#he gets so roped up in his sense of responsibility that he not only pushes himself and runs himself to the ground | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

roscolate · 9 months ago

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GAHHHHHHH THIS HURT 😭😭😭

Summer Rain

AO3 link!

~~~

There’s nothing quite like falling ten feet to the ground and landing flat on one’s back to bring a person back into reality. When he came to, Mario’s first reaction was relief. Rest, finally. Everything burned. His throat, his lungs, his muscles, his stomach. His ears rang and his head spun and his vision created doubles of every last block and obstacle overhead, and at long last, he was free to simply lay in the grass and observe passively.

As with all good things, it didn't last.

Get up.

The all-too-familiar voice, maybe his own and maybe some divine call from the universe, repeated these words in his head, but he couldn’t make his muscles obey. He could hardly breathe; air returned to him in unsteady gasps, and with each one, his short-lived relief melted further and further into frustration.

Get up. Something gurgled in his throat that was neither air nor bile, and the taste of copper coated his tongue. Get up. How had he slipped? He’d run this training gauntlet hundreds of times, if not thousands, in the past weeks. Had he grown complacent? Get up. This was no time for complacency. No time for failure. Get up, get up, get up.

“Mario!” He registered the cry of his name the same way he registered the pain in his spine or the ache in his limbs or the muted yet near-constant growling of his gut: with little more than passing acknowledgement. He knew he was hurt. He knew he was hungry. He knew someone was calling out to him. He didn’t care. His only concern was get up, get up, get up, sit up, stand up, get back to training.

Get back to her.

“Mario?”

Just as soon as he’d pulled himself to his knees, dizziness overtook Mario, and he barely caught himself on his hands, his arms shaking from the effort to support his weight. Her voice. All it took was the ghost of her voice to sap his fight, drain the furor that fueled him, until he was empty, empty, empty.

She wasn’t— he knew she wasn’t— and yet she— she sounded so near—

“Oh, Mario,” Peach sighed, pressing a gloved hand to her cheek, “what am I going to do? If I have to sit through one more unproductive commission on import tax rates, I think I’m going to scream.”

Mario chuckled sympathetically. “So I’m guessing third time wasn’t the charm after all?”

“I thought surely the senators would be just as sick of all the arguing as I am by now. Sadly, I’m fairly certain they enjoy it.” Another sigh. “So a fourth commission has been scheduled for Thursday.”

Thursday. Mario wracked his head for upcoming happenings, possible excuses, any circumstance he could twist in her favor, and he found it in short order.

“Hmm… it sure is a shame you won’t be there for that meeting, Princess.”

Peach halted in her tracks, and Mario stopped alongside her, meeting her confusion with pointed nonchalance.

“I… won’t be?”

“You didn’t forget, did you? That play in Mushroom City you were invited to? That’s Thursday night, yeah?”

Peach shook her head. “Mario, I’d hardly call a letter written in crayon by a child begging me to attend their Kindergarten theatre production an ‘invitation.’ More of a… um…” A pause. The realization clicked into place, her bright eyes glowing ever brighter in the twilight, and she graced Mario with a sly, cheerful smile. “Well, how many children have the courage to write to the castle directly? It would be rude to turn such a thoughtful invitation down.”

“My thoughts exactly!” He nudged her side, winking up at her. “Now, I know you’d rather sit and listen to grouchy old Toads shout over each other all day, but we all have to make sacrifices sometimes, yeah?”

“Heavy is the head that wears the crown.” A very un-regal giggle slipped her lips, juvenile in its conniving yet ethereal all the same, and Mario couldn’t help but feel especially proud of himself. “So we’ll meet at the carriage hold Thursday at dawn, then? Plenty enough time to escape before Toadsworth catches on.”

Her proposal didn’t surprise him; it had become customary, after all, to act as her guard any time she ventured beyond the palace walls. This made her invitation no less sacred to him. “You can count on me, Princess.”

Peach took a moment to breathe in the fresh spring evening, exhale her worries, and as their walk resumed, her hand found his, small and light but present and real and warm. “Oh, Mario,” she laughed, “you’re my hero!”

You’re my hero…

Another rush of oxygen hit his brain, and she was gone once more. Memories of golden hair in the waning light of sunset were washed out in smudges of green and brown and red — his fingers digging into the earth, damp from a recent summer rain, a trickle of blood dripping from his bottom lip onto the backs of his hands.

Some hero he was.

A familiar pressure welled within his chest, and he huffed in relief. Anger. It made his heart pump harder and brought his surroundings back into focus and flooded him with unbearable energy, and he was finally able to clamor to his feet, spitting blood so he could breathe properly. Turning towards the gauntlet’s nearest springboard, he wiped his sleeve over his mouth and let that rage consume him once more, let himself believe again that it wasn’t rage at all, but hope. Hope in its rawest, most painful form.

She was counting on him. He would bring her home. He would have pleasant evening walks in the gardens with her again, he would laugh with her over tea and cakes, he would ensure no similar misfortune ever befell her again. Maybe he would even tell her that he loved her, just so he could say he no longer held any secrets from her. And until that day came, he would train and train and train until no force, earthly or cosmic, could stand in his way.

How could you let this happen?

That fragile illusion of hope burst into flames, its fire coursing through Mario’s veins, but now that he was on his feet again, he made no further effort to fool himself. With a final, sharp breath, he lunged forward—

“Basta così!”

Something caught his left wrist, and the unexpected intrusion snuffed Mario’s fire, like water tossed on a blazing bed of coals. He clenched his jaw and smoldered uselessly for a moment, quivering with unspent energy, giving his captor a chance to free him without provocation. The grasp ensnaring him only tightened.

“Lasciami andare, Lu.” He kept his voice as steady as possible, deathly quiet and low, because he knew it would shake if he raised it any louder, and he couldn’t afford to be perceived as weak.

“No.” Luigi’s voice was equally unwavering. “I’ve let this go on long enough. You’re coming home.”

Mario scoffed. Oh, now his timid little brother was choosing to stand his ground. Now, of all times, for all purposes—! He lurched forward to free himself. He didn’t have time for such games.

Luigi moved with him easily, and before Mario could reestablish his footing, he was yanked backwards by the arm so hard that his vision went blurry and his legs briefly gave out beneath him.

But he didn’t have time to collapse. Luigi powered ahead, and Mario was forced to twist his body in the same direction and stumble along behind him, and by the time his surroundings stopped shifting they were well past the athletic center’s gate and into the streets of Toad Town.

What in the Eight Realms was going on? His brother was strong, but he was stronger. It should have been easy to pull free or at least anchor himself and force an impasse, but he wouldn’t slow down.

“Let me go, Luigi,” he repeated in their mother tongue, half so the dozens of Toads craning their stubby necks as he was dragged past couldn’t eavesdrop and half because his grasp on the English language was one of the first things to go when he was upset.

“You really think I’m that useless?” Luigi didn’t even look over his shoulder as he responded in the same tongue, yet his voice pierced through the ambiance of the streets. “I don’t need a missing friend and a dead brother.”

Another white-hot burst of fury flared within Mario, and he tried once again to break free (once again, to no avail). Useless? A “missing friend”? A princess — their Princess! — was abducted by a notoriously homicidal warlord who promised to kill her and seize her kingdom by force unless he was met with unconditional surrender, and all his brother cared about was how he was perceived? How these events affected him?

Mario was the only living person with any chance of bringing her home safely, or at least alive. He’d devoted himself to that cause wholeheartedly and without hesitation. Fought and trained and redefined himself over the past two months while waiting for royal spies to figure out where she was actually being held. He’d never thought Luigi to be so selfish, that he’d stand in his way. That he’d sooner trade Peach’s life for his. Did she really mean that little to him? The very thought nauseated him. Or maybe those were hunger pangs.

They arrived at their shared cottage in short order, and Mario spit one last mouthful of blood into the grass before he could be dragged onto the porch and through the door. This wasn’t just selfish. This was betrayal of the highest order.

Luigi all but tossed him inside, and only then did he let go. Mario seethed at his green-and-blue-clad back as he shut and locked the door, rubbing his wrist absentmindedly, stimulating the once-restricted blood flow. Betrayed by the last person he would ever have suspected. The one person who should have been supporting him, who he’d thought already was supporting him before today. He held his internal fire close at bay, ready to make his disappointment and disapproval clear, and with a heavy sigh, Luigi turned to face him—

“This isn’t your fault, Mario.”

Mario’s belligerence fizzled out. Where there was once fire, there was now ice, still and cold.

“...What?”

“This isn’t your fault.” Luigi enunciated each word carefully as he approached his older brother. “N-no one blames you for this except for you. So you’re not proving anything to anyone by torturing yourself, bro, okay?”

For a long moment, all Mario could do was gape in bewilderment. Not once since the Princess’ abduction had a word been uttered about blame. There was no need, he'd just as quickly assumed: anyone with two functioning brain cells knew exactly who was to blame, and verbalizing accusations wouldn’t get her home any faster, so he bore his cross with a heavy heart and his head held high.

Even Luigi had never spoken up on the matter. Mario just assumed that meant he agreed. Why bother kicking someone that’s already down?

“I-I…” Mario swallowed. No. No, he was lying. Reality was sinking in and he was lying in a last-ditch effort to defend what hadn’t already been lost. He knew just as well as Mario that… and yet he…

Selfish. Selfish, selfish, selfish.

“I’m her guard, Luigi,” he finally answered, and unpleasant but ever-familiar heat rose once more within him, making his face and ears tingle. “It’s my job to protect her! Literally my job!”

“Yeah, during the day! But you’re acting like she was nabbed under your watch! You’re acting like everyone expects you to be on guard twenty-four-seven!” He drew closer to lay a hand on Mario’s left shoulder; what should have been comfortable and familiar instead felt foreign and cumbersome. “The truth is, you were exactly where you were supposed to be when it happened: in bed, conked out.”

A strike of lightning couldn’t have hit as hard as those words.

Mario jerked away from his brother’s touch, nostrils flared, breath coming to him far too quickly now. If he grit his teeth any tighter, he was certain they’d crack. Yes, he’d been asleep that night. He’d protected his Princess like always during the day and left her to fend for herself at sundown and he’d never forgive himself for it. So much for not kicking someone while they’re down.

“Thanks,” he huffed. “Very helpful reminder.”

“Mario, that’s not what—” Luigi sagged backwards, his eyes rolling to the ceiling in exasperation, as if he was the one who’d been slighted, and he cursed beneath his breath before refocusing. “She was never your sole responsibility. Everyone knows that but you. And no one wants to see you run yourself into the ground like this. Th-they trust you! They love you! Seeing how much guilt you're drowning in, seeing how badly you’re hurting, that hurts them, and—”

A deep, shaking breath. Mario tapped his foot impatiently, his fists clenched.

“A-and it hurts me too!" Luigi finally confessed. "Mario, you’re not the only victim here! How do you think I’ve been handling all of this?”

“Forget about that!” Mario fired back. “Just imagine what she’s going through! Can you think about something other than yourself for once and look at the bigger picture?!”

Alarms sounded deep in the recesses of his brain, warning signals, crying a mantra of Too far, too far, too far. He didn’t care. He couldn’t afford to care.

“She wouldn’t want this either! If she was here—”

That was the final straw. Putting words in the Princess’ mouth— what little patience or composure Mario still held, already stretched thin, snapped.

“Well she’s not!” He stamped his foot like a child throwing a tantrum, grasping Luigi’s arm and forcing him to look directly into his eyes. “Don’t— don’t you dare tell me what she’d say or what she’d do! You don’t have that right! Because you’re not her, and she’s not…”

Mario blinked. Had… had Luigi always looked this tired? His eyes, normally so cheerful and blue, appeared dull and gray, wide with regret and brimming with unshed tears. And there were bags under those eyes too, and overgrown flyaways poking through his normally well-groomed mustache, and…

“...here.” All of his bravado, all of his energy, left him as he whispered that final word.

How long had it been since he’d fulfilled his role as the older brother? Peach was Luigi’s friend too. He was every bit as much Mario's responsibility as Peach was.

“I don’t need a missing friend and a dead brother.”

Only in the ensuing stillness did Mario realize how terribly he shook. He felt both weightless and impossibly leaden, cold and clammy, trembling not in outrage or determination, but something far meeker, far more pathetic: fear.

He was no hero. He was an idiot who’d failed someone he claimed to love and was desperate to make things right, no matter the personal cost. He was a useless brother that dealt with his own inadequacies by lashing out at those who cared for him most. He was nothing.

“Weegee…”

Luigi swallowed, taking a deep, slow breath before responding. “Martyring yourself isn’t the answer. I mean, think for a minute here. You can’t save her if you get yourself killed first.”

It overtook Mario again, a wave of unwelcome emotion, and his knees wobbled beneath him, threatening to buckle.

“Then… then what do you suggest I do? Huh? Clearly you have more answers than I do! So tell me what to do!” He let go of Luigi’s arms to grasp his overall straps and pull him down, searching his face for those fabled answers. There was no spite in his words or his actions. He shouted at and jostled his brother not in anger, but in pure helplessness. “Tell me what to do!”

The uncertainty etched into Luigi’s face didn’t go away completely, but he buried it beneath something harder, more determined. He braced his gloved hands against Mario’s shoulders, grounding and steady.

“I’ll tell you exactly what you’re going to do,” he said, his voice low yet firm. “You’re going to sit right there on that couch, or on the floor, or wherever you feel like, and you’re gonna cry and scream and get all of this pent-up anger out of your system. And then — look at me, Mario, listen!” He jostled the elder brother back, shaking his shoulders. “Then you’re going to eat something. Okay?” He smiled then, the strain of it contorting his face into some pitiful mimicry of humor. “We can’t have you wasting away when the Princess sees you again, yeah? What would she say?”

Mario’s breath hitched in his throat, suddenly swollen shut.

What would she say? Maybe she would rush forward and cup his cheeks, demanding to know what happened and if he was alright, as if he was the one who had been swept away in the dead of night. Maybe she would be so exhausted and so weakened that she didn’t notice; maybe she would only have the strength to smile as he took her battered body into his arms, her face pale but her eyes vibrant. Maybe her gaze would be glassy and there would be nothing left to hold but an empty shell that had once been his best friend, her fate sealed the moment she’d chosen to place her trust in him.

Or maybe he would die long before he reached her. If only he could trust anyone else to save her, he would have been perfectly fine with that outcome. It was the least he deserved. But that would be far too easy, wouldn’t it? What would become of her then? What would become of Luigi?

He would be free of his suffering, and it would fall directly onto their shoulders instead.

How could you let this happen?

The breath trapped in his throat forced its way back out, some mix between a cough and a hiccup, and finally his knees gave out. He held on tighter and sunk his face into his twin’s shirt collar, and he tried to apologize, he tried to beg forgiveness, but the only sound he could produce was a breathless, almost primal whine.

“Ecco.” Luigi’s voice cracked yet remained soft as he sank to the ground with him, cradling his head close. “Sfogati. Ti sono vicino, fratello.”

Mario’s intended response came out once more as a whine. Ti voglio bene. Ho paura. Aiutami. Ti prego aiutami. Each effort to speak proved increasingly futile until he gave up entirely, surrendering to the wordless screams and sobs and tears his overworked, underfed body forced from him. And Luigi just held him, his fingers brushing through his hair as he fell apart.

Thunder rumbled distantly outside, heralding another summer rain.

~~~

“I’m sorry.”

By the time Mario was able to speak, he still didn’t have much to show for it; his voice was too hoarse to do anything but whisper, and the pounding ache in his head prevented him from doing even that very well.

Luigi shushed him, readjusting his head in his lap. “Just relax.”

“I don’t think you’re selfish,” he continued anyway, curling into himself tighter, soaking in as much of his brother’s body heat as he could. “Or useless.”

“I know you don’t.”

“I didn’t have any right to go off on you like that.”

“In your shoes, I doubt I’d be handling things much better.”

“I’m sorry.”

“And I forgive you. Now we’re even.”

This remark wasn’t quite enough to make Mario smile, but it did make him feel lighter, if only a bit. From his spot on the floor, he watched the rain patter against the living room window, dark and dreary and soothing. With the rain outside and Luigi’s fingers still combing through his curls, he felt properly sleepy for the first time in ages, a feeling far more pleasant than the exhaustion that had plagued him for eight, coming up on nine weeks.

Come to think of it, when was the last time he’d slept in his own bed? Most nights he’d find the nearest wall to slump against or a decent patch of grass to crash in when he couldn’t make his body cooperate any longer. And when was the last time he’d had a proper meal? Luigi had forced him to sit down and eat a packet of crackers a day or two ago, Toad brought him soup sometime last week and refused to leave until he downed at least half of it, but…

“Weegee?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m hungry.”

The hand in his hair stilled, and the response came after a few seconds of comfortable silence.

“Well duh. Of course you are.” His voice wavered, yet Mario could tell he was smiling. “What’d’ya want? We’ve got plenty enough to make anything. Don’t hold back.”

Mario hummed, closing his eyes. Making that choice on his own was a mental process he didn’t have the resources for. “Surprise me.”

Luigi vocalized his approval, but he didn’t move to stand quite yet. Instead, the hand in Mario’s hair found his own hand, and he gladly took it, permitting himself that comfort at least.

“Hey Mario? Can you… promise me something first?”

Mario nodded, a small and rapid movement of his head. He knew what was coming: Promise me you’ll eat everything I put in front of you. Promise me you’ll take a bath. Promise me you’ll get into clean clothes and sleep on a bed tonight. He was all too ready to agree. It was the least he owed his long-suffering brother.

“When you save the Princess… promise me you’ll come home too. Okay?”

Mario’s eyes snapped back open. The rain still fell against the window before him, steady and unending.

Easy enough to promise, at least in theory. He didn’t want to die. He wanted to make more pleasant memories with his friends, with his love, with his brother especially. There were so many adventures he still wanted to go on. So many things he wanted to see and do. But if worst came to worst, and he had to lay his life down to save Peach’s… he’d already made up his mind.

“This isn’t your fault.”

He took in a deep breath through his nostrils, exhaled it slowly through his lips. Luigi was strong and selfless. He’d had the strength to lie just so he could ease Mario’s woes. The least Mario could do was offer up a comforting lie of his own.

“Yeah.” He nodded again, and if maybe he held Luigi’s hand a bit too tightly, that was okay. “Yeah, I think I can promise that.”

#THE ANGST THEN HURT/COMFORT IS SO GOOD #the flashback with Mario and Peach is super wholesome and makes the present situation ten times more heartbreaking #and then the brotherly angst…GOD #I’ve always interpreted Mario as exactly how he’s interpreted here when it comes to his protective side #he gets so roped up in his sense of responsibility that he not only pushes himself and runs himself to the ground #but he also treats those he cares about in a way he wouldn’t with a clear head #like lashing out at them and misinterpreting their intentions #and I admire Luigi’s patience and unwavering firmness here #and his emotional intelligence too #I teared up when Mario finally broke down and Luigi held him through it 😢😭#just…the pure emotions communicated in the writing is SO GOOD #it’s so good ❤️#super mario #super mario bros #mario bros #mario #luigi #mario and luigi #princess peach #fanfic #fanfiction

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strangererotica · 9 months ago

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꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

EXPLICIT CONTENT | MINORS DNI

steddie x reader • deliciously filthy smut • mfm relationship • dry humping • oral (m&f receiving) • p in v sex

❌ shit gets xxx rated immediately lol, smut below the cut👇

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

“That’s it honey,” Steve groans, his voice thick as syrup. “Rub that little pussy all over my cock, get it nice ‘n wet for me…”

Eddie watches you masturbate Steve between your thighs, jerking himself to the view. Watching you hump Steve is always a pleasure, but the sounds you make are even better. Each time you rut yourself against Steve, your sopping cunt makes the most delicious little noises. Eddie savors every single one.

Steve’s cock is hard and glossy, poking up between your legs. You wiggle intentionally on his lap, a throaty groan leaving his lips in response. A pearly string of precum oozes from Steve’s tip. You glide your hips over it, smearing his arousal with yours.

The room already smells like sex, a delicious blend of sweat and arousal. Eddie is getting impatient, his cock twitching in his fist as he longs for one of your holes around him. Steve’s eyes are closed, his forehead creased in concentration. Eddie shakes Steve by the shoulder, smiling tightly. “It’s my turn, Steven,” he insists, to which the other man grumbles but reluctantly agrees.

Eddie pulls you onto his lap, but he’s not interested in letting you grind on him. He wants to be inside you. Steve strokes his cock idly, massaging your cum over his shaft. You wet Steve’s cock so perfectly that his hand glides smoothly as he works himself. Steve shivers when his thumb catches his tip, leaking more precum as he watches you sink over Eddie’s cock.

Your mind feels fuzzy, every thought in your head evaporating as he fills you. Eddie can sense it, the way you’ve just lost all ability to form a coherent thought. He nuzzles against your ear, grinning when he tells you, “it’s okay, sweetheart…I’ll do all the thinking for you…”

Your head tilts back when Eddie bucks into you. He snakes a hand up your body, lightly wrapping his palm over your exposed throat. Eddie locks his other arm around you, clamping tight across your breasts to hold you to him. Sweat dots his forehead, every muscle in his body tensed as his cock bullies your cunt.

Steve approaches you, standing between your legs. He’s breathing heavily, sweat dripping from the ends of his hair as he orders you to “open.” Your lips part, tongue easing forward, ready for Steve’s cum. He presses his tip to the warm, wet muscle, cursing when your eyes flick up to meet his. Ropes of cum spill from Steve’s tip, painting your tongue a creamy shade of white.

As Steve’s cum slides down your throat, you feel your own climax building. Bouncing aggressively on Eddie’s cock, you push him as deep inside you as you possibly can. Your pillowy walls squeeze Eddie without mercy, milking every drop he has to give. He fills you up so completely, that when he smacks your ass and tells you to get off his dick, cum spills out of you and onto Eddie’s lap.

The room around you is soft and hazy as you come down from your orgasm. Not content with seeing you come only once, Steve and Eddie tug you to the bed and splay you over it. Steve positions himself between your legs, lifting your thigh to rest over his shoulder. Eddie lays beside your waist, bumping shoulders and elbows with Steve as they both claim space between your thighs. You clutch handfuls of both Steve and Eddie’s hair, tugging them onto your cunt. You’re so sensitive, already close to being over-stimulated; but the image of both boys’ tongues working between your thighs at once is too beautiful to resist.

Since it was Eddie who made you come previously, Steve seems to be on a mission to outdo Eddie’s cock with his mouth. Steve licks your cunt clean, scooping Eddie’s semen out of you with the tip of his tongue till all he can taste is you. Eddie sucks at the skin above your pussy, planting open-mouthed kisses over your mound while Steve eats you.

Steve’s nose is smashed to your clit, greedily inhaling your scent. He removes his tongue from inside you to lick wide circles over your clit, slathering your pussy in spit and cum. The sound is so wet it’s sinful, your juices sloshing loudly as Steve works his tongue back and forth between your folds. Eddie chews little crescent bite marks into your thigh as if sampling the flesh of a rare delicacy. His senses are consumed by you; Eddie’s nose is so close to your cunt, he can smell it, the flavor a sweet syrup on your thighs that his tongue laps devotedly.

Your back arches sharply, limbs contorting as pleasure supersedes control of your body. Eddie locks you in place with his forearm flattening your stomach, holding your ass to the bed. Steve is rock hard again, grinding his cock against the mattress as he consumes you. Tears burn your eyes, your mouth agape as saliva drools from your wide-parted lips. Eddie leans forward, swiping his tongue along your jawline, catching your spit before it reaches the bed.

The breath leaves your body, possibly taking your soul along with it, as you come. Eddie’s lips have latched to your breast, tweaking and teasing a nipple between his teeth. Steve refuses to stop licking you, his mind completely pussy-drunk until you are forced to buck out from under him, your pussy so sensitive it’s raw. Steve looks up from between your legs with a glassy, fucked-out expression, his lips and chin dripping wet.

Eddie kisses up your chest and neck, finding your lips and slipping his tongue past them. Your eyes drift up to the ceiling as he works his tongue against yours, the world drifting away softly as you drift gladly with it… ᥫ᭡.

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queen-of-hawkins-why-ler · 21 days ago

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When you bring up the lack of attraction that Mike demonstrates towards women, the Milkvans of reddit will say shit like, "Mike is Elsexual," "Mike chose El from the very beginning," "Mike loved El from the moment he saw her" etc. etc. and I just have to laugh bc even Mike himself says that this isn't true lmfao. "It wasn't fate. It wasn't destiny. It was simple dumb luck."

The difference between Mike's relationship with El and his relationship with Will is CHOICE. Mike chose alright, and he chose WILL and continues to choose Will again and again. What makes Mike and El's relationship special is that Mike didn't choose El. El showed up at his doorstep at a time when she was vulnerable and endangered, and Mike took her in and loved and accepted her unconditionally. Will, on the other hand, didn't stumble into Mike's life. From the very beginning, he was hand-picked: "So I asked. I asked if you wanted to be my friend. And you said yes. You said yes. It was the best thing I've ever done."

There has yet to be a time in the series when Mike chooses El over Will for more than a temporary amount of time. In s1, Mike cares for El, but his priority is always finding Will, even to the point at which he is willing to defame El and decimate his relationship with her when he believes her to be responsible for bad things happening to Will. In s2, Mike is always at Will's side, even sleeping next to him and constantly wanting to protect Will from the harm others are trying to cause him. In s3, Max says that Mike will "come crawling back" to El after the fight, but Mike actually ends up ignoring his conflict with El so that he can go apologize to and mend his relationship with Will. Similar thing happens in s4. He seems to "choose" El initially in Lenora, but he spends the rest of the season rekindling and nurturing his relationship with Will. Will Will Will. It's always been Will for him and it will always be Will.

Milkvans really have an easier time believing that Mike is a heterosexual boy who magically, whimsically, mysteriously is only attracted to one girl he met when he was twelve years old than that he MIGHT be not be 100% straight. It's bizarre bc what they're proposing would be so much more unusual than Mike just being queer. Like, us Bylers, we believe that Mike is in love with Will, but we don't deny Mike his sexuality and pretend that he's only ever been allowed to feel attraction for Will lmao. Take one look at that boy in s4 and it's so easy to tell that he is a gay disaster who likes putting posters of muscly men on his walls and watching men get sweaty and wrestle each other. That little shit is GAYYYYY as hell, in love with Will or not. But you expect me to believe that Mike is a HETEROSEXUAL boy who does not experience any feelings or attraction to any girl besides El??? Now THAT would be infinitely more of a stretch and more unusual than Mike just being gay or bi. Allo cisheterosexual men aren't exactly known for displaying a lack of attraction or horniness towards women. Even if El WERE the only person Mike ever experiences attraction towards, it would be a stretch atp to call Mike allo and cishet. He'd be ace-spec or demisexual and probably still roped into the queer umbrella lmao. But that's a narrative that the Milkvans are equally uncomfortable with bc they'd rather leap over the moon to conjecture that Mike, against all odds, logic, evidence, and reasoning, is an allo cisheterosexual man than admit that he is queer. Make it make sense.

But by all means, if y'all redditors want to push the ace-spec Mike agenda, please do so, I will support it. But something tells me that's not quite the case and that you'd rather live in this fantasy world where your perfectly good, perfectly allo cishet, perfectly conforming version of Mike Wheeler is exclusively, only attracted to El Hopper. In reality, Mike doesn't choose El and never did. He chooses and is demonstrably attracted to Will throughout the entire show.

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kinq-sleazee · 2 years ago

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MDNI 18+| bimbo!reader , chubby/thicc reader, fantasizing , mean boy meg , JJK frat house !

♔♕♚♛

I can’t stop thinkin’ bout Megumi’s obsession with Yuji’s chunky little bimbo gf.

Hate is a strong word, too strong a word to describe Megumi’s feelings for you. He refuses to give anyone that much energy, especially someone like you.

You’d probably fall within the category of “strongly disliked” when it comes to raven haired man.

It wasn’t anything you did to him, per se— he just found your general existence inconvenient.

Yuji is his fondest associate . Some may even consider them friends. They’d crossed the burning sands together, becoming members of the hallowed house JJK—that kind of thing binds people.

More often than not, they’d spend time together , fuck around, and their rooms were even right next to each others.

This wouldn’t have been a problem if you hadn’t entered their lives.

Megumi considers himself a level headed and loyal guy, but all of that fades once you walk in the room.

Have you no sense of decency ?

That thing that you call a skirt barely pulls over your full hips that sway with each sensual step, making your thighs and ass jiggle in a tantalizing fashion. All he can think about is how good it would look pushed up to your waist while he pounded you from behind.

He’s sure it’d be like a wave every time he bottomed out in your little hole. Probably would use both hands to jiggle and spread your cheeks as he watches you cream around his cock.

Plus, you were always wearing some skimpy little crop top that had all of your fluffy bits on display. Big, juicy tits presented so nicely through the deep v of your top. If he was lucky , you wouldn’t be wearing a bra that day and he could see your nipples pebbling through the fabric.

To have his lips wrapped around those puffy brown mounds would be heavenly. Swirling his tongue softly around the peak just to bite down harshly when you least expected it. He figured that you’re probably a squirmer so he’d have to use one hand to hold you down by your soft tummy. His eyes would probably roll to the back of his head feeling your flesh spill through his fingers while he toyed with your tits.

And god— your perfect fucking mouth. He has spent so many nights fucking his fist to the thought of you swallowing around his cock. Looking all dumb and pretty with teary eyes, gloss stained cheeks and drool on your chin. Megumi likes it sloppy— he’d wrap his hand around your neck for leverage and plunge into your throat until ropes of cum mixed with foamy saliva fell down your torso.

He really disliked you.

You make it so hard to be a good friend.

Like right now you’re standing at the door waiting to be let in. Nobody’s here, won’t be for another hour or so. It would be too easy to invite you in to wait on your precious “Yuu”. He’d even offer to keep you company on his friend’s bed. It wouldn’t be too hard to pretend to listen to whatever bullshit you were babbling about. You’re so dumb and slutty that you don’t even question it when he says that he’s only rubbing your thighs because his hands are cold. Megumi would have to bite his tongue to keep from laughing when he accuses you of getting turned on and you actually start apologizing.

“I don’t care if you didn’t mean it. You got my fingers all wet and m’hard now. It’s your responsibility to fix it”.

That’s all it would take to have you bouncing on his cock, head thrown back while he sucks on one nipple and pinches the other.

Yuuji wouldn’t mind right ?

#♛♚|the king speaks #jujutsu megumi #megumi x reader #megumi smut #megumi x black reader #jjk x black reader #jjk smut #jujustsu kaisen x reader #megumi fushiguro #fushiguro x reader

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all-the-gory-details · 3 months ago

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Whump prompt: taken to market

Tw: pet whump, objectification, mentions of violence, dehumanization

Whumpee shivered as they trailed behind their owner, tugged along by a rope leash around their neck. The cold night air combined with the short sleeved shirt and boxers they were wearing made for a miserable walk.

And the knowledge of their destination made it so, so much worse.

Whumpee sniffled as they followed along. Begging and pleading for Whumper to change his mind had only gotten them slapped earlier, so they stayed silent.

It wasn't long before they reached the auction house.

Whumpee's heart started pounding at the sight, eyes scanning the sign above the door with a renewed sense of panic.

Pet Auctions held here! Fridays 8-12 pm, every week! Quality pets for sale at incredible prices! We buy used merchandise!

Whumpee froze in terror, tears welling up in their eyes once more. Whumper yanked them along, closer to that door, closer to that place-

They couldn't go back.

"P-please, Master, don't d-do this-"

Whumper pushed on, opening the heavy wooden door and pulling whumpee through. He walked up to the counter, smiling at the employee and exchanging pleasantries.

Whumpee sobbed quietly as the two moved on to buisness. Whumper gestured to them with a grin, and they flinched hard.

"I'm looking to sell my pet," he said easily, and whumpee hiccuped in response. "How much do you think I'll get for it?"

The employee looked them up and down, making a few calculations. "We'll have to conduct a more thorough examination, but for a rough estimate... somewhere between 15 and 20 hundred."

Whumper nodded, a hint of disappointment in his eyes. "Alright. I might go take a look at the merchandise while you appraise it, if that's alright?"

"Of course, sir. I can take it back right now. We'll call your name when we're done."

Whumper smiled and shook the employee's hand before handing the leash over and walking away.

Whumpee shook with the force of their sobs as they watched him leave. They had been sold.

The employee turned and pulled them towards a door leading deeper into the auction house, and they could do nothing but follow along.

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teyamsgrl · 1 year ago

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here to help ✧ lo'ak

❗️ MDNI ❗️

this is filthyyyyyyyyy hehehe i love rut fics sm 🤭 also my apologies for not posting as frequently! i’m in uni so naturally my posting will be a bit more randomized, but nonetheless i hope everyone still enjoys!

°˖➴ warnings: fem omatikaya reader, older!reader, agedup!lo'ak, dom!lo'ak, sub!reader, younger brother's best friend lo'ak, lo'ak in his rut, messy (if that's a warning?), multiple orgasms, dirty talk, spanking, choking, l-bombs, a lot of sex period 🥴

having a crush on your younger brother's best friend wasn't necessarily ideal, but that never stopped you from fawning over lo'ak any chance you could get. he was not only pretty but also so gracious, he just never failed to amaze you. but these were feelings you restricted due to the circumstances... that is until you heard groaning from the sully hut.

upon hearing the noise your ears twitched, concerned that there may be something wrong. you do your best to announce your presence before stepping into the hut, heavily ruffling with the entrance as you opened it and calling to ask if anyone was there. all you got in response were grunts, and it all made sense once you spotted lo'ak slumped against the wall opposite the entrance, large and veiny cock engulfed by his fist, sweat coating his torso along with ropes of his own cum. he was in his rut.

any words you wanted to utter got caught in your throat, eyes frantically scanning lo'ak's current state and legs crossing subconsciously for any possible friction. his whimpers snap you out of your daze, spotting the cum shooting out of his tip. the glowing white substance drips down his stomach and joins the many other spurts that lie there. within a second his eyes are wide open and staring at you, amber eyes extremely dark and pupils dilated. "y/n" his voice is husky as he speaks, eyes devouring you as you stand a few feet away. "l-lo'ak, hi, uh-" a purple hue fills your cheeks as he eye fucks you, your pussy now forming a wet spot on your loincloth.

"come here" he orders without hesitation, licking his lips slightly. "i- lo'ak i don't know- my little brother is your best friend and-" "i don't give a fuck, come here" you whimper so softly it's barely audible, sauntering over to lo'ak and taking a seat in front of him. you knew men got sort of feral-ish while in their rut, but lo'ak's demanding nature was turning you on more than you ever thought was possible.

lo'ak's hands gripped your hips tightly and yanked you into his lap, his permanently hard cock pressing into your wet loincloth. you whimpered louder this time, resting your hands on his shoulders to stabilize yourself. he leans forward to press his face into your neck, licking and nipping it. "smell so good.. could smell you the second you were outside the hut" he groans and presses you down on his cock, your hips instinctively rolling. "fuck- gonna fuck you so hard..." he growls and runs his hands down between your legs, grabbing the section of your loincloth and tearing it open. you gasp as you hear the rip of the fabric, large hole exposing your pussy which is sopping wet.

"ride me first, pretty girl" you nod frantically, completely at his mercy and willing to do whatever he says. you line up his once again leaking cock with your entrance, sinking down smoothly due to the wetness you've expelled. the rumble that leaves his chest is loud, hands vice gripping the plush of your ass as he bottoms out inside of you. you begin to bounce on his length, bracing yourself with your hands on his chest, airy whimpers falling past your lips. your pace is decently brisk, but not fast enough for a young man in his rut. within an instant you're flat on your back, knees pushed up to your chest while lo'ak jackhammers into your pussy. your surprised gasp was laced with pleasure, squelching filling your ears quickly.

"l-lo'ak-" you whine and drag your nails along the woven mat beneath you, eyes rolling at the deepness of his thrusts, cervix getting abused each time. "so fucking good huh?" he groans, large palms holding your legs to your chest as his hips snap aggressively. you whine and lock eyes with him, drowning in the lust that cloud his. "gonna cum- fucking fill you" he moans as his cock twitches inside of you, cum shooting out and painting your walls. you gasp as he cums, watching as his abs tighten during his orgasm. you don't have much time to look before lo'ak is thrusting again, your back arching off of the mat at the sudden return of sensation. "always knew you'd have a tight pussy.." he groans huskily, pads of his fingers forming bruises on the back of your thighs as they press into your chest. "s-shit!" you gasp, knot inside of you snapping suddenly before you glaze his cock with your cum.

his chuckle is deep and his smirk is big as he brings one hand down to your clit, teasingly circling it with his middle finger while his thrusts never falter. "lo'ak-" you wince, "sensitive". "i know, babygirl.. cum again" his cock pushes even deeper if at all possible, probing your cervix while his hand strokes your bundle of nerves fiercely, second orgasm approaching quickly. "squirt all over my cock- fucking soak me while i feed your pussy again" he moans out as he releases again, stuffing your pussy with even more cum. "oh great mother!" you squeal as you squirt, covering your own thighs and lo'ak's cock, along with his abs. "good girl" he leans over you, breath tickling your lips at his proximity. you whimper softly, craning your neck to press your lips on his in a heated kiss. he sloppily kisses you, teeth nipping at your bottom lip before he pulls off, manhandling you so you're now face down and ass up.

his one hand pushes your thighs apart, the other pressing your head down as he enters you again with ease. "big, big.." you babble, eyes rolling as your mind goes blank, the only thing you're able to focus on is lo'ak's cock slamming in and pulling out. his pace is quite rapid, the sound of skin slapping unbelievably loud. "fucked you dumb haven't i?" he adds more pressure to your head, other hand coming down on your ass roughly. you whine at the spank, back arching down more to push your ass out further, silently asking for more. he spanks you twice more, skin stinging yet you can't help but moan louder each time his hand comes down. "slutty girl..." he rasps, hand groping the plush of your ass now. "yes yes yes" you mewl, body rocking with each thrust. his hand on your head trails around to your neck, holding it tightly and pulling you up on your knees.

you whine as your walls squeeze his cock, milking him further. his mouth rests at your ear, breathy moans escaping as he continues to pound you. "fucking squeezing me babygirl- you want more cum? huh? say it" he grumbles, hand tightening on your throat for the perfect amount of pressure. "more cum.. more more more" you choke out through your brain fog and restricted throat, pussy clenching again around his shaft. "that's it... good girl" he moans and pushes in as far as he can, cum filling you once again. his cum is now dripping from your pussy and down your thighs, pussy too full to hold it all in. his chest heaves against your back for a moment before he's thrusting again, your head lulling back onto his shoulder.

"too much-" you whimper, weakly trying to escape his grasp but failing miserably. his free arm wraps around your waist, tugging you back to be flush against his front. "don't you fucking move, you can take it. just one more..." he nibbles your ear before starting to drive his cock inside of you once more. your jaw is slack yet barely audible whines are escaping as you take his length, his cock bringing you to your third orgasm. you shake and tighten on his cock as you cum again, squirt flowing down your thighs and onto the mat under your knees. he groans out in satisfaction and moves his hips faster, pussy being ravished farther with each movement. "you're mine, i've fucking claimed you" he grunts and presses in deeply once, twice, and on the third thrust his cock explodes for the fourth time. you hum as he adds more cum to your flowing hole, his chest rising and falling as he catches his breath.

when he pulls out of you you sigh at the emptiness, turning around slowly as he loosens his grasp on your body. "such a good girl for me, took so much.." he smiles and kisses your forehead, gesturing for you to lie down. "rest, and then i'll take you ho-" "no! i mean- when will that-" you wave your hand around trying to find the word in your jumbled head, "how long until you feel like that again?" "hmmm.. it usually comes back every few hours.." "then, i'll stay? since you'll need help again, right?" your eyes are big as you stare up at him, hands lying against his chest. "you're perfect.." he chuckles, placing his hands on top of yours, "in the meantime, i would like to talk about... that. i really love you, genuinely..." he trails off, tail swaying in anticipation. "lucky for you, i really love you too" you giggle and lean in, kissing him more calmly now, lips moving in unison after your confessions. not only do you help lo'ak with his rut later, but you do so as his mate.

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restinslices · 9 months ago

Note

Need to slut Kuai out ngl

MDNI OBVIOUSLY! No gender specified

CW: Sub!Kuai Liang, fingering (male receiving), ass eating (male receiving)

Kuai Liang always carried himself with dignity and class when he was around others. He spoke his mind, but in a way that wouldn’t be seen as aggressive. He listened to others and never taunted anyone. He was always cooperative with everyone and helped out when he could. When people saw him, they saw a respectable, fierce, and intelligent man that carried incredible leadership skills.

But you weren’t everyone else. Only you could make him lose all sense of dignity. Only you could have him bent over, his arms restrained with his own ropes. Only you could make him follow your order of rubbing his aching cock against his pillow. Only you could make his once commanding voice turn into whimpers and moans.

If anyone else were to walk in on him in such a position, he’d immediately jump up and make them leave. With your eyes on him though, his tip leaked and his balls were heavy with the orgasm he so desperately needed but you refused him. Your nails scraped against his spine and a shiver went through him. His fist balled. Every time he got close, you’d tell him to stop, and like a good whore he’d listen.

“Getting close again?” You asked. He knew that you already knew the answer, but him choosing to answer honestly instead of lying and trying to sneak an orgasm always made you smirk.

He nodded. “Stop moving”.

“Please…” he muttered as he stilled all movements. You pushed his hair away from his face and behind his ear, and he made sure to make eye contact with you.

“Something you wanna say Kuai?”.

How could you have such a soft touch and a voice as nice as cold water on a hot day, yet torture him this way? You knew what he needed, but for the fourth time you denied him. You even remained fully dressed, refusing to give him delight of seeing your beautiful body. Maybe he shouldn’t have been so friendly with Harumi, but that’s all it was. Being friendly. He swore it. Sometimes he thought you enjoyed watching him sweat and huff and obey your every command even when he wanted to do the exact opposite.

“I need-“

You cut him off, having heard this before. “You want to cum. You don’t need to. There’s a difference. I thought you were smart”

“I am” he protested. You just hummed in response. Your thumb traced his bottom lip and he welcomed it eagerly on his tongue.

“Why don’t you just cum anyway? Let me guess” you looked him over and tsked. “The ropes! Maybe being restrained and in this position makes it harder for you to do what you want. Let me help with that”. He made an attempt to chase after your thumb but you moved faster than him. You took your time unbinding his wrist and once the ropes were gone you rubbed where marks laid on his pale skin.

He watched you step back and look him over once again. He couldn’t read your expression. You didn’t look happy, or angry, not even slightly irritated or like you wanted to fuck him. You looked emotionless and that worried him, because now he had no idea what was going on in that pretty head of yours.

“Go on. You wanna cum, so cum”

But it wasn’t an order. Sure, you were technically giving him permission, but it wasn’t how you usually did it. You didn’t call him a good boy or tell him to make a mess, or kissed him and mumbled filthy words into his mouth. He only noticed now that he hadn’t even moved his hands from behind his back, and he had no plans to.

When he didn’t respond, you tilted your head to the side a bit. “What’s wrong? You have no excuse now. You’re a big strong man and those ropes are gone”.

“I…” he wasn’t sure how to respond. You were right, he had no excuse not to just take what he wanted. He didn’t wanna cum if you weren’t telling him to though.

“Open”.

Your pointer and middle finger slipped past his lips and massaged his tongue. The groan that rumbled in his throat and the way his once softening cock started to harden again was embarrassing, but accepted. “You wanna know why you won’t give yourself what you want? Because you’re always gonna be obedient to me. If I’m not telling you to cum, it won’t be as good, now will it?” Your frown was full of faux sadness and sympathy and for the life of him he couldn’t understand why it turned him on so much.

Your fingers got closer and closer to reaching his throat, but as soon as you were there you pulled your fingers away and chuckled when he once again chased after your fingers.

“What do I wanna do to you? That’s the important question…”. Your fingers left a wet trail down his spine and he shuddered when they slipped in between his cheeks.

He let out a quiet moan when you stopped circling his rim and finally slipped your fingers inside him. They were met with some resistance, but once they were inside, they moved easily.

“Do I wanna let you cum? Damn, I’m just not sure”. Your fingers moved in and out of him, occasionally scissoring and widening his hole, all while he moaned and rutted his hips against the pillow below him. “You love what I love. You want what I want. Isn’t that right Kuai?”. He opened his mouth to respond, but you slipped another finger inside of him and he choked on his words.

“Use your words”.

He tried to, but every time he mouth would open you’d thrust your fingers inside him faster or your other hand would massage his balls, which swelled with his needed release. You’d do all this, then go back to your regular pace and release his balls, only to ask him to speak and start up again. It was a game he couldn’t say he didn’t enjoy. He only started to feel nerves when he felt a familiar coil inside him screaming to be allowed to snap. Admittedly, he wanted to break the rules. He wanted to finally cum after being denied for so long.

But then he thought about how disappointed you’d be in him. How you’d look down at him and say he wasn’t your good boy anymore.

And with that thought, he forced himself to say the words “I’m- I’m close”.

His fingers flexed and he forced himself to bite his tongue and not complain when your fingers stilled inside him. Cumming may have been what he wanted, but he also wanted more. He wanted you to be pleased with him.

“Should I let you cum?”

“If it’d make you happy” he answered with no hesitation.

It had gotten quiet. He felt the bed dip behind him and before he could process what was about to happen, he felt your tongue push past his hole. His mouth stayed open, letting lewd sounds fill the air in response to your fingers and tongue fucking inside him. There had been plenty of times you called his ass a cunt, and he was glad he didn’t have one. He knew if he did, he’d beg you to fill all his holes and toy with his clit with every waking moment. He already took so much pleasure when you played with him from behind, and even when you’d finger fuck his mouth during his most desperate moments. He couldn’t imagine having another hole that’d be all yours.

The coil grew tighter. Without him asking, you wrapped your other hand around his dick and matched the speed of your movements with your thrusts. Soon enough Kuai Liang’s eyes squeezed shut, he let out a choked sob and his cum painted the silk beneath him.

Your tongue left his hole but your fingers remained. “It’d make me really happy if you came again for me. Is that okay?”. He could hear the smirk in your words.

“Mhm” he answered and nodded.

Why would he ever refuse?

He’d do anything to make you happy.

Usually the smut I write is in headcanons or short ass blurbs, but I saw a Kuai Liang edit and it made me feral so here we are. Remember it’s a miracle I graduated on time, so be nice😭

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shxtodxroki · 1 year ago

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𝙽𝚘𝚝-𝚂𝚘-𝚂𝚎𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚝 𝚂𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚊

Summary: Your past friendship with Satoru Gojo is ancient history by the time you’re both well into your teaching years, the man a mere memory from your past you can’t help but reminisce on more often than you should. But when Christmas-time rolls around and you get roped into a faculty Secret Santa event alongside your sister school, your not-so-secret Santa causes old, unresolved feelings to resurface, and gives you a chance to finally rehash and truly release them.

Warnings: Swearing, some angst, this fic was written as a gift so it’s a fem reader instead of my usual gender neutral reader! There’s also a few small descriptive details of the reader’s personality/likes since it’s targeted towards the person I wrote it for, but there are NO physical descriptions of the reader! Geto, Nanami and Haibara are also all teachers in this! (Nanami and Geto work w/ Gojo in Tokyo, while Haibara works w/ reader and Utahime in Kyoto!)

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x Fem! Reader

Word Count: 6.8k

Note: This fic is a gift that I wrote for @planetnini for this JJK secret santa event! :D Hi Nini, I was your secret santa! :D I had a lot of fun getting to know you and chatting with you through asks throughout this event, and I hope you like the final fic I made for you! I tried to take into account some of the things you told me and personalize it a bit, and I’d love to know what you think! <3 Happy holidays Nini and anyone else reading this, if you celebrate any holidays around this time of year then I hope you had a wonderful time, and even if not, I hope you’re having an amazing end of the year! :D

The scent of the town-famous bakery always managed to fill you with a bittersweet sense of nostalgia, memories flooding your senses as flashes of bright blue eyes and teasing grins flashed behind your eyelids in response to the familiar scent. It makes your stomach twist in mild discomfort, pushing the fond childhood memories that spring up back into the crevices of your mind where they belong as you feel a small, long-residing pang of longing.

He had always loved sweets.

Being friends with Satoru Gojo, the honored one who took Jujutsu society by storm from the very moment he was born, was an experience you reflected back on far more often than you’d ever admit out loud. Considering how long it had been since the two of you last had any significant contact, it would seem odd to admit just how often your mind still wandered to him, to the many soft moments and bright memories you shared in adolescence, and to the one true best friendship you had ever known. People have come and gone through your life in waves since then, and you’ve had dear friends who meant the world to you, but nobody could ever come close to the role Satoru had once filled, the way he made your heart feel so full of affection and love that it just might burst. It was the kind of friendship you felt you would only find once in a lifetime, and thus the kind you could never forget. Maybe it wouldn’t sound that ludicrous after all, but you still kept this longing to yourself, and most days, you managed to dull it to a gentle simmer beneath your ribcage as you went about your days.

You have other things to focus on now. A job and your loved ones and the upkeep of your home, all essential parts of your daily life that keep you from lamenting on the mere wisps of memory of the boy you knew. Knowing that he wasn’t far away, living a life far busier than your own but in the same profession at your sister school, did come with the occasional urge to reach out, to reminisce or catch up or ask why your whole friendship had fallen apart in the first place. But you’ve always managed to resist the urge, to fight back the desire to reach out and pry yourself away from the open yet long-ago unfollowed Instagram page on your phone (though not always without help, you had to thank Utahime for keeping you from your nostalgic urges every now and then).

So with all the work you had put into moving on from a friendship you honestly should have long ago, you would admit (at least to yourself) that you were less than excited to find out that you’d be participating in a winter retreat with the sister school where Satoru now taught at. You were even less eager when it was revealed that there would be a staff-wide Secret Santa event between the two schools, and as the days counted down towards the trip, you found yourself wishing that the universe would cut you a break just this once and give you anyone else besides Satoru to buy a gift for. You knew so little about the person he was currently, now that so much time had passed between the two of you, and truthfully, you had no clue if he even remembered who you were at this point. The sting of realizing that he didn’t remember you was a pain you truly didn’t long to feel, and having to get a gift for your former best friend under such uncertain conditions was simply a fate you wished to avoid at all costs.

“Quit glaring, you’re drawing attention to you, and me by proxy.” You mutter to your best friend as she glares daggers into the back of the man you wished to avoid. Luckily for you, the interaction was anything but uncommon for the two, so it was unlikely to truly draw attention to either of you. Yet it still wasn’t a risk you wanted to take, not wanting to face even the slightest possibility of being forced to suffer through awkward small talk with the man who had once known all your deepest secrets.

“How did that idiot manage to become a teacher? His students would be better off with a fucking rock as an instructor, I swear to god.” Utahime grumbles back from beside you, paying no mind to your words as she continues glaring at the man from afar. Her disdain for the man was amplified when you told her of your shared past, but she had held a strong dislike for him from the moment the two had first interacted at school functions, leaving you hopeful that he wouldn’t be phased from the typical distant hostility and annoyance he received from your best friend. These days, Satoru Gojo rarely managed to spare you as much as a glance, and it had been years since he had uttered your name (a fact you were ashamed to admit you had been keeping track of, in the brief and meager conversations the two of you had shared over recent years). The feeling of being forgotten stung deep in your bones, but you outwardly portrayed the same level of unbotheredness and nonchalance he did whenever the two of you would be put in the position to briefly interact, so most of your colleagues (including Satoru himself) were hopefully none the wiser to your inner predicament.

“Alright, everyone come draw a name! And there’s no switching or re-draws unless you pick yourself!” You suddenly hear Suguru Geto’s voice echo through the room, sounding controlled and put-together as always as he drew you from your reverie and back into reality once more. It didn’t take long for the air to grow stuffy as all of the evening’s attendees crowded together around the bag of names, the small crowd still managing to tightly press together as everyone crowded in to select their recipients for this year’s secret santa event.

Some were more eager than others, but the process was still able to remain somewhat orderly as everyone pressed together and took turns grabbing a folded up paper from the bag. The rotation went counter-clockwise, and you watched as your coworkers and fellow faculty went one-by-one until the line reached Utahime to your left. As she plucked a name from the bag, you blurted out a quip that wasn’t meant to particularly be hidden, but one which you really only intended for her ears as a small grin made its way across your face.

“Thank god Gakuganji’s off on business this year, imagine what a nightmare it would be to buy a gift for him.” You laugh at your own comment, watching your best friend’s face light up in acknowledgment of the joke before opening the slip of paper in her hand. The voice you hear responding to you, though, is much lower than that of your friend’s, and the sight of her mouth not moving causes your stomach to drop as you suddenly grow aware of the presence to your right.

“God, I think getting a gift from that geezer would be worse. He’d bring five dollar socks and expect ‘utmost gratitude’.” His voice felt like honey coating your ears, deep and smooth as the scent of his cologne suddenly engulfed your surroundings. You couldn’t believe you had let his presence slip out of your awareness, that you had been oblivious to him standing right beside you even if only for a few moments. You were so used to being tuned into his movements during gatherings like these, doing your best to avoid him whenever possible and to maneuver your way subtly through awkward small talk on the occasions where avoidance wasn’t possible. And yet here he was, appearing beside you without a shred of awareness on your part. And he was joking with you causally, as if the history between you meant nothing to him at all.

He may not remember your history at all at this point.

You could feel heat rising to your face at the thought, the painful stab of acknowledging that you may not have meant as much to him as he did to you causing your form to grow rigid where you stood. You knew you shouldn’t still be so affected by him, so in tune to everything he did and so easily reactive whenever he was near. His quick remark to you showed that he held no similar reservations when interacting with you, and it had been plenty of time to let go of the torch you had been carrying. But you were the one who left the friendship with unresolved feelings you never got the chance to express to him, with an attachment deeper than just friendship. And he obviously wasn’t, which was clearly why he had managed to move on so much faster than you had.

You were thankful as you realized it was your turn to pull from the bag, eager for a distraction so you wouldn’t have to think of a response to Satoru’s remark. You needed to calm down, and hopefully you could occupy yourself with thinking of potential gifts for your recipient through the rest of the night rather than putting so much energy into a man who wouldn’t reciprocate. Your hand plunged in and out of the bag in a flash, just desperate for any name that wasn’t Satoru’s, and you let out a soft sigh of relief as you read the name inscribed on the paper in your hand.

“Yu Haibara”.

Thank god, fate seemed to be on your side this time. Not only did you not pull Satoru’s name, but you were close enough with Haibara, as you saw one another nearly every day, to comfortably pick out a gift you knew he’d enjoy even without the list provided to you. He was easily one of those you were closest to among the participants, second only to Utahime, and despite the melancholy that had been simmering within you throughout the evening as thoughts of Satoru filled your mind, you felt a sudden wave of confidence and excitement as you thought of what you could get him that you knew he’d love. Perhaps this was what you needed, to stop focusing so much on a long-dead friendship by instead putting that energy into pursuing closer friendships with those you cared about now. This was going to be the Christmas to turn around your attitude, you were sure of it.

And in the self-improvement spiral you sent yourself down in that moment, for once you missed the small, almost imperceptible yet genuine smile that crossed Satoru’s face as he pulled a name of his own from the bag.

The next morning, as you woke up and stepped out of your hotel room for the morning after dragging yourself out of bed at the sound of your alarm, you found yourself nearly falling face-first into the floor as you tripped on an unfortunately-placed object directly outside your doorway. The fall caused you to let out a shriek as you braced for impact, and though you were luckily able to catch yourself before you crashed, the event still left a small, tired scowl on your face as you pulled yourself up and took a glance at the item that had nearly left you bruised and sore first thing in the morning.

The sight in front of you, however, quickly melted your annoyance into curiosity as you saw a soft, pale yellow bag obstructing the walkway outside of your hotel door. Your mind was racing for a few moments as it tried to catch up with the morning’s events, and when you were eventually able to recall the secret santa exchange that you had signed up for the night prior, you felt a small giddiness bubbling within you as you grabbed the small bag by it’s handles and returned with it in hand to your room. Perhaps you could forgive whoever had left the bag in prime tripping position, as the excitement of receiving your first gift of the week outweighed any prior frustrations you held.

You opened the bag expecting a small gift to start off the exchange, maybe flowers or a nice snack. Your secret santa had only had hours between the choosing of the names and this morning, after all, and you would perfectly understand choosing to go light on most of the gifts even without the rushed nature of this first morning. So when you stripped the bag of its tissue paper only to be faced with a brand-new copy of a new game you had mentioned in your list of potential gifts, you couldn’t fight back the widening of your eyes in surprise. A brand new game surely wasn’t cheap, and to get it at such short notice felt like nothing short of a miracle. (Or incredible effort on your Secret Santa’s part). Taped onto the game was a note, short and simple:

“You’ve seemed extra stressed the past few days, so why don’t you take the day off and relax? Kick your feet up and have fun playing your new game ;)

- Secret Santa”

The note gave little away of the one who had left the gift, yet their kindness and effort was clear in both presentation and product as you grinned to yourself. Fate truly did seem to be on your side this holiday season, as you had seemingly been blessed with the loveliest secret santa in all existence. While the gift was much more than you had expected, and you had barely even gotten a chance to wake up that morning, you were quick to shoot a text over to Utahime telling her to come over to your room to share your excitement with someone. Though you unfortunately couldn’t play the game yet as your secret santa had advised, since you hadn’t brought your console with you on the trip to Tokyo, you still wanted to enjoy the gift in some way as you silently sent your gratitude towards your mystery gift-giver. You’d have to thank them when they finally revealed themself on Christmas eve, but for now you’d wait for your best friend to arrive so you could brag about your exceptionally generous secret santa and the gift you couldn’t wait to try out once you returned to your cozy home in Kyoto at the end of the week.

On the second day, you thankfully did not wake up to a tripping hazard outside of your door, leading you to assume your secret santa would drop off your gift later in the day. Honestly you were thankful that it wasn’t left first thing in the morning like the day prior, as you had accidentally overslept after staying out a bit later than usual picking out a gift and writing a fun note for Haibara for day one of your secret santa exchange.

You had offered to chaperone a sightseeing day around Tokyo for the students (one the Tokyo students would also be attending, though more on the basis of shopping than sightseeing) alongside Utahime and two Tokyo instructors, and after sleeping through your alarm, you were already short on time as you scrambled to get ready and meet your students on time. Having a gift to open would have only added to your hassle, and now you could look forward to receiving one at the end of the day instead as you rushed to the meeting spot, just barely making it in time.

Utahime and all of your students were already waiting, and you watched as your best friend’s face drew into a small smile as she saw you approaching. Your eyes quickly caught sight of Satoru and Suguru standing beside her, seemingly the volunteers to chaperone the Tokyo students for the day, but you were determined to stick to your new outlook of no longer fixating on Satoru, so you forced yourself to brush past his presence even as he mocked and teased your best friend beside you. The four of you set out with the students in tow, allowing Suguru to lead the way as a Tokyo native (and out of a lack of trust in Satoru’s navigational skills), and you did your best to stop your mind from drifting to thoughts of Satoru as you tried to keep your students engaged and having fun, while also taking some time to chat with Utahime and scan the area for potential gifts for Haibara.

You made many stops throughout the day as you passed through various shopping districts and interesting stores, and it brought a smile to your face to watch your students interact and have fun with one another as well as their sister school peers as they spent the day shopping and chatting altogether. The poor kids were faced with the monstrosities of the Jujutsu world on a daily basis at such a young age, and it warmed your heart to at least be able to give them the chance to simply have fun and act like teenagers every once in a while. For today they weren’t Jujutsu sorcerers in training, they were just kids hanging out with their friends, and the thought made you smile as you, Utahime and Suguru hung back and watched the kids do their shopping and sightseeing (as Gojo had turned his attention from Utahime to Megumi Fushiguro for the time being, much to the young boy’s chagrin.

The day was long and covered quite a bit of land, taking you all through the streets of Tokyo as you reminisced on your youth and saw places you hadn’t visited in years, since leaving Tokyo for Kyoto to become a Jujutsu instructor and get away from your (admittedly not that dramatic) past. Sure, the nostalgia of it all did bring memories of your childhood with Satoru to the front of your mind on occasion as you passed a shop that the two of you used to always visit with your allowance money, or a favorite restaurant you would visit together on special occasions.

But you managed to keep your focus on the students and enjoying the night out rather than letting yourself drown in the memories, and you were proud to say you even managed to be friendly and courteous to Suguru despite your usual awkwardness around your former other half’s new best friend. You were so focused, in fact, that you failed to notice when Satoru’s watchful eyes fell on you and refused to leave as he saw you interacting with his best friend with ease, or the way his expression faltered into an unreadable look at the sight.

As the sun begins to set, and all the adults begin to discuss plans to turn in for the evening, you catch a brief whiff of a scent that sends you hurdling back into your adolescence full-force, your common sense momentarily leaving you as you step out of the ongoing conversation and quickly make your way to a place which was once your sanctuary, your home away from home in your younger years.

Your favorite bakery, a small, family-owned shop whose delectable treats you hadn’t tasted in years was still standing in the same spot it always had been, and the scent of the pastry that had been your favorite since childhood made its way to you as your eyes widened at the sight. You were so caught up in trying to keep yourself from drooling at the delicious scent that you failed to hear your colleagues approaching behind you, nor the way Satoru’s eyes were trained on you once again with the slightest hint of guilt reflecting in them.

“Mmmm, looks yummy.” Utahime praises as her eye lands on the pastry you had been staring down, the two men beside her nodding in agreement. You allowed yourself another moment to stare at the delicacy inside of the shop before turning to face your comrades, though you felt your stomach do a small flip as you finally registered the way Satoru’s gaze seemed stuck on you, and the unreadable look on his face.

“Yeah…. Sorry guys, I just got a bit distracted. We should be heading back to the hotel.” You mumbled out your apology as you returned to your spot beside Utahime, trying to ignore the way thoughts of Satoru once again flooded your mind as you tried to make sense of his strange expression, or the unusual silence he was now emitting.

But there was no way that bakery brought back the same feelings for him that it did for you, and you weren’t even sure if he remembered the time the two of you spent there so long ago at all. You were sure he had long-forgotten your love of that specific pastry as the years had passed, or the way he used to always steal a bite from you whenever you bought one for yourself. Those days had long passed, and you forced yourself to shake off his sudden change in attitude and assume it was a coincidence as the four of you saw all of your students to their sleeping quarters for the evening, before parting ways to get ready for bed yourselves.

Though you were a bit sad to see the sight of an empty doorway as you made your way back to your hotel room alone that evening, you felt your heart rate pick up a bit a your mood turned to something more hopeful when you heard a quick knocking on your door as you finished up your skincare routine for the evening. Of course, your elusive secret santa was gone by the time you opened the door, but the scent that practically smacked you in the face as you reached for another pale yellow bag suddenly had your stomach twisting and turning once more as you felt your suspicions begin to raise.

And as you suspected, inside of the bag you were met with the same pastry you had just been admiring less than an hour prior, the sight making you a bit less happy than it usually would despite your gratitude for the gift as you began to realize that your secret santa had to be one of the other three people you had spent the day with. And despite your hopes that things weren’t as they seemed, the note taped to the side of the bag only caused your heart to sink further as it practically spelled it out for you, so early into the week of secret santa exchanges.

“These have always been your favorite, and now you have a whole batch all to yourself, so you don’t have to share. Though, I wouldn’t mind if you’d be kind enough to slip me a piece ;)

- Secret Santa”

You spend most of the third day - another free day, thankfully - relaxing and trying to distract yourself watching all of your favorite movies and TV shows, doing practically anything to try and keep your mind away from your discovery last night. You did end up eating the pastry that you had received the night prior (at first the thought made you shiver, as the treat felt as if it weighed a thousand pounds with the loaded memories packed within, but the temptation had eventually been too strong to resist as it’s sweet scent bombarded your senses) but you were making it a point to stay in your room for the day unless one of your students needed you, determined to avoid Satoru as you ignored your emotions rather than attempt to process them.

The note he had left the night prior seemed to indicate that the self-depricating idea that you had clung onto for so many years of him forgetting your friendship was in fact false, and the thought alone had your head swimming with conflict and served to bring up more heartbreak than the reality you had created for the state of your relationship with him over the past ten years.

If he had forgotten about you, drifted off to other friends and bigger responsibilities until your bond faded from his mind, it would at least be a pain you were used to. A pain you had desensitized yourself to through the years of pining and pondering of a friendship long lost within the seas of time. But the thought that he may still remember it all, could still recall the afternoons spent together and the secrets shared, seemed to hurt much deeper. Because that meant he had chosen something else over those memories, that they seemingly hadn’t meant as much to him even with the images still fresh in his mind.

It was a painful stab to the gut you weren’t quite ready to acknowledge, so you were content to play the fool for now as you distracted and tried to deceive yourself.

When another swift knock sounded out from the end of your room, late in the evening once more (just after you had returned from your brief venture out of your room to deliver Haibara’s gift for the day), you were truthfully hesitant to open the door at all. You were currently clinging on to plausible deniability that the note from yesterday may have somehow been a coincidence, that Satoru may not be your secret santa after all. But given how willing he was to completely give himself away as early as day 2, you had a feeling that you wouldn’t be able to live in denial for much longer once you saw what your secret santa had left for the third day.

Nonetheless, you eventually worked up the courage to rise to your feet and slowly make your way to the door, staring down the baby-blue bag standing in front of you as if it were a weapon of mass destruction. A few minutes of deep breaths and self affirmations later and you were slowly, carefully removing the tissue paper from the small bag, only to be faced with a sight that instantly caused your eyes to sting with fresh tears.

A mint green DSI, and a small collection of games. An artifact you thought you had lost long ago, likely forgotten amongst some move between houses.

You barely even noticed the tears falling down your cheeks or the way your heart seized in your chest as you reached for the note, hand over your mouth in both awe and devastation as you read the inscribed words.

“Sorry this one isn’t new, I wouldn’t mind spending thousands on you but I thought you’d prefer this. You left it behind, and I haven’t quite found the time to return it yet. Figured you’d enjoy ;)

- Secret Santa”

This was a confirmation of every thought that had been spinning within your head over the past 24 hours, and as you held one of your favorite childhood toys in your hands for the first time in over a decade, you felt more conflicted than ever on how to handle your relationship with Satoru, or what your feelings for the man were at all any more.

The following days went by in a similar rhythm, though the gifts thankfully became simpler and less nostalgic as time went on. (You weren’t sure if you could handle another late-night crying session as the result of any particularly thoughtful gifts).

Day four had left you with some typical teaching supplies, as Satoru had heard you complaining about the lack of traditional lesson plans within the Jujutsu education system and your desire to teach your students at least some of the things they’d learn in a typical Japanese high school environment over a faculty-wide dinner.

Day five, he had gifted you with some skincare products he noticed were running low after showing up unexpectedly at your hotel room in the middle of the day, pleading with you to let him use your bathroom since he had forgotten his room key inside and Suguru was asleep. The two of you hadn’t spoken much, as he was quickly in and out of your room, but he breathed out a silent sigh of relief once he was securely outside your door as he thanked the universe that you hadn’t thought too deeply into his excuse. It would look pretty ridiculous of him to be insistent on the chance to see you for a moment if you had realized that he didn’t need to stay in a hotel in the city he lived in, after all.

Day six had been the most difficult for you to process since the emotional roller coaster of the third day, and it had been the catalyst for you to finally cave and explain to Utahime what you had discovered about your not-so-secret santa, and what he had done since your revelation. You had done your best to keep her out of it, as you knew she wasn’t particularly fond of Satoru on his best of days and had listened to many of your previous venting sessions about your forgotten friendship with Satoru prior to this exchange. But when you saw what awaited you in your bag on the second to last day of the exchange, and the note that accompanied the gift, you threw your efforts out the window as you finally sought advice from your best friend.

In the bag you were greeted with a complete collection of the Haikyuu manga and a small collection of high-quality lip balms (a collection you had been growing well before you lost touch with Satoru), along with a note much lengthier than the others.

“I don’t know if you’re still all that into this series, but I know how much you loved it when we were younger. Figured this would be better than that body pillow I always threatened to buy you, hopefully you’ll read through them and get to ‘experience the story all over again’ or whatever it is you nerds say.

The lip balms I remember you loving for some reason, but I’m hoping tomorrow I’ll give you a reason to use them. We’re supposed to reveal ourselves anyways, and I’ve got some things I’d like to say. So if you’re willing to listen to an idiot like me blab on about feelings and shit for a while, meet me at our favorite bakery tomorrow night at 7.

- Secret Santa”

You knew that you’d have to face him at some point, as you did eventually have to reveal yourself to your secret santa and exchange a final gift to one another. Yet you were unsure if you should go to this meeting or not, if you were ready to face Satoru’s feelings and demand the explanation you deserved for what had happened so long ago, especially in a place that held such sentimentality to each of you.

You had expected Utahime to talk you out of it, almost hoping she would as you went to here and finally explained to her what had been going on throughout this secret santa exchange. Truth be told, you were terrified at the thought of all your feelings for Satoru possibly being laid out in the open, and were hoping she would give you an excuse to bail.

Unfortunately, she did the exact opposite of what you had hoped, and encouraged you to meet with him in the hopes that you’d finally find some sort of resolution for the feelings you had been carrying in your soul for so long, and that they’d finally either be laid to rest or be given a chance to flourish into something much better for you. Curse her and her rationality, and the way she always had your best interests at heart.

It took nearly a full minute of standing outside the small bakery, your heartbeat ringing through your ears like timpanis ringing through your bones, for you to work up the courage to open the door and step inside, pulling off your winter attire as you glanced at the cozy Christmas eve decorations lining the walls. The bakery was quiet on such a late hour the day before a holiday, and it was easy to spot Satoru (early for once, a fact that made your heart flutter the slightest bit in your chest) at a cozy table in the corner, the same table the two of you frequented throughout your pre-teen years. He didn’t even try to hide the way his eyes lit up at the sight of you, overjoyed that you had actually shown up as he waved you over to your table. His greeting, however, was incredibly lacklustre compared to the week-long build up of tension and emotions between the two of you as an effortless grin spread across his lips.

“Hey.” Was the only word that fell from his lips as you sat down across from him in the booth, the same careless attitude that had always emanate from Satoru’s very being coming off of him now. But this time you refused to play along, refused to ignore the way he had tugged on your heart strings all week long and make casual, meaningless conversation the way you always did.

“Don’t ‘hey’ me, Satoru. You know why I’m here.” You start, face fixed in a stern expression as you fought hard not to let your anxiety peek through onto your features. “Obviously I know you’re my secret santa, but I think we have bigger things to talk about here. Specifically, the way our friendship fell apart.”

Satoru wasn’t surprised in the slightest by the way you jumped straight into the heart of the conversation, he had seen the tension building on your face all week long as you received gift after gift from him. Hell, his own feelings had been much more difficult to contain than usual, with his desire to be close to you, to have you back in his life once more growing by the day. But Satoru was nothing if not unable to admit his emotions seriously, so his relaxed grin remained as he did his best not to let his heart get the best of it.

“Yeah, you’re probably right. I did say I had things I needed to tell you.” He ponders gently, taking a bite of a sugary cream puff laid on the plate in front of him before meeting your gaze with his aqua eyes. “Look, I was an asshole teen, and everything that happened was on me. None of it had anything to do with you.”

Now it’s your turn to be shocked, completely amazed that the Satoru Gojo who had never apologized once as a child was currently admitting complete fault. You were stunned into silence at his words, though your face suddenly showed a layer of openness to his explanation as he continued on.

“When we got to high school I got so wrapped up in making new friends and advancing my technique and all that shit. Honestly, I was a total jerk back then, I dunno if you’d have wanted to hang around me anyways.” He laughs at the remark, but you could tell that this was the real Satoru, briefly peeking through his walls that seemed to melt so easily whenever he was around you. “Plus I had always kinda liked you, but it never really seemed like you felt that way about me. So I used my new friends and my status as a way to not have to talk to you, I was just hoping that it would give me a chance to get over whatever weird crush I had because it would just be pathetic for you to find out about it. But then it went on for longer than I realized, and by the time I figured out how much we had drifted, my pride wouldn’t let me admit why I stopped hanging out with you in the first place. Dumb, I know, but that’s really all it was.”

Satoru seemed so casual throughout his entire explanation, as if he was simply recounting his work day rather than delving into the intricacies of his thoughts and feelings and the reasons why your friendship had fallen apart. And his reasons were stupid, a part of you loathed the way younger Satoru had been so stubborn in refusing to communicate his feelings that he split the two of you apart as a result. Yet another part of you felt so incredibly thankful that the split hadn’t been because of something you did, or because he had stopped caring. It was the most idiotic behavior you had ever heard of, yet you were quick to find it in your heart to forgive him when you heard the next words that fell from his lips.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled, though it was clear enough for you to hear amongst the white noise of the bakery as he tried to hide the bashful look on his face at his words. It wasn’t often that Satoru Gojo apologized, and in fact it was a sight you had never seen from the man in all your time together, and it took everything in you not to interrupt him with words of forgiveness as he continued on. “I considered doing something lame, like pulling a “your gift is me” or some shit, but I got you a real gift instead. I’m just gonna say that I know for a fact that I loved you back then, and I’m pretty sure I do now. So take this gift, and I’m just the bonus, if you’re willing to take it.”

You were practically on autopilot as you took the final gift of the week straight from Satoru’s hands, no longer hidden beneath any bags or bows as your entire body felt as if it were on fire from within. You were completely unable to muster words at the moment as you took in everything you had just heard, trying to fit what he had said into the puzzle pieces of your own emotions as you glanced at the two tickets Satoru had given you, tickets to a concert for your favorite artist.

“Hopefully you’ll let me go with you, but if you decide to kick my ass to the curb and never speak to me again, then you can at least bring a friend.” He told you as he carefully watched your reaction to your final gift, though Satoru was unable to fully hide the way panic spread throughout his entire body like a plague when he noticed tears streaming down your cheeks in waves. Before he could get another word in or even ask you what was going on, though, your eyes met his once more as your voice wavered with emotion.

“You are a complete idiot, Satoru. I spent years missing you and breaking my own heart thinking that you had just forgotten about me completely, that you didn’t remember out friendship at all. I thought my feelings would just be stuffed down and elft unsaid forever.” You chide him as your tears pour out, though the way your hand sets the tickets on the table before reaching out for his indicates that you have more yet to say.

“You’re just lucky that those feelings hadn’t been stuffed down into nothing yet.” You continue as you sneak your hand over to interlink your fingers with his, relishing in the genuine surprise that took over Satoru’s face at the warm feeling. “And the fact that you actually apologized to me for the first time helped too.” You add on, squeezing his hand gently in yours in order to prompt him to look into your eyes.

“.....Does this mean you do want the bonus?” The man in front of you mutters out after a moment, clearly feeling overwhelmed with how emotionally charged the moment is as he tries to lighten the atmosphere with a joke. And it makes his heart sing in his chest when he hears your sweet laughter in response, a sound he had missed most in all the years apart as the both of you began leaning in from across the table.

“......Yes, I guess I do want the bonus. It’s Christmas eve, after all.” You respond with a smile, before taking charge of the moment as you press your lips into his. The kiss is short and sweet, and you know you’ll have to take the relationship slow as you re-learn each other’s personalities and quirks now that you’ve grown into adulthood. Its’ obvious that it won’t be an easy process, that you’ll both have to put in the work to make the relationship work and move past the mistakes of adolescence. But you also know that there will be plenty more kisses to come, because if your childhood friendship with Satoru and the torch you still carried for him left you with anything, it was the knowledge that, to you, Satoru Gojo was worth the work if you could wake up to that gorgeous, smiling face every morning.

A/N: It’s kind of crazy to believe that it’s already the end of the year, and that this will probably be the last thing I write and post this year. I’ll release a longer post being all sappy over the new year later, but for now I just want to say that I’m so happy I found the motivation and excitement to return to this blog this year and branch out into so many fandoms, I’ve had so much fun writing and posting here and I look forward to continuing in 2024! Thank you all for reading this and any of my other works you’ve read this year, I’ve really appreciated the support and I hope I can continue posting good writing in the future :>

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thegnomelord · 1 year ago

Note

feral Mage reader that sees the ropes under Price's clothing and can't help but stare at it all day, but being the cocky bastard he is, he refuses to admit how turned on it makes him when confronted by price

Price Does Shibari

CW: NSFW but no sex, shibari and rope bondage, teasing, military inaccuracies. Shitty and quick but god the brainrots are killing me. Price's chest is like this, ass like this

As a mage, you are many things, chief amongst them — Arrogant. Price is everything you aren't: calm, tactical, humble, and most of all patient. He knows just how impulsive you are and makes it a 'fun' game of riling you up and seeing how long you can go before your arrogance breaks and you're on your knees begging for him.

On the nights you spend in his room you usually wake up first, but this time when you roll over to get a final snuggle with him you find his side of the bed empty. Rolling back over you look around and your blurry eyes settle on his back. God every part of him is your favorite but his back does things to you, the strong muscle shifting beneath his skin with every motion of his arms, the way you can follow the trail of sparse dark brown hair from his shoulders and down his spine to his thick arse and thighs.

But as your vision clears you notice something else; Rope

It's the same color your eyes were before your magic gave them an unnatural glow. The ropes start at mid thigh, tied firm to make his thighs even more plush and squeezable, going up his legs to meet more rope like a garter belt. Knots are tied from his balls up his perineum to crisscross just below his tailbone, going above and along the crease where his arse meets his thighs. It hides his hole but you can't complain when the knots spread and push his cheeks out, giving them better definition that has your hands twitching for a squeeze.

"Did I die and go to heaven?" You can't help but say, shamelessly and obviously groping your cock over the bedsheets.

"Peter would never let you past the gates." He snorts and turns to you, his attention fixed on wrapping the ropes. But he smirks when you feels your eyes take him in.

The ropes wrapping along the crease of his hips come up to wrap and crisscross near his dick, making it stand out. Your eyes trail up, following the intricately tied knots up his torso, the rope bright and vibrant against the backdrop of his dark body hair. You almost swallow your tongue when your eyes arrive at his chest. The ropes tied in more knots create tight triangles around each pec until they're pushes out and perky, creating a diamond shape just bellow the start of his sternum and disappearing over his shoulders.

"Wha'd I do to deserve this?" You ask as you drink him in. You would never have the patience to do something like that, but good god does he look good in this.

"Nothing." He smirks, arms flexing so the rope strains against his muscles and pushes his chest out even more.

Your danger senses should have been triggered there and then, but then he was bending over to grab his pants off the floor and the ropes were spreading his asscheeks wide and you could just about catch a glimpse of his hole beneath the knots and your brain was leaking into your cock.

"You didn't do anything." He continues, and a disheartened noise escapes you when he hides his perfect arse in his pants that are just loose enough to hide the ropes when he stands still or doesn't bend too much. "Doin' this for me sweetheart."

"Liar." You accuse, pushing away the sheets so you can properly grope your cock — a half hearted attempt to tempt him into returning to bed. "You're not seriously going to-"

"Don't forget you have recruit duty today soldier." He cuts you off, a downright evil look in his eyes when he puts on a tight shirt and then a standard issue jacket. "Stop wastin' time with your cock in your hand and get up already."

You barely manage a response before he's going out the door, pausing only to bend over at the last second to tie his shoes and make your eyes go to his arse when the pants strain to contain it.

The day is complete hell for you and Price joins you for the majority of it. You don't take it out on the recruits. You definitely don't target any recruit that eyes Price's chest a second too long(even when you do the same), especially when Price crosses his arms and pushes his chest out and you can just imagine those ropes leaving red lines across his skin and perking his pecs up. You certainly don't throw a ball of magic at the recruit who stumbles face first into Price's chest while doing ash magic training.

It's made even worse for you when you're called for a general meeting for battle strategy and you're standing behind him. Even when you try your eyes still go down to his arse when he bends over the table to point at something and his arse fills out his pants and that has your cock filling with blood faster than anything.

"Mage, are you listening?" Price barks and throws a look over his shoulder, bringing everyone's eyes to you.

"Yeah," You grunt, trying not to draw attention to your predicament. "I'm paying attention."

"Paying real close attention." Gaz snickers next to Soap, their amusement intensifying when you glare at them.

Price continues as if nothing's wrong, going over battle tactics and terrain as if he's not wearing ropes instead of underwear under his pants, as if his chest doesn't push out more than usual when he crosses his arms, as if he can't feel your burning gaze at his back. When the meeting ends you stick around while the others leave, letting your eyes firmly fix on his backside.

"You're awfully distracted today sweetheart." He smirks, turns to rest his hip against the table and cross his arms.

"I'm attentive enough." You argue, trying to appear dismissive. Sometimes your pride is a real killer.

"Mhmm." He hums, "And your lil'lad is definitely not tenting your pants." Price is mean, knows exactly when you try to deflect and is quick to point it out.

"You're imagining." Huffing you wave him off, shifting from one leg to the other to put the pressure of your pants off your poor cock. Your cock's been half-hard for at least half a day, your body begging to feel him— to pull him by the ropes on his chest and kiss him till you're both breathless —even when you stubbornly hold on.

"I'm imagining. Is that so?" He tilts his head, a smug little smirk on his lips. "Well, then you'll be happy to know you're doing graveyard shift with me."

Fuck. A full night of just doing paperwork with him, knowing what lied beneath his clothes, sounded like hell and made heaven sing in your blood. "Lovely."

"Yeah, ah' thought so." Price smirks, turns and bends over the table to grab some documents. You swallow hard when his ass pushes out against his pants, you can just about see a bit of rope peek beneath the material. "Get back to work." He says with a smirk as he stands up, walking away with a seductive and hypnotic sway of his hips.

You're not at your breaking point just yet...

But you're close.

#codmw #cod mw2 #centerpieces of the hoard #male reader #x reader #top male reader #top reader #john price x reader #captain john price #john price x male reader #yes I signed up for a shibari course just for this #I ended up with like three new viruses for looking for this #worth it #answering asks

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shamsrevengers · 10 months ago

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𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗼𝗻𝗲 ;; 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙢𝙤𝙠𝙚 𝙘𝙡𝙤𝙪𝙙 𝙗𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙤𝙬𝙨 𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙢𝙤𝙪𝙩𝙝.

⤷ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ; BONTEN TIMELINE, language, sex, drug abuse/use, violence, toxic themes, overall not for young audiences or those easily affected by subjects of the same nature.

⤷ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ; Haruchiyo Sanzu, Manjiro Sano, Ran Haitani, Rindou Haitani, Kokononi Hajime, Takeomi Akashi, Kakucho, Hanma Shuji.

⤷ ɪᴍᴘᴏʀᴛᴀɴᴛ; this is all work of fiction. in no way am i prompting the acts in this fictional story nor am i encouraging acts done or words said in this piece of writing. i heavily recommend only 18+ viewers as the heavy themes are not the most suitable for a younger audience.

Getting roped into a professional deal meeting was a common occurrence for you. However, you never quite enjoyed these types of gatherings. Unlike headquarters meetings; the ones held in clubs and parties required you to wear anything but your normal suit. Moreover, instead of having your gun conveniently tucked in the back pocket, you had to conceal it in a purse.

Another inconvenience awaited as the meeting with Bonten approached. Despite spending four years as a spy in Hanma Shuji's company, you had successfully evaded any interactions with them. Your reports were always encrypted and sent covertly.

The moment you saw the alert from Hanma on your phone confirming their arrival, you swiftly adjusted your lipstick and pushed open the bathroom doors with a sigh. Your gaze remained forward, yet you couldn't miss the sight of the many Bonten members in your peripheral strategically placed around the area in every corner.

The sight of the blonde and black hair nest caught your attention - it was impeccably groomed, a far cry from the dishevelled and moaning one you were used to. Taking a seat beside him, you tuned into the conversation. "It's been years, hasn't it, Mikey? You've outdone yourself, you bastard," Hanma quipped, nodding towards Manjiro Sano's associates.

You were well aware of their identities. Names, ages, backgrounds, achievements. It was necessary. You needed to be informed, but their suspicious glances towards you indicated that they were unaware of who you really were.

Dispelling any thoughts of the past, Takeomi Akashi redirected the conversation. The air was thick with the smell of his cigar and various drinks. "Let's keep our minds on the present. Have you taken a look at our agreement?"

Hanma looks over at you with a sly grin on his face, his eyes scanning you up and down before he turns his attention back towards Bonten. "I think you already know my answer, don't you?" he retorts, his tone laced with sarcasm and amusement. You can't help but feel a twinge of confusion at his words, wondering what he means by them. The way he delivers his response makes you feel uneasy as if you're missing something important that he's already aware of.

As Kokonoi Hajime asked, "What’s that supposed to mean?" there was a hint of amusement in his voice, but also a touch of sarcasm. Hanma's response was a maniacal laughter, which echoed through the room. He took a big gulp from his whiskey and then softly traced your jawline with his fingers. "The love of my life has been your bitch for years," he said, his tone slightly mocking, "so you must know my answer. Or has she not been doing her job correctly?" The tension in the room was palpable, as the three of you sat there in silence, waiting for someone to break it.

Your gaze was fixated on Hanma's, and your heart raced with panic. The calmness in his demeanour was more terrifying than if he had been visibly angry. Despite the sound of guns being readied in the background, you couldn't tear your eyes away from him. Tears began to well up in your eyes, but you dared not blink, afraid to lose sight of him even for a moment.

As Rindou Haitani's voice echoed through the room, you couldn't help but feel a sense of unease wash over you. You knew that something was about to happen, and the way that Hanma reacted only confirmed your suspicions. His smile was small, but it was enough to let you know that he was aware of the danger that he was in.

Slowly, he lifted his hand away from you, and he could see the look of relief on your face. And you could see the relief on his, it was as if he had been waiting for this moment as if he was finally free from some sort of burden that he had been carrying. He got up from his seat, his movements slow and deliberate as he buttoned his suit.

Meanwhile, your attention was drawn to Bonten, who had all of their guns pointed at Hanma. They were ready for whatever was about to happen, and their expressions were cold and unyielding. You couldn't help but feel a sense of dread as you watched the scene unfold before you, wondering what would happen next.

Hanma, seeming like an imposing figure from your seat, leaned down towards your ear, his hot breath making you flinch. His lips twisted into a sneer as he spoke in a low, menacing voice, "I hope it was worth it, doll." The words seemed to hang in the air like a threat before he straightened up and walked away, his group of mean-looking followers trailing behind him like loyal dogs.

As you sat there, your mind was in a state of shock and disbelief. You couldn't help but wonder why he didn't just kill you, why he gave you away so easily. After all, you had spent four years in his embrace, in his bed, intimately intertwined in his thoughts and desires. How could he simply let you go without a second thought? Had he known all along about your deceitful ways? You were the one who had been breaking hearts and deceiving him, yet somehow the past four years of your life were flashing before your eyes. The confusion and tumultuous emotions were overwhelming, and you couldn't help but question everything you thought you knew.

You flicked the ash from your cigarette, the motion feeling like an act of surrender. The headache that had been plaguing you all night refused to budge, and you leaned your head back against the brick wall of the club. The cold air outside seemed to hit you harder than it should have, the chill seeping through your clothes and into your bones. You felt lost, unsure of what to do next.

As you stood in the dark alley, the sound of footsteps caught your attention. You turned your head to the side and saw a tall figure approaching. It was Haruchiyo Sanzu. The neon lights from the nearby club illuminated his sharp features, casting shadows across his face. The thumping beat of techno music echoed through the alley, creating a surreal atmosphere that seemed to match the intensity of the moment. You looked up at Sanzu, unsure of what was to come, but having the feeling that this encounter would change your life forever.

Sanzu cleared his throat and spoke in a low voice. "Manjiro asked me to pass on a message. Hanma fled. Fucker left in a car that had no license plate and dark-tinted windows. My men were unable to track him down since then. His line went cold." The pink-eyed man's gaze swept over you, all of you. His light eyelashes casting shadows on his pale cheeks.

With a simple and somber tone, you replied, "Hmm," while keeping your gaze directed towards the ground. Despite having finished what he was here for, Sanzu didn't leave. Instead, he positioned himself against the opposite wall and inquired, "Normal?" It took a moment for you to grasp the meaning behind his words as you glanced up at him. "Oh, no. Filtered," you responded, savouring the last inhalation from your cigarette.

Delving into your purse, you retrieved a pack of strong cigarettes and tossed it to him, his reflexes catching it effortlessly. Lighting one with a lighter, he scrutinized the label on the packet. Your eyes landed on the cigarettes, recognizing them as Shuji's. A feeling of discomfort crept into your chest.

"Do you love him?" Sanzu asked abruptly. Your eyebrows furrowed in response, "Pardon?" You scoffed at his question. Despite your many experiences with men like him, their candidness never failed to catch you off guard. "I always thought it was a basic spy rule to not get emotionally involved with your mission," Sanzu exhaled a heavy cloud of smoke.

You let out a chuckle, stating, "After spending four years with him, it's only natural to not be immediately ready to accept the next person your boss will assign for me, no?" Your tone was filled with bitterness and hostility. Sanzu shook his head and firmly declared, "You won't be involved in any espionage shit anymore. Manjiro wants you for us."

“For what?”

“You’re a lawyer, aren’t you?”

After contemplating his words, you directed your gaze towards him. Would you continue to pursue your regular job without any covert involvement with Bonten? The idea of taking a year-long vacation seemed appealing to you.

The aroma of the smoke exuded an air of solace, enveloping your senses with a luxurious embrace. Yet, when it would waft from Shuji, it instilled a sense of unease, leaving you teetering on the precipice of anxiety. Perched on the edge of a metaphorical cliff, your heart would race, fearing the imminent descent into chaos. However, when that familiar scent permeated the air, and when your gaze ascended to witness hues of pink hair instead of the usual dark and blonde, a newfound tranquillity settled within, allowing your breath to flow steadily once more.

The silence was broken by Sanzu, who spoke up abruptly. "He won't leave it alone, you know?" he said, his eyes fixed on you as if waiting for a reaction. "Hanma won't rest until you're buried." His words had an ominous tone to them, but you refused to let them affect you. You maintained eye contact with Sanzu and replied in a calm voice, "I know Hanma is determined, but he would never hurt me." Despite the gravity of the situation, you managed to maintain your composure and speak with confidence.

Sanzu let out a hearty laugh when he heard what you had done. "You locked him down that bad, huh?" he asked, his smirk growing wider as smoke escaped from his nose. You responded with a shrug, not willing to give away too much information. "I guess you'll never know," you replied with a small smile. The two of you stood there for a moment, the tension dissipating as he chuckled at the situation.

He let out a low hum, which seemed to carry a deeper meaning than just a typical conversation ending. Rather, it felt like a subtle challenge, as if he was silently asserting his intelligence and determination to solve whatever problem or puzzle had been discussed. It was a confident, almost daring sound, suggesting that he was not afraid of a challenge and was willing to take on the obstacle of you.

i can fix him (no really i can).

#bonten x reader #bonten #haruchiyo sanzu #sanzu haruchiyo x reader #haruchiyo sanzu x reader #sanzu haruchiyo #tokyo revengers sanzu #sanzu x reader #manjiro sano #kakucho #kokonoi hajime #ran haitani #rindou haitani #takeomi akashi #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyorev x reader #SANZU 💊🤍#Spotify

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lucky-3833 · 2 months ago

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A beowolf giving Nora or Ruby a rough throat fucking after snatching her away from camp. She wakes up do to a lack of oxygen and can only weakly struggle as the beast has it's way with her esophagus. She panics when black starts to tint her vision. As she loses consciousness all she can barely feel the beast unloading it's seed into her stomach. She awakes later back in camp, feeling a little bloated and wondering if it was all a dream unaware of the red eyes watching her from the treeline.

Just for fun I decided to back through my inbox. I’m really bad at deleting stuff I don’t think I’ll answer, so there’s things here from when I first started the blog…like this one, from 2017. I wonder if this anon is even still on tumblr? If they are, it’s their lucky day!

Ruby’s eyes flew open as she felt something cram its way between her lips, forcing her jaw to the limits of its tolerance as whatever it was pushed into her mouth and then down her throat.

What she saw made no sense. Nothing but veins hidden under a swell of black fur…at least, until she managed to catch a glimpse of the white mask of bone above.

A Grimm was in her tent. A Beowolf. And it was-!

She pounded her fists against its belly, uselessly. She might as well have been punching stone, as the Grimm shoved its fucking cock so deep inside of her that she swore the spade-shaped head was buried somewhere south of her collarbone.

Even as she choked and struggled, the fat balls pressed down over her nose smothered her, ensuring that the few faint gasps of air she’d managed to suck down before her throat was plugged were absolutely saturated with pheromones and musk. The Beowolf smelled like sex, fresh sweat and the unmistakable musk of masculinity mingling with the slightest tinge of blood, ensuring that even as his scent drowned her brain she was unable to forget what he was.

He didn’t even bother to pin her arms and legs down as he started to thrust, letting her cock and punch and flail for all the good it did as he languidly raped her throat, each thrust slamming his nuts into her face hard enough to make Ruby see stars.

To her increasing shame, her body was responding. Unwanted though it may be, her baser instincts recognized when a powerful male was present, and knew the appropriate responses. Her thighs rubbed together as heat flushed in her belly, each sloppy jet of precum poured into her stomach only stoking it higher.

The knot started to swell, battering at her lips, but oxygen was becoming a serious concern and Ruby was barely able to muster up the focus to realize what that meant.

And then, there was no way to ignore it. The beast’s knot slammed through her lips, throbbing to its full size and swelling to lock itself behind her teeth, ensuring that nothing prevented it from dumping its addictive, corruptive cum straight into Ruby’s belly.

to her horror, the silver-eyed Huntress trainee squealed silently around the improvised gag, a quick and filthy orgasm rocking through her as her body reacted to its violation. The oxygen deprivation hadn’t helped, blanking out the whole world except for her attacker, forcing her to focus on him.

Now, though, the situation was getting critical. As her belly stretched and swelled, Ruby clawed desperately at the Beowolf’s underbelly as her lungs screamed for air. Her vision began to go dim, and she wondered if this was how it ended for her? She would never learn the truth about her mom, never live up to her legacy…her path towards being a hero was cut short, used as a disposable cocksleeve to help a Grimm dump some cum and without even being considered worth a single second of consideration towards letting her live to be fucked a second time.

It was that thought that was the final one to cross her mind before darkness overcame her. The last thing she saw was the throbbing nuts of the Beowolf clenching as they pumped another rope of jizz into her guts.

…And then her eyes opened again. She bolted upright, gasping in panic, hands flying to her chest.

She was alive? Ruby looked around her tent. No claw marks, no rips in the walls…she felt a bit bloated, and her throat was sore…but maybe she’d just been breathing through her mouth? And if her sleeping bag had fallen over her face…?

It seemed weak, but it was the only explanation she could think of. Hopefully the stomach thing was just her imagination, she’d hate to have some kind of bug out here.

mind still whirling with shame from the form of her ‘dream’, Ruby uneasily lay back down to sleep.

Outside, red eyes glared at her tent through the undergrowth. A fat Beowolf cock, still dripping with her saliva, twitched in anticipation. The next night would arrive soon enough…

#rwby #ruby #Not sfw #lwde #rwby smut #beowolf #grimm

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jellalism · 4 months ago

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Kinktober 2024, Day 11: Strappado

Diluc wants to try something new in the bedroom. It does not go as planned. Sequel to Day 1: Bondage and Day 10: Tight, but can be read as a stand-alone.

Word count: 1236 words

Genre: Hurt/comfort, fluff

Reader’s gender and sex: Gender neutral. No sexual characteristics mentioned.

Content warnings: Sexual content, bondage, panic attack

Notes: This fic contains sexual content, but I cannot call it erotica. This fic is about love, which in this case, includes sex. This fic is a sequel to Day 1: Bondage and Day 10: Tight, but can be read as a stand-alone.

Read below or on AO3.

Since the first time he tied your hands behind your back, the two of you have repeated it many times, quickly becoming one of your favourite positions. The slight discomfort and the sense of submission and trust that comes with it only brings you closer together.

“I want to try out something a little different today, if that’s alright,” Diluc says as he picks up some ropes. As he walks around the room nude, his cock and balls are swinging around, making you salivate.

“What is it?” You are sitting cross-legged on the bed, watching him prepare.

“Strappado. I tie your hands behind your back, but then I tie that rope to the upper beam of the bed, so that you… well, not so much hang, but are forced to bend over.” He lays the ropes on the bed and sits next to you, on the side of the bed.

Your face flushes. “That sounds… uncomfortable.”

“You don’t want to do it, then?” He looks at you patiently.

“I didn’t say that.” You take a few seconds to think it over. “Let’s just try it out. But be careful, alright?”

“Always.” He smiles and places a kiss on your lips. “Whenever you want to stop, tell me.” While he whispers this, he grabs your hands and leads them behind your back. Then, with one swift movement, he turns you around and presses you face down in the mattress. Before you know it, he sits over you, your body captured by his thighs and your wrists by his hand.

“Always so pliable in my hands,” he murmurs. You feel him move to grab the rope, then feel the rough sensation of it rub against your wrists. By now, he knows exactly how tight he can make it. “Since it’s the first time we’re doing this, I’m not tying your legs anywhere.”

When he finishes tying your wrists, he takes you by the shoulders and pulls you up, so that you sit on your knees. “Good like this? Not too tight?”

“It’s good.”

He smiles. “Alright, then get to the side of the bed.” He pats the spot where he wants you. You shuffle over carefully—without your arms to help you, it’s easy to lose balance. And you do lose balance, falling forward. Diluc sees it happen, shooting forward to catch you in his arms. “Easy, y/n.”

You smile sheepishly. “Whoops.”

He presses a kiss on your forehead. Then he turns you around, so that you’re knelt on the bed with your feet hanging over the edge. He stands behind you, fumbling with a rope at your wrists. You look over your shoulder to catch glimpses of what he’s doing. He throws the rope over the high beam and takes it in his hand again.

“When I pull on this, the rope will tense, pulling on your wrists. I’ll tie it once it’s at a good height. But, for Celestia’s sake, don’t push yourself. Let me know when it’s too much. Got that?”

“Got it, mister,” you say teasingly. He chuckles in response.

You face forward. Then you feel an upwards tug at your wrists. The first centimeters, your arms can still move with it. But soon enough, you feel yourself forced to bend over. It’s uncomfortable, it’s distressing—you feel your breath quicken.

Diluc pauses. “Are you hanging in there? Oh—damn, I didn’t mean that as a pun.”

You want to laugh, but only huff. You take a few seconds to collect your breath, to little avail. “I think… I think this is as far as I can go for now. It’s…. it’s scary.” Your voice is shaky.

“Baby. Are you sure you want to do this?” Diluc’s voice is full of concern.

You don’t answer. You’re not sure. What do you want? You’re scared. Scared. Breathing quickly, shallowly. Fear is coursing through your veins. Fuck. No. No, something’s wrong.

The rope loosens, and you fall forward into the mattress. Diluc is beside you immediately, undoing the ropes around your wrists. When he finishes, he pulls you upright, keeping his hands on your shoulders.

“Take it easy, love. Deep breaths. In… and out. In… and out. That’s it, my love.” He rubs your shoulders gently as you continue controlling your breath.

Breathe in… breathe out. Breathe in… and suddenly, you start sobbing.

“Hey, it’s alright, it’s alright,” Diluc coos. He takes you in his arms, his strong arms. The ones that make you feel safe. And you sob louder.

You can’t speak a word. Just cry. You don’t get why—it’s just a position, for Celestia’s sake, you say to yourself—but you can’t stop. Something, something was touched deep inside you. Something that was buried for a long time.

“It’s alright, baby. I’m here for you. You can cry as much as you want.” He keeps whispering sweet words. His steady voice acts as an anchor, bringing you back to reality. Slowly, the sobs subside. You’re still sniffling as he pulls you down, laying on the mattress. He covers the both of you with the blanket and wraps his arms around you again. “I think you need a lot of cuddles tonight, don’t you?”

You nod.

In response, he pulls you closer still, wrapping a leg around you. “Then let’s cuddle until morning.”

You snuggle into his embrace.

His voice is soft and patient as he asks: “Do you want to tell me what happened?”

As you start speaking, your voice is still a little shaky from all the crying. It took a lot of energy. “I-I don’t know, exactly. I just knew something felt wrong. That position, it just… I don’t know, it terrified me. I can’t explain it.”

“Hmm, I see.” He pauses for a few seconds. “I won’t ask you to do it again. I want to make you happy, after all.”

“Diluc… do you feel guilty?” You lift your head up a little so you can look at him. He averts his gaze.

“Well… Yes. Yes, I do. I wanted to try something new, and I made you cry. That’s unacceptable.”

“Look at me, Diluc.” He dawdles, but obliges after a few moments. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Nobody knew this would be my reaction. In fact, I think you were amazing. You were careful with me and immediately stopped when you knew something was wrong.” His face flushes red, but you continue. “Then you comforted me like no other. Making sure I breathed properly, reassuring me that I am loved… The fact that this is the way in which it went wrong, is why I love you so much. It’s why I trust you. Wholeheartedly. I lay my heart in your hands because I know you’ll take good care of it.”

He has closed his eyes—he seems embarrassed. “You… are way too good of a person for me, you know that?”

“I think that about you all the time.”

He opens his eyes to look at you with admiration. Then, his hug suddenly becomes almost crushing. “Your love is gonna be the end of me. It’s more intoxicating than wine. I’ll die from an overdose.”

You laugh. “Alright, alright, Diluc. Don’t crush me now.”

His embrace immediately loosens, but it’s still tight. He wants you close. “I’m not going to let you go for a while. You and I both need cuddles.”

You can only agree to that.

#diluc #diluc x reader #diluc x you #genshin impact #gi #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #male x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #diluc ragnvindr #nsft

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ibijau · 3 months ago

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The Fake dating to real marriage pipeline pt7 / On A03 it's been over a year since the last update oops. Also if I had a tag for this fic I've long forgotten it.

Whatever Nie Huaisang’s plan was to push Lan Xichen to be the one responsible for their breakup, it shone by its subtlety. In fact, Lan Xichen could not see any difference between the days that followed their fake engagement and those that preceded it. Things were just back to normal, with Nie Huaisang once more cooking for him when he came home from work, and Lan Xichen bringing water and reminders to sleep while Nie Huaisang edited his videos. They both avoided talking about the sensitive topic of their fake engagement, and kept their conversation as light as they could.

Then, one evening, Nie Huaisang lingered after dinner, and watched Lan Xichen wash the dishes. It was unusual but not unheard of. As a rule Nie Huaisang preferred to get back to work, clearly worried he’d be roped into helping if he stayed too long. If he stayed, he usually had something to chat about, but for a long while he remained silent. If he hadn’t known better, Lan Xichen would have said Nie Huaisang seemed a little nervous.

"Gege, do you feel like going somewhere Saturday morning?" Nie Huaisang asked as Lan Xichen finished rinsing the last saucepan.

Lan Xichen nodded without thinking. With everything that had happened lately, they hadn't gone on dates in a while and he missed it. He didn’t even bother asking where they’d be going. Half the fun of those outings lay in discovering what niche experience Nie Huaisang had planned that time.

"Wonderful,” Nie Huaisang said, sounding relieved. “I have an appointment for us somewhere at 10 in the morning, so you’ll have to be ready half an hour before that."

"It sounds early by your standards," Lan Xichen remarked, curiosity piqued. "You’re more of an afternoon person usually."

“That place is only open in the morning on Saturdays,” Nie Huaisang lamented, “and I don’t want to make you use a day off for this.

"Now I’m intrigued. Is there a dress code?”

It was rare for Nie Huaisang’s plans to involve a place so fancy that Lan Xichen needed to dress up. In fact, he sometimes encouraged Lan Xichen to dress a little more casually than normal so he wouldn’t stand out too much. Still, Lan Xichen had been raised to worry about that.

“No dress code, no,” Nie Huaisang pensively replied. “But it wouldn’t hurt to dress a little nice, I guess. Not work nice, and not going to a fundraiser nice, but… Maybe family dinner nice, if that makes sense?”

“My uncle’s expectations concerning elegance are far above any fundraiser,” Lan Xichen retorted. “He thinks wearing jeans makes me look neglected.”

Nie Huaisang grimaced. “If I came to a family lunch wearing anything but jeans, my cousins would ask me if I’m going to the bank, or to a fashion show. So… Imagine you’re going to see my family, not yours, alright?”

“It’s about time you introduced me anyway,” Lan Xichen joked.

It was the wrong thing to say. Nie Huaisang startled at the playful reminder of their bet, and took a step back.

“Yes, well… I hope I don’t have to resort to that,” he bitterly muttered. “Listen, just… look clean, and it’ll be enough. It’s not like this really matter.”

He went back to the sofa before Lan Xichen could apologise, and immediately put on a large pair of headphones, a quiet way of signalling he didn’t wish to be disturbed. Even like that, lan Xichen was tempted to be rude and bother him… but what could he have said, when things were the way they were?

By the next morning, Nie Huaisang seemed to have forgotten that unfortunate joke. And on saturday morning he was up early, and for once ready to go before Lan Xichen, looking almost impatient to be wherever they were going. He was dressed in a rather casual manner, jeans and a plain tshirt, so Lan Xichen followed his lead. He chose to wear a pair of jeans that Nie Huaisang had insisted he’d need to wear when he started really dating again, and a white t-shirt he’d been meaning to throw away because it had shrunk a little over time, but which Nie Huaisang had encouraged him to keep. Nothing too special, but Lan Xichen thought he saw Nie Huaisang looking him over a few times as they walked together.

They didn’t go very far. Lan Xichen was puzzled when Nie Huaisang assured him they wouldn’t take public transportation. His confusion only increased as they arrived in front of the city hall. He threw Nie Huaisang a perplexed look, but only got a smug grin in answer before Nie Huaisang grabbed him by the arm and pulled him inside. At the reception, Nie Huaisang gave his name and announced that he had an appointment.

“Ah, yes, at ten,” the woman at the desk replied. “Regarding a wedding?”

Nie Huaisang cheerfully nodded and squeezed Lan Xichen’s arm a little tighter, as if worried he’d try to run away otherwise. For his part, Lan Xichen was too shocked to move or speak. He almost missed the woman’s disapproving look before she went to check if someone was free to see them.

"That was your great plan to annoy me into breaking up?" Lan Xichen managed to ask when they were alone.

“What breaking up? Isn’t this the normal next step in an engagement?” Nie Huaisang retorted with an innocent smile. “You went to the trouble of proposing, of course I need to pull my weight as well. So I thought I’d take care of the administrative side, right? But if you’ve changed your mind…”

“I haven’t,” Lan Xichen coldly replied, fists clenched. “You’re right, this is the normal next step.”

Nie Huaisang pinched his lips, perhaps disappointed that Lan Xichen hadn’t ended things right there and then. He couldn’t try anything more at that point, though. The woman returned, and told them to go meet a city hall employee further inside a corridor to their left.

That employee, an older woman than the first one, welcomed them warmly and immediately started listing every document they needed to give to get married. However certain he’d been that Lan Xichen would run away, Nie Huaisang had still come prepared and gave the employee a complete file with everything she’d requested.

“You even have my birth certificate?” Lan Xichen remarked.

“Of course. It’s easy to get a copy online, and I wanted to surprise you… it’s a good surprise, right?” Nie Huaisang asked, a hint of pathetic doubt in his voice.

Devious. Evil. Adorable.

Lan Xichen wanted to strangle him. Lan Xichen wanted to kiss him and marry him on the spot.

“I’m grateful you did this, I’m no good with paperwork,” Lan Xichen sweetly answered, before turning to the city hall employee. "What's the soonest we can be married, since we brought everything?”

"The minimum legal delay is about 10 days so we can check there are no anomalies,” she explained, smiling as if she found their banter particularly sweet. “But every weekend spots for at least the next three months are already booked, I’m afraid. I can check after that…"

“It doesn’t need to be a weekend,” Lan Xichen told her. “We can do the big party at a later date anyway, but I’d rather have everything legal done as soon as possible. Don’t you, Huaisang?”

“Da-ge works on weekends anyway,” Nie Huaisang sweetly replied. “He’s normally off on Thursdays, so it’d be easier for him to come… And Wei-xiong doesn’t have a real job, he can make it too for sure. But your brother and uncle…”

Forgetting a moment that none of this was real, Lan Xichen considered the situation carefully.

“Wangji needs to take more time off anyway,” Lan Xichen mused. “He works too much. And I think shufu doesn’t have classes on Thursdays this year, so it would be manageable for him to shift around other duties. Supposing he even wants to come, of course.”

It was hard to know how Lan Qiren felt about these things. Lan Xichen had introduced Meng Yao to him at one point, but only as a friend. Considering how old fashioned Lan Qiren was about many things, his nephew had very little hope he'd be thrilled about such a wedding. If it were Lan Wangji getting married, it would be different. Not because Lan Qiren loved Lan Wangji more, of course not, but he was always more forgiving toward his younger nephew, while Lan Xichen was expected to be a role model, someone Lan Qiren could humble brag about.

“Well, Thursday the 25th next month has a free spot at 3pm,” the employee announced. Would that work for you?”

"How does that sound?" Lan Xichen asked, turning to Nie Huaisang.

"It gives us time to plan everything and inform relevant people," Nie agreed with a smile too sweet. “And I’ll have to buy something nice, too. I wonder if I can order a nice wedding hanfu online and have it arrive on time? It would be pretty neat, wouldn’t it? I’d look great in red.”

“You would,” Lan Xichen fondly replied, forgetting again that this wasn’t real.

It was Nie Huaisang’s fault if he kept getting caught in the fantasy, he figured. If Nie Huaisang hadn’t looked so excited, if he’d tried to embarrass him instead of being so serious about this fake wedding, then Lan Xichen would have remembered why they were there.

Caught up in that fantasy, Lan Xichen played along as the employee mark down their chosen date and hour, and told them when to check back with city hall if nobody updated them. They left the room hand in hand, still trying to sell the lie, or so Lan Xichen told himself. Nie Huaisang too seemed to have forgotten why he'd organised this, and he suggested they go celebrate at a nearby restaurant they both loved.

It was only when they'd sat down and ordered, as they waited for their food, that the reality of the situation caught up again with Lan Xichen.

“Do you think we could get in trouble for this?” he mused.

Nie Huaisang put down the colourful cocktail he'd been sipping on.

“I'm sure they don't mind removing the chicken from your salad, really,” he said with a fond smile. “You worry about the weirdest stuff, I swear.”

“I meant about the wedding,” Lan Xichen corrected. “Wouldn't that count as perjury?”

Instantly Nie Huaisang's smile crumbled. His expression darkened, as if he'd truly forgotten why they'd done that, and he took out his phone to avoid looking at Lan Xichen.

“We wouldn't be the first people to cancel a wedding,” he coldly remarked. “In fact, I hear it's pretty common. Stress and all that. But if you're so worried about lying, you know what to do.”

“I'm not worried about that,” Lan Xichen assured him.

He hadn't lied after all. He would have gladly married Nie Huaisang. If there had been perjury, it hadn't been on his side.

“I thought your uncle raised you better than that,” Nie Huaisang gasped with exaggerated concern. “So calm and collected while committing a crime! For shame!”

“You only have yourself to blame,” Lan Xichen replied as seriously as he could. “You are the one who led me down this path, now you must take responsibility.”

“Well, that's why I'm marrying you, isn't it?” Nie Huaisang chuckled as he pushed his hair behind his ear. “One of many reasons, anyway.”

Perhaps Lan Xichen should have put a stop to things right there and then. It would have been the better course of action. But the warmth in Nie Huaisang's voice, but the way his eyes shined, but the slight blush on his face, but, but…

If this was all a game, why shouldn't Lan Xichen play as well? The worst that could happen was Nie Huaisang getting uncomfortable if he was flirted with, and ending this fake engagement. The best that could happen…

But there was no sense in dreaming of something that couldn't happen. It was enough to enjoy the moment, and pretend this was real.

“Now we need to tell people to save the date though,” Lan Xichen mused. “It's not that much time.”

“We're inviting guests?” Nie Huaisang said, frowning. “Really?”

“We've put Mingjue and Wuxian as our witnesses. We need to have them there at least. I'd like to have my brother there too, of course. I'll text him right away… No, wait, it'll get lost in all those messages he gets from Wuxian. I'll post on facebook, he's sure to see it there.”

As he pulled out his phone and opened the app, Lan Xichen caught a glance of Nie Huaisang staring at him with a conflicted expression. Without needing to ask, Lan Xichen knew he had just managed to surprise him again, enough so that Lan Xichen had typed his message and their order had arrived before Nie Huaisang was recovered enough to speak.

“Who else should be there?” he asked, failing to sound as calm as he must have wished.

“Maybe Jiang Cheng? You've known him as long as Wei Wuxian, it'd be rude to not invite him. And on my side… I can't think of anyone. Aside from Mingjue, I don't really have friends.”

“A-Yao did a good job of isolating you,” Nie Huaisang grumbled. “He's good at that. But then there's family. Your uncle… Does he know you're gay?”

“Yes. I came out to him when I was a teen and he took it… Better than I would have expected, although I can't say he was thrilled either. We've never really spoken of it since then.”

“I'm surprised you even told him at all,” Nie Huaisang retorted as he took a picture of his plate. “Bottling things up is more your usual style.”

“I wasn't going to,” Lan Xichen confessed, embarrassed that Nie Huaisang had guessed the truth. “But then Wangji came out to me, and he was really determined to tell shufu, so I asked him to let me test the waters first. I was sixteen, old enough to manage on my own if things didn't go well, but Wangji was just fourteen.”

Looking up from his phone, Nie Huaisang stared again. For the second time in a short period, Lan Xichen felt he had surprised him, although this time without meaning to.

“I didn't know that.”

“I've never told anyone, not even Mingjue,” Lan Xichen explained with a chuckle. “I was so terrified beforehand, but once it was over I just felt stupid for doubting shufu. He has many faults, but I think even at his angriest he wouldn't hurt us. But of course, I only know that now because I realised it that day…”

“I get it. It was like that too when I decided to tell Da-ge,” Nie Huaisang replied with a laugh. “I was half convinced he’d beat me up and tell dad to kick me out. He’s not like that, but… you can never be sure until you’ve done it, right?” he laughed again, more nervously. “You never know how someone will react to something until they’re in that position.”

He took a nervous sip from his cocktail, half emptying the glass.

“I wouldn’t have expected you to say that, mister nobody-can-surprise-me,” Lan Xichen said.

“Yeah, well, I’ve been losing my touch with that,” Nie Huaisang grumbled, pouting so cutely that it was hard to say if he was truly upset or just playing it up for a laugh. “Lan-gege has been very rude to me, really.”

“I’ll make it up to you,” Lan Xichen promised, only to see something akin to hunger shine in Nie Huaisang’s gaze.

He blinked and the hunger was gone, but the memory of it wouldn’t easily be forgotten.

“I wonder how you’ll do that,” Nie Huaisang said, light and flirty.

It was tempting, so tempting… a dozen salacious ideas raced through Lan Xichen’s mind. If they had been truly engaged, if Nie Huaisang had wanted him instead of seeing him as a game to pass time…

But saying anything of that sort might have been pushing their game too far. The goal wasn’t to fully repulse Nie Huaisang. If at the end of this their friendship suffered, Lan Xichen would have lost more than a bet.

“I’ll pay for lunch, first of all,” he announced. “And then we can go to that boba place you like.”

If Lan Xichen hadn’t known any better, he would have said Nie Huaisang was disappointed by that answer. Before he could try to offer anything better, though, Nie Huaisang was smiling again, and demanded they instead try another place for dessert, somewhere that made elaborate crepes and which he’d wanted to cover in a video anyway.

Lan Xichen agreed, naturally.

He didn’t think he could have refused anything Nie Huaisang wanted at that point.

#jau writes #xisang #nie huaisang #lan xichen #mo dao zu shi #mdzs

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