#i do adore him but HIS NAILS ARE AGONIZINGLY PAINFUL- | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ratmonky · 4 years ago

Text

Feigned Innocence

Word Count: 15.4K

Warnings: dub-con, guro, cheating, toxic relationships, gaslighting, manipulation, stabbing, blood, smoking, drugging, choking, cigarette burns, obsession, dacryphilia, innocence kink

AO3 Link

It all felt like a dream. Everything was falling into place.

You were finally getting what you had wished for.

Happiness.

Gojo greeted you in front of the train station with open arms.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, trying to tease him.

He took a step forward to wrap his strong arms around you. “I came here to take you home and also because I missed you.”

“You’re too kind,” you whispered as you pressed your face against his chest while blushing.

Swoosh.

The floor under you changed texture. From tile to hardwood.

When you broke the hug, you saw that you were in his house.

You peered up at him, your eyes met his.

In that small moment of silence, the two of you moved gracefully towards each other. Gojo leaned down and you got up on your tiptoes to kiss him.

The happiest moments of your life had just begun.

~~~

“Can you write the report I left in the office for me? Something came up, I’m gonna go out with a friend and that report needs to be done before tomorrow,” he asked after pressing a chaste kiss against your hair.

“Yes!” Quickly lifting your gaze up to him, you puckered your lips, begging to be kissed and praised.

With a chuckle, he leaned down to give you a short kiss on the lips. “I’ll be back later but I may want to eat at home and-”

“I’ll cook your favorite!” you chirped while watching him put on his shirt.

“You’re the best!” Leaning down, he kissed you on your forehead, “My adorable little girlfriend.”

“Don’t call me that!” you said, blushing.

“What should I call you then?” He raised a brow, smiling. He leaned closer, his hot breath fanning over your lips. “Should I call you my lover?”

You nodded rapidly, cheeks flushing harder. “Y-yes!”

“Ahh, you’re so cute I wanna eat you up.” He pressed another kiss on your lips, this time moving them against yours for a brief moment, promising to give you an actual taste soon. “But I have to leave now, so be good, okay?”

“Don’t stay out too late,” you reminded when he suddenly pulled himself back.

He waved a hand as if to say ‘okay’ while he was getting ready to teleport.

“I love you!” It was you, chanting after him.

Gojo vanished from the bedroom with a grin.

You were the happiest person alive.

~~~

He didn’t come home that night and you ate cold, hard rice after seven hours of waiting.

~~~

“Would you rather wear a cotton shirt or this silk one?”

“Cotton,” he said, hastily. “Black.”

You dug through the closet while he waited patiently on the newly made bed, glancing around the room. Eventually, you found a black cotton shirt just as he asked and gave it to him after putting the silk shirt on his dresser. He put the shirt next to him on the mattress and took your hands in his own to pull you closer towards him.

“I’m sorry for yesterday,” he apologized, looking you in the eye and smiling softly. “I got caught up in the moment and went to stay at my friend’s place.”

“You don’t need to apologize! Your friends and work always come first,” you beamed, sitting on his lap and wrapping your arms around his neck. “I will always wait for you at home.”

Gojo placed a hand on your cheek and gave you a small kiss on the lips. “You’re such a good girl.”

When he came out of the bedroom, fully dressed in his uniform, you were in the kitchen, making him coffee. As you walked to the kitchen table to serve him the coffee he offered you a gentle smile, his eyes becoming softer.

“Did you finish the report?” he asked.

“I did! I faxed it to the principal in your contacts like you told me to as soon as I finished it!” You sat across from him on the table with a coffee mug in your hand.

“Good girl,” he let out a sigh in relief before taking a long sip from his coffee.

A brief moment passed.

“You know,” he started, “thanks for all of this, (name).” He was staring down into his own reflection on the coffee. “I’m lucky to have you here and in my life.”

Your cheeks flushed a bit. “It’s the least I can do for you!” you said quickly. “I should be the one saying how grateful and lucky I am that you even chose me as your girlfriend. I love you so much! I’ll do my absolute best!”

He offered you a small smile, “That’s my girl.”

~~~

You two had met through a friend and clicked instantly. Having begged Utahime to introduce you to Gojo was something you weren’t that proud of. You wanted to meet him so badly. However, although everyone wanted to meet the famous Satoru Gojo, it was him who decided who was worth his time.

You being a total worshipper for the strongest Jujutsu Sorcerer alive was a good enough reason for him to consider meeting you.

He loved women who loved him blindly. He enjoyed being worshipped as if he was a God and you were ready to devote your entire existence to please him.

After only one dinner date he asked you to move in with him. You knew it was because he fell in love with you the same way you fell in love with him at first sight.

Satoru Gojo was madly in love with you.

~~~

“Promise you’ll only love me and me only.” You were begging as he was biting your neck, licking the sensitive skin before he pulled back to focus on his hands between your bodies.

His hands cupped the supple flesh of your chest, moving his hands down to let his thumbs run across the swell of your breasts with a grin.

“Promise me,” you pleaded. Your brows furrowed in worry, your lower lip was trembling. You wanted to be happy. Gojo knew your past. He had promised you to keep you safe, that was why you moved in with him, right? He loved you. He madly loved you. “You’ll only love me.” Love me. Love me only.

He dipped his head in a nod, sliding his hands further down your body following your curves until he could grab you by the hips.

Decidedly he wrapped a hand around the base of his cock, moving his fist slowly up and squeezing harder as he reached the tip. His shoulders shuddered at the sight of your innocent face, so scared and trusting of him. You were begging for his attention and love. He used his free hand to caress your cheek, you immediately leaned into his touch, desperate for him. “I like this expression on your face.”

Your eyes widened at his compliment. He loved your face.

Gojo pushed the tip of his cock inside you.

“It hurts…” you mewled, pushing him weakly on the chest with your tiny hands compared to his broad torso.

“It’s your first time, of course, it’ll hurt.” Gojo leaned forward to kiss you, discreetly proving that you could never push him away with your nonexistent strength. “Besides, it’s not even halfway in, you can endure it, right? For me?”

Nodding, you gingerly put your hands on his shoulders, pulling him closer and sliding your hand up into his soft hair seconds before he pressed his lips against yours. While you were clumsily kissing him back, you also tried holding back your whimpers as he surged his hips forward until the entirety of his length was inside your pussy.

A shaky moan escaped you and your nails dug into the skin of his back, you dragged them down as soon as he pulled his hips back to suddenly slam into you.

“Gojo,” you breathed into the kiss, mouth popping open in pain. Your arm wrapped around his neck to have something solid to hold onto.

“Satoru,” he corrected before kissing you once again, twirling your tongues around each other and picking a pace for himself.

Ah, yes, he was the closest person to you now. Your boyfriend and maybe even your husband-to-be. Ahh, so precious. The excitement and embarrassment made your cheeks flush.

He pulled back from the kiss and grinned at you, pulling out of you momentarily. “What’s my name?” He used a hand to move his cock between your folds and smear the blood of your innocence on your soaking wet cunt.

“S-Sator-ah!”

Gojo snapped his hips forward abruptly and chuckled as he pulled his hips back. “Sorry, I couldn’t hear what you said.”

You pouted, staring at him with your glossy eyes. “You’re being mean.”

“Am I?” He thrust into your slick heat slowly, almost agonizingly, stroking your insides in a way that made you question if you had been fingering yourself all wrong. Even when you were doing it on your own, you would imagine Satoru Gojo on top of you, the strongest, the most handsome Jujutsu Sorcerer alive. You had never thought he would be your first but oh, you were so lucky. You were under him and got to see his face as he took your innocence.

Romantic.

“I love you so much, Satoru.��

He stopped moving, his shoulders stiffened as the two of you met eyes. He looked a little surprised and at a loss of words.

Your nails dug and scratched at his shoulders as you whined at his abrupt silence. He was never quiet. Always running his mouth and teasing you.

“You love me too.” It was more of a question than a fact. You were desperate for him to say it. You needed to hear it. “You’ll only love me, right?”

“Yeah,” he replied and put a hand over your mouth. “Now, keep quiet so I can feel good. You want me to feel good, right?”

You nodded hesitantly.

Gojo smiled, it was that gorgeous smile he only flashed to you. It was only directed at you, made you feel like you were at the center of his world.

He let out a low hiss as your virgin walls tightened around his cock and caught him by surprise. His cock throbbed as he tried stealing a few more precious thrusts into your slick heat but he was already at his limit from you clenching around him.

So, he pushed his hips forward until the entire length of his cock was inside of you and the tip of his cock was pressing against your cervix. An audible growl-like moan left his gaped open mouth, seconds later you felt warmth filling your belly.

“I’m… I’m gonna take a shower,” he announced, pulling out of you and pushing your hands away from him.

“Should I join you?” you asked alluringly as you sat up on the bed. You were hoping to have your body pressed against his, feeling his warmth under the steaming hot water and all.

“No need.” He left the bedroom after putting on the previously discarded boxers he picked up from the floor.

A long moment passed before you managed to get up from the bed to change the sheets that were smeared with the blood of your innocence.

You grimaced slightly, you didn’t like the sight of blood.

~~~

The next morning, Gojo woke up to the pleasant smell of coffee and toast. He stared at the newly washed clothes you had put out for him and put them on.

He headed to the kitchen to find you flipping through a magazine. The coffee and toast were all ready on the table. There were only two plates set on the table which alarmed him slightly.

“You’re also gonna eat?” he asked.

You let out a little screech of surprise, jumping a bit into the air at the sudden noise. Closing the magazine, you turned around to face him. “Ah, good morning!”

He didn’t repeat his question.

“Did you say something?”

“No, nothing.”

“Can we eat quickly? I really need to leave for work before seven today.”

He hummed absently and took his place at the table. “Kyoto today?”

You shifted awkwardly on your feet while nodding. “It’s Friday so I’ll be helping Utahime with the third years if they get injured. They are all going out on field jobs today.”

“Isn’t it pointless?” he asked.

“What?”

“Do you even need to work when I’m here? I can do the hard work for you.” Gojo took a big bite from his toast.

You smiled and took your seat across from his. “So you just want me to wait for you at home?” Just like a wife waiting for her husband.

“Yeah, I want you to stay here and look pretty for me, I don’t wanna see you in your pajamas without any makeup all day.” He was taking a sip from his coffee before it got quiet and he realized he had made a mistake when he saw your expression.

“Sorry,” you murmured before getting up from your seat. “I was thinking of doing my makeup after breakfast but I’ll do it now.”

It was Gojo who should have apologized but he wouldn’t speak.

By the time you came back to the kitchen, Gojo was getting ready to leave. He took you to Kyoto by teleporting, telling you to call him when you were done so he could take you home moments before he vanished.

You didn’t know where his house was located, nobody knew. He took you there by teleporting only and you couldn’t leave the house without him. These were the rules.

Now, he wanted another thing.

Your phone vibrated in your purse and you dug around to find it. Once you managed to grab your phone to check the screen, there was a text message you knew he would send to you but not this soon.

‘Quit your job.’

Quitting was easy but having to answer Utahime’s invasive questions about the reason why you were leaving was more difficult than you would have liked it to be. You were able to dodge her specific questions with simple answers and finally get to say farewell before she could start asking you if it was related to a romantic relationship.

You hadn’t told her about Gojo. He wanted to keep everything a secret to keep you safe from any harm.

At the end of the day when you called Gojo to come to get you, unlike Utahime, he was happy that you quit. With a single peck on your lips, he made you forget about the empty feeling you had in your heart about leaving your work.

Meh, there were many different nurses in the jujutsu world, your absence wouldn’t make that much of a difference. They would definitely replace you with someone better and maybe even with someone who had cursed energy.

“Today was a loooooong day!” Gojo threw himself on the couch, “Can’t you cut up some fruit for meeee~?”

Obediently walking into the kitchen you cut some peaches on a plate and brought it to the living room, placing it on the coffee table. “Would you want to have something to drink as well?” you asked with a smile.

He had taken off his blindfold and he looked thoughtful but it was obvious that none of his thoughts were about what you had just asked him.

“You’re a weird girl, (name),” he said, taking a slice of peach into his mouth. “You quit your job because I told you to and you’re willing to stay here in this house without ever leaving.”

You sat on the couch next to him. “Well, it’s what you want,” you said as you reached towards the fruit plate to take a peach. “I’ll do anything you ask me to.” Parting your lips, you took the slice inside your mouth. You chewed slowly, savoring the taste. “I’ll do anything to please you.”

“Ahh, having a girlfriend is nice.” Gojo grabbed the fruit plate and eased back onto the couch’s cushions. “I’m so lucky~” He was busy eating the peaches as he turned to face you. “I thought you were just a shy little thing at first but you’re just passive, huh?”

“What does that suppose to mean?” you asked, leaning towards him, undeniably and unconsciously exposing your cleavage to him.

He smirked, mirroring your move and leaning in closer. “You’re nothing like what I imagined.”

All of a sudden, your heart fluttered. “I-is that a compliment?”

He raised a brow, “Maybe.”

You chuckled nervously, “What do you mean?”

“It’s up to you if it’s a compliment or not,” shrugging, he waved his hand in lieu of speaking to let you fill in.

You crossed your legs before shifting on the couch. “I’m confused,” you said as you rolled your eyes and laughed forcefully. “Are you messing with me?”

He stayed quiet but certainly, he had a story to tell. A story of innocence if not corruption.

“Are you comparing me to someone?” you dared to ask.

Gojo nearly dropped the plate he was holding. There it was. The silence returned.

He could have denied it but he didn’t.

“Satoru?”

“Do you think this place will provide you everything you’re seeking?” he finally spoke, ignoring you.

“Uh,” you looked embarrassed, “I’m happy here right now and I’ll surely be happy in the future.”

It wasn’t a lie.

You enjoyed being here.

Although it had barely been a week, you were already attached to Gojo. This place felt more like a home than any other place you had stayed.

“I’m glad.” His tone was softer than before, “Not everyone would be able to fit in as quickly as you do.”

You nodded languidly as it became dead silent again.

~~~

“I don’t like girls who smoke.”

He made you quit smoking.

“It’s weird when you smile showing your teeth.”

You covered your mouth when you laughed after that.

“I like it when you’re so timid.”

He wanted you to act innocent.

“It’s cute when you cling to me like that.”

It felt like he was looking through you instead of looking at you.

~~~

You jolted awake when you heard the sound of a whistle, it sounded almost like a strong wind.

Rubbing your eyes, you sat up on the bed. The clock on the nightstand read past two in the morning and Gojo wasn’t sleeping next to you.

“Satoru?” you called after him but got no answer.

Something was wrong.

A phone vibrated on the nightstand. Crawling on the bed, you reached for the phone that wasn’t yours. The lock screen lit up and you squinted your eyes at the bright light. It was a picture of Gojo and his student in the background, your boyfriend was grinning while his student stared at the camera with a stoic expression. Over the picture was a notification. A text message.

When a person stares at a bunch of words, they read it without thinking, it was almost instinctively for humans to read words if they knew what they meant. That was how your brain was programmed to work.

Yet no matter how many times you read the text message, you weren’t able to understand it.

Before you could try to make sense of the words the phone disappeared from your grasp.

You jumped out of the bed.

“Satoru?!”

Nobody answered back.

As you were looking around, you saw that the closet’s door was wide open, the silk shirt from on top of his dresser was gone.

No, no, no.

Walking out of the room, you toured the entire house, searching for your tall and buff boyfriend in every corner as if he could hide.

He wasn’t here.

Okay, calm down. He was out for a mission. Yeah, that was it.

However, even after you went back to bed, you couldn’t sleep until he returned just before the sunrise.

You pretended to be asleep as Gojo quietly took off his clothes and got in the bed. He didn’t snuggle into you or got closer to you because he reeked of cigarettes and sweat. Maybe, you were right. Curses left strange smells like this on your body after being exorcised, he clearly had gone out for a mission.

Gojo was the strongest, he had to be there if anyone needed help.

~~~

You cooked a warm meal for Gojo every evening but he never once arrived home before the food got cold and packed into the fridge in a container.

Tonight, instead of wasting your time cooking, you wanted to have a pamper day and decided to spend all evening in front of the television, watching a movie while drinking ice cold beer after a long and relaxing shower.

“I’m home!”

Your shoulders tensed when Gojo suddenly appeared in the middle of the living room.

“Welcome home,” you replied, turning your head to look at him. He never came home this early. “How was your day?”

Walking around the couch, he plopped down next to you and immediately pulled you next to him. “It was such a long and busy day today, argh! What’s for dinner? I’m starving!”

“I… I didn’t cook dinner today.”

“Then why are you here?” he asked while grabbing the beer from your hand to take a sip.

“Huh?” You were genuinely confused, staring at him.

“Do you even love me?” he questioned you openly, “I asked you to move in so we could live like a couple and-”

“You’re never home when it’s time for dinner,” you cut him off, trying to defend yourself. “I-I just thought it would be better to save rice and didn’t cook today. I didn’t think you’d come home this early.”

“So what if rice gets a little cold?” He chugged the beer down to its last drop and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before speaking. “It’s the gesture that counts but I guess you don’t love me. Is that it?”

“No!” You turned to face him on the couch, denying his childish accusations. “I love you more than anything, you know that! I’ll cook now, I’ll cook whatever you want so tell me.”

“No,” he replied, leaning forward to put the beer can down on the coffee table. “I lost my appetite. I thought you loved me, (name).”

You were getting frustrated, your voice cracked as you tried telling him about your feelings. “I love you, Satoru!”

“Maybe I should get another girlfriend since you don’t love me anymore.”

Your stomach dropped, the uneasy feeling started to settle in. An ugly pause was there, your lips curled down to form a hideous frown.

Watching your expression, Gojo pulled down his blindfold and started grinning like an idiot. “I was just joking!” he laughed audibly and forcibly, “Gotcha!”

You didn’t laugh with him.

~~~

“I love you,” you said directly after wishing him goodnight.

“Hmm, goodnight.”

He drifted into slumber right away.

~~~

Just before Gojo was about to leave for work the next morning, you asked him to take you to the grocery store for five minutes.

You bought all the necessities, milk, instant coffee, bread and-

“I’ll take one of these, short.” You froze and quickly corrected yourself. ��No, I’ll have the long pack, thank you.”

The cashier pulled out the cigarettes you pointed at from the displays and told you your total. After paying you stuffed the pack of cigarettes down your pocket and put the rest in your bag.

“Ma’am the receipt?” the cashier asked, it looked like she had been calling out to you a couple of times because everyone who was on the line behind you was staring at you.

“Throw it,” you replied. He didn’t need to know. He could never know.

When you exited the store, Gojo was grinning down at his phone. As soon as he noticed you, he put this phone away. “Ready?”

You nodded and he held your hand.

With a blink of an eye, you were back inside the same house you hadn’t left in so long. Between four walls that surrounded you.

You needed fresh air, it was suffocating. A whole week and maybe longer inside here without any contact with other humans. You woke up to Gojo’s pretty face illuminated by the morning sun and fell asleep while watching his gorgeous face.

He was all you were seeing even when you closed your eyes.

“Bye.” Gojo pressed a kiss on your lips and vanished.

Now, you were alone.

All alone.

Dropping your bag, you headed towards the kitchen. Pulling a chair from a table, you put it in front of the gas range and turned the exhaust fan on its highest setting. You took out the cigarettes from your pocket and sat in the chair before lighting up one of the gas stove burners by turning the knob. There was a continuous clicking sound before the flames appeared.

You ripped your cigarette pack open and took one single cigarette out, promising yourself that this was your last, you needed this. You needed to relax.

After putting the cigarette between your lips, you leaned down to light the tip using the stove burner from between its grate. You inhaled deeply, the tobacco from the tip burned and traveled towards the sponge end and into your mouth. Your shoulders relaxed as your lungs filled with smoke, with the tinge of nicotine.

The first inhale was heavenly. Always had been.

You exhaled towards the exhaust fan, letting it suck up all the nasty smell of tobacco and leaving no evidence other than the faint smell of something that was closer to a paper burning. Once you cooked the salmon you were planning to cook tonight for dinner, the smell would be completely gone.

You didn’t need to stress over anything. You could enjoy your cigarette and-

Your fingers burned.

When you stared down, you saw that you had already finished your cigarette and the sponge was about to burn. You stubbed it out on the countertop before taking one more cigarette from the pack. Then another one. And then another. Then one last cigarette and then one another last cigarette and then-

You finished an entire pack of cigarettes in a single day.

That had never happened before.

No, you had one single cigarette left. You… You were going to save it. For one day if you ever felt this much pressure.

Your throat hurt but the nicotine in your system… It felt good. You felt relaxed, stress wasn’t present anywhere, not anymore. It was as if you were yourself again.

Once again, you were the happiest person alive.

~~~

You sat at the dinner table with the now ice-cold salmon and many garnishes you had cooked specifically for Gojo who hadn’t even bothered to text you if he was coming late or if he was coming home at all.

The kitchen was clean, cigarette butts and the pack were thrown into the trash while the entire house smelled of bleach and fish.

You were smiling, wearing that sundress you knew he liked as you waited for him to come home, unsure how long time had passed since the dinnertime. Although your phone was right in front of you, seeing the time could make your smile falter so you avoided checking the time.

He would come home.

At any moment now.

Eventually.

~~~

Gojo never came home that night.

~~~

You were the dumbest person alive.

~~~

Gojo was lightweight when it came to drinking. He only drank alcohol in the comfort of his own home and always expected you to clean after him.

He was childish and he didn’t know any manners.

But at least, he loved you.

~~~

It was a late Friday night.

“Are you drunk Satoru?” you started giggling and you could see how red his face was becoming. He clearly was drunk. You walked over to him and tried lifting him up from the couch. “Let’s get you to bed!”

He groaned, refusing to move while slurring words about how pretty you were and how he wasn't drunk.

You laughed at him, telling him that he was drunker than drunk. If he had one more glass of hard liquor, he could pass out. You were sure of it.

Letting go of his hands, you leaned forward and captured his cheeks between your hands. “You’re drunk and you need to sleep now. You promised to take me out on a date tomorrow.”

Gojo ignored your words and puckered his lips.

A forced chuckle left you before you closed the distance between the two of you so you could press your lips against his.

He pulled you into his lap and deepened the kiss. His lips were moving hungrily against yours, savoring the taste of the light beer you had on your lips along with your own sugary taste.

You were both drunk.

“We should just sleep,” you told him, breaking the kiss. “I made reservations and planned out the entire day for us because I knew you wouldn’t.”

“It’s no fun when you act responsible,” he murmured, pressing his forehead against yours. “We should be reckless like teenagers.”

“We’re adults, Satoru. You have to grow up,” you whispered softly.

“Being an adult doesn’t mean we have to be responsible all the time.” He groped a handful of your ass and lolled out his tongue to lick your lips.

“Ew!” You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand while using your free hand to push him away but he wrapped his arms around you and forced you to lie on the couch with him.

“Let’s sleep here,” he mumbled. “I like it like this.”

You let out a sigh in defeat. If it meant that you two would be sleeping, you didn’t care. “Okay,” you replied.

“Can you pet my hair?” he asked smugly, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you flush against his chest.

You gave in to the drunk dumbass and started carding your fingers through his silky straight hair.

The two of you lied together, listening to the sounds of the outside world. Time passed slower than slow as if it didn’t exist.

You liked being curled up like this. “Satoru,” you murmured softly, still petting his hair.

He hummed lowly and smiled. “Yeah?”

“What do you like about me?”

His tired, half-lidded eyes widened and he forced a chuckle. “You’re way too straightforward. Did anyone tell you that before?”

“I’m just asking because I’m curious and I kind of want to know what made you want to have me beside you.” You chewed on the inside of your cheek as you combed your fingers through his soft hair. “If you don’t want to say anything, that’s fine. It was childish of me to ask.”

“It’s fine but even if you ask me a question like that… I don’t think I can answer it that simply.” He blinked slowly. “I’m already a proper adult by your own definition, haha, yet I’m still a brat when it comes to talking about serious stuff like this.”

You tugged at his hair, scratching his scalp. “But it’s an easy question.”

Gojo froze for a moment and looked at you. With the way you looked back at him, he could see how badly you were in love with him.

“It indeed is an easy question but hmm… Where do I even start?” he chuckled to himself. He cupped your cheek in his hand and your eyes fluttered from his touch before you closed them happily. “I like the way you blush when our eyes meet and I like how you cling onto me to feel safe.”

You opened your eyes but kept your fingers tangled in his hair, gently caressing it and watching him.

“What about you?” he asked.

“Huh?”

“What do you like about me?” He was smiling tiredly, ready to fall asleep at any given moment.

“I like your eyes,” you snuggled closer to him with a giggle. “I like how childish you are and I like your face.”

Something closer to a laugh escaped him, it was the first genuine laugh you had heard coming from him. “Is that all?”

You hummed in response.

“Well, in the end, you like me,” he mocked. “And that means you have terrible taste in men.”

You cutely pouted your lips. “What does that supposed to mean?”

“You like flamboyant and irresponsible guys.”

“Where did you get that idea?” A quiet giggle escaped from you.

“You like me,” he said, smirking widely as he closed his eyes, ready to fall asleep in an instant.

Taken aback by his remark, you were quiet for a moment.

He carefully placed a hand on your hip as he moved his hand under the skirt of your sundress, and then he whispered. “Let’s have sex.”

“W-what?”

“You heard me.” Gojo moved closer to you and opened his eyes to reveal the lustful haze in them. He was already breathless for finally having you so close.

You held your breath and trembled as he grabbed a handful of the soft flesh of your ass. You gasped at the feeling of his big hand.

“(name),” he moaned into your ear as his hand jiggled your ass. “You’re so soft.”

Hearing your name come out from his lips made you feel euphoric.

“Satoru…” you exhaled slowly, it was getting hot. Your eyes lingered on his broad shoulders and sharp features. “You are so handsome, Satoru.”

Gojo stared at you, studying every detail of your face with a goofy grin on his own.

“Stop staring!” You covered your face with your hands and tossed around in embarrassment while your legs got into a tangled mess with his. “Don’t stare.” You stole a quick glance in his direction to see if he was still looking at you and found his smoldering blue eyes intently watching you.

The corners of his lips turned upwards slightly at the way you blushed. “Goodnight, (name).”

“G-goodnight and sweet dreams,” you shyly said it back. “I love you, Satoru.”

He didn’t respond and instead pulled you closer towards himself.

You were the happiest person alive.

~~~

The two of you stood at the top of a hill after a long day of checking around the many restaurants and coffee shops in Shibuya. The night wind kissed your skin as the stars glimmered through the entire sky above you.

You had thought he was taking you home when he teleported. He wasn’t the type to do romantic stuff either but you hoped living together for a week had started changing him.

“It’s beautiful,” you said, holding his hand tightly. “Where are we?”

“Somewhere remote and without any city lights to ruin the image of the sky.” He pulled you in front of you and wrapped his arms around your shoulders. “I wanted to thank you for being with me. I’m not the type of person others tolerate much.”

“Satoru, I love you with all my being, you don’t need to thank me for anything. I should be the one saying all of this, thank you for loving me and giving me a place in your life.” You tried turning around to face him but he tightened his arms around you and kept you in place.

It was quiet for a while as both of you watched the sky.

“It’s nice being under the night sky like this,” Gojo said.

“It really is.” you agreed. The view was perfect, breathtaking.

“It’s very quiet.” He was right about it being very quiet, you were far far away from any city, the only thing you could hear were the sounds of crickets and the trees shaking from the strong summer breeze.

You sighed softly, “It’s peaceful that way.” Your body shivered.

Gojo noticed that you were only wearing your sundress and unwrapped his arms around you, “Wait here, I’ll be back.”

“What?” As you were turning around to look at him, he vanished.

Giving an exasperated sigh, you wrapped your arms around you to keep yourself warm but before you could internally complain about Gojo leaving you alone in the middle of nowhere, you felt a blanket being draped over your shoulders.

Startled, you whipped your head around to stare at your boyfriend’s grinning face. He pointed at the blanket he had laid out on the grass. “Let’s stay here for a while, alone together.”

A smile tugged at your lips as you walked towards the picnic blanket. “You brought sake?” you laughed, grinning widely.

“And some sweets!” He struck a pose before getting comfortable on the blanket, lying on his back and watching the stars. “I thought it’d be nice to enjoy some time here and I don’t know… Listen to you talk about how much you love me? We should make that a weekly thing. One night you just talk about how much you love my appearance and- ah! (name)!”

You threw yourself on top of him, clashing your lips together. “I love you,” you gasped into the kiss and rubbed yourself onto his crotch. “I love you, Satoru.”

He started laughing, so much so that you started laughing along with him and stopped kissing him. His hands went to your hips, “Who knew you would actually try to attack me, maybe I shouldn’t turn off infinity when I’m with you.”

“But then you wouldn’t get to experience this.” With a seducing smile, you lifted your hips up from his crotch and reached under the skirt of your dress to slide your panties down.

“The night just keeps getting better and better.” Gojo used a single hand to hastily tug down the front of his pants to release his half-hard erection. His large hand wrapped around the base of his cock and he started jerking himself off to the sight of you.

“Every night could be like this if only you could come home early.” You were telling the truth. He was almost never home and when he was, you saw him barely for a couple of minutes before he left for work.

“Is that a promise?” The smile in his voice was mocking. He dragged the tip of his cock along your wet folds as you were trying to find the most comfortable position.

“Why don’t you try and find out?” You reached between your legs to put the tip of his cock against your entrance and Gojo pulled his hand away from his cock to place it back on your hip.

You lowered yourself on the length of his cock, gasping audibly at the feeling of his girth stretching your walls. His fingers dug into the flesh on your hips enough to leave bruises when you abruptly slammed yourself down to take the last bit of his cock inside your pussy.

Now, his entire length was inside of you, throbbing and aching to be taken care of.

“(name),” he rasped, “Don’t move so suddenly- ah!”

Lifting yourself up you slammed yourself down his cock and continued moving your hips that way. The pace you had picked was the most pleasurable for you, his cock was stroking all the good spots each time you shook your hips and it made your legs jolt in ecstasy.

Gojo’s hips started moving along with your own, he raised his hips up from the picnic blanket to slam into you at the same time you slammed down onto his cock.

A pleasure-filled scream tore out of you as you lost your balance and placed your hands on his abdomen, continuing to frantically bounce on him.

You stared down at him, at his gorgeous face being illuminated by the moonlight, his eyes sparkled brighter than any of the stars in the sky. The most genuine look of pleasure was plastered all over his face, he was looking at you in admiration.

Your walls clenched around him, the knowledge of fucking Satoru Gojo was enough to make you cum on the spot. He was all yours, all yours forever.

Groaning at the sensation of your pulsating walls around his cock, Gojo suddenly moved and took you under him. He grabbed you by the back of your knees and pushed them up towards your chest until he could mount you entirely.

He surged his hips forward hurriedly and pulled back with the same speed. His pace was brutal and frenzied. He was thrusting into you like his life depended on it, his hips wouldn’t stop moving.

Oh, how good it felt to be wanted so desperately by Gojo.

The man mentioned was putting his entire weight behind his thrusts, going so deep in your pussy that you sower the stars in the sky multiplied.

“I want to see your crying expression,” he groaned, saying it in the heat of the moment but there was something underlying beneath those words.

You didn’t get to ask him what he meant as he slapped his hand on your neck with enough force to crush your windpipe. Your mouth popped open in pain but you couldn’t make any noise while his large hand wrapped around your neck tightly.

He had this intense look in his eyes, focused only on your eyes, hoping to see them become glossy with tears or better yet see your entire face get stained with tears.

“Cry.”

Panic started to settle in, your hands went to his hand around your neck, you tried digging your fingers under his own to release yourself from his grip.

His hips were still moving, he was continuously thrusting into you with a sinister smile on his face.

You started tearing up from the pain, eyes turning reddish and face turning blue. No matter how much you tried inhaling, you couldn’t breathe with the pressure on your neck.

When tears finally streamed down your cheeks, Gojo immediately let go of you and buried himself deep inside your cunt. His cock throbbed before he spilled his entire load in your womb.

You were coughing, desperately sucking in air in your lungs as he pulled out of you. “W-why-ah! Why did you (cough) do that?!”

“Sorry.” He threw himself next to you on the blanket, chest heaving rapidly.

“That didn’t sound genuine!” you wheezed in anger.

“I apologize. I won’t do it again.” He slapped a hand on his face and dragged it down slowly. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re just sorry-?!”

Gojo turned to face you and looked at you with such innocence that you forgot why you were mad. “It was wrong, I won’t do it again, okay?”

After a long moment of silence and you calming down enough to forgive him, Gojo opened the sake bottle he had brought while you were wiping yourself up with your panties.

He offered you the cup he filled as soon as you sat down next to him and you hesitantly took it from him. The cup he poured for himself was empty within a second, he refilled his cup and chugged the beverage to pour even more in his cup. His face was completely red, it was obvious that he was a light head.

“Satoru, take it slow, you took us here, I can’t take us back home,” you warned but your words fell on deaf ears. Gojo chugged another cup of sake and finally, he dropped onto the blanket with his eyes closed.

“Don’t just fall asleep!” Your eyebrows rose, you were laughing at his childish way of dealing with you.

You put your own sake cup down and grabbed the extra blanket he had brought with him. Lying next to him, you pulled the blanket over the two of you.

The sky above you was straight out of a painting, beautiful and bright. You saw a shooting star.

“Satoru!” you excitedly said, lightly tapping on his chest. “Make a wish!”

Gojo’s eyes snapped open and he stared up at the sky above him. “Did a star fall?”

“Yes! Ahh! I saw it for the first time, I had never seen a star fall like that!” You felt him pull you closer towards himself, a bright smile was plastered on his face.

“I wish that you’ll always be like this.”

“Like what?” You raised a brow.

“Childish.”

“I’m not childish.” You blushed.

“Satoru, ooohhhh Satoru, look a star! Oh my! Make a wish, Satoru, make a wish!” he mocked your previous excitement over the shooting star.

You hit his chest playfully, “Stop making fun of me.”

“I’m not,” he said but the smile tugging at his lips said the opposite. “I like it when you’re like a puppy.”

“You mean obedient?” It was getting more confusing.

“No,” he said, he sounded thoughtful. “Meek and devoted. I am fond of innocence.”

There was an ugly pause, no other sound was loud enough to fill it.

~~~

Innocent.

The loose definition was someone who was pure and guileless, someone who hadn’t been corrupted.

You were innocent. You were a good person.

To Gojo, however, innocence meant only one thing.

A blank canvas.

Someone pathetic and needy, almost like a crybaby who hasn’t been touched by another. A pure little girl ready to be painted with the blank ink that was bleeding through his fingers and mouth.

Are you innocent?

Yes!

He didn’t want someone like you. He needed someone gullible, someone he could corrupt easily and would always need him. A defenseless little girl waiting to be held by the big strong hero.

Are you innocent?

I… am.

Gojo needed a pathetic worshipper, crying and begging for his attention. Someone he could use with ease, someone who was only going to make him feel like he was a God. Someone who would always and always believe whatever he said to be the law and truth of the world.

Are you innocent?

…

Pure as the chaste women in paintings kissing adorable small lambs. Someone so timid yet so touch starved. Someone who would reach their tiny little hands towards him with meekness so he could hold them.

Are you innocent?

...No.

Gojo desired a helpless little girl tainted with the curse of innocence.

Are you innocent?

I will be.

~~~

It was nearing three in the morning.

“Welcome home, Satoru.” You were wearing the prettiest dress you owned with an apron over it, your face was painted with makeup, lots of pink tones, and lots of blush.

“Oh, you waited for me to come home?” Gojo was grinning, it was the first genuine smile of pure joy you had seen on him.

“I wanted us to eat dinner together,” you shyly admitted as you couldn’t meet his gaze and took his jacket he was handing towards you, “I’m so lonely when you’re not home.”

He blushed, not out of shyness. Out of excitement. Pleasure. Delight.

Gojo fucked you like he had never before against the dinner table that night.

~~~

“I-it feels weird,” you were moaning and holding onto his bicep, not even pushing him away.

“Tell me why it feels weird.” His voice was hoarse yet playful, his fingers were knuckle deep inside your cunt as you were sitting on his lap in the bathtub.

“Because you’re touching me t-there.” Squirming slightly, you uttered in a soft voice. Your hips were moving against his fingers, begging for more at the same time you were denying that it felt good.

“Where?” He smiled against the skin of your neck, pressing slow and short kisses on your pulse point.

“Down there,” you whispered. You were refusing to say any vulgar words.

“Where exactly?” His thumb started rubbing uneven circles over your sensitive nub while his fingers thrust in and out of you sluggishly. There was no hurry, both of you had time.

“Inside me.” You covered your mouth with a hand as your other hand tightly gripped his bicep. “You’re touching me on the inside.”

“Say the name of the thing I’m touching.” He bit your neck, licking the skin slowly until he reached your jawline.

“Nooo, please, I-I can’t.”

“Why?” He whispered into your ear, lips brushing against the shell of your ear.

“It’s so embarrassing,” you cried, voice breaking. “Satoru, it’s embarrassing, don’t make me say it.”

That was enough to make him snap.

Gojo abruptly shoved you forward and inserted his cock in your pussy. You barely managed to hold onto the edge of the bathtub as he began mercilessly thrusting into you. The water inside spilled outside, making a mess you were going to clean with a large grin later on.

~~~

You were the most miserable happy person alive.

~~~

“I need to go for a business trip next week,” he said, petting your hair.

“Where?” No, that isn’t a question a gullible girl would ask.

“How long?” Are you stupid? So assertive.

“Will you be gone for long?“ you asked, looking up to him through your lashes.

“I don’t know,” he sighed, “Why did you ask?”

Wouldn’t anyone ask if their boyfriend was going away?

No.

This was a test.

He was testing you.

“I’ll miss you.” This isn't what he wants to hear.

“I don’t like being alone,” you pouted, drawing circles over his bare chest. “I’ll be so lonely when you’re gone.”

“I’ll be back before you know it.” He pressed a kiss against your hair, “I’d hate to leave my precious girlfriend all alone.”

~~~

Gojo dropped you in Kyoto before he went on his business trip. You needed to get some stuff from the school’s campus and visit your apartment to stay there until he returned.

You went to visit Utahime’s office before leaving to catch the bus to your apartment.

There was a small moment of hesitation as you knocked on her door and burst inside without waiting for an answer.

“I didn’t say come in-” Her grumpy expression dropped in an instant. “(name)!” she smiled, lifting her head up from the pile of paperwork. “You’re back?!”

“No,” you quickly said and walked up to her as she got up from her desk. “I wanted to say hi.”

The two of you hugged, swaying from side to side happily.

She pulled back from the embrace, “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too.” You tilted your head in the direction of her desk, “A lot of work, huh?”

“You have no idea!” Her eyes lit up in anger as she tried explaining her situation. “That damn Tokyo school went on their summer break and left all of their curse listings to us. It’s like a massive joke.”

You froze momentarily. “They’re on a break?”

“Yes! It’s unfair to my students and our faculty-”

“Why though?”

Utahime noticed your face contorting into something vile, she forced a smile on her own to ease the mood. “It’s always been like this, don’t you remember? They go on a summer break a month before us and leave their work to us.”

Your blood ran cold at her words. You remembered. Then why was Gojo going to work dressed in his teacher uniform every day when there wasn’t any work?

“So, they’re just doing fieldwork? The teachers... I mean.” Desperate. You were desperate to make logic out of your own situation.

“I don’t think so. I heard Nanami is working with his partner and tracking down curses around Tokyo but I haven’t heard anything about that guy . He never does fieldwork anyway, he says he’s too strong for that.” Satoru Gojo didn't do fieldwork.

“What’s Gojo doing nowadays? Do you know anything?” you asked.

“Ugh, you should give up on him, (name)!” She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. “You said it didn’t work out between the two of you. That guy doesn’t deserve you.”

“I’m just asking.” Your tone was cold.

Utahime stumbled on her words, you were never this inanimate. “Shoko said he was fooling around with different women every day.”

It was as if someone poured ice-cold water over your head and swung you into a blizzard, your teeth started chattering but you clenched your jaw to stop it.

“(name)?” Utahime put a hand on your shoulder, her voice was filled with worry. “Are you okay?”

“I’m… fine.” You had to hold back your tears. “It’s unfair that they go on a break and do nothing while you’re working non-stop like this.”

“Right?” Her own shoulders eased and she smiled. “They all think they’re too good for doing paperwork.”

“What do you expect from stupid city people?” you grinned.

“Ahh, I missed this!” Utahime wrapped her arms around you one more time. “Let’s go out for a coffee, I’m almost done with work so you can sit here and wait.”

“No,” you replied and she hesitantly pulled herself back. “I mean, I need to get some stuff from my old office. You can work at your own pace and I’ll meet you at our usual place. Is that fine with you?”

She nodded happily and embraced you again.

As soon as you left your office, your smile dropped.

You went back to the infirmary while stomping with each step. Biting your bottom lip, you refused to cry until you could lock yourself inside your old office. However, your tears fell anyway even before you reached the door.

How miserable.

How stupid.

How pathetic.

Covering your mouth, you threw yourself inside and locked the door behind you as the entire world melted down around you.

You were never enough. Never.

You weren’t innocent enough. You weren’t the one he wanted but he was keeping you at his home. He had at least treasured you enough to share his bed with you under his roof.

Was that even his house? Maybe he had a dozen other girls like you, waiting for him at their perfect little house.

No. Stop.

He loved you. He had to.

He promised you that he would love you and only you.

You could do better.

You could forge yourself to be the perfect girl for him. You were already trying to be what he wanted you to be. It wouldn’t be that hard to pretend to be more innocent, you could open your legs wider and act like you didn’t want him to touch you but secretly want it. You could cry in his arms and-

Wait. Calm down.

What if this was another test?

He had told you to keep your relationship with him a secret. Maybe Shoko was covering for his absence, she was his friend after all.

Maybe he wanted to see how you would react.

There had to be a logical explanation. Gojo was loyal to you. He had promised.

Did he really promise?

He didn’t even open his mouth to say that he loved you, what made you think he promised to only love you?

…

You weren’t dumb.

You weren’t some innocent girl he desperately wanted but he wasn’t exactly what you wanted either.

But still, you had hope. You were hoping that you could change him or become the girl he wanted.

Your hands started to shake violently, your vision was blurry with tears and throat sore from a scream that you hadn’t even let out.

He had let you become a part of his life for a reason. He had to be confused about his feelings about you. No. You had to show him that you were all he needed. Only then he would understand.

Gasping in relief, you walked over towards the medicine cabinet with a nightmarish smile and opened it while laughing.

You were the only one who could make his pitiful empty house into a loving home.

You just had to prove it to him.

~~~

Gojo returned three days later to take you to his house.

He was the same. Childish, cheerful, and playful.

You were different. Timid, meek, and gullible.

~~~

You tried your best.

You really did.

He remained the same.

Without giving anything in return, he expected you to love him unconditionally. He wanted you to beg for his attention and drink the hard liquor he gave you until you couldn’t see straight so he could easily make you cry.

He loved it when you cried. It was some fetish he had which you had failed to notice before. He got hard when you acted stupid and spoke like a clueless virgin.

“Why are you touching me like that?”

“Something is poking me, is that your phone?”

“It feels weird.”

“I don’t think it’ll fit in, it’s too big for me.”

“Am I doing good?”

Yet, he still went to ‘work’ and came late at night.

And you still waited for him, wearing your prettiest dresses with your best lingerie underneath and with the dinner ready.

Haven’t you learned?

You can’t tame a feral beast unless you use force.

~~~

You stopped trying and gave him the benefit of the doubt.

He was probably busy with work outside of school and didn’t have much time to give you attention.

~~~

He brought you here because he knew you were powerless and could never hurt him. He wanted a pet to wait for him until he returned back home so he wouldn’t be lonely. You only had to act like a puppy and wag your tail when you saw him.

His house was the only place he didn’t turn on his infinity and dropped his guard. It was because he was safe with you. Nobody knew his address. Nobody could hurt him here.

He only drank in the comfort of his own home. He drank the same hard liquor he made you drink to get drunk easily and doze off after or in the middle of fucking you.

Satoru Gojo was a pathetic and lonely man who needed the warmth of a pitiful woman who worshipped him to feel better about his miserable life.

You could see it all clearly now.

It made you understand him.

Now, you knew the actual reason why he wanted someone innocent. He wanted to corrupt them like the jujutsu world had done to him from the moment he was born. He was never innocent, not even at birth. He was envious of those with innocence and wanted to take it for himself. Poetic.

He was still a little kid trapped within a man who had never felt happy in his life.

You were going to make him happy.

~~~

He reeked of vanilla, the kind of vanilla aroma used in those expensive perfume bottles you could never afford as he got under the sheets next to you.

The smell was overwhelming all of your senses from the moment he stepped inside the apartment and took a shower to mask the perfume’s aroma with his own body wash but what he didn’t know was how well expensive perfumes like this stuck.

You played dumb, didn’t say anything, and pretended to be asleep.

However, his hands wandered over your torso, he was fondling and caressing the supple flesh of your breasts under your shirt while breathing hard on your neck.

“I know you’re awake,” he whispered, the smile in his voice was playful.

You didn’t answer.

He pressed himself against you, making you feel the growing erection under the fabric of his boxers.

You didn’t move.

“Ahh, you’re really sleeping?” He sounded disappointed, sad. “I miss the times you used to wait for me with a cooked warm meal and wearing a pretty dress~”

A long moment passed before he sighed and pulled his hands back when you continued ignoring him. “You’re no fun anymore,” he mumbled under his breath but you heard him.

~~~

He wasn’t going to change. You changed yourself to fit in his ideals but he would never do the same for you. Not unless you forced him to do it.

He had to try hard like you.

That was how relationships worked, you both build yourselves up and pretend to be different people for the sake of the other person.

Nobody would love him as much as you did, nobody would be able to provide him the things he needed like you did.

Gojo needed you in his life.

He had to understand that.

You were perfect for each other.

The sound of the running fridge was deafening in the dead silence of this house. It was giving you a terrible headache as you stared at the pills you had stolen from the school before crushing them all together until they turned into fine powder.

It felt funny looking at the crushed pills. You had caught many students crushing the pills they got from you after faking to be in severe pain to snort them. They never knew about the side effects of mixing these two pills or how badly it could numb your body if you abused it too much.

However, nobody cared about what the school nurse had to say. Did anyone even care what you had to say?

Guess not.

Returning to the present, you carefully rolled the paper with the crushed pills into a small cone and lifted the top cork, it made a loud ‘pop’ sound.

Thankfully, he had opened a new hard liquor bottle so you didn’t need to go through the interrogation or teasing about why you had opened a bottle when you never liked hard liquor in the first place.

Although you liked the way they made cigar taste good and left a nasty aftertaste in your mouth for some reason you enjoyed, another good thing about most of the fancy hard liquor bottles was that they were opaque with lots of design on them, making it impossible to see the mushy and powdery substance at the bottom.

You could never make him happy.

~~~

He didn’t come home early enough to enjoy a drink.

The next day was the same and the day after that and the day after that.

But you were patient.

You waited.

You waited in your pretty dresses with cute innocent smiles and let him fuck you in your sleep as he wanted until the day arrived.

“Welcome home, Satoru!” You were tilting your head, smiling without any teeth because you knew he hated seeing them. “How was your day today?”

“Loooong and booooring!” he whined as he took off his blindfold and shrugged off of his jacket. “What’s for dinner?”

“Beef, like you asked.” You took his jacket to hang it so it wouldn’t get any wrinkles. The strong smell hit you before you even reached for the coat hanger though. It reeked of a different perfume and cigarettes. You could tell that whoever it was, they liked their tobacco strong, the smell was closer to a cigar.

“Ahh, great! You’re the best! I was looking forward to eating meat today!” He was already walking towards the living room while you were trembling in anguish.

Following him into the living room and to the dining table, you kept on your smile, your cheeks were hurting from smiling. “I hope you’ll like it, I made lots of veggies as a garnish if the beef isn’t too fulfilling.”

“Your cooking always hits the spot, I’ll eat the whole plate and lick it clean.” He was laughing between his words as he took a seat.

“We should cook together this weekend, it’d be fun.” You lifted the tin foil up from the plates and the steam coming from the beef was visible for a moment before disappearing.

“Yes!” Gojo rubbed his hands together and grabbed his cutlery from the table. “This looks delicious!”

You sat across from him and lifted the foil from your own plate to join him to eat. “What did you do today?”

“Work, lots of work,” he said while cutting his thick slice of beef, the knife was moving repeatedly and with force until it started grazing the plate. Using his work he put the large meat piece in his mouth, chewing slowly.

“Were your students causing any trouble?” you asked, cutting your own thin slice with a little too much force.

“I wouldn’t say so, they’re all doing their individual fieldwork right now. One of them is in Africa with another student while Megumi is in Tokyo. I’m usually with him, he needs a lot to learn if he wants to get better. You met him, remember?”

“The one you adopted,” you nodded.

“The one I adopted,” he echoed, mimicking your nodding. “He’s got potential, he will get stronger and I have to be there to help him.”

“You should bring him here,” you replied. “I’d love to cook something for him. He’s a part of the Gojo family like me, right?”

Gojo stopped chewing for a brief second and stared at you blankly.

“Sorry, was that too much?” You meekly put your cutlery down and reached for the glass of water. “I just remembered what you told me about his family so I figured it’d be nice to include him with us.” Please, just go along with it.

“He’s busy,” he said, straight to the point as if to tell you to shut up.

“What about when it’s the summer break?” Your smile was twitching. Please Gojo, give me at least this. Show me that you want me here.

“The beef is delicious,” he said suddenly, shoving another piece in his mouth. He spoke again with his mouth full. He was simply trying to distract you from the sweat droplets that were forming on his face. “I really like the seasoning and the sauce you used.” You’re a useless piece of shit. Full of lies.

“Thank you. It’s my own recipe.” Your hands were shaking but you stopped them with your willpower alone. I have to do it. I have no other choice.

It was your own fault for thinking the two of you could get over this like two adults.

The rest of the dinner was uneventful, he lied to you about his goofy day and you pretended to be amazed by everything he told you.

“Ahh, I’m so full!” He plopped down on the couch and put a hand on his stomach. “I can barely moveeeeee!”

“I’ll do the dishes,” you said, making a move to go to the kitchen.

“Why don’t you grab something to drink so we can sit here for a while? You can do the dishes later!” he whined, patting on the couch cushion roughly and telling you to join him.

“Are you sure?”

When you peered inside the living room, he had already grabbed the hard liquor bottle from the coffee table in front of him.

“Absolutely! Can you just bring me a glass?”

“Okay.” Your ears were burning at the same time your limbs started to feel heavy. It was happening.

You returned from the kitchen with a canned beer and a glass for your boyfriend. He took the glass from you and poured a generous amount of liquor into it. Your legs shook in anticipation until he brought the glass up to his lips, taking a small sip before putting it aside.

His nose scrunched at the taste, somewhat a lot more bitter than usual but he didn’t think much of it as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “I like this,” he hummed happily. “You’re the only thing that makes me excited to come home. Before we met, this place was such an empty and quiet house but now with you in it, it feels like a loving home. It’s baffling to me how a little woman like you can make such a drastic change in my life.”

Opening your can of beer, you took a long sip to calm your nerves and stop listening to his lies but he continued speaking.

“I feel like I’m more mature thanks to you. I am responsible and doing my own paperwork and work every day to come home to you. I may work overtime every once in a while but I’m truly grateful that you’re always here. I don’t think I would be this happy without you, (name).”

He was staring at you, the unsettling blue of his eyes was threatening to drown you and drag you to the bottom of the ocean to show you the dangers you had never seen before.

He wanted to make sure you were listening, make sure that you believed each and every word that came out of his filthy mouth.

You were only looking at his hand on his thigh though. He was repeatedly tapping his forefinger on his leg, fidgeting impatiently and waiting for you to give him a response in admiration. A response where you would smile and kiss him, telling him how much you loved him and didn’t deserve him.

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

Pause.

He noticed your stare and used his hand to grab the glass of liquor instead.

“I love you,” you said as he took a mouthful from his liquor, finishing it in one go. “You love me too, right?”

“Yeah.” He pulled his arm away from you and reached forward to pour more liquor into his glass.

“Say it.” Your voice came off demanding.

“Huh? What are… What are you talking about?” He was slurring his words and his face was flushed from alcohol, his sense of danger was way too low because he knew his beautiful little passive girlfriend could never harm him. You didn’t have any cursed energy nor would you even think about hurting him. You were desperately and pathetically in love with him after all. A pet. That was all you were. Nothing but a pet.

“Say that you love me, Satoru. Please.” You didn’t know why but your voice broke. Internally shaking your head, you put your beer can aside and turned to face him. “Please just… say it.”

“I love you?” he laughed at the way he said it. Even he didn’t believe in what he was saying. “Why are you whining like a puppy? You’re my girlfriend and you live with me, would I let you live with me if I didn’t love you?” He drank his second glass in one go as well but immediately after drinking it, he put a hand against his head. A sharp pain was drilling into the side of his head, everything started to spin. “Argh, I think… I think I need to lay down.” He stood up and stumbled forward. “L-let’s go to bed.”

His pulse had quickened, he could feel his own heart hammering through his chest as you held him by his arm and led him towards his bedroom.

“You know, Satoru,” you started, a chuckle escaping from you as you loosened your hold around him. “Even a neglected puppy would bite its owner.”

He slapped a hand on his face, the spinning was getting worse and worse. “(n-name)?” His voice was filled with worry, “Don’t leave me, I think I’m going to fall.” He held onto you helplessly, wobbling from side to side.

It would be impossible for anyone else to make sense out of his drunken slurring and mumbling but you understood him the best.

“I’m here,” you said, pushing him towards the bed.

Gojo passed out on the bed with a smile.

You threw yourself next to him and hesitantly lifted your hand to caress his face. “I’ll always be here.”

Your hand touched the warm skin of his face, using your thumb you rubbed gentle circles over his cheek. Eyelashes fluttered in response to your soft touch. He looked angelic when he was sleeping.

Placing your hand on his forehead, you combed your fingers through his hair to push his hair back.

You were both wrecks who happened to crash into each other, you could see that he needed you in his life because he was tired of being alone. Terrified of the silence of the house, wanting to fill it with your cheerful voice.

“Will you always be there for me too?” you asked, knowing that he wasn’t going to give you an answer but still foolishly looking at him with admiration and waiting for him to reply with a ‘yes'.

You dove your other hand into the pocket of his pants and pulled his phone out. There weren't any texts or calls in his notifications. Nobody cared about him. Nobody liked him. Nobody would tolerate him.

He was an arrogant man-child who only happened to be born into the Gojo family, blessed with powers no other person could estimate how strong they were.

Nobody wanted to be around him unless it was business, he had no friends. Nobody needed him. When people needed him it was solely because they needed his help in defeating a curse.

Others needed him because he was Satoru Gojo .

You needed him because he was Satoru Gojo.

All he had to do to keep you was to prove it to you.

You had to do it.

~~~

The bed was creaking and the springs in the mattress were squeaking in a steady rhythm.

Gojo couldn’t open his eyes yet but he could somewhat feel the tingling in his lower body. Something was coiling in his stomach, it was a familiar feeling of an orgasm. He clearly was having a wet dream. Ahh, whichever babe he was fucking had a sopping wet cunt. The squelching sounds were delicious. It was like music to his ears. But then his brows furrowed and he turned his head on his pillow when he heard your gasped moans. Why were you here?

Ahh, right.

You were his girlfriend.

He blinked once and twice, his vision was still blurry. His entire body felt feverish and it took him the last bits of the energy he had within him to open his eyes. He noted to the back of his head to never drink hard liquor again.

A sharp pain made his mouth pop open.

Something was wrong. Something was terribly wrong.

Your voice reached him, your needy moans, and the feeling of your tiny hands on his stomach. He could feel your warmth wrapping around his cock but there was something else, foreign.

“Satoruuu,” you moaned, angling your hips just right and clenching around him.

He started smiling, humming in delight. Sometimes even a girl like you knew what a guy needed after a long day. His mouth opened but no noise would come out. Ugh, he was numb all over. Alcohol was scary.

You were bouncing on his cock and moving your hips, doing the ultimate combo attack for his poor cock. Haha, at least after two weeks you had learned how to use your hips to please him. He was proud of himself for forging you to become the perfect girl he desired. It was for the best, he was getting old and needed someone waiting for him at home so he would feel less lonely. Everyone around him was growing up, which made him feel empty inside. As immature he was, Gojo could never become the adult everyone expected him to be when he was never raised properly as a child.

Pampered, spoiled, and told to be the best thing in the world as a child had gotten into his head.

He believed he was the strongest and he actually was the strongest. The strongest jujutsu sorcerer.

“(name),” he mumbled, a tired smile tugging at his lips as he was trying to keep his eyes open to look at your flushed face. “That feels so good.”

You were grinning down at him, moving your hips passionately to a rhythm only you could hear. “It does?”

“Ye-ah!” His groan broke into a moan and he lifted his hand up towards your face for no other reason than to squeeze your cheeks together until your lips puckered and you looked at him with that helpless expression on your face but that didn’t happen.

A continuous clicking sound filled his ears, just like a zipper being undone.

He saw you lift your arm above your head with something in your hand, it was yellow and silver. You swung your arm towards his hand with a giggle. “Does it feel good?”

Gojo was confused as to why you would ask him the same question twice, were you also drunk?

Scoffing, he focused his attention on the strange feeling of warmth inside of his palm. With visible confusion he stared at the hand he had reached out for you and saw red. The dark red liquid was oozing out of a nasty gore. It was blood, he realized, his blood.

There was a moment of disbelief as his now wide-open eyes landed on your delirious expression. You were still bouncing on his cock but blood had splattered across your pretty face, giving you the most manic appearance he had ever seen on a woman. “W-what are you doing?”

“We’re making love!” you exclaimed in crazed delight.

You looked intoxicated and terrifying. Wait no… this was your real face.

Was he having a nightmare?

“Satoruuu,” you whined, bringing a box cutter covered in blood up to your lips and licking the blade clean, cutting your own tongue in the process. You were too lost in pleasure to feel the pain. “I love this look on your face.”

His limbs wouldn’t move and the headache from before… he couldn’t think normally. Dizzy and swimming inside his own thoughts, Gojo was completely helpless.

Infinity. He could- ah.

The sharp and unbearable pain abruptly stabbed him in the shoulder, metaphorically and literally. He was staring at the blade that was halfway into his flesh and the blood gushing out while you slammed yourself down onto his cock, your walls clamping on him.

“Stop!” he croaked, hating this feeling of being inferior to someone like you. “W-why are you-”

“Why?” you echoed in an exaggerated yet mocking exasperation. “Because you don’t love me! I need to hear it, Satoru. I need to hear it from your own little pathetic voice.”

“Have you lost your mind- ah-”

You moved your hips frenziedly and pulled the box cutter out from his flesh. More blood splattered across you, covering your bare chest and stomach while the bleeding wound started coloring his chest completely red with his blood.

His hand pressed over the wound desperately to help ease the sharp pain and hopefully stop the bleeding but he was weaker than weak. He couldn’t press hard enough to stop the flow.

The only person who could help him was smiling down at him as he squirmed in pain, bleeding furiously.

Helpless.

He was at your mercy.

“You won’t die, you know,” you barked out a laugh when you noticed the way he was glaring at you. “You can heal yourself, right? Maybe not now but later. Oh, maybe you can die. If I’m not careful. Maybe. Perhaps! Maybe!”

You had gone insane, that was the only logical explanation.

“(name),” he hissed, talking through his teeth with such anger you had never seen on him before. “Get off me.”

“Why do you always lie to me?” you asked, pointing the blade of the box cutter towards his face. “Am I just a pet to you? Do you even care about me?”

“What are you talking about?” He could move his legs but the feeling of his limbs hadn’t returned. If he could keep you busy long enough he could turn on infinity and throw you off but the headache that was making him dizzy and unable to think smoothly… he didn’t know if he could get rid of it.

“You’re cheating on me.”

Oh.

“(name).” A wave of despair washed all over him and he blurted out, “I would never do that to you, I love you more than anyone.��

This time what he said must have struck a chord because your smile disappeared. You furrowed your brows before talking and dropped the box cutter on the bed. “What?”

“I love you.” The sheets under him felt cold from the wetness of his blood.

You stared blankly at him. Then grinned before lifting your hips up and slamming down onto his rock-hard cock.

His ears started to ring from the pressure against his cock. He had been drugged, that was the only explanation for him still having this erection you were toying with inside your pussy.

“You don’t need to lie to me, there’s no need for you to try to lie to me to stop. We both know that I can’t kill you because I love you but... You can kill me whenever you want.” You stilled with his cock inside you and reached behind you to grab a lighter and a single cigarette. “I know you don’t like me one bit. I’m just a pet, something to wait for you at home and give you all of its attention. Something to stick your dick in whenever you want after you molded it into your own desired shape.”

He was speechless. All he could do was watch as you lit the cigarette.

“I could overlook you cheating on me if you actually tried to love me or care for me. I’m easy to please, unlike you. Flowers, kisses, and affectionate words, they would make me the happiest but you don’t care about anything unless it’s about you.” Taking a deep inhale from your cigarette, you straightened your posture and leaned back. “I asked you to promise to only love me. You didn’t keep your promise and now here we are. I’m rotting in this house and begging for your attention while you’re living your life.”

“You’re my only girlfriend,” he reassured. “(name), what I did was wrong but you can’t blame everything on me-”

“I’m not blaming anyone,” you exhaled softly. The butt of the cigarette was painted red from the blood on your fingers. “I’m just stating the truth.”

You were insane, he hadn’t realized it until now. Even if he broke up with you, he knew you would go after the women he went out with. No, you weren’t a murderer, not a killer. You wouldn’t harm someone else. But you had already slashed his hand and stabbed him...

The ringing in his ears grew louder as he felt your pussy pulsate around him. “I won’t cheat on you again.” He was going to dump you, drop you off of the side of the road somewhere in some distant country, leave you to die, just like an unwanted puppy.

“I know you won’t.” Your eyes glinted with dark amusement seconds before you looked between your bodies with a vicious grin, at his cock. “I’ll make sure of it.”

A cold shiver ran down his spine at the dark promise of your words. “Wait, wait, wait- (name), don’t do something you’ll regret-”

“Can you regrow limbs?”

Were you being serious? No. You had to be kidding.

“(name).” He growled, squirming to no avail. “This isn’t funny.”

You put the cigarette between your lips and took a drag, slowly exhaling as if you had all the time in the world. “Hmm, I don’t think I could cut it off. I like it, you know. I need it too.” Moving your hips, you felt his cock throb inside you, growing larger. How pathetic of him. “Your dick just got harder. You’re shameless, even now when I’m threatening to chop it off you got aroused because I said I loved it?”

“Why are you doing this? Don’t you feel bad after all the things we did together? That night under the stars?”

You didn’t react and continued smoking.

Men were all the same. They were just dogs. Desperate and miserable dogs. Dogs who lived to fuck bitches and fight other dogs to declare their strength. They wanted to feel feral, powerful, in charge, and free as if that was all there was to life.

That was all Gojo was. His existence was pathetic.

He could never be happy if he proceeded to live like this.

Only you could fix him.

“Let’s talk about this tomorrow once we’ve both calmed down, I’m not mad at you. I know how much I must’ve hurt you and-”

“You know what makes me so angry?” you grimaced, pointing your finger at your boyfriend. “Everyone kept looking at you from the day you were born but nobody likes you for who you are but for me. Yet you still can’t see that.”

He closed his eyes and took a shuddered breath, “You’re not even making any sense,” he sighed.

“Nobody will tolerate you like I do. Isn’t that why you chose me? Isn’t that why you brought me here? Because you won’t get genuine attention and affection from anyone else?” The silence gave you the answer. You took the last drag of your cigarette and stubbed the lit tip out on his abdomen. It sizzled and deformed the skin it was directly being pressed on as a small cloud of smoke rose from his skin bubbling from the burn. “You’re not treasured by anyone but me, Satoru.”

Gojo felt the hairs on the back of his neck stiffen. His body grew cold, stomach dropping but the pain didn’t reach him. He couldn’t feel anything but your walls squeezing around his girth.

“You’re worshipped because you’re Satoru Gojo A member of the Gojo family. I worship you because you’re my boyfriend Satoru .” You grabbed him by the back of his knees and pushed them up until they were positioned against his chest before you mounted him. “I did everything as you told me, I shaped myself into the perfect girl you wanted and I don’t understand why it wasn’t enough.”

You leaned forward, both hands gracefully wrapping around his neck as you lifted yourself up and slowly eased down on his cock with an added shake of your hips. He moaned in response to your movement.

The two of you locked eyes, his own were wide from terror while yours were clouded with ominous desire but something else was hidden behind it. Gojo couldn’t forebode what you were planning next but as soon as you squeezed your hands around his neck with all your might, he knew.

You were claiming your own power against him… involuntarily.

There were tears in your eyes but you continued fucking him, proceeded to choke him with little to no success.

Gojo got bigger inside you, his eyes rolled to the back of his head. What a deplorable little girl. Weak and helpless, doing all of this to prove a dumb point. Erotic. Pitiful.

A moan escaped you, he was now filling you up with no gaps. The snarky look on his face spurred you on. You planted your entire weight on his throat with your hands and started moving your hips frantically. The squelching noises of his cock going in and out of your pussy masked the gurgling sound coming from him choking on his own spit.

His eyes snapped open, his hands weakly grabbed your wrists to lift your hands up but he couldn’t grip them properly. His wounded hand was shaking violently while bleeding non-stop, the blood coming from his gash trickled down your wrist and onto his neck.

Gojo’s entire torso was painted with blood, his beautiful snow white hair had turned and clumpy from the dried blood, making him look like an erotic grotesque painting you had seen somewhere. Painted with hatred and love. Each stroke of the brush could be seen carrying the artist's frustrations and their passion. What a sight, it was gorgeous.

You grinned wildly, the sight of blood excited you.

As you were laughing hysterically, your cunt was squeezing around him at the same time you were using your entire weight to crush his windpipe. It didn't matter how sticky and disgusting the blood was making you feel anymore. You were bouncing on his cock like there was no tomorrow.

His mouth opened and you watched as the saliva that was pooling in his mouth started gushing out and trickling down from his chin. He was drooling all over himself while getting choked, hah! What a sick pervert!

You were no different though.

What should have been a gross sight made your walls tighten and more of your slick juice came out, coating his cock inside you with the natural lube. He twitched between your walls, he was enjoying this way more than you did.

“I will make you happy,” you said, bouncing on him and letting out cute moans. “And you will make me happy.”

He couldn’t reply, not when he was choking on his own drool. You pulled your hands back and placed them on the back of his knees again, using them to your leverage to shake your hips harder.

Gojo started coughing, greedily inhaling air and attempting to hold back his moans. All of his senses had heightened, he could feel every single beat of your heart with each time your pussy throbbed against his cock.

He squirmed under you, throwing his head from side to side and trying to regain some of his pride by refusing to look you in the eye while you were continuing to fuck him. It was humiliating. He wasn’t going to let you get away with any of this. Never.

Even if he was never going to have a warm meal waiting for him at home. Even if someone wasn’t going to wait for him to come home. Even if he was going to sleep in his cold bed alone. Even if it meant that this welcoming home was going to turn into an empty house…

Did he really want that?

“We’ll be the perfect couple. We’ll make it work.” When you slammed your hips forward, you saw his toes curl and grinned. “Everything's up to you, Satoru. I will play my part and all you have to do is to play yours.”

Like a dollhouse, playing pretend. You were going to pretend something you were not to meet his expectations and he was going to do the same.

Right?

“Right?” you asked, pushing his knees closer towards his chest and mounting him fully. Your tightening walls caught him by surprise in this position, his poor, abused cock throbbed uselessly and spurted his load inside your cunt. He bit back his pleasure-filled moan, averting his eyes from you. However, you spoke with an audible moan, breathless. “Riiiight, Satooruu?”

He didn’t respond as he was too busy continuing to cum inside you. Once he was done, you lifted your hips to take him out of you, making a show of him to watch his cum ooze out of your pussy. He didn’t even look though.

With a sigh you leaned forward, letting go of his legs and throwing yourself next to him on the blood-covered sheets to repeat your question. “You’ll play your part, right?”

A grim pause.

Everything had been up to his standards up until now and tonight had been his fault. Yet even after all he had done, you were ready to forgive him, wash his sins away and devote yourself to him again.

He knew you loved him blindly and all he had to do was to play his part of a loving boyfriend to keep playing this house game with you.

That was the least he could do for all of your troubles. For all the times you cut a piece of yourself up and threw it away for him. For the way he made you feel unwanted. For you.

But that wasn’t the whole truth, he was only a pathetic man. A lonely man craving affection and unconditional love from someone pretty enough to be fuckable who worshipped him like a God.

He needed this to feel good about himself. He could throw you away if he wanted but he didn’t want to. Not anymore. Not when you had been forged into the perfect little house pet he could ever ask for.

He was going to stay and play his part.

Gojo turned to face you fully and gave you one single nod.

Now, the happiest moments of your life had actually begun and you were the happiest person alive.

You smiled without showing your teeth as he liked, your lips covered with dried blood looked gorgeous under the dim light of the night lamp. He couldn’t help but mirror your smile with his own messed-up face covered in his blood, snot, and drool.

He grabbed your hand that was the closest to him and held it tightly as he told you something you had been dying to hear.

“I love you.”

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #i love 'romance' stories that start all cute and pure before spiraling into madness #i enjoyed writing this and good luck figuring out who was perceived as me and whatnot idk i'm tired

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milkjeontea · 4 years ago

Text

temptations: a jungkook smut (18+)

synopsis: when jungkook comes home after a long day of work, your cute getup makes it hard for him to hold back.

warnings: dom!jk, daddy!jk, sub!reader, f!reader, reader is smaller in size than jungkook, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it babes), spanking, choking, slapping, daddy kink, jungkook is kind of aggressive, orgasm denial, creampie, etcc.

a/n: hi !! this is my first time posting smut, i hope you all enjoy hehe!! this is literally just pwp and i wrote it at like 5am cuz i was horny so sorry for any errors oops

"m-mhm, babe..." you whimpered, your boyfriend's head lost in the crevice of your neck, biting down and leaving wet, sloppy kisses. you grab onto his hair, feeling him smirk against your neck as he grinds his hard against your core, the only thing separating the two being your panties and his sweatpants.

you gasp as you feel one of his large hands sneak up your shirt, grabbing a handful of one of your breasts. you moan as his calloused hand palms your soft skin, feeling the delightful friction against your nipple.

jungkook had just been at work when he came back to your shared apartment and was greeted with you in nothing but his shirt that was incredibly oversized on you and a pair of cute white-laced panties. after that stressful day and combined with your adorable outfit, he couldn't help but immediately pin you down on your shared bed and shower you with the love he was waiting to give you the whole damn day.

"take it, baby," he groans as you buck your hips up against his cock, motivating him to go down on you faster and harder. you throw your head back on the pillow under you, your eyes shutting as you moan his name loudly, your back arching uncomfortably yet oh-so blissfully. he pulls back from your neck to bask in the sight in front of him, the sight of your face contorted in immense pleasure, the sight of you squirming under his every touch. he was enthralled by you; he found you so adorable yet so sexy.

he stops his movements for a second and you frown, your high that was just so close now feeling miles away. you pout, opening your eyes to look up at your boyfriend, who's face was directly above yours. "babe..."

he had a sinister smirk plastered on his face, loving how he was the one making you feel so good. his hand that was palming your breasts came out and wrapped around your throat, squeezing the sides gently but intoxicatingly. your face flushes, immediately getting turned-on from the action.

"why don't you call me something a little different, hm?" he purrs, the hand around your neck going up to cup your cheek, his thumb rubbing your bottom lip. "what am i?"

your mind blanks, too focused on the fact that you were so close to your orgasm. "um, my b-"

he shoves his thumb into your mouth, your eyes widening as you gagged from the sudden intrusion. "try again, sweetheart," he growls as he settles on his knees and his other hand inches towards your clothed core.

fuck- does he mean-

"d-daddy!!" you cry, your voice muffled by his thumb as he roughly circles your clit through your drenched panties, the almost-direct contact making your high come running back. you were so, so close.

"mmm," he grins, removing his thumb from your mouth as he pushes aside your panties and slips two fingers into your drenched core, his other hand roaming your breasts underneath your shirt. "thaat's my good girl. you wanna be daddy's good girl, hm?"

"f-fuck!!" your back once again arching uncomfortably as he finger-fucks you. your high was so damn close, you couldn't form coherent sounds. his long, thick fingers filled your walls so well, you were bound to come at any moment.

jungkook suddenly slips his fingers out of you, once again denying your orgasm. "n-no!! please-"

you squeal as he grabs you by the waist and roughly turns you over. his front pressed up against your backside, he grabs a fist of your hair and growls into your ear, "get on all fours. now."

you whimper at his harsh tone but immediately scramble onto your knees. you felt a rough slap against your exposed cheek, whimpering at the harsh feeling but immediately getting wetter. jungkook, of course, sees this, a drop of your arousal dropping onto the sheets below you. he chuckles and spanks you again. "ohh, so you like this, huh baby? you like being spanked?" he laughs sadistically, slapping your soft skin harder. you moan, your arms giving out as you fall onto your chest, your ass still up.

"daddy..."

he grabs a fist of your hair and pulls your head up. he slaps your backside again and you moan louder, gripping at the sheets beneath you. "you're not my good girl. good girls answer when they're asked a fuckin' question. you wanna be punished? huh?"

"n-no! i'm sorry daddy, please let me cum..."

he tugs your panties completely off and abruptly pushes in three of his fingers. "a-ah, fuck!!" you yelp at the sudden intrusion. he thrusts them in and out rapidly, his thumb brushing against your clit with every thrust. he curls his fingers skillfully against your g-spot, your mind clouded with lust and the desire to cum. "daddy, please!!"

"you wanna cum, yeah?" he rasps. "you wanna be a good girl and cum for me?"

"y-yes!! yes daddy, i wanna be your good girl and cum for you," you whine loudly, your legs shaking with the need to release.

he chuckles sadistically, biting his lip from your cute sounds.

"well then, you're gonna have to fuckin wait."

he takes his fingers out of you, your high once again slipping from your grasp in an instant.

"n-no!!! fuck!!" you ball your fists into the sheets, tears welling up in your eyes. you were so close! "daddy, please!"

"oh, babygirl," he laughs lowly, spanking your ass with his hand wet with your arousal before lightly grazing your throbbing clit with two fingers. "i'm not letting you cum till i put my fuckin cock in you." he circled it agonizingly slow, making you whimper in response. he leans his head in so that it's next to yours.

"look at me," he demanded softly.

you turn your fucked out face to your boyfriend. the tears, the messy hair, the flushed face— it took everything in him to not fuck you right then and there.

"oh, fuck," he groaned under his breath, scanning your face. you blush, flustered from the attention. noticing this, he smirks before pressing his lips against yours, immediately slipping his tongue past your lips.

he grabs your shoulder, flipping you over so that you were now on your back, his lips still connected to your own. his tatted hand grabs your jaw as his other shifts down his sweats and boxers, releasing his aching cock from its confines. you feel it spring against your thigh, both of you moaning into the kiss.

he pulls away, eyes clouded with desire, burning holes into your own. he swipes his thumb against your bottom lip slowly.

"you're so fucking pretty, princess," he whispers in awe, your face heating up. "you wanna cum around my cock, yeah? you want me to fill you up?"

you moan at the sight of your boyfriend above you: his broad chest popping out against his tight white t-shirt, his arm clad in tattoos, his biceps popping, his dark, curly hair dancing down his forehead, his hoop earrings glistening in the light. he was a masterpiece. "yes, please, i need you, daddy..."

he chuckles, lowering his hand to wrap around your throat. "such a good girl, asking so nicely." he grabbed his shaft in the other, rubbing it down your folds before aligning it with your entrance. "tell me if it's too much, yeah, baby?"

"yes, daddy."

he pushes in slowly, both of you gasping. the delicious burn felt as if he was tearing you open, and your hands scurried to his broad shoulders to settle on.

"f-fuck, baby, you're always so fuckin tight," he groans, sliding the hand on your neck up to push his thumb inside your mouth. "just breathe for me, yeah? i got you."

"s-so big..." you whimper around his thumb, sucking on it to prevent from screaming out loud from his thick girth.

jungkook smirks cockily, raising an eyebrow at you. "yeah? is my dick too big for this little girl?"

you shake your head desperately, whining. "n-no! i can take it."

he inches more of his cock into you until you were filled to the brim, his balls flush against your ass. your grip on his shoulders tightens when he begins to thrust himself in and out of you, your nails digging into his skin. the mix of pain and pleasure was addictive.

"f-fuck," he growls, taking your hands off of him and pinning your wrists together above your head with one hand. "this little pussy feels so fucking good." his other hand travels down to your waist, holding you steady as he thrusts faster.

"a-ah, jungkook!!" you moan in ecstasy, completely lost in the feeling of him holding you down roughly and fucking you so well. you dig your nails into your palm, desperate to hold onto something but jungkook preventing you from doing so.

he pauses for a moment, pulling out of you.

"n-no, why—oh my god—"

he suddenly thrusts his whole length in you at once, making you cry out as it directly hits your g-spot.

"now you're forgetting my fuckin name, huh?" jungkook slaps you on the face, tears welling up in your eyes as a stinging sensation forms on your left cheek. "i take it back, you're not my good girl. you don't deserve to cum."

you whine, completely turned on by the pure dominance he exuded. "n-no, i'm sorry, daddy," you say frantically, "y-you were just making me feel so good! please let me cum..."

his grip on your wrists tightens, his fierce eyes burning holes into your wide, teary ones. "you wanna cum, yeah?"

"y-yes, please..."

"then fucking beg for it. prove to me that you're a good girl."

in all honesty, jungkook wanted to cum just as badly as you did, but you looked too good begging and being all desperate, he had to make the most of it.

your lip quivers from his tone, embarrassed but compliant nonetheless. "i-i need your big cock to make me cum. please daddy, i need you so bad, you fuck me so well! i'm your good girl, i promise..."

"shit," he curses under his breath, turned on by your incessant praise. "what a fucking slut you are." he chuckles before slamming back into you without any notice, his tip coming in direct contact with your g-spot. "you're so desperate for this dick, aren't you?" he repeats the action again, drawing out a loud scream from you.

"fuck, right there!!!" you cry as he fucks you with immense speed, sinful slapping sounds resonating throughout the room as he thrusts into your most sensitive areas repeatedly. he moves your leg to dangle off his shoulder, his dick reaching your g-spot with ease. he brings his hand down to roughly rub your clit with his thumb, pleasure shooting through you like electricity.

"fuck, daddy, i'm- ah- i'm gonna cum!!"

he bites his lip, slapping your engorged clit, your back arching painfully. "fucking hold it in, baby, we're gonna cum together."

your eyes widen, the pleasure all too much. "i-i can't-"

"you can and you fucking will, princess," he pants. "hang on just a little more for me."

a tear escapes your eye as you clench painfully around his dick in an effort to keep yourself from cumming. it was impossible to hold it in. "please," you whisper in a weak voice, "daddy, please..."

that was all it took for him to break loose. "f-fuck, cum for me, angel," he groans, his thrusts becoming messier. "cum for daddy."

you cum all over his cock, balling your hands into fists as he rides out his own high. you felt euphoric, your vision going black as your arousal squirts all over him.

"thaat's it," he groans. "that's a good fucking girl." his seed empties inside you, painting your walls as he messily thrusts into you a few more times. he pulls out, cursing as he watches your pussy drip with his cum. "fuck, what a pretty little pussy you have." he grabs his shaft in one hand, lathering up and pushing his dripping seed back inside you. you mewl from the sensitivity, eyes struggling to regain focus after cumming so hard.

jungkook leans up to kiss you, placing one hand behind your head and the other stroking down your side. in contrast to his previous demeanor, this kiss was much more loving and soft. you both pull away, panting.

"you did so well for me, angel," he whispers, moving his hand to stroke your cheek gently.

you giggle softly, nuzzling your head into his touch as you wrap your arms around your boyfriend. "i love you, kook," you sigh, a wave of drowsiness coming over you.

he plops beside you, pulling you into a sweet embrace, caressing your back softly. you rest your head against his chest, feeling safe and comfortable in his arms.

"i love you more, baby."

#jungkook #bts #bts smut #jungkook smut #dom jungkook #daddy jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic

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boredandelusive · 4 years ago

Text

04. (NSFW)

CW: Choking, Hickeys, Riding, Fingering, Oral Sex (m receiving), Mistress honorifics, Mommy honorifics, Ma’am honorifics, Scratching, Sub!Spencer Reid, Domme!OC, praise kink, degredation.

♞

"I'm going to give you thirty seconds to be in my room, fully naked." She moved out of the way of the door and let him inside. Seeing as his eyes still showed desperation, he quickly stepped inside. She waited thirty seconds like she said she would, then went to her room.

Everything but his boxers were off, and it seemed like he was self-conscious. "I thought I told you to take everything off, no exceptions." She reminded as she pointed to his boxers. Peeling off her shirt, she walked closer to him.

"I know, Ma'am, but I-," he started, yet she just didn't want to hear him anymore. Kiara pulled him close by his waist and kept her hands there while kissing him. He didn't know where to put his hands, so he kept them in front of his bulge.

"Do me a favor next time: listen to your mistress when you're ordered to. Do you understand?" She asked in a low tone, which he whined and nodded. "Good," while she talked, she slipped her hands into his boxers. One hand went to his dick, which he jolted from the sensation, yet the other hand went to his side.

"Mmh- wait," he broke away from the kiss, and it looked like he contemplated something. "Can I take your clothes off, please?" It was adorably hot how he asked for everything, even if he hadn't realized she already gave him permission.

"Of course you can, baby boy. Take my clothes off," she ordered, which his hands fumbled to her bra first. Unclasping the hook, her boobs dropped, and he loved the sight of it. His hands toured her stomach, everything from the stretch marks and down.

Running his fingers on the hem of her shorts, he dipped his index fingers under the waistband before sliding her shorts down her legs. What the seductive part was he kept eye contact the entire time.

When her shorts were at her ankles, Spencer Reid was on his knees. He had a pleading look in his eyes, like he wanted something but needed to beg for it. "Go on, tell me what you want, baby boy. If not, I can't please you the way I want to."

"Can I taste you, Mistress?" The most submissive look in his eyes made him hard to resist.

"Ooh, I would let you, but you haven't taken these off, yet," she bent down to grab his hands. Once she had a light grip on his hands, she slid them up her legs, then her thighs, and stopped at her underwear. "So be a good boy and take them off for me."

Once again, he nodded as a response before pulling them down for her. "Stand up and get on the bed," as much as she enjoyed seeing him on his knees, she would rather fuck him than have him begging, not right now.

Quickly following her orders, he got onto the bed. Laying down on the bed, she crawled on top of him but didn't put her bodyweight onto him. Lightly grabbing his throat, she leaned toward his ear, not to his mouth yet. "Be a good boy for me, will you? I would hate to punish you on your first scene."

"Yes, ma'am," he whined, unconsciously rolling his hips under her.

"Good, but let me taste you first." she let go of her hand around his neck and moved to his waist. The one thing she kept her eyes on was his facial reaction. Pulling his boxers down, his dick sprung free. "Look at you, already so hard for me. God, you're so beautiful."

He whimpered, most likely from hearing her appraisals. She wrapped a hand around his dick, just before slowly stroking him. It wasn't fast enough to get him off, in fact, it was agonizingly slow. All he could do was whine loudly, and she enjoyed every sound he made.

Placing her mouth on the tip, she heard him let out a high-pitched whine. The fun thing about virgins? They're so fucking responsive it hurts. Each touch you make to someplace hypersensitive could've set them off.

Instead of immediately pleasuring him, she wanted to tease him. Seeing as his legs were spread apart, she ran her hands up his inner thighs. It gave him a sense of what would happen next, but it also made him anticipate what she would do to him. At first, it was light kisses to his inner thigh, which little gasps fell from his lips.

But as he got comfortable with the kissing, she sucked in those same spots, as if marking where she would form hickeys. The first hickey she made caused him to suck in raggedly, almost as if this gesture alone would've gotten him off. However, as adorable as he looked lying on the bed with his chest rising and falling unevenly, she still wanted him to feel penetrative sex.

By the time she fully took his dick into her mouth, he was a whimpering mess. The warmth from her mouth is what set him so close to the edge. Because of her previous teasing, his body jerked, no, writhed under her touch. "Please, Mistress," begging wouldn't get anything done, despite how much she wanted to hear it.

She didn't listen to his whining but instead swirled her tongue around his tip. Kiara took her time with him, even if it was agonizingly slow, but it was hot watching him squirm around, trying to please himself from her mouth. He must have been sensitive by now, so much so that his dick twitched in her mouth. That's when she knew to pull away, even if it meant he let out a string of desperate moans.

"W-Why did you stop?" His chest heaved in sexual desperation, almost like he wanted more, but he wasn't going to get what he wanted.

"Don't sound ungrateful, baby boy. You said you wanted to taste me, right?" she asked, which he quickly nodded. "Then sit up," she ordered, which he did as told. Crawling onto his lap, she hovered just above his dick, not giving him the satisfaction of her pussy just yet.

Out of instinct, he placed either of his hands on her thighs. She took his right and moved it into her inner thighs. When she let go of his hand, he slid it inward. "Y-You're so wet, ma'am," he wasn't expecting her to be sopping wet, but if this was because of him, he wanted to savor it.

"And it's all because of you, baby boy. Now be a good boy and please your Mistress," she ordered. He slid his hands toward her cunt, finding her clit easily. That wasn't the only thing he did, however, as he placed his mouth on her nipple.

He lightly circled his thumb on her clit, yet he inserted two fingers inside her hole. "Good boy," she moaned out. He started thrusting his fingers into her and swirling his tongue around her nipple. It didn't take him long to brush against her G-spot, which her walls fluttered around his fingers.

He sped up as if wanting to see what she would look like high from her orgasm. When her left nipple was hard, Spencer moved his mouth to her right one and did the same. She couldn't last long if he continued doing this. "Baby, I-," her voice escaped her, followed by an immediate moan.

"I like making you feel good, Mistress," he still had the same look in his eyes, but she couldn't focus on him anymore. "I wanna make you feel good," something must've flicked in his brain, because he rolled his fingers inside her.

"B-Baby stop, don't you wanna come together?" Feeling as he removed his hands from inside her, Spencer looked at his fingers in unsureness. "Baby, you said you wanted to taste me, right?" Seeing as he nodded in response, she took his hand covered with her juices and brought it closer to his face. "So clean your fingers off."

Sticking both fingers into his mouth, he kept eye contact with her and holy fuck, it was hot. The second he removed his mouth, she kissed him, and he went red from embarrassment. Continuing to kiss him, which he struggled keeping up, she pushed him to the bed. Sitting up, she grabbed both of his wrists and held them crossed against his chest.

Aligning her hole with his dick, she lowered herself. Both of them groaned happily, but she didn't move yet. Hearing as Spencer whined from the lack of motions, she began thrusting her hips up and down. She was just beautiful bouncing on his cock, and she wished he could touch her.

"Wanna touch," he whimpered, which she heard and smirked. "Please," despite his words, she continued thrusting her hips against his. Every movement she made sent him closer to the edge, and with how sensitive he was, it was adorable.

"Then you can touch me," she moved her hands away from his arms, to which his hands rushed to her waste. He didn't plan to control her hips, but he liked the sensation. Now that his chest was free, she placed her hand at the top of his chest. Digging her nails into his skin, he jolted in painful pleasure, and she could've sworn she felt his dick jumped inside her.

While she trusted her hips, she wanted to try something to see how he would react. Dragging her nails down his chest, he whined loudly. "Baby, I need you to be a good boy and do as I say," she cooed, but he was too close to his orgasm to hear her fully.

"Good boy?" Hearing those words... those fucking words, they did something to him. Rolling his hips into her, he came. Of course, he didn't expect it, and hearing those words made his dick throb. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. I don't know what happened, it's-," he tried excusing, but coculdn't find the words for it.

"Just something about hearing the words good boy? It seems like you have a praise kink, Spencer Reid." She stated, which he blushed and hid his face in embarrassment. "Why are you hiding your face, baby boy?"

"Because I came too quickly," he sounded almost ashamed, and because he hid his face in his hands, he was fearful of how she would react. "I'm sorry, Mommy," as much as she wanted to be mad at him, this was still kink exploration. The first few scenes wouldn't be vanilla, as he had a lot of 'maybe' boxes ticked.

"Baby boy, it's okay. Hey, look at me," she peeled his hands from his face and kept his hands in front of him. "Spencer, look at me," her voice grew darker, which he noticed and turned his head back to her. "It's okay if you came early, we're still exploring what you like."

"But you didn't come," he dropped his head into her chest. Digging her fingers into his hair, she pulled his hair, forcing him to look her in the eyes. "What can I do to please you, ma'am?"

"Come again, and let me ride it out." She ground her hips against him, which he moaned at the overstimulation. "So be a good boy for me and let me ride out my orgasm." She started thrusting her hips up and down, which his moans chased each thrust.

He closed his eyes, yet she slowed her thrusting speed down when he looked away. "Why'd you stop?" He asked in an almost thoughtless tone. The pleasure was getting to him, but he had to hold out long enough for her orgasm, too.

"Look at me when I'm riding you," she forced him to listen, which he opened his eyes again. As she continued thrusting, his breathing became ragged and uneven.

"Wanna touch you again, please," Spencer whined, which she nodded at his request. Her moans slipped out, which both of them got closer to their release. While she trusted her hips, she ground them against him as well. "Mmh- fuck-!"

"Baby, I'm getting close. Come with me, huh? Be a good boy and come with me," she whined and sped up her thrusting speed. Seeing how much his face contorted from pleasure was hot enough to send her over the edge, and him as well.

"Fuck, mommy," he highly whined as his dick throbbed inside her. Coming inside her again, he whimpered from the overstimulation. "Mommy, I-..." his body trembled from the pleasure, something he couldn't handle.

"Can I mark you?" It was a simple act to claim her property, and it would only last a few days. The idea of letting the others know who he belonged to was hot, and it was something he had ticked 'maybe'.

"Please," he whimpered, and she placed her mouth on his neck. Still trembling from the shocks, Spencer dropped his head in her shoulder. He was so tired, and there was still one other thing she needed to do: clean up.

Once the hickey was there, and it was fresh, she moved her mouth away from his neck. "Stay here, baby. Mommy will be right back," she got up from his lap and his dick slipped out of her hole. About to get out of the bed, Spencer wrapped his arms around her torso.

"Stay, please," cute as he was, she needed to clean them both up, then she could go back to bed with him.

"Baby, I promise you I'll come back, but let me clean me and you up, because I know your chest is hurting," referring to the scratch marks running from his shoulders to his waist. Seeing as he let go of her, she walked to the bathroom and did everything needed.

It was great she had an IUD, and she already cleaned herself up. Now she had to clean Spencer, which was easy to do. Since he was half asleep, she cleaned off their sexual juices and got in bed beside him. From there, she tucked in bed with him and fell asleep.

#sub spencer reid #spencer reid #sub!spencer reid #sub!spencer #virgin spencer reid #smut #spencer reid smut #virgin spencer #choking #marking #scratching #overstimulation

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shesawriter39049 · 4 years ago

Text

|PRIVATE SHOW|M|

Pairing: Taehyung X Reader

SMUT/LIGHT ANGST

About-Just a casual lunch outing where Tae’s trying to do his job and your trying to get him off under the table with your shoe...nothing new!

OR- Tae and yourself are grabbing lunch at 71 Above, after checking out the last couple of venues for the company's end of the year Holiday party. While at said restaurant, it becomes a humbling reminder that the most important people in your life are essentially a secret...cute!

WC:5k

WARNINGS: Public sex -ish( A foot-job under the table) dirty talk, teasing, light edging, frontage (kinda), overstimulation, Tae comes in his YSL leather pants, mentions of Oral (Male receiving), Tae is somewhat submissive, whilst also being a little shit. “Baby boy/Good boy” Kink

DNA Era Tae meets 2020 Tae

Tae is her baby and also her Executive Assistant

He just wants to hold her hand tbh

NOTE: This is a stand alone smut drabble within my OT7 poly universe called “7 DEEP”. Short AU SUMMARY: Your husband Namjoon and yourself run a successful Adult Film Entertainment Company called “Onyx” with your 5 best friends from college who you also happen to be in an open relationship with! P.S. If you’re new here Kookie joins the party a little later….

_________________________________________________________

“So” Musing over your cocktail glass “Thoughts on the last place?”

Eyeing the man sitting across from you intently who’s clearly in the holiday spirit. Dressed in a deep red silk button-down, apparently, he’s taken a page out of Jimin’s book considering it’s barely buttoned, to begin with! Honestly, he’d be better off not even wearing one at all at this rate.

Smoky silver locks messily styled out of his face showcasing those bushy yet sculpted brows of his. One of your favorite past times has become watching Tae become more confident as he grows into himself. No longer finding the need to hide behind his long shaggy bangs, though you can’t; lie, you do kinda miss him looking like the puppy he truly is deep down. However this, version of Tae just hits different, your baby boy looks like a whole ass man and you’ll never get over it!

God the things you endlessly wanna do to him…..even after all these years....

You watch Tae sigh almost miserably over a mouthful of lobster mac which seems completely out of place considering the way the dish in question smells…“Honestly?”

Offering a curt nod, encouraging him to continue as you welcome yourself to his plate! The amount of cheese that’s trickling from your fork is actually disrespectful!

“It was cute, I liked how big the lot is, and more importantly how spaced out the spots are! You know how rich people get about people being too close to the damn cars!” Rolling his eyes as if he in he’s excluded from that category and you can’t help but scoff.

“Tae you technically are one of those people at this point. Just like...yesterday actually, you almost ripped Jackson’s balls off for bumping into your rearview mirror but carry on.” Flicking your fork in his direction, ignoring the sharp glare he sent your way in the process.

This time around I think both of his eyes managed to roll in different directions, again, Jimin’s wearing off on him! “Anyway, yeah, I don’t know, I liked the space, the exposed brick beams in the ceiling was cool. Kinda gave it a homey vibe which is fitting….”

You could hear it hanging off his tongue, he sounds very, “meh” about it, so you opt fil in the blank. “Butttt??”

“Butttt, I -It felt like...like I was forcing myself to like it…” Slouching down into his seat, features a little uneasy, as if him not liking the venue was a direct insult to the owner personally! You on the other hand you let out a bated breath that you weren’t even aware was being held, eyes wide shining with relief.

“Oh thank fuck” Hand slamming down absently along the table, “I thought it was just me, and I felt like such an ass too because-”

“They were so sweet” Came in unison, both of you almost cooing as you said it! Hands placed dramatically over your heart as you reclined against your chair.

“So sweet,” Tae parroted in a light pout,”I mean they were literally wearing matching loafers Y/n. Matching” Idly jading a fork into his side salad in a way that’s borderline concerning actually, a tad bit aggressive over there!

” But it just-I don’t know, I guess will always think like those broke college kids at heart” Flashing you a brief glowing smile that you can’t help but return, humming in agreeance.

“Which isn’t a bad thing, per say, the mentality definitely keeps us humbled! But there’s time and place for that attitude and honestly I just wasn’t feelin it! At least not in comparison to the others we’ve seen, it wasn’t fighting the vibe were going for. Regardless of how good the offer is” Shrugging over another mouth full of food and you there’s not much else for you to say because that was your consensus exactly.

Basically, once the two of you showed up, the cute little husband and wife duo offered you a deal which would essentially consist of them renting you the space for next to nothing. In exchange, they’d want you to post a couple of ads via your company and personal social media accounts as promo. Your initial thought outside of just thinking they were utterly adorable was how much money you’d save...but as Tae said, thankfully that’s not really a concern anymore, if you wanted you can get it!

Easily…discounts and barters aside, just a flick of the wrist and it’s yours!

“True, also can we just take a moment to talk about how aesthetically pleasing the Valentine was though?” Tossing your head back with a dramatic groan “I mean fuck you already know the way I feel about industrial spaces, the high, glass ceiling, all the greenery..” Eyes rolling to the back of your head with a slight moan…as you envision the space. Especially how moody and sexy the overall venue would look with thousands of lights cascading from the glass ceilings.

Clearly the venue was doing ....a lot for you right now!

Brow cocked at the blatant...enthusiasm surrounding the location in question “Mmm, well that’s something...interesting to add to the kink list, just when I thought I’d explored every avenue, but apparently not.” Voice low, teasing, head cocked to the side, a shit eating grin plastered along his lips, as he swirls his tongue along the tip of his straw in a way that’s……

“ I guess we’re adding “industrial spaces” to the list. Noted.” Smirking around his drink like the little shit he is!

Right, you may or may not have crossed your legs at the sudden drawl laced within his delivery but not before, kicking his shin with the tip of your heel, “You little shit” Rolling your eyes at the way he dramatically rubs the side of his leg, hitting you with straight puppy dog eyes as he pouts over at you as if you actually caused serious damage!.

Leaning forward a little so you don't have to try as hard to whisper, the notion has your breast essentially sitting on top of the table. Not that they weren’t already on full display in your dress or anything. Hand slipping beneath the table, landing on his kneecap. “What? Suddenly you don’t like a little pain?” Tone blatantly teasing whilst ghosting your nails agonizingly slow up his inner thigh, and his entire body goes rigid at the sensation. Tae’s always been extremely...

“God, your still so sensetive....” You weren’t intending for that to come out in the form of a moan but considering the one that fell from his lips in return...you ain’t mad about it! 100% dialed in to the way his eyes are fluttering, jaw tight, trying his damndest to play it cool, especially once the waitress makes eye contact silently asking if the two of you need anything. “Takes so little Hmm?”’

Flashing him a quick smile, waving her off for the time being, far too focused on another task to entertain anyone else right now! Only stopping your ministrations once your fingers land right beneath his balls.

“This place is very well lit, I like the hue, it’s casting a good soft-light, especially the way it’s bouncing off your complexion...” Eyes cascading against the ceiling, tone casual, until your eyes drop....

“You’d look so fuckin good, coming for me right now...” The words purr off your tongue, flashing him a cheeky little wink, and poor Taehyung chokes on his martini!

“You know how much you love being watched...I could have you making a mess all over yourself and no one would even know. ” Not even trying to hide the smirk playing on your lips when you can already feel the tension in the room rise. “My own little private show...” Eyes wicked as your fingers wander a little higher, gently pressing your palm down around his dick. Rubbing tauntingly, the touch isn't enough through the thick leather, however it does instantly make his length swell in the confines of his pants! We all know this….underwear is nonexistent in Tae’s world! “Kinda brings me back to our college days...” Teeth sinking into your bottom lip at the mere memory...you getting Tae off whilst in the lecture hall full of 300 plus students.

Regardless of the deer in headlights look flashing across his face his legs still spread apart, hips bucking forward because well as we just said...baby boy loves being watched. This however, prompts you to once again change positions, now digging your nails into the back of his thighs before letting the tips of your fingers tickle free. Coly bringing them back above surface to take another languid sip of your drink, tossing a strand of hair over your shoulder.

Ya know, I can’t say you’re surprised by his reaction, baby boy can dish it but sure can’t take it, neck and chest flushing to rival his shirt! Banging on his sternum in an attempt to reroute the liquor burning his lungs.

“Jesus-fuc-Y/n!” You have the nerve to hum inquisitively, only this time for his sanity he humors you! “Can you like not go from asulting me to-” Looking over his shoulder before dropping his voice down to a whisper “Stroking my dick, and offering to get me off under the table, all in the span of a nanosecond!?” The plea hissed through clenched teeth but the complaint was half hearted at most! Well aware his dicks already throbbing in his pants at the thought alone! “Fuck me” Sucking in a harsh breath, as he raked his fingers through his scalp.

“Well…” Tonguing at your inner cheek, eyes fluttering away as if you were in deep thought… “In my defense you kinda started it, bringing up my kink list like I don’t own a whole ass porn company!” Propping your chin on your palm, gaze locked and loaded “Like I wasn’t thinking about tainting that sweet innocent couple by letting them watch as I dropped to my knees, letting you fuc-”

“Y/n!” He actually attempts to sound almost applauded, like he doesn’t love how absolutely filthy your mouth is. However there’s a silent little “please” playing on his tongue, no matter how threatening he tried to sound.

You giggled, straight up giggled, reclining in your seat, amused, and somewhat satisfied so you let him be, for the time being anyway. Though you may have eaten your angel hair pasta in a very obscene manner, every now and then you’d sinfully suck the noodles through your overly glossed lips! However, if he dared to clock you on it you’d just simply note that it was your way of not messing up your makeup….

The two of you finish your lunch in comfortable silence, making small talk here and there, a mixture of work and bullshit until Tae’s phone goes off with a couple text notifications.

A low hum rattling in the back of his throat as he eyes the message from Hoseok. Subconsciously Tae reaches across the table, intertwining your fingers before bringing your knuckles up to his lips. Grazing them with his lips casually as he scrolls through his phone.

“Alright baby, so, I have a list ready, we have a couple brands that wanna work with us for the party. Seoks already narrowed it down to the ones that are actually worth discussing however-“

Honestly, it took both of you a minute to even realize what was going on, the skinship was second nature at this point. It wasn’t until his thumb grazed over your wedding band that the notion even resonated! Tae and yourself were a good two drinks in, feelin all warm and fuzzy and got caught up in the moment! Temporarily forgetting that you were in the middle of a restaurant in Downtown LA! Forgetting that the Kim currently caressing your knuckles and calling you baby is not the one you're technically married to! It may seem minor in retrospect, but you’ve always tried to stop yourselves from getting comfortable, with being comfortable in certain locations if that makes sense! You slip up one to many times and the next thing you know it happening in the office or on the red carpet!

Taehyung’s eyes grow almost comically wide, straight panic flashes over those big brown orbs of his and your heart sinks as you watch his head whip around, checking to make sure no one caught the interaction. It was almost painful how quickly he disconnected from you as his entire face dropped and no, just no!

“Hey...hey no it’s fine, it’s like 2 in the afternoon on a Tuesday! Not to mention we’re tucked in a booth in the corner ,we’re good, nobody heard or saw you…” Voice calm and quiet, trying to come off comforting, flashing him a weary smile. Reaching across the table to thumb at his palm, and it would be a lie to say you didn't also check over your shoulder before hand as well’

A dry almost bitter chuckle leaves his throat as he flinches away, tossing the fork down on his plate sliding it halfway across the table indicating he is more than done eating. Flicking the bridge of his nose with his index finger, jaw twitching, “Yeah, lucky me huh? I actually got to hold your hand for all of two seconds before we realized I’m techionally not allowed to do that unless were in fuckin I don’t know Alaska!”

He’s agitated, and with every right to be, even if he is being a little dramatic. Thankfully he’s keeping his voice low, but you can feel how tight his throat is, the amount of grit laced within his tenor has your eyes bugging out of there socket.

“Bab- “ It was a reflex, whenever he’s upset it’s just what falls from your lips, and he gives you a look, almost as if to say “How fucking dare you” ! The level of hurt the pet name just rendered within his eyes is-

Eyes sharp, brows furrowed “Noo, nooo, we literally just went through this. That’s not the way it works for us in this kinda setting” Flailing his arms around to reference the restaurant. “Wrong Kim” Well damn. “So it's Tae in public remember!?” Brow quirked accusingly, he’s abating this entire situation, almost like he wants you to snap, a second away from whisper yelling! “ Or maybe I should say Taehyung, hell just use my full government while your at it. Let’s make it real impersonal, Mr. Kim maybe?” Head cocked to the side as if he’s being genuine and not a total smartass right now.

You-he’s ...hurt, and you get that, hell you respect that, but Lunch at 71 Above is not the time or place for this conversation. You’re trying to approach this on a more rational level, however the condescending delivery is making it hard, and your only human. Eyes rolling to the back of your head before you can even catch yourself and that little gesture seems to be what officially set him off!

You can physically see the tension within his face... “I’m gonna go get some air, I might actually call a Uber or somethin,.” The words trailed off his lips low in mumbled but clear enough to be heard because that’s ultimately what he wanted to begin with.

There was something in his eyes you couldn’t read, a combination of anger/hurt mixed another emotion you can’t quite pinpoint! But whatever it is, you fuckin hated it! Throat running painfully dry as watch him slide his chair out and even though realistically you know at max he’s headed home...Still the gesture alone is gut wrenching because you know this runs deeper than just this situation!

“Tae” His name leaves your throat as more of a warning, reaching up to take an almost possessive grip on his wrist. Fingertips landing on the edge of his Cartier bracelet, the one you're both wearing actually, same arm and all!

A deep labored breath shutters from his chest at the contact, thighs feelin like a newborn fawn, gaze hesitantly meeting yours. “Tae, baby” Daring to use the endearment again regardless of your current surroundings “Sit back down so I can order us dessert and we can discuss whatever you want...just-please” The ending whisked off your tongue so faint your almost wondering if he even heard you!

Taehyung narrows his eyes, teeth clenched, tongue nudging his inner cheek! “I’m not really in the mood for cake right now Y/n. To be honest I just wanna leave” You know he’s aiming for dry but instead he lands somewhere around defeated , which makes it even worse. You’re both well aware this is not truly about cake, it’s about his constant need to run away from shit!

Sliding your fingers down his wrist, interlocking your fingers, giving them a firm squeeze. Eyes locked with his “Then you can get whatever you want, but I need you to just be here right now, I really, really need you to sit here, and just breathe through this with me.”

He’s know what your really asking is for him not to run away for once!

A faint little “Whatever” Leaves his lips and then he’s dead silent, silent as he slides his chair out, remaining as such for what feels like hours, and it has your heart beating painfully hard against your ribcage. It’s almost like he’s not even here, eyes fixated on some random painting on the opposite side of the restaurant, chewing at his inner cheek until....

“I’m sorry…” He admits after a baited breath, stroking your palm with his thumb gently, you can see him working over his thought’s in his head before speaking. ”I can’t - fuck I never know when I’m going to get all in my feels with shit like this, sometimes it just sucks harder than others I guess” The curt little shrug that leaves his shoulders let’s you know how uncomfortable he is, Tae’s overall persona suddenly seems mounds smaller in this moment. Anxiously stroking the back of his own neck “But....I shouldn't have come at you like that! That was fucked on my behalf and for that I’m truly am sorry ! This isn't all on you, or Joon we all-”Gazing over his shoulder before continuing “There’s just- there’s a lot, we have families and it’s just, I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that, ...”

Dropping his voice a little lower “I just fuckin love you” There’s a timid smile playing on his lips “and if the offer still stands I would really fuckin like chocolate cake…”

You actually snort, that’s your first instinct because only Tae, but the plus is it lightens the mood immensely! The sudden outburst triggers that full boxy grin to come into play and god your so damn enamored by this man it’s actually sad. Bringing his knuckles up to your mouth, grazing them past your lips like he did yours moments prior. “I love you too, and chocolate cake sounds fuckin amazing, and liquor, we need new drinks, actually we need an entire bottle! ” You laugh and then so does Tae, suddenly your holding hands and laughing together and everything else just seems so miniscule in the moment.

~~~~~

So, here’s the thing...being a CEO of one of the top Adult film entertainment companies is not on the same level as like..I don’t know….

Owning a high-end clothing company, or being a reality star or something. Your field is praised just as highly as it is tabooed, so with that being said, it’s not like your the top topic on E-news, or on Business Digest. You still have a strong sense of normality, point blank you’re not that important. It’s not as common for outsiders to know the high rollers within the porn industry the way it is in other fields!

However there's another avenue to factor in where the 7 of you are concerned, and that’s the world of social media, and that’s a completely different world entirely! One that’s heavily intertwined in your state in particular, living playing, and working in LA….I mean let’s get real, shit not normal here, by any means!

You’re a 26-year-old wealthy CEO, that goes to work in a Ferrari, cute little bodycons, Louboutin's, and Chanel bags! Your executive assistant is Tae for fucks sake, he looks like a model his damn self , on the surface your life is an aesthetically pleasing wet dream. An influencer without even trying for the title, if your 2.7 million followers are at all telling! So in the public eye, especially when out in Downtown LA..you try to be discreet.

Just last week Jimin was hanging all over you while walking through Saks and one of your mutual followers stopped to ask for a picture. Again this isn’t a daily occurrence, you’re not comparing yourself to Rhianna, but it’s why you do move with a slight air of caution when in your city! You literally live in a place where people become famous for running into walls, nevertheless owning their own business!

The world knows you’re married to Namjoon, and to be honest there’s numerous reasons the other aspect of your dynamic stays hidden! More than just the obvious….

However there’s been rumors circulating over the years, or at least now that Hollywood’s decided you hold some relevance! Ones pertaining your your sexuality, typically the tabloids assuming it, insulating your swingers, or that Namjoon’s bi. A Lot of these narratives circle back from your college days though, old classmates trying to slip tea to the media. Stories of when you could go to a party and it didn’t matter if you were sandwiched between Namjoon and Yoongi at the same damn time! Not to mention the dark side of social media where nothing ever truly dies, so yeah there are some questionable photos floating around. Luckily nothing recent enough to truly add fuel to the fire but you know deep down it’s only a matter of time!

One could argue it adds allure to the overall dynamic, especially considering your line of work, and maybe it wouldn’t matter if the boys were just casual thirds...but they’re not! They’re so much more than that and that’s what makes this hard, because well in laymen’s terms...people just fucking suck! So as heartbreaking as it is, where your other boys are concerned, in the public eye at least your “relationship” holds a strong air of mystery!

It’s the little things ya know? Like now for example, the fact that he could've easily gotten a foot job under the table but has to walk on eggshells about holding your hand at times! Shit just sucks sometimes, there’s no other way around it!

~~~~~~~

The two of you don’t really talk much until the dessert comes, more drinks and a bottle is in fact ordered as well! The silence felt a little more bearable this time around, busying yourselves on your phones. A very minor but significant change, is the fact that you still haven’t let go of his hand, even once the waitress returns. The simple notion has his entire dementor shifting! Fingers still tightly bound together and your chest flutters seeing the way he flushes almost bashfully at such minor PDA! Like the two of you didn’t hook up in the back of a club in London two months ago! Like you literally weren’t palming him under the table! Yet here he is blushing at openly holding your hand!

So fuckin cute!

Eventually two pieces of molten chocolate crepe cake gets brought over and holy fuck! Both moaning in unison as the pastry hits the table...

“Oh my goddd, we have to take a piece home for Jin, the like...convince him to learn how to make it!” You watch Tae’s eyes roll to the back of his head as he laces his lips around the fork! Groaning out in agreeance once the mixtures of pure sin hit his tongue.

“K...now back to , these sponsors...” Prompting over a mouth full of cake, not that you wouldn’t love to sit here and chill all day but you do have a 4pm conference call!

You watch as Tae glances down at your intertwined fingers, and his fork....realizing ones gotta go so he can pick up his phone and you physically coo back at him, melting into your set once he opts to drop the fork instead of your hand. Purposely avoiding your glance once he noticed the look on your face, nose scrunched and all!

“Right, so Uber reached out, more specifically Uber Luxxe, looking to send us 4 cars of our choice in exchange for a couple post. Spread out between IG, Twitter and Snap, I’m personally all for this one. The contract doesn’t seem excessive and I like that the post won’t feel forced! I mean realistically we were going to hire a driving service regardless! However something to also consider is our lack of filter when drinking! I mean...”Flailing his phone between the two of you as if to give an example, obviously referencing the little slip up moments prior. At least he can joke about it a little “So realistically, would we feel more comfortable with a private car service where there’s a contract involved as opposed to just some random?”

Tae just went full EA, out of nowhere and honestly ...

You blinked at him, almost dazed, fork halfway to his mouth because, what?! . “You sound so professional right now, it’s so fuckin hot.”

Tae choked on nothing but straight air before blushing profusely. “Baby-I mean-Y-“

You didn’t even flinch, continuing, unperturbed. “Nah, actually I think I’m in the mood to be baby right now!” Eying him wickedly “Your jaw just gets really tight, and your voice gets all low and raspy! It happens during meetings too, it’s really fuckin sexy! Reminds me of the way you sound when your lips are pressed into the side of my neck when we fuck.” It's just the casualness of it all, you sound like your ordering another appetizer and Tae’s about to choke on his dessert.

The grip he has on your hand is almost painful right now, “But don’t mind me, I’m just sitting here writing out my next script in my head, carry on. What rental service did you have in mind? Or did someone already reach out as well?”

It’s the way you just went from talking about Tae, being balls deep to sponsorships all in the span of a comma! In the words of your best friend you are pure chaos.....

Tae groans head hanging in defeat and your lips curl into a smirk, brow quirked in his direction.

“It’s the way I hate it here sometimes...” Snatching his hand away to jab his fork into the neglected pastry.

“Ah huh” You roll your eyes crossing your arms over your chest before leaning back. “Right, again let’s not act like you didin’t start this, both here and at the venue.” Leaning over the table again licking your lips “Don’t act like you weren’t eye fucking me the entire time, or the way you’d accidentally brush against me as we walked through the building. You’ve been practically begging for it all day.”

Tae just stares back at you, mind momentarily blank, stomach shifting into knots, letting the fork drop from those delicate fingers of his! Mouth opening and closing like a fish straight outta water...

“Did you think about it too? The acoustics in that place were fuckin insane, the way it would just echo through as you made me cum would just- fuck” You continued adding that lethal little purr back into your voice! “Or even better the way you’d sound, you don’t even know how bad I wanted to drop-“

“Y/n”

“Baby.” Phrasing the word borderline as a threat “Would you have liked that baby boy?” Cocking your head to the side, tongue teasing your bottom lip “Me on my knees for you looking up at you all pretty, letting you hold my hair and fuck my throat until you came straight into my mouth?”

Speaking of mouths' your just straight fuckin-mayhem ...and it’s making Taehyung’s brain feel like it’s melting through his ears! But god should we be surprised though?

It’s never taken much with you....

You’ve always been just what he needs and a little bit more than he can take all in one! You haven’t even touched him yet and he feels a moan creeping up his throat! Especially as he watches you swirl the tip of your tongue over the whipped cream on the edge of your fork, sucking it between your overly glossed lips in the most obscene manner.

Eyes locked and loaded, a second away from drooling, “Fuck, yeah,” He stutters breath hitching on his lungs, heat coursing through his skin. Tae’s veins literally feel like they’re on fire, subtly trying to shift in his seat to readjust himself! Glancing subconsciously out of his peripheral, the restaurant still chill and half empty. The waitress on the opposite end of the room attending to another couple!

“You always look so damn good with my cock down your throat, and my cum on your tounge. God, especially when I wrap my hand around your throat and I can feel you swallowing down around my-” Your tongue’s swirling all over this damn fork, and he can feel every flick your tongue against his dick, and it’s just...fuck! Not to mention once you accidently spilled some whipped cream on your lips, which you took your time licking off as well. “Jesus-Fuck, Y/n!!” Taehyung’s voice is dripping with arousal, and you already know he’s leaking all over the place.

“Yeah?” Humming around the form before setting it to the side “ You like the way I look when I’m chocking on your cock?” These questions are all rhetorical, your an ass “Or how about when I get a little messy because I can’t fit it all in my mouth?” Your eyes darken, words coming out over low gasps of air, almost as if your just as aroused as he is and that’s because you are!

“Your always such a good boy for me, so helpful too holding my hair back, guiding my mouth until you hit the back of my throat...holding me in place until I gag. You know how much I love when you get rough with me ..” Tae feels the sole of your red buttons tease up his thigh, shifting between his legs. The transition was so damn smooth it catches him off guard, instinctively wanting to push away but instead...

“You’d be loud for me too wouldn’t you? Show them how good you look falling apart for me, how good you look when you come down my throat....The way your eyes roll-”

“Holy-fuck Baby” Aggressively running his palms over his face until it’s matching his shirt “Please don’t do this to me right, now, if your gonna give it to me then fuckin let me have it but I cant-.”

You can’t help but smile back at him, so fond it almost seems out of place in the moment. “I’ll give you whatever you want Tae...you know this. You just gotta promise you’ll be good for me, we can’t draw-”

“I’m always good” He damn near growled at you, eyes daring you to say otherwise and well, who were you to deny Tae of what he wants!?Gently pressing your foot at the base of his cock, a satisfied smirk playing on your lips upon feeling that your boys already fully hard.

It’s the way the two of you are just casually in one of LA’s boujeiest restaurants and your deadass about to give him a foot job in Louboutin’s! Yup, your life had turned into a porno, you’ve officially made it!

“Kay, so back to that list of sponsors, first off I completely agree, as much as I love our contact at Uber I’d prefer an actual car service for something like that.” Here you go again the queen of the switch up, you’re back to discussing work yet there’s still a slight moan in your tenor. Breathy and light and Tae feels like all the airs being sucked from his lungs.

Tae shifts, spreading his thighs even further, shuddering out a bated breath as you point your toe, dragging it up and down! It’s a peep-toe so that alone allows you a little more flexibility! Pressure intentionally light so it’s just enough to have him on the brink of begging! But instead of doing so, he picks up his phone, hands shaky and all and continue doing his job as requested!

“Right..” Clearing his throat not sure why he currently sounds like he’s going through puberty again but K... “I’ll let Hobi know, maybe we can do something we’re we use them while planning this party or something! Since you vetoed a party planner will have a lot more running around to do! Realistically outside of Joon and Jin we all have coupes anyway...so it’s not like we can carry much!”

Mmm, always the innovator, even when all the blood and airs being rushed to his dick! You feel him try and slide forward, chasing after the stimulation.

“Ohhh, I really like that, and like you said it still feels somewhat organic because realistically our cars aren’t efficient for something like that” You press down harder against his cock almost as a reward “Good boy, what’s next?” Nodding towards his phone and it takes every ounce of self control he had to swallow down the moan laying on his tongue.

Eyes struggling to stay ajar as you continuously rub your foot up and down his length. Now applying more prominent pressure with the ball of your feet! Movement stealth from the waist up so you don’t draw attraction to yourself.

“Tae Tae” The nickname falls from your lips singsong like, and far too innocent for the demon seed you are. “Next?”

He doesn't even know what to really do except follow instructions, so he just nods, scrolling through his phone. “There was also a couple brands wanted to oh fuck-“ Gasping as you pick up your pace, damn near dropping his phone into the plate beneath him.

Face splitting into an amused grin, a hint of something wicked playing on your lips. Eyes gleaming with mischief, you watch those long, delicate fingers flex, clearly struggling this time around to bite back the moan like he needs to! Hands shaking as your continue working him at a merciless pace. Rubbing faster, harder, utilizing the rounded point on the head of your heel to press right against what your assuming is Tae’s tip by the way he shudders. Thighs shaking as he grips the edge of the table for dear life!

“Oh my godddd” Tae manages to just mouth the words as opposed to screaming them the way he desperately wants too. Tugging on his own scalp, trying to just do something to get himself busy!

“You fuckin love this....” It’s not even a question, more of a consensus!

Your eyes haven’t left his once, watching intently as you swirl your tongue around the straw before taking a sip. Moaning around it because well ya know, the drinks just that damn good apparently.

God his skin feels like it’s on fire, every stroke of your foot has him feeling like he’s coming undone!

He’s trying to focus, on his surroundings, this damn list everything but he can’t he just fucking can’t! Thankfully it’s you, and he trust you with everything he has, so his subconscious is somewhat at ease with all of this because he knows you got him!

“Yeah,fuck yeah you already know you can do anything to me” He states plainly, the most stable his voice has sounded in god knows when “Whatever you want” Gaze heavy through hooded lashes, looking straight at you with steady sinful eyes.

“Mmm, and always want it don’t you baby? Always...:”

He bites back a moan nodding, and then his phone rings, of course his phone fucking rings and it’s coming from the office because why the fuck not?!

“Answer” The command was simple, clearly no room for debate and hs eyes go wide,

“Baby” Complaining with a hint of a whine in his voice and when you don’t seem to give a damn....

“Yeah?”Jaw tight, nostrils flared as he picks up the phone. Adrenaline flies through his veins, pressure building in his gut as you relentlessly keep your pace intact! Pressing harder and deeper into all the right places until he’s coughing around Moans to try and cover it up!

Dropping his head slightly, propping it on his elbow as he squeezes the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “ Welp, That's where it would be so if you don’t see any were out, email me a list and I’ll make a Amazon-“

Taehyung’s chest heaves painfully tight, breathing becoming more erratic with every stroke and yes clearly there’s a strong voyeurism kink within this man! So as crazy as it may sound , the combination of the restaurant, and this phone call ?!

Yeah, he’s not gonna last!

Slouching down completely against the back of the booth, thighs spreading to full capacity. Fingers tangled in his Smokey locks holding his bangs out of his face. Eyes shut , jaw tight, neck slightly reclined, though to the naked eye he’d just appear to be on a very unpleasant phone call! When in all actually he’s finally just letting himself fall apart beneath your touch!

Eyes fluttering open just enough to glance down at you in a way that had you feeling like you could come right with him. Your gaze is Just as heavy as his, lips darting out to wet your lips though your throats suddenly what’s running dry!

Tae’s lips part slightly, though he’s falling apart he’s giving it right back to you. Hitting you with those sinfully needy fuck me eyes! The same ones you see when your riding and edging him until he’s coming tenfold! His breathing comes stagnate every time your foot moves and Tae finds himself gnawing down on his bottom lip to stifle the moans sliding up his chest! You can tell who's on the other end now, it’s the new secretary Alanna, and she legitimately is still getting her footing! Which is the only reason Tae is even entertaining the call, well one of the reasons!

You notice Tae’s breathing is starting to even out a little almost as if he’s gained some of his self control back and we don’t support that in this household. So you proceed to dig your foot right into the head of his cock and he straight wheezes! Body jerking off the wall and all ...

“No, I’m, fuck-“ There’s a moan that finally falls freely off his tongue that only barley seems acceptable because he in fact just choked! Voice coming out what feels like a octave lower and huskier , poor Alanna! “Yeah i'm good sorry , food just went down the wrong pipe.” He can barely think straight but he knows he needs to close this up “Hey look will be back within the hour and will sort it out then alright?”

I don’t even think he even waited for her to respond before hanging up and literally throwing his phone across the table! Gucci case and all.

“Everything okay? ?” Voice low and teasing, he knows you're technically asking about the office but your timing sucks ass!

“Fuck you” Falls off his lips in a barley audible moan, so consumed as his orgasm builds in the pit of his stomach! Eyes still struggling to stay open mouth, mouth falling slack, if your were in your right mind you’d tell him to pull it together alittle! Now that he’s off the phone, he either looks like he’s getting a foot job, or like he’s high on meth! Neither are appealing to the GP! God, he must look utterly ridiculous right now, thankfully he’s shifted against the booth so he’s facing a wall as opposed to other guest!

“Mm, my pretty baby’s close yeah?” Watching how heavily his throat bobs as he swallows, Tae’s leaking precum all over the damn place, so, close hips gently rocking into your foot as discreetly as possible, growing more desperate by the second. Fuck he needs to come, he needs to!

“Yeah baby please don’t- fuck” God he sounds so good, so needy and pliant and fuck!

“I got you...” At that you actually kick your shoe off, moving back to press down even harder, rubbing and rubbing forcing Tae to attempt to grab his drink in attempts to muzzle himself. However his hands are shaking too hard and he almost knocks it over!

“God baby I’m-“

“Be a good boy for me”

And he is, coming with a shuddering breath, under the steady pressure of your foot as his release tears through his veins. Dropping his to the table as subtly as possible(Hell maybe people will think he’s tipsy or not feeling well), thighs shaking, chest heaving painfully hard. He’s not completely silently but he does a lot better than expected, a low groan manages to slip past his lips.

“Good boy” The praise rolls off your tongue and goes straight to his dick, as if he needed anymore stimulation there. Another faint whimper falls off his lips until he’s drooling all over the table. Not even realizing initially, that his hips were still grinding into you until he’s hissing from oversensitivity! The force of his orgasm has Taehyung drawing straight blanks, hearing nothing but white nose rustling in the background!

Also, I don’t know what that says about Tae as a person but he’s not even remotely humiliated! The only thing that he’s about to regret once his mind's less foggy is how absolutely drenched his YSL leather pants are!

So busy trying to get his breathing back in check as he comes down from his high, he completely missed the way you’d signaled to the server. Calmly asking for her to add 8 more slices of cake to go, and bring the bill over!

His face is flushed, his pants feel gross as hell but above everything else he feels so damn good! Reaching down to still your foot, gently massaging the top as his eyes finally flutter open! Vision still a little hazy as he looks back at you with a dazed smile, and your gazing back at him with so much fondness that the first thing that slurs off his lips in a whisper is....

“I fuckin love you!”

Flashing him a wink in return as you make eye contact with your servers whose letting you know she’ll be over in a moment. Keeping your foot stationary for a moment, enjoying the well deserved foot massage. Occasionally flexing your toes to “accidentally brush against his dick. Giggling around your drink every time he'd hiss and jerk away!

This entire lunch situation was a damn mess, and high key reckless but, the blissed out smile written all over his face is more than worth it. Where just ugh...not gonna tell the boys about this!

“Love you too Tae”

~~~~~~~~~

Everything from that moment on kind of feels like a blur honestly, up until the two of you sliding into your car and before you can even get yourself settled he’s on you! Yanking you out of your seat and into his lap before you can even put your seatbelt on which obviously is not ideal this is a sports car after all but you don’t dare complain! Taehyung’s far from shy with his wants, griping the back of your neck, sliding his fingers through your hair as he presses your lips together! He doesn’t try to ease you into it either It’s hard, hungry, desperate and overtly needy! Forcing both of you to huff out a staggered breath through your nose to even keep up! You breathe him in, and he breathes you out, it’s all open mouthed, and heady, an obscene amount of moans rolling off your tongues. Reclining your jaw, giving him free reign to explore your mouth. Tongue rolling against your slick and languid with years of finesse between the two of you. No matter how hard he’s kissing you it still doesn’t feel rushed, its deep, borderline sensual actually!

Tae pulls back just enough to nip at your bottom lip, dragging his across your jaw and down the side of your neck! Licking sucking and biting, along your skin, moaning at the way you arch and grind your hips into every touch! The two of you carry on like that until there’s suddenly something thumbing in the back of your throat!

“Hey..” There's a slight sternness within your voice that has him instantly trying to snap out of his postcoital haze. Stroking the hinge of his jaw “You know, how much I love you right? And if, we need to all sit down a re-”

Cutting you off with the smooth glide of his lips pulling you into a kiss that’s a slower, less needy, there’s no ulterior motive, Tae just wants to feel you “Nah, I don't wanna change anything sometimes- I just want-”

“I know...” Because you do, pressing your forehead to his, not even kissing just letting your breaths melt as one. Massaging his scalp gently, he already looks like he’s a second away from passing out! Pondering if maybe the two of you should switch places...

“Promise you’ll let me take care of you later” Tae nuzzles against the side of your face like a puppy wanting his ears scratched! Believe it or not he wasn’t always such a selfless lover, not until he found you guys! Now it’s almost like his orgasms feel incomplete if he’s the only one coming once it’s all said and done!

“You can do whatever you want to me Tae, you know this.” Placing a couple lingering kisses on those pouty lips of his before hesitantly shuffling into the passengers seat. Transfixed on the way he slips back into his lane, fixing his hair, pulling out his oversized cat eye frames to rest on the bridge of his nose. One hand on the wheel the other finding there home on your thigh. Noting the slight discomfort as he shifts in his seat, no doubt due to the fact that well, he just came in his pants.

“How about..” Leaning over to place a open mouth kiss right beneath is ear, digging your nails into his thigh until he moans. “ I clean you up a little on the drive, and we pit stop at mine, and we drop you off first so you can shower and chill. Then me and Joon will come back and crawl into bed with you after were done for the day..”

“Am I being given the rest of the day off Mrs. Kim?” You can already hear the smirk in his voice without even looking...

“Yes Mr. Kim that would be correct....” Already working the zipper before he can even respond because you already know how this is about to pan out...

___________________

Hi my babies, first off IDK where this came from, I also wouldn’t consider it my best, but it was the first thing I’ve written in like 6 months which felt good. This was supposed to be up back in December I had a couple holiday prompts for the series that I never got around to completing ! But If you enjoyed show this some love and come talk to me!

Love always,

Rocki

#taehyung #taehyung smut #taehyung x reader #kim taehung #kim taehyung smut #bts #bts smut #bts x reader #kim taehyung x reader #kpop #kpop smut

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owlespresso · 4 years ago

Text

your favorite mistake/nhaza’a jaab

spice below the cut. be warned. m!reader/nhaza’a jaab

It was a mistake. You understood that from the very start, you should have stayed far away. Yet, Nhaza’a Jaab made it easy to lose yourself. He came in the form of dark flesh tone and sharpened fangs. He came in the form of toned muscle and bare skin, in the form of his husky voice and low crooning.

He left behind him a trail of crimson, a slew of bodies. The beastmen you came to know and treasure were felled by him in vast quantities. He was a vile man, concerned with only his own pleasure and the thrill of the hunt. He was the kind of abhorrent individual you’d sooner end than entertain.

“O-oh! Nhaza’a!”

So why were you here?

Darkness clouded your vision, your face pressed to the rich silken sheets he seemed to adore so much. Your breath escaped you in loud pants and whines, a symphony of noises he teased from your waiting, tense body. His fingers clutched your hips tight and demanding, bringing you forward, back, forward, back. You didn’t have to think, didn’t have to put forth the effort to move on your own.

Fangs buried into the skin of your shoulder, a warm, barbed tongue lavishing over the previously unblemished skin. You gasped a shrill curse, fingers curling tight into the sheets. This wasn’t a part of the deal–you had never given him permission to mark you. The muscles in your arms strain and flex in an attempt to scramble upwards. One of his hands left its place on your hip to rest on your neck, pointedly shoving you down onto the sheets.

“Ah, ah, ah. It would do you well to remember who is in command here,” he purred, emphasizing his point with another well-aimed thrust. It knocks the breath out of you, heat squirming in your belly and dancing down your spine, encouraging your eyes to close. “It’s you who wants nothing more than to cum squealing on my cock. Now settle down and take what I’ve so generously deigned to give you.”

Your tight hole stretched around his lube-slicked cock, stretched round by his girth. Your hardened dick hangs neglected and aching beneath you, but you were given nary a moment to think as he somehow pushed deeper, wringing an ecstatic scream from your already exhausted throat.

“Oh, fuck! Nhaza’a!” For a sliver of a moment, you recalled vowing to yourself that you would not beg or cry for him–but the stacked pleasure drove all thought and memory from your addled mind, leaving you to do little but push back into his throbbing cock, fingers clawing into the sheets.

“As much as I love your begging,” he began. The hand that had grasped you by the back of your neck returned to your hips to dig into the pliant flesh, holding you still, as though you were a mere receptacle for him to empty into. The thought of it, of being so thoroughly used, is what pushed you over the edge.

You spilled onto the mattress with a pathetic, stuttering cry. He fucked you through it, not allowing you a moment’s reprieve. Spurts of white hot cum sunk into the bunched sheets, spare droplets sent further up the bed due to the sheer violence of his incredible thrusts.

“How would your friends react if they saw their precious hero so willingly pliant underneath the man who has slaughtered hundreds?” he rasped, his delight palpable. He began to lose his rhythm, nails biting into your unblemished skin as his orgasm nipped at his heels. “Imagine how disgusted they would be. I-Imagine—”

He cut himself off with a low snarl, teeth burying into a new patch of skin. Pain blossomed and spread underneath your heated skin. The fading pleasure caused you to feel it in striking clarity, your eyes clenching shut. You didn’t protest, your bones and muscles turned to gelatin under the oppressive length of his body.

He spilled inside of you, hips stuttering and trembling as he emptied himself. You were hardly given a moment to rest before white hot shame caused your ears to burn. Mere moments later, he pulled out, leaving you feeling agonizingly empty. A shiver rolled down your spine, goosebumps rolling over your skin as he slid off of you, collapsing to the side.

The sheets were soft against your flank as you settled in, rendered thoroughly breathless. He’d knocked the breath straight out of you, turned every inch of you to jelly. Blessed silence filled the space between you, his sneers and jabs forgotten as both of you tried to catch your breath.

Never again. Never again would you do this. This was a one time mistake, motivated by loneliness, by a hunger only he had been around to fill. Your lazy eyes opened, gaze rolling up and down his body. He stretched out languidly over the luxurious bed, already dozing. Hazy sunlight filtered in through a gap in the curtains and cast his blond hair in a sheer glimmer.

This was the first and last time, you told yourself, resolute and firm.

The last time.

---

“N’hazaa!” Your trembling fingers clutched his hair as though it was a lifeline, eyes shut, lips opened around a trembling sigh. His palms, slippery with lubricant, worked your hard cock up and down, leaving you a desperate, shaking mess.

Blinding rays of sun dappled through the plush canopy, shedding small spots of sun over the both of you. Yet another reminder that you could be spotted at any moment, a reminder which almost jars you to pull away.

He rewarded your desperate coo of his name with a low growl, lips currently fixed around your nipple. Any and all thoughts of fleeing vanish from your mind as he gave it a merciless suck. The prick of his fangs, paired with the texture of his tongue caused your back to arch and wiggle, pushing every inch of your body towards him.

“Pretty little warrior,” he sighed after pulling away, releasing your teased nub with a lewd popping sound. “You run yourself ragged toiling at the behest of those beastmen when you’re much better suited to be a cocksleeve.”

His low sneer caused your consciousness to surface, anger and embarrassment making you flush hot and heavy. The fingers that fisted in his hair gave a brutal tug, forcing him an ilm or two away from your chest.

“Fuck off.” you growled, eyes narrowing. His eyebrows furrowed into a scowl, the deep set red of the left glowing in the dim of the room.

“Given how spectacularly you reacted during our last rendezvous, I doubt you want me to do that,” his calloused fingers slid away from your flushed member and between your ass cheeks, brushing against your tight hole. You twitched, granting him an involuntary abet sharp intake of breath. Your teeth sink into your lower lip in a desperate bid to keep your voice down, lest any approaching travelers hear.

A fresh wave of humiliation caused you to avert your gaze from his gleaming eyes and smug expression.

“Nhaza’a,” you grumbled, hands resting on his broad shoulders. Your fingers squeezed at the broad muscle, feebly massaging the ample flesh. Every moment that passed only made you more aware of your untouched, abandoned arousal. His neglect caused your frustration to spike. If he was going to taunt you, then he should at least make good on his promise and fuck you! “Just fuck me already. Get on with it.”

“Ah, ah, ah. Be patient, my lovely,” he soothed. His nimble fingers brushed over your taint, at last returning to your agonized cock. You tilted your head back against the firm bark as he wrapped his hand around the throbbing length. Your mouth fell open around a sanguine little moan as he renewed his efforts. Slower than before, but nonetheless back, nonetheless what you needed. “See? The wait is well worth it. A bastard you may think I am, but never will I allow you to leave me unsatisfied.”

Fuck. The stubborn part of you wanted to speak up and deny it, tell him he wasn’t anything better than you had before. But doing so would just prompt him to pull away again, and that you cannot bear.

His speed began to pick up as the moments passed, mind clouded and rolling with waves of unseemly pleasure. You bucked your hips to meet him, your pleas silenced by his lips. He kissed you with the intent to devour, to smother, stealing your attention and demanding you give it to nothing else, no one else but he.

Nhaza’a Jaab, a terrible man who you never should have reached out to in the first place. Your world writhed and went dark as you shut your eyes, unwilling to look at him as your orgasm swept you. Pleasure danced up and down your spine and along your nerves as you gasped, pulling fresh air in and out of your shivering lungs.

“Nhaza’a.” Your head lolled backwards, eyes cracking open, dancing along the fresh green leaves as they rustled with the cool gales.

#nhaza'a jaab #nhaza'a #FFXIV #final fantasy xiv

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wincestismyguiltypleasure · 5 years ago

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My god, you write so fantastically, the visuals you create with your words are just *chefs kiss*. If I may be so bold, could you maybe write a little one shot around the prompt of Pinning Dean, maybe he jerks off at night in the motel bathroom with Sammy’s boxers wrapped tight around his hand, he feels disgusted with himself but he needs it, he needs his brother and it kills him. Maybe a little unhinged, but that’s how I like my Dean. Adore you 😘

Hey there, my precious anon!! 💕💕 Thank you SO much!! This is the BIGGEST compliment. Seriously, LET ME LOVE YOU. 😭 And of course, babe!! Here ya go. 💕💕 I hope you like it! (I adore YOU! 💋)

Dean knows that he shouldn't be sharing a bed with his sixteen year old brother. Not when the queen sized bed behind him was freshly made and completely empty. Their father would lose his shit if he ever found out.

But Dean also knew that he was weaker than he'd ever like to admit, and that those big misty puppy dog eyes of Sam's were a God damn weapon. One pleading look bringing him to his knees faster than any kick or jab his little brother could ever throw.

"Good night, Dean."

There's something so delicate and pure in the way Sam whispers his name into the darkness. Like a Siren's call, soothing him and driving him mad all at the same time. That sound made Dean ache so deeply, and it made him want. It made him want something from his little brother that he shouldn't ask for...that he couldn't ask for.

"Night, Sammy."

For a brief moment after that, everything is still and Dean thinks maybe, just this once, he will be able to get some sleep. The older boy still holding out hope that he would be safe from his unspeakably twisted thoughts when he finally slipped into unconsciousness.

"Love you."

Sam's voice sounded so small when he spoke next but shit, did it pack a powerful punch. Those two agonizingly sweet words echoing in Dean's ears loud enough to split his head in two; breath catching in his throat when Sam gathered up the courage that Dean could never find to scoot a little closer.

"I-uh, I'll be right back," Dean stutters in reply, his fingers twitching uncontrollably as he drug himself out of bed and stumbled into the bathroom. God, he'd wanted to touch Sam so fucking bad just then. Fuck! Sam had almost touched him.

The very thought of Sam's hands on him made Dean's skin start to prickle and turn bright red as he leaned his head back against the locked door, cursing under his breath.

Jesus, it was almost unbearable, the heat he felt speading across his body. Like someone had taken a lighter to his flesh. Holding the flame there with malice, just to watch him squirm.

"Get it together, Dean. C'mon."

If only it were that easy.

"Oh you sick fuck," Dean growls at himself when his eyes land on a pair of light blue boxers that had been discard on the bathroom floor and long since forgotten.

Sam's boxers.

Shame sits heavy on Dean's chest as he bends over to pick them up, so overwhelming and absolute that he can barely catch his breath this time.

"You're so stupid!" He scolds through gritted teeth as he hits his head back against the door. Trying to knock some God damn sense into himself. But there was none to be had, because this whole situation didn't make any sense. And even if it did, Dean was too far gone for his baby brother to see.

"God damn it, Sammy...you make me so crazy...you-"

A mournful sigh slips past Dean's nervoulsy bitten lips as he wraps Sam's dirty boxers around his fist, squeezing the wrinkled material so desperately that it makes his knuckles turn chalk white.

"Sam."

Dean tries to hold off at first, testing out a couple slow, sensual rolls of hips. The much needed friction sending a shockwave of pleasure shooting down his spine with every crude, deliberate motion.

At this point, Dean was so painfully hard that he was almost on the verge of tears.

God, he'd tried to ignore it though. That sick urge he had to run his fingers through his baby brother's messy hair. He'd lie awake every night for hours listening to the soft hum of Sam's breath, obsession latching on to him like a leech. The insatiable creature feeding freely off Dean's wicked thoughts until he was almost drained; too weak and delirious to stop himself from stealing a kiss from those devastatingly beautiful lips.

And tonight, it was so much worse. He couldn't ignore those undeniable urges. Not when his little brother had been so close, fansty bleeding into reality until Dean swore he could almost feel his nails rake over the long, smooth curve of Sam's back. Swore he could hear his little brother chant his name like a prayer, begging him to take and take until there was nothing left.

It was fucked up and twisted. And it made Dean hate himself more than he could ever put into words. Seriously. How could he trick his brain into thinking that Sam wanted something so filthy and wrong as his touch on that flawless skin?

"Fuck."

Dean squeezed his eyes close and tried to push the thought of his brother out of his mind. Trembling right hand sneaking past the waistband of his pajama pants as he willed himself to picture anything but a pair of wide trusting eyes and a gorgeous smile that was bright enough to put the sun to shame. But it was no use. Sam's lips were poisoned apple red and Dean was dying for a taste.

"Sammy...oh God."

An excruciating mix of pain and pleasure streaked across Dean's abdomen when he brought Sam's boxers up to his nose, breathing the fabric in deeply. The familiar smell of cheap laundry detergent and sweat filling his lungs and making him ache as he started to jerk himself off. It was fast and rough and so fucking dirty but Dean couldn't bring himself to care. He needed to come before he actually lost his mind.

"Fuck!"

Dean's orgasm hit him like a tidal wave. Guilt and ecstacy crashing over him, twisting and gnawing at his insides until he didn't know which way was up. He fought and clawed to reach the surface but no matter how hard he struggled, he couldn't espace his shame.

"Jesus Christ, Dean," he mutters, hitting the back of his head against the door again in disgust.

"Dean? You okay in there?"

The sound of his brother's voice, a little groggy and far more gentle than Dean ever deserved, made the older boy nearly jump out of his skin.

"Yeah!" Dean can't even hide the fact that he sounds completely wrecked when he answers. God, he was so pathetic. "Yeah, Sam. I'm fine. Go back to sleep."

"But-"

"I said I'm fine!"

Before he could stop himself, Dean used his boxer clad fist to punch the paint chipped door that separated Sam and him in frustration. Almost immediately regretting his decision because he knew by the surprised yelp his little brother let out that violent noise had made Sam flinch. Fuck. As if Dean needed another reason to feel like absolute trash.

"Hey, I'm sorry. Why don't you wanna go back to bed, Sam?"

"...You're gonna make fun of me."

Well, that hurt like Hell.

"I'm not gonna make fun of you, baby. I promise. Just tell me what's wrong."

Dean feels so exhausted. The muscles in his legs starting to spasm and burn as he presses his forehead against the door and silently begs Sam to reply.

"It's hard to fall asleep without you next to me," the younger boy finally confesses after what feels like an eternity of silence. "And I'm cold...I know you hate it or whatever, but can you please just cuddle me until I pass out? Please Dean?"

Fuck, if Sam only knew.

"Just- give me like fifteen minutes, okay Sammy?" Dean pleaded, not even trying to hide the fact that his little brother had him wrapped around his finger.

"Yeah, of course, Dean. No rush."

The older boy didn't realize he had been holding his breath until he heard Sam start move away from the door.

"Shit."

Dean was still sore from the intensity of his orgasm, and he felt absolutely disgusting but that didn't stop his dick from twitching at the thought of holding Sam.

God, if he made it through this night without doing something he knew he was going to regret, it'd be a miracle.

"You're so fucking screwed, Winchester."

#weecest #Wincest #guilty!Dean #💕💕💕💕#thanks again for this ridiculously sweet message my darling anon!#I hope this doesn't suck as much as I think it does 😂

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decadent-indulgence · 4 years ago

Text

Idre - Fire

CW: Mention of blood and wounds. Restrained character. As she stirred, her toes grazed the dust off the rough stone floor. She swallowed a cry. Lucrezia realised that she was hanging by her wrists, this stretched the cut on her back agonizingly. Her arms ached with the strain of her weight. Even without opening her eyes, Lucrezia could tell that she was in a crypt. The sense of desolation sat heavy. The lack of life, the cold auras of wronged spirits, weakened her further. It sapped her power, but not her resolve, or so she told herself. Lucrezia had to believe that it would take more than this for her to crack. Her eyes opened slowly.

The dungeon was dimly and kindly lit by small torches that sat in their sockets on the corners. An ornate oval mirror stood in front of her, angled in a manner that allowed her to witness the state of her body - Embarrassingly weakened and injured was an apt assessment. Lucrezia cursed herself for her folly, for allowing her capture at the hands of someone like Hadrian. His silken voice stirred rage in her, ‘Good of you to join me, I was beginning to worry I’d be lost to boredom.’

His reflection emerged in the mirror like a ghost. He stood on a sarcophagus just behind her. His finger traced the curve of her waist. She wanted to arch away from his touch, but had nowhere to go, Lucrezia snapped, ‘Don’t you fucking touch me.’ He curled his hand across her flesh till his nails dug into her skin and he made a cruel point, ‘I don’t think you need me to explain your predicament, Lucy.’ While the pain of his gesture could barely compete for her attention with everything else, the implication made her stomach knot up.

He let her go, but a finger remained to collect the sticky rivulet of blood that the wound still wept. The dreaded drethilite dagger swam into her vision. Once again, she felt the urge to recoil and hated how limited her range of motion was. He held it in front of her eyes so she could see the rune he drew at the base of the blade, using her blood as ink. Idre - Fire. The dark red blood turned fiery and then glowed till it looked like an ember. The rune dissolved and soon the entire shaft of the knife was the same hue. It dully illuminated her face and she could feel the heat it radiated. From the corner of her eyes, she could see his crooked grin in the mirror as he spoke, ‘Here, let me help you. ’ Without warning, he pressed the flat of the hot blade against the cut and over unmarred skin. The shriek echoed in the crypt. He crooned in her ear, ‘Shh. Shh. Shh… This will stop the spread of the Glyvil, I’m doing you a favor Lucy. You should thank me.’ That was a bold faced lie. Even if he really was helping her, it certainly would not have earned him any gratitude. The influence of the elixir left her physically weakened, but it also diminished her senses. Now that she was already restrained and at his mercy, it was obvious that he wished for her to feel the full extent of his wrath. She knew he wanted to watch her struggle and squirm because he knew she would. Hadrian wanted to use her own strength against her. Lucrezia snarled, ‘You're a sick sellout.’ He replied through a smirk, ‘Maybe. But I get to have fun and you don’t. She vowed to not make a sound as he finished the process. Lucrezia succeeded, at the cost of her teeth drawing blood from her lower lip. Hadrian managed to taint even that small piece of hubris by recognizing her tolerance, ‘How valiant of you to endure in silence.’ He circled around and stepped in front of her. The black garb that covered him, revealed no other part of him, except his face and his hands. She arched her head away from him, but his thumb stroked her bitten lip regardless. He collected more crimson and drew yet another rune at the base of that godforsaken dagger. Hadrian did nothing to keep the honest adoration out of his voice and that only made his words grate more, ‘I admire your strength, Lucy. While we wait for the others, I’d love to see more of it.’ Her eyes widened at the mention of others. That could mean several things and none were good. She didn’t get to dwell on it as he turned the knife to let her see the rune, Ikhuve - Thunder. Then he placed the tip of the weapon into the hollow below her neck…

#whump #oc #lady whump #fantasy #fantasy whump #witch hunting #cauterization #restrained #hanging from a ceiling #blood tw #fic

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gaycrouton · 5 years ago

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Holy shit you write smut so damn well I needed to lay down for a minute. Any chance you’d take a prompt of a massage turned nsfw? Is it a kink? A trope? Idk but it’s hot 😛

Thank you so much, wonderful anon!! This is my second oldest prompt, so I’m sorry it took me 500 years to get to it, but I’m excited about it!! I’m going to go extremely out of my comfort zone and try, for what I believe is the first time ever, to write in second person. I’m nervous, this is an experiment, so please bear with me.

msr / s7 - set during the season of intense ust as I like to call it. (also, do I think this is actually how their first time would go? no, but anything can be explored in fanfic This version has been beta’d, thank you @admiralty-xfd]

You know it’s a bad idea before the words even leave your mouth, but you can’t help yourself - he looks like he is in pain and the doctor in you knows you can relieve his muscle tension (the lover in you knows that the method has been very well received by men in the past, and you’d do anything to see those expressions on Mulder’s face or hear those sounds come from his lips).

It isn’t as innocent or platonic as you tried to pretend it was.

“How about you turn around so your back is to me? I think I can help your pain,” you tell him in a tone of voice that leaves no room for argument.

But Mulder is ever the contrarian, “I-That’s okay, Scully. I don’t want to put you out.” His attempt at politeness is futile because you are already adjusting yourself onto your knees on the leather couch cushion, pivoting your body to face his.

“I insist,” you demand. You hope he doesn’t hear the slight tremor in your voice that feels like it’s radiating through your whole body. In your new position, you’re inadvertently closer to his height. You can feel your knees sliding towards him from his weight’s indentation on the couch and your thighs burn in your attempt to prevent yourself from sliding flush against him.

“Well, who am I to turn down a free massage?” he laughs, trying to mask his nervousness with humor, just as you’ve tried to mask yours with professionalism.

You let out a small breath as he turns and brings one leg up onto the couch, keeping the other planted on the ground, so that his back is to you. It’s not like either of you are puritans who’ve never touched, no. There was last week when you were bold enough to lay your legs across his lap as you watched the movie playing, both of you conscious about the growing bulge under your calf, but neither making a move to say anything - not even when his pants were tented as you left and you were bold enough to hug him. There was the other day at your place when some ice cream melted down your chin and onto your clavicle and he cleaned you up with his tongue, all while maliciously avoiding your lips which, despite having just touched ice cream, felt like they were on fire.

It was the recent closeness, the recent boldness, that has you both on edge. It’s one thing to recognize that a situation is intimate, it’s another to recognize a situation as intimate with the impending prospect of it quickly and easily turning into more.

And you want it to be more.

Oh, fuck, do you want it to be more.

You’ve been trying to gather the courage to snuggle against his side in the hopes he might just wrap his arm around you for the last hour since he popped in the VHS tape of Mrs. Doubtfire. Then he’d made that offhand comment about having slept wrong, and fate handed you a new idea on a silver platter.

You rest your hands on his shoulders for ‘stability’ as you lean yourself forward, so close that your breasts rub against his back, and more importantly so your mouth is against his ear. “Tell me if it hurts or if you need me to stop,” you whisper lowly, and you can feel his suppressed shudder beneath your palms.

If he weren’t being adorably shy, something unexpected and indescribably endearing you’ve discovered since you both started dancing in this will-they-won’t-they limbo, you think that he might’ve said something lascivious like “Hey, that’s usually my line.” But he is nervous, so he just nods.

Starting at his shoulders, you spread your fingers slightly to cover more surface area as you dig in with your palms in a circular motion. His neck falls forward almost immediately and, your own selfish arousal aside, knowing that you’re easing his pain makes you happy. You repeat the motion rhythmically over and over, moving your hands slowly over and around his shoulder blades, making sure you use your thumbs to massage around his spine.

“You’re really good at this,” he rasps in a low voice filled with relief (which in these moments sounds startlingly like pleasure) and it shoots straight through you.

“Thanks,” you reply, and if he’s surprised your tone matches his when you’re not even the one being touched, he doesn’t make a comment.

You scootch closer to him, close enough that you swear you can feel his body heat radiating through his thin shirt and then you get an idea.

“Can I take off your shirt?”

You’re not going to pretend like there’s a reason. You think for a moment about boasting how it’d make the massage more effective, but there’s no point when part of you wants him to know that you want to touch his body.

“Yeah,” he agrees, lifting his arms like a child. You’re confused for a moment before you realize he’s holding you to your word. You didn’t ask if he could take off his shirt, you asked if you could. It wasn’t purposeful, but you’re thankful for the small gift.

You move your hands down to the hem of his shirt and you drag it obscenely slowly up his body, making sure your fingers glide against his torso the whole way up. As the shirt passes the area in front of your face, you are overwhelmed by the waft you get of his scent and you swear to yourself it’s one of the world’s most powerful aphrodisiacs.

You toss the shirt onto the floor next to the couch and you’re left with a canvas of flesh in front of you that’s been painted with goosebumps. “Cold?” you joke.

“Quite the opposite,” he replies with a small smile clear in his tone.

You swallow thickly in response to his bold answer and put your hands back onto his body, this time squeezing up and down the length of his arms, feeling his taut, strong muscles under his soft flesh. You’re touching him with so much reverence, it feels like you’re reading scripture in braille - but the comparison doesn’t quite fit. Scripture could never conjure the sinful thoughts Mulder’s flesh does.

You shift your weight on your knees as you feel another gush of arousal dampen the crotch of your underwear and you start to fear he might smell you in the air like a perfume - Eau de Scully. As you shift, your breasts rub inadvertently against his back and you swear he pushes back lightly against you at the same time you hear a sharp intake of breath. Maybe it was your own gasp - you’re drunk off the feeling of his skin beneath you and nothing else seems to really matter.

Bringing your hands to the nape of his neck, you start a downward path to his tail bone. It’s an agonizingly long journey though, because with every vertebra you descend, your hands flutter horizontally to his sides just to come back again and continue your descent down. It’s like you’re memorizing the geographic plains and territories of his back like a map you’re committing to memory.

A few times as you’ve been doing this, he’s let out little sighs of pleasure. There’s even been a few small moans that he’s tried to cut off in the back of his throat which only serve to make them sound like strangled groans. You’re all but squeezing your thighs together rhythmically in harmony with every time you press down into his muscle. It almost crudely feels like you’re masturbating using Mulder’s body as the conduit for your own pleasure and it’s insanely erotic.

Speaking of masturbation, glancing down, you can tell Mulder has both hands resting in between his legs and out of sight. You may have just believed he was covering up his inevitable erection, but that doesn’t explain why you can see his forearms flex ever so slightly. He’s rubbing against himself and you know it.

And you want to be the one doing it.

You’ve undoubtedly covered every inch of his body by now and the room is charged with tension. The Scully from a few months ago, who let’s be honest - would never have been in this situation to begin with, would have patted him on the back, said “there you go” and politely ignored the way he ran to the bathroom and ran the water for a few minutes.

But you started this knowing full well there was only one real way for this to go and you’re done prolonging the inevitable. Once you’re at the base of his spine, you continue your pattern of going out horizontally, now towards his hips. Except this time you don’t stop. You can feel his body tense in anticipation of your unexpected move as your fingers glide smoothly over his hip bones. Your left hand moves so that you’re encircling his waist as the other slides over the front of his jeans so that you’re palming his erection.

His hips thrust languidly into your hand as his head falls back onto your shoulder. “Fuck, Scully,” he gasps in awe as you move your hand up and down his erection with gentle pressure.

You can feel his words against your collarbone since he’s laying on you, and you take advantage of the position to lower your head so you can suck on the tender skin covering a tendon in his neck. One of his hands comes up to cradle your head and it sends shivers down your spine to feel his nails graze your scalp.

You let go of his neck in favor of nipping at his earlobe as you move to undo the clasp of his pants. The button has just come undone when he deftly spins in your arms. The unexpectedness of his movements has you falling backwards, but he catches you as you shift your knees out from underneath you.

The end result is you reclined on your back, looking up at Mulder who’s in between your parted legs and hovering over you with the gaze of a lion who’s just set eyes on a lamb. You can feel your heart pounding in your chest as you breathe quickly. You know you’re wearing your arousal like a second skin and you don’t feel anything other than excitement.

Mulder’s eyes lower onto your rising and falling chest and you know he’s looking at your hardened nipples, standing out prominently against the thin fabric of your t-shirt. He brings his hands up to the bottom edge and looks to your face for permission. “May I?” he requests breathily.

You nod and arch your back as he gives you the same torturous treatment you gave him earlier. You’re pretty sure he’s only actually grabbing your shirt with his pinky and ring fingers, because he’s palming and fondling your sides enthusiastically, grabbing at them like your body is his lifeline.

You’re temporarily blinded as your shirt covers your eyes, and when you can see again, you’re greeted with Mulder licking his lips as he stares at your thin, nude bra. It’s not the sexiest thing you own, but the way Mulder’s appraising you, you’re fairly certain you could be wearing a burlap sack.

You lock eyes and you don’t want any roadblocks for whatever he has planned for you. Lifting your hips, and rubbing yourself against his leg in the process, your hands dart to unbutton your jeans and lower your zipper. Mulder’s eyes follow your hands and he moans from the visual stimulation alone. He steps off the couch for a moment and finishes what you started earlier, unzipping his own pants and stepping out of them, toeing off his socks while he watches you wiggle your hips and bring your jeans down your legs.

Mulder finishes the job by grabbing the legs of your pants and pulling at them, helping them slide off the rest of your legs. It was easier than either of you anticipated, so he stumbles back, just catching himself in time before falling on his ass, and the force makes you half slide off the couch. A laugh erupts from your throat at how eager you both are and he smiles at you in kind.

The laughter dies down as his eyes greedily roam your bra and underwear clad body and you’re not sure whether to scoot back into the same position or do something different. Everything feels suddenly more vulnerable now that you’re both so bare. Mulder must be thinking the same thing because he speaks up, “I can’t believe we’re really doing this.” His disbelief is matched in his tone and it makes you want to make sure he leaves this encounter knowing that this is what you’ve wanted for god knows how long.

You extend a hand out to him and he takes your cue to grab it and help you to your feet. Yet again, neither of you realize the power of your excitement as you launch yourself too hard and he overcompensates, sending you straight into his arms. Which was the goal anyway so it doesn’t matter to you.

You stand on your tiptoes and wrap your arms around his neck, pressing your whole body flush against his so that you can feel his erection pressing into your stomach, only heightening your own arousal. You shift and squirm your body against his so that you’re rubbing yourself against him. He groans and unexpectedly grabs you by the undersides of your thighs and hoists you up so that his erection is right against your swollen folds. You’re looking down at him now and still, despite the fact you just not-so-subtly tried to seduce him, he is looking at you as if asking silent permission and affirmation that what he is doing is okay.

You tentatively rock your hips against him and you both hiss in a breath. His fingers dig into your thighs, pressing you intimately closer to him and you feel your eyes roll to the back of your head.

Trying to blink away the sensation for a moment, because there’s still something you need to do, you look down at him and, placing a finger under his chin, lift his gaze to your eyes. “I’ve wanted this for so long, Mulder,” you breathe.

You don’t give him a chance to reply before your lips are crashing onto his. He opens his mouth eagerly and you accept the invitation without a moment’s thought. You’re kissing Mulder. Mulder’s kissing you. You gasp into his mouth as you feel something cold against your back and your eyes shoot open and you realize he’s walked you both over to the nearest wall and he has you pinned against it with his hips.

His lips move to your neck where he starts mimicking your earlier actions on him, but there’s this little thing he’s doing with his tongue that makes your toes curl and makes a doofy smile cross your lips. You begin, to the best of your ability, undulating your hips against him so you can feel his cock throb against you, it causes him to groan into your neck and you decide in that moment you’ve both waited long enough.

Reaching down, you tug at his boxers, but your joined hips prevent them from sliding down. He careens his head back to look at you through hooded lids and asks “Are you sure?”

“Now,” you demand. You’re pretty sure you could’ve been more eloquent if you weren’t so damned aroused, but the message was received loud and clear either way. He pulls back only slightly so that he can free himself and you can sense he’s going to set you down so you can take off your underwear but you’d sooner die than break the contact. “No, just move them,” you whine, and yet again, he does as he’s told but this time with a cocky, aroused smile.

You feel your entire body jolt in pleasure as his head brushes against your aching clit and ll thoughts are wiped from your brain as he plunges his thick cock into you, stretching and filling you.

“Mulder,” you gasp as if the word is ripped from your soul, clenching your thighs around his waist and arching your back. The intensity of your reaction to him makes him have to readjust his footing, but he’s stabilized in no time and is soon enough thrusting into you, going deeper and deeper with each upward jerk of his hips. “Oh my god,” you moan as you enjoy the sensation of your partner, your best friend, Fox Mulder being inside you.

“You feel so- Scully I can’t believe…” he groans into your ear, his whole body rubbing against yours as he bucks against you. The picture frames that are adorning the same wall your body’s been mounted on are shaking with the force of your lovemaking and it takes one falling to the ground with a loud crash for you to remember how this all started.

“Mulder,” you call out. You realize he’s taking it as another cry of pleasure as he responds with ‘fuck yeah’, and you have to say it again. The pleasure in your tone can’t be shaken though, as you tap his shoulder.

“Hmm?” he hums in questioning as he immediately stills inside you.

“Y-your back. You’re sore,” you murmur, as if you really think his back is what he’s thinking of while he’s balls deep in you.

“Fuck my back,” he replies, leaning in to place a kiss to your lips, which you allow for a selfish moment before pulling back.

“No, lay down,” you demand.

He cocks an eyebrow in eager curiosity as he slides out of you and lets you down to your feet. Realistically, you didn’t specify, but part of you is still shocked when he lies down on the hardwood floor. You didn’t specify, and you don’t care. This probably isn’t any better for his back, but seeing him lying in his glory, his erection at full mast, while he looks at you with those eyes has you on your knees and aligning yourself on top of him instantly, stopping only for a moment to shuck off your panties.

He grabs your hips and lets out a slow breath as you lower down onto him. You sit on him, his cock fully plunged inside of you as you reach around yourself to unclasp your bra, earning a “Holy shit, Scully,” as you throw it away from yourself, leaving you bare to him.

You start rocking on him and he lifts his hands to cup and play with the weight of your breasts. You’ve done the same self examination countless times, but it feels so much different with his larger, rougher hands, and you can’t help put lean forward into his touch, encouraging him to knead and pinch them in exploration.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs as he readjusts his legs into a position where he can meet you thrust for thrust.

One of his hands leaves your breasts and feels the skin of your collarbone, then your neck (you wonder if he can feel your heart thrumming through the thin skin), and continues up until his thumb is stroking your lip.

Locking eyes with him, you draw the digit into your mouth and swirl your tongue around it before hollowing your cheeks. His mouth drops open in pleasure and you trail over the grooves on the pad of his thumb with the tip of your tongue before getting an idea. You release the digit, feeling the trail of saliva connecting your mouth and his thumb snap back lewdly against your chin. “Touch me,” you command, wanting some attention on your screaming clit. You’re so close you can feel it.

He nods and lowers the wet thumb to your bud, putting pressure on it instantly. “Oh fuck,” you scream, letting your palms splay out on his chest as you pick up your pace, snapping your hips against him as rhythmically as you can. He’s swirling against you with fervored intention and you swear you can see stars when you close your eyes.

“Scully, look at me,” he requests, rotating his hips with every upward stroke. With effort, you look down and see pure animalistic lust looking back at you. He wants to see you come and you know it and you’re so, so, so fucking close it’s all you can think about. You can feel his cock plunging into you, he’s so thick and swollen you swear to god you can feel every ridge and vein as he fucks you. His fingers are swirling and pinching your clit and you feel like your sex has a magnet and he’s the negative end your positive end is intrinsically drawn to but yet you feel like you can never possibly be close enough to him. He’s still working your breasts with his free hand and you feel like you’ve never had so many places on your body feeling so much pleasure at once and it’s overwhelming. But then you really see the way he’s looking at you, the adoration in his eyes, and then overwhelming is exactly what it is.

And you’re coming.

Hard.

You feel like your whole body is experiencing riptides of pleasure originating at the point you both meet and rippling through every cell of your body. You’re quivering, you’re shaking, you’re pulsing, you’re orgasming so hard you can’t even hear anything.

You see as much as you feel Mulder come with you. His eyes widen as his jaw drops sensually. He’s still pumping into you, at a rapid pace and you can feel his come spurting into you and being pulled down with his thrusts, spilling out of you and coating his cock.

When the aftershocks are done, you collapse forward, still with him inside of you, and bury your head into the crook of his neck, trying your best to steady your breathing. “Wow,” you gasp against his skin.

You feel his hands come up and stroke your spine lovingly and your whole body rises and falls with his breaths and your own until they sync up and slow. “I stand by what I said earlier,” he murmured tiredly.

“Hmm?” she replied in kind.

“You’re really good at that,” he chuckled, hugging her close to his sweaty body.

She placed a kiss to his shoulder and nuzzled against him. “You should see what I can do in a bed.”

#gaycrouton #my fanfiction #msr #mulder #scully #smut #x files fanfiction #x files #xf

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royal-writer · 5 years ago

Text

Love Her Softly

hnnngg i’m mcfuckin falling asleep but you get the point i guess

softness =/= weakness

She was a vision of the most serene beauty and generosity. A glowing smile to go with her shining complexion. He could see the brightness of appreciation and warm in the man’s face, looking upon her. He could see the echoes of pain in her own; the tiredness, the way she stood rigid to pretend as though her limbs were not sore from the battle hard fought. Yet she still held tender to the man’s hand; still insisted on wrapping the gentleman’s fingers around the small satchel of her coin she placed in his palm.

There was no room in his heart to doubt. Essätha’s very existence was the traveling sun, breaking through clouds to bring light to the earth. She gave him the infinite hope of tomorrow. If she could live and breathe and fight through the hardest days, so could he. If surviving the worst of humiliation and agony life had to offer through hate and war meant waking to another day to see her smile, he’d put up the hardest fight possible. Anything, if only to have a moment to agonizingly pray she would allow him to hold her even so he could feel whole and soak his fondness in her autumn skin. Just to see her be was enough to change his world and make him see it from a perspective of beauty.

It brought him equal parts joy and fear then, to think that just a passing glance or word she said could make someone fall in love with her. Amon had no doubt it was possible. She was captivating. Her smile, her laugh, the way her nose wrinkled when she quirked her mouth deep in thought, how her eyes were like the rays of sunflower in dappled lighting. If the Gods had an image of perfection; they had made it, and placed the most blessed soul of thoughtfulness and love to reside inside of her.

Essie was profoundly easy to adore. She made it effortless. It was easy, when you saw the purity of her actions, and not feel touched just to be in her presence.

She patted the man’s hand who, begrudgingly, accepted the currency, and moved on to speak to one of the adjacent fellows to him in an equally polite voice and mesmerizing gesture of hands. They appeared rather shy and taken aback by her. The nobleman was understanding how they had so much trouble keeping eye contact. It was like looking directly at the sun when staring at her; blinding, radiant, alluring.

A snort to his left escaped a townsman with crossed arms. They elbowed the individual on their other side, speaking in a hushed tone: “Ever seen a woman hold a man’s hand like that?”

“Oh yeah. When they’re single, and not such bitter nuisances,” the later man chuckled.

Glowering, Amon slide his weary gaze upon the duo.

“None too wise is she?” the former snickered. “She’s got a lot o’ heart, I’ll give her that. Too much though. The weak one’s suffer the most. She’ll never last.”

He unclenched his jaw, and sharply cleared his throat to capture the twosomes attention. They whipped their heads towards, splotches of flushed markings creeping up on one’s face with embarrassment upon being overheard.

“Miss Meduza is far more insightful and compassionate than either of you two give her credit for,” Amon crisply informed them with a narrow-eyed gaze. “If either of you had half as much foresight, you’d see how much strength it takes for her to be so kind and selfless. It is her spirit and tenacity and makes her so brave. She is strong because she is willing to be soft. Nothing about her should ever be described as weak.”

“That’s a righteous sentiment,” the former grumbled, clearly unconvinced. “But bein’ sweet isn’t goin’ to win her anything. Not in this world, anyway.”

“Nothin but heartache, at least,” the later murmured with what sounded sympathetic.

Such lowly, rancorous individuals would never understand. They’d never see behind their pessimism and anger at the world that some people could be made of starlight; whose souls would not be beaten and twisted to as nasty and vindictive as the rest of the world. They would never be able to appreciate a woman of such grace, and Amon truly pitied any partner these sort ever fell into. They would never be truly loved and appreciated; always nagged, viewed for their faults, seen as ‘the best they could do’. They were people who could never be happy.

While they could blissfully live ignorant, he was not going to let precious moments be spent lonely and jaded. He was going to walk right into that luminous sun and bathe in the unspoiled pools of streaming light. He wanted the true strength and power of a woman true to herself and her beliefs than he wanted anything else. No lies. No fantasy smiles. Something real, and tangible. Someone who knew the world could be cold, and cruel, and still fought tooth and nail for the right things; for justice, for the rights of others, for joy, and for the possibility of a better future.

Essätha was all that and more.

Ignoring the disgruntled staring and uncomfortable thinness of the air that suffocated all happiness in their realm, Amon pardoned himself with barely an uttered excuse. He was not going to waste his breath on people who could not see halos and the divinity of angel wings on people who sacrificed and were beat down time and time again, to rise up and still offer a hand. The admiration he had for her, still being able to smile, after all they’d seen; after what she had to live through, after all the fights they’d barely crawled away from, she was truly someone special.

As she gestured with her hands in animated motions, Essätha’s eyes tracked sideways to the movement of his approach. Her expression lit up with a brilliant smile that she could not erase as she almost dreamily tried to finish what she was explaining to the man before her. Every so often her glance shot right back towards him as she spoke. Maybe he should feel guilty for stealing her attention, but being her distraction had its own kind of thrill.

It should not be such an adrenaline rush to be noticed by her. He was a junkie, an addict, getting his fix every time she recognized him. Any time she noticed him. Dammit, he should be humiliated from wanting her attention; but he craved the shades of her smile and aura surrounding her like nothing else.

“Oh, that must have been something to behold, miss,” the man responded to her in earnest, his gaze turning respectfully. “Oh Amon! Gods bless you sir, thank you for your assistance as well.”

As the townsman extended a hand, the nobleman accepted it in a firm grasp, and generous shake.

“Sorry to have intruded on your conversation,” the Illiad replied.

“Think nothing of it!” The man shook his head. “You are just as much warranted to our gratitude and attention, my lord.”

A humorless dry laugh escaped him. He reached unconsciously for Essie’s hand, finding her fingers slipping into his seamlessly as she met him part of the way.

“It’s… just Amon,” he uncomfortably expressed; continuing on with far more charming warmth, “I’m afraid you’re wrong, there. There’s no one more deserving of your thanks than miss Essätha.”

A twinkle entered the man’s gaze, and he puffed up. “Oh I do say! I am surprised your friends to humbly offered to help fund to rebuild the barn.”

He arched a brow, casting a long glance in Essätha’s direction. Her cheeks were pink, and she refused to meet his gaze. Certainly this was the first time he heard they’d all pitched in any coin. And judging by her discomfort, he had a good feeling that the donation had entirely been out of her pocket.

“Oh, yes,” he smoothly responded, digging into his coin purse. “I had forgotten to add my benefits to the pool. My apologies.”

“M’lord-” Essätha exhaled, tugging on his arm.

He passed her a wink, and watched the color in her face grow deeper before he turned back to place some of his own coin in the confused man’s hand.

“Most gracious, my lord! Thank you!”

“It’s just Master Amon now, thank you.”

As the man turned, showing his companion the added funds, the nobleman turned his sly glance upon the glowering lady at his side, her face blushed so deeply it made her ears pinkish too.

“Why did you do that?”

He smirked at her horrified tone. “Why do we do anything?” he countered, “Or moreover: why did you do it first?”

She jumped slightly, turning her gaze away. Her nose was scrunched up a little like it did when she was frustrated about something.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she mumbled.

“No. But it feels like the right thing to do. If you can show a good example, why can’t I follow?”

Her teeth worried on her lower lip. The flex of her fingers worked against his grip. He waited for her to find the words to say; or for the combative nature to show itself. It surprised him when she couldn’t muster up something to fend off his praise with, so he took it a step further, squeezing her hand delicately.

“You didn’t need prove your heroics; or how much you care, anymore to these people once the job was done,” he responded. “You are a one-of-a-kind woman, Essie. Not many people have a heart a fraction of a size of yours. You really do aspire others to do better, to be kinder, to listen more, and to show that strength is not just muscle. That strength can come in all forms of will and character.”

Dumbfounded, she gawked at him with a mild haze of shock. She ducked her head aside shyly, rather than face him as he turned the spotlight directly on her.

Was it possible to revere her more, seeing her tongue-tied and shy?

As another townsfolk reached for his hand, babbling a high-speed rush of thankful words, he was forced to tear his gaze away from Essätha’s sheepish smile.

But he felt embrace of her hand in his increase suddenly, and it was one of the best ‘thank you’s he’d ever felt in his life.

#royal writes #essamon ship #Essie rw #amon illiad

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eileniessa · 7 years ago

Note

hello, you should do 2 for the prompt thing maybe 👀

(Witcher Fic) Never Enough

Disclaimer

This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the books by Andrzej Sapkowski and the game series by CD Projekt Red. I do not claim ownership to any of these characters and have written this fan fiction for entertainment, not financial gain.

Prompt: Yennas (Tumblr): hello, you should do 2 for the prompt thing maybe

Send me a ship and one of these and I’ll write a mini fic.

(2) things you said through your teeth

Quote: “When you stop expecting people to be perfect, you can like them for who they are.”

― Donald Miller, A Million Miles in a Thousand Years: What I Learned While Editing My Life

AO3FN

The sun was relentless in its attack, piercing through his heavy eyelids determinately. The assault on his sensitive eyes stirred his body and his consciousness prowled out from the darkness. Slowly, it reclaimed control of its mutated vessel, muscles awakening from their hazy slumber. Geralt’s eyes twitched beneath their shutters, his sight held prisoner. Ages passed before they were released, and with labored movements, his eyes opened.

Even with the curtains drawn, sunlight spread across the bedroom floor and crawled up the walls and furniture. He gazed up at the smooth, white ceiling, the surface blinding him with a dazzling light. Unnatural heat trailed behind it, making him feel uncomfortable in his wet, sticky skin. Geralt tried to brush off the blanket covering his body, desperate to escape from the heat, his fingers rubbing against the soaked material. It was rough to touch and lay heavily against his body, constricting his chest and arms painfully. The Witcher sighed and furrowed his brow, he knew it was stupid to become agitated by such a small inconvenience, but he didn’t care. He felt like being intolerable today.

He turned away from the mesmerizing light, squinting at the blurry shapes that moved around him, mist floating in glass statues. As the smoke began to settle, the objects gained new dimensions and intricate details replaced harsh lines and edges. The canvas came to life before him, a picture of a happy ending too good to be true, yet…one so familiar to him.

Geralt’s arms felt like stone as he placed his palms flat against the bed, his coarse fingers catching on the soft mattress covering. The muscles in his stomach tightened as his back lifted. His head was enveloped by the pillow as the Witcher fell back, pain bursting across his chest as though his lungs and heart had simultaneously exploded. He shouted and screwed up his eyes, jagged nails clawing at the bedding. Flashes of three metallic teeth filled the darkness. Smoke and screams. Tears. His heart pounded ferociously against his rib-cage. Agony bored into every muscle and bone in his chest, and then it stopped. Dulled to nothing more than a warm sensation one feels after a hot meal.

He gasped for air, sputtering like a beached drowner. His body was shaking, small vibrations rippling through the bed. Geralt’s arm twitched like a dead snake as he tried to move it and his throat constricted. Sweat rolled down his face dripping off his chin and getting into his eyes.

Geralt.

At first, he thought he’d imagined it, thinking that his deluded mind was weaving a chimerical reality around him, turning the gentle wind into her enthralling voice. It was so soft and quiet, a quality he’d scarcely ever heard in her voice before, and it cut into him like a knife. With no pain to dominate his senses, he knew it was real. His heart shriveled.

The pain washed out of the Witcher’s face as he relaxed his facial muscles. Her hand was placed tenderly on his chest when he opened his eyes, fingers spread wide and pressed lightly over the blood and sweat soaked bandage encasing his torso. Wisps of feathery azure light drifted through her fingers and floated along his chest like fragile seeds, planting themselves on his body before dying away. Her slightly elevated palm was glowing intensely and he could see the bones sticking up through the skin on the back of her small hand which was shuddering infinitesimally.

“Yen…” Geralt croaked, but there was no reply. His breath caught in his throat, the Witcher looked up.

Her hair shimmered with the light of a thousand stars, the luminous spell reflecting off her pale and flawless skin and casting her figure into ethereality. Only a sliver of her face had been revealed to his eager eyes, a veil of wild hair shielding her. For minutes he gazed upon her, but not once did her eyes follow him. It felt as though there were a million miles between them.

Strands of Yennefer’s hair tickled his exposed skin as she leaned over him, bare knees touching the edge of their bed. Cautiously, Geralt’s hand inched down the sheets. He could feel the indentation in the mattress and gently covered her free hand with his own. The bedding rose slightly. Her skin was cold to touch despite the heat of the morning, and he brushed his thumb against it. Yennefer sighed under her breath, but the sound was promptly cut off. Their hands came apart, then, she pulled away completely, her light fading. He remained motionless as she glided away, heavy silence pressing against his shoulders. Yennefer’s huddled shadow stretched across the bed, arms withdrawn and her face a mystery. Geralt was too afraid to speak. He knew what the next few moments could cost him, and the odds were set against him. The atmosphere remained undisturbed for what felt like a lifetime.

“What were you thinking?” sharp words cleaved through the tension.

Geralt was caught off guard, her question filtering through his mind before he’d had a chance to think. “I…Yen-”

Her hair writhed like snakes as she whirled around to face him. “Answer me!”

Any man with an ounce of common sense would cower under the Sorceress’ intense glare, just as Geralt did. One look at her narrowed violet eyes and quivering lips was all the Witcher needed to measure the intensity of her words. He’d witnessed the boundless fury that was contained within her, but never before had he looked it straight in the eye. Static pricked at his skin and he felt as though her stare was suffocating him. To deny her was a death sentence, but Geralt had no answer to give. And she knew it.

Yennefer laughed down at him, coldness edged into her tone, cruelly twisting the voice he adored. “Poor Witcher, so inward looking that he doesn’t understand what he’s done. How foolish of me to think otherwise.”

Geralt couldn’t recall the last time he’d felt so hopeless. He’d wandered into the middle of a nightmare, stranded in an unfamiliar setting where he couldn’t tell the sun from the moon. The memory of her body curled up against him was imprinted on his skin, lilac and gooseberries lingering from her touch. The look on her face when they’d kissed goodbye, how could it have turned into this? Maybe he was still dreaming.

“Yen, please…” he begged, feebly. Geralt knew it was pathetic, but he hoped it could buy some time. He’d weather her fury if it provided even the smallest chance for him to see into the eye of the storm. In there, he’d see what she was trying to hide.

The Witcher’s hair stood on end as Yennefer’s pendant pulsed violently, shaking against her neck. “Don’t you dare plead, Witcher - pathetic! You shan’t find any sympathy here, mark my words,” she hissed.

Geralt shrunk into the bed pressed down by her intense stare. It felt as though she was staring straight down into his soul, assessing what he could not. When she turned away, he felt it tare. The thought of what he might have done plagued his sanity and mercilessly conjured unspeakable images before him. Raised voices between them was an occasion not out of the ordinary, but what was happening now felt surreal. It was as though he had woken up in the middle of a storm, with no memory of seeing it approach and no idea of when it might pass. Or if it would.

The unpredictability of this particular storm left the Witcher stunned. He was watching a phenomenon, his scraps of knowledge inadequate to provide him with a realistic chance of comprehending it. Yennefer remained silent, only the slight rise and fall of her shoulders informing him that the world was still moving. The sleeves of her dressing gown were bundled up above her elbows, the gown tight under her arms as thin hands tightly clutched the material. On the ground her shadow danced, shivering in the warm breeze.

Shocks of heat brushed across his chest when he gradually slid his legs over the edge of the bed and raised his upper body. The carpet absorbed the sound of his feet hitting the floor, the fabric springing between his toes like blades of grass. Geralt gripped the side of the bed to steady himself, dizziness confusing his senses. His knuckles whitened when he saw bandages snaking down his legs. Gingerly, he tested his heavily wrapped foot, gradually applying pressure. It burned like coal, but the pain was bearable. Gritting his teeth, Geralt stood and without warning the intensity increased tenfold.

With his eyes screwed shut, the Witcher would never know how Yennefer caught him before he hit the ground. His left leg buckled under the pain and he fell against her body. Arms wrapped around his torso, she managed to impede his decent so that his knee only gently touched the ground. However, the minor impact still made him grunt as pain shot up his leg like a streak of fire, burning his nerves. Yennefer cursed in his ear. One of her arms slid to his waist as she nestled against his side, bearing some of his weight on her shoulders. Geralt felt her shaking under the burden as she helped him to his feet. He tried to take as much of his weight as possible, but kept leaning against her, instinctively recoiling from the pain. The seconds it took to reach the bed were agonizingly slow, Yennefer’s stifled moans resonating in his hears.

Sweat gleamed on her face when she withdrew her arms, chest unsteadily rising and falling. She sat down at the end of the bed, fingers skating over his foot. There was a crimson rose was sprouting there, growing across the bandage and puncturing his legs with thorns. The Sorceress closed her hands around the wound and furrowed her brow. Her hair rippled as there was a blinding flash that left spots in front of Geralt’s eyes and the pain receded to a dull throb. Quickly, he looked up, but her head was already turned away, a hand raised to her face.

There was stifling silence. Geralt wished for something, anything, to break the tension. When had he last felt so lost in her presence? “Thank you, Yen,” he said quietly. At once, he realised he’d made a fatal error.

“I don’t want your thanks, Geralt, I don’t need it. All that I’ve asked for, is your honesty. Why, Geralt?” He would have preferred it if she’d shouted. Anything would be better than hearing her so…broken. When Yennefer stood up he tensed, as though fearing she might shatter. She made an indistinguishable sound. “I’ll never be enough for you.” In a heartbeat, she was gone.

The room chilled as the door swung shut. Her heartbeat echoed through the walls as she drifted away, ghostly pale light filling the empty armchair beside their bed. Small indentations still marked the cushions, and a blanket was draped over one of the wooden arms, pooling onto the floor. Geralt wondered how long Yennefer had been sitting there. Dark circles hung under her eyes when he saw her face up-close. He hadn’t seen them there in a long time, so why had they reappeared? How badly had he messed up?

A single, curled strand of her hair was caught within a crack in the wood. Delicately, he plucked it free. It coiled on his palm and twisted around his fingers as he held it. He admired how it retained its vivid colour, and not withered like a dying rose. Geralt closed his hand around it. The life had drained from her body as she looked at him, a husk staring through her dull eyes. It reminded him of Avalon; the look he saw in her eyes as their life burned to the ground, it was the same.

Geralt rested his head on his shaking fists. Hoofs clattered outside the balcony, he didn’t need any inhuman senses to know that Yennefer had fled. Corvo Bianco was too small for the both of them, passing through the gates was the only way to ensure that she escaped him. What darkness had she seen in his soul that forced her to leave… Yennefer had barely been able to look at him…had she seen a monster inside him?

Geralt wished for the pain to return, something to distract him from the torment of what he might have done. He tried to think, blocking out the eerie silence as he went back in time. A contract, the beginning scene. Hand delivered to him on the steps of Corvo Bianco. Coronata Vineyard, located on the east side of the Sansretour river, needed a professional. Archespores were rapidly spreading across their fields, and hundreds of workers were at risk while several had already succumb to their presence. The Witcher had accepted without hesitation, out of professional and personal interest. Corvo Bianco was not far from the infestation and Geralt has heard several incidents that indicated Archespore bulbs could find their way across running water. Yennefer often used to walk the vineyards…

He took a day to prepare, practicing his combat by day and brewing potions and oils by night. Early the next morning, the shroud of night still cloaking the light of the sun, Geralt rose from the bed. He’d been more than a little surprised when someone grabbed his hand, and Yennefer pulled him down on top of her. She threatened him with the consequences of not returning within two days and sent him away with a kiss.

The ride was short and pleasant, the heat of the day tempered by the receding darkness. Several workers greeted him by Coronata’s gates and hurried him to the main house. A few words were exchanged before the Witcher unsheathed his silver blade and disappeared into the vineyards. The darkness had vanished now and shadows painted the earth. As the sun roasted his leather armour, Geralt set to work. By midday, most of the land had been cleared and workers were returning to the fields to clean up the Witcher’s mess. Everything had gone smoothly, he was tired, yes, but the small cuts and burns on his arms were already beginning to heal. But fate was a cruel Mistress.

Geralt headed deeper into the vines, following the Archespores’ destruction as he neared the birthplace of the infestation. Within minutes, thick stems wept on the earth, foul-smelling ooze snaking amongst the vines. The Witcher wiped his blade on an Archespore leaf, crinkling his nose at the pungent odor. Prominent veins throbbed in his arms, potions mixing with his mutated blood, storing the pain of battle for another time. Sweat dripping from his brow, Geralt steadily made his way back through the vineyards, but he was stopped after several steps.

The Witcher’s instinct saved him by the skin of his teeth. Reverberations shot up his legs as an Archespore sprang from the earth, striking with its maw before its stalk had fully surfaced. The attack was too quick for a human mind to process, but in combat, a Witcher doesn’t need to think. The creature screeched as its maw collided with Geralt’s shield which shattered and fizzled away. The Witcher’s eyes narrowed. This Archespore was different, black vines clutched its stem and its leaves were tinted obsidian. He’d never faced such a creature alone, and even with Eskel by his side, their battle was still evident on his skin. This contract had just become unexpectedly harder. Now, there was more at stake and the odds had been tipped against him. And that was where the story ended. Hours, days, or even weeks ago. But even with the story told, Geralt was no closer to understanding it.

How had that contract landed him here? Life at Corvo Bianco, domesticity with Yennefer, It was beyond perfect and beyond what he dreamed was possible. They’d defied everything to get here, to forge a favorable destiny. Geralt doubted he’d ever return to the path, now that he was here, well, there was just no going back. But as happy as he was, old habits die hard. He had to learn how to live a normal life, to abandon the extraordinary for the mundane, they both did, and it was going to take years of practice. Until that day arrived, Geralt would cling to what was familiar. Once in a blue moon, he’d take out his silver sword, and Yennefer had never tried to stop him. No words were exchanged between them, it wasn’t necessary. Geralt knew she would prefer never to see his Witcher gear again, and he too hoped that day would come, but she possessed unappreciated patience. Yennefer would give him time. She understood.

And that’s why none of this made any sense.

Geralt rested in bed for hours. Weighed down by Yennefer’s words, he couldn’t muster the strength to rise, despite how painful it was to sit there alone. A strand of raven hair was still twisted around his fingers, his skin paling where it dug into his flesh. The dull pain reminded him that this was a living nightmare. His body ached as the magic began to thin and it demanded him to rest, but the thought was unbearable, preposterous even. How could he sleep now… Yennefer was out there, somewhere, and she was in immeasurable pain.

Shoulders stooped and uneven, neck curved as her head sank, body trembling and her voice no more than a whisper as she spoke; I’ll never be enough for you… The demon had returned, and the desire to reach out and hold her, never to let go again, consumed him. Acceptance, a concept that united them as much as it pushed them apart. Geralt thought that they’d finally come to terms with it, but perhaps he’d been wrong.

When he was with Yennefer and Ciri, the Witcher forgot who he was. They had touched his life like angels, curing his petrified heart. Their love gave him life, and their presence taught him that a Witcher’s heart can beat for another. He had learned to accept that he could feel more than the monster he was created to be, just as he thought Yennefer had come to accept that she was loved. That she had a family of their own making.

Just outside the bedroom door hung a painting. To the unknowing eye, there was nothing special about it. It was a fine piece of art, a family, a happy family, together amongst luscious vines. Yet, a picture can paint a thousand words and this one depicted a tale. A story so outrageous and unbelievable that one knew it had to be true, for the mind could not conceive of such fantasy. It was not just a painting of any old family and of any wild tale, but a commendation of his life and the two most important pieces of it. The canvas outside his door reminded Geralt that everything he’d ever suffered had been worth it. His family had found peace. But not all their demons had gone.

Doubt had wormed its way back into their life. Even with the certainty that magic was not what bound them together, Geralt feared that Yennefer had yet to accept its replacement. Was he to blame? Could he have become blinded by an illusion of tranquility, neither seeing nor sensing the attention that Yennefer would never demand of him nor acknowledge that she needed. Had he ever told her how much he loved her… Did she not know… Why, Geralt? could she think this whole life was a lie?

There were footsteps on the stairs and across the landing. A tray appeared in the doorway, steam rising from the polished wood and a long trail of cloth hanging beneath it. Geralt sighed, he knew it was too good to be true.

“It’s good to see you awake, Master Geralt. You’ve had us all rather worried,” said Marlene. The frail old woman padded across the room, withered hands lowering the breakfast tray onto the bed.

Geralt’s mouth watered, his stomach growling with unexpected anticipation. He was famished. “Thank you, Marlene,” he said, gouging his eyes on the bountiful food. Hunks of cheese, crusty bread and a thick bowl of soup that was unmistakably the cooks most famous and well-guarded recipe.

She smiled at him, it reminded Geralt of Nenneke. “I’m glad to help sir, more than I can say.”

Marlene pottered around the room as he ate, opening the curtains and placing a pitcher of water on the bedside table, ice bobbing on the surface. Without being prompted, she explained what had transpired since his last memory of the vineyard. When the Witcher had not returned to collect his prize, the Lord sent his workers into the field to search for Toussaint’s hero. Following the trail of destruction and the pungent smell of rotten fruit and some indescribable stench, several men found him collapsed on the ground. His body was coated from head to toe in thick, viscous fluid which was stained in place by patches of blood. Horses trampled some of the surviving vines as Geralt’s body was raised into the back of a cart and wheeled off to Corvo Bianco as fast as the workers would dare to go. They wiped away the slimy cocoon around him and pressed wet cloth against his bleeding wounds while praying to the Gods for a safe journey.

The Witcher’s face had been as pale as a corpse when the wagon rolled through Corvo Bianco’s gates. Marlene had watched from the doorway as Yennefer ran across the courtyard. She coated her dress in blood and sweat as she leaned over him, pressing her hands over his heart. A minute passed in mournful silence as the Sorceress knelt beside him in the wagon, her eyes closed and her hands trembling. The men stood like sentinels around her, and when she pulled away they came to life. They followed the Mistress into the house, carrying Geralt on their shoulders. Several stayed in the room with her as she tended to the Witcher and hours passed before the door opened.

His wounds clean and bandaged, the men helped moved the Witcher upstairs and watched anxiously as Yennefer followed them, her skin pale as snow and her movements slow and heavy. After they had thanked the men, Marlene and Basil carefully entered the bedroom and saw Yennefer collapsed in a chair, asleep. They stayed until she woke late in the afternoon, and nothing that either of them could say or do could part her from Geralt’s side. Over the past three days they brought her food and drinks, the former of which she barely touched, and not once in that time did they find her asleep again. While Geralt wandered, lost, in the dark confines of his mind, Yennefer kept vigil.

But the second he was awake…she had gone, relieved of her duties. Yennefer had weathered out the worst of the storm and fled at the sight of first light, leaving him alone and confused, stranded in unfamiliar water. When Marlene finished changing the sheets, despite Geralt’s assurance that she needn’t trouble herself, she wandered off downstairs. The Witcher stared at his distorted reflection in the soup spoon hovering over the almost empty bowl. Even with the missing days in hand, he still couldn’t finish the puzzle. Either he was being stupid or there was something else he needed to find. Geralt slowly scraped the bottom of the bowl, tilting it to one side to gather that last few spoonfuls. He thought about sending a letter to Ciri, the stables housed a handful of magical kestrels, courtesy of Yennefer, that could deliver it to Vizima within days, but decided against it. He wasn’t sure that it would be wise to involve her, Geralt knew that Yennefer strongly disliked having Ciri in the crossfire, or anywhere near it, and there was no room for mistakes. He’d have to figure this out by himself if he stood any chance of fixing things with Yennefer when - if - she returned.

The Witcher had just finished the last of the soup when Marlene returned and placed several bottles on the bed. His potions. “Marlene, where did you get these?” he asked, picking up the smallest bottle; swallow.

“Lady Yennefer gave them to me before she left,” the cook replied over her shoulder.

Geralt furrowed his brow, staring at Marlene’ back as she watered the flowers that sat upon Yennefer’s vanity. The vase they rested in had cost him a fortune, but it was a purchase he couldn’t afford to pass up. Black smoke was encased within the glass, creating swirling patterns that crept up the sides and clouded the vase’s transparency. It was one of the first things Geralt had personally brought to place inside his new home, and of course, there was only one flower he could allow to reside in it. Yennefer had enchanted the lilacs he gifted her, blessing them with longevity and adding a touch of bitterness to their scent. It was as though a piece of her always lingered in the room, her life force bound to the flower she had immortalized. Today the lilacs seemed dulled in colour, flowers hanging low over the edge of the vase, their stems too weak to carry the burden. Geralt didn’t know what he’d do if they wilted, or if so much as a petal fell loose.

“She’ll come back, sir.” Geralt looked down at his hands, ashamed to be the source of Marlene’s sympathy; it was hard to believe that he deserved it.

When monsters prey on the innocent, paving the cobblestone red, one cannot blame the weapon for causing the killing blow, nor the hand that caused it. The culprit lies out of sight, in the hearts and heads of men. The bird holds no grudges against the mouse, but instinct, a phenomenon born of nature, drives it to kill. It does not think upon its right to kill nor feels that the mouse deserves to die. But in men, there lies a sense of entitlement. When a bandit slices the throat of a weary traveler or smacks his wife across the face, it is not instinct that guides his hand, but the thought that he has the right to do so, and the feeling that they deserve it. Geralt had seen the consequences of his actions but he cared not how it had come to pass. All he feared to know, was why.

The Witcher didn’t reply. He couldn’t bring himself to voice his disagreement, nor would he have been able to find the words to do so. Besides, surely she had seen what he’d done.

“Please, Master Geralt, listen to me.” He obeyed almost instinctively, understanding the demand without thought. Curiosity and surprise managed to surface in his consciousness. In the months she had been here, he could not once remember Marlene demanding anything of him. While he knew she was of noble birth, it seemed out of character to hear her do so now.

Geralt nodded for her to continue and Marlene moved closer to the bed. “I know not why Lady Yennefer left, but she will return and you cannot believe otherwise. However angry or upset she was, it didn’t stop her from thinking of you first.”

Geralt lost count of how many days had passed since Yennefer had departed on heated words. His existence had become barren, deprived of any desirable meaning as each long and agonizing day was consumed by his body’s primitive needs. Minutes stretched into hours, and hours washed into days until he neither knew nor cared for the movement of the calendar. The Witcher had almost forgotten about this lonely pastime, the emptiness that arose within him during times of painful rest filled by the presence of family and friends. Marlene and Basil visited when they could, but it simply wasn’t the same. He enjoyed their company and was appreciative of their friendship and selflessness, but he could not lose himself in their idle chit-chat and remained bound to his frustration and pain. Perhaps he’d taken those close to him for granted, but he hoped it wasn’t too late to make amends.

When he wasn’t sleeping or moping in bed, Geralt sat on the balcony outside their bedroom window under the shade, unable to bear the heat that stuck under his bandage when in direct sunlight. He looked out over the vineyard, pointlessly watching for any signs of her return, be that a letter, a messenger, or the real thing itself. But nothing came, not a word.

Over time, sketching and reading began to fail in their duties and ‘what ifs’ crawled through his defenses. He began to have nightmares about the ways things ended… Glistening eyes and tightly pressed lips. It was worse than seeing her angry, something unspeakable, and to think that he was the cause…incomprehensible. The face she had worn that night was one that Geralt rarely saw and he was eternally grateful for that. Gone were Yennefer’s refined emotions, replaced instead by a crude form that had passed through her body untouched by ingrained habits and insecurities. Her mask had slid from her face completely, revealing something he sorrowfully recognized. A punctured heart.

An image of crimson blossoms sprouting on black and white cloth and circling around a withering lilac rose into the Witcher’s mind. It was a sight he could not banish, his third eye fixated on the spectacle. Whatever blow he’d struck would take a long time to heal though he was doubtful it ever would. They’d have yet another scar marring their relationship, perhaps one too many this time. His thoughts lured into dangerous territory, Geralt carefully got out of bed and hobbled to an armchair by the balcony. His swords and crossbow were resting atop a wooden table beside him and he reached for whichever was closest, not bothering to look. Picking up a ragged piece of cloth that was draped over the chair, the Witcher looked down at his trusty companion and began its pointless maintenance. Scrupulously, he triple checked the ranged weapon’s mechanisms, wishing he had some oil at hand. For hours he rubbed the wood gently, removing imaginary splinters on every inch of the crossbow. Geralt stopped only when the excessive friction began to warm his hands.

Sighing, he moved onto the finishing step, the cloth passing easily over the metallic badge as his fingers traced the familiar coat of Rivia. He’d not seen Queen Meve since the bizarre series of events that resulted in his knighthood after the battle for the Bridge on the Yaruga, nor had he been to the city since the riot. His memories of the event were hazy and confused and he remembered almost nothing after he finally met his fate at the end of three pointy teeth. To him, it felt like a story from another life, but he knew Yennefer still dreamt about it and more than once he’d been awoken by the sound of his name being screamed into the night. They were nights he wished to forget, Geralt couldn’t imagine what it would be like to watch Yennefer slowly die…

He froze, his fingers pressed against the cool metal badge. Had his hands not been preoccupied, he would have dropped his head in them. How could he have been so blind?

Several more nameless days passed, each one more dull and exhausting than before. The Witcher was tired of sitting around and being able to do nothing besides wait and worry, but he knew it was a torment he had to endure. Caught again in the clutches of restless slumber, Geralt wandered through Corvo Bianco’s garden, admiring the moonlit haven. He’d never seen flowers as vivid and ornate as those that graced Toussaint’s soil. So used to the view of staggering mountains and thick woodland, it had taken him some time to truly appreciate this new form of beauty, and all its shapes and colours.

He moved to the center of the garden and under the wooden canopy that was burden with trails and trails of vines and creeping flowers. It was one of Yennefer’s favourite places to sit, a shaded harborage from which one could gaze upon the garden and absorb all the colour it presented. Tonight, however, the Witcher could not bask in its intensity. He sat down heavily on the bench, sticking to the left side, his unspoken position when they were here together. As they sat side by side, arms brushing, Geralt could hardly keep his eyes off her. The sight of her fair skin, raven hair and very particular colour choice always made him smile when they were in this place. It was such a strange and wonderful contrast, Yennefer sitting amongst a rainbow of flowers. Leaning forward in his seat, hanging his head, Geralt held the image in his mind. After a long time, he began to smell lilac and gooseberries. He tensed when a heartbeat followed.

He didn’t move a muscle, afraid that even the slightest movement might startle her and scare her away. Geralt waited with a patience he hadn’t known he possessed, the sound of her heart was steady now, he knew she was watching him. Her smell was intoxicating, tickling his senses as she held back, torturing him for an age until the scent became stronger, completely engulfing him.

Yennefer’s heels went silent as she slid onto the bench, hugging the right side as an invisible force separated them. Even now, with her heat sending shivers up his spine, the gap between them felt unbreachable. Minutes passed before Geralt finally gave into temptation and indulged his eyes. Carefully, he turned his head and rolled his eyes to look upon her face, or that which was not hidden from him. Small pulses of violet light illuminated her skin as she rubbed her star pendant, a sign that made Geralt’s heart race. He couldn’t bear to wait another second.

“You were right, Yen…I was selfish… It should never have taken me so long to understand.” Yennefer’s fingers stilled, the diamonds fading so that only his unnatural vision allowed him to watch her. Her hands were curled over the edge of the bench, gripping the wood like a roosting bird, anchoring her. He hoped that the breeze would not carry her fragile body away so soon. “Yen, I’m sorry…” slowly his hand stalked closer as he whispered into the silence. With precise movements, he closed the gap between them and gently touched her hand. However small the gesture was, he took it as a good sign when Yennefer didn’t pull away. Until he realized she hadn’t reacted at all.

With a single touch he’d petrified her, too repulsive a creation to even dream about being by her side. For the first time since he’d woken up to this nightmare, Geralt thought this might all be for the best. Perhaps his mistake had proven that he couldn’t give Yennefer what she wanted - what she needed - even if he spent a lifetime trying. The Witcher closed his eyes and pictured the mesmerizing smile she’d greeted him with at the beginning of their new life. At least he still had Ciri… Geralt started to draw his hand away.

When he opened his eyes she was staring at him, her face fully turned towards him. Geralt held his breath. Dark circles still hung beneath her eyes and he wondered guiltily whether she’d slept at all since they last saw each other. He knew the Sorceress had other methods to sustain herself, however damaging they had proved to be in the past. Yennefer said nothing as their eyes locked and the night passed undisturbed. They’d spent hours together before, with no words shared between, but this was not the comfortable silence he’d grown to love. Now it felt only like a void between them, filling him with a sense of dread that the silence remained because neither had a worthwhile thing to say, or ever would again.

The Witcher had spent a lifetime staring down death, refusing to give into its hypnotic gaze, but even the master of his morality could not hold as much power in his eyes as the woman sitting on the bench beside him. Geralt felt trapped within their swirling depths as his soul was pulled from his chest. Despite the danger he knew they contained he never wanted to look away, and lay helplessly before her. His poor soul was so transfixed that his body had gone almost completely numb. He didn’t know how long Yennefer had been holding his hand and he was too scared to look down in case his own body was playing tricks on him.

“Geralt…” he felt a slight pressure being applied to his fingers and without his conscious consent, his thumb gently stroked the back of her hand. Perhaps this was real after all, though when she gave a small ghost of a smile it seemed too good to be true. Yennefer looked down just for a second. “Geralt…I’m sorry.”

The Witcher almost pinched himself. He’d lost count of how often this scenario had played out in his head, and not once had it ever included those words coming from her mouth. A solution to his problems had just been placed at his feet, ready for the taking. But despite what was on the line, it was an offer Geralt knew he couldn’t take.

“Don’t be, Yen, I don’t deserve it. You were right, I’m the one who needs to apologise.”

Yennefer was shaking her head before he’d finished speaking, stars dancing amongst her thick curls as the moonlight graced their meeting. “No Geralt, I overreacted and left you alone when you needed me. If our roles were reversed, you would have stayed.”

He felt his heart plummet when she looked away, turning her head to the side. Yennefer’s pendant began to glow, the magic seeping through her thin fingers as she held it with her free hand. Geralt felt once again that he was looking at a shadow, the same specter that had haunted him when Yennefer’s anger had been spent and her mask slipped. All that remained, was the vulnerability.

The Witcher slid across the bench and lifted Yennefer’s hand, placing it against his chest and holding it there. “I wouldn’t still be here if you’d left me, Yen,” he said quietly, speaking only when Yennefer finally raised up her head. “I know you watched over me until…” he hesitated. The words hanging on the tip of his tongue could be dangerous. It would probably only add to his problems, to hers too, but damn it. It needed to be said. “…Until you needed me more than I needed you.” Yennefer tensed, her hand going stiff in his grip. Her eyelids flickered and Geralt couldn’t tell if he’d struck a nerve with her or signed his own death sentence. He kept going before either of them had a chance to decide.

“When the Wild Hunt came to Kaer Morhen, you risked your life for Ciri, and when I saw you fall…” he trailed off, shaking his head. “I thought about how many times I’d put you through that. How many time I hadn’t thought about you first, because I was thinking only as a Witcher.” He took a deep breath, drained by his confession and the thought of what could happen next. Geralt looked up at the stars, repeating all the constellations he could think of in his head as he tried to ignore the cold breath of dread breathing down his neck. “I didn’t think about those I was leaving behind and… I made you doubt that I loved you, Yen.”

Still looking up at the sky, he watched her out of the corner of his eye. The Sorceress’ hand was burning into his chest, but he didn’t know if she’d accept the gift he offered. She was watching him closely, biting her lip, and he knew that his sense of dread hadn’t gone unnoticed. The stare of death would have more welcoming than the possibility of rejection that cast its dark shadow over all that Geralt could see. No matter which way he thought his story would go, there had always been the same destination. Without her, he’d never reach it. He didn’t want to let go.

“Nor do I, Geralt. I never could.” He felt his heartbeat quicken, beating against her hand. Yennefer’s lips were upturned in a sweet smile that made her eyes glow warmly, the signature her sincerity. Genuine affection, Geralt had lost hoped he’d ever witness it again. “We are both fools to have ever let this happen, doubt should never come between us,” she said softly. Yennefer’s hand gripped his shirt pulling him in, and the Witcher obeyed without hesitation. Her proximity made him weak; the closeness of her skin, the intoxicating smell of her body and perfume, the feeling of her breath stroking his skin, the melody of her heart singing him to paradise. He would have sacrificed a thousand lifetimes to enhance his senses for even a second so he could experience what it was like to be in heaven. To sense it all around him. “No matter what happens between us, Geralt, wherever the future may lead us, doubt will never be a part of it. I shan’t let it.”

He couldn’t be sure who’d leaned in first and he didn’t care to know. They kissed softly, calmly sealing the moment and closing their eyes to hold it in memory, every feeling and sensation. However long it lasted, it was over too soon. Geralt rested his forehead against hers, the pair exchanging smiles that the rest of the world would forever go without seeing. They were in their own little world, with only the stars as witnesses. This was home, he knew it in his bones. There was nowhere else for him outside this place and he would fight the gods should they try to part him from it.

“I love you, Yen.”

“I know, Geralt…I know.”

#witcher #witcher fanfiction #fanfiction #yennefer #geralt #geralt x yennefer #eileniessa #writing

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catastrophicideass · 7 years ago

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when Rowan rescues Aelin pt. 2

a/n: it would appear i got carried away and now will probably need another chapter before the fluff

part one is here

“Aelin,” the man before her murmured in the softest, most adoring voice she’d ever heard.

What a complete and utter fool.

He took of her mask with the utmost care. She watched his face go from enraged to worried but with loving eyes before abruptly falling with wild panic. Good. The demon in her seemed to enjoy that, relish in ripping that relief away from him.

“Aelin,” he whispered, “it’s me, Rowan.”

That name- Aelin. Was that what she was called? It did nothing to her, didn’t stir up a shred of recognition. Her name was the first thing she had forgotten.

Rowan. That name, however, did something odd. Made her feel an insistent but faint tug near her ribs. He seemed familiar- she was somehow expecting a scent of pine and snow from him even though all she caught was his blood and her filth- but then again, maybe he didn’t. She didn’t know. Couldn’t bring herself to remember.

Watching this unknown, strangle male with almost a detached interest, she didn’t notice tendrils creeping around her behind that mental wall, ghosting up her body leaving a trail of slickness behind.

Didn’t notice until leashes of darkness wound itself agonizingly tight – much tighter than before- around her hands, her legs, her eyes and down her throat until she was screaming, thrashing, flinging her broken body over and over like she had done a thousand times already.

Not to escape- no, she had given up any fool’s hope of that a century ago. She just wanted to stop seeing them- stop seeing someone’s bled out body on horrifically bloodied sheets; a cracked spine and paralyzed legs; a body tortured beyond recognition; death after death after death; black collars, rings, darkness, pain, everywhere until it was all she knew, until the overwhelming emotion of that was the only think that allowed her to break the surface of that suffocating abyss.

She had known she was going to die when she first came here. Was fully expecting it, embraced it even. The beast implanted in her had coiled that knowledge like a noose around her neck, letting her slowly choke on its poisonous tendrils, clawing away at her fire bit by bit until it- until she- was reduced to piles of broken bone, ripped skin and floating ash. She had begged; begged for death, begged for the speed and efficiency of the knife; begged for the people she loved to-

She didn’t know who they were anymore. Couldn’t remember their names or faces, they were nothing but blurred smudges.

She was forced into the present when she felt that light tug in her ribs. She peered through the tiny cracks in the wall between her and her body, trying to catch a glimpse of the male who had sparked the tiniest bit of removed curiosity.

She knew he had to be someone; Someone enough to wrench the smallest bit of emotion, of familiarity, of warmth, through the solid walls of the Valg when none of her own memories had been able to. No, none of her bloodied memories made a small ember ignite from within like his words did.

No, snarled the darkness, he is nobody. He means nothing to you, has done nothing for you except bring you pain, over and over again.

Another series of images flashed through her mind, so fast that they seemed superimposed- a cruel queen in a city of stone whipping her bloody and senseless; powerful males with wicked, bloodied swords; a great, coiling beast underwater-

Watch what this vile abomination did, look how he made you feel that delicious suffering, fear and wrath. Smell his blood, how bright and beautiful it would look spilling against his pale hair.

“Fireheart,” the man – Rowan- continued to speak, slowly, like he was scared about how she might react.

Fireheart. Another tug in her ribs as a result of that word. Eyes that had once belonged to her stared into a pair of pine green ones that were open and trusting albeit a little wary and haunted with pain.

“My Fireheart. Do you remember who called you that first?” he asked, his low voice now laced with a sense of urgency. “Your mother, Evalin, used to say that. You were her little Fireheart too, all bright rage and a vicious spitfire but with a heart of gold. Do you remember?”

No, you do not remember. She is another whoring carcass as a result of him and his queen. Forget his poison and look- look at the pain in his voice, look at his shattered bones, look at his burnt back. And feast on it, you wretched mongrel.

” Remember that day in Wendlyn where we took down Narrok and his soldiers? How you burnt the filth and darkness out of them?” he almost pleaded, his hands now trailing down her face.

It felt heavenly- no, it felt glorious, like the first bit of warmth after centuries of freezing winter. She wanted more of that, wanted to feel something apart from ceaseless drowning and despair so she thrashed harder, reaching for that bit of light.

Yes, I remember. No, I forgot, I’m nothing, you’re nobody.

She scraped against the wall she was trapped behind until her hands were nothing but ripped skin, shredded nails and bruises, shoving herself against it so hard that she almost felt her spine snap.

Sit down, the demon hissed, viciously shoving her back underwater, until the blackness encased her again.

“Aelin, you’re my… everything,” hic voice broke but he rushed on, words spilling out faster, “You’re my queen, my wife, my carranam, my mate. You saved be from the horrible blood-oath to Maeve. You wreathed the entire city in burning, raging fire to save me. Do you remember the fire?”

Yes. No.

That little ember was stoked by his words, it leaped higher like it was trying t0 alight this hell. And gods, it felt catastrophic and beautiful all at once; it felt like redemption.

She kicked up against that black, slimy void, her hands reaching, stretching, struggling towards that little flame. Her head broke the filthy water the beast had made her drown in, day after year after century.

And, for the first time in an eon, she saw through her own eyes. Saw Rowan for herself; the way he knelt before like he refused to do to anyone else; his soft hands stroking her grimy hair back; his silver rimmed eyes opening the slightest bit wider when he saw the shift on her face.

Then the Valg slammed her back under, forcing black filth to pour into her eyes, her nose, her mouth.

No, she roared, something like desperation but magnified tenfold coursing through her. No, let me see him, please, please, please.

That was Rowan, her mate, her husband, her-

She couldn’t remember what else. That second of consciousness and given her a moment of reprieve before cruelly tearing it away.

Something shifted in Rowan. He took a deep breath as if bracing himself and straightened his spine. His eyes held no fear as his hands came around to rest gently on either side of her face.

The Valg Prince screamed at the touch, shrieking and grappled with her for control over her arms, and she tried- godsdamn her she tried- to wrench him off.

She failed. Her fingers wrapped themselves around his wrist, pressing so hard that any more pressure would shatter his bone.

He didn’t flinch. No, Rowan only continued to speak, his words hard, brutal and freeing, “Remember the fire, Aelin. Remember how that endless power felt, in a well so deep you knew you could incinerate anything with half a thought. You used those vicious flames to wipe out five hundred beasts, you used that fire to save our -mine, Aedion’s, Lysandra’s, and the rest of your court and kingdoms collective asses. And not just the fire that Mala blessed you with but that terrifying anger you possess for anyone who threatens us, your razor-sharp mind without which we wouldn’t have survived this far. Use that fire, Aelin. Fight it”, he snarled. Another tug in her ribs, much stronger this time than before.

That ember had lit higher and hotter until it was now a crown of flames wrapped around her hand. She paused and marveled at the way it felt, the intensity, the pureness of it. Just having that weak shadow of her former power was enough to make her want more of it, crave it, need it.

She fueled her pain, her sorrow, her desperation into it, making that fire weep just like she did, marking clear paths past the grime in her soul. Tears of gold leaked out of her, surrounding her, protecting her.

“Yes, my Fireheart,” her husband said, his voice and words stronger now, no longer breaking. “You’re so godsdamned powerful, the Heir of Mala-Lightbringer herself. You’re destruction incarnate.”

She shattered his wrist as the fire wrapping around her tighter, annihilating barbed leashes of darkness to ash and dust.

He didn’t react in the slightest, and said with a new fervor, “Remember that power, the cataclysmic depth of it. Burn down this rutting castle, burn down that rutting demon- burn.”

She was shaking, shattering, shuddering as his words tore through that slimy, terrifying presence, the eternal oblivion snapping its claws in her face. As they obliterated any part of restraint on her behalf as boiling lava replaced her blood, flowed through her veins, and threatened to flood the world.

“To whatever end.”

She exploded.

That’s when Rowan knew he was going to die.

@devil-daughter @house-of-galathynius @a97girl @themousa @aelinchocolatelover @julzzz98 @acourtofpainandfeelz @highladystarfall @capt-nix @fucking-winchester-trash @anonymouswalnut @imreallyacarrot @dreamingofdragons11 @wonderrful @bookishlybrooke @the-book-reaper @snd0321 @gracek03 @rowaelin-feysand @im-tired-and-afriad @myfireheartt @thebookamongmen @darlingfireheart @a-court-of-ruin @thepurplehairedmaniac @fantasyfoxgirl @akanksha17 @araujol1

(i know not all of you asked me to tag you but i got lazy and just copy pasted from my last message sorryy)

#rowaelin #rowan whitethorn #rowaelin fic #rowan x aelin #rowan #aelin ashryver #aelin fireheart #aedion ashryver #lysaedion #fireheart #tog #tog7 #tower of dawn #throne of glass #feysand #acotar #nessian

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fieryfafarfanfics · 8 years ago

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The Dim Sunshine

HAAAAAAPPY belated BIRTHDAY @asthenicia !!!!! of course im always late with my gifts coz of who i am as a person lmao I WISH YOU HAPPINESS AND PROSPERITY IN YOUR LIFE!! thank you for being my friend and for filling my life with smiles and laughter. may one day we get to meet so i can squish u to death with my hugs. xoxo lov u :3c

Once upon a time, there was a happy family. There was a jolly man, though his bliss was a creepy contrast to his love for death. He smiled often, laughed daily, always inflicted joy and caution wherever he stood. His skill for dark magic was unlike any other. His love for the undead and all that was unholy struck fear even in the boldest. He was quite a frail man, but his lack of strength was compensated by his terrible talent of the otherworldly. He held love for many things, both disgusting and disturbing, but there was one where he held the highest form of love. There was a breath-taking woman, though her love for dancing contradicted terribly with her crippling stage fright. She blushed often, stuttered daily, always instilled amusement and serenity in her presence. Her skill for dancing was unlike any other. Her skill in battling struck bafflement and awe to enemies and allies alike. Despite the immense talent, her love for performance, her love for entertaining people remained true to her heart. She was a beautiful woman. A dazzling dancer. Even with her timid personality, she never shied away from danger or person’s call for help. Her heart, just as her face, was as angelic as her. She held love for many things, and was loved by everyone else. But, in the end, her pure heart fell madly in love with the man whose heart could no longer be considered human. However, just as she had fallen in love with him, the man soon realized that he too had a heart as well – that he too had a chance to obtain the happiness he so long had given up.

--- In love they found it in themselves. In happiness they achieved by being with each other. His smile and laughter became more genuine. Her smile and laughter became even lovelier. As the years go by in the war, they stuck by each other, were there for one another. As he once warned her, his love truly was terrifying, baffling, sometimes suffocating even. He didn’t wish to let her go. He didn’t wish to let this glint of happiness to slither out of his grasp. He loved her so much, too much, that even the mere thought of living a life without her left him choking for air. She knew this about him. She knew about his troubled past. She knew their relationship would have obstacles and challenges, even if some of them did come from himself. She knew he was passionate, horrifyingly passionate, and he would anything in his power to keep her close to him – even if it meant taking their lives together. She knew. She knew about all this and it would be blatant lie to say if she wasn’t terrified in the least. And yet, she stayed by his side and loved him sincerely. She knew he loved her, truly and honestly. She knew he tried his best to make her happy just as how she gave life and joy in his once miserable life. She knew he was a bit – breathlessly, actually – clingy, but still respected her greatly when she asked for it. In time, he always knew how to make her laugh. In time, he always knew what to say and do in order to rid her of her stage fright. She was thankful for him in her life. And, in truth, even the thought of living without him pricked painful shivers in her smooth skin. She loved him. He loved her. And with this genuine love came born a beautiful, beautiful child. “Welcome to this world,” Olivia cooed lovingly, tears still trickling down flushed cheeks and lips bubbling a weak laugh at the feel of Henry’s kisses on her sweaty forehead, “our dear, dear, Inigo.” --- The child grew up wonderfully and happily. He was the mere definition of bliss. His smile was as radiant as the sun. His laugh was as melodious as bells. Rosy red usually splashed his smooth, soft cheeks. His hair was fluffy, soft, as white as the first snow of winter. He was a bundle of joy, a beaming sunshine, a cause of bliss and laughter to many people around. Though voice was rarely heard due to his crippling shyness, everyone loved him, cherished him, wanted to pamper him endlessly just so they could see the adorable shade of crimson in his plump cheeks. He had his father’s smile. He had his mother’s eyes. He had his father’s pure white hair. He had his mother’s passionate love for dancing. Inigo was the perfect mixture of his parents. Although he rarely talked much in his youth, he laughed and smiled easily to the people he was closest to. He often clutched his mother’s leg when visitors came to visit. He often hid in his father’s robe when they went to town. Inigo, like his father, was quite the clingy boy. However, he was still just as timid like his mother, often shirked away instead of approaching someone he so dearly wanted to be with at that time. Despite everything, he would always be noticed in the end, would always be lavishly spoiled by the undying love and attention from his parents. Inigo was loved and pampered throughout his childhood. And for that, he grew up to be such a loving, optimistic boy. --- “You’re doing great, darling!” Olivia cheered every time Inigo did a spin. “Oh, that was a wonderful bounce!” Olivia clapped every time Inigo hopped just an inch off the ground. Elated by the incoming praises, the young boy twirled and jumped again. His smile never faded from the moment he spent time with his mother, Inigo then stretched his arms to the side, head cocked slightly with a sight of a smile that rivalled the sun above. To see his mother’s laugh, to see his mother’s smile, he could feel pride and joy bursting so madly that he thought his head was about to explode. He didn’t mind that, actually. If anything, he was beyond thrilled to feel such a way if it meant getting to see his mother’s happiness. --- “Look at you, you amazing snowflake!” Henry awed every time Inigo swished his arms to the side. “Wah! This is some super great magic!” Henry clapped zestfully every time Inigo huffed out a short, squeaky ‘hah!’ Thrilled by the countless praises, the young boy spread his arms before giving one huge clap. By his signal, the wind whooshed swiftly towards the grinning father. Laughter then burst from such soft, pinks lips once he saw Henry’s hair was now a frizzled mess. To hear his son’s laughter, to see his son’s smile, Henry could feel bliss and gratefulness overwhelming his entire being. He didn’t mind that. Hell, he loved feeling every moment of it even if it killed him. --- The sky was getting darker each night. Even if it was broad daylight, Inigo shivered fearfully at the gloom that haunted the sky above. They rarely went to the village nowadays. They rarely got out of the house even as the days passed. His parents were still by his side, but their smiles and laughter weren’t always present like before. Instead, they held frowns, scowls, even spat out sighs and grunts when they thought he couldn’t hear them. He heard them, of course, and he was terrified. When Inigo asked, the child would always get the same answers. “Everything is fine, Inigo.” They would reassure him. “Everything will be alright.” They would gently pat him on the back. It was only when Inigo felt their bodies tremble faintly that he knew, he bitterly, woefully knew, everything wasn’t as fine as it used to be. He was scared. He was terrified. Fear kept him awake at night. The sounds of the unwanted jabbed whimpers and sobs from the poor, helpless boy. Sometimes, as he curled desperately in his parents’ tight embrace, Inigo wished dearly, deeply, that all of this would go away, that all of this was nothing but a mere dream and he would soon wake up happy and safe in his mother’s and father’s warm, loving hugs. He wished and wished. Day and night. Constantly and endlessly. And especially in the nights where the moon and stars were swallowed by ghostly abyss. --- But alas, as he grovelled silently in the rain with blood and flesh splattered disgusting before him, he was soon reminded that wishes were nothing but the cruel trick of the heart. --- His optimism died along with his parents. His smile and laughter were quickly replaced with trembling, broken shrieks. His throat hurt. It hurt too much. It hurt just by breathing in the cold, piercing air. Tears were long gone from eyes that cracked veins from within. Cheeks were void of colour, instead hollow and pale like death had claimed him too. Both arms were limp. Both legs were sore. Only in the rain did he find shelter in an abandoned shed not far from their graves. And even then Inigo wouldn’t budge; he would rather sit between the wet, dug holes for countless of hours. He hadn’t eaten anything for days. The only nourishment he’d gotten was from the rain that trickled poorly into his gaping, dry mouth. At times, Inigo wondered if the starvation would take him too. At times, he wondered if the nights he’d spent sprawling motionlessly between their graves would be the last night he had on this horrible, disgusting Earth. He would love that. He would want that. But alas, the Gods above really did hate him. The soil was too wet, too cold as he laid on his back. Blank eyes stared at the dark sky above. The moon was absent again. The stars had been swallowed by some unholy demon. Both arms were spread to the side, the back of his hands pressed weakly atop the graves. The bags under his eyes forced him to close his eyes. The agonizingly painful wound in his stomach forced him to stifle a breath. Ah, if only this was enough to take his life away. His breathing, so weak and frail, slithered unevenly through his nostrils. Never bothered to open his eyes, Inigo slowly, feebly turned his hand around. Both palms pressed against the squishy, cold soil. Sharp, broken nails dug deep into the earth, clutching the disgusting dirt that brushed roughly against the open wounds in his palms. He then felt cold drops poking his eyelids and forehead. And yet, he didn’t move a muscle. --- His father always advised him to never partake any dark magic. Inigo did ask why before, but Henry only replied by saying, “It’s too dangerous for you, son. Dark magic can hurt you bad even if you use a bit of it.” Inigo then proceeded to cry since he knew about his father’s knack for the dark arts, but the sorcerer then laughed gleefully and comforted him with the words of, “Oh, I’m fine, though! Besides, I’m not hurt by it at all because the power from your and your mother’s love are enough to make me stronger to bear it!” Inigo wondered if those words rang true. He never expected to actually test it anytime soon. It was one of those days where the sky had gloomed terribly as if the sun had long exploded. However, after what felt like forever, Inigo flinched terribly to hear growls and snarls from afar. After stumbling poorly out of the shed, the child actually, finally broke out a choked scream to see Risen approaching him. Or rather, they were approaching their graves. Panic. Panic boiled deep in the poor child. His legs and knees wobbled pitifully until he dropped and kneeled on the doorway. His arms and hands were too frail, too weak to even grasp at anything. Hazel eyes were full and his irises shrunk. The Risen were closing in and he needed to get rid of them – fast. But he was too weak. He hadn’t eaten anything in weeks and his flesh felt as if it had dried and stuck terribly to his bones. But he needed to move. He needed to protect his parents. Although their bodies had rotted, although their scattered bones and torn flesh were buried deep inside the earth’s soil, it nauseated Inigo that those Risen would even think of walking on top of their graves so blindly. But he was too weak. Tears filled the corners of his eyes. Yellow teeth chattered roughly inside a twisted scowl. G-G…o… Words that were neither his parents’ names for once echoed in his brain. G-G…M-o…ve… He tried to stand up. He tried to wobble to his feet and reach for anything to swat the Risen away. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t. Still kneeling in the doorway, Inigo gasped and choked as if something had clutched his throat. Sw…Sw-ord… He remembered his mother’s weapon; trembling eyes gazed to the side. The sword was still there, still gleaming beautifully as if it had been bathed by moonlight. Inigo only needed to reach it, to clutch it, to wield it so he could protect them from such eerie beasts. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t even move his arms. Anger fuelled his once dead heart. Even if he could hold the sword, he was just one child. Even if he did have enough strength in the word, what would he do? There were five Risen about to head his way and Inigo would soon be dead by the time one had clawed its way into his skull. Ah, he suddenly stopped, isn’t that…w-what I…want…? Finally, the Gods above were granting his wish. Finally, he would soon meet his parents. Was that not what he asked for every single day? He had suffered long enough. He had seen more nightmares than a child could bear. Maybe, just maybe, the Gods were finally pitying him and giving him the chance to escape this pitiful world. Finally… Inigo only stared emptily at the sword a few feet away from him. Finally… He then robotically turned his gaze to the Risen that were a few steps away from their graves. F-Fi… A single tear trickled down his pale, hollow cheek. Unaware that he had slid a few steps backwards, Inigo leaned weakly to what he soon realized was a small table near the door. Fi…n-nal…l-l-ly— Thud. The small table was fragile than expected, for his weight tipped it down, causing a thick book to fall right in front of him. Softening his fall with his left elbow, Inigo gaped dumbly at the book. Its cover was black, shiny, smooth to the touch as if it was made from the finest leather. Dust poofed from the book, making the poor boy cough and wheeze until he finally threw up bits of water and saliva. Tears now flushed in his eyes, Inigo brought one hand up and madly rubbed his eyes. When vision slowly returned back to normal, Inigo gaped at the mysterious book in front of him. It took him a few seconds, but he soon realized that it wasn’t any ordinary book. It was his father’s tome. “It’s too dangerous for you, son.” His father’s words echoed hollowly in his mind. “Dark magic can hurt you bad even if you use a bit of it.” His father’s concern smile etched deeply in his brain. He remembered the thrill he felt when using normal magic. He remembered the harmless surge of power that slithered inside him every time he conjured up a simple spell. If those powers alone could affect him then, imagine what could happen if he used the spells of forbidden now? “Besides, I’m not hurt by it at all,” His father’s words sang in his brain like an eulogy, “because the power from your and your mother’s love,” His mother’s gleaming smile radiated brilliantly in his vision, “are enough to make me stronger to bear it!” The Risen’s growls were getting louder. Using every last ounce of his strength, Inigo threw his right hand to the tome and flipped open the cover. And right after he did, nausea once again boiled in his throat. And, at the same time, what was once a delicate shade of hazel eerily, furiously gleamed a nasty splash of red once he snapped his eyes open. --- It started to rain again that day. The silver sword sheathed deeply into the soft ground. What was once a Risen was now nothing but dark, smoky soot. The silent child stared blankly at the ground. Puffs of cold air wheezed out of his mouth. Puffs of purple smoke coughed right out of his throbbing throat. The violent smoke around the sword slowly fluttered away, showing the glistening metal that was now tainted with black blood and brown earth. Unable to hold his stance anymore, Inigo kneeled weakly to the ground. His head hung low, heavily, crimson eyes still throbbing and gawking at nothing in particular. He felt his energy draining rapidly. In a matter of seconds, just as his eyes turned hazel, Inigo dropped frailly to the ground. The sword tipped to the side as well, its sharp tip mere inches away from his panting, gaping mouth. The rain was quite heavy today. Head turned to face Olivia’s grave, Inigo feebly reached out for her. At the same time, his left hand stretched towards Henry’s, fingers digging deep into the soil drenched in blood. I…I did it… He faintly cheered. I…I p-pro…t-ect...ed…t-the…m— Vision blurred into two, into three, until his mind finally got captured by deep fatigue. --- Inigo really wished that he could meet his parents again. However, since that fateful day, he soon realized – as bitter as it was to be reminded – that his parents wouldn’t want to see him in this state before his last moments on Earth. So he trained. It was a gruelling attempt, but he forced himself, body and soul, to train so he could move on for his parents’ sake. It was a straining effort, but the child sucked it up and forced himself endlessly. Thankfully, the dark magic his father once forbade him gave Inigo the strength he needed to push himself. He didn’t go through the tome deeply, for just the slightest whiff of dark magic was enough to choke and gag him breathlessly. It felt like needles had pierced and punctured his skin. It felt like his heart was all too ready to burst right out of his chest. Luckily, the excruciating pain didn’t last for so long. And next thing he knew, Inigo soon perceived that horrifying chill as nothing more but little pinches on his skin. He did take his father’s advice though and kept the dark magic at a minimum so it wouldn’t overwhelm him. “Besides, I’m not hurt by it at all because the power from your and your mother’s love are enough to make me stronger to bear it!” The words were enough to actually make him giggle bitterly as Inigo splashed water onto his face. Kneeling by the small lake near their graves, the boy took a deep breath and exhaled shakily through a gaping mouth. It turned out that his father was right all along. --- After the perfect spin, he pressed one foot onto the ground and gave a gallant bow. Both arms spread before his big finale, Inigo then cocked his head and flashed a bright smile. “And that,” The boy straightened his back, “concludes my small little performance!” There were no responses, of course, for all that he received was the chilling brush of the wind. His smile never wavered, however. Hazel eyes closed quietly. Pale pink lips twitched just the slightest. He could hear her voice, hear her praises, hear her comments as well about what and where he should improve in his steps. The mere thought of it all made his heart race, made his eyes burn, but Inigo then opened his eyes, huffing a calm chuckle at the sight of the buried. “Ah, I’ll definitely improve, Mom.” His voice smooth as silk yet hinted with the slightest sorrow, Inigo took another deep breath before he looked at the grave next to hers. “Oh, but don’t think I’ve just been practicing my dancing!” Excitement fluttered in his beating heart, the boy clapped once before taking a deeper, longer breath. As he exhaled through his mouth, he slowly parted his hands. And when he did, a small wave of wind spiralled between his palms. “S-ee?” Voice cracked just the slightest in a mixture of woe and excitement, Inigo looked at Henry’s grave. “I managed to conjure up my own wind!” His eyes burn again, but he decided to ignore it. “N-ow…if I do this…” At the mental count of three, Inigo carefully spread his hands apart, then raised his right hand in the air. As his mind chanted the spell, the small wind intensified from beneath his feet and whipped upwards to the gloomy sky. His white hair fluttered upwards, then puffed into a thick mess once the wind disappeared. He knew he was being delusional, but Inigo didn’t care when he thought he could hear his father’s laughter and praises being sung in his ears. His heartbeat still raced. His smile still shined. A single tear finally trickled down his cheek. --- Inigo knew he had to leave his parents someday. He knew. He knew this but he didn’t wish to acknowledge it. However, after bumping into Owain who was searching for survivors, after hearing the news that many others were alive, Inigo knew his second chance to live a life was given right before his very eyes. From the moment they met, Owain insisted that Inigo should come along. He insisted that the place he stayed wouldn’t be safe for so long, and that the Fell Dragon would not be so merciful as to take their lives as simply and swiftly. He insisted, and yet Inigo was stubbornly hesitant. He didn’t wish to leave his parents’ graves. He didn’t wish to let those filthy, vile monsters to step on their bodies. Gods, just the mere thought of it burned fury in his heart. Inigo would rather die protecting them. Or at least, that’s what he first thought. “Lucina and the others are collecting the gemstones!” Owain explained hastily. “She said that Lady Tiki has found a way for us to save this future and our parents!” Save…the future. Save…his parents…? Inigo loved – used to love – jokes and jest, and he knew Owain was a rather flamboyant fellow. But now wasn’t the time for jokes, and Inigo actually snapped briefly at the Ylissean prince for spewing such tasteless nonsense. However, just the single glance at Owain’s firm, tight frown was more than enough to tell Inigo otherwise. Inigo couldn’t believe him. He actually wondered that this was just a dream and he would soon wake up in that cold, crooked shed. Drip… He didn’t realize that it started to rain that day. And after feeling the first drop of rain brushing down his dry cheek, Inigo knew this was reality. --- The flowers looked beautiful on their graves. Hazel eyes still fixed on the two, Inigo slowly rose to his feet. The silver sword was sheathed neatly by his right hip. The thick tome was tucked carefully inside his satchel. He wondered if this would be the last time he’d ever see them. Ah, just the thought alone ripped his heart into two. Quickly he shook his head. One hand firm on the hilt of the sword, Inigo let out a slow sigh. “Well, I’m off.” Carefully he whispered. “I…I’m going to go save the world, Mom, Dad.” His voice still wavered, yet Inigo did his best to keep his composure. His smile was trembling, but he kept on smiling. Teeth gently nipping the insides of his lower lip, Inigo spun his heel and walked away. His smile actually stayed for a while when he swore he could hear his parents’ farewells. --- Inigo was honestly surprised at the amount of survivors in this devastating apocalypse. He was exceptionally surprised to see the young exalt whom he hadn’t seen in years. “Inigo,” Lucina called out, “it’s been a while. I’m glad to see you’re unharmed.” Her smile was obviously weary, but just as sincere as she looked at him. Inigo didn’t reply immediately. Hazel eyes just stared in bafflement, lips suddenly feeling dry at the presence of the princess. His heart started racing. And for the first time in his life, it raced for a whole different reason. --- To be awakened in a whole different place – in a whole different timeline – Inigo sometimes wondered if the Gods loved to test and play around with him just to see how long he could last. Once again he was alone. Once again he had lost sight of the friends and family he loved dearly. Fear and panic bubbled from within, almost made him nauseous with worry. But Inigo gulped it down, then forced himself to his feet as he tried to make do of his surroundings. Hand rough and hard on the hilt of his sword, he looked left and right. No one was in sight. Not his friends. Not a soul. Panic still kept him alarmed, but awe and bafflement then softened his stance when Inigo realized something that he thought he could never see again. The leaves were green. The trees were brown. Hell, one quick whiff from his nostrils felt like his lungs had been cleansed after years of inhaling poison. Stupor now slowly swallowing that fear, Inigo blinked dumbly before cocking his head upwards. The sky was a beautiful shade of blue. The clouds were puffy, thick, an elegant tuff of pure white. Again he took a deep breath. This time, he gasped loudly and shortly. They did it. They had travelled back in time. His legs wobbled. His arms felt like jelly. Body stiffened immediately, Inigo slapped one hand to his gaping mouth and gawked at the grass below. He was in a world where beauty and peace used to cleanse the land. He was in a world where hope and dreams could be obtained. He was…H-He was… Drip… Drip… He was in a world where his parents were alive. --- A few months passed by quickly since their little time-travel. Inigo still couldn’t find the rest. He still couldn’t find his parents. He was anxious. He was excited. He was nervous. Sometimes everything was felt all at once until all Inigo could feel was pure nausea. He was here. He was here. In that short amount of time, he kept on travelling. He pursed bandits and killed them off from villagers. He pursued ladies and wooed them as best as he could just to make them smile. Sometime he succeeded. Sometimes he failed – miserably. But all that were more than enough to distract his worried mind. He would much rather make a person smile than to make them scream by his blade. But alas, Inigo knew, if he didn’t take their lives, they would be more than happy to take his. He sometimes apologized to his mother for having her sword so soaked with blood from the living. He sometimes apologized to his father for using his tome so often against the once beating hearts. Guilt sometimes twisted his heart. Reminiscence often choked his throat. But Inigo knew there was no time to dillydally. One could only mourn for so long, after all. So, with a wide, white smile curling the corners of his lips, Inigo moved on, swaying his sword and piercing them madly like a cheerful maniac. --- He couldn’t believe it. No matter how many times he rubbed his eyes. No matter how many times he shook his head. Hell, even if he thought of poking his eyes out and shining them clean before putting them back in each socket, Inigo just couldn’t believe it. “E-Er…” She’s here. “I—please don’t look at me s-so…intently…” She was really here. “It ah… It makes me t-terribly bashful…” He looked left. He looked right. And once he dropped his gaze at the petite dancer, he actually choked back a sob. She didn’t respond immediately, though bafflement flashed perfectly upon her beautiful face. Unable to take the pressure any longer, Inigo squeezed his eyes shut and made a mad dash for it. She’s here. “What?! W-wait! Don't go!” By Gods, just when Inigo thought he couldn’t hold on by the sound of her voice. “There you are my pretty, pretty flower! With tears trickling down his flushed face, a short gasp loudly escaped from his wide, trembling smile at the sound of his voice. --- They’re alive. “I’m shyer than you are, Mom!” Like a child, he argued with her. A tiny pout tugged by his lower lip, only the Gods knew just how wild his heart was shaking inside his chest. They’re alive. “No you’re not!” Unaware of the whirlwind of emotions in him, Olivia retorted. Hands close to her howling heart, the dancer then pulled a similar pout to the tall mercenary. In the end, the two stayed in silence, their faces a bright shade of red and timid squeaks stifled behind pursed lips. They’re alive. As silence became their form of communication, Henry then quickly shattered it with roaring laughter. “Aw, look at you two!” His smile was bright as the sun above, Henry clapped once before bouncing in one place beside Olivia. “Your faces are so red your heads might just explode into flames!” Despite his tasteless joke that would sure twist scowls on the other Shepherd’s mouths, Henry only laughed louder for his joy overwhelmed his emotions once the news of Inigo’s identity was brought into light. They’re…a-alive… Inigo watched as Olivia pouted at Henry who then flashed a cheeky grin. He watched as Henry playfully pinched her cheek which only made the dancer squeal even louder. The longer he looked, the more he couldn’t believe it. Mom…Dad… “I-Inigo?!” In a matter of seconds, her voice echoed beautifully once she felt her body being pulled to a hug. Left cheek nuzzling on what she quickly assumed was someone’s shoulder, Olivia gaped forward, only to realize Henry was in the same situation she was in too, though his left cheek rested against the side of Inigo’s head. Laughter then filled the bright sky. It wasn’t Henry’s. And it sure as hell wasn’t Olivia’s. It took them a second, but both dancer and sorcerer soon realized that the delightful burst came from none other than their darling future son. “Mom! Dad!” Body swaying left and right, Inigo couldn’t contain his thrill for so long and laughed even louder. “Gods, I missed you!” His eyes felt wet, yet the mercenary could no longer give a damn about appearances. “I missed you so, so, so much!!” His laughter was then mixed with cracked sobs. And although the young parents didn’t respond verbally, they only glanced at each other before wrapping each arm on the young man’s body. To feel their warmth, to hear their breathing, to know that they’re safe and alive. Gods…! Inigo only bit back his trembling smile and squeezed his eyes shut. Once upon a time, there was boy who missed his happy family so much. END

#Henlivia #Henry #Olivia #Inigo #Fire Emblem #Fire Emblem Awakening #lucina #owain #with hints of lucigo there hohohooh :3c #i hope u love your gift my dear!!!#i cant help bt torture him BUT AT LEAST HE GETS A HAPPY END just for u bb c:#EHHEHEHEHEHEHHEHE #oneshot #asthenicia

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