#just a quick thing i did this morning!!
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dovewingkinnie · 1 year ago
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if i ripped your wings off, would you come back down to me from heaven?
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xxplastic-cubexx · 3 months ago
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your comic of erik "kidnapping" charles is living rent free in my head... I can't stop thinking of a scenario where somebody didn't get the memo about the vacation/kidnapping thing they've got going on and bursts into erik's Evil LairTM of the week to rescue the poor professor only to be mentally scarred at finding him making out nasty style with magneto
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i cant stress enough how fast i went to draw this as soon as i got the chance god help any new x-man to the team
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keelifallen · 2 months ago
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releasing this from the hj discord dungeon because the public populace was in agreement also i'm chronically offline on tumblr and need to fix that for my chronically online ahh
#hand jumper#webtoon#sayeon lee#she couldn't even enjoy herself once she gets into the decent university because she got sent to the corps sayeon lee my giiirl#SHE'LL NEVER BE ABLE TO BASK IN THE GLORY OF VALEDICTORIAN BECAUSE SHE WAS CONSCRIPTED 😭#bro she's built like those kids in school who dump social interaction the moment exam season comes around#she's built like and earned that first honours fr.#but the corps said nah so she did the one thing those kids do make life even HARDER for themselves#even if in context it's no even hard it's just a matter of survival in the corps so success is the only option lest you die#hj reminds me of kaiji a lot with how they handle this but they're like two different genres but i digress#so she created TWO short term goals that forced her to hammer down her if not reinforce her previous values/beliefs#and if you read fp or wait until this tuesday lemme tell you rn it gets worse#which force her back into her shell and wall she's built#which is fucked up bc juni's wall is coming down when cell 4 didn't die as quick as she'd thought and surpassed her expectations#sayeon try not to be any characters narrative foil/parallel challenge fail 1000% speedrun#this only gets worse in fp and while this was in my drafts since the morning#i will say i literally just had a conversation abt this with my g bigbrainmanyvibes before prematurely leaving for lunch#but i set an alarm to actually post all the memes i made here so imma do this one now then the rest later#JOIN THE HJ DISCORD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! IT'S FUN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AND AWESOME!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AND WAY EASIER TO USE!!!!![to me......]#PLEASE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#that's it for my obligatory plug for the hj discord you can stop reading now i you haven't already stopped because i make this thing a diar#anw GLORY TO SAYJIN NATION!!!!!!!!!
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tricoufamily · 6 months ago
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yeah hugo Never liked being around jacques as a kid even before his mom died and before he even really knew why. always hated it when he had to hug him, wanted him to stay longer on his business trips, bristled and got angry every time he heard jacques's childhood nickname for him that he hated ("bush baby"). his mom just kinda didn't register any of this and thought everything is fine hugo is just very very clingy and the nickname is cute surely he's not actually upset over it and
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keeps-ache · 2 months ago
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why's all the colorful stuff always in the kids' options oTL
#just me hi#Whyyy [laying on the ground facing up. hand on your shoe]#I see a thing with colours I like and it's either a) fast fashion garbage that'll break down quick + be incredibly uncomfortable#or b) only goes to size 10 in kids#Must I suffer. Its already hard finding my shoes they're funking Black kdhsvfh#Not only would colours just be nicer to wear they'd also be easier to find <3#And I got the go ahead for multicolour so Whyhuhyhyhhyyyyy lmaoo#And if I get recced another pastel palette I'll explode. It's just not happening. Help kfvsh#It's either pastels or dusty colours I do not vibe with at this time. Or black#And black can be Fine but I don't want black but I also don't want to die immediately walking around and Blaaahh bloooooo ouhrrrr#My mother said this shoe brand she wants me to get shoes from has good colours and I go to check it and you Won't Believe What They Had#I've been SNUBBED#is that the word here? Hang on loll :)#Close enough 👍💥💥#SNUBBED dude. Just awful kfshsh#I don't want neutral colours I am so tired of them lmfhsf#That and pastels. Lord please I am begging for a restraining order against pastels#I had this same problem looking for skates last year whyyyy am I supposed to be beige and faded blue all the time BLAH#//anyway I Did sleep yea :>#I'm also slightly hungry which my explain my renewed issues with this but yk what I think I would had this problem anyway. Peace kfdhshf#At least I can find clothing with patterns and colours i like that happen to be on the same shirt right. Right#Okey I'm gonna stop talking abt it Lmfhsvfhd#//yea I've got some left over energies from last night and a thing I've gotta get on so :3#I think I've figured out my process w/ the tradi inking and then colouring! Went at record speeds last nnnI mean this morning Kfhsvf#Though I have Got to eat before that. Sigh. Sigh. Sighhhh#Life: you get to eat but you also don't have a choice lmao#Same thing with sleep. And baths. Why must good things suck so hard [shaking my fist]#//anyWho I'm going on my way. Onnn my way#Yep. Moving now. As we speak uhh huh#Alright toodles pfsh :>
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monster-noises · 1 year ago
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I will hear people talk about how much Maintenance long hair takes and I'm sitting here with like.. what I think most people would consider Long Hair and having grown up with hair down to my tits like ;;><> I don't... I don't do Shit to my hair and it's? fine? maybe my hair is just Weird idk???
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waterfallofspace · 1 day ago
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Would you be open to doing another Easermic wav? They are my comfort audios and I miss your Aizawa voice so much! ❤️
awhh, that's so sweet!~ 💗 I'd absolutely be open to it, I honestly love doing E/rasermic stuff, they're adorable, and one of my first real ships/characters (A/izawa) that I did anything for on here, or honeslty just with anime in general~
Character wavs take me a bit longer for recording, editing, etc etc, so I can't promise a lot of speed, but if you have a request for them, (like a little scenario/situation that you want the wav with them to be about) please feel free to send it!~
Honestly most of the reason I haven't made another one with them is just that I haven't had an idea that really hit, and haven't watched the show/read the manga in a little while, so their voices aren't really at the top of my mind~ but if you have an idea, I'd be honoured to try to fill it!!
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retiredteabag · 5 months ago
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winter weight
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synopsis: toji has gained some weight this winter - it seems you don’t mind
this is part two -> read about summer!toji here
〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰
It's said that "happy weight" is a very real thing in healthy relationships. Toji had always prided himself on being a big man, he worked out frequently and ate like a beast. But his physique has mostly remained the same impressive form. This winter, however, seemed to have changed that for the very first time.
Toji had noticed these past few days that he'd seemed to have put on a couple of pounds. His shirts were tighter now than they used to be, some of his sleeves seemed to almost cut off circulation, and with a quick feel of his stomach, it was clear that his body was... softening up.
He was not "insecure" per say, just- not in love with his newly added weight. He found himself pulling at the flesh of his stomach, not accustomed to the added fat and he barely walked around the house shirtless as of late.
You'd comment on this newfound modesty of his and he'd play it off as if he had been cold, but you know that your man couldn’t get cold, even in this winter weather.
One afternoon as you both lounged on the couch, you saw him pulling at the front of his T-shirt, flowing it out and away from his body. He didn't seem to be doing it intentionally, eyes focused on the television, but you certainly noticed.
That night he even went to bed with a shirt on which might just have been the very first time he's ever done that in his life.
You went to bed with this notion on your mind. The thing was... the man was totally irresistible to you, so you couldn't quite understand if he was suddenly worrying about his figure.
Toji always awoke before you did in the mornings. When you heard him in the bathroom, brushing his teeth, you stumbled out of bed and came up behind him, wrapping your arms around his form.
Toji is a big guy, he always has been. Only now you notice, when holding the man’s torso, your two arms barely reach around to the mans abs now…
You hum as you feel him up, and he doesn't push you away. Once upon a time you would have tried to tickle his sides, but having been around Toji for awhile now, you know he's not the ticklish type. Even so, your cold hands dance under his shirt and grope at him.
"Too early, ya know." You murmur into his broad back. "Won'tcha come back to bed."
"Get yer paws off me" he jitters, "you're freezing." He turns around to look at you now, facing downwards to meet your tired pout.
"Come warm up with me then." You finish speaking. Smooshing your cheeks into his back muscles and opening your mouth to press up against him and breathe a lung full of hot air through his shirt. While the warmth meets his spine you roll your hands back to his pudgy tummy, his happy trail…
"Alright, alright." He grabs the back of your neck and walks you back to bed. When you're just about within throwing distance, he grabs you by the sides of your chest and tosses you onto the mattress.
In the following moments you curl yourself upon him, your body splayed above his. Giggling, you can't help your wandering hands. He's so warm, you know?
He grabs at your wrist though, "Enough, don't fondle me." His eyes are teasing but you wonder if he's starting to feel unhappy with his body.
"Can't help it, you’re so handsome, ya' know?"
You can feel his muscles tense below you at the confession. He runs a hand through his hair and avoids your eyes. "Thats a bad argument."
You just hum and squish your arms under his back, molding your body to his.
Suddenly he speaks up, "I wouldn't work out as much if I knew you still liked me all fluffy". You hear an annoyed tint in his tone and move up to look at him.
"I like you in all your forms, Toji." And you mean it.
"Ugh." He rolls his eyes at your words and pulls your hands away.
"Don't move me, you're so hot." You tug your wrists in his grasp.
His eyebrows raise
He holds your gaze for a long while, and lifting a brow he slowly speaks, "Get another blanket then."
You stare at him, smiling. "No." You smoosh your face to his chest, "I wanna crawl under your skin... and eat your flesh..."
Toji knew what was coming, he gently pressed on your forehead before you could latch your jaw around his bicep.
"Don't. Even. Think about it." He holds in a giant grin.
"You're too chewable. C'mon..... comeoneeeee." You smirk at him, his palm still flush to your skull.
There's a pause, and just as you think he's gonna give in, he maintains pressure, running his hands down your neck, onto your waist and traps your body under his by rolling on top of you. There are wails of descent from your crushed form beneath him, but he holds you there, wrists in his grasp.
"Lemme go Toji." You tug at your wrists.
"Thought you wanted me heating you up." He huffs into your neck.
"Yeah, but I deserve the privilege of caressing a little more." You flex your hands again.
"You gonna behave?" his fingers run over your palms.
"Not a chance."
He grins, releasing you. Quick as lightning, your hands are up and under his shirt, running over his back. He's groaning into the mattress, something about icy hands, but he's sporting a big grin, leaning down to take a tiny bite of your shoulder.
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gojonanami · 5 months ago
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❝ 𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ! ❞
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❝ THEY TOOK YOU. SO SATORU GOJO DID THE ONLY REASONABLE THING — HE TOOK THEIR LIVES ! ❞
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✧ pairing: gojo satoru x sorcerer!reader
✧ summary: satoru gojo rarely loses his cool. except when it comes to you. so when you get taken and found hurt, he takes matters into his own hands to find out who did it and make them pay.
✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, canon compliant, feral gojo, acts of violence, reader gets kidnapped and attacked, gojo goes insane, gojo clan sucks, higher ups get asses best, yaga and Ijichi featured, dom!gojo, breeding kink, dirty talk, oral (f), fingering (f! receiving), sex (p in v), creampie, implied multiple rounds, swearing,
✧ w/c: 8,446
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The worst mistake Satoru Gojo ever made that morning was to get out of bed.
If he had just stayed in bed that morning, turned his cellphone on silent, and basked in the warmth of the soft comforter you had picked out (even as you balked at the exorbitant price) and especially in the warmth of your embrace — the one place where it felt as if it was okay to be himself, just him.
And now it was just him.
Because you were gone.
When his phone rang that morning, your lips had been against his, indulging in a lazy morning tryst because for once, Satoru had been off duty — or he was supposed to be off duty. Your gaze had been the ones to stir him from sleep, as even in the embrace of sleep he couldn’t resist you or your adoring eyes — the very same he held more precious than his own.
“I didn’t even say anything, how did you wake up?” And his lips curl at your slight frown, his fingers brushing over the curve of your cheek.
“Thought my pretty wife was admiring my beauty while I slept so I had to wake up to the same,” and he’s leaning over to press lazy kisses along your jaw.
“Did you just call yourself beautiful?” You snort, and he grins, before falling into a playful pout.
“My own wife doesn’t think her husband’s beautiful?” And you’re rolling your eyes, before rolling over on top of him, your body only covered by the black t-shirt you had stolen from him last night, a small groan as he felt your very bare thighs brush against his boxers.
You were a goddess — your smile ethereal in the sunlight streaming in from the window as you leaned over him, and he was willing to worship all his life at your altar, if you would only give him a brush of your lips.
“Of course I think you’re beautiful, I’m the one always saying that anyway,” your lips brush his chastely, far too quick and teasing, “I was just imagining what Nanami would say if he heard that,”
“Oh? And what’s that, sweetheart?”
“He would say the size of your ego is becoming a threat to Earth’s atmosphere,” and Satoru raises an eyebrow.
“And my darling wife would disagree, right?” and you look away, biting back a smile, “eh? You’d let him say such heinous things about me?”
“It’s not heinous if it’s true—“ you gasp, and he’s flipped you on your back, pressing his lips to yours to swallow your words, along with your giggles, as you break free, “Toru! Ah—“ and he nibbles at your neck, “hey!”
“You have to pay for the consequences of your actions, baby, what kind of sensei would I be?” And you’re rolling your eyes.
“I’m not your student, ngh,” you’re gasping as his teeth sinks into your neck, “if anything, I’m the one reigning you in,”
“Well then,” he chuckled in his words, as his fingers trace your jaw, “I’ll have to show you how far your student has come then,” and his lips only brush yours, when his phone rings.
“Baby,” you sigh, and he’s glancing at the phone, a sigh on his lips, as he reaches for the phone, sneaking a glance at you, before he picks up.
You press sweet kisses to his chest as you hear the faint murmur of Yaga’s voice through the phone, hearing reports of the special grades they’ve been tracking, “Old man, this is the first day off I’ve taken off in so looooong,” and he holds the phone away from his ear until Yaga’s screams fade, “fine, fine, send Ijichi,” he hangs up while Yaga was still mid-yell, tossing his phone on the bedside table with a sigh, “sweetheart,”
“I know,” you cup his cheek, his lips in a pout not made for the strongest sorcerer, but for your Satoru, “I’ll be here when you come back — waiting very impatiently,” and he chuckles, his lips finding yours.
“How’d I get so lucky to have such an understanding wife?” And your lips curl.
“You annoyed her into falling in love,” and he gapes at you as you giggle, until he’s got you pinned underneath him yet again, “what? It’s true!”
“Then I’ll have to annoy you some more, just to make sure,” and he’s finding you in another kiss, until his devilish fingers run down your sides, beginning their assault on the spots that made you laugh the most.
You pulled your lips from his, squealing, “Nooooo! Satoru, stop!” you tried to push him off from tickling you, but he was the strongest for a reason—a reason you usually were very grateful for, but not right now. And finally he relented, as you gasped and chuckled still, lips in the most adorable pout, “you’ll pay for that,”
“Oh really? How’s that, wifey?” and you kiss his lips chastely, barely a brush, as you cross your arms, fighting back a smile.
“That’s the only goodbye kiss you get,” and he gasps, clutching his chest dramatically, before that smirk of his returns, “and you try to steal one and I’m making you sleep on the couch,” And he pouts, before you press a longer kiss to his lips, “you’re lucky I love you,”
Satoru grinned, “I know.”’
Yeah, he should have never gotten out of bed.
“Where is she?” For once, Satoru’s words were devoid of humor, the laughter and happiness sapped from his very essence the moment he had heard. The moment he had felt your cursed energy waver. All this time, Satoru’s eyes had been focused on the outline of your soul, no matter where he was, because you were always the one thing he wanted to come home to — that he needed to.
“I don’t know Satoru, that’s why I had called you,” Yaga runs his fingers through his hair, “goddamnit,” he swore, scrubbing a hand down his face, “the mission came from the higher ups, they wouldn’t give me the specifics, but they said it was confidential—“
“I don’t care for the details right now, do we know anything about where she is?” Satoru keeps his words carefully measured, muscles wound taut, the only thing keeping him from using blue to destroy Jujutsu Tech in one fell swoop was the thought of you, “did she tell you anything else—“
And Ijichi bursts in, brow furrowed, “Gojo, we have a lead.”
~~~
Was this how it would end?
You knew it was in your fate to die, eventually. A wretched cycle that all of you were forced to live. An endless baton pass that always ended with the last runner dying — nothing but a pile of corpses left behind and to look back on.
And it would almost be a relief, a blessing to finally be done — if it wasn’t for Satoru.
You knew he would blame himself for this. He always blamed himself. Blamed himself when he couldn’t beat Toji. Blamed himself when he couldn’t save Riko. Blamed himself when he couldn’t save Geto. Because he was the strongest, and that meant he should be able to solve everyone’s problems — do everything no one else can do, be everywhere at once, and never fail.
Never. And yet, that’s not what the sleepless nights he spent working told you. It only told you that jujutsu would take everything from him, if he let it, and he would let it, if only that meant he could do more good.
And he was so good. Even if he didn’t see it — you could almost feel the lingering warmth of his embrace this morning, the wide grin on his lips as he peppered kisses down your neck, and the soft gaze of blues made of affection just for you — you would always see it for him.
You don’t see the curse coming, your vision blurred from the last strike. The crack of your bones barely registers in your ears, the curse presses you into the wall, claws pressed to your throat, drawing blood to run down your neck.
“Now, now, we can’t kill her, at least not yet,” a voice calls out, “we were given strict orders to wait,”
The curse’s growl reverberated across your skin, a desperate growl deep in its chest, the string of control being pulled taut, as its black nails dig deeper into your side, until it dropped you onto the ground like a rag doll.
Your body ached only for moments before it was chased away by numbness. And you could only wonder if this was how they felt? Riko, Haibara, Geto, all the others you watched die — was this the pain they felt? The ache of muscles that they could no longer feel, the sticky wetness of blood that seeped from their unknowing bodies, and the cold thst crept up from the tips of your toes.
You wanted it to stop. You wanted to stop. But each time you felt the tug of the other side, you couldn’t let go. You couldn’t. Not when Satoru needed you.
Your eyes burn with tears. And you needed him.
~~~
“Where is she?” The same question was ringing in Satoru’s head over and over since he had heard.
Candle wicks trembled with fear, casting shadows on the wall that shivered in the presence of the man before them. The papered panels was all that stood between him and these old men — the very same that played with the lives of many day in and day out. It would be far too easy to kill them all — in fact, it would barely take any effort at all with his cursed technique.
But he wouldn’t allow them the warm embrace of an instant death.
“Such insolence — how dare you enter this place and speak—“
“You ought to be thanking me,” his power sparked in the glint of his eyes, the glow of the lit wicks catching in the hard blues, “for not bashing your skulls in and ripping your hearts from your chests from the moment I entered,”
A silence swept over the room, another voice speaking, “Gojo—“
“The next words out of your mouth better be an answer because I don’t want to ask again,” his voice fills the silence in the room, only broken by the sounds of the candles crackle, “where is she?”
“We cannot disclose where—“ there’s a loud crack, the splintering of wood and the wet squelch of flesh and blood, and a cold breeze swept through the room, the candles going out.
Satoru’s fingers dug into the soft flesh of his neck, forcing the broken floorboards digging into his wrinkled skin, “I said I want an answer, do you think I would think twice about killing any of you?”
There’s a pause and the silence is only filled by the sound of gore dripping down the paper screens and hitting the floor.
“The only reason I haven’t yet was there was no point to it — no meaning,” and he could see you this morning, his lips curled for you, a strangled choking noise leaving his throat as the pads of his fingers squeezed around his neck, “but now I have every reason to, so tell me before I lose my patience,”
A silence fills the room again, until one of them speaks, “Let him go, and we’ll tell you.”
~~~
“Who do you work for?” the words come out strangled, your fingers bunching up your soaked fabric and pressing it to the gash on your stomach, “why did you bring me here?” You force yourself not to give them the satisfaction of a flinch.
“Do you really think it would be that simple to get me to reveal the reason, jujutsu sorcerer?” you hear a distant laugh, “we have our reasons, isn’t that simple enough? Or rather—”
His footsteps clapped against the floor, your head wrenched upwards, as a small yelp escapes your lips, “does it matter when you’re going to die either way?”
And you grit your teeth, before spitting on his face, half blood, half saliva, “At least I don’t have to live a life as pathetic as yours,” his fingers squeeze at your chin, your jaw aching under his grasp.
“Pathetic?” He wipes his face with the sleeve of his shirt before, throwing you to the floor, body screaming in pain, but you refuse to show weakness, even as tears burn at your tear ducts, “And yet, I’m not the one bloodied and battered and two inches from death, bitch,” he scoffs, muttering, “I can see why they ordered us to kill you now, who would want someone like you around?”
“Now I’m listening, who gave you those orders?” Another voice says from behind him. The man freezes, while you lift your head, a small smile on your lips, “are you hard of hearing or just plain stupid? Well, I don’t really need to even ask that, do I?”
He was shrouded in shadow, but you didn’t need to see him to know it was him — especially as he tugged his blindfold down with two fingers, blue eyes devoid of any humor or joy, and instead only with hatred.
“Satoru Gojo,” the voice left the man’s lips slowly, but before he could react, the special grade curse that had held you was barreling towards him in a moment, before Satoru held it at bay with his infinity, the other curses following suit — how many did this curse user have in the room with him? Three? No more like five or six, but even so — you scoffed under your breath, it wouldn’t matter, “No, you idiots! Don’t—”
And in a moment, they are eviscerated — held back by his infinity, deep seeded growls and roars leaving their lips, “c’mon now, is this the best you can do? I was expecting more from those bold enough to take my wife, but I guess I expected too much,” he sighs, before he lifts one hand, “Cursed Technique Amplification, Blue,”
You barely can make out the screams from one another, the splatter of their essence raining down from above, until you hear footsteps rushing towards you, and you’re hauled to your feet, pressed against the cursed user, his hand around your neck.
“One more move, and I break her neck,” Satoru landed below with ease, his gaze raised until he met yours, and you saw it soften for you — a silent question of ‘are you okay?’ and your nod and a forced smile that told him you were okay enough.
“You can try,” his words were slow and measured, just as his steps towards you were, “but I don’t think you understand who you are dealing with,”
He tensed, fingers digging into your neck, “I know perfectly well who you are, Satoru Gojo, and I am not afraid to die by your hand for this,”
Satoru’s lips curled, “I wasn’t talking about me,”
The kidnapper’s eyes narrowed, “What?”
And you jabbed at his knee, the bone splintering under your force, but you barely hear the snap or his scream because of the blood roaring in your ears. You don’t spare a second before slamming your other hand into his head, nose breaking from your fist, blood splattering across your arm. You ready yourself for another move, before you felt him ripped away from you, a strong arm around you to steady you.
“It’s okay, I got you, sweetheart, it’s okay,” Satoru murmured, soft words meant to soothe you, as his body envelops your tense muscles, until you finally relax into his arms. Your eyes burned with tears, as you looked up at him, before your eyes slid to the kidnapper, Satoru’s hand around his throat.
“I knew you’d come for me, Toru,” you whispered, grasping onto the front of his jacket, “I knew you would,”
“I always will,” and his eyes turned to the man, voice even, “should I kill him once I’m done questioning him?”
You know he means it.
“I don’t know,” you reply, fingers curling as you pressed your face against his chest, “but I don’t want you to have blood on your hands, not for me,”
“It wouldn’t be for you. It would be for me,” he says softly, “but we can discuss it later,” and then others began to flood the scene, the sights and sounds feeling distant as your eyes drooped with exhaustion.
“Satoru, I’m—“ your voice broke, “I really tried—“
“Shh, you did great,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your head, as you finally succumbed to exhaustion, slumping over in his arms, “I’ll handle the rest.”
~~~
“You all must be wondering why I called this meeting,” Satoru said, standing at the head of the Gojo clan’s meeting room. It had been long since he had stood as the head, but far too short for his liking. He had discarded this part of his life as soon as he could, joining Jujutsu Tech without a second of hesitation, and continued to run the operations of his clan as an adult, behind the scenes.
But it seems he was too lax.
It had been a few weeks since the incident. You were asleep for a good day in and out while Shoko worked on you. She came out of your room, pulling off the surgical cap off her head, and Satoru got to his feet, as Shoko removed her gloves and mask, “She’s fine, Satoru,” and he sighs, scrubbing a hand down his face.
“How bad was it?” he asks, and she tilts her head, hands slipping into her pockets.
“Are you asking that to know how badly she was injured or so you can do worse to whoever did this?” Satoru shrugs, lips parting and she holds up a hand, “never mind, the less I know, the better,” she grabs your file and opens it, “most of her injuries related to cursed technique burn out — it seems whoever took her used curse spirits to attack her, she mentioned when she was conscious briefly that they didn’t control the curses, but they seemed to be able to work with them somehow,”
“More intelligent curses have been appearing since Yuji became Sukuna’s vessel,” Satoru murmured, but this wasn’t related to the asparagus special grade or volcano head. It was separate — it was personal.
“But all of this to take a first grade sorcerer, why?” and he shakes his head.
“It wasn’t for her — it was for me,” and that’s why they hadn’t killed you, “is she awake?”
Shoko sighed, “She should be waking up in a bit. She didn’t need much aside from some RCT treatment and stitches for the wounds she sustained,” she places a hand on his shoulder, “go see her, and try not to murder anyone until she wakes up,” she turns to leave, heels clicking.
“Wait,” Satoru stops her, and she pauses, “I need a favor.”
~~~
Satoru never liked hospitals. He hadn’t spent much time in them for actual injuries, because of his abilities. However, he spent far too much time inside medical facilities for the Gojo clan’s required medical check-ups. It was to ensure the future head’s health, he was told, but really, it was an excuse to make sure their cash cow would still give them milk.
Because that’s all he ever was — a pawn.
But he had long shed that role, tossed it from the board, when he had left for Jujutsu Tech. But even so, he lingered outside your room, some things still stuck. Especially when he had new memories — of seeing his comrades dead bodies laid on cold metal slabs.
And would you have been another if he hadn’t made it in time?
Satoru shakes his head of his thoughts, and opens the door. You were still asleep. Tucked into the hospital bed, you looked so small somehow, fragile — two things he never saw you as. How could he have? When you were the one on his first day to greet him and then slap him when he had something pretentious or childish (neither of you remembered but you had insisted it was one or the other).
And he had never let you go after that. But now…he couldn’t even hold you.
The sharp beeps of the machine monitoring your vitals, connected by the tubes and wires that ran all over your body. He reaches for his blindfold so he can look at you, really look at you, but he can’t. His fingers curled into fists at his sides, nails digging into the soft of his palms,
But you were alive. You were alive. You were alive.
That’s what he had to tell himself as he drew closer to your side — no matter how you looked now, you were okay. And that’s what was most important.
“Are you going to brood by my bedside all day?” his gaze snaps to you, your eyes fluttering open still, still drooping and exhausted, but a soft smile on your lips, “Because hospitals are depressing enough, Toru,”
He chuckles, forcing his tears back and his voice to be event, “Sorry, sweetheart, I forgot to pull out the stops for you this time,” and his fingers find yours, lacing as they always did, but they felt so cold, “next time I’ll bring confetti, balloons, streamers, and I’ll serenade you even—”
You snort, “You may be the best at everything, but I know you’ll sing offkey on purpose just to piss off Shoko or anyone else that visits me,” and he laughs shakily, a sigh stuck in his throat.
He presses his forehead to yours, “I love you, so much, y’know that, yeah?”
“I love you too, so much, Toru,” you cup his cheeks, turning your head to press your lips to his hand, “thank you for saving me,”
“You saved yourself, I just cleaned up a little,” his lips find yours in a soft kiss, and your brow furrowed, “what? Are my kissing skills that bad?”
You roll your eyes, “No, but are you okay?” and he scoffs softly, shaking his head.
“You’re the one who got kidnapped and hurt, and you’re asking me if I’m—”
“Satoru, you asked me if you should murder that guy,” you tilted your head, “I know you’re not against killing if it’s necessary or deserved, but the way you said it, I got worried,”
“I’m fine, I just—” he cut off, “I just need to figure out who did this,” you squeeze his hand, “I have to,”
“Satoru—“
“I know you’re okay, but you don’t know how afraid I was that you wouldn’t be—“ he cuts off, “and it’s not just that,” his fingers curl around yours tighter, “it’s not just us we’ll have to worry about in the future. We’re already a family, but what will happen if someone targets you and our future kids?” He takes a shaky breath at the thought,
“I have to make an example.”
Your gaze grows sad, pressing a kiss to his lips, if only to ground him for a moment, “I know,” but you frown all the same, “but promise me, you won’t do anything stupid, ok?”
But he was far from stupid — but the people before him were as close as anyone could get.
“You all are aware of my wife’s attack a few weeks ago,” he said in measured words, swallowing the lump in his throat, “I’m here to tell you that she has succumbed to her wounds,” his voice wavered, breaking, “she’s gone,”
There were whispers and murmurs that swept over the room, all were silenced by the lift of a hand — one of the Gojo Clan elders, the geezer leader as he liked to call him.
“I’m sorry for your loss, Satoru,” he said, lips twisted in a fake frown, “we heard that your beloved wife passed from her injuries a week ago,”
“And yet, I see you’ve brought someone for me to meet,” his eyes slide to the woman dressed for a wedding rather than a meeting, “to what do I owe the pleasure?”
The woman’s painted lips kept in a neutral expression, her body so rigid he could have mistaken her as a statue if not for his six eyes, and her eyes refused to meet his.
“Satoru, I understand you are mourning, but we have to think of the future of the Gojo clan, and our future place in the Jujutsu world is only as secure as the next heir—“
“And so you thought to disrespect my wife by trying to marry your choice?” but their brows furrow as he begins to laugh, one that sends shivers down their backs.
The elders all gape at him, sharing looks, before turning back to him as his laughter finally settles into a quiet chuckle, “Satoru, what is this?”
“It’s funny that you ever thought I’d fall for this bullshit,” he pulls off his sunglasses, cerulean eyes gleaming in the low light, “did you know my wife was never supposed to be sent on this mission? Or rather, there were no reports of cursed spirits in the area, but yet, orders came for her to report to where she was,”
A hush falls over the group, “And why are you telling us this?”
“Because I think you all have forgotten your place,” in a blink, he’s grasping the neck of the elder, the very same man who had taken him away from his parents at the age of two to ensure his training was done properly, “I am the strongest, not the Gojo clan. I’m the only Gojo needed for the clan to be prosperous,”
“You insolent child—“ Satoru squeezes around his neck, gasps and whimpers clawing their way out from his grip, veins bulging as he tried and failed to pull Satoru’s hands off. He had even let the old man penetrate his infinity and all he had managed was a scratch or two.
“You should be careful when you’re talking to the ‘child’ who has your life in his hands,” and he grows silent, “now, to get back to the point, where did those orders come from?”
A quiet washed over the room, the only sounds were the shaky gasps of the elder in his hand, “W-what are—“
“I had a chat with the higher ups — those rotten old geezers may not like me, but I know they like all their limbs intact,” he drops the elder and twists his arm behind his back, wrenching back until he heard a cracking noise, “and they told me the orders came from the Gojo clan, and I wondered why would my own clan send the wife of the head off to be executed,”
“Satoru—“ one of the elders spoke, and he tilted his head.
“If you want him to die, your excuses will only make this go faster,” and his mouth shuts, “I’ll take your silence as a confirmation that all of you had a hand in this,” he sighs, removing his sunglasses, running his fingers through his hair, “man, I’ve had conspiracies against me, but I never guessed you’d target the one person I value above everything else. But I knew you would fail her little test,”
He’s met with furrowed brows and gritted teeth, the elder looking up at him in fear, “W-what?”
“You see if I had it my way, I would have killed you all, no questions asked,” his fingers close over the top of his head, wrenching him backwards to meet his gaze, “But my wife, my very much alive wife,” he adds, with a glance to the woman looking increasingly faint with each second that passes, “she would want me to see if you’d come clean about the plan and whether some of you were innocent,” his lips curl, “but she doesn’t know the bloody history of the Gojo clan like we do,” and his fingers dig into the flesh of the elder, “so what’s a few more bloodstains?”
He tears off his head, screams ringing out as a rush of scarlet paints the walls, splattering across the other elders. The woman offered to be his wife rings over the others, her shrill shriek piercing their eardrums. It’s a dull thud as the lifeless corpse falls to the floor, as Satoru wiped the blood from his cheek, a cock of his head and eyes flashing with anger.
“You can’t do this! You—“ Satoru’s fist connects with his face, blood flooding his features.
“I can, because I’ve decided the Gojo clan needs to get rid of the tumors that infect it, and besides,” his body crumples to the floor as his foot slams into their stomach, a sick, wet noise that draws gasps and open mouthed silent screams from the others, “what are you going to do about it?”
“Please, please, she’s alive—” one of them begged, all of them falling to their knees, wrinkled faces contorted in fear, blown out eyes and faces wet with tears only making them more ugly than he thought was possible — he really couldn’t end up like these geezers, “we only wanted what was best—we wanted the next head of the clan to be even more powerful than you are—”
He laughs, not an ounce of mirth or levity, shivers running down the spines of the others who watched, as he stepped over the body of the elder, lips twisted into a wide grin, “And there’s your mistake,”
He loomed over the one who spoke, shadow cast over him, as his fingers curled around his arm, before breaking it off, spurts of blood splattering on his clothes, mixing with the other — some of it flecked across his face.
Satoru wiped his face with his forearm, tilting his head. He knew they were begging and pleading — lips moving, words forming, but it all fell on deaf ears. After all they had never bothered to listen to any sorcerer before, did they? Suguru’s face came to mind — flashes of the spring he would never get back — so why should he listen to theirs?
“You were too busy worrying about the next head, when you should’ve been worried about the current one.”
~~~~
You were asleep.
Moonlight gave way to your features in the pitch black room, your soft breaths warming his fingers that ran over your cheek. Shoko had discharged you yesterday, and he had brought you home — but even now with you home, he couldn’t sleep. It felt as if you’d disappear the moment he took his eyes off you, slipping from his grasp just as you almost did.
But you didn’t. You’re here.
It was the same words you had whispered to him every night when he had curled up beside you, “I’m not going anywhere, I’m here, aren’t I?”
But you could disappear.
You could if he wasn’t there with you — if he wasn’t fast enough. Because he couldn’t be everywhere at once, not even the strongest could accomplish that. But he wanted to keep you safe all the same. Would it be selfish to lock you up? Hide you away somewhere others could never find you? Keep you hidden if only to keep you safe.
But you never would be safe, not while you were with him.
“Toru?” Your voice breaks him from his thoughts, eyes fluttering open to meet his as your fingers reach for his cheek, “is that blood?”
And he’s pinned your hands in a blink of an eye, quickly and quietly, “it’s not mine,” his gaze glows in the dark, catching the moonlight streaming in, and he’s leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead.
“Toru, what happened?” And he kisses along your cheekbones, your jaw, your nose, your chin, “Satoru—“
“I killed them,” his fingers trace the folds of the satin robe he had helped you into, brushing against the bandages that hid your wounds from his sight, but he could see them all the same, “the people who did this,”
Your brow furrows, “Toru, what do you mean the people who—“
“Why do you stay with me?” He leans down to find your lips in a bruising kiss, lips sliding against yours as his fingers undo the knot of your robe, letting the fabric fall away from your bare body.
“What—“ his lips part from yours, strings of spit connecting your mouths.
“Why do you stay with me when I’m a monster?” and your eyes soften.
“You’re not—“ and he’s cutting you off with another kiss, as your hands struggle under his grip, the other grazing down your side, finding the swell of your hip only to squeeze.
“I’m the perfect weapon,” he kisses down the side of your neck, teeth grazing against your soft flesh harshly, drawing a gasp from your lips, “I could have killed them all, because I know they all knew—“
“Knew what?”
“My clan elders — they wanted to have you die on a mission, they wanted to stage it, so they could have me marry who they wanted,” he pauses, drawing a finger down the valley of your breasts, “create a perfect heir,”
“Satoru—“
He kisses you again, swallowing your words along with your thoughts, parting only to speak, “so I killed them, I didn’t use my cursed technique, I wanted them to feel the pain they gave you, wanted them to feel a fraction of what you did,”
You can’t find a second to speak, his fingers now sliding up your bare leg, as he presses himself closer, erection against your inner thigh, “Toru, you didn’t have to put yourself through that—“
“I wanted to,” he parts your thighs easily, large palm spread against your inner thigh, fingers toying with the edge of your panties, “wanted to tear them to shreds for what they did to you — and what they wanted to do—”
“I’m okay, Satoru, I’m—” a bitter laugh leaves his throat, as his fingers find your bandages again.
“Do you call coming home half dead okay now by jujutsu sorcerer standards?” he shakes his head, running his fingers through his hair, “I told you after Suguru that I would fix this rotten jujutsu world,” he presses kisses up your thigh, “and their deaths did fix one thing — no sorcerer will touch you or our future children again, especially when they speak to the woman the clan wanted to marry off to when your body wasn’t even cold yet,”
“You left her,” and he nods, eyes unable to meet yours.
“I only killed the elders I gathered, anyone else was spared — they didn’t dig their own graves,” his hand loosens around your wrists and you reach for his cheek, cupping his cheek, despite the blood, “I don’t regret it, I’d kill anyone who hurts you, but I didn’t want you to see me like this,”
“Like what?”
“Like a monster,” and you click your tongue, his eyes flitting to yours.
“You’re my Satoru, not a monster, you did what you did to protect me, protect our family,” you murmur, “that’s just about the most Satoru thing you could do,”
“But—“
“And if you are deemed a monster anyway?” You lean up, fingers smearing the blood against your own cheek, “then I’ll just become a monster with you,”
He crashes into you with a kiss, cupping your cheeks, as his tongue slips into your mouth, “can you really be a monster, sweetheart?”
He drags his lips down your neck, his teeth grazing your soft flesh along the hollow of your throat, “T-Toru—“ and his lips find the swell of your breasts, his tongue dragging over your pert nipple, while his fingers hook into the elastic of your panties, snapping it against your skin, “y’know I can be, I would be, for you,”
He peers up through half lidded eyelids, his thumb drags down your puffy bottom lip, “I can’t imagine someone so sweet like you as one,” he murmurs, as he pulls back, lips slick with spit, as he drags his fingers toying with the soaked fabric of your panties, “and I wouldn’t want to drag you down with me,”
Your fingers reach forward, propping yourself up on your other arm, “Drag me or not,” you cup his chin, “you’re stuck with me,”
“Can we make it a binding vow?” you roll your eyes, and his lips curl for the first time since he’s got here, “c’mon sweets, I have to get my reassurance somehow,”
You hold up the giant rock on your finger, the very diamond you had told Satoru was too much, “this wasn’t enough—” the last word is a bite back gasp, as he noses at the drenched crotch of your underwear, a deep inhale that has you squirming, “No, Toru—” but he’s pinned your thighs down, prying them open, as he gazes up at you.
“Uh-uh, princess, I don’t remember saying you could move, especially when you could reopen your wounds,” his nose bumps against your clothed clit, a wicked smile as he drags his tongue over the already wet fabric, “you still haven’t seen how much of a monster I can be.”
~~~
“Ngh, Toru, can’t, I can’t—” but you can — you know you can from the heat building in your sloppy cunt under already soaked through sheets, and he knows too well you can too, from the way your pussy flutters around his three fingers, knuckle deep as they piston in and out, while his mouth toys with your abused clit, “please—”
You lost track of how many times you had orgasmed — his fingers, his mouth, and sometimes both — he had pulled each one after the other, allowing small reprieves, only to bury himself back in. He had even had you ride his face at one point, and you were sure he’d suffocate under your drenched cunt, until he flipped you on your back again.
“Please what, sweets?” he slows his fingers, curling them a certain way that makes your lips fall open, “you’ll have to use your words,” he pulls back.
Chest heaving, chin glistening with your release, his tongue cleaned his lips off before he wiped the rest off, before pressing open mouthed kisses to your inner thighs. And soon enough, his fingers were sinking back into your messy pussy, splitting you open with his thick fingers.
“Didn’t you say you wanted this, sweetheart?” his words cut through the wet squelch of his digits fucking you open, “wanted to drag you down with you, wanted this—” and he sucks hard at your clit, tongue flicking over it, making your back arch, “wanted me to drag you down with me,” and he punctuates it with a thrust of his fingers, brushing against a spot that has you seeing spots, “gotta make good on your promise, and I have to erase all the pain they gave you,”
And you barely manage to latch onto the desperation in his voice, the way the facade flickers.
He fucks you ever so slightly deeper, and you cum hard, tearing through you as your body tenses, pleasure washing over you as it did every single other time, melding into the others, “Good girl,” he murmurs, as he works his fingers through your orgasm, the slick noises becoming white noise, until he finally pulls the digits from inside you.
Your eyes flutter open to the sight of him licking his digits clean one by one of your cum, his lips curled in a soft smile as they meet your gaze, his hand sliding up your thigh gently as it quaked, the very same fingers he had used to murder the people that hurt you, were so gentle when it was you — he was always so gentle when it was you.
But never himself.
You reach up for him, palm cupping his cheek, while the other finds his bare shoulder — clothes long discarded, “I love you,” and the cracks spread, spider webbing from the epicenter, “you know that right?”
His words seem caught in the back of his throat, “Even now?”
“Especially now,” and he’s pressing you against the mattress again, your thighs folded against your chest, legs slung over his shoulders, “you saved me,”
His gaze softened, “you saved me first,” and again and again, he couldn’t count the number of times you did, by just existing, pressing a kiss to the side of your thigh, “but if I’m too late next time?”
“You can’t be everywhere,” your fingers lace with his, “and I just need you,” and still in this situation, his ego can inflate at your praise — nosing at your thigh, a deep inhale, before dragging his tongue up the side of your leg, “only you.”
He drags his weeping erection over your soaked folds, leaking tip teasing your slit while he watched his pre mix with yours, “Think you need more than just me,” and when he lets the tip sink into you, your lips part with his name, just as your walls part for him, “want something else, wifey?”
“You’re the worst,” you look up at him, lips curling despite your pout, your fingers grasping at the sheets under you, as your cunt tries to swallow him whole, “Toru, how long are you going to tease me for?”
And he’s pulling out only to draw a groan from your lips, “If you’re such a monster, thought you could take it—“ and your hand reaches for him, tugging him close by his neck.
“I swear to god, if you don’t fuck me right now—“
He grins, “If you insist,”
Fuck.
He sinks into you all at once, all too fast and all too slow, balls deep as he bottoms out inside you, your walls fluttering only to pull him deeper, “fuck,” your head falls back as his tip brushes against your cervix, “too fucking big, I swear if you rip my stitches open—”
“You don’t think I cleared this before I decided to do this, baby?” He grunts, glancing down to see how your messy hole stretched open as he sunk into you, “can’t believe anyone thought I’d fuck anyone but you — you’re the only one for me, sweetheart,”
You couldn’t help but notice his eyes flicker to your pussy stuffed full with his huge dick, “You talking to me or my cunt—“ and he begins to fuck you, remark undercut by the moan that he pulled from your lips, “f-fucker—“
“That’s exactly what you wanted, isn’t it sweetheart?” the lewd sounds of skin slapping together filled the room, his soft grunts and your moans, “wanted me to fuck you open, yeah?” and he wanted this, needed this after this week — it had been too long since he felt you under him like this — real and alive, his name leaving your swollen, kiss bitten lips.
And you needed it just the same — needed his fingers to dig into the softness of your thighs, needed the way only he could fill every inch of you, needed the soft murmurs of how good you felt, how much he loved you.
“Fuck, Toru, so fast,” you whine, but how could slow down he when you felt so good — so wet and warm, you had joked he could cum just looking at you alone barely a fist around his dick, but it was true — and being inside you just made him unravel completely, all sense of himself lost and drowning in just you, “hngh, it’s so deep,” you babble, tears burning at the corners of your eyes.
“That’s right, sweetheart, gonna fuck you deep, gotta make sure you feel it don’t I?” he coos, and his hand snakes between your thighs, pressing his palm to the bulge in your stomach, making you gasp as your walls clench around him, drawing a grunt from his lips, “that’s it, good girl,”
You keen at his praise, the wet squelch of your cunt around his cock ringing in your ears, balls slapping against your pussy with a rhythm that echoes in your head, as your body arches into him, needing him deeper, harder, faster. He’s nearly rutting into you, his thrusts growing shallow as you clamp down on him, achingly close.
“Those old fucking geezers don’t know what they were talking about—“ he grunts, running his mouth all the same even as he sunk impossibly fucking deeper, “don’t know this is the only cunt I’d ever breed. The only one I’d ever breed. The only one I can. Know why?” And you only can whimper, as his fingers rub against your clit, “because this is the only one made for my cum,”
And his words push you over the edge, cumming hard and fast, head lolling back, as his tip bullies your womb, as he fucks you hard over and over through your orgasm, sending pleasure ripping up your spine. Satoru groans as he feels you spasm, soaking in him in your juices, as he watches a white ring of your cum form around the base of his dick, dripping onto the clean sheets with the evidence of your arousal.
He can’t hold back.
He rails into you, a moan of your name falling past your lips making you pull him close, shifting your legs around his back just so he can sink into you even a centimeter deeper—
“Fuck, g’nna cum,” he’s meeting your glazed over eyes, knowing “gonna fill you up, yeah? Get you nice and round with my baby,” he groans at the thought, the image of you carrying his kid, stomach swollen as you grow his child, “and they’ll know, all of them, that you’re the only one I’d cum in,” and he’s so close, dick twitching as your arms around his neck tug him close.
“Cum in me, Toru, give me our baby,” and that’s it, he’s spilling inside you, spurting his hot release inside, again and again, as he fucks it deeper, filling you up.
“That’s it, take every drop,” he’s relentless, until he finally eases from you, his release trickling out. A soft sigh parts your lips that grows into a sharp gasp as he’s already flipping you over onto your stomach.
“Toru—” you whine.
“Aw did you think we were done sweetheart?” a pillow cushions your still bandaged stomach, placed underneath to support you, a shudder down your body as he rubs his cock against you, as he leans down, hot words murmured against your ear with a grin, before he sinks back into you with one thrust, stuffing his spilling cum back inside, “One thing about monsters are that we also have monstrous stamina.”
~~~
It was early, but Satoru was already awake.
He always had trouble sleeping, but now? His eyes found your sleeping form beside him, under the covers and safe, just as he had left you that morning. He didn’t know if he’d ever sleep more than three hours now. He brushed the back of his knuckles over your cheek, but you needed sleep — one of three things you never could live without (food and himself being the other two). And you definitely needed it now, after he had kept you up — nearly all night.
You shifted in your sleep, revealing several blooming hickies and love bites he had littered your body with, lips curling at the sight, as he pulled the blanket back up around you.
He was selfish — he should have divorced you the moment he had gotten you back. Let you leave because it was the right thing to do — to let you live a life safe without him. But he couldn’t — because he couldn’t imagine waking another morning, spending another day without knowing where you were, how you were doing.
It was selfish. But you let him be — especially when it came to you.
And his phone vibrates on the nightstand, whirring again and again, as he picks it up with a sigh, Yaga’s name flashing on the display. He takes one last glance at you before slipping from bed, stepping into the living room.
“Sensei! To what—“ he hardly gets a word out before screams fill his ears. He rubs his chin, it was too early for this.
He makes out the words — Gojo clan, dead, scandal, murder (wasn’t sure if he meant if he was going to murder Gojo or he meant what happened to the elders).
“It was a clan dispute, there was no need to tell you,”
Satoru held the phone away from his ear, Yaga’s yelling told him everything he needed to know, “Yeah, yeah, I know, the higher ups know — or they probably do by now,” he almost chuckles at the thought, and how he would love to do the same to them — knuckles white as he grips his phone — love to make them feel the same pain the sorcerers cared nothing for felt, make them—
Arms curl around him from behind and he knows it’s you, his body relaxing into your touch with practiced ease, your face buried in his back. His fingers relax, finding yours, tracing over the back, as he lifts one hand to his lips.
—But it wasn’t the time for that.
“Fine, fine, no need to have a heart attack, old man — I’ll talk to them tomorrow,” Yaga was still speaking until Satoru hung up, turning to face yoy, your eyes half closed as his fingers found your cheek, “what are you doing awake, sweets?”
His lips curl as you lean into his touch, “you weren’t next to me when I woke up,” you murmur, nose brushing against his fingers as your eyes flutter open and closed, “how am I supposed to sleep when my pretty husband isn’t next to me?”
“Just pretty?” and you snort, as his arm sneaks around your waist, pulling you to his chest, your head right over his heart, a content sigh on your lips.
“Are you ever serious?”
“Always,” and you smile up at him, chin resting against him, “what is it? Do I got something on my face?”
“You think our baby will have your pretty face?” You hum, and his gaze softens at the thought, “I hope so,”
He grins, “You do huh? And here I thought my ego didn’t need more stroking,”
“It doesn’t, but my husband deserves every bit of praise he gets — because he doesn’t get enough,” you kiss him softly, nose bumping against his.
“You planning on showering me with your praise, sweetheart?” And your lips finds his again.
“Always,” and he’s leading you back towards the bedroom, “where are you—“ you squeal as he scoops you up into his arms and carries you back to bed, gently placing you down, a grin on his lips.
He drags his thumb down your kiss ruined lips, “Do you think I’m gonna let you leave this bed without breeding you right?” He clicks his tongue, “I’m far from done with you, wifey,”
You’re so beautiful, hair spread on the pillow like a halo, “So we’re not leaving until I’m pregnant?” Your fingers brush against his cheek, “we might be here a while,”
Satoru wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.
He kisses you again, long and languid, “There’s nothing I want more than to stay in bed with you.”
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✧ a/n: sorry i've been gone for a bit!! i got super busy with work and got hella writer's block and right when i was feeling ready to write-- i got sick. but i'm doing much better now!!
✧ taglist: @arrivedercis, @ssetsuka, @ch3rryistheg, @satorusmochis, @sunarins-bae, @blindbabycadder , @yihona-san06 , @dantaku , @archieballs , @ceruleansol , @mqcht , @xxemmarldxx , @chiyokoemilia , @theshylittleelfgirl , @rroseselavyyy , @out4thenight , @jatyes , @unreliablefangs , @sleazymac-n-cheesy , @celestialseasart , @minsified , @akemfs , @ranatherealestsigma , @zherryxtar , @virtualangelllllll , @itsmebien , @difluenza , @rougebrainsludge , @mochigod , @euphorism , @vii-is-free , @elliesndg , @beneaththelamina , @monarch-of-anime-simping , @hhimetsu , @simply-a-s1mp , @jennieclips , @svt-backup , @angelbunsx , @duhhitsmiranda , @satowooo , @fushitoru , @lesaurita , @briluvslee , @gojo-gets-me-wetter , @catsgomurp , @pinkyvomit , @hyori2 , @wakashudou , @celestialgojo , @sxnkuna, @nakariabnrb, @dazailover1900, @hanlay, @being-me-is-not-a-sin, @kxouri, @forest-fruits-jam, @spider-fan72, @strawmariee
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writersdrug · 4 months ago
Text
Someone sent an anonymous ask about Soap being all whiny and jealous, complaining to Simon about how lucky he is to have such a pretty, curvy girl and Tumblr swallowed it 😫 (This is gonna be a 2 parter)
Warnings: nsfw, threesome, sub soap and reader, dom ghost, training, voyeurism
But I can imagine Ghost would be so sick and tired of it. Johnny's constantly yapping like the mutt he truly is: "Yer a lucky man, LT. Findin' a pretty bird like that." "Where'd ye get her? Need to find one for myself." "She as soft as she sounds?"
Ghost wants to snap at him for talking about you like that - he shouldn't be talking about you at all. But he knows the poor man is just lonely, aching to have something soft and supple like you. Your smiling face smushed between Ghost's fingers when you come to drop off the lunch he forgot. The jeans that fit snuggly around your ass and thighs, the shirt that hugs the swell of your breasts, stretched thin as it barely contains them... poor Johnny boy can't help but whine at the sight of something so appetizing, so soft and warm right there - he's jealous of his LT. How did someone so hard around the edges pluck something so sweet?
Simon hates to see him so upset, pouting in the corner like a scolded puppy as you stare at your boyfriend with stars in your eyes. Johnny could have a girl, but he gets overeager: fucking them on the first date, leaving them sore and bitten and tearful. He's too rough, and they're quick to excuse themselves, fleeing the next morning and blocking him from all social media.
Johnny needs to learn to be patient and gentle with his toys. He's nice enough to let the sergeant practice with his own pretty girl, and you're more than happy to assist Soap with his green-eyed monster.
After a nice dinner at his LT's house, served by you - along with some bronze, liquid courage - Johnny sits on the recliner, chatting with Ghost, who's relaxed on the sofa. You enter the living room and stand next to Simon, biting your lip excitedly and staring between the two of them. Simon wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you to sit on the arm of the sofa.
"Y' think she's pretty?" He asks Johnny, who blinks.
Gorgeous. Comely. Ravishing. "Course I do." He responds plainly, trying not to get worked up over the way you're perched next to his LT so prettily.
"Yea, you do..." Simon mutters, squeezing the flesh at your thigh. "What's it you said? 'She must look nice, spillin' out my hands’?"
Soap is nothing short of mortified. His eyes are wide, staring back at Simon - he doesn't know what to say. He said those things within the secrecy of his conversation with his lieutenant - he didn't expect him to repeat it outside of that bubble, let alone in front of you, the person in question.
"N' what else was it? 'Need t' have a pretty li'l wife with a rack like that to lay my head-"
"Simon!!"
Soap finally glares at his LT, his fingers digging into his own thighs. His heart is pounding in his chest. Is Ghost trying to get you to hate him?
You giggle and stand upright. "It's ok, Johnny." You coo, slowly walking over to him with your hands behind your back. "I like it. It means you like me."
Soap has little time to do anything but grunt when you swing a leg over his thighs and seat yourself in his lap. Your cleavage is right there, just inches from his face, and he can feel the bare skin of your thighs burning through his trousers.
"Help me take this off?" You tug at the skirt of your dress, looking down at him with those innocent, glossy eyes.
He can't breathe. His clothes are too hot and too tight, his cock nearly choking in the confines of his pants. He looks to his lieutenant for help - Ghost just smiles, like he's watching his favorite porn. He might be, depending on how this plays out.
"Go on, Johnny. Slowly."
Johnny wants to be anything but slow, once he realizes his best friend is showing you off like a collectible toy. He looks back up at you, watching the way your plump lip catches between your teeth. He carefully reaches around, grabbing the back of your neckline and tugging the zipper down - slowly, as he was instructed. He can barely focus on the movement with your breasts right there, imagining what they'd taste like between his warm lips. The shoulders of your dress fall away, revealing the lacy bra you're wearing. He looks up at you, drool pooling under his tongue as you slide your hands over his shoulders, one coming around to play with the base of his mohawk.
"You can take it off." You whisper.
He wastes no time, his hands smoothing up your back and unclasping your bra in one motion. He helps you pull it from your shoulders - your breasts, round and full, now pressing against his chest. He wants to touch. He needs to touch.
He shoots a hungry, pleading look to Ghost - he nods back at Soap, which is all the sergeant needs to absolve his filthy behavior. He closes your breast in his palm, eyes hazy as he takes your nipple into his warm mouth. He hardly has to move his head forward because you lean into his mouth, your fingers grasping at his hair and your back arching deliciously. Johnny groans, using one hand to dig his fingers into the thick flesh at your hips, and his other to press his palm against your lower back. He shifts himself down as his tongue swirls around your nipple, groans leaving his throat and reverberating against the bud, quickly hardening from his ministrations. You sound so sweet, high-pitched coos and soft breaths pouring from between your lips as you press your weight against Soap, shoving your breast as far into his mouth as he can take. You kiss the crown of his head, whispering a good boy against his skin.
He practically whines, bucking his hips upwards, relishing in how your body grounds him into the sofa cushions. He releases your breast with a pop and quickly takes the other one into his hand, sealing his lips over it with a hum. He looks up at you through wanting, begging eyes as you toss your head back, squeezing your thighs around his hips. His tongue undulates against your stiffening peak, slobbering around the underside of your breast as he gives you another experimental jerk of his hips. You gasp, rolling your hips back down onto him and staring at him with your lust-blown pupils.
His cock is demanding to be let free. He's going to fuck you hard, he's going to pound you into the chair until you're begging, showing his LT just how much of a good boy he is. He's never felt this blazing forest fire within his veins, setting off nerve after nerve and burning a trail right down to his hard, throbbing member.
He hooks his fingers into the hem of your soaked panties, fully intending to rip them off - but you quickly grab his wrist and yank his hand away. He looks at you, blinking through his trance as a look of confusion settles on his face. "Wha's wrong?"
You giggle his expression - the sound goes straight to his tip with another rush of blood. "These are for Simon." you whisper, slowly pushing yourself off of Soap's lap. He lets his arms fall to his sides with a desperate look, letting you back away, right into Ghost's waiting lap.
"Gonna show ya a thing or two, Johnny." he says, pulling you back to his chest. "Teach ya a few tricks, maybe you'll be able t' keep a woman longer than a day." he pulls a switchblade from his pocket and flicks it open. The blade drags down over your belly - you chew your lip as it electrifies your skin, the tip sliding lower and lower until he's running it over your pussy. The fabric is soaked as he lingers there, the sharp edge barely separated from your cunt by your flimsy, drenched panties.
You stare at Soap, not once breaking eye contact as Ghost slices through the fabric. Soap's mouth is agape in disbelief and lust, enamored by the sight before him. He can't tear his eyes from the view of your sopping, glistening pussy, watching as Simon slides his thick fingers over your folds. He catches his thumb under the hood of your clit and you jolt, shooting a hand down to grab his wrist - but he doesn't stop. You whine and mewl, leaning your head back against his shoulder as he flicks the bud, strumming over it slowly.
He stares Soap in the eyes, watching his reaction. "Alright there, Johnny?"
He's drooling, mouth hung open, hypnotized by the way your muscles clench with each stroke of Simon’s thumb. “… Aye…” he manages to say – his fingers dig into the cushions beneath him as he tries to control the urge to tear across the room and drive his cock into your cunt, fucking you against his lieutenant’s chest the way you deserve: rough and hard. Simon’s been teasing you too long; you need to be ravaged, orgasm after orgasm pulled from you, faster than you can think.
“Let me have a go, yea?” he says boldly, looking at Simon with desperation. “That’s what this is, right? Ye want me to fuck ‘er nice? I’ll do it. I’ll do it, sir – I’ll take good care of her-“
“No you won’t.” Simon interjects before the dog can get too riled up. His fingers are now strumming up and through your folds, and you’re panting and staring at Johnny with needy desire. “’S why you can’t keep anyone. You’re too eager.”
The truth shoots through Soap’s chest like an arrow, and he meets Simon’s gaze. He’s obviously rock-hard in his trousers, he won’t even attempt to hide it. Simon’s got a cocky, knowing smirk on his face, and you… poor you is just wishing Simon would spit out what he wants to say, so the three of you could get on with the show.
“Gonna teach you a few secrets, sergeant.” Simon says, and Soap isn’t sure what to think about having his rank used in this situation. “My girl needs to cum.” He pulls his fingers away from you – you whine in frustration, but are quickly silenced when two, thick digits are stuffed into your mouth. You obediently clean off your own slick with your tongue, looking back down at Johnny with a heavy, lidded stare.
“I’ll make her cum.” Soap says quickly. If this is a matter of whether or not he can make someone cum, he’ll pass that test easily.
“You’ll do it right.” Simon growls. “Need to understand the difference between getting’ your cock wet and pleasuring ‘er. ‘S my girl ‘n I won’t have you roughhousing ‘er. Got it?”
Soap’s throat bobs as he swallows. It was another task, another order from his superior. He clears his mind of any preprogrammed, lustful thoughts, sent straight to his brain from his achingly hard member – this wasn’t about him. It was about following instructions. He was a good soldier, he could do that much.
“Yes sir.”
Simon nods. He shifts hips, pulling his fingers from your lipsand grabbing your hips. You grab his forearms for support as he spreads his muscular thigs, forcing your legs farther apart as they rest on either side of his knees. Slick dribbles down from your pussy and onto Simon’s length, which is about to tear a hole through his pants.
“Then get to it. Sick of hearin’ you yap all day about not bein’ able to keep a girl. Put your mouth to good use – we’re about to fix that.”
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xxplastic-cubexx · 3 months ago
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If you were to like redesign Magneto's classic outfit in a way that both suits the character and your own tastes, how would you redesign it?
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uhhhh errrmmmmm i dont know i really couldnt improve upon perfection but i have still tried for you my friend !!!
#xmen#xmen comics#magneto#erik lehnsherr#max eisenhardt#erik magnus lensherr#like ig fc erik there too but only if you squint Generally Speaking this aint about him#snap sketches#i thought this was gonna be a quick thing but then As I Do i sat and thought about it for too long#and for what. my end result isn't that different from the beginning !! tragic .#out of these i think. it MAY be obvious i like the far right one#once i remembered I Do In Fact love megaman i locked in cause everytime i draw Classic Magneto all i think of is megaman#cant even make a magnetman joke that mfer already exists and he from my FAVORITE classic megaman title tyvm#anyway. should i explain my reasoning now. man i guess i can try#i couldnt tho is the thing- at least for the first set i really was just ickin around and seeing what i Might like#evidently it was nothing LMAO i told yall i cant improve perfection ... so i just. Smash Bros'd his classic look#With some tearing on the cape cause i said so ............#at most- with the furthermost right bit- i just wanted to emphasize a feeling of 'power' hence the chunkier boots + gloves#with the first look i tried that angle with showing some arm skin buuuuttt i dont like it ...#i think the sleeveless look really only works if the outfit's black idk i cant explain it#overall the first design i tried just feels too sleek for my liking if i wanted to go for a 'power' approach#i like the 'M' i did with the legs at least. i really wanted to incorporate an M in case it wasnt clear but alas ...#tbh i might steal the boots/gloves/underwear design from myself when i draw classic magneto regularly. SHRUG we'll see#as for now i am very sleepy and i have class in the morning and i want to do some work Before Class#very cool but very sad i dont have my third class today :( its my fave class :( at least i get more time to work#and the more work i get done the more time i get to draw the sillies !!! epic ...#anyways. good night everyone !!!!!!! talk to yall tomorrow ..... probably ... or later ig technically... i should sleep earlier <- wont
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luveline · 4 months ago
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hi hii jade! Was wondering if you could do something sweet and fluffy w poly!marauders where reader wakes up in a very cozy and giggly mood 🤭 just some warm domestic love hehe
thank you for requesting! fem, 1k
Someone is kissing his waist. Sirius squirms in his dozing, not expecting it as those kisses travel up his naked chest. Your laugh is breathy and soft as you kiss his shoulder, your weight strewn across his side and arm, your hand finding his cheek. 
Your fingers feel inhuman in the best way, like an angel. They spread across his face and neck as you hold him in place and kiss the skin where his neck meets his shoulder. “I love you…” you whisper, the ‘you’ turning long and slow like honey slipping down his front. “I wish you didn’t sleep so much.” 
You kiss him again, and with that you’re out of bed. Out of the room before Sirius has time to gather his wits, but he does gather them, because he needs more of whatever that was. 
What sort of sweetheart kisses somebody with such gentleness thinking they won’t remember? To press affection into him with want of nothing in return. He doesn’t even bother getting dressed, just scrubs at his sleep-swollen face and fishes the crusties from his eyes as he descends the stairs, numb-legged. 
James is grabbing you by the hips, helping you up onto the counter. His curls bounce at the back of his neck. “What’s gotten into you?” he asks. 
“Love, for sure.” 
“I can see that. Eggs? Omelette?” 
“Jamie, you can make anything. Actually, let me make you something–”
James pushes you further onto the top. “That’s okay, I’m cooking. I want to cook.” 
Sirius isn’t insecure, exactly. He feels he’s quite handsome when he attempts to be, and he knows you like him whether he’s trying or not, but he doesn’t know if you want to be interrupted, either of you, and it’s his private agony to wonder what to do. Then you spot him over James’ shoulder and your eyes practically sparkle. 
“Siri…” you sing-song, melodic as he crosses the kitchen linoleum to be with you and James. “Did I wake you? I’m sorry.” 
Sirius touches James’ elbow with love but swoops in on you. “Did you wake me?” he asks, kissing your cheek, his arms working behind you to hold you as his lips travel downward. He isn’t half as sweet as you were, too busy trying to squeeze your torso against his and mould you into a perfect fit against him and under his arm to really think about what he’s doing. 
“She did it to me, too.” 
Sirius pulls your face into his neck and turns to James with a grin. “And Remus?” 
“He was already awake. But she kissed him and did that thing where her eyes somehow look bigger and shiny and he had to go for a walk.” 
“He didn’t have to go for a walk,” you mumble from Sirius’ neck. “He always walks on Saturday mornings. He’s just getting some herbs from the greenhouse.” 
The back door opens on cue. Remus reappears with an aura about him much like yours, dropping the cut herbs on the cutting board, and stopping just shy of everyone to smile. “Did she do it to you, as well?” he asks. 
James squeezes Remus’ face in his hand, a quick thank you for the herbs that has the latter turning pink. 
“She waylaid me with kisses like a common whore.” 
“Sirius,” James says scornfully. 
“Me being the whore,” Sirius says. You laugh into his neck, seemingly with no inclination to leave the circle of his arms. “Will I ever see your face again?” he asks. 
“It’s cozy here. I wish we’d stayed in bed.” 
“We can go back.” 
“After breakfast,” James says, popping an egg on the edge of the frying pan, breaking the shell one handed as he gives the sizzling oil a shake. 
Remus not so subtly crosses the last of the space to slot himself between your right thigh and the counter. Sirius has the urge to cup his cheek as James had done —Remus has an extremely holdable face— but is distracted by your nose nuzzling the line of his throat. 
“I love you,” you say. 
Doesn’t matter who you’re talking to. All three boys melt. 
“I’d like to do some really weird things to you,” Sirius says. 
“Me too,” James agrees. “But we do need breakfast first.” 
“No one is doing anything weird to me, it’s the weekend.” You beam as Remus laughs, seemingly your intention. 
Sirius backs away to a polite but still close proximity. He isn’t selfish; being in a ‘strange’ relationship like this one is a lot of reading cues, and a lot of just plain old climbing into people's laps when you want them, because nobody can truly read minds. Yet Sirius can see that you’re in the sort of mood where everything you touch turns to gold and all the boys want a piece of you, and who is he to get in the way of that? 
Well, he’s your boyfriend. He takes a kiss before he delegates himself to being herb-chopper, stealing glances of you from the corner of his eye. 
You tease a strand of Remus’ hair behind his ear. 
“Weird stuff is for weekdays only,” you’re murmuring. “What I want today is the real romantic stuff.” 
“Then you can have it,” Remus murmurs back. 
Sirius will happily be doing very romantic things to both of you after his omelette. James, too, if he’s so inclined. 
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seospicybin · 5 months ago
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THE FUCKBOY NEXT DOOR.
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PART I
Bangchan x reader. (s,a)
Chapters: Part II / Part III / Final.
Synopsis: Having issues to break up with your boyfriend, you seek help from the boy next door and the number one fuckboy in the area, Chan. (10k words)
Author's note: I went through a nasty break up a few weeks ago and this is basically just me trying to cope by being delulu about having a fuckboy Chan as a neighbor. Enjoy x
It becomes a habit now that Chan doesn't know where he is when he wakes up in the morning.
The first thing that he'll do is retrace everything to last night. He was DJ-ing at a club, had a few drinks in between, met a girl who was eyeing him the whole night, had a few more drinks, there was a little touching and a quick makeout session in the dark alley and people can guess what happens after that
So this is where he is right now, the girl's bedroom and he can recall everything that happened last night except the girl's name.
"Fuck!" Chan mutters under his breath.
Judging from how bright the sun is outside, he knows he only has a little window to make his escape so he quickly gets off the bed as calmly as possible. He then tiptoes around to gather his clothes and put them on without making any noise.
However, he fails at it as the head from his belt hits the bed frame and the clanging of metal meets metal echoing in the room.
The girl steers on her sleep and rolls over to the side, she brushes her hair away from her face, catching Chan putting his belt on.
The plan to make a quick getaway has come to a failure but he keeps his cool, continuing to buckle his belt and then plants his hands on each side of his waist.
"Morning," He awkwardly says with a forced smile.
"Morning," the girl replies with a smile then props an elbow against the mattress, sending the duvet sliding down her body and exposing her bare chest to him.
Chan might have been a little drunk when he met her but damn, his fuckboy radar works well even under the influence of alcohol.
"You're leaving already?" She asks, flipping her hair to the back to expose more of those beautiful mounds to him.
Chan has to tell his pervy brain to focus actively, he looks away and picks up his jacket from the floor.
"I promised a friend to help him move out today," He lies, then pretends to check the time on his phone, "And I'm kind of late."
The girl nods then twirls her hair around her finger, "Well then... when can I see you again?"
"I hope soon," Chan says with his charming grin that disguises the insincerity in his answer.
The girl smiles at that which confirms that the grin works, "But seriously, I can't wait to see you again," she says.
"I'll call you," he says because that's what he can promise her at the moment but whether he'll do it or not is uncertain.
"But you don't have my numbers yet," she says with her eyebrows wrinkled in suspicion.
"No, I'm sure you already did," he says, convincing her by scrolling the contacts on his phone.
"Yup. I have your numbers already," he lies again, showing her a random contact on his phone for a quick second.
"But my name is Thalia," she says, cleverly catching the name on the contact.
"Yes, of course, you're Thalia," he says with utmost confidence and his ultimate weapon of a dimpled smile.
The girl seems alarmed though. She sits up on the bed and clutches the duvet close to her chest, "We're going to see each other again, right Chris?"
"Yes," he answers without a beat, and at this point, lying is as easy as breathing to him.
"Can I get a kiss before you leave?"
"Sure," he says, coming around the bed to give her a quick peck on the lips.
The girl smiles when he lets go and watches as he walks to the doorway, "I'll call you, Tanya."
"It's Thalia," she corrects him with an apparent displeasure on her face.
Chan shoves his phone into the pocket of his jeans and takes the time to properly bid her goodbye. Nothing a girl likes more than a sweet mouth and a little assurance, he'll give her exactly that.
"I'll see you soon, Thalia," Chan says with a smile.
"See you soon, Chris," and the girl naively believes him, if only she knew that this will be the last time they're seeing each other.
Yet again, Chan makes another successful getaway.
-
The warm weather of spring makes it a pleasant walk from the bus stop to his apartment building. He wants to stop somewhere for breakfast but his head feels heavy from the hangover, he just wants to go home as soon as possible, have a bowl of cereal then take an aspirin for the pounding headache.
In the lobby, he makes a quick stop to collect his mail and takes a quick check at it, sorting them out on the spot so he knows which ones he should bring upstairs.
From the corner of his eyes, Chan catches his neighbor, you with your boyfriend chatting by the elevator. He notices the gestures, the expression, and the whole interaction, it doesn't take a genius to know that something is going on there that the naked eyes can't see.
Chan throws the unnecessary mail into the trash bin nearby and walks to the elevator, hearing the little conversation going on between you and your boyfriend.
"...the waffles were delicious. We should have breakfast there again," the boyfriend says as he looks at you, "What do you think?"
"Yeah," you meekly answer while looking at the little screen that shows the floor the elevator is stopping in.
Chan tries to remain invisible but his eyes accidentally make contact with your boyfriend so he may as well make his presence known.
"Hi, neighbor," he greets, he knows your name but you seem to prefer to be called that way.
You do what you always do whenever you meet each other in the building, give him a quick judging look and a courteous smile.
"And hi neighbor's boyfriend," he greets your boyfriend next.
"Hi," your boyfriend greets back, "Chris, isn't it?"
"Yes and you are Lee," Chan responds.
"Right. So how was your Friday night?" Lee initiates a small talk.
"I believe it wasn't as good as yours," Chan playfully answers.
"Oh, we just stayed in and watched a movie, right baby?" Lee says, putting his arm around your shoulder.
All of a sudden, you take a step forward and say, "It's here."
The elevator doesn't chime until a moment later but you seem to be more than eager to get in. You turn around to give your boyfriend a quick hug.
"I'll try to leave early so we can have dinner together," Lee says with a quick kiss on the cheek.
"It's okay. Take your time," you say with a faint smile.
Chan quietly gets into the elevator and holds the door open for you, he tries not to look at what's happening in front of him not out of politeness but it's just painful to watch.
"I'll call you," Lee adds, catching your hand as you enter the elevator and kissing it.
"Okay," you say then wave your hand at him.
To help you get out of it, Chan releases his finger off the buttons and sends the doors sliding shut.
"Bye, baby," Lee says for the last time before the doors completely close.
It's just another awkward elevator ride with you and he'll usually try to endure it but after watching all that and trying not to say anything is hard, he can't help but impose.
He glances at you to check whether you're ready to hear about what he has to say but you always have the same stoic expression. Then it occurs to him that he has never seen you smile impolitely or out of joy, or even hear your laugh, but maybe after you hear what he's about to say, he'll get to see a different facial expression on you.
"Oh, man! That was painful to watch," he sighs as he keeps looking straight ahead at his reflection in the shiny furnace of the elevator.
There's no one else in the elevator so you're fully aware that he's talking to you but you don't respond until a while later.
There you go, with your judging look and stoic expression, looking at him as you say, "Excuse me?"
Chan doesn't want to sound rude but beating around the bush isn't his thing, he prefers to be straightforward. He knows it's all based on assumptions but he's pretty sure his judgements are pretty accurate.
He's going to just do it and lay out the facts, he turns to the side, then leans his back against the cold surface of the elevator.
"Your shoulder tightens when he called you baby and the fact you lied about the breakfast tells me that you didn't actually like his choice of restaurant," he pauses to let out a cynical chuckle, "the waffles weren't that good, I guess?"
When he wants to see a different facial expression on you, he doesn't mean seeing your angry one, but oh well, the damage has been done.
"Because I'm a good girlfriend that's why I let him choose the restaurant," you become defensive all of a sudden but that's an unconvincing answer.
"No, you let him choose out of pity," he simply remarks, "And just now, your nostrils flared when I pointed it out."
With all of these signs combined with his personal experiences, Chan narrows it out to one conclusion. He looks at you in the eyes and says, "You're about to break up with him, don't you?"
It looks like you've been slapped right on the face except that the slap doesn't come from someone, it's from the truth that comes out of Chan's unfiltered mouth and he instantly regrets it for meddling in in someone else's business.
"I'm sorry, but why are we having this conversation?" You ask, crossing your arms together in front of you.
"It's not like you're any better. You slept around, you're scared of commitment and now, sticking your nose at my business. You are the kind of person that I deeply despise!" You angrily say with your chest heaving.
It seems like you're saying all of those things about him out of anger because he sees right through you but now he knows why you always give him that judging look. He's the one who started it so yeah, okay, maybe he deserves that but that doesn't change the truth. The problem is what he said and your response, they're heading in the opposite direction.
"I think someone has her panties in a twist," Chan coyly responds.
"Look, there's nothing wrong with wanting to break up. That doesn't make you a bad person," he adds and decides to end the talk right there.
It gets quiet in this enclosed space and it's already suffocating as it is but how lucky that he has to patiently wait for the elevator to ride through three more floors to get out of here.
When the elevator finally dings open, Chan lets out a breath he doesn't know he's been holding but he's not the one in a hurry to exit both this space and the situation. He stays where he is and lets you out first.
When he thinks you don't have anything else to say, you stop right outside the elevator and look at him with a piercing gaze.
"Don't, for one second, think that you had any effect whatsoever on my panties!" You emphasize every word in anger, then storm off.
Know what? Maybe Chan should skip the bowl of cereal and take two aspirin instead. As for you, maybe you need to chill the fuck out.
-
Just because you've been neighbors with Chan for the past three years doesn't mean that you know each other on a personal level.
All you know about him is that he's a DJ which explains why there's always music playing in his apartment, he always wears a sleeveless top to showcase his muscles, and he always has a stupid grin on to show off the stupid dimples on his stupid face, an annoying Australian accent and from how many times you caught different girls taking a walk of shame out of his apartment, it's safe to say that he's the number one fuckboy in the area
So how dare he say all of that stuff in the elevator when he doesn't know anything about you at all? Moreover, what does a fuckboy like him know about relationships?
It shouldn't be hard to ignore because it's something you usually do but gosh, the memory of the conversation still vexed you a few days later.
Then it hits you that it bothers you so much because deep down, you know what he said is true. You've been wanting to break up with your boyfriend and hearing that comes from someone outside that relationship only solidified that thought.
There's nothing wrong with your boyfriend, Lee is nice, too nice even, and when you think about it, maybe that is the problem, he is too nice and that leads you to another problem, you don't know how to break up with him without hurting his feelings.
But you know who can help you with that? Someone who has a lot of experience in breaking up with people.
Oh, what a joy that you find the answer right across your door!
Before you get to ask for his help though, you're fully aware that there's another thing to do and there's no other way to do it but walk up to his apartment, knock on his door, and apologize.
As you're standing there in front of his apartment door, you're dreading it. All sorts of thoughts crossed your head like why did you have to be so riled up that time in the elevator? Why did you have to say that thing about the panties? Just why? Ugh!
Let's just get it over with, you mutter inside your head.
With hesitant hand, you knock on his door and then hold the urge to turn around and run back to your apartment. You let yourself take a step back as you wait for him to come for the door.
Do not open the door, do not open the door, you chant inside your head while tapping your foot against the floor. However, things are not always going the way you want.
The door swings inward and a second later, Chan appears with disheveled hair and he only has one arm in the sleeve of his t-shirt, then you spot a girl's shoes next to his feet.
Oh no, please don't say you're coming at the wrong time.
You reflexively take another step back but he grabs your forearm and then opens the door wider, showing you that there's a girl there.
"It's my neighbor, she's here to remind me about the tenant meeting," he says to her.
The girl looks at you rather suspiciously and crosses her arms together in front of her as she glares at Chan.
"No. Don't you dare try to get out of this, Chris!"
"But it's true. We have to leave now," Chan says, then gives you a look that tells you to lie along with him, "Right?"
Running a quick assessment of the situation, you're certain that Chan is trying to get himself out of it to avoid having a difficult conversation with the beautiful lady. You hate to be the accessory to his crime but if this means that it would help you earn his forgiveness...
"The pigeons!" You make up a lie on the spot.
"The pigeons are ruining our rooftop garden so we held this urgent tenant meeting," you add with what you hope is a convincing smile.
"Oh, those damn pigeons!" Chan heavily sighs with a phony expression.
The lie makes your throat dry and your cheeks hurt from forcing a smile, you have to keep it going as the lady considers whether to believe that the tenant meeting is true or not.
Chan grabs his jacket from the clothes hook and puts it on, "We'll continue this later, okay?" He says to her.
Without waiting for her answer, he gets out of the door and drags you with him to go to your apartment. Once both of you get inside, he immediately closes the door behind him and lets out a long sigh.
"Oh, wow!" He exclaims once he realizes that he's inside your apartment.
He allows himself further inside and leisurely walks around your apartment, checking your kitchen, trailing his fingers on your book collection on the shelf, and observing the potted plants lining up on the window sill.
He walks back to the middle of the room and takes another 360-degree look around the apartment, then nods in approval.
"So, this is what the inside of your apartment looks like," he says in a cryptic tone.
Not sure if he wants you to respond to that or if should respond at all. You choose to remain silent and only respond when his intentions are intelligible.
Chan then sits on the sofa, making himself comfortable, and looks at you, then at what you're holding in both hands.
"Is that for me?"
The jar of cookies you've been unknowingly holding in your hands is a token of apology and it is for him.
"Yes, it is for you," you say, handing it to him with both hands.
"I'm sorry about the other day," you sincerely apologize, but you know you have to let him know what you're apologizing for, "for what I've said to you. I'm terribly sorry."
"Well, since you're helping me with the uh... situation," he coyly says as he scratches his eyebrow, "consider us even."
See? That wasn't so hard. You feel bad for lying to the girl but at least, you've been forgiven.
"Thank you," you add with a smile.
Chan doesn't say anything else but opens the lid and takes a cookie out of the jar. He gets comfortable on the sofa, sitting slumped with his legs spreading wide, and then he takes a big bite of the cookie.
It doesn't take long for him to notice that you have something else to say to him other than an apology.
Before he gets to it, you force yourself to start speaking.
"So, Chris..." you call, then abruptly stop talking. You suddenly have a second thought about asking for his help.
"What's up?" He asks while chewing on his cookie.
It's at the tip of your tongue but your mouth feels like they're sewn shut. You clasp your hands together and muster up the courage to just blurt it out.
"Do you want something to have with the cookies?"
You swear you plan on asking for his help but somehow, your mouth saying a different thing.
"Milk would be nice," he answers.
"Milk. Yes, I have milk," you awkwardly say, slowly making your way to the kitchen like a walking dead.
You take a carton of milk from the fridge and while pouring it into a glass, you're scolding yourself for being so cowardly.
After taking a moment to take a deep breath and muster up the courage to ask, you walk back to the sofa with the glass of milk in hand. With a smile, you hand it to him.
"Thank you," he says, his eyes catching something in your eyes.
You immediately break the eye contact and take another step back, standing and watching him finish his third cookie then wash it down with a sip of milk.
"I hope you don't mind that I'm going to stay here until the girl leaves my apartment," he informs.
"Oh?" You meekly gasp.
"But I can leave if you're uncomfortable," he says as he sits straight on the sofa.
"No, it's fine," you shortly reply, "Take your time."
"Okay, thanks," he says, reclining back on the sofa and continues munching on the cookies.
You can't decide if he stays longer than you expected is a good thing or not. You use the opportunity to reconsider it and walk to the kitchen to get out of his sight.
"Do you need help or not?" You quietly ask yourself as you pour yourself a glass of water.
Why is it so hard? He's right there. All you need is to go and ask for his help.
The water sloshes out of the glass as you fill it too full and you reflexively back away to avoid getting water all over the front of your dress.
"Everything good there?" Chan asks in a slight panic.
That's it! Enough time has passed from overthinking it! You walk up to him and just do it.
"You're right," you blurt out, "I've been wanting to break up with my boyfriend."
Sensing that it turns serious, Chan slows down his chewing and puts away the cookie jar. You expect the I-told-you-so grin on his face but no, he looks saddened instead.
"Things aren't working out," you openly share with a sad sigh.
You take a seat on the ottoman facing the sofa and sadly sigh, "I've been wanting to break up with him for a week now but I just don't know how."
"How long you've been dating each other?"
"Three years," you answer.
"Wow," Chan lowly gasps in awe.
Three years is not a short time, he understands why you hesitate to break up and it isn't an easy decision either.
"I need your help," you hopelessly say, unintentionally becoming vulnerable in front of him.
"My help?"
"Help me how to break up with him," you further explain.
"Of all people, why me?" He asks in utter confusion.
It's hard to answer that without being rude, you decide to let him process the question until it leads him to the answer. After a while, he lets out a dry chuckle and nods, "Okay, yeah. Make sense."
Chan takes another minute to accept the fact that his help is needed because he knows how to break up with someone without feeling awful about it afterward.
"I guess you want to let him down gently?"
"Yes," you answer.
"Well..." he inflates his cheeks then lets the air out through his pursed lips, "You can break up with him through a text."
Which part of 'let him down gently' did he not understand? How is it a good idea to break up through a text? But okay, it's just one suggestion, you give him the benefit of the doubt for now. Who knows he'll come up with better suggestions.
"I'm sorry. No, I can't do that," you kindly refuse his suggestion.
"You can send it when he's sleeping," he adds.
Oh, God! He gives you an even worse suggestion instead of better ones. You know what? This is a bad idea and you regret asking for his help.
"I don't—" You stop yourself from talking and get up from your seat.
"I'll just check if the lady is still..." Your words trail off as you walk towards the door and check through the peephole first, then you get out of the door to check his apartment next.
"Hello? Excuse me?" You shout from the doorway but no one is answering you.
You take it the lady has left and walk back to your apartment to deliver the news to the rightful owner of the apartment.
"She already left," you tell him.
Chan lets out a sigh and closes the cookie jar, he finishes the milk to its last drop and then gets up from the sofa.
"Thank you for the cookies and the milk," he says with his signature grin.
"No worries," you reply, trying so hard to hide the disappointment in your voice.
Chan holds the cookie jar in one arm and takes a step closer to you, "if you need help on how to write breakup texts, I'm just across the hall," he says.
You don't respond to that but keep a smile on for him as to seem polite.
"And good luck!" He says with gentle pats on your shoulder.
The second he walks out the door, you collapse onto the sofa and dread it even more than before. Turns out, asking for his help is not helping at all.
The next day, you meet him as you collect your mail in the lobby and it's hard to ignore him when his mailbox is next to yours.
"G'day!" Chan greets you as he leans the side of his body against the wall while sorting his mail.
"Good day!" You respond and hurriedly walk toward the elevator. You push the button to summon it to the lobby and hope it comes soon enough for you to avoid talking to Chan.
Of course, things don't go as you want it. He comes just in time for the elevator about to arrive, he crumples a few letters in his hand into a ball and then tosses it into the trash bin.
"How did it go?" He asks.
"Pardon?" You nonchalantly respond.
Good thing that the elevator chimes open and you can pretend to forget about what he asked you a while ago. You get inside while clutching your mails in hands in front of you but it's not safe yet as you have to share the elevator ride with him.
"So... the break-up texts? Did you do it?" He asks again, going to the corner of the elevator and leaning his back against it.
"Chris, I think you can't just end a three-year relationship with a text," you put it as nicely as you can.
"Yeah, I reckon," he innocently answers.
It seems like Chan can't tell the difference between what is easy and what is right. It isn't a good idea in the first place to ask for help from someone like him who doesn't consider other people's feelings except his own.
"What are you going to do then?" He asks, shifting his weight on one leg.
Since his help is not helping at all, you have no answer to that yet. This should be something you have to figure out on your own in the first place.
"I'll figure it out," you not-very-convincingly answer.
Chan crosses his arms in front of him, making the muscles and veins on his arms more evident under the fluorescent light of the elevator.
"Lee seems like a nice guy," he remarks with a deep inhale of air.
Well, if you have to compare your boyfriend to Chan, then yes, Lee is a really nice guy. Lee excels in a lot of things, including how to treat a person with feelings.
"Yes," you settle with a simple answer.
"A drawn-out break up is only going to end in a big scene," he says, "Just saying."
Chan has a point. It's worse to prolong the pain for both you and Lee, you can't keep pretending that the relationship works and it's unfair that you keep Lee oblivious about all this.
"We can practice, you know," he offers.
"Practice?"
"On how you're going to break up with him," he explains.
He comes up with a better suggestion this time and is almost endearing even but again, he wouldn't know how a person with real feelings reacts to a break-up which makes you unsure if the practice would be any help.
The elevator is about to arrive anyway so you decide to skip on responding to his offer. Once it chimes, the doors part open and you take the first turn to get out with Chan getting off after you. You turn to the left to your apartment while he turns right. You take the key out of your pocket to unlock the door and push your way in while clutching your mail close to your chest.
"You know where to find me if you need help," Chan says just before you close the door to your apartment.
Hard pass, you answer in your head but you put on a smile for his kind offer, then close the door
-
Okay, you admit it. You were too haste when you said that you didn't need his help. You were doing fine for these past few days, you've been avoiding meeting your boyfriend to give you some more time to think of the best way to break the news to him until he calls you.
The phone rings and you just stare at it, considering whether to pick it up or not. If you pick it up, that means you have to lie to him and if you don't, it'll alert him that things are, in fact, not okay.
The latter seems like a better idea so you pick it up after taking a long, deep breath.
"Hi, baby. Am I calling you at the wrong time?"
Not entirely wrong but it would be nice if he didn't call you, you answer in your head.
"Yeah, sorry, I was in the bathroom," you lie.
"Coconut shrimp for dinner. What do you think?" he asks out of the blue.
"That sounds nice," you easily respond.
"I know you'll like it but, babe, do you mind getting us a bottle of wine on the way?
"I'm sorry?" You ask in confusion.
"For our dinner, remember?" he answers, "I'll cook tonight we'll be having dinner at mine."
You hardly paid attention to him because your mind was always elsewhere, you couldn't remember saying yes to the dinner but you did and it must be out of pity.
"No, of course, I remember, I'm just..." you rake your brain to think of something to say.
"I thought it was next week," you lie again with an awkward chuckle.
"You silly!" Lee says, "Aren't you glad that I called, huh?"
"So glad," you lie, again and again.
"I should start prepping the ingredients so they'll be ready when you get here," he says, his voice exuding enthusiasm.
"Okay."
"Don't forget the wine!"
"I won't."
"I can't wait to see you, baby," he sweetly says.
The lies are piling up so may as well add another one to the pile, "Me too."
"I love you, bye."
Don't think you can lie your answer to that, you gulp air, "Bye," you say to the phone, then quickly hang up.
Desperate times call for desperate measures and you don't know your desperate measure means knocking on your neighbor's door. Probably because you hate to admit that you need his help.
Not long after, Chan opens the door and his head pops out from the gap, "What's up?"
"My boyfriend just called and tonight, we'll be having dinner in his place," you blabber in panic.
It takes a second for him to process it then his face turns a little surprised, "What are we going to do then?" He asks in confusion.
You may be in dread but you catch the error in his question, "We? Now, you got your panties in a twist," you tell him.
"Shame on you!" He responds with a sly grin then opens the door wider and shows himself dressed in nothing but a white towel hanging low around his hips.
He puts one arm against the doorframe and leans close to you as he says, "Cause I'm not wearing any panties right now."
You should have noticed it from his wet hair and the beads of water rolling down his neck, and now that you're seeing the whole of it, your eyes immediately following where the beads of water going, they're going down the outline of his abs and eventually, to where they're all gathered as his pelvic bones leading down to one way: down south.
However, your instinctive reaction goes against what you're actually feeling inside.
"Ugh!" You groan and turn to the side, "Put some clothes on and I'll see you at my place!"
Without waiting for his answer, you rush back to your apartment and close the door behind you as fast as possible, then you rest your back against it.
The images of his naked body flashing through your head, his glistening wet pale skin, and how some parts of his body are blotchy red around the neck and chest. You get flustered all of a sudden, you immediately press the back of your hand to your cheek and you can feel them heating.
"Get it together!" You scold yourself.
After waiting for almost fifteen minutes, Chan finally comes knocking on your door like it's a musical instrument.
"Are you dressed?" You ask with your hand on the doorknob.
"Hardly," he jokes.
You peek through the peephole and see that he's already dressed to what you can say is his usual attire of dark short pants with a matching sleeveless top, showing off his bulging biceps. You open the door to let him in and he coyly walks in, treating your place like it's his own, sitting on your sofa with his legs spreading wide.
"Okay, so, why am I here?"
You stand in front of him with your hands clasped in front of you, "I've been lying to him the whole phone call and honestly, I've been doing it since the moment I decided that I want to break up with him, and I... I don't think I can lie to him again."
It's easy to admit your mistakes to him because he barely knows you and his opinions about you won't matter that much to you.
"I need to do it tonight," you hopelessly say.
"I take it you need my help to practice your break-up speech?"
You hate that he guesses it right but it's also convenient that you don't have to beat around the bush to ask for it. But first, you try to explain the situation as much as possible so he has ideas on what you're facing here.
"Lee is a man of many emotions and I'm not exaggerating when I say he'll likely cry," you inform.
Chan's forehead wrinkles as he processes this piece of information then stifles a nod. It seems like he still has no idea what you want him to do about it.
"I think it's less painful if you acknowledge the dumpee feelings," you blatantly explain.
"Okay, I got you. Let's practice!' He says, sitting up straighter on the sofa and then putting his hands on his knees.
It's just a practice but your anxiety takes over you not just mentally but also physically as your palms get sweaty. You wipe them down your jeans and take a breath.
"Lee," you call him by your boyfriend's name, and even though it's weird that you're roleplaying, you continue, "I want to break up with you."
Chan looks at you and gets quiet for a moment, "Wow. I'm in utter shock and it makes me very sad to hear that," he says with a rather serious tone.
Not the kind of reaction Lee would likely pull off but that will do if you decide to continue with it.
"I'm fully aware that this is so sudden but I've been thinking hard about it for some time and I think this is a decision that I should take," you say and you know it's a practice but you feel something caught in your throat.
"I'm sad and I need time to process it, but I'll be okay," he calmly says.
Chan gets the tone right but you believe breaking up wouldn't be this easy in real life, especially when there are real feelings to protect. To be honest, you're not ready to face the truth that you may hurt those feelings tonight.
"I think that went very well," Chan says, returning to his default settings.
"Yeah, I think that's it," you meekly say.
The worries and sadness are drawn on your face that Chan can easily see through your veiled expression, "If Lee is as nice as you said he is, then you shouldn't worry much," he says.
He waits until your eyes meet his to continue, "He may get surprised or shocked even, but he'll come around and respect your decision."
You can't believe that those words are coming out of his mouth or that he even tries to comfort you, but you appreciate it. Maybe his heart is still there, he just doesn't let it control him most of the time.
He gets up from the sofa and walks up to you, he takes your hands, ignoring how cold and sweaty they feel in his, "You got this," he assures you.
"Thank you, Chris," you sincerely say with a sad smile.
It is time to stop torturing both you and Lee with lies and forcing yourself to believe that the love is still there. It's time to accept the truth that if you can fall in love, you can also fall out of love.
-
It's a surprise that Chan worries about things that aren't his business. He's been playing some music to distract him from his head but he keeps the volume low because he doesn't want to miss hearing the sound of the elevator that will tell him any signs that you're back from the dinner.
Eventually, he tires himself out from worrying and falls asleep on the sofa. He startles always close to midnight after hearing the knocking on his doors.
Half disoriented, he trudges his way to open the door and finds you there, surprisingly, looking nice in a white cotton dress and your eyes dry.
But from the way you let yourself into his apartment, forgetting your impeccable manners and walking with shoulders slumped and carrying your shoes in your hands, he takes it that you did it.
"So... how did it go?" He carefully asks, following you as you're making your way to the sofa and then sitting on it.
You let a heavy sigh and your shoulders slumped even more, "At least, there's no crying," you answer with a sad smile.
Chan is unsure of how to react to that, is that a good thing or a bad thing? He just stands there with his arms crossed on his chest, thinking out loud.
"And even though it was ending... it was incredibly meaningful to me and I'm going to miss him," you say with your lips trembling.
Oh, no, Chan knows when a girl is about to cry, he quickly finds a remedy to it, one that he knows always works wonders for him. He runs to the kitchen and brings a bottle out of his alcohol stash, then hands it to you.
"Let's have a drink!" He says, realizing that he forgot the glass.
"Wait another second, I'll get the glass," he says, sprinting to retrieve two glasses from his kitchen cabinet.
When he returns, he sees that you're chugging the alcohol straight from the bottle. You gasp and then wince from the bitter aftertaste of it.
"Okay, straight from the bottle it is," he says, popping onto the sofa next to you.
You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand and then hand the bottle to him in which he wastes not another second to take a sip of it.
"The thing is... I really care about him but he wanted to get married, and I'm just not ready for that," you share with your eyes blank and looking at the void.
You take a deep breath but it seems like it only sends your heart sinking deeper and deeper, and making it harder for you to breathe.
"And if I'm not ready with a guy as great as him then what if I'm never ready?" You say, turning your head his way with your eyes glassy, pooling with tears.
"What if that was it..." you lift your shoulders then drop them as you let out a low sigh, "my one chance at love?"
The tears start streaming down your face like a bursting dam and Chan knows he can't do anything about it but let them out.
Hearing your words makes him think about what his idea of love is. He used to think that it was something he could get whenever he wanted it but now he knows that he's wrong, because that's just a short-lived infatuation, just some sort of meaningless connection.
From you, he learns that love is a privilege that not everyone can experience.
"What if I never get a second chance?" You ask him the question that he doesn't know the answer to.
"I don't know. I'm just sad," your voice cracks, then you break into tears.
Chan is quick to catch you into his arms and offers you his embrace. He knows he can't do anything about this sadness but he can try to soothe the pain, he's placing gentle rubs on your back as you cry into his chest.
The cry is resounding in this space, echoing the sadness back to you and it makes him inexplicably sad too, and he gets the urge to make it stop.
"It's going to be alright," he murmurs at the top of your head.
You look up with your eyes wet and red with tears caught in your lashes, "Is it?" You croak.
He doesn't know when but he knows for sure that time heals everything.
"It will be," he answers with a gentle caress of his knuckle on your wet cheek, "eventually."
Your eyes tell some more assurance for him and he doesn't know what drives him to do it, but he leans in, then kisses you.
To his surprise, you kiss him back and he knows you're doing it because you seek his comfort and he wants to give you exactly that. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you close, giving you that closeness you seek. He kisses you ever so softly because he knows he's kissing a broken heart and he wants to mend it. He can taste your sadness and the bitterness of it, and also the relief underlying all of it. As he kisses you, he lets his heart open just enough to take some of that sadness away from yours.
As the kiss deepens, the sadness withers, and something else emerges. Chan loses in it for a bit until he realizes what you're trying to do with your hand that reaches for the front of his jeans.
He abruptly detaches his lips from yours and shakes his head, "No, we can't do this," he says.
As much as he fancies you enough to have sex with you, he knows better not to do it when you're not in your right mind and your judgments are clouded with sadness. The last thing he wants is you waking up in the morning full of regrets.
"I want this, Chris," you croak.
"No, we can't," he adamantly says and takes your hand away from him.
"You're sad. You do want this," he says in an effort to put some sense into you.
You roughly crumple the front of his t-shirt and pull him close, "I want– No, I need this, Chris," you say to him with your eyes dark like two bottomless pits.
"Please?" You plead as a tear rolls down from the corner of your eye.
This is the most hopeless he ever heard of you and it breaks his heart. You said it yourself, you need this and he knows what you mean by that. You need the distraction, you need him to take this pain away even just for a fleeting moment, moreover, he can't break what's already broken.
He takes your hand off of his clothes and puts it in his, he leans in until his forehead is pressed against yours.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" He asks once again.
"Yes," you answer without a beat.
That's all Chan needed to hear, he inhales air and puts an inch between your faces. He then tenderly holds your face with both hands and looks at you, unsure where to start but maybe, he can start by making those tears coming out of your eyes.
Chan dabs the tears pooling in the corner of your eyes with his knuckle and without the slightest of hesitancy, he places a gentle kiss on each of your closed eyelids and before you can open them, he captures your lips in a kiss.
Sex is not something new to him but Chan knows that this time is not about physical fulfillment, but a way to offer comfort and hopefully, to also mend your broken heart.
He takes his time to strip away every piece of clothing on you until you're bare, lying on the bed with nothing but sadness that fills your heart.
He touches you with utmost gentleness, using just his fingertips to feel the softness of your skin and you're so pliant, sensitive to his touch.
To make it fair, Chan takes his clothes off as well before joining you on the bed, caging you in between his arms and hovering only inches away above you.
"Touch me," he says to you, taking your hand and placing it on his shoulder.
He then glides your hand down his neck and chest, he makes you feel every inch of his pale skin with him. However, when he looks at you, your eyes remain on his.
"You feel so warm, Chris," you lowly mutter.
He brings your hand close to his mouth and kisses it, then crashes his lips on yours.
The gap between your bodies becomes non-existent as you keep pulling him close, he relents by lowering himself on top of you and props an elbow against the mattress to not put his whole weight on you.
Lips locked, hands around each other, bodies pressed together and the temperature keeps on rising in the room. Chan makes you feel every part of his lips brushing and gliding over yours. He skillfully parts your mouth open with his tongue so he can kiss you deep and hard, yet slow until you run out of breath.
At the same time, his hand makes its way down until his fingers land on your delicate flesh. He touches it tenderly, running his fingers between the folds, and drags them upward to rub on your bundle of nerves.
"Ah..." you moan against his lips as you curve your hand around his neck and pull him incredibly closer.
Judging from it, he knows he's doing it right and he should continue, he applies gentle pressures on your clit, making you drenched and that way, he can slowly put a digit inside of you.
You let go of his kiss to let out a moan and your head falls onto the pillow as he puts another digit into you, two fingers pumping in and out of you.
Chan intently watches as your face contorted along to the pleasure, how your jaws slack open and breathless moans keep spilling out of your parted mouth.
The way you clench around his fingers makes him impatient to feel you and how tight you feel around him, and the noises you make oh, they're his new favorite tune that he wants to keep listening to until his eardrums burst.
He glances down as he pulls his fingers out of you and finds them thickly coated with your essence, it doesn't stop him from shoving them into his mouth and lick them clean.
Chan holds you by the chin to keep you still as he kisses you, "Give me a second to get a condom, yeah?" He says to you and you nod in answer.
He makes his to the bathroom and pulls the drawer open to take a condom. To save time, he decides to put it on right away, he tears through the foil packet with his teeth and rolls the rubber down his hard length.
On the way out, he catches his reflection in the mirror and gets reminded that this is not about him. Tonight, it's all about you.
He returns to the bedroom, finding you still lying in bed naked and hugging yourself. He climbs onto the bed and lowers himself on you, letting you absorb his body heat to warm you.
Craving for another taste of it, he goes down and plants his mouth on your cunt next, tasting you right on his tongue.
You're squirming as his tongue laps over your wetness, drinking in on your essence and then using it to circle on your clit.
He's not the only one getting impatient and asking more of it, you both want it and there's no wasting time anymore. Just before he takes it to the next part, he places a long, tender kiss on your clit and immediately brings his mouth to yours again so you can taste yourself on him.
"I'm going in, mmh?" He says as he endearingly brushes your hair away from your face.
You hold on to his shoulder as he settles himself between your legs, aligning his cock with your entrance but before that, he rubs his length between your folds, lubricating it with your essence.
Your hands fly to your chest, hugging yourself again as you lowly moan to his hard length rubbing over your clit and then, pushing its way into you.
"Goodness fu—" he can't even finish his sentence without breaking into a satisfied groan.
It's just the tip but he can already feel how tight you are around him, he's scared yet excited to push more of him into you. He reorganizes his breathing and rests his hand on your abdomen to do it.
Chan looks down to check and he still has a little more of him that needs to be inside you, he sharply inhales air through his nostrils and pushes the remaining length in one quick push.
"Oh..." you breathlessly moan as you're squeezing on your breasts.
Chan allows himself to take a moment to adjust himself to being inside you and you seem to also need time to adjust to his size because you feel so incredibly tight around him. It makes him wonder how this little thing can take him so well.
He takes your hands away from your chest and puts them around his shoulders, that way he can put his body on top of you, lips locked with yours again in no time as you wrap your legs around his waist, sending him deeper inside you.
As he takes a breath in between kisses, you hold his face and look at him with a different kind of sadness in your eyes which only reminds him that his initial plan is to make it go away.
He starts thrusting into you, wanting to fuck this sadness out of you. He wants to make you think of nothing but how his cock fills you full and how good he is fucking you right now, and soon, he's going to make you feel nothing but immense pleasure.
"Ah... ah... ah..." you moan for every thrust going into you and the skin-slapping sounds echo along with it in the room.
Chan plants his mouth on your breasts to contain his grunts and groans while keeping the steady motion of his hips pulsating against you.
A hand reaches for his chin and forces him to look at you, instantly engaged in eye contact with you. He continues thrusting into you with eyes looking deep into you, they're no longer looking like bottomless pits, they look like deep oases that he wants to dive into.
The next thing he knows, Chan finds himself deep in you, not just physically but also connected with you in a way that he's never experienced with anyone else until now. He feels barer than he already is and instead of shutting himself off, he embraces it and lets you in.
Soon enough, he finds himself lost in it and fully connects himself to you in a way that lets him know how it feels to love without fears or insecurities holding him back, without worrying if it's being reciprocated or not, to love wholly and completely.
"Oh," you let out a broken moan and that's when he notices that you break into tears again.
Chan abruptly stops moving, afraid that something he does is hurting you without realizing it.
"No, keep going, keep going," you tell him with your voice hoarse.
He needs to make sure to continue, he cups your jaw and asks, "Are you okay?"
"Yes, please, keep going, please," You repeatedly nod and plead with your teary eyes.
He wants you to stop crying, he wants you to stop thinking about what hurts you and start to see him as he tries to take this pain away from you. His body picks up the pace, going impossibly fast and also taking himself close to his high.
Your eyes are screwed shut, your breath is ragged and your hands are gripping onto his shoulders, overwhelmed by the pleasure that he brought on you.
The moment he's sure that you already come to your climax, he allows himself to let go and uses all of his strength to give you a few more thrusts until there's nothing left in him but waves of pleasure that wash over him.
"Chris..." you softly call and then pull him for a chaste kiss on his lips, "Thank you."
Chan's face hovers only inches above you as he softly gazes into your eyes, you look so fragile and open like a wound and he's just glad that he can make your heartache gone even just for a while.
"Shh..." he stops you from talking by running his thumb over your lips and then kisses you with his heart wide open. He lets this beautiful feeling pour out of him and into you.
"No, thank you," he mutters his gratitude between kisses.
Thanks to you, he experiences something he's never felt before with someone else, something new, something pure and real, something that feels a lot like love.
When he wakes up in the morning and finds you're not there, it hits him that maybe it is love but Chan is not ready to admit it yet.
-
A week passes and Chan hasn't seen you ever since that night.
He can't tell if you're avoiding him or needing the space and time to piece yourself back from the break-up, he hopes it's the latter. Gosh! Let him be right.
Regardless of what happened, he can live with the fact that you despise him but it would be sad to know if you choose to go down the path of believing that you're not going to find love again.
Chan just needs to know if you're doing okay, that's what matters for now.
Fortunately, the two of you have been neighbors for quite a long time to learn your routine and knockabouts. He knows what you like to do on a Saturday morning, he goes to the lobby and chats with the concierge as he waits.
At the first sight of you entering the apartment building, his heart palpation, and in all honesty, he's just so happy to finally see you after a while.
Are you not seeing him there? Or you're just pretending which only confirms his initial thought that you've been, in fact, avoiding him.
You're walking through the lobby carrying a bag of groceries in your arm, you skip checking on the mailbox and go straight to the elevator. It just happens that the elevator is vacant and the doors slide open after you push the button.
Chan decides to take the risk, sprinting to get into the elevator before the doors close. You already despise him so a little more hate shouldn't be a problem to him.
"Morning, sunshine," He greets you with his dimpled grin.
"Good morning," you politely reply without looking at him.
Things are going back to normal and he should be glad, right? At least, you're back to your usual settings of looking stoic and acting polite, and the best thing about it is you're still talking to him.
"I should learn to avoid people from you. You're good at it," he pushes it a bit just to see if he can crack through this facade.
"Excuse me?" Your head turns his way and with your eyes widen, "I have not been avoiding anyone."
Chan holds the urge to smile for successfully getting your attention and rests his back against the cold, metal furnace of the elevator, "Are you sure?"
"Well, we're seeing each other now," you tell him.
"That's because I know you like to go to the farmer's market every Saturday morning," he says at the same time, admitting that he knows about your routine.
You slowly turn your body facing him and squint your eyes at him, "You've been keeping tabs on me?"
"It's my favorite pastime activity," he shamelessly answers then pokes his cheek with his tongue.
"It's better than watching porn," he playfully adds, something that he knows will annoy you the right way.
"Ugh!" You groan as you look straight ahead.
Oddly enough, that's what he misses the most about it, interacting with you and seeing your reaction to his antics, but you, especially.
"Don't be so uptight," he coyly says.
He takes a step closer to you and puts his hand on the handlebar, "it's not like we haven't slept together or anything."
You let out a scoff and hoist the strap of your grocery bag higher on your shoulder, "I'm shocked you even remember," you say.
You turn your head next and your eyes immediately lock in a gaze with him, "I figure I'm just a low notch on a very long bedpost," you add.
"Are you calling me a man whore?" Chan says, feeling offended.
You take a step closer to him and daringly stare back into his eyes, "I didn't call you a man," you answer with a sly smirk.
There's a few seconds of silence until Chan realizes what you just said to him but you know what? He's going to give it to you, for now.
He looks at you and smiles, "Touche!"
You both look at each other and at the same time, burst into laughter, and it keeps going until the hilarity subsides with each passing second.
Is this real? Did you just poke fun at him with a beautiful smile on your face? Did you really laugh and the sound of not only echoing in this enclosed space but also in the back of his mind? Did he just see a different facial expression on you? Either way, he likes it and he likes how it makes him feel.
The elevator chimes open and soon, the doors part open. He lets you get off first and then takes his turn after, he gets a little disappointed as you both are going in the opposite direction.
"Hey, Chris," you call as he's only a couple of steps away from the door of his apartment.
His heart palpation again but he keeps his calm and then slowly, turns on his feet to face you, "Yes?"
"I'm cooking curry for dinner and I know it'll be not as good as the one you always ordered but you can come and..." your hand is fiddling with the strap of your grocery bag as you speak but your eyes remain steady on him, "see if it suits your taste."
And did you just invite him for dinner? Him, the neighbor you despise so much?
Chan acts coy and scratches the back of his head, he holds the urge to answer right away. He has a reputation to uphold and he reckons, you have to at least wait a minute for his answer.
"Yeah, okay, let's see," he nonchalantly answers but his smile tells otherwise.
You crack a laugh and nod, walking to your door with the keys jangling as you're unlocking it.
Chan thinks that's the end of it until you call his name again, his heart leaps this time and he almost flies his way to you.
"Yeah?"
"Don't worry, I'm not going to ask you what are we," you say with a smile then get inside of your apartment.
That's funny because, after that night, he was hoping that you would ask him that as most girls do but that's where he is wrong, you're not most girls, you are his neighbor whom Chan is secretly in love with.
-
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just waited all day for my mother to come home from work because I needed to take my cat to the vet for a checkup (her eye is still not healing but I still don't have anyone to take me to the eye specialist that is three hours away) just to make sure her eye is not getting worse or she's losing more sight in it. I specifically asked her last night to please come home straight from work so I could borrow the car because the vet closes at 6 and I can't drive at night. she usually gets out at 2:30, sometimes 3 if she has to do overtime. but it was 4:40 when she JUST got home. the sun is already starting to set and by the time I get to the vet it'll be too dark for me to drive back. I'm confident she just fucking forgot and went off to my aunt's to eat and have coffee or whatever while I've been here getting everything ready so my cat is comfortable in her carrier and trying to not pass on my own stress onto her (🐈) because I know that probably doesn't help her feel better. I know this was an accident on her part, I know this, but I'm just so done. she never takes me into account, I'm always having to move around her schedule and accommodate her! the one time I asked her to get home early (and not even because I was doing something fun or frivolous or whatever) and she makes extra sure to come back just as it gets too dark for me to drive. surprisingly, she noticed I was upset and asked me what was wrong but at this point I don't even bother to bring it up because she always just invalidates me and calls me hysterical or dramatic or like I'm playing the victim. (this is without even taking into account that the reason I'm so "hysterical" is because of my ocd/anxiety and because the vet literally told me my cat losing an eye is a possibility! like, I feel like I'm not pulling shit out of my ass when I say I have reason to be concerned about this! especially since I haven't been able to take her to the specialist even tho the vet told me to take her almost two weeks ago!) I'm just done. I'm lured into a false sense of security by her again and again and I fall for it every time! I'm done. once I'm out of here by march, I'm going low contact
#venting#sorry if this post brings anyone down#I normally try not to vent on here because if i did it would be all i talked about#but I'm just so done#the fact that everyone thinks I'm a bad daughter and abusive to HER#and that she's just too good and nice to stand up for herself#the fact that she herself hsr told me she ''used to blame the family problems on you'' to my FACE!#and even when i would tell her i was just a kid she wouldn't listen until her OWN SUPPORT GROUP told her she was wrong#it's just so hard to live in a totally different world from the rest of the universe#because i feel like I'm going crazy when i say she's abusive because she's the nicests person to everyone else#she keeps doing little things like this#that impede me from moving forward#and she keeps saying it's not on purpose but then why does she keep doing them??#(like a few months ago when i told her I would drop her off at work so i could take the car to do some important errands#and asked her to please not leave without me#and when i asked her what time she would leave in the morning she said 5:45 so i thought perfect!#I'll wake up at 5:30! I get ready real quick anyway!#and it's 5:25 when i hear the car in the driveway leaving! when she is usually running at least five minutes late!#and a few weeks later when i woke up super early again to drop her off and take the car#they were all outside before i was ready#car turned on and so i rush out panicked because obviously I'm thinking she'll leave me again if I don't hurry!#and I get in the car and tell her she was probably hoping to leave without me#which is when she called me dramatic and playing the victim#and idk maybe I'm making it all up because she's not like this with anyone else!)
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ivyues · 1 month ago
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Laptop Delivery - Bang Chan
Practice got a little more eventful thanks to an forgotten laptop.
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It was a peaceful morning. Fresh from your shower, you padded into your kitchen, planning to grab a quick breakfast before heading to uni. But something on the counter stopped you in your tracks – Chris' laptop.  
Your heart sank. He’d stayed over last night but had to leave early for dance practice. The sight of his laptop sitting on the counter screamed trouble. Normally, he wouldn’t bring it over – it was too precious, filled with tracks, demos, and other vital material for the group. You knew his schedule was packed, and forgetting something this important could only mean bad news.
You snapped a picture of it and sent it to him with the caption:
"Forgot something?”
Still, you couldn’t shake the thought that it might be much more important. Without hesitation, you called him, even though you knew he was at practice.  
After a few rings, he picked up, slightly breathless. "Hey, baby. I’m… kinda at practice right now – what’s up?"  
"Did you leave your laptop here on purpose?" you asked, though you already knew the answer.  
"What?" His voice was sharp with confusion. "No, I thought I— wait, let me check the picture you send me."  
A muffled curse followed as realization hit. "Oh shit, no. I’ve got a meeting with some producers right after practice. I can’t believe I left it there." His tone was laced with stress.  
Chris hesitated. "I—" he started, then stopped himself. You could almost hear the gears turning in his head. He was probably considering rushing back to your place after practice, which would make him late for the meeting. Worse, you wouldn’t even be there to open the door since you'd already be at uni by then.
"I… could… bring it to you," you offered cautiously, knowing what value the device had to the group.  
"Really? Would that be possible?" His voice softened, a mixture of relief and guilt.  
"Yeah, but I’d have to leave now. I still have uni today," you said, already moving to grab your things.  
"Ah, that's amazing. You're an angel," he said warmly. "I’ll text you the room number."  
Skipping breakfast, you grabbed his laptop and headed out. On the way, you planned to stop by a bakery for something quick after the delivery, before heading straight to class.  
-----
At the JYP building, you knocked lightly on the practice room door, despite Chris’ text saying you could walk right in. The door opened to reveal Felix, his face lighting up with a grin.  
"Hey!" he greeted, pulling you into a quick hug.  
"Hi, Lix," you replied with a small smile. From across the room, Chris’s head shot up, his eyes locking on you. Relief and affection softened his expression as he quickly made his way towards you.  
"Hey," he murmured, stopping just in front of you.  
"Hi," you replied, reaching into your bag to pull out his laptop. As soon as the sleek silver device emerged, the room fell silent.  
The members froze, eyes wide. It wasn’t just a laptop to them; they knew what was inside – tracks, demos, lyrics, everything. The fact that you were holding it was proof of something bigger: the trust Chris had in you.
But before anyone could speak, Chris gently pulled you into the room, his fingers brushing your cheeks as he softly pulled your mask down.  
And then, he kissed you.  
It was natural, familia – something the two of you had done countless times before. But here, in the quiet practice room, with – unbeknownst to you – all eyes on you, it felt different. His lips were warm and soft, a silent expression of gratitude and love.  
The members didn’t move, still processing what they were seeing. None of them had expected this. Sure, they knew how much Chris cared about you, but seeing it displayed so openly caught them off guard.  
When he finally pulled back, his ears burned red, and he muttered a sheepish "I’ll call you later, okay? Thanks again.”, as he took the laptop from your hands.  
You, cheeks blazing, barely managed a nod as you stepped back. The silence lingered for a beat longer before you mumbled, Y-yeah. Bye, everyone.”
You turned and left, closing the door behind you.  
The moment the door clicked shut, chaos erupted.  
"YAH, HYUNG!"  
"I can't believe you just did that!"
"PDA MUCH?!”
"Channie hyung, what was that?!"
"Wow, so smooth. Too bad your ears give you away."  
Outside, you heard the screaming teasing very clearly and couldn’t help but smile, your cheeks still burning as you walked down the hallway. Chris could handle the teasing – he brought it upon himself after all.  
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