he had heard that correctly.

Following Arthur's tearful outburst, Leon rushed forwards, grabbing ahold of a weeping Arthur's shoulders. Good, Merlin thought, Leon was a very sensible man, he would surely make Arthur see reason!

"No, sire! You can't! The kingdom needs you just as much as it needs Merlin! I will offer myself in your place! Merlin, you must take my soul instead!"

... Or not.

Had everyone hit their heads? Perhaps the Sidhe had cast some madness-inducing spell before he had banished it? And why were they going on about souls?

"Hold on now, what are talking about? Why would I be taking anyone's soul?"

Leon and Arthur stared blankly at him, as if he was the one spewing nonsense, until Leon cleared his throat and responded in a hesitant voice, "But... but isn't that how warlocks like you fuel their powers?"

There was a brief pause as the air held still before Merlin finally forced words past his dumbfounded lips.

"YOU IDIOTS THOUGHT I DID WHAT?!"

And that's a wrap on this au for now! Thank you all for your support and your patience! This turned out to be much longer than I anticipated!

A big thank you to everyone who requested this continuation! I'll try to tag you all here, my apologizes if I forget anyone, there were quite a few of you! @veryroadpartystatesman-blog, @cinnabon-sweetroll-tiramisu, @that-nerd-who-writes-fanfiction, @keitorin3, @chaosofbelievers, @stateofdreaming14, @melodymeddler, @arrowlovesdragons, @notquitehumanwrites, @caraspud, @ikol-art, @linotheghost, @murder-drones-4ever, @error-username-not-available, @theroundbartable, @magicalmischel, @skatercashew, @xxv2axx, @tobythetrashytrash, @auldsusie, @everything-but-the-not-natural, @ramadiiiisme, @idk-anymore-mydudes, @tamaha, @kissme-withyour-cherrylipstick, @merthurogies

Once again, thank you all for exploring this au with me! I'll be back soon with a new au idea! Until next time!

And, as always, thank you for reading through my ramblings! :D

#bbc merlin #merlin #arthur pendragon #merlin bbc #merlin au #merthur #merlin prompts

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chainelunaire · 5 months

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love languages

gojo satoru

recieving: words of affirmation/acts of service. he's completely fine being far away for a long periods of time, him being the strongest takes a lot. however, he greatly appreciates direct attention to his persona, and not necessarily in a sexual way. i'd say, expecially not in a sexual way. he feels loved when you talk your literal worst thoughts to him, when you express everything that goes through your mind. the most non-judgemental person one could ever met, he would never blame someone he loves for some dark thoughts, he's all here for it. he likes when you tell him directly how much you care, and even if it's worded quite rough, he'll still take it. that way he feels like he means something. he'll never feel enough of your thoughts, and of course, he won't ever be satisfied with how much you praise him. however much, he always craves more. he also appreciates every litlle thing his loved ones do for him. it might look like he doesn't notice sometimes, with him acting this nonchalant. but knowing how perceptive he is, he really does notice everything.

giving: physical touch/acts of service. he's very touchy, sometimes it feels like he needs to touch more than he needs breathing. he literally explores the world with his fingerpads. it's his first instinct - to hug, when you feel bad, to kiss to make it better. he's just as innocent as a child when he expresses his love through touch and without thinking. he will kiss the pain away, he will do your hair and hold your hand - honestly, he's the sweetest when he does such things out of heart. he also enjoys helping his love ones out whenever he can - granted, he's often away, but he does what he can. he rarely complains about chores in his home, in some way he even loves to do them. makes him closer to the ones he loves. he's very simple in that sense, he enjoys simple things in life. do not tell him he's the strongest. he knows that already. however, you might hug him and say that you're so grateful he did the dishes today - and he will be so happy, he'll do them more often just to hear you saying it every time.

geto suguru

recieving: quality time. he feels loved when he feels welcomed, when someone wants his company. moreover, he himself is very social, caring person, who does poor job at being alone. he loves people, loves to spend time with his loved ones, it comes natural to him to care about his family and friends - he's not a loner at his core. so even when alone time are needed of course, in his case, he really lights up from inside when someone is seeking for him to specifically spend some time together. he doesn't really care how you will spend this time, you needing him and standing by his side is what matters to him. call him after midnight - and he will always pick up that call and join you wherever you want. he will be by your side at your grandma's party laughing at her stupid jokes, he'll go shopping with you. he'll help you with laundry and taxes. he will never ever turn yhis loved ones down, no matter how boring or stupid you think the whole thing is. just show him that you really want him near you.

giving: words of affirmation. he's so good, it's unfair. he has this natural talent of finding the right words. he's also great with timing, he reads the room perfectly (probably the second best). there's no such thing as 'i didn't mean to say that', he only says what he has carefully thought of. likes to give instructions, it's one of his ways to show that he cares. very verbal and talkative, when in his natural habitat. he's generous with his praise, he believes in letting people now how good they are (if he really thinks so). and even if not, he will always find something to say to you. such a smooth talker, he will now every one of your secrets without you realising. not to mention he's like an ariel the little mermaid with his sweet soothing voice, it's just nice to hear him saying things.

nanami kento

recieving: quality time. goes without any saying, he values quality time above all else. he too feels very loved when someone seeks his presence. unlike geto, he's doing way better by himself and he's really fine being alone, it's just that he prefers not to be alone (even if he states otherwise). sometimes he finds it amusing, because he often is so tired, he has no fun activities to offer, therefore he's wondering why even seek for his company. sometimes he may think of himself as too stern or even boring, he has some insecurities. but he's very happy, when you express that you want to spend some time together, he's subconsciously waiting for it. he's very unassuming and he never like... expects you to want to spend time with him. so when that happens, he's ready to do whatever, just so it lasts longer.

giving: quality time/physical touch. he just kinda wants to be near his loved ones all the time, can you blame him really. he's very chill with quality time, but sometimes he wonders if you get annoyed with him. like you know when you want to spend time with someone and at some point you'd be like okay that's enough i need some alone time - well, never happens with him. he fears to look desperate so much, he's always so quiet. like there's no possibility to get tired of spending time with him, because most of the times it's just existing in the same room, and that's enough. very laid back and casual, his whole presence if very relaxing and calm. physical touch is very sweet and comforting too - like sleeping together on a sofa on a rainy day, holding you by the shoulder when going through the crowd. it's more out of wanting to protect rather than something else.

fushiguro toji

recieving: words of affirmation. i'm actually very sad about him, his relationship with affection is rooted in such tragedy. he needs praise more than he's willing to admit. of course, him being traumatized to the core plays a crucial role in it; he'd never heard that he's doing well, that he's good. anything that is not insult or a joke in some way. i think he could get burned once or twice because of how easily he could be manipulated. he's actually very wary of people being kind to him, but he can't fight himself when it's somebody being parcticularly kind to him and being verbal with this kindness. it's his vulnerable spot, and he can't do anything about it, falling for it every time. for instance, his first wife was very good with her words, bringing him comfort and safe place withing her company. he very much needs the praise and insctructions how to do... basically anything in his life. not because he's helpless, not at all. but because that's what love is to him, to care enought to let him know what to do, and when he does it, telling him he was good. it's insane to witness what it does to him, how visibly happier he looks.

giving: acts of service/quality time. he does everything he can, that's it. what he doesn't know how to do, he'll learn. he's great with predicting what you need, the absolute best at reading the room quickly. for instance, he rarely needs to know your face expression to know that you're mad (not necessarily at him), he knows it by the way your feet stomp on the floor (yet another oh so useful skill from a loving former household). he prefers to prevent the explosion than to deal with it. he has a mental list what he can do to make you feel better. it's almost like he proves himself every time (and it's a rather sad view, especially at first). with time he relaxes. when he's not in his proving mode anymore, he still helps whenever he can, but in a more chill way. that's when his wish to just spend more time together comes. usually it's just coexisting, but sometimes he'll think of few ways to make time more fun and exciting. he's willing to spend some money on a fancy place from time to time. and he can be surprisingly creative.

ryomen sukuna

recieving: quality time. never the one to miss the opportunity to learn something new, he's actually a great companion for a good talk or sparring (not recommended, in this case you might end up dead). while he's good being all alone, he genuinely enjoys a good company. he won't seek for one himself, but he's willing to accept the offer. surprisingly, he has a lot to give, you just need to find the right words. he's extremely intelligent (probably the most out of all), and he expects from his companions the same level of intelligence, otherwise why bother? he knows a lot about art and culture, he pays his respects to literature and especially poetry. you can always learn something new from him, and he likes when someone listens to him, like actually listens and takes everything he says to heart. when in a mood, he's up for a debate: if you can handle it, he'll be amused and even glad. as long as you are interesting to him, you're fine. he doesn't like boring stuff, that's what you need to think about. the thing is, he's not the one to waste his time on someone he doesn't treasure in one way or another, so when he does accept an offer to spend time together, it already shows his rather warm feelings towards you.

giving: gift giving/words of affirmation. because of his appreciation for culture, everything he gifts is carefully thought of and has it's meaning. if he chooses to gift something, let it be the best. he won't give such treasures to anyone, he saves it for the ones he respects (basically the equivalent of care in his mind). be it some book, weapon, clothes or some art piece, it truly means something to him. and because of his erudition, he expects you to understand everything he wanted to say with this gift. it really is some sort of language to him, you can say so much without saying anything. he likes to hear your opinion on them, he expects you to discuss them with him later. another thing, while he doesn't like to express himself verbally that much, he's actually good at doing it. he's generous with praise, it's more of a deserved-not deserved case to him. becuse he's so skillfull and knowleadgeable, he's not insecure in a sense that he'll withhold praise bc he doesn't want to come off as soft. he really doesn't care. in some weird way, he almost wants you to be better than him in whatever field you discuss. so when he feels like you deserve the praise, he will give it to you. and his praise hits just right, even when he doesn't say much.

itadori yuji

recieving: physical touch/gift giving. oh, how much he loves those hugs, i can't even tell you. he loves to initiate them, but the greatest joy of his is when someone he loves does this first. he feels so loved when someone ruffles his hair, fixes his uniform for him, covers him, when he's taking naps. he literally feels warm from the inside. maybe because it reminds him of his granddad and the fact that he's still not alone. he's still so young, going through so much, and he finds that he feels secure when someone holds him really tight. it's like a heavy blanket to him, like nothing bad could happen in that moment. also, he cherishes everything that has ever given to him. no matter how trashy it is, even if it's just a candy wrapper, he'll cherish it, if it's from someone he loves. he enjoys recieving those little sometimes meaningless things. they matter a lot to him. they bring his loved ones closer, like there's some physical evidence this was real.

giving: words of affirmation. while he's great at almost everything, his greatest power is finding the right words for every person he loves. he says everything kindly, easily, in a very lighthearted manner. never ever you will hear him being rude even by mistake. he's borderline unable to hurt anybody with his words, he's just that good. he's not the one to give a long profound speech, he's very simple yet very impactful. his words would have a longlasting effect even without him realising it. never prepares anything he wants to say in his head (as yuta or geto), a force of nature. he doesn't really say much, when he's not blabbering about something silly. in a serious setting he gets noticeably more quiet. not only that, but he really knows when not to say anything. his silence is very telling. he knows how to make that silence soothing and comforting, or deeply uncomfortable, depends on a situation.

fushiguro megumi

recieving: quality time/words of affirmation. he's very simple, he likes to spend time with his loved ones, and he loves hearing them speak (especially about him). he desperately tries to hide that fact though. he wants to be cool and unaffected, but in reality he's very sensible and reactive. he doesn't understand that that's what everyone love about him. so when he gets praised, it's such a fun scene, like you can see he clearly enjoys it, but still tries to act cool about it. he also likes to just hang around people he loves, he never turns down an offer to spend time together (even when he acts like he'd rather be home than here). however, he really likes some meaningful quality time, so if not you, he'll think of some ways himself. he doesn't like doing 'stupid things', it takes a lot to convince him to participate. it's good for him though, it relaxes him a lot more than he's willing to admit.

giving: quality time/acts of service. i'll be honest, he's not very creative with his ways to spend time. he's almost too serious (he has his reasons, obv), so what he suggests is usually 'let's do homework together', something like that. do not turn down that offer - he'll make it really worth it. not only is he a very comforting to be around, usually being the calmest person in a room, he'll also make it a very... nice experience. he'll prepare you the best tea he has, he'll bake you cookies to snack on while studying, he'll bring out the blankets. he'll ask you if you feel comfortable every five minutes, apparently. he'll tell some stories he never told anyone, he'll ask gojo-sensei to light the fireplace, if you feel cold. you may notice that at home even gojo also gets quieter around him - almost everything is much slower and softer. he very much enjoys these peaceful moments. and he likes to share them only with the ones he truly cherishes.

okkotsu yuta

recieving: words of affirmation/physical touch. he needs a lot of reassurance in his life, he really does. and he's not one for subtle gestures, he needs to really feel it - he needs to feel like somebody holds him safe and sound, he needs to hear that somebody understands him the way he is. he has a lot of dark, dark thoughts, and when someone is able to reassure him that these thoughts are normal, that he's still worthy, that even the best of people have something dark in them - that's when he feels appreciated and loved. he lives on praise, and, like gojo, is very openminded. he actually likes to hear everything you have to say to him, even if it's not necessarily good.

giving: words of affirmation/physical touch. has a silver tongue, never slips up. everything in his head is played so well, the words he says are always on point. bc he's so openminded, he can see everything from different points of view, so he comes of as a very understanding. nothing you say can throw him off, he'll listen to everything and he'll say his word. he knows the power he holds, actually, but he rarely uses it, because usually he's just shy. it's more of a last option to him. he saves it for the rare people he treasures the most - like his friends, sensei, etc. - around who he already feels free and appreciated. he much prefers to show his affection in more physical ways. he doesn't necessarily like to hold hands, it takes a lot to him to trust like that, but he can rub someone's back or offer a massage - and he's great at it. he also kinda subconciously usually stands or sits really close, so the shoulders are touching. he also likes to rest his head on your lap, when he's now really close to you. however, he really tries not to make other person uncomfortable, but, to be fair, almost all of his touches are featherlight and completely innocent. it's just a comfortable way to him to express himself.

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